Borrowed Breath
The halls of UA echoed with Katsuki's solitary footsteps, early morning sunlight casting long shadows through the massive windows. She'd arrived an hour before classes were set to begin - partly to scope out the competition, partly because sitting at home meant enduring another of Auntie Inko's quiet breakdowns over breakfast.
Her uniform felt like armor - every pleat and fold meeting the Department's exacting standards for feminine presentation. The mandatory skirt (designed to "maintain grace during combat situations") swished against her legs with each step. Even her tie was perfectly knotted, though her fingers itched to loosen it, to show some small defiance against their endless rules about proper appearance.
Class 1-A's door loomed ahead - massive, imposing, built to contain the kind of power that heroes weren't supposed to display anymore.
Her hand paused on the door handle, a familiar tension building in her shoulders. This was where it all started - where legends were born and broken. Where All Might herself had once walked before vanishing into whispered rumors and classified files.
She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The empty classroom felt like potential energy waiting to explode. Just ten desks arranged in perfect rows, each one representing someone who'd passed their ridiculous entrance exam - who'd proven they could make power look pretty enough to be permitted. The morning light caught dust motes dancing through the air, making them look almost like the sparkles they demanded female heroes add to their special moves now.
Katsuki stopped short in the doorway, eyebrows rising. Two students? At this hour? She checked her phone - still a full two hours before classes started. In the front row, a girl with flowing green vines for hair knelt beside her desk, hands clasped in morning prayer. Her uniform was modified with Department-approved "modest accommodations" - longer sleeves and a higher neckline, marking her as one of the more traditionally feminine approved hero candidates. The thorns adorning her vine-like hair had been carefully groomed to appear more decorative than dangerous.
But it was the other student who immediately commanded attention - and not in a way the Department would approve of. Tall and athletic with a frame that probably caused concerns during her feminine presentation evaluations, she stood with almost military precision beside her perfectly arranged desk. Her dark blue hair was cut in what must have been a carefully negotiated compromise between regulation length and practical styling - short but with softened edges that framed sharp features. Even her glasses seemed to reflect rigid discipline, rectangular lenses catching the morning light as she snapped to attention at Katsuki's entrance.
"Greetings, fellow hero candidate!" Her voice carried through the empty classroom with the kind of volume that presentation coaches probably spent hours trying to modulate. Her hand movements were sharp and precise - too precise, like someone who had practiced "proper feminine gestures" until they became mechanical. "I am Tenya Ida of the Ida Hero Family! I look forward to pursuing our heroic studies together in accordance with all proper protocols and regulations!"
Each word was delivered with intense enthusiasm that made Katsuki's teeth ache. The girl's calves - visibly mechanical beneath the mandatory uniform skirt - actually seemed to rev slightly with her excitement, small puffs of exhaust briefly visible before being quickly contained. Someone had clearly spent a lot of time teaching her to suppress her quirk's more "aggressive" manifestations.
"Yeah, whatever," Katsuki muttered, already regretting her early arrival as Ida launched into what seemed to be a rehearsed speech about proper classroom etiquette and the importance of upholding UA's prestigious feminine traditions.
The vine-haired girl - Shiozaki, if Katsuki remembered the entrance exam rankings correctly - remained focused on her prayers, though a few of her thorns seemed to curl slightly in response to Ida's overwhelming energy.
This was going to be a long fucking year.
"And of course," Ida continued, producing a small handbook from her perfectly organized bag, "we must all strive to embody the Department's Thirteen Essential Qualities of Feminine Heroics! Number one: Grace Under Pressure - all movements should flow like water, even during intense combat situations. Number two: Aesthetic Harmony - our quirks must be visually pleasing while maintaining optimal effectiveness. Number three-"
Katsuki's eye twitched. She'd heard these same damn rules recited at every evaluation, every training session, every mind-numbing presentation seminar. Her fingers drummed against her desk, small wisps of smoke rising between them.
"Shut it, Four Eyes," she growled, forcing her hands flat against the wood to still the building nitroglycerin. Getting written up for 'aggressive quirk display' on the first day would be a pain in the ass.
But Ida was unstoppable, if anything becoming more animated. "Oh my! That reminds me of Quality Number Seven: Proper Voice Modulation! We must always maintain gentle, melodious tones even when issuing commands. Perhaps we could practice together? The Department recommends starting with breathing exercises-"
The desk creaked under Katsuki's tightening grip as her jaw clenched. Each word from Ida's mouth felt like sandpaper against her already fraying nerves. The morning light caught her perfectly polished glasses, making them gleam with bureaucratic enthusiasm.
"I said shut-"
"And those sparks!" Ida's engines whirred with excitement as she pulled out a small notebook, completely oblivious to the murderous aura building across from her. "While explosions can be quite striking visually, have you considered adding more delicate elements? Perhaps a shimmer effect, or a gentle chiming sound? The Department's latest guidelines suggest that combat quirks should incorporate at least three feminine aesthetic elements to offset any potentially aggressive impressions-"
Something snapped inside Katsuki. The carefully maintained wall between her power and their precious "feminine restraint" crumbled. A small explosion escaped before she could contain it, singeing her perfectly pressed uniform sleeve. Ida gasped, already reaching for what looked suspiciously like a copy of "Proper Protocol for Addressing Quirk Etiquette Violations Among Peers."
"This is exactly why we must internalize Quality Number Nine: Emotional Refinement! Raw displays of power must always be tempered with ladylike restraint. Perhaps we could review the breathing exercises together during lunch? I have several Department-approved meditation guides that-"
"If I may," Shiozaki's soft voice cut through Ida's recitation like a thorn through silk, "some of us are attempting to commune with the Lord before classes begin." Her vines shifted with deliberate grace, forming patterns that reminded Katsuki of stained glass windows and silent judgment. "Though I suppose not everyone understands the importance of proper... spiritual preparation."
The emphasis on 'proper' carried weight, and Katsuki's eyes narrowed as she caught the subtle way Shiozaki's gaze flickered between her decidedly non-regulation stance and Ida's mechanical movements.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her prayer beads as she spoke, knuckles whitening against the polished wood.
"Oh!" Ida's engines actually stuttered as she processed this, her hands freezing mid-gesture. "My sincerest apologies! The Department's Guidelines for Religious Accommodation clearly state that we must respect all approved forms of worship, particularly those that emphasize traditional feminine virtues! Please, allow me to-"
"Your enthusiasm, while... admirable," Shiozaki's vines curled into what might have been a crown of thorns, "perhaps requires more refined direction." Her eyes, when they met Katsuki's, held the kind of pity that made explosions itch under her skin. "We are, after all, called to be vessels of grace and purity in these trying times. Some of us more obviously than others."
The last words dripped with meaning that made Katsuki's palms spark. She caught the implications well enough.
"Hah?" Katsuki's voice came out as more of a growl than the Department would approve of. "Got something to say to me directly, Holy Roller?"
"I merely pray," Shiozaki's response was peaceful, though her vines coiled with slightly more thorns than strictly necessary, "for all souls who struggle with... feminine refinement. It must be such a burden, carrying such aggressive energy in these enlightened times."
Ida's head swiveled between them like a particularly enthusiastic metronome, clearly sensing tension but unable to find the relevant regulation to address it. Her engines revved anxiously as she flipped through her handbook, muttering something about "proper protocols for addressing spiritual-based conflict resolution."
The tense atmosphere was suddenly broken by the soft click of the classroom door. All three turned to see a figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the hall lights. Short and slight, with the head of a black raven, she wore her uniform with a kind of gothic elegance that somehow stayed just within Department regulations while suggesting something darker. Her red choker - probably negotiated as a "personal expression item" - stood out starkly against her feathers.
"Ah! Another classmate!" Ida's engines revved with renewed enthusiasm. "Welcome! We were just discussing proper-"
"The protocols of morning prayer versus the regulations of classroom conduct," Tokoyami interrupted, her red eyes taking in the scene with dry amusement. "Such revelations of the mortal realm. How meaningless in the face of deeper darkness."
She glided - there was really no other word for it - to a desk near the window, somehow making the mandatory uniform skirt look like ceremonial robes. "Though perhaps," she added, settling into her seat with theatrical grace, "there are more interesting conflicts brewing than mere regulatory disputes."
Shiozaki's vines bristled visibly, thorns extending before she could maintain her composed facade. Her fingers tightened around her prayer beads until the wood creaked. "Some of us," she said with careful control, though her vines betrayed her tension, curling away from Tokoyami's shadow, "walk in His light rather than... consorting with darkness."
"Light and dark, good and evil," Tokoyami mused, producing a small leather-bound book that definitely wasn't on the Department's approved reading list. "Such simple divisions for a world of infinite shadows."
Shiozaki's vines actually recoiled at the sight of the book, its worn black cover suggesting contents that weren't Department-sanctioned scripture. A few of her thorns clicked against each other like rosary beads. "There is nothing infinite about darkness," she said, voice tight with barely contained disapproval. "Only His light shows the true path to proper feminine virtue."
"The fuck you two on about?" Katsuki growled, but her eyes caught the way Shiozaki's vines seemed to physically strain away from Tokoyami's desk, like plants bending away from something toxic.
"Fascinating!" Ida's engines whirred as she furiously flipped through her handbook. "The Department's Guidelines on Religious Expression clearly state that all approved faiths must be respected, but there's no specific protocol for addressing theological disputes between traditional doctrine and... um..." she glanced uncertainly at Tokoyami, who was now reading her mysterious book with exaggerated serenity, "alternative spiritual practices?"
"There is nothing alternative about damnation," Shiozaki muttered, just loud enough to hear, her vines forming what looked suspiciously like a protective barrier between her desk and Tokoyami's dark corner.
A shadow suddenly writhed from beneath Tokoyami's uniform - a darker patch of darkness that seemed to drink in the morning light. It manifested as a vaguely bird-like shape, yellow eyes gleaming with mischief that contrasted sharply with its host's stoic demeanor.
"Ooooh, damnation! How scary!" Dark Shadow cackled, swooping playfully around Tokoyami's desk. "Should we start chanting? Light some black candles? Maybe sacrifice a math textbook?"
"Dark Shadow," Tokoyami sighed, somehow making even exasperation sound dramatic. "We discussed proper decorum."
"But she started it!" The shadow entity pouted, crossing its ethereal arms. "All that 'walking in His light' stuff. Like darkness doesn't have perfectly good sidewalks too!"
Shiozaki's vines coiled tighter, thorns extending defensively as Dark Shadow drifted closer. "A demon," she whispered, fingers moving faster over her prayer beads. "They actually admitted a girl with a demon quirk-"
"Demon? Please," Dark Shadow rolled its luminous eyes. "I prefer 'aesthetically challenged spirit of questionable origin.' Much more Department-approved, don't you think?"
"Hah, at least you've got a sense of humor about it," Katsuki smirked, her palms crackling faintly. "Unlike some people who've got sticks so far up their asses they're sprouting thorns."
"Ooh, I like her!" Dark Shadow cackled, swirling playfully around Katsuki's head. "She's got that whole 'barely contained rage' thing going. Very un-Department approved. Very fun!"
"Watch it, you overgrown shadow puppet," Katsuki growled, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone. "I'm nobody's entertainment."
Even Ida seemed torn between consulting her regulations and being amused, her engines making small confused puttering sounds.
"My, my... what an interesting collection of 'elite' students we have here."
The voice dripped sarcasm like honey-coated poison. A tall blonde girl leaned against the doorframe, her perfectly styled hair parted to reveal one calculating blue eye. Her uniform was immaculate - almost aggressively so, as if daring anyone to find a single regulation she hadn't mastered. Her smile was a sharp, practiced thing that never quite reached her eyes.
"Let's see," she tapped one manicured finger against her chin in mock contemplation. "We have the walking Book of Revelations," her hand swept toward Shiozaki in a gesture that managed to be both balletically graceful and dismissive, "the Department's very own automaton," she flourished toward Ida with exaggerated propriety, "what appears to be a feral child someone mistakenly dressed in uniform," her gaze raked over Katsuki with aristocratic disdain,
"and... oh dear, did someone's edgy Hot Topic clearance rack gain sentience?"
Tokoyami merely turned a page in her book, though Dark Shadow bristled visibly, swirling up with indignant energy.
"Hot Topic? Please," Dark Shadow scoffed, yellow eyes narrowing. "We're clearly more of a custom Victorian gothic boutique kind of duo. Though I wouldn't expect someone who probably gets their personality from Department-approved fashion magazines to understand the difference."
"Dark Shadow," Tokoyami murmured without looking up, "let us not descend to her level of petty judgments. The abyss of true darkness cares little for such superficial barbs."
"My, my... quoting from your little book of shadows, are we?" Monoma's smile turned razor-sharp. "How precious. Tell me, did the Department's Quirk Counselor recommend this particular coping mechanism, or did you develop it all on your own?"
"And you are?" Ida asked, already reaching for her handbook, probably to check protocols for addressing unprovoked hostility.
"Neito Monoma," she gave an exaggerated curtsy that somehow managed to be both perfectly proper and deeply insulting.
"Though I suppose I shouldn't expect you all to recognize true refinement when they see it. The Department's standards must be slipping... dramatically."
Her smile widened as she took in their reactions - Shiozaki's thorns extending, Ida's engines sputtering with indignation, Katsuki's palms starting to smoke. "But don't worry. I'm sure you'll all make... adequate heroes. Eventually. With enough remedial feminine etiquette classes."
"The fuck did you just say?" Katsuki's palms crackled with barely contained explosions, the scent of burnt caramel filling the air.
She rose from her desk with the kind of controlled violence that the Department spent years trying to train out of female heroes.
"Oh my," Monoma's smile widened, though she took a careful step back into the doorway. "Such aggression. Such... masculinity. Did they forget to cover basic temperance in your remedial classes, or are you simply incapable of learning proper feminine restraint?"
"I'll show you fucking restraint-" Katsuki started forward, but Ida's engines roared to life as she intervened.
"Violence between students is strictly prohibited!" Ida chopped her hands through the air in rigid patterns, probably copied directly from some Department manual on conflict resolution. "Section 4, Subsection C of the UA Student Code clearly states-"
"And now the walking rulebook is malfunctioning," Monoma sighed theatrically. "Those engines sound absolutely dreadful, dear. Have you considered a more elegant quirk manifestation? Perhaps something with wind chimes?"
"My engines are fully optimized for both power and presentation!" Ida's face flushed as her calves revved harder. "The Department of Quirk Aesthetics approved the new muffler design specifically for-"
"Fascinating," Monoma cut her off with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. "Do tell me more about how hard you had to work to make your quirk acceptable. It's so... inspiring."
"At least I'm trying to be proper," Ida protested, but her voice wavered slightly. "Unlike some who completely disregard feminine-"
Before she could finish, a thunderous shout interrupted:
"THAT'S NOT VERY WOMANLY AT ALL!"
Two voices rang out in perfect unison as a pair of students burst through the doorway, nearly bowling over Monoma in their enthusiasm. The first had spiky red hair styled into aggressive points that somehow still managed to look feminine (probably after hours of negotiation with the Department's appearance standards). The second's steel-gray hair seemed to naturally form into a perfectly maintained bob, gleaming like polished metal in the morning light.
"Picking on other students? So unwomanly!" Kirishima declared, her sharp teeth flashing in what was probably meant to be an encouraging smile. Her uniform had been modified with subtle reinforcements - necessary given her Hardening quirk's tendency to shred delicate fabrics. "A real woman faces her rivals head on! With grace and... uh... poise and stuff!"
"Yeah!" Tetsutetsu agreed, actually pounding her metal-transformed fist into her palm before quickly catching herself and making the gesture more "refined." "There's nothing womanly about sneaking around making catty remarks! A true lady shows her strength through... through..."
"Elegance?" Kirishima suggested.
"Yeah! Elegance!" Tetsutetsu nodded vigorously, her metal hair catching the light. "And... what's that other thing the Department's always going on about?"
"Refined presentation of power?"
"That's it! We gotta show our strength in ways that are totally womanly!"
The two girls beamed at each other, their identical grins reflecting a shared history of their... unique interpretation of feminine virtues. Their quirks activated in unconscious synchronization - Kirishima's skin hardening into delicate crystalline patterns while Tetsutetsu's metal transformation created swirling designs that almost looked like lace.
Monoma stared at them both, her perfect composure cracking slightly. "I... what... are you two serious?"
"Super serious!" they chorused, striking poses that were probably meant to be elegant but came across more like flexing bodybuilders trying to be dainty.
"Being womanly means being strong!" Kirishima declared.
"But like, gracefully strong!" Tetsutetsu added quickly.
"With proper feminine refinement!"
"And delicate power!"
"And-"
"Oh my god," Monoma muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "They let TWO of them in. The Department really has lost all standards."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Kirishima's skin hardened further, though she quickly tried to make the crystalline patterns more decorative. "We're totally womanly! Look, I even painted my hardening pink!"
"And I polished my metal to a mirror shine!" Tetsutetsu added, her steel surface gleaming. "The Department said that reflecting light in an aesthetically pleasing manner counts as feminine presentation!"
"Though they did suggest maybe adding some ribbons," Kirishima admitted, rubbing her neck. "Or like, making the crystals form flower patterns or something..."
"Ribbons would just get in the way during combat!" Tetsutetsu protested, then quickly added, "Not that combat should be our primary focus as proper heroines. We should emphasize grace and..."
"Elegance!" they finished together again, high-fiving with a metallic clang that made Monoma wince.
"This is actually painful to watch," Monoma drawled, examining her manicure with exaggerated disinterest. "I suppose Class 1-B truly is superior if this is the caliber of student that-"
A small explosion cut her off as Katsuki finally lost patience. "Oi, Extra! Either shut up or fucking fight!"
"Language!" Ida chopped her hands frantically. "The Department's Guidelines on Proper Female Communication clearly state-"
"Such discord," Tokoyami murmured, turning another page in her book. "How the darkness feeds on mortal squabbles."
"Can we maybe focus on being more womanly about this?" Kirishima suggested, stepping between Katsuki and Monoma with her hands raised placatingly. The gesture might have been more effective if her hardened skin wasn't forming increasingly aggressive-looking crystals. "Like, having a refined discussion about our differences?"
"Or a graceful duel!" Tetsutetsu offered excitedly, then caught herself. "With proper feminine restraint, of course!"
"There will be no dueling!" Ida's engines revved with bureaucratic panic. "Section 7, Paragraph 4 specifically prohibits-"
"Oh my, what's all this commotion about?"
The new voice cut through the chaos like silk over steel. A tall girl with a perfectly styled ponytail stood in the doorway, her presence somehow commanding attention without seeming to demand it. Her uniform was immaculate, every fold and pleat meeting Department standards while still managing to look effortlessly elegant.
The difference between her and her classmates was immediately apparent - while they all wore the standard UA uniform, hers seemed to be cut from an entirely different cloth. The fabric had a subtle sheen that spoke of custom tailoring and materials that probably cost more than a month's salary for most pro heroes. Every pleat fell with perfect precision, the blazer fitted exactly to her form without a single wrinkle or imperfection. Even the regulation red tie seemed somehow more refined around her neck, tied in an immaculate knot that made everyone else's look childish in comparison.
Her shoes, while technically within uniform guidelines, were clearly handcrafted Italian leather rather than the standard issue footwear. Her school bag was genuine designer, though tastefully understated in a way that somehow made the other students' bags look even more common by comparison. Even her hair ribbon, a simple accessory that many students wore, was clearly silk rather than the usual synthetic materials.
Everything about her screamed old money and careful breeding, from her perfect posture to the way she managed to make even standing still look like a lesson in deportment. She carried herself with the unconscious grace of someone who had probably been taking etiquette lessons since before she could walk, making the other students' attempts at "proper feminine conduct" look like clumsy imitation.
Katsuki's eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Something about this girl's perfect poise and carefully measured grace made her want to blast that composed expression right off her face. It was like looking at everything the Department wanted them to be, wrapped up in one pristine package, and it pissed her off.
"Yaoyorozu Momo," she introduced herself with a small bow that somehow made everyone else's attempts at proper etiquette look clumsy in comparison. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything... untoward?"
The way she said it made it clear she knew exactly what she was interrupting, and didn't approve.
"Just some friendly discussion about proper feminine conduct!" Kirishima said quickly, her hardening quirk receding into more acceptable patterns.
"Very friendly!" Tetsutetsu agreed, her metal surface smoothing into something less combat-ready. "Super refined and stuff!"
"I see." Yaoyorozu's smile was perfectly diplomatic as she glided to her desk, every movement a study in controlled grace. "Then perhaps we could channel this... enthusiasm... into more productive preparations for our first day of classes?"
Something about her presence seemed to defuse the tension - or at least force it into more socially acceptable channels. Even Monoma appeared slightly cowed, though she covered it with another exaggerated curtsy before retreating to her desk.
"This has been... enlightening," she said, managing to make the word sound like an insult. "Do try not to completely embarrass yourselves on the first day. It would reflect poorly on all of us."
"So unwomanly," Kirishima muttered as Monoma retreated, then brightened. "Hey, Tetsutetsu! Want to practice our Refined Combat Poses before class starts?"
"And then you just- oh hey, new faces!"
A bright voice cut through the growing tension as another student bounded into the classroom. Her golden hair was styled in a carefully maintained pixie cut (probably negotiated with the Department as a "practical accommodation" for her electricity quirk), with a striking black lightning bolt pattern dyed into the left side. The style managed to stay just within regulations while suggesting a kind of controlled chaos that matched her quirky energy.
"Ladies, ladies!" She spread her arms in an exaggerated welcoming gesture, her uniform somehow looking both perfectly pressed and slightly rumpled at the same time. "Why are we all so charged up this morning? Get it? Charged up? Because electricity?" She finger-gunned at her own pun, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief.
"I'm Denki Kaminari, your resident shock jock! Well, shock jill technically, since we're keeping things properly feminine and all that!" She winked at Yaoyorozu, who merely raised an elegant eyebrow in response. "But seriously folks, you're all looking absolutely electrifying today! Especially you with the explosions - talk about a spark of personality!"
Katsuki's growl was cut off by Kaminari's continued performance, the blonde girl practically bouncing between desks as she introduced herself.
"And you!" She pointed at Tokoyami. "Love the whole gothic chic thing! Very current! Get it? Current? I've got like a million of these, by the way. The Department actually had to create a whole new category for 'Acceptable Humor in Feminine Combat Situations' just for me!"
Dark Shadow actually snickered, earning a disapproving look from its host.
"Oh man, is that metal? And crystals?" She zipped over to Tetsutetsu and Kirishima. "You two are like walking mood rings! Super womanly mood rings, of course," she added quickly, catching Ida's concerned expression. "With proper feminine refinement and everything!"
Her energy was somehow both exhausting and infectious, filling the room with a kind of chaotic cheer that even Monoma's disdain couldn't quite dampen. She moved like a talk show host working a studio audience, each gesture broad but somehow staying just within the Department's guidelines for "appropriate feminine expression."
"I've got a feeling this year's gonna be absolutely shocking!" She declared, finally claiming a desk near the middle of the room. "Get it? Because-"
"We get it," several voices chorused, though there were more hidden smiles than actual annoyance.
"Tough crowd!" She clutched her chest dramatically. "But don't worry, I'll wear you down eventually! The Department says persistence is a feminine virtue, right? Or wait, was that patience? Proper posture? I always get those P-words mixed up!"
"And speaking of P-words," Kaminari swiveled toward Yaoyorozu's desk with an exaggerated flourish, "how about Perfect? Because wow!" She leaned forward, propping her elbows on Yaoyorozu's immaculate desk with a grin that was probably supposed to be charming. "Has anyone ever told you that you light up a room? And I would know, being an expert in lighting things up and all!"
Yaoyorozu regarded her with the kind of polite disinterest that could only be learned through generations of finishing school training. "Please remove your elbows from my desk," she said, her tone suggesting she was addressing a particularly enthusiastic child. "The Department's Guidelines on Personal Space are quite clear about appropriate boundaries between students."
"Aw, come on!" Kaminari's grin somehow got even brighter. "I'm just trying to generate some positive energy here! Get it? Generate? Because-"
"Yes, your electrical puns are quite... creative." Yaoyorozu's sigh carried centuries of aristocratic suffering. "Though perhaps you could direct your unique brand of enthusiasm elsewhere? I'm attempting to review the morning's schedule."
"Playing hard to get? That's okay - resistance just makes the current stronger!" Kaminari winked, completely unfazed by the dismissal. "Get it? Because electrical resistance-"
"I understand the scientific principle," Yaoyorozu cut her off with practiced grace. "Just as I understand that your time might be better spent preparing for class rather than practicing what I assume is your interpretation of proper social interaction."
"Ouch! That's cold!" Kaminari clutched her chest dramatically, but her golden eyes still sparkled with undiminished cheer. "Good thing I'm naturally hot! You know, because of the electrical conductivity and- hey, where are you going?"
Yaoyorozu had risen from her desk with fluid grace, gathering her designer materials with precise movements. "To find a seat more conducive to actual studying," she said, gliding toward an empty desk near the front. "Though your... energy is certainly unique."
"She totally digs me," Kaminari stage-whispered to no one in particular, still grinning. "I mean, with a quirk like that she must be loaded! Wonder if she'd let me take her fancy car for a spin - I promise I'd only short out the battery a little bit!" She waggled her eyebrows playfully. "I wonder why a girl like that would be in a school like this..."
Yaoyorozu paused, her perfect posture somehow becoming even more rigid. Without turning, she gracefully loosened her uniform tie and undid the top buttons of her blouse - a movement that would normally violate at least three Department regulations about "proper feminine modesty."
"Whoa!" Kaminari's eyes widened, her grin turning slightly nervous. "I mean, I'm flattered, but maybe we should start with coffee or-"
The words died in her throat as brilliant light erupted from Yaoyorozu's exposed skin. In a display of perfect molecular manipulation that would have made her etiquette teachers proud, she created a fully functional anti-tank cannon, complete with ornate filigree that somehow kept it within Department guidelines for "aesthetically pleasing combat equipment."
The massive weapon materialized with elegant precision, its polished barrel leveling at Kaminari's chest while still somehow maintaining proper feminine angles. All the current students scrambled back as Yaoyorozu calmly adjusted her grip on the weapon that definitely violated school regulations about appropriate quirk usage.
"I will say this once," Yaoyorozu's voice remained perfectly modulated even as she sighted down the barrel, "and with all proper feminine restraint: Your attention is neither required nor desired. Please direct your... energy elsewhere."
"That's... that's a really big gun," Kaminari managed, her usual confidence flickering like a faulty circuit. "And super pretty! Love the decorative scrollwork! Very feminine and- is that gold inlay? The Department must love your attention to aesthetic detail while threatening grievous bodily harm!"
The cannon hummed ominously, though its charging sequence somehow maintained proper acoustic standards for feminine combat equipment.
"Right! Message received!" Kaminari backed away with her hands raised, though her irrepressible grin was already returning. "Guess I should've expected a girl like you to come heavily armed! Get it? Armed? Because you made a- you know what, I'll just go charge up over here. Way over here. Where there's less artillery."
Katsuki's eyes narrowed at what she'd just witnessed. The rich girl's quirk was... something else. Creating a fucking M1A2 120mm smoothbore anti-tank cannon out of nothing? And not just some crude approximation - every detail was perfect, from the advanced autoloader system to the thermal shroud. Hell, even the bore evacuator and recoil mechanisms were textbook spec. Though all that pretentious filigree bullshit they made her add to keep it "Department appropriate" would totally fuck with the aerodynamics. Still, having memorized most of the Jane's Weapons Systems catalogue by age ten, Katsuki had to admit it was a damn impressive piece of artillery.
But more interesting was what most of these extras had missed.
Dunce Face might act like an idiot, but in the split second between the light starting to form from Ponytail's skin and the cannon actually materializing, she had already shifted her weight and adjusted her stance. It was subtle - probably wouldn't even register to anyone who hadn't spent years studying combat movements. But those golden eyes had tracked the creation process with sharp precision, her body already coiled to dodge before the weapon was fully formed.
If Ponytail had actually fired, Pikachu would have been long gone. That goofy grin never even faltered, but her reaction time was insane.
"Tch." Katsuki's palms crackled softly as she reassessed the classroom dynamics. Maybe this wouldn't be completely boring after all. Seemed like some of these extras were hiding actual skills beneath all their Department-approved bullshit.
Just as that thought crossed her mind, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The temperature in the classroom dropped several degrees before she even entered. ]
Kaminari hugged her arms around herself, her usual grin faltering slightly. Ida adjusted her glasses with a slight shiver, already mentally citing Department regulations about appropriate classroom temperatures. Kirishima's skin rippled with hardening scales as she tried to ward off the chill.
Todoroki Shoto walked in with the quiet confidence of someone who knew their place in the world but found little interest in it. Her uniform was pristine but somehow looked like armor, every fold and pleat arranged with military precision rather than the Department's prescribed "feminine grace." That distinctive hair - half red, half white, cut shorter than regulations typically allowed but no one would question Endeavor's daughter about following rules - fell in sharp lines that framed mismatched eyes.
The entire classroom fell silent. Even Kaminari's endless stream of electrical puns died mid-word.
Everyone knew who she was. Todoroki Shoto. The "perfect feminine weapon" that dominated media coverage. Endeavor's masterpiece. A recommendation student whose acceptance had been treated as a mere formality. The product of the number one hero's carefully calculated quirk marriage program.
Those heterochromatic eyes swept the room with arctic indifference - one gray, one turquoise, both cold as a winter storm. She offered no introduction, no acknowledgment of the whispers that followed her path to an empty desk. Some students unconsciously leaned away as she passed, like flowers bending away from frost.
Katsuki observed as Ice Queen settled into her chosen seat with precise, economical movements. Everything about her spoke of power barely contained by protocol - from the way she held herself (like a soldier forced into a school uniform) to the slight temperature fluctuations that rippled around her in waves of hot and cold.
The Department could dress her in their regulation uniform, could attempt to package all that raw power in their precious "feminine presentation," but there was nothing soft about Todoroki Shoto. She was a weapon, plain and simple. Engineered and trained and polished until she gleamed like a blade.
Katsuki's palms sparked with irritation, drawing a concerned look from Ida who seemed ready to cite proper quirk control regulations. But the display of barely restrained power from Half-and-Half was infuriating - that casual confidence, that icy demeanor, that absolute certainty that she stood above the Department's standards because her mother had ensured his "masterpiece" would be exempt from normal rules.
Those mismatched eyes suddenly met hers, and for a moment the temperature between them seemed to crystallize with possibility. With challenge. With the kind of raw potential for combat that the Department spent years trying to refine out of their heroines.
Then Todoroki looked away, dismissing her as easily as she'd dismissed everyone else in the room. As if Katsuki wasn't even worth considering as a potential rival.
"Oh, it was fucking on," Katsuki seethed quietly, her palms crackling with barely contained explosions. She'd show that half-and-half bitch exactly who she was dismissing.
But before she could properly express her rage in a suitably explosive manner, everyone's attention was drawn to a new distraction as the next arrival quite literally floated through the doorway.
Uraraka Ochaco drifted in several inches above the ground, her brown bob cut swaying gently as if suspended in water. Her round cheeks were flushed pink with the kind of perpetual blush that the Department probably approved of, making her look appropriately feminine even as she completely ignored proper entrance protocol by floating upside down.
"Oh!" She blinked her large brown eyes, seeming to just notice she was inverted. "The gravity's all wrong again. Don't you hate when that happens?"
She addressed this question to a potted plant in the corner, waiting several seconds for its response before remembering plants didn't talk. Usually. There was probably a quirk for that somewhere.
With a gentle tap of her fingerpads, she righted herself and settled into a more Department-approved orientation. Though she still hovered slightly above the floor, her mary jane shoes dangling just shy of contact.
"The ground looks so far away today," she mused dreamily, her gaze somewhere between the ceiling and tomorrow. "Do you think it misses us when we walk on the walls instead? I should probably apologize to it later..."
Ida's hand shot up automatically. "According to Section 2.3 of the Department's Guidelines on Proper Heroic Movement, students should maintain appropriate contact with designated walking surfaces at all times unless-"
"But then the stars get lonely," Uraraka interrupted with perfect sincerity, her head tilted at an angle that suggested she was considering the aerodynamic properties of homework. "And you know how stars are when they're lonely. All twinkly and sad and... oh look, a butterfly!"
There was no butterfly. This didn't seem to bother her in the slightest.
She drifted toward an empty desk, occasionally spinning in lazy circles as if gravity was more of a polite suggestion than a law. Her uniform somehow managed to stay perfectly modest despite her random inversions - another Department requirement that had probably taken weeks of etiquette training to master.
She trailed off, staring intently at her fingerpads as if they held the secrets of the universe. Which, given her quirk's ability to casually deny fundamental forces of nature, they might.
"Does anyone else taste colors sometimes?" she asked with genuine curiosity. "Tuesday tastes kind of purple today. But like, a floaty purple. The kind that makes your shoes want to dance..."
Several students exchanged uncertain glances, not quite sure how to respond to someone who seemed to exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously. Even Kaminari's endless stream of electrical puns had short-circuited in the face of such determined whimsy.
"Oh!" Uraraka suddenly remembered something, her face lighting up like a sunrise. "I should probably turn off my quirk before-"
She didn't finish the sentence because she was too busy discovering that gravity, when reengaged while floating three feet above a desk, had some very definite opinions about proper classroom deportment.
"The floor says hello!" she announced cheerfully from her new position sprawled across her desk. "It's much friendlier up close. Though technically everything's up close when space is relative..."
She made no move to right herself, apparently finding the horizontal position perfectly suitable for contemplating the mysteries of existence. Or possibly just watching dust motes dance in the sunbeams.
"Hey there, Gravity Girl!" Kaminari bounced over, her electrical energy meeting Uraraka's zero-gravity dreaminess in what could only be described as a physics experiment waiting to happen. "You're really floating my boat with that entrance! Get it? Because-"
"Do boats really float though?" Uraraka mused from her sideways position on the desk, watching Kaminari with upside-down fascination. "Or is it just the ocean negotiating with gravity? Like how the moon and Earth are always dancing but never quite touching... so romantic really..."
"Oh man, I totally get that!" Kaminari's grin brightened, apparently delighted to find someone operating on an equally bizarre wavelength. "It's like how my quirk makes all the lightbulbs want to dance! Though the Department says proper heroines shouldn't make electrical appliances do the cha-cha..."
"Time moves differently when you're spinning," Uraraka observed, still horizontal. "Einstein proved it, you know. Or will prove it. Time's a bit fuzzy about when things happen. Sometimes I think gravity just gets lonely and pulls everything together for company..."
"Excuse me," Shiozaki's voice cut through their increasingly abstract conversation, her vines forming disapproving coils. "But perhaps we could maintain a more... proper classroom atmosphere? The Department's guidelines on appropriate posture are quite clear-"
"But posture is just gravity's opinion," Uraraka responded dreamily, her legs now somehow above her head despite not having visibly moved. "And space-time is very flexible about opinions. Did you know that technically everything's falling all the time? We're all just falling around the sun, but the Earth keeps catching us... so thoughtful of it really..."
Kaminari snorted with barely contained laughter while Shiozaki's thorns twitched with visible frustration at trying to apply Department regulations to someone who seemed to exist in several dimensions at once.
"My, my," Monoma's voice dripped artificial sweetness as she sauntered back toward Uraraka's desk. "Aren't we just the perfect example of unrestrained quirk usage? The Department does have guidelines about proper gravitational decorum, you know."
Her perfectly manicured fingers twitched with barely concealed envy as she watched Uraraka continue to defy physics with dreamy unconcern. "Though I suppose some of us need the... attention."
"Attention is just light deciding where to look," Uraraka mused, now somehow perpendicular to reality. "Like how shadows are really just light taking a break..."
Monoma's smile sharpened as she reached toward Uraraka's exposed hand, her Copy quirk humming with anticipation. "Perhaps a practical demonstration of proper quirk control is in order-"
Her fingers froze inches from contact as Uraraka's dreamy voice took on an oddly knowing quality: "You know, we're never really touching anything. There's always space between atoms... little quantum gaps where reality gets fuzzy. Even when things seem connected, there's this tiny void where possibilities dance..."
Something in her tone made Monoma's hand tremble slightly, caught in that microscopic space between intention and action.
"The Department has lots of rules about touching," Uraraka continued airily, brown eyes suddenly focused with unsettling clarity. "But physics has older rules. About actions and reactions. About how every force has an equal and opposite..." Her smile was as distant as starlight. "And sometimes those reactions have a lot of force behind them..."
Monoma withdrew her hand as if burned, her perfect composure cracking slightly. For a moment, she seemed acutely aware of just how far down 'opposite' could be when dealing with someone who treated gravity as a polite suggestion.
"Just... maintain proper decorum," she managed, retreating with what dignity she could muster.
"Decorum?" Uraraka tilted her head, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "Decorum is just entropy in a pretty dress." and with that she went back to floating upside down.
There was a moment of peaceful contemplation. Just as the class was settling back into their usual rhythm, the classroom door didn't just open - it EXPLODED inward with a gust of wind that sent papers flying and skirts fluttering (though somehow staying within Department regulations for "proper feminine modesty").
"GREETINGS, MY MOST PASSIONATE FUTURE COLLEAGUES!"
The voice boomed through the room like a hurricane given human form. Inasa Yoarashi stood in the doorway - all six feet of her barely contained by the UA uniform. Her dark hair was buzzed short in clear defiance of Department guidelines about "appropriate feminine presentation," and her massive frame seemed to fill the entire entrance with raw enthusiasm.
"I AM OVERWHELMED WITH JOY TO SHARE THIS MOST PASSIONATE EDUCATIONAL JOURNEY WITH YOU ALL!"
The wind swirled around her as she bowed - a full ninety-degree angle performed with such vigor that her forehead cracked the floor. Nobody seemed quite sure how to respond to someone who treated volume control like a personal challenge and proper feminine restraint like a suggestion.
"Please," Ida started, already flipping through her handbook, "the Department's Guidelines on Indoor Voice Modulation clearly state-"
"SUCH PASSIONATE DEDICATION TO REGULATIONS!" Inasa straightened up, blood trickling from her forehead as she beamed at Ida. "TRULY, YOUR COMMITMENT TO ORDER BURNS WITH THE INTENSITY OF A THOUSAND SUNS!"
Small whirlwinds danced around her as she moved through the classroom, bowing repeatedly to each student with bone-crushing enthusiasm. Her uniform somehow stayed perfectly pressed despite the constant wind, though the effect was somewhat undermined by her tendency to gesture so emphatically that she occasionally lifted herself off the ground.
"YOUR EXPLOSIVE SPIRIT!" She pointed at Katsuki. "YOUR ELEGANT CREATION!" A bow toward Yaoyorozu. "YOUR CONTEMPLATION OF COSMIC FORCES!" She spun toward Uraraka. "SUCH PASSION! SUCH VIGOR! SUCH
"YOUR EXPLOSIVE SPIRIT!" She pointed at Katsuki. "YOUR ELEGANT CREATION!" A bow toward Yaoyorozu. "YOUR CONTEMPLATION OF COSMIC FORCES!" She spun toward Uraraka. "SUCH PASSION! SUCH VIGOR! SUCH-"
"Shut up."
The temperature plummeted as Todoroki's voice cut through Inasa's enthusiasm like a blade of ice. Several students shivered, pulling their uniforms tighter. "You're too loud. And passion..." her mismatched eyes fixed on Inasa with arctic disdain, "is meaningless in the face of real power."
The wind died so suddenly it left a vacuum. Inasa's massive frame went rigid, her previous enthusiasm crystallizing into something harder. More dangerous. Kaminari ducked behind her desk while Yaoyorozu's hand instinctively moved to create something defensive.
"Meaningless?" The word carried none of her earlier volume, but somehow felt louder. The air pressure in the room shifted ominously. "You think passion is meaningless, Todoroki Shoto?"
Papers began to lift from desks as the wind slowly built again, no longer playful but coiling like a storm about to break. Students scrambled to grab their belongings as notebooks took flight. The temperature fluctuated wildly as Todoroki's quirk responded to the challenge, frost creeping across her desk while steam rose from her left side.
"Passion is what separates heroes from weapons," Inasa's voice carried the weight of conviction, of ideology, of everything Endeavor's "perfect creation" represented. Ida frantically flipped through her handbook, muttering about regulations concerning quirk confrontations, while Shiozaki's vines curled protectively around nearby classmates. "But I wouldn't expect Endeavor's masterpiece to understand that."
Ice crackled as Todoroki slowly stood, her movements precise and lethal. Bakugo's hands sparked with barely contained excitement at the prospect of a fight. "Understanding isn't required for victory. Power is power. Everything else is just noise."
"ENOUGH!"
A figure appeared in the doorway, commanding attention despite - or perhaps because of - her disheveled appearance. Long black hair hung in unkempt waves around a face that spoke of too many sleepless nights and too little patience for nonsense. Her hero costume, a simple black jumpsuit, was wrinkled as if she'd just rolled out of a sleeping bag. Most striking was the grey capture weapon wrapped around her neck like a scarf, now writhing with barely contained irritation. Her bloodshot eyes, rimmed with dark circles that suggested a complicated relationship with rest, fixed first on Inasa, then Todoroki.
"If you're both so eager to prove something," her voice carried the exhausted menace of someone who had dealt with far too many estrogen-fueled showdowns, "you can do it in detention. After school. Cleaning every training facility." Her gaze swept the classroom. "Without quirks."
The wind died completely as Inasa deflated, though her massive frame still trembled with restrained emotion. Todoroki's ice retreated, but the temperature around her remained decidedly frigid.
"The Department," she continued, "has very specific guidelines about proper conflict resolution. None of them involve turning my classroom into a disaster zone." She pointed to two empty seats at opposite ends of the room. "Sit. Now."
As the two students complied, the tension slowly bled from the room. Yaoyorozu discretely created some paper towels to help clean up the mess, while Uraraka gently guided floating objects back to their proper places.
"Passion and power," her tired voice carried a hint of something deeper, "are both meaningless without control. Remember that." She turned to face the entire class, her expression suggesting she'd rather be anywhere else. "I'm Aizawa Shota. Your homeroom teacher. Try not to make me regret this more than I already do."
The rest of the class settled back into their seats, though occasional glances were still thrown between the two students who had nearly started a natural disaster over a philosophical disagreement. Ida was already drafting a proposal for updated emergency protocols, while Bakugo looked disappointed at the lack of explosion-worthy entertainment.
"Aizawa Shota," the teacher droned, already looking exhausted by the basic task of attendance. "Your homeroom teacher, though I'm starting to question my life choices. When I call your name, respond with 'present' and nothing else." Her bloodshot eyes fixed on Kaminari. "No puns."
The electric user deflated slightly but managed to contain herself as Aizawa began reading names.
"Monoma."
"Present!"
"Kaminari."
"Present."
The list continued, each student responding in turn. Katsuki's eyes drifted across the classroom, cataloging potential rivals and dismissing extras. Her gaze caught on what appeared to be an empty desk near the back corner. Who the fuck would miss the first day at UA?
"Hagakure Toru."
"Present."
The word seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, a hollow monotone that made several students jump. Kaminari actually yelped, her quirk briefly shorting out the lights. The voice had emanated from the supposedly empty desk, echoing with an unsettling resonance that felt wrong somehow, like sound traveling through void rather than air.
Shiozaki's vines coiled tighter around her shoulders as she made a small sign of warding. Even Tokoyami looked unsettled, Dark Shadow ducking behind its host. Uraraka's eyes suddenly locked onto the empty desk with intense focus, her head tilting curiously as if seeing something fascinating that others couldn't perceive.
Katsuki's eyes narrowed, studying the empty space with new intensity. How the fuck had she missed someone sitting there? Her combat instincts were better than that.
"Ah," Yaoyorozu managed, her perfect composure cracking slightly. "I... I don't believe we've had the pleasure of..."
"No," the voice responded, still eerily monotone, still seeming to come from multiple directions at once. "You haven't."
Silence fell again, heavy with unasked questions.
"First a demon, and now a ghost," Shiozaki whispered, her vines weaving intricate crosses and protective sigils in the air as she clutched her rosary beads so tightly her knuckles turned white. "This classroom truly needs His divine protection. Lord, shield us from these unholy manifestations."
"Not a ghost," the hollow voice responded, its otherworldly resonance making several students flinch and causing the temperature to seemingly drop several degrees. "Ghosts were once visible. They had form before losing it. I never had that luxury."
"Oh!" Uraraka perked up, though she remained unusually still, her eyes taking on that distant look she got when contemplating the fundamental forces of the universe. "Like how light sometimes forgets where it's supposed to go? Or maybe it just got shy and decided to take a different path... quantum mechanics can be so indecisive sometimes, always superpositioned between here and there..."
"Light doesn't forget," the voice responded, a deep bitterness creeping into its hollow tone that spoke of years of isolation. "It simply... refuses to acknowledge some of us. As if we're beneath its notice, unworthy of its touch."
"That must make clothes shopping difficult," Uraraka mused dreamily, tilting her head at an angle that seemed to defy conventional geometry, her hair floating upward despite gravity's usual preferences. "Is that why you're naked? Because the photons won't play nice with fabric either?"
The classroom erupted into absolute chaos:
"MOST IMPROPER!" Ida chopped her hands frantically, nearly giving herself whiplash as she tried to look everywhere except the empty desk while simultaneously flipping through her handbook with such speed the pages threatened to catch fire. "Section 4, Subsection C clearly states all students must be properly attired! Though it fails to address the specific case of natural invisibility..."
"How delightfully scandalous," Monoma drawled with aristocratic disdain, though she shifted her chair slightly further away and crossed her legs primly. "I suppose UA truly will admit anyone these days."
Shiozaki's vines burst into full bloom, forming an elaborate green lattice of modesty screens while she fervently muttered prayers about temptation, proper feminine virtue, and the importance of maintaining decorum in educational institutions.
"Now that's what I call a transparent violation of dress code!" Kaminari quipped, electricity crackling in her hair from excitement, earning multiple groans and one particularly withering look from Momo.
"You... you can see me?" The hollow voice wavered for the first time, losing some of its ethereal quality as genuine emotion - hope mixed with disbelief - crept in. "That's... that's impossible."
"Oh no, of course not!" Uraraka replied airily, now somehow sitting completely upside down in her chair, defying both gravity and common sense with cheerful abandon. " but gravity and I are good friends, and she tells me where everything is, even when light gets confused and starts to dance around you. Photons can be so silly sometimes, always rushing about without stopping to say hello"
"I... see," the voice responded uncertainly, clearly unsure how to handle someone who treated fundamental forces of nature as gossipy acquaintances.
Katsuki watched the interaction with narrowed eyes, her analytical mind working overtime. If Uraraka could detect this invisible student through her quirk's connection to gravity, that meant they had mass. They weren't some ghostly apparition or optical illusion - they were physically present, just... imperceptible. Interesting.
"Enough," Aizawa cut in, her voice carrying the weary tone of someone who had long since given up on maintaining normal classroom dynamics. "Hagakure, while your... unique situation presents certain challenges, you'll still need to comply with UA's dress code. I'll speak with Support Department about developing suitable alternatives."
"Yes, sensei," the hollow voice replied, subdued but with a hint of that earlier hope still lingering. "Thank you."
"Now then," Aizawa continued, returning to her list as if invisible, potentially naked students were an everyday occurrence. "Iida Tenya."
"PRESENT!" Iida's hand chopp kiled through the air with mechanical precision, though her usual intensity seemed slightly dampened by lingering confusion over proper protocol regarding unseeable classmates.
Borrowed Breath
The Department's Thirteen Essential Qualities of Heroic Grace
1. Grace Under Pressure - All movements should flow like water, even during intense combat situations.
2. Aesthetic Harmony - Quirks must be visually pleasing while maintaining optimal effectiveness.
3. Modest Presentation - Costumes and actions must exemplify proper decorum and elegance.
4. Refined Communication - Speech should be gentle, clear, and appropriately modulated at all times.
5. Delicate Resolution - Combat solutions should minimize property damage and maintain aesthetic appeal.
6. Proper Deportment - Posture and bearing must reflect societal ideals in all situations.
7. Voice Modulation - Maintain melodious tones even when issuing commands.
8. Graceful Combat Integration - Fighting styles must incorporate traditionally elegant elements.
9. Emotional Refinement - Raw displays of power must be tempered with proper restraint.
10. Quirk Presentation Standards - Power manifestations should emphasize beauty over brute force.
11. Social Propriety - Interactions with civilians and other heroes must exemplify proper etiquette.
12. Environmental Awareness - Heroic activities should consider aesthetic impact on surroundings.
13. Perpetual Poise - Maintain composed dignity even in crisis situations.
Department Note: These qualities form the foundation of modern heroic society and must be internalized by all licensed heroes. Regular evaluation of adherence to these standards is mandatory for continued hero certification.