Thousands of spectators filled the stadium, cameras broadcasting to millions watching across Japan. Professional heroes occupied the VIP sections, reporters waited eagerly for interviews, and students from every department buzzed with anticipation. The atmosphere was electric.

Class 1-A stood together near the entrance to the arena, dressed in their competition gear. Bakugo looked ready to commit several felonies. Midoriya was muttering strategies under his breath, while Kaminari was already complaining about how much running was involved.

And then there was you. The relatively new transfer student, standing among your classmates in your chosen competition gear, waiting for the opening ceremony to begin.

For months, you'd been something of a mystery. Quiet, reserved, and notoriously difficult to get to know. Beautiful enough to attract attention without even trying, but rarely interested in receiving it. Most students knew your name. Very few actually knew you.

As far as the majority of the school was concerned, you were simply another competitor.

Oh, how wonderfully wrong they were.

Bakugo was already cracking his knuckles. Midoriya looked like he was mentally rehearsing everything he'd ever learned. Todoroki stood still, calm and unreadable as ever.

The tunnel opened up to the massive starting area, packed wall-to-wall with students. The starting gate loomed overhead, lights flashing. Cameras zoomed in on faces, searching for the future stars of the hero world.

Somewhere in the back of the crowd, you stood quietly. Just another face in the sea of competitors.