Your sneakers squeaked against the polished floor as you rounded the corner toward the dormitory wing. The campus felt quieter than usual. Most of your classmates were probably still in the common room, decompressing after Aizawa's surprise combat drills.

A familiar weight pressed against your collarbone—the headphones around your neck. You'd paused your music before entering the main building, but the lyrics still echoed in your head.

"Who was I born to be?"

You stopped walking.

From down the hall, voices drifted toward you. Laughter. Your classmates'.

The common room door was cracked open, spilling warm light onto the floor. Through the gap, you could see fragments of movement—someone's hand gesturing wildly, a flash of green hair, the back of a familiar red jacket.

They hadn't noticed you yet.

They never did.

A girl about your age stood a few feet away, pink skin gleaming under the fluorescent lights, horn-like protrusions curving from her temples. Mina Ashido. Class 1-A. She was smiling, but there was something uncertain flickering in her golden eyes.