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This is how I think Y/N is going to look like in UA uniform ofc you can change it❤️
It had been two weeks since your confrontation with Shoto, and the wound was still fresh. The Dark Forest, once your sanctuary, now felt like a place haunted by memories of what had been said. But you hadn't seen him since, and today, you were leaving the forest altogether.
The towering gates of U.A. High loomed in front of you, a stark contrast to the twisting, ancient trees you had grown up with. The sprawling campus bustled with life—students in crisp uniforms, teachers with incredible abilities, and the undeniable hum of excitement in the air. It was overwhelming, but you were here now, ready to prove that you belonged.
Clutching the strap of your bag, you walked through the gates and into the heart of U.A., your heart pounding in your chest. Class 1-A awaited you, the classroom where heroes were made. But also the classroom where Shoto was. The thought of seeing him again, after everything, tightened the knot in your stomach. You weren't sure if you were ready to face him.
Would he even look at you the same way?
You found your way to the 1-A building, the hallways filled with students chatting and laughing. The closer you got, the more self-conscious you felt, wondering if everyone would stare, if they would sense your magic, if they would know you were different. You took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the classroom.
The moment you stepped inside, the room fell silent.
Twenty pairs of eyes turned to you, scanning you curiously. The silence was heavy, but you forced yourself to step forward. The room was just like you'd seen in photos—modern, brightly lit, filled with desks arranged neatly in rows. But there was a different kind of energy here, one charged with the potential of future heroes.
"Ah, you must be the new student!" A voice rang out from the front. A tall man with long black hair and a tired expression—Aizawa, the homeroom teacher—stood at the head of the class. His gaze was sharp but unreadable. "Class, this is Y/N. She'll be joining us from today."
Your gaze flickered to the faces in the room. Some looked friendly, others indifferent, but your eyes landed on the one you had been dreading—Shoto.
He sat near the back, his dual-colored hair making him stand out. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the tension in his posture. His eyes met yours for just a second before he looked away, jaw tight. The sight of him made your chest ache, a sharp reminder of the words exchanged during your fight.
