The gates of U.A. High loomed ahead, gleaming in the morning sun like a promise and a warning. Y/N stood just outside them, clutching the strap of her bag with fingers that had gone stiff from nerves. The school was quiet at this hour, but the air buzzed with the weight of reputation — the kind that made your chest tighten and your thoughts race.
They weren't supposed to be here.
Not originally, anyway.
A late transfer into Class 1-A was rare. Almost unheard of. But after what happened at their last school — the incident, the fallout, the silence — U.A. had offered a second chance. A clean slate. Or as clean as it could be when your quirk had once shattered half a training facility.
Y/N exhaled slowly and stepped through the gates.
Inside, the halls were already humming with energy. Students in uniform moved between classrooms, some chatting, others sparring with words or quirks. Y/N kept her head down, following the directions she'd been given. Room 1-A. Third floor. End of the hall.
she reached the door just as it slid open from the inside.
Aizawa stood there, eyes half-lidded and scarf trailing behind him like a shadow. "You're late," he said flatly.
Y/N blinked. "I— It's 8:28."
"You're late to being early," he muttered, turning and walking back into the classroom. "Come in."
Y/N stepped inside, and twenty pairs of eyes turned toward them. The room was loud — voices overlapping, quirks sparking in the air — but the moment they entered, everything quieted.
"Class," Aizawa said, "this is Y/N L/N. she'll be joining us from today onward. Treat her like any other student. That means no special treatment, no gossip, and no excuses."
Someone snorted. Y/N didn't need to look to know who it was.
Katsuki Bakugo sat near the back, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His expression was unreadable — but the tension in his jaw said enough.
"Another one?" he muttered. "What, we collecting strays now?"
Y/N's spine stiffened.
Aizawa didn't react. "Y/N, take the empty seat next to Midoriya."
Izuku smiled nervously and waved. "Hi! I'm Izuku. It's nice to meet you."
Y/N nodded and sat down, ignoring the heat of Bakugo's glare from across the room.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur — lectures, quirk theory, combat strategy. Y/N answered when called on, kept her voice steady, and avoided eye contact with Bakugo entirely. But she could feel it. That pressure. Like a storm waiting to break.
It finally did during afternoon training.
"Pair up," Aizawa instructed. "Combat simulation. One-on-one. No holding back."
Y/N turned, expecting to be paired with Midoriya or Uraraka. But Aizawa's voice cut through: "L/N and Bakugo."
Bakugo's eyes lit up — not with excitement, but with challenge. "Tch. Fine."
They stood across from each other on the training field, wind tugging at their uniforms. Bakugo cracked his knuckles. "Hope you're not fragile."
Y/N's voice was calm. "Hope you're not overconfident."
Aizawa gave the signal.
Bakugo launched forward instantly, explosions flaring from his palms. Y/N dodged, barely, the heat licking their cheek. She countered with a pulse — a sharp clap that sent a shockwave toward him. He twisted mid-air, avoiding the brunt, but landed hard.
"Sound-based quirk?" he growled. "Cute."
Y/N didn't respond. She clapped again, this time with more force. The echo rippled outward, shaking the ground beneath Bakugo's feet. He stumbled, then roared and fired a blast that collided with the wave mid-air, sending both of them skidding backward.
The match ended in a draw.
Aizawa called it off before either could push further. "Enough. You'll both destroy the field if you keep going."
Bakugo stalked off without a word.
Y/N stood there, chest heaving, hands trembling slightly. Not from fear — but from something else. Something electric.
Later, as she packed up, Midoriya approached. "You did great. Bakugo doesn't say it, but he respects strength."
Y/N glanced toward the exit, where Bakugo had disappeared. "He didn't seem respectful."
Midoriya smiled faintly. "That was respectful. For him."
Y/N didn't reply. But as she walked back to the dorms, the echo of Bakugo's explosions still rang in their ears — not just from the fight, but from something deeper.
Something that felt like the beginning.