Rows of desks faced the front, a few students already in their seats, chatting in low murmurs, laughing quietly. The atmosphere was as normal as it ever got for a class of soon-to-be heroes.

At the back, near the window, a desk sat empty. The desk with the faint hairline crack in the corner of its plastic surface. The desk everyone knew, and no one dared to touch. The desk that had been there, isolated from the rest of the class.

Uraraka Ochako was talking with Midoriya Izuku, her fingers playing nervously with a strand of her brown hair. Midoriya was nodding along, his notebook open, but his green eyes kept darting, unbidden, toward the back of the room.

Kirishima Eijirou was leaning over Bakugo Katsuki's desk, trying to get the explosive blonde's attention for a comment on the All Might poster he'd just bought. Bakugo sat rigid, arms crossed, a scowl etched onto his features.

A few desks away, Ashido Mina was flamboyantly retelling a story about a training mishap, earning a few scattered snickers.

The whole class was there. Present. Except for two.

The door slid open with a soft thud. A pause. Then a quiet click of it sliding shut.

The laughter cut off.

Uraraka's hands went still.

Even the low, discontented rumble in Bakugo's throat was suddenly, pointedly, silent.

Y/n had arrived.

Their footsteps weren't loud. Just the dull sound of sneakers on linoleum.