The courtyard is wide, sun spilling across the open space. Students rush in, full gear in hand. Helmets, gloves, boots, and hero costumes—all clattering as they scramble into position. Aizawa is already there, standing at the center, looking his usual tired and unamused self. His capture weapon hangs loosely around his neck, but there’s an edge to his posture—the class knows he’s about to make them work. “Alright,” Aizawa says, voice flat. “Get into groups of two. Quickly.” The students fumble to pair up. Midoriya and Uraraka team up, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu nod at each other silently. Bakugo and Kirishima go together reluctantly. Kaminari and Sero bicker but eventually pair up. Mina literally hops to Jiro, grinning. Once the pairs are formed, Aizawa continues, “Now each group of two find another group of two and stand by them. You’ll face off head-to-head. Winners move up the bracket. Losers? You’ll fight each other on the sidelines. Simple.” The class nods, the excitement building. Some students glance nervously at Bakugo. Some glance at Todoroki. And then… Aizawa lets a pause hang in the air. “The… surprise.” Suddenly, from behind a nearby tree, you burst out with impossible speed. In one fluid motion, you tackle Aizawa to the ground in a tackle-hug, your arms wrapping around him. You nuzzle your face into the side of his neck. “You didn’t think you could avoid me for long, did you, Shota?” you murmur, voice warm, teasing. The courtyard goes completely silent. Midoriya freezes, eyes wide. Todoroki blinks slowly, eyebrows raised. Bakugo grits his teeth, unsure whether to be impressed or furious. Mineta’s jaw drops completely—not subtle this time. Even Kirishima and Kaminari gape. Aizawa’s eyes widen slightly in the corner, a rare flicker of surprise—and maybe irritation—breaking through his usual composure. You pull back just enough to stand and lift Aizawa up with you, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “You really should have known better,” you say with a playful smirk, stepping back slightly. Aizawa groans softly, rubbing his neck, though he doesn’t push you away. “You—what are you doing here…?” You grin. “I came to make sure this little training session doesn’t get too boring. Thought I’d help out the class.” Mineta is whispering to Deku: “She… she just… tackled Aizawa-sensei! And she’s a pro hero! Is this… allowed?!” Kirishima mutters, half-awestruck, half-panicked: “She… she’s not dead? I thought he’d—he’d murder someone doing that…” Bakugo growls low in his throat. “This… isn’t fair. Who is she?” Mina waves her hands excitedly: “I love her already! She just tackled Aizawa-sensei!” Aizawa sighs, finally regaining some composure, though he still looks annoyed. “Stay… out of my hair during the exercises. Focus on the class.” You chuckle softly, stepping back fully into the sunlight. “Don’t worry. I’m just here to help. Let’s see how well they actually work together under pressure.” The students exchange looks of awe, disbelief, and excitement all at once. The atmosphere shifts—the training is suddenly more intense, more thrilling, and infinitely more chaotic than anyone expected. Aizawa shakes his head, muttering, “I swear… UA never lets me have a normal day.” You smile at him, knowing full well you’ve already made the day unforgettable.

*It's the beginning of fifth year. All the students are at their house assigned house tables. The great hall is light with torches that hover just above the students reaches, the ceiling inchanted to look like the night sky outside as it rains softly making soft tapping sounds as it hit the castles roof. Dissident thunder rumbles gone unnoticed as inside the sound of Excited students charter and laugher dies down along with the clink of silverware on plates and cups being sat back on the table. A hush falls as Professor Dumbledore rises from the head table (to give his annual welcoming speech) where all the professors sit watching over their students, along with the new DADA professor, Professor Umbridge looks around her Sickening sweet smile plays on her lips. The Atmosphere is warm and happy, along as it becomes quieter as Professor Dumbledore rises*

....

*Training Field Gamma — 0900 Hours.* *Concrete buildings stretch into the artificial skyline. Wind moves through the mock city streets. Class 1-A stands assembled in full hero costume.* *Tenya Iida steps forward first, posture rigid.* Iida: “Welcome. As the Class Representative of 1-A, I formally greet you. From this point forward, your performance will reflect upon our unit. Conduct yourself with discipline.” *Izuku Midoriya studies you carefully, eyes sharp.* Midoriya: “Your stance suggests close-range combat… or maybe reactive defense? I’ll be observing how you adapt under pressure.” *Katsuki Bakugo cracks his gauntlets, sparks snapping in his palms.* Bakugo: “If you’re weak, stay out of my way. I’m not carrying dead weight.” *Shoto Todoroki stands calmly, one side of him steaming faintly.* Todoroki: “Power is meaningless without control. Show us both.” *Ochaco Uraraka smiles lightly, though her eyes are focused.* Uraraka: “Don’t worry… we’ll give you a fair chance. Just don’t freeze up.” *Eijiro Kirishima grins confidently.* Kirishima: “Yeah! Show us some manly spirit! Give it everything you’ve got!” *Momo Yaoyorozu folds her hands behind her back, analytical.* Yaoyorozu: “We will assess your adaptability, strategy, and teamwork. Raw strength alone will not be enough.” *Tsuyu Asui tilts her head slightly.* Asui: “Ribbit. Try not to act alone. Lone heroes don’t last long.” *Denki Kaminari scratches his head, half-grinning.* Kaminari: “Heh… hope your Quirk isn’t something boring like ‘extra elbows’ or something.” *Kyoka Jiro crosses her arms.* Jiro: “Ignore him. Just don’t be reckless.” *Fumikage Tokoyami steps forward slightly, Dark Shadow shifting behind him.* Tokoyami: “Within the crucible of combat… one’s true nature is revealed.” *Mina Ashido bounces lightly on her heels.* Ashido: “Ooooh this is exciting! New teammate energy!” *Hanta Sero casually flicks a strip of tape from his elbow.* Sero: “We’ll probably run capture drills first. Don’t get stuck too fast.” *Mashirao Ojiro nods respectfully.* Ojiro: “I look forward to sparring with you.” *Rikido Sato clenches his fist quietly.* Sato: “If it’s a strength test… I’m ready.” *Koji Koda shifts slightly, speaking softly.* Koda: “The animals nearby seem calm… that’s a good sign.” *Toru Hagakure’s voice echoes cheerfully though she’s unseen.* Hagakure: “Heeeey! Don’t be nervous! We’re not that scary!” *Mezo Shoji stands solid and observant.* Shoji: “We operate best as a unit. Cooperation is expected.” *Yuga Aoyama places a hand dramatically to his chest.* Aoyama: “I do hope your brilliance can shine alongside mine.” *Minoru Mineta adjusts his gloves nervously.* Mineta: “J-Just don’t do anything too insane, okay?!” *A heavy scarf shifts above. Shota Aizawa watches from a rooftop.* Aizawa: “This isn’t a welcome party. It’s an evaluation.” *A siren sounds.* COMBAT SIMULATION INITIALIZING. *Iida raises his arm.* Iida: “Formation Alpha!” *Bakugo smirks.* Bakugo: “Let’s see what you’re made of.” *Midoriya’s eyes lock onto yours.* Midoriya: “What’s your Quirk?”

Hunger. No—thirst. A razor-toothed void shredding his insides, carving his dead veins into channels of raw need. Aizawa’s eyes snapped open. Blood-scent detonated in his brain: copper-iron-life, radiating from the woman beside him. Agatha. His maker. His soulmate. Her pulse echoed in his fangs like a war drum. "Control it," her voice cut through the haze, glacial and unwavering. "Synthetic first. Human never." A thermos clattered near his clawing hand. Cold. Sterile. Wrong. But her jasmine-and-ozone scent tightened around him—a chain of ice on the beast. Survive. Adapt. The mantra of his human life now baptized in blood. He seized the thermos. The thirst screamed. He drank.

*Aizawa was out on his night patrol, watching the city from a rooftop, when he noticed someone walking down below* Aizawa: Who is that? Who walks alone at night? Not any of my students. *He mutters to himself in his usual monotone voice*

*The highway hums beneath your tires, late evening stretching into that quiet, dim blue where everything feels a little too reflective. Music plays low in your car, your mind somewhere else—until something loud cuts through it. A sharp engine roar pulls up beside you, fast, familiar, and way too close. You glance over. And your breath catches. It’s him. Katsuki Bakugo rides alongside your car like he owns the road, one hand steady on the handlebar, the other relaxed—but his eyes? Locked on you. Sharp. Unreadable. The same way they used to be when he had something to say you weren’t ready for. Your grip tightens on the wheel. He shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Not after everything. For a second, neither of you move—just driving side by side, tension thick enough to choke on. Then he tilts his head slightly, slowing just enough to match your speed. His gaze flickers over your face like he’s checking if you’re real. And then—* “Hey, princess.” *The nickname hits harder than it should. Familiar. Dangerous. Before you can even process it, he jerks his head forward, signaling you to pull off. There’s something off about him—something heavier than just running into an ex on the road. Reluctantly, you take the next exit, heart pounding, and pull into a nearly empty parking lot lit by flickering streetlights. He parks right in front of you, cutting his engine. For a moment, he just sits there. Still. That alone is enough to make your stomach twist. Then he swings off the bike, pulling off his helmet, running a hand through his hair like he’s stalling. Like he doesn’t know how to start this. That’s new. Bakugo doesn’t hesitate. But now? Now he looks… tense. You step out of your car, folding your arms, trying to rebuild that wall you had when you left him.* “What do you want?” *you ask, sharper than you mean to—but not soft either. His eyes meet yours instantly. No teasing. No attitude. Just… something serious. He clicks his tongue, looking off for a second like he’s irritated—not at you, but at himself. Then he turns back, jaw tight.* “Wasn’t plannin’ on runnin’ into you like this,” *he mutters.* “But… guess it works.” *That pit in your stomach grows.* “Bakugo—” “Hold on.” *His voice cuts in, not harsh—just controlled. Different. He turns, reaching back toward his bike. And that’s when you hear it. A small, soft sound. Your brows furrow. Confusion flickers across your face as he carefully lifts something—someone—into his arms. A tiny bundle, shifting slightly, wrapped up and half-asleep against his chest. Your entire body goes still. He adjusts his hold awkwardly—like he’s still getting used to it—but protective at the same time. Instinctive. Then he looks back at you. Really looks at you this time. And for once, Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t have anything cocky to say. His voice is lower when he finally speaks.* “…This is Dalia.” *Silence. The name doesn’t land right away—but the reality does. A child. His child. Your heart stutters, confusion crashing into disbelief, into something you can’t even name. He shifts slightly, the little girl stirring against him, her tiny hand gripping his shirt. His expression flickers—just for a second—softening before he looks back at you, serious again.* “Her mom dipped,” *he says bluntly.* “Left her with me. Been just me and her.” *You don’t know what to say. What can you say? And that’s when he drops it. His gaze doesn’t leave yours.* “…I need help.” *The words sound foreign coming from him. Like they don’t belong. Like they cost him everything to say.* “I wouldn’t be askin’ if I had another option,” *he adds quickly, jaw tightening, pride still fighting to stay alive.* “But I don’t.” *He steps a little closer—not too much, just enough to close the distance between what you were and what this is now.* “Just… hear me out, yeah?” *he says, quieter now.* “Then you can tell me to get lost. I won’t stop you.” *For once—He means it. And standing there, under flickering lights, with your past right in front of you and his future in his arms…You realize this isn’t just about him anymore. It never will be again.*

*You were enjoying e concert, like your classmates and everyone else here, dressed to the punk rock theme, when Klan and Yuichi approached.* Klan: Hey there Cutie! Nice skirt, love the length, nice and short huh? And goes great with those fishnets! Yuichi: Nice crop top! Really makes your chest pop out, it's a great view for our eyes!

}, is that you? *She asks, then she laughs, smiling at you.* It is! How long has it been? *It’s been maybe 8 years, and here she is. She seems to have matured, and her costume seems to have been changed to fit her more matured body.* Um, would you like to get something to drink together? I know this cafe made for heroes only. *She senses your gaze, and proceeds to cross her arms over her stomach, a light blush tinting her cheeks. Despite her embarrassment, she’s still smiling, seemingly happy to see you.*

....