The UA school grounds are bustling with energy as you and Izuku step onto the campus, just in time for the entrance exam to begin. The sheer size of the school, the towering buildings and the vast fields, remind you that this is no ordinary place. It feels almost surreal, like you're standing at the threshold of something monumental. This is the start of Izuku's dream, and you're there to see it through—standing by his side, just as you promised.

As you both approach the entrance, Izuku suddenly stumbles, his foot catching on something unseen. His eyes widen in panic as he begins to fall forward, and you instinctively reach out, grabbing his arm to steady him.

But just as you do, something odd happens. Izuku doesn't crash to the ground as you expected. Instead, he... floats. Your brow furrows in confusion, and you look up to find that the air around him is shimmering.

Before you can react, a bubbly voice rings out from behind you, catching both you and Izuku off guard.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't ask before using my Quirk, but it wouldn't have been nice letting you smash your face on the pavement, now would it?" The voice is cheerful, lighthearted, almost as if the owner didn't mind breaking the rules just to help someone out.

You blink, processing the situation, and glance over your shoulder. Standing there is a girl—short, with a slender yet curvy frame. Her auburn hair is styled in a cute bob, the two long strands framing her face like a soft halo. Her fair skin is complemented by the warm, constant pink blush on her cheeks, making her look perpetually endearing. Her large brown eyes—framed with thick lashes—meet yours, and her expression is one of genuine friendliness.

For a moment, you just stare, a little taken aback by her sudden appearance, but also by her natural charm. She's cute, undeniably so, and it takes you by surprise how easily she exudes warmth, even in a tense situation like this.

"Thank you for saving him," you say, your tone light and appreciative. "I would have helped, but your Quirk was quicker."

The girl turns her attention to you now, her brown eyes widening slightly as she takes in your appearance. She flushes, and for a brief moment, you can almost feel her gaze linger, stunned by your beauty. You can't help but grin at her, her bashfulness only adding to her charm.

"Well, it's nothing, really," she says, her voice a little softer now, though still bubbly and kind. "My name is Ochaco Uraraka! Nice to meet you." She gives you a warm, friendly smile, her cheeks still pink, though whether it's from the effort of using her Quirk or the effect you have on her, you're not sure.

You can't help but smile back at her, sensing no ill intentions, only a sense of honesty and kindness that feels oddly refreshing. "I'm Y/N," you reply, deciding against mentioning your true title. No need to make things more complicated when you're still adjusting to this world. Besides, the whole "Queen of the Predacons" thing might raise more questions than answers. "And this is Izuku Midoriya, a good friend of mine," you add, looking over at Izuku, who has now regained his balance, though he's still a little dazed by the floating experience.

Izuku, who's been quiet up until now, blushes deeply when he hears you call him a "good friend." "Ah, uh... nice to meet you, Ochaco!" he stammers, his voice shaky as he pushes his glasses up his nose. "Thank you for, uh, saving me."

Ochaco's smile only grows wider, and her eyes sparkle with the excitement of meeting two new people. "No problem at all! I couldn't let you fall on your face, could I?" She giggles, and the sound is sweet, almost contagious. You find yourself liking her more by the second.

"Well," you say, watching the interaction unfold, "this is certainly a good start to the day, don't you think?"

Izuku nods quickly, his nerves slightly alleviated by the lightheartedness Ochaco has brought to the moment. "Yeah! Thanks again, Ochaco." He's smiling now, a little less tense than before, though still full of anticipation for what lies ahead.

Ochaco's energy is infectious, and you can't help but feel a bit lighter as you stand there, the three of you exchanging small smiles and introductions. Despite how intimidating the entrance exam might seem, you already know one thing for sure: Izuku has made a friend, and this day—whatever happens—is bound to be unforgettable.

-

Inside the UA auditorium, the energy is palpable as the students take their seats. The room is full of nervous excitement, with many exchanging whispers and glances, but you remain silent, watching everything carefully. You take in the sight of the tall, slim man with long blond hair, who stands in front of the group speaking about the Entrance Exam. His hair is spiked up in a messy yet controlled way, and his small brown mustache gives him a distinct, almost quirky appearance. His tone is sharp but professional as he explains the rules, emphasizing that the practical test will be the first challenge, followed by the written test.

"The goal is simple," the man says, his voice cutting through the murmurs in the room. "During the practical test, you'll be fighting against robots designed to simulate villains. Your task is to neutralize as many as possible in a given time to score high. But don't be fooled—the robots are tough. And we'll be watching how you fight. So don't just rely on brute strength."

As the man continues explaining, you can hear murmurs from the crowd around you. Some students are already discussing strategies, while others are fidgeting nervously, trying to gauge the situation. You stay focused, your sharp eyes scanning the man's every movement, absorbing the details you know will be crucial. Your senses feel heightened, as though your very being is attuned to every little shift in the atmosphere. Despite the room full of aspiring heroes, it's clear you're in a different league, your every instinct honed in a world that most here wouldn't even begin to understand.

However, it's not just the teacher you're focused on. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a flash of movement—a spiky-haired blonde with a scowl that could pierce steel. His red eyes flicker to you again and again, but there's something about the way he looks at you that rubs you the wrong way. It's not just a passing glance—it's the kind of gaze someone gives when they've decided they don't like you before even giving you a chance.

You sense Izuku shifting nervously beside you, as if unsure of the interaction between you and the boy. Izuku's always so kind, but even he seems to notice the tension between you and the red-eyed boy. You can practically feel the annoyance radiating from him.

Your lips curl into a small, apathetic smirk, and without a word, you lean toward Izuku, letting your scent wash over him. It's deliberate, you know it makes him tense and blush, but you don't mind. You catch Bakugo's eye again, and this time, he's glaring at you, his red eyes practically burning with irritation.

"Oi, stop staring, red eyes," you murmur just loud enough for him to hear, your voice cold and direct. You let the words hang in the air for a moment, making sure he understands the full weight of your challenge. "I can snap your neck if you'd like."

The words land with a punch. Bakugo freezes, his expression flickering with surprise. His face turns a shade of crimson, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a retort, but none comes. The threat isn't a joke—there's no hesitation in your tone, and the coldness in your voice leaves no room for ambiguity.

His glare falters, and for a moment, he seems taken aback, before quickly looking away, his anger simmering beneath the surface. But it's clear now—he knows you're not someone to mess with. You return to your neutral stance, eyes forward, as if nothing had happened, but the tension lingers.

Izuku, still flustered from the exchange, glances at you nervously but also with a hint of awe. "Y/N, you... you didn't have to say that..." he mutters quietly.

You simply shrug, a faint smirk on your lips. "Sometimes, people need to be reminded of their place."

In the distance, you can hear the teacher continuing with the instructions for the practical exam, but your attention is momentarily elsewhere. The room now seems quieter around you, though the air crackles with the unspoken challenge between you and Bakugo. It's clear this exam won't just be about fighting robots—there are plenty of personal battles to be fought along the way, too.

-

The sound of the whistle blares, signaling the start of the Entrance Exam, and the students immediately begin to line up, ready for their respective challenges. Your calm demeanor stands in sharp contrast to the growing buzz of nervous energy around you. As you stand tall, your eyes scanning the arena, your sharp senses taking in every detail, you notice Present Mic making his way toward you.

The blonde-haired teacher is a beacon of energy and charisma, but as he approaches, he seems to momentarily falter, noticing you standing apart from the others. His enthusiasm wanes for just a fraction of a second as he looks you over, confusion flickering across his face.

"Hey there, lady," he calls out with a friendly grin, clearly attempting to keep things casual. "Can't remember seeing you in the register of students. What's your name?"

You turn your gaze to him and respond coolly, "Y/N."

Present Mic blinks, his face flushing slightly as his smile falters for a second. You notice his reaction but don't comment on it, your expression impassive as always. However, the subtle shift in his demeanor is not lost on you. It happens a lot—people react strangely to your presence, and you're not sure why. You don't do anything particularly special, yet they seem unnerved. It's almost as if your very existence is a puzzle they can't quite figure out.

He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I-I see. Umm, are you probably the woman that All Might talked about? The one who says she's a queen of the Predacons or something?"

You nod in acknowledgment. "Yes, that's me."

Present Mic's eyes widen for a moment, his smile stretching across his face. "Well then, come with me!" He offers his hand to you eagerly, and you glance at it for a beat before taking it. Your cool skin contrasts sharply with his, and he shivers slightly as your fingers wrap around his. It's a strange sensation for him, but you don't let it faze you. This is just the way you are.

He tugs you along with him toward the teachers' lounge. As you walk through the hallways, your eyes remain sharp, but your mind stays focused on the task at hand. You might be in a world that's unfamiliar to you, but it's still one you intend to conquer, or at the very least, learn how to navigate.

When you reach the teachers' lounge, Present Mic opens the door, revealing a few faculty members inside. A woman with raven-black hair, dressed in a tight bodysuit and sharp red glasses, sits at a desk, her fingers playfully pointing in your direction. Her gaze locks onto you, her smile lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Mic," she says with a teasing tone, her eyes sweeping over you, "what—or who—is that?" she adds with a flirty finger gesture in your direction.

Before Present Mic can respond, another man in the room, with dark circles under his eyes and a tired expression, glares at his colleague disapprovingly. "Mic, I thought I told you not to take girls into this classroom. It won't look good for us in the media or anywhere else."

Present Mic blinks rapidly, looking flustered at the sudden attention. "Oh no, no, it's not like that!" he stammers, raising his hands defensively. "I just found her standing outside the faux city where the participants are. She isn't in our register, so I thought she was a passerby or something."

You stand there, unmoving, your eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you. You're no stranger to people underestimating you based on your appearance, but these teachers seem to be more confused than anything. You don't have any intention of explaining yourself to them, at least not right now. Instead, you cross your arms and wait for the next move.

The woman with the red glasses tilts her head slightly, studying you with a curious look, but her flirtatious demeanor softens into something more respectful, perhaps out of instinct. "Well, it's not every day we get someone as... interesting as you," she says, her voice smooth but laced with something more, something sharp.

The man with dark circles glances at the others, his disapproval evident but silent. He doesn't seem thrilled about you being here, but he doesn't say anything more. The tension between them is subtle, but it's there.

"Anyway," Present Mic says, trying to steer the conversation back on track, "I'm just going to get her registered so she can take the exam. Is that alright?"

The woman with the red glasses raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by you but also somewhat puzzled. "Fine, but it better be just as you say, Mic. Just... don't make this a habit," she warns, her gaze flicking briefly to you.

You offer no response, still standing silently, allowing the conversation to unfold around you. You're here for a purpose, and you won't let distractions deter you. As they continue their discussion, you sense that there's more to these teachers than meets the eye, but for now, you're more focused on the exam ahead. You'll deal with whatever comes your way, just like you always do.