After lunch, as we all trickled back into the classroom, there was a nervous buzz in the air. Most of the students were still getting to know each other, but the reality of being at U.A. was starting to sink in.

And then, Aizawa walked in, looking as sleep-deprived as ever. His unenthusiastic expression didn't exactly scream "motivational homeroom teacher."

"All right, listen up," he said, his tone flat. "We're heading outside. Physical evaluation test. Bring your A-game—or pack your bags."

The room went silent. Dead silent.

"Wait, what?" a girl with pink hair and horns blurted out.

"What do you mean 'pack your bags'?" another student, the boy with glasses, asked in a panicked voice.

Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck like he couldn't believe he had to spell it out. "I mean the worst-ranked student in this test gets expelled. Simple as that."

Expelled?! On the first day?!

There were some more murmurs of disbelief, but Aizawa shut them down with a pointed glare. "You came here to become heroes. If you can't handle being evaluated, you don't belong here."

I swallowed hard, my hands clenching into fists. Great. First day, and I'm already fighting for survival.

"Now, move it," Aizawa said, walking out of the room without waiting for us to follow.

Outside, we were led to a massive training field. It was outfitted with every kind of physical testing equipment imaginable, from long jump pits to track lanes to obstacle courses that looked like they belonged in a ninja warrior competition.

"Let's start with something simple," Aizawa said, gesturing to a line of throwing circles marked on the ground. "Ball throw. Use your Quirk to throw as far as you can. Bakugo, you're up first."

I didn't have to see Bakugo's smug grin to know he was going to relish this. He stepped up to the circle, grabbed the ball, and casually ignited an explosion in his palm as he threw it.

"Die, stupid ball!" he shouted as the ball rocketed into the distance.

The meter on Aizawa's device ticked up rapidly before stopping at an absurd number.

"Seven hundred and twenty-one meters," Aizawa announced.

The class erupted into impressed whispers, and Bakugo smirked like he'd just won a championship.

One by one, the rest of the class went up, showing off their Quirks in increasingly creative and ridiculous ways. Someone turned the ball into a cannonball of light. Another used vines to fling it like a catapult. Even the girl with the gravity Quirk sent it soaring far beyond what seemed possible.

And then it was my turn.

I stepped up to the circle, the ball feeling heavier than it had any right to. My palms were already sweating.

"No Quirk, huh?" Aizawa asked, his sharp gaze narrowing.

I nodded.

"Figure it out," he said, his tone as blunt as ever.

I took a deep breath, gripping the ball tightly. All right, Izuku. Think.

If I couldn't rely on a Quirk, I'd have to use the one thing I always had—my brain. I scanned the field, my mind racing through potential angles, trajectories, and physics calculations.

Finally, I adjusted my stance, bracing myself. Using every ounce of strength I had, I hurled the ball as hard as I could.

It wasn't the farthest throw, not by a long shot, but it wasn't embarrassing either. The numbers on Aizawa's device ticked up to a respectable 50 meters.

The rest of the tests didn't get any easier. There was the 50-meter dash, which was a breeze for some students who could teleport or boost their speed with their Quirks. There was a grip strength test, a sidestep test, and more.

But the one that caught my attention was the obstacle course.

A sprawling maze of walls, ropes, and platforms stood before us, daring us to conquer it. As the other students lined up, I stepped to the back of the group, studying the layout.

This was my chance. I might not have a flashy Quirk, but I'd been training for years, honing my agility and parkour skills.

When it was finally my turn, I took off like a shot.

My legs pumped as I leapt over the first hurdle, barely breaking stride. A wall came up next, but I was ready. My hands found the edges, and I pulled myself up with practiced ease, swinging over and landing smoothly on the other side.

The ropes were tricky, but I used my momentum to swing through, landing on the next platform with a sense of triumph.

As I moved through the course, I could feel the eyes of the other students on me.

"Doesn't even have a Quirk, and he's still keeping up," someone muttered.

"That's nuts," another voice said.

The whispers fueled me, pushing me to go faster, climb higher, leap farther. By the time I reached the finish line, I was out of breath but grinning.

The rest of the tests were a blur. I knew I wasn't going to place first—there were just too many students with incredible Quirks—but I wasn't going to be last either.

When the final rankings were posted, I scanned the list nervously.

10th place.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

As the sun began to set, Aizawa called us all together.

"Good work today," he said, though his tone was as indifferent as ever. "Most of you didn't completely embarrass yourselves. For now, you're all still here. But don't think for a second that I won't expel someone if they're not up to par."

He glanced at me for a moment, and I could've sworn there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes before he turned away.

As we filed back inside, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.

I did it. I proved I belong here.