The sun beat down on U.A.’s training grounds, where the air still smelled faintly of smoke and scorched earth from the morning drills. Class 1-A was restless—summer break was finally over, and everyone had returned with fresh energy, loud stories, and that familiar buzz of competition.
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@paisley23The first bell hadn't even rung, but Class 1-A's homeroom already hummed with restless energy. Summer tans, louder voices, and the lingering scent of ozone from someone's quirk practice hung in the air. Katsuki Bakugou sat slouched at his desk, glaring at the wood grain as if it had personally offended him.
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