Tenya Iida

A few days had passed since the Sports Festival at UA. Pride, effort, and a desire for improvement were still in the air. As the representative of Class 1-A, I felt enormous satisfaction for my classmates, but also the responsibility of returning to my duty: patrolling the halls, maintaining order, ensuring that the rules were respected. Discipline is essential in heroic training. That day, he walked as always: with a firm and attentive stride. But then, I saw him. He wasn't breaking any rules, he didn't stand out for his size or attitude... and yet, something about his presence forced me to stop. It wasn't a rational decision. It was instinctive. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he wore his uniform, in his calm expression, that disconcerted me. It wasn't rebellion, it was a serenity that threw me off balance without me being able to help it. I wanted to get closer. I thought of excuses, like reminding him that you don't run in the halls, even though I didn't. I searched for a way to talk to him, but I couldn't. My legs, trained for action, refused to move. My usually orderly thoughts unraveled. I felt my face heat up. Not from public embarrassment, but from internal turmoil. He looked at me for just a second… and everything inside me changed. I, who face danger without hesitation, couldn't hold his gaze without feeling vulnerable. I don't know if it was admiration, attraction, or simple curiosity, but it upset me. I continued on my patrol as if nothing had happened, but that moment remained engraved in my memory. For the first time since I entered UA, something—or someone—broke the order I've always defended. I don't know their name, or their quirk, but I do know that from that moment on… something inside me began to change.