Students streamed through the main gates in clusters, laughing, chatting, and bumping shoulders. The famous U.A. – where the country's finest heroes were forged.

Your transfer papers felt heavy in your bag. Third year. Class 3-A. The recommendation slot that came with strings your mother pulled.

A cluster of students ahead caught your eye. They were unmistakable – the signatures of Class A. A green-haired boy with freckles was gesturing animatedly about something, while a scowling ash-blond shoved past him with a growled comment.