The hum of nervous chatter filled the Class 1-A homeroom as students anxiously speculated about their performance in the finals. Those who believed they had failed the practical section were especially on edge, their fears painted across their faces. Denki looked like he was about to cry, Mina kept wringing her hands, and even Kirishima was unusually quiet, his usually bright demeanor dampened by worry.

"They can't really stop us from going to training camp, right?" Mina muttered to no one in particular, her voice tinged with desperation.

"I mean, it's supposed to be training, so why wouldn't they let us go?" Kirishima added, though his tone lacked conviction.

The door slid open, and all conversation ceased immediately. Aizawa entered the room with his usual tired expression, his scarf loosely wrapped around his shoulders. His gaze swept across the room, and he let out a long-suffering sigh as if he could feel the collective tension radiating from his students.

"All of you will be going to the training camp, regardless of your results in the final exams," he announced, his tone as flat and direct as ever.

For a moment, the class was silent, as though they hadn't quite processed his words. Then, a wave of relief swept through the room, with students cheering and slumping back into their seats with audible sighs of gratitude.

"But wait," Ochaco said, her brow furrowed. "If that's the case, then why were we so worried about passing?"

Aizawa raised a hand, cutting off the murmurs of confusion that began to spread. "We wanted to see how you would handle yourselves under pressure. To assess your ability to adapt, strategize, and persevere, even when you thought the odds were stacked against you."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "The truth is, the teachers left you all a window—an opportunity to win. Everyone had a chance. But this was never about passing or failing. The purpose of the finals was to push you to your limits so we could understand where you all stand as individuals and as a class."

He gave the students a pointed look. "Every one of you needs to grow stronger, which is why it's necessary for all of you to attend the training camp. What we did was a rational deception."

The mood in the room shifted dramatically. Relief turned to outrage as the realization set in. Students began to protest, their voices rising in discontent.

"A rational deception?!" Kaminari exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air. "You tricked us?!"

"That's so cruel, Mr. Aizawa!" Mina added, pouting. "I was this close to losing my mind!"

"Cruel?" Aizawa deadpanned, his gaze heavy-lidded. "Cruel would've been letting you fail and leaving you behind."

You leaned back in your chair, watching the chaos with mild amusement. Shaking your head, you let out a soft chuckle, drawing a few curious glances. "Really, you guys? This isn't exactly rocket science."

The class turned to look at you, puzzled. You flicked your wing dismissively, a sly grin playing on your lips. "Come on, even I could see through that setup. And let's be real, even a queen as greedy as I am wouldn't stoop to outright lying just to get ahead. Manipulating circumstances to teach a lesson? That's just... practical."

Kirishima scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. "I guess when you put it that way..."

"Still feels like we got played," Kaminari muttered, crossing his arms.

"That's because you did," you replied with a shrug. "But look at it this way: you learned something, didn't you?"

Aizawa's lips quirked upward ever so slightly, a rare hint of approval. "Exactly. If you're this upset about being tricked, then you've already learned a valuable lesson about how the world works. Heroes can't always rely on the truth. Villains certainly won't hand it to you."

The room fell quiet again, the weight of his words settling over the students like a heavy blanket. For all their frustration, none of them could argue with his logic.

As the class began to process everything, you leaned back further, arms crossed, and smirked. "Besides," you added, your voice light and teasing, "it's not like any of you are complaining about going to camp now."

A few groans of defeat rippled through the room, but it wasn't long before laughter followed. Despite their grumbling, the students knew one thing for certain—they had all passed in the way that mattered most.

The training camp awaited, and with it, the promise of becoming stronger together.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the sprawling expanse of the Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall. The towering glass facade sparkled, promising endless possibilities for the shoppers streaming through its doors. Class 1-A had gathered in front of the entrance, the energy among them buzzing with excitement.

"Alright, let's split up and meet back here in three hours," Iida declared, his arms slicing through the air with his characteristic enthusiasm. "Remember to stay vigilant and avoid causing unnecessary attention. We represent U.A., after all!"

The students nodded, agreeing to go their separate ways. Amid the excited chatter, Katsuki grumbled something about "not wasting time with extras" before stalking off, while Shoto gave a polite nod and quietly disappeared into the crowd.

That left you and Izuku standing together near the entrance. The two of you watched as the rest of the class scattered, their voices fading into the hum of mall activity.

You adjusted the hem of your long shirt, carefully tucking your wings underneath to keep them hidden. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but it was better than dealing with the inevitable stares and questions. Your hands found their way into your pockets, and you shrugged casually, glancing at Izuku. "So, what's the plan? Together or separate?"

Izuku, who had been nervously fidgeting with the straps of his backpack, froze at your question. His face flushed a deep crimson, and he stammered, "W-well, uh, I mean... if you don't mind... maybe we could... go together?"

You tilted your head, amused by his flustered state. "Sure, that works. Two heads are better than one, right?"

Izuku blinked, momentarily stunned by your easygoing response, before nodding rapidly. "Y-yeah, right! Two heads! That makes sense!"

You chuckled softly as the two of you made your way into the mall, weaving through the throngs of shoppers. The air was filled with the mingling scents of food court delicacies, the sharp tang of new merchandise, and the faint sweetness of perfume drifting from nearby stores.

As the two of you walked, you noticed how Izuku's gaze kept darting toward you, then quickly looking away whenever you caught him. "You okay there, Midoriya? You seem a little... distracted."

"N-no, I'm fine!" he squeaked, his voice a pitch higher than usual. "Just, uh, thinking about what I need to get! Yeah, that's it!"

You smirked, deciding to spare him further teasing—for now. "Alright then. First stop?"

"Um, well," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was thinking I should get some better workout clothes for the camp. My old ones are kind of... worn out."

"Sounds good to me," you said with a nod. "Let's find a sports store."

As the two of you meandered through the mall, the murmurs of recognition began to follow you like a shadow.

"Hey, isn't that Midoriya from the Sports Festival?"

"Wait, look! That's one of the students from U.A.!"

"Wow, they're shopping here like normal people?"

You sighed, pulling your hands from your pockets to cross them over your chest. "Guess there's no avoiding it, huh? Should've worn a hat or something."

Izuku chuckled nervously, scratching his cheek. "Yeah, I guess we're kind of hard to miss..."

"Speak for yourself," you teased, flicking your shirt with a grin. "I'm practically invisible like this."

Izuku laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You do blend in pretty well."

The two of you continued your shopping adventure, dodging the occasional fan and soaking in the bustling energy of the mall. Despite the occasional awkward moment of recognition, the day felt surprisingly normal—two classmates, navigating the chaos of shopping and the pressure of being young heroes in training.

And for just a moment, it felt like the weight of the world was miles away.

The bustling energy of the mall seemed to evaporate the moment that voice reached your ears. Low, gravelly, and unmistakable, it sent a shiver crawling up your spine.

"Well, well, if it isn't L/N and Midoriya. How nice to meet you here."

You froze, your heart pounding as you slowly turned to confirm what you already knew. Tomura Shigaraki stood a few paces away, the hood of his jacket pulled low, though tufts of pale blue hair peeked out defiantly. His bloodshot eyes scanned you both, and his chapped lips curved into a twisted semblance of a grin. Despite the casual posture he feigned, his presence felt suffocating, as though the air around him had thinned to nothing.

Izuku stiffened beside you, his green eyes wide and alarmed. "Shigaraki," he muttered, his voice low but tinged with panic.

Tomura's gaze flicked to him briefly before settling back on you, something sinister glinting in his eyes. "Relax," he croaked. "I'm just here for a chat." He gestured lazily toward a nearby bench.

Against every instinct screaming at you to run, you found yourself moving, your legs stiff as you walked toward the bench. Izuku, wide-eyed and trembling, was steered to sit as well, Shigaraki's hand hovering ominously close to his neck. Though his pinkie finger was deliberately lifted, the threat of disintegration was palpable, a blade hovering over a thread.

You sat down of your own accord, your body tense, muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. Your wings, hidden under your shirt, twitched uncomfortably against the fabric, a physical manifestation of your unease. "Why are you here, Tomura?" you asked, your voice sharp and cutting as you deliberately used his first name.

That caught him off guard. His posture stiffened for a fraction of a second, and his crimson eyes flickered with something—a mix of surprise and irritation. "Tomura, huh?" he muttered, almost to himself, before his grin returned, lazy and laced with malice. "I was just passing by, really. Then I heard a student from U.A. was here. And I just couldn't resist."

His hand moved, resting on your shoulder lightly, though you could feel the weight of its potential destruction. His pinkie remained lifted, yet the implied threat lingered like a noxious cloud. Simultaneously, his other hand hovered near Izuku's neck, and you could feel the tension rolling off your classmate in waves.

"But now that I'm here," Shigaraki continued, his voice taking on a sing-song quality that made your stomach twist, "I can't help but wonder a few things."

You narrowed your eyes at him, your tail pressing uncomfortably against the bench in your restraint. "And what, exactly, are you wondering?" you asked coldly, biting back the urge to lash out.

"Oh, little things," he drawled, tilting his head to the side. "Like how a U.A. prodigy—" his hand tapped lightly against your shoulder, his grin widening, "—finds herself so casual, so unguarded, in a place like this."

You clenched your fists. "This is neutral ground. You wouldn't risk doing anything here."

His eyes gleamed with mockery. "You're right, of course," he said lightly. "The mall's a bit too public for my tastes. But I wasn't talking about me. You've got a lot of eyes on you these days. Makes me wonder—how long until someone more dangerous notices?"

Izuku, trembling but determined, finally found his voice. "Why are you really here?" he asked, though his voice wavered. "What do you want?"

Shigaraki leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, Izuku, what I want is always the same. But for now? I just wanted to remind you both..." He trailed off, his smile widening into something too wide, too predatory.

He leaned back suddenly, standing to his full height, his hands falling away from both you and Izuku. "...that heroes don't always get the luxury of safety. Not even here."

Shigaraki lingered longer than you anticipated, his gaze sharper now, as though measuring you against some unseen standard. His red eyes gleamed with a peculiar intensity as he folded his arms, the faint smirk on his chapped lips twisting into something resembling curiosity.

"Y/N L/N," he murmured, rolling your name on his tongue as though savoring it. "I've been hearing things about you. Things that make me think... you're not like the rest of those brats at U.A."

You stiffened, your wings twitching beneath your shirt. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He leaned closer, the proximity setting your teeth on edge. "It means you're better than them," he said softly, his tone almost coaxing. "Stronger. Smarter. You don't belong in their shadow. You're a queen among sheep."

His words were honeyed poison, designed to burrow under your skin. You met his gaze squarely, your jaw tightening. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Tomura," you said coldly.

"Oh, it's not flattery," he replied, his grin widening. "It's the truth. You have potential, Y/N. Potential that the so-called heroes at U.A. will never let you realize. They'll hold you back, chain you to their outdated ideals."

He straightened, his hand gesturing grandly toward the milling crowd. "But me? The League of Villains? We could make you unstoppable. You'd finally be free—no rules, no restraints. You could be the ruler of your own destiny."

The temptation in his voice was palpable, a tantalizing offer wrapped in shadows. But you didn't waver. Your loyalty wasn't so easily swayed.

You stood slowly, the air around you shifting as your wings twitched beneath your shirt. "Listen to me carefully, Tomura," you said, your voice steady and resolute. "I'm not interested in your League. My loyalty is to my friends at U.A., and nothing you say will change that."

For the first time, Shigaraki looked genuinely surprised. His head tilted, and the twisted grin faltered. "You'd stay loyal to them? Even when they'll never truly understand what you're capable of?"

You nodded firmly. "Yes. Because they believe in me. And I believe in them."

He was silent for a moment, his fingers twitching at his sides. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled—a low, raspy sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Well," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur as he stepped closer, "I won't stop. Not until you see things my way."

Before you could react, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. His voice was a soft, almost teasing whisper. "You know, you look even prettier in this jumper. A shame you're wasting it here."

Your heart stuttered, not from flattery but from the sheer audacity of his words. Before you could respond, Shigaraki straightened, stepping back into the crowd. His crimson eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, a silent promise in his gaze.

And then he was gone, disappearing into the masses as though he had never been there.

You stood frozen, his words echoing in your mind. The faint scent of him—dust and decay—lingered in the air, a reminder of the encounter.

"Y/N!" Izuku's panicked voice pulled you from your thoughts. He was standing now, his green eyes filled with worry. "Are you okay? What did he say to you?"

You shook your head, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your chest. "It doesn't matter. Let's find the others and get out of here."

As the two of you hurried to regroup, you couldn't help but feel the weight of Shigaraki's promise lingering in the back of your mind. He wouldn't stop. And somehow, you knew this wouldn't be the last time he tried to sway you.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

The Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall, once bustling with energy, now felt eerily subdued. The faint hum of distant conversations and the occasional flash of police lights were the only reminders of the chaos that had just passed. Officers surrounded the area, their questions sharp, their notebooks filling with hastily scrawled notes.

You and Izuku sat side by side on a bench, the weight of what had happened pressing heavily on both of you. While Izuku relayed every detail of the encounter to the police—his voice measured but edged with unease—you remained quiet, speaking only when directly asked.

"Did Shigaraki say why he approached you?" one officer inquired, his eyes narrowing as he regarded you.

You met his gaze evenly, your expression unreadable. "He was just testing the waters," you said simply. "Trying to intimidate us."

"Did he make any threats? Mention anything about the League's plans?"

You shook your head. "Nothing specific. Just the usual villain talk."

The officer frowned, sensing there was more you weren't saying, but before he could press further, another officer called him away. As soon as he was gone, you exhaled, leaning back against the bench. Izuku's words filled the silence as he continued to recount the encounter in vivid detail, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap.

"I should've done more," he said, guilt evident in his tone as he finished his account. "I froze. I let him get too close to you."

You glanced at him, your voice firm. "You did exactly what you should've. We both got out of it alive. That's what matters."

Before Izuku could argue, a familiar car pulled up to the curb. Inko Midoriya stepped out, her face pale with worry. "Izuku!" she called, rushing over to her son.

"Mom," Izuku muttered, standing as she embraced him tightly. Her hands fussed over him, checking for injuries. He gave her a small smile, trying to reassure her, though his voice wavered. "I'm okay, really."

As she guided him toward the car, he glanced back at you. "Y/N, you're sure you're okay?"

You nodded, offering him a faint smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, Izuku. Get some rest."

Once the car pulled away, the silence returned, and you felt its weight settle over you like a heavy cloak.

"Y/N?"

You turned to see Ochako Uraraka standing nearby, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Her wide, worried eyes searched your face as she stepped closer. "Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine," you replied, your voice steady but distant. Then, seeing the doubt in her expression, you reached out and patted her head gently. "Really. Don't worry about me."

Before she could press further, the rest of your classmates arrived, their faces etched with concern. Mina was the first to rush over, her usual bubbly energy subdued. "What happened? Are you okay? Did Shigaraki hurt you?"

The questions came in rapid succession, and even Shoto Todoroki, usually composed and aloof, hovered nearby, his mismatched eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine," you repeated, standing to face them all. "It wasn't a fight. Just a lot of posturing on his end."

"Posturing?" Mina frowned, crossing her arms. "That doesn't sound like nothing, Y/N."

"It's handled," you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument. "The police have my statement, and I'm fine. Let's not make this bigger than it is."

Despite your reassurance, the worry in their eyes didn't fade. Fumikage Tokoyami nodded solemnly, his shadow quivering at his side. "If Shigaraki is targeting you directly, we must remain vigilant. This could escalate."

You nodded, appreciating his calm reasoning, though you still felt the weight of everyone's eyes on you. "Thanks, Tokoyami," you said quietly. "But for now, let's focus on the training camp. We'll need to be ready for anything."

Reluctantly, the others began to disperse, though Mina lingered a moment longer, giving you a searching look before joining the rest. Todoroki, the last to leave, gave you a small nod of understanding before turning away.

As the mall began to return to its usual rhythm, you stood alone for a moment, staring out at the bustling crowd. Shigaraki's words echoed in your mind, the weight of his gaze still lingering like a shadow.

You clenched your fists, your jaw tightening. Whatever game he was playing, you wouldn't let him win.