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In the quiet halls of U.A. High, a group of seasoned Pro Heroes stood gathered in the faculty lounge, reviewing the entrance exam results. Papers shuffled, digital screens blinked with stats, and voices murmured with curiosity and intrigue.
“Third place,” someone muttered, eyes narrowing at the screen. “That girl—Hikari. She scored incredibly high in rescue points, especially after healing that green-haired boy.”
“She didn't just heal him,” another teacher added, tapping a screen. “She stabilized multiple injuries under high stress and still managed to hold her own during combat. We may need to reevaluate how we rank rescue support versus combat performance.”
“And Midoriya… seventh?” someone else remarked in awe. “No Quirk to start with, then suddenly—he activates a powerful ability during the exam and saves someone. That kind of spirit can’t be taught.”
A knowing silence fell over the room. The name All Might wasn't spoken, but it lingered in the air like an unspoken truth.
Meanwhile…
Hikari sat on the edge of her neatly made bed, her phone glowing with unread messages.
All from Ka-Chan.
For the last ten months, Katsuki Bakugo had called. Texted. Showed up unannounced. Sometimes he’d wait outside her apartment for hours, arms crossed, scowling at nothing. Like always, he never said the words she needed to hear. Just… waited.
But Hikari wasn’t stupid.
She had cameras on every hallway. The first floor of her apartment building—the entire floor—belonged to her. A gift from her father. He'd paid off every tenant in cash and remodeled the space into a studio haven just for her. Her own safe bubble in a world that once tore her apart.
Sometimes she crashed at Midoriya’s place instead. His mom adored her, called her “sweet girl” and treated her like a daughter. It was warm there. Peaceful. Familiar.
And today?
She wasn’t going to let drama get to her.
Today was the first day of U.A. High.
She stepped outside just as Midoriya opened the door to greet her, eyes wide with excitement. The two of them walked together down the sunlit street—like they had every morning for years. A quiet calm settled over them.
But a part of Hikari’s heart tugged elsewhere.
She wished she could’ve walked with Shoto instead. Maybe next time.
Still, the butterflies in her stomach had nothing to do with Midoriya or Shoto. It was the staff at U.A.—the very people she knew personally. And now… her own biological father was one of the teachers.
All Might.
Seriously?!
Hikari groaned. She debated faking sick. But no—if she skipped, her dad would show up to check on her. And so would Shoto. Crap. No escaping today.
She sighed, her thoughts spiraling.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡATqI2cJKdk
“Today’s gonna be pure chaos,” she muttered under her breath.
Classroom 1-A
As soon as they walked in, chaos greeted them like an old friend.
“Move it, nerd!” Bakugo barked at a boy with glasses. He was already causing problems.
Geez, Hikari thought, Ten months and he still acts like he owns the world.
Her eyes scanned the classroom—and then stopped.
Near the window, in the back corner, sat Shoto Todoroki. His heterochromatic eyes were lost in the view outside. The morning sun caught the red-and-white strands of his hair, making them glow like embers and snow.
Hikari smiled softly.
She approached, tossing her bag on the empty desk in front of him.
“You forgot I like this seat,” she teased, sliding into her chair.
He glanced at her and smiled—a rare, quiet smile that reached his eyes.
“I didn’t forget. That’s why I took it,” he said calmly. “So you’d find me faster.”
Her heart skipped.
She looked away, cheeks slightly pink.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr22PHqDXAA
“Still a smooth bastard, huh?”
Before she could enjoy the moment, her gaze drifted toward the back of the classroom—where Bakugo stood frozen, glaring at her. She stuck out her tongue and pulled down one eyelid at him like a brat.
Yes, I left Deku to deal with the chaos alone. Let him make some new friends for once.
Flashback: Ten Months Ago
Deku's voice echoed in her mind—pleading, bruised. That day when Bakugo lost it on him… because she hadn’t returned his calls… because she dared to choose someone else’s side.
Her fault, maybe. But that didn’t make it okay.
Training Field – Quirk Assessment Test
Standing in line with the rest of Class 1-A, Hikari crossed her arms. Aizawa spoke in a dry monotone about Quirks and expectations, but she barely listened.
She didn’t want to use her powers today.
Too many Pro Heroes were watching. Too many eyes would analyze her movements, try to decipher her secrets. She didn’t want the world to know how powerful she really was. Not yet.
Best strategy? Play it down. Appear average.
She watched Midoriya struggle beside her, sweating bullets. His anxiety bled through his every movement. The moment he stepped up to throw the ball, everyone stared. The tension thickened.
“You planning to break your arm again, Midoriya ?” Aizawa sneered as he narrowed his eyes.
Just as Midoriya wound up, Hikari stepped forward, her voice slicing through the tension.
“Back off, Eraserhead,” she snapped.
The class went silent.
“You’re singling him out, and I don’t like it. He’s doing his best, and I won’t let you humiliate him.” Her eyes gleamed with a protective fire. “So what if he can’t control his Quirk yet? I’ve got more powers than I can count, and I still lose control. You want someone to pick on? Pick me.”
She grabbed Midoriya’s hand, squeezing it gently.
“Do your best, Deku. You’ve always been my hero. Don’t worry—I’ve got your back.”
She kissed his cheek.
Bakugo’s temper snapped. His hands flared, sparking with fire.
Shoto turned, watching with careful eyes.
Midoriya stepped up again. He threw the ball—BOOM.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVD1GviDA2a
It soared through the sky, a streak of effort and power. The score lit up.
Hikari whooped with pride, racing to hug him.
“I knew you could do it!” she beamed, holding him tight.
Bakugo charged forward, face red, fists clenched.
But Hikari stepped between them, eyes glowing.
“Touch him,” she hissed, “and we’re done. For good. Not even if you beg.”
The class gasped.
“Wait—you two dated?!”
Bakugo stopped cold. His chest heaved with rage, but he didn’t make a move. He couldn’t.
Not when her eyes looked that serious. Trust me if look could kill Bakugo would had been died on the spot he stood.
Bakugo stopped cold. His chest heaved with rage, but he didn’t make a move. He couldn’t.
Late on after the test was over That’s when she heard him.
“Hey,” came a voice from behind her—dry, casual, and almost bored. Aizawa.
He leaned against the railing, scarf draped around his shoulders like a lazy cat. His hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in days.
“You’re not suppose to be here.”
“You and I both know you couldn't keep me out if you tried,” Hikari muttered, eyes still locked on Midoriya. “As long as he is here I am not going anywhere."
Aizawa studied her for a beat, squinting through half-lidded eyes.
“You really are your father’s daughter.”
She turned slowly, her voice flat. “No. I’m not.”
A flicker of something—surprise?—crossed his face. Then a nod. He understood more than he let on.
Back on the field, Midoriya stumbled, clearly hurt from the strain of his Quirk. Hikari was already moving before the buzzer finished sounding.
“Let’s go,” Aizawa said. “You have a recovery Quirk don't you,?”
She didn't listen to him as if he didn't know every power she had in her body.
Midoriya’s arm was trembling when she reached him.
“You okay?” she asked gently.
“I think so,” he smiled weakly.
She pressed two fingers to his injury. A soft golden light pulsed through her touch. The pain ebbed, his breathing slowed.
A voice behind them asked, “Is healing one of your Quirks?”
Hikari didn’t even glance up. “One of the main ones,” she said with a dry smirk. “I’m basically a walking med kit.”
Bakugo stepped forward, eyes still blazing. “You didn’t answer my texts.”
Still crouched, still focused on Midoriya, she replied, “No. I didn’t.”
“You really gonna ignore me?”
She rose slowly, her expression calm but cold. “You tried to blow him up.”
Bakugo’s mouth opened to argue—but Aizawa cut in.
“Enough. We’re done here.”
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