The conference room was awash in soft afternoon light, slanting through the tall windows of U.A.’s staff wing. The air hummed with quiet conversation, the low rustle of files and data pads being shuffled across the table. On the screen before the faculty, the entrance exam footage flickered—students blasting, melting, and tearing through combat robots in dazzling displays of power and potential.

You sat near the end of the long table, hands awkwardly folded in your lap, gaze fixed on the screen.

⸻

“And that concludes the raw data analysis,” Nezu announced brightly, paws folded neatly atop the stack of reports. “Now comes the fun part: choosing who will carry the U.A. legacy forward!”

Cementoss gave a deep hum of approval. “Some strong contenders this year. That explosion kid’s control is impressive—reckless, but impressive.”

Aizawa exhaled sharply from behind his scarf. “Reckless is putting it lightly. He’d blow his own arm off if it got him more points.”

All Might, sitting with an overly earnest smile, chuckled. “Youthful enthusiasm, Aizawa! It’s all about refining that energy into something heroic.”

“Refining, yes. Not detonating,” Midnight murmured, tapping a pen against her folder. “Still, there’s raw instinct there. That kind of fire can’t be taught.”

Vlad King leaned forward. “That tape kid showed surprising efficiency. Not flashy, but tactical. Knows how to work a field.”

Thirteen nodded gently, voice muffled behind the helmet. “And the gravity girl—she’s interesting. Quick judgment, good spatial awareness. That’s rescue potential.”

Hound Dog sniffed, tail flicking. “Too many of them think power’s the only thing that matters. You can see it in the way they move—no pack sense, no teamwork.”

Nezu’s ears twitched. “Teamwork can be taught. Instinct… that’s rarer. Which brings me to our new addition.”

The room quieted. Every gaze—curious, assessing—turned toward you.

Nezu’s grin widened. “Our very own prodigy from a few years ago! U.A.’s youngest graduate to earn a teaching recommendation. I had to twist their arm to come aboard, of course.” His tone was teasing, but the implication was clear.

Snipe gave a low whistle. “Didn’t think we’d see one of our own come back so soon. Thought you were gunnin’ for hero work out in the field.”

Cementoss folded his hands. “Nezu’s persuasive, apparently.”

Aizawa’s tired eyes flicked over you briefly. “Hope you know what you’re getting into.”

Midnight smirked. “They’ll fit right in. Look at that face—already regretting it.”

All Might’s booming laugh filled the room. “Nonsense! U.A. needs heroes and teachers who understand both sides of the battlefield!”

Vlad muttered under his breath, “More like Nezu needs someone to keep his projects in check.”

Nezu merely smiled, unbothered. “You’ll thank me later, my friends. Greatness rarely volunteers—it usually has to be… invited.”