Second year had begun at U.A., but the halls didn’t feel like home yet. The war had ended, leaving echoes of chaos in every corner—broken walls, patched-up uniforms, and the weight of memories that refused to fade. Y/N walked between the classrooms like a shadow, guitar case slung over her shoulder, notebook pressed to her chest. She was quirkless, as she had always been, and in a school of heroes, that made her almost invisible.