As the ball disappears into the stratosphere, the silence on the P.E. grounds is deafening. The device in Aizawa's hand blinks the word infinity, a result so outlandish it sends shockwaves through the class.

"No way!" the students cry out, their voices a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Uraraka bounces in excitement, clapping her hands together. "That was amazing, Y/N! You really showed them how it's done!" Her enthusiasm is almost infectious, but you simply tilt your head in her direction and nod, offering her a faint, enigmatic smile.

Izuku stares at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he's trying to say something but can't find the words. You step back beside him, standing with quiet poise, your hands tucked casually into the pockets of your uniform. His green eyes are wide, sparkling with a mix of admiration and astonishment.

"That was nothing," you say in a tone that suggests it was everything. The faint trace of a smirk dances across your lips.

Aizawa's gaze sharpens as he lowers the device, his black eyes narrowing slightly. He steps forward, his scarf rustling faintly in the breeze. "That wasn't just strength or precision," he remarks, his tone low but clear. "What exactly are you?"

You glance at him with a cool indifference, your eyes glinting like steel in the sunlight. "A student, apparently," you reply smoothly, gesturing to the uniform as if it speaks for itself.

The tension lingers between you and the teacher for a long moment before Aizawa finally clicks his tongue, waving a dismissive hand. "Tch. Let's see if the rest of you can at least keep it within this dimension," he mutters, turning his attention back to the clipboard.

You lean back slightly, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you watch the other students prepare for their attempts. Izuku tugs on your sleeve lightly, his expression still flustered.

"Y-Y/N, that was incredible," he says, his voice filled with earnest amazement.

"Was it?" you ask, teasingly, your voice low enough that only he hears. The playful glint in your eyes softens his nerves and makes his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red.

As the next student steps up to take their turn, you stand quietly beside him, observing the proceedings with an air of detached elegance. You know this is just the beginning—and from the looks the others are giving you, they know it too.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

The results come in quickly, with Aizawa's usual blunt delivery cutting through the buzzing anticipation. You scan the rankings casually, unsurprised to see your name at the top. A small smirk plays on your lips as you glance over at Izuku, whose name sits firmly at the bottom. His face falls, but before he can spiral into self-doubt, you place a steady hand on his shoulder.

"You're here, Izuku," you say, your voice low and soothing. "That's what matters."

Before he can respond, Aizawa interrupts, his dry tone carrying across the field. "Oh, and yes, that thing about expelling all of you? Just a lie. It was a motivational tool to make sure you put in maximum effort."

A collective gasp rises from the class.

"WHAT?!" Bakugo explodes, his voice rattling through the group like a shockwave. You flinch slightly at the volume, your fingers tightening reflexively on Izuku's shoulder.

Another voice cuts through Bakugo's outburst—a high-pitched, haughty tone. "I suppose I should have said something," remarks a girl with sharp features and a polished air, flipping her perfectly styled hair over her shoulder. "But I thought it was obvious." Her eyes dart to the others as she sneers, a touch of superiority in her smirk.

Your gaze flickers to her briefly, unamused. "Not everyone sees the world through your lens, princess," you say, the faintest edge of sarcasm in your tone.

The girl's face twitches, clearly unused to being challenged. She huffs but doesn't respond, instead crossing her arms and turning her nose up.

Izuku looks up at you, wide-eyed, as if your simple act of standing by him has anchored him back in place. You give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, stepping back just as Aizawa ushers the class toward the next phase of their day.

As the group disperses, Bakugo stomps past with a snarl, his crimson eyes locking briefly onto yours before flicking away in frustration. You watch him go, unbothered, as you fall into step beside Izuku and Uraraka.

"I'm still in," Izuku says quietly, mostly to himself, his voice carrying a faint sense of wonder.

"You're more than in," you reply, your voice firm. "You're exactly where you need to be."

Izuku smiled at you, a soft blush coloring his cheeks. "Thank you, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. You responded with a warm smile, wrapping one of your wings around him protectively, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence. In your own quiet way, you were reassured by his sincerity, unaware of the jealous, envious stares that followed you both from your classmates.

Aizawa's voice cut through the air. "Alright, you can all leave now, but pick up a curriculum in the classroom before you head out." With a tired sigh, he turned to leave, his disinterested expression as cold as ever. You, along with Izuku, Uraraka, and the others, made your way to the locker rooms.

The scent of fresh soap and warm air greeted you as you stepped into the girls' locker room. As you walked past the row of lockers, you couldn't help but feel a certain tension in the air. It wasn't long before you were approached by the rich girl, the one with the carefully put-together appearance. You had already caught her name earlier—Momo, and you could tell from the sharpness of her eyes and her well-defined posture that she carried herself like someone used to being in charge.

"So, what's your deal?" Momo asked, her arms crossed and her tone a little colder than necessary. She was eyeing you carefully, like she was trying to assess whether you were a threat or not.

You tilted your head slightly, a quiet smile curling at your lips. "I'm Y/N. Nothing else." You didn't feel the need to elaborate, your cool tone leaving no room for argument.

Momo stared at you for a moment longer, her lips pursed in thought. Before she could say anything else, the pink-haired girl beside her—Mina—nudged her with a gentle, but firm hand on the shoulder.

"Momo, be a little nice. She's new to Japan, right?" Mina's voice was much lighter, more carefree than Momo's, and she gave you an apologetic smile, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. You could tell she was trying to smooth things over, but Momo's cold air hadn't disappeared entirely.

Momo's gaze flickered from Mina to you, still wary, but she didn't say anything else. "Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you," she said, her voice now a little more neutral, as if she were assessing whether you were a friend or a foe.

You nodded, not feeling particularly threatened. "Do what you must."

Izuku and Uraraka had already moved toward their lockers, unaware of the brief exchange behind them, but when you caught up to them, Izuku smiled and gave you a thumbs up.

"You handled that well," Izuku said softly, his smile genuine.

You gave him a small smile back, brushing off the encounter. "It's nothing," you replied. "Let's just get through today."

As you all gathered your things and left the locker room, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the class's eyes on you. But it didn't matter. What mattered was Izuku—and the rest could fall into place after that.