The Alliance Heights common room had transformed in the hour we'd been gone. The parental circus was over. They left behind a collection of awkward teenagers. Now we had to figure out where we fit in this strange new ecosystem. I leaned against one of the wooden support columns, watching the social landscape take shape.
Midoriya immediately gravitated toward Uraraka, who stood near the fireplace with Iida. The Hall Monitor was gesturing sharply with both hands, probably explaining the fire safety protocols to anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot.
"We should establish a proper rotation for introductions," Iida announced to two boys—one with spiky yellow hair who looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket, and another with plain features and tape dispenser elbows. "Three minutes per person, proceeding alphabetically by family name!"
The electric-haired boy exchanged a look with Tape Arms. "Uh, couldn't we just, like, hang out and get to know each other normally?"
"Unacceptable!"
I suppressed a smile. Most of these kids would be irrelevant to my plans, but it never hurt to identify the players worth investing in. The room had natural clusters forming—future alliances taking shape based on first impressions and shared discomfort.
Near the kitchen area, a boy with spiky ash-blonde hair and murder in his eyes was being pestered by a redhead with shark teeth. The blonde looked ready to commit homicide, while Shark Teeth seemed determined to befriend him despite the obvious danger.
On the opposite side, a tall girl with a ponytail was arranging teacups with the precision of someone setting up a chemistry experiment. Beside her, a frog-like girl sat perfectly still, watching everyone with unblinking eyes.
Know the board before you place your bet.
Something latched onto my arm with surprising strength. Two floating light-blue gloves appeared in my peripheral vision, followed by a squeal of excitement.
"Yukio-kun! I knew we'd be in the same class! I was so hoping! Isn't this place amazing? Have you seen the bathhouse yet? It's got heated floors!"
I turned to find Hagakure bouncing up and down. No Hagakure visible, of course, just the outfit—knee-length skirt, blazer with the top button undone, and those distinctive gloves.
"Small world, Invisible Girl," I said. "Didn't think I'd run into you again so soon."
The gloves squeezed my arm tighter. "I couldn't believe it when I saw your name on the class roster! Remember how we met on the train? That was totally fate!"
Her voice carried across the room, slicing through the awkward murmurs of conversation. Every head turned toward us. Even the blonde rage machine in the kitchen paused his simmering to glare in our direction.
Hagakure's gloves suddenly loosened their grip. "Oh! Um, sorry." Her voice dropped several decibels. "I was just... excited."
The outfit shifted, suggesting she was fidgeting. "I talk too loud sometimes when I get worked up."
"Don't worry about it," I said, patting one of her gloves. "If you're going to be a Spotlight Hero, volume control isn't exactly a priority."
She giggled. "You remembered!"
Across the room, I caught Uraraka watching our interaction. Her wide eyes narrowed slightly, and her perpetual smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she plastered it back on. What's that about, Mochi?
"Murano. Good to see a familiar face."
I turned to find Jiro approaching from the entertainment area, where she'd been examining the sound system with the interest of a jeweler appraising diamonds. Her short purple hair was pinned back on one side, and her earphone jacks swayed gently as she walked. Her expression was an island of calm in the sea of nervous energy filling the room.
"Jiro," I said, my smile shifting from practiced charm to something more genuine. "I was hoping I'd run into you. We never got to finish our conversation."
I pulled out my phone, holding it up. "We should fix that. Number?"
She raised an eyebrow but pulled out her own phone, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips. "Bold. But fair enough. We did make a pretty good team."
We exchanged numbers, and I could feel Hagakure's gloves tightening on my arm again.
"What about me?" she asked, her voice taking on a slight pout. "Don't I get your number too?"
"Of course," I said smoothly. "Anyone who can pull off invisible and still be the center of attention deserves my number."
Hagakure giggled again, fumbling for her phone. From the corner of my eye, I saw the blonde in the kitchen slam down his glass of water. The red-haired boy beside him placed a hand on his shoulder, only to have it violently shrugged off.
"So," I said to Hagakure as we finished exchanging contact information, "how's your room coming along? Decorated yet?"
"Oh! I've got all these cute posters and fairy lights and—"
"YOU."
The voice cut through the room like a serrated knife, silencing every conversation. The blonde from the kitchen stalked toward me, his face contorted in rage and his hands sparking with small explosions. The red-haired boy followed, looking concerned.
"Murano." He spat my name like it was poison. "You're the bastard who scored higher than me."
I raised my eyebrows slightly, studying him. Spiky ash-blonde hair, crimson eyes burning with hatred, a permanent scowl etched into his features.
"One hundred and three points," he snarled, stomping closer. "They're saying you got seventy fucking rescue points. SEVENTY." Small explosions popped from his palms. "That's bullshit. Pure fucking bullshit."
The common room had gone deadly silent. Even Iida had stopped mid-gesture, watching the confrontation with wide eyes.
"You think you're hot shit with your pretty-boy face?" Bakugo continued, his voice rising with each word. "That was a fluke! A lucky break! You're just another stepping-stone, an EXTRA in my story!"
The fuck is his problem?
"I'm going to be Number One," he shouted, "and I'll crush anyone who gets in my way, starting with YOU!"
He finished his tirade, chest heaving, palms crackling with suppressed explosions. The entire room held its breath, waiting for my response.
I blinked slowly, then turned back to Hagakure.
"So about those lights. Multi-colored or just white?"
I felt rather than saw Bakugo's shock, followed immediately by a fresh wave of rage. The red-haired boy behind him let out a nervous laugh.
"Hey, man, come on," he said, grabbing Bakugo's arm. "Let's chill out. First day and all, right?"
"DON'T IGNORE ME, YOU WHITE-HAIRED BASTARD!" Bakugo roared.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, finally turning back to him with an expression of polite surprise. "Were you still talking? I thought you were done with your little... whatever that was."
His face went from angry red to apoplectic purple. "You—"
"Kacchan, please," Midoriya stepped forward, hands raised placatingly. "Let's not start fights on the first day."
"SHUT IT, DEKU!" Bakugo snapped, but his focus remained locked on me. "You think you're better than me, Murano?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't think about men in my free time, actually."
The room collectively gasped. Shark Teeth's eyes widened to comical proportions.
"You're dead," Bakugo whispered, his voice terrifyingly quiet now. "You hear me? Fucking dead."
"That's enough!" Iida chopped the air with both hands, inserting himself between us. "Fighting is strictly prohibited in the dormitories! As your classmates, we should strive to—"
"Stuff it, Four-Eyes," Bakugo growled, shoving past him.
He stormed toward the staircase, his footsteps like gunshots on the hardwood floor. The redhead hesitated, then followed after him with an apologetic glance back at the group.
As they disappeared upstairs, the common room erupted into whispers. I felt a tug on my sleeve and looked down to see one of Hagakure's gloves.
"He's scary," she whispered, her gloves tightening on my arm. "I thought he was actually going to use his Quirk on you."
"Eh, he's more like a pomeranian," I said. "All bark, lots of shaking."
That earned a snort from Jiro, who had remained beside me throughout the confrontation.
"Man, that was wild!" The electric-haired boy bounded over. "I'm Kaminari, by the way. Denki Kaminari."
He thrust out his hand. I took it, noting the slight static shock.
"Electricity Quirk?" I asked.
"Yeah! How'd you know?"
I pointed to his hair. "Just a hunch."
"This is Sero," Kaminari said, pulling Tape Arms forward. "He shoots tape from his elbows. Super useful."
"Yo," Sero said with an easy grin.
The redhead returned a few minutes later, approaching our growing circle with a sheepish smile. Up close, his hair was even more vibrant, styled into spikes that reminded me of a shonen protagonist.
"Hey," he said, extending a hand. "Eijiro Kirishima."
I took his hand, noting the calluses and firm grip. "Yukio Murano."
"Yeah, I know," he laughed. "After that introduction, everyone knows who you are."
"That was my plan all along," I said dryly. "Nothing says 'remember my name' like making an enemy on day one."
Kirishima laughed again, a booming, genuine sound. "You're funny, man. I like that."
The ice broken, the common room began to fill with actual conversation. The ponytail girl brought over a tray of tea, introducing herself as Momo Yaoyorozu. The frog girl followed, revealing her name was Tsuyu Asui but insisting everyone call her "Tsu." A pink-skinned girl with horns and the energy of a supernova bounced over, announcing herself as Mina Ashido.
I noticed a small figure with purple balls for hair lurking near the edge of the group, trying to position himself to look up the girls' skirts. No one else seemed to notice him, and I certainly wasn't going to waste my attention on someone so pathetic.
Midoriya eventually joined our circle, bringing Uraraka with him. She smiled at me, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"That was really something with Bakugo-kun," she said. "I hope you two can work things out."
"I wouldn't count on it," I replied. "Some people just need someone to hate. Might as well be me."
"That's a sad way of looking at it," she frowned.
"Practical," I corrected. "Speaking of practical, Mochi, we should exchange numbers too."
Her cheeks pinkened at the nickname. "Oh! Sure, that makes sense."
As we swapped contact information, I caught Jiro watching us with an amused expression. She raised an eyebrow when I glanced her way, and I responded with a small shrug. What can I say? Networking is important.
The evening continued with introductions and casual conversation. I learned that Kaminari considered himself the "Rizz God" of the class, despite Jiro's withering looks whenever he used the word. Kirishima kept trying to sell us on Bakugo's "hidden depths," while Yaoyorozu quietly impressed everyone with her knowledge and grace.
By the time we all headed to our rooms, I'd exchanged numbers with most of the class and had mentally sorted them into categories: Useful, Potentially Useful, and Irrelevant. A few remained question marks—Todoroki, the half-red, half-white haired boy who barely spoke; and Tokoyami, who communicated primarily in cryptic statements about darkness.
As I unlocked my door, Midoriya paused outside his own room.
"That thing with Kacchan," he said hesitantly. "He holds grudges."
"I noticed," I replied, sliding my key into the lock.
"No, I mean..." He looked troubled. "We grew up together. Once he decides you're his enemy, he doesn't let it go. Ever."
I smiled, opening my door. "Goodnight, Midoriya. Sweet dreams about All Might."
His face flushed, but he didn't deny it. "Goodnight, Murano-kun."