In the front row, Class 1-A sat in disciplined silence, though some—like Kaminari, who was drumming his fingers on his knee, and Ashido, who was bouncing slightly in her seat—couldn't quite contain their energy. Others, like Todoroki, sat motionless, hands folded, face unreadable. Midoriya had his notebook out, scribbling furiously, muttering under his breath about quirk mechanics and rescue scenarios.

Bakugo sat with his arms crossed, legs sprawled, glaring at the stage as if it had personally offended him. A few seats away, Kirishima leaned forward, flashing a grin at the back of the auditorium. And right beside him, quiet and composed, sat—