The train to UA is packed with students in various school uniforms, but the distinctive gray blazers of UA stand out. Most are older students—second and third years who look perfectly at ease. A few are obviously first-years like me, identifiable by their nervous glances and slightly too-stiff postures.
I find an empty seat and pull out my phone to text Nejire.
On the train. Meet you at the station in 15?
Her reply is immediate and enthusiastic:
ALREADY HERE!!! So excited I couldn't sleep! Came early to walk around the neighborhood! The bakery near the station has THE BEST melon bread!!! Did you eat breakfast? I've had THREE!
I smile, picturing her bouncing around the station on a sugar high from multiple pastries. Her excitement is contagious, even through text. By the time the train pulls into the station near UA, I'm feeling more anticipation than dread.
Nejire is exactly where she said she'd be, in front of the bakery, her UA uniform perfectly pressed and her hair somehow even bouncier than usual. When she spots me, she waves so enthusiastically that several passersby turn to look.
"Shinra! FINALLY! Isn't this AMAZING?" She spins in a circle, her skirt twirling. "We're really UA students!"
"We haven't even set foot on campus yet," I point out, but I'm smiling despite myself.
"Details, details." She loops her arm through mine, tugging me forward. "Come on! I want to see EVERYTHING!"
As we walk toward campus, Nejire chatters non-stop about all the things she's looking forward to, the facilities, the teachers, the training, the cafeteria food that's supposedly prepared by the pro hero Lunch Rush.
Then, as we turn a corner, UA Academy comes into view.
We join the stream of students heading through the main gates, showing our ID cards to the security system.
The main building is just as impressive inside as it is from the outside. High ceilings, state-of-the-art facilities, and screens displaying information for new students. We follow the directions to the first-year section, climbing to the first-year floor where Classes 1-A through 1-H are located.
"There it is!" Nejire points excitedly to a massive door with "1-A" displayed prominently. "Our classroom!"
The door is intimidatingly huge, built to accommodate students with size-altering quirks, I guess.
"What are you waiting for?" Nejire asks, practically vibrating with excitement.
I take a deep breath and slide the door open.
Inside, about half the seats are already filled with students, our classmates for the next three years. Some are chatting in small groups, others sitting quietly, a few looking just as nervous as I feel. All heads turn to us as we enter.
"Hello, everyone!" Nejire announces brightly, with zero hesitation. "I'm Nejire Hado! This is Shinra Torino! We're super excited to be here!"
A few students smile, some wave, others just stare. I give a slightly awkward nod, already exhausted by the social interaction and we've barely started.
"Come on," Nejire whispers, tugging me forward. "Let's introduce ourselves properly!"
For the next fifteen minutes, Nejire drags me around the classroom, introducing us to everyone present. There's Kishimoto with his crystallization quirk, Tanaka who can manipulate air pressure, Yoshida whose fingers can extend like whips, and several others whose names and quirks blur together in my nervous brain.
In the back corner, separate from the others, sits a boy with dark purple hair who seems to be trying his best to blend into the wall. His hunched posture and averted eyes scream "please don't notice me."
"Hey, it's Tamaki!" Nejire exclaims, immediately changing course to head straight for him. "From the entrance exam, remember?"
I nod, following behind her. We'd briefly met Tamaki Amajiki during the entrance exam—he was the painfully shy guy who'd barely managed to introduce himself before his more exuberant friend, Mirio, had dominated the conversation.
"Tamaki!" Nejire greets cheerfully. "We made it! All three of us in the same class! Isn't that great?"
Tamaki looks up reluctantly, recognition flickering in his eyes. "Oh... Hado-san. Torino-san." His voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear him. "Hello."
"You can just call me Nejire!" she insists brightly. "We're classmates now! No need to be so formal!"
Tamaki looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, but he manages a small nod. "Okay... Nejire."
"Where's your friend?" I ask, looking around. "Mirio, right? Did he get into UA too?"
"Yes," Tamaki confirms, his voice gaining a hint of animation when mentioning his friend. "He's in Class 1-B. His quirk... he doesn't have great control yet. But he's working hard."
"That's awesome that you both made it," Nejire says. "I was so nervous when we took the exam! What did you think of the robots? They were so much bigger than I expected! Did you have trouble with them? What does your quirk do again? I remember seeing you transform your hands into something during the exam, but I was too far away to see clearly."
With each question, Tamaki seems to shrink further into himself. I recognize the bombardment technique, it's classic Nejire, but I also remember from the manga that Tamaki Amajiki becomes one of the "Big Three" at UA. Hard to imagine this shrinking violet as one of the school's top students, but I guess a lot can change in three years.
"Maybe we should give him a break from the interrogation," I suggest gently, trying to rescue the poor guy from Nejire's enthusiasm.
She blinks, then seems to notice Tamaki's discomfort. "Oh! Sorry! I get excited about quirks. I didn't mean to overwhelm you!"
Tamaki gives me a grateful glance. "It's... okay. I'm just not good with... people."
"That's totally fine!" Nejire assures him. "We'll be classmates for three years, so there's plenty of time to talk later!"
As we move away to find our assigned seats, I can't help but steal another glance at Tamaki. Future top hero. One of UA's finest. It's strange knowing what these people are capable of becoming when they're still just awkward teenagers.
The classroom gradually fills as more students arrive. I count twenty in total, a full class. Looking around, I try to commit names and faces to memory.
Our assigned seats are determined by student numbers, which puts me near the back and Nejire closer to the front. She shoots me a disappointed look but quickly starts chatting with her new neighbors.
As I settle into my seat, the door slides open again, and the room immediately falls silent.
A disheveled man with long black hair, bloodshot eyes, and what appears to be a living scarf wrapped around his neck slouches into the room. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, or maybe weeks.
Aizawa. Eraserhead. Our homeroom teacher.
"It took you all eight seconds to quiet down," he says, his voice flat and unimpressed. "That's not going to work. Time is precious. "
He surveys the room, his tired eyes sweeping over each of us in turn. When his gaze reaches me, I feel a momentary chill, like he's looking straight through me. Then he moves on, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
"I'm Shota Aizawa. Your homeroom teacher." He reaches into his sleeping bag and pulls out a stack of papers. "Put these on and meet me at Training Ground Beta in fifteen minutes. Don't be late."
With that, he drops the stack on the front desk, what appear to be gym uniforms, and shuffles back out the door, leaving twenty confused first-years staring after him.
"That's it?" someone whispers. "No introduction? No welcome speech?"
For a moment, no one moves. Then Nejire jumps to her feet.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" she exclaims, hurrying to the front to grab a uniform. "We've got fourteen minutes and thirty seconds! Let's go!"
Her enthusiasm breaks the spell, and everyone scrambles to follow her lead. As I grab my uniform and head for the changing rooms, I can't help but smile.