UA life hit me like a truck. A truck with "Welcome to Hero Training, Good Luck Not Dying" painted on the side. Every day was a parade of quirks, ego clashes, and the occasional flying desk when Kacchan got too excited. And me? I was the quirkless enigma in the corner.

Honestly, I didn't mind that everyone avoided me. Most of the class didn't seem to know how to approach a guy who couldn't summon ice, fire, explosions, or whatever else they had going on. They'd glance in my direction like I was a new species of animal they were unsure about petting. Would I bite? Would I cry? The suspense was killing them, I'm sure.

It was kind of amusing, though. While the others were loud and eager to show off their quirks, I was content to observe. They probably thought I was brooding in my quirkless misery or something, but the truth? I was taking mental notes on all of them. You never know when someone's flashy quirk might come in handy... or when you might need to turn them into a sparkly ballerina to knock them down a peg.

Except for Todoroki. He was... different.

Where the rest of the class avoided me like I had some kind of "quirkless plague," Todoroki seemed almost curious. He didn't avoid me. In fact, I'd catch him sneaking glances my way every now and then, his mismatched eyes giving me the kind of look you'd expect from a scientist studying a particularly confusing lab rat.

At first, I ignored it. Todoroki wasn't exactly a chatty guy, and I figured he was just... zoning out or something. But no. One day, while the rest of the class was busy gossiping or flexing their quirks during break, Todoroki came over to my desk and just... stood there.

"Can I help you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're different," he said simply, like he was stating the weather or the color of my hair.

"Wow, sharp observation skills. I am quirkless, after all," I replied, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms. "What gave it away? The fact that I didn't set anything on fire during the last exercise?"

He tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to figure out if I was being sarcastic or just bitter. (Spoiler: I was both.)

"It's not that," he said after a moment. "You're... quiet. Most people here aren't."

"That's because I have nothing to prove," I said, smirking. "Unlike the rest of you, I don't need to announce myself with flashy quirks and dramatic speeches."

Todoroki's lips twitched, and I thought he might actually smile for a second. Instead, he just nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me sitting there wondering what the hell had just happened. Did I just make a friend? An enemy? A rival? Who knew? All I could say for sure was that Todoroki was officially on my radar.

The rest of the class, meanwhile, continued their careful avoidance of me. Not that I cared. I wasn't here to make friends. I was here to survive, thrive, and maybe mess with Kacchan a little along the way.

Speaking of Kacchan, he was still sore about the whole hallway transformation incident. Every time he glanced at me, I could see the barely-contained urge to blow something up. But he hadn't acted on it yet, probably because he knew I could and would turn him into Princess Explosia in front of the whole class again if he stepped out of line.

Honestly, life at UA wasn't so bad. Sure, I wasn't exactly blending in, but that was fine by me. I didn't need to blend in. I just needed to stay one step ahead of everyone else.

Spending time with Todoroki was... surprisingly easy. He didn't talk much, which suited me just fine, and when he did talk, it was usually straightforward. None of that awkward small talk or fake niceties that most people fumble through. He'd just drop in with statements like, "You eat a lot of rice," or "You're left-handed," as if we were playing a game of Stating the Obvious: Advanced Edition.

Still, he had this calm, almost detached vibe that I found oddly comforting. Unlike Kacchan, who was all explosions and yelling, or the rest of the class, who avoided me like I was contagious, Todoroki just... existed. Quietly. No drama, no judgment. It was kind of refreshing.

One day, after class, we found ourselves sitting under a tree on campus. The other students were scattered around, either training or socializing, but Todoroki and I had gravitated to the quietest corner we could find.

"You're really okay with being quirkless?" he asked out of nowhere, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. "That's... a loaded question," I said with a dry laugh. "Define 'okay.'"

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he seemed to be mulling something over. Finally, he said, "I hate my quirk."

That made me sit up a little straighter. "You what?"

He turned to look at me, his mismatched eyes serious. "I hate it. I didn't choose to be born with it. I didn't ask for this... power. And I definitely didn't ask to be used because of it."

Oof. That was heavy. I wasn't sure what I was expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn't that.

"Well," I said after a moment, "as someone who didn't get a quirk, let me just say... it's not exactly a walk in the park, either. You ever try getting through middle school without being reminded every single day that you're 'less than'? Because trust me, it sucks."

Todoroki tilted his head slightly, like he was genuinely trying to imagine it. "Maybe," he said, "but at least you don't have to live up to anyone's expectations. No one's trying to control you."

"That's true," I admitted. "But you also don't get any of the perks. No shortcuts, no easy wins, no flashy hero moments. Just... endless uphill battles."

We sat in silence for a while after that, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, because I couldn't resist, I said, "Hypothetically speaking... what would you say if you could trade your quirk for a different kind of power?"

Todoroki raised an eyebrow. "What kind of power?"

"Oh, you know, something cool," I said, waving a hand vaguely. "Super strength, energy blasts, maybe the ability to turn your enemies into glittering ballerinas. The only catch is... the costume. It's a little, uh... sparkly."

His expression didn't change, but I could see the faintest flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Sparkly how?"

"Think sequins," I said, holding up my hands as if framing a picture. "Maybe some frills. Definitely a cape. And let's not forget the occasional dramatic pose."

Todoroki actually smiled at that—just a tiny one, but it was there. "Sounds ridiculous."

"Oh, it is ridiculous," I said with a grin. "But it's also effective. Trust me, nothing throws your enemies off their game like a little unexpected sparkle."

He shook his head, but he didn't dismiss the idea entirely. "I don't think I could pull that off."

"You'd be surprised," I said, leaning back against the tree. "Sometimes the most unexpected things turn out to be the most powerful. And besides... you'd look great in sparkles."

Todoroki didn't respond to that, but I could see the faintest hint of amusement in his expression. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand that power didn't always have to come in the form of fire and ice. Sometimes, it came in the form of a ridiculous costume and a little bit of flair.