Family had always been a complicated word. For you, it meant distance. Silence. Emptiness where love should have been. But UA rewrote the meaning.

At first, it was small things: Kirishima saving you a spot at lunch, Jirou lending you her headphones when you couldn’t sleep, Midoriya offering a smile when training went badly. Then it grew louder. Movie nights in the dorms. Group dinners where everyone cooked one dish, ending in chaos but laughter anyway. Arguments over card games that ended with Kaminari sulking while Ashido danced on the table in victory.

One night, you came back to the dorms exhausted, ready to collapse. You opened the door, and there they were: your classmates, crowded in the common room, half-asleep in piles of blankets and pillows, the glow of a movie playing on the screen. Yaoyorozu had made cocoa. Tokoyami was pretending not to enjoy being wrapped in Sero’s blanket cocoon. Bakugo, fast asleep on the far couch, had someone’s scarf draped over him, softening his scowl.

And in that moment, it hit you: you’d never had this before. People who wanted you here. People who made you laugh. People who made “home” mean something again.

It wasn’t the family you were born into. It was the one you built. The one that built you back.