The train ride passed in a blur of Toru's enthusiasm. She talked constantly, her words tumbling over each other like puppies fighting for attention. She speculated about their homeroom teacher. She wondered aloud about their classmates. She described her morning routine in excruciating detail, including the thirty minutes she'd spent picking out which shade of invisible her hair looked best in.
Izuku played the part of the amused listener, offering occasional comments that set her off on new tangents. It was oddly comfortable. Toru's energy was infectious without being exhausting. She didn't demand constant engagement. She just wanted someone to share her excitement with.
The walk through U.A.'s campus was equally filled with her commentary. The buildings were massive, designed to accommodate students with Quirks that might require extra space. The grounds were immaculate. The statues of famous alumni stood guard at regular intervals, bronze heroes frozen in moments of triumph.
Toru stopped in front of a statue of All Might, her invisible form going still for the first time all morning.
"We're really here," she said quietly. "We're really doing this."
Izuku stood beside her, looking up at the bronze Number One Hero.
"Yeah." He allowed a rare moment of sincerity to enter his voice. "We are."
The moment stretched between them, peaceful and profound.
Then Toru grabbed his arm again. "OKAY BREAK'S OVER LET'S GO!"
And they were off again.
The collision happened at the intersection of three hallways.
Izuku rounded the corner, Toru still attached to his arm like a cheerful barnacle, and nearly walked directly into someone else.
Choppy purple hair. The U.A. blazer worn open. A tie hanging so loose it might as well have been a decorative scarf. Combat boots instead of the standard uniform shoes.
Kyoka Jiro looked like she'd gotten dressed in deliberate defiance of every rule U.A. had ever written.
She looked incredible.
Her eyes met Izuku's, and for a single nanosecond, something flickered across her face. Surprise. Relief. Maybe even happiness at seeing him.
Then her gaze slid sideways.
To Toru.
To the floating uniform clinging to curves that were suddenly very obvious in the bright hallway light.
To the black thigh-high socks.
To the invisible girl's hand wrapped possessively around Izuku's arm.
The flicker of warmth in Jiro's eyes died a violent death. Her expression went cold. Her earphone jacks rose behind her like cobras preparing to strike.
The temperature in the hallway dropped approximately twenty degrees.
"Morning, Compass." Izuku's smile didn't waver. "Fancy seeing you here."
Toru bounced slightly, completely oblivious to the killing intent radiating from the purple-haired girl in front of them. "Oh! Midoriya-kun, is this your friend? Hi! I'm Toru Hagakure! It's nice to meet you!"
She stuck out her invisible hand, offering a cheerful handshake.
Jiro ignored it completely.
Her eyes stayed locked on Izuku, narrowed and dangerous. Her voice came out quiet, sharp, and meant only for him.
"I see you're already 'accepting applications.'"
The words could have cut steel.
Oh, she's definitely jealous.
The realization sent a warm glow through Izuku's chest. After the concert two nights ago, he'd wondered if he'd imagined the connection between them. If the music and the moment had created something that wasn't really there.
Apparently not.
"Applications are always open," he replied smoothly. "But spots in the inner circle are limited. You'd know, since you already have one."
Jiro's eye twitched. Her jacks twitched harder.
Toru's head swiveled between them, her invisible face presumably displaying total confusion. "Um... did I miss something? Do you two know each other?"
"We met during the entrance exam," Izuku explained, not taking his eyes off Jiro. "She was my navigator. Hence the nickname."
"That's so cool! Like a team-up origin story!" Toru turned to Jiro, her enthusiasm undimmed by the arctic reception. "Midoriya-kun is amazing, right? Did you see his score? First place! Can you believe it? And he doesn't even have a Quirk!"
Jiro's expression shifted slightly.
"Yeah," she said. "He's... something."
Progress.
"We should get to class." Izuku gestured down the hallway. "Walk with us, Compass?"
Jiro looked like she wanted to refuse on principle. But they were all headed to the same place, and refusing would require an explanation she clearly didn't want to give.
"Whatever."
She fell into step beside them, positioning herself on Izuku's other side. Opposite Toru. Marking territory without saying a word.
The walk to Class 1-A was possibly the most tense journey Izuku had experienced since the time Hano made him sprint through a minefield of broken glass wearing nothing but shorts.
Toru tried valiantly to fill the silence with cheerful small talk. She asked about Jiro's Quirk (short answer, silence). She complimented Jiro's boots (grunt). She wondered aloud what their teacher would be like (aggressive silence).
Izuku enjoyed every second of it.
Two beautiful girls fighting over me on the first day of school. This is exactly how I imagined my hero career starting.
Jiro's jacks kept twitching toward him whenever Toru laughed at something he said.
Toru's grip on his arm tightened whenever Jiro walked too close.
The air crackled with unspoken rivalry.
Perfect.
The door to Class 1-A was massive. At least seven feet tall and made of heavy wood with a small window at eye level. The number "1-A" was emblazoned on a plaque beside it, gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
A statement piece designed to intimidate.
Izuku reached for the handle, his fingers wrapping around cold metal.
Jiro and Toru stood behind him. Two girls with vastly different energies, united only in their attention focused on the back of his head.
Here we go.
He pulled the door open.
Chaos greeted them.
The classroom was a snapshot of barely controlled disaster. Students filled about half the seats, their wildly different appearances creating a visual riot. A pink-skinned girl with horns was chatting animatedly with a red-haired boy who had teeth like a shark. A student whose head appeared to be a speech bubble was gesturing dramatically at someone off to the side. A tall boy with multiple arms sat quietly in the back, his presence somehow calming despite his intimidating appearance.
But the centerpiece of the chaos stood in the middle of the room.
A tall student with rectangular glasses and engine exhausts visible on his calves was chopping his arms through the air with robotic intensity. His movements were stiff. Formal. Like he was conducting an orchestra that only he could hear.
"TAKE YOUR FEET OFF THAT DESK! IT IS AN INSULT TO OUR UPPERCLASSMEN AND THE CRAFTSMEN WHO BUILT IT!"
His target sat with boots propped on the desk in question, a contemptuous sneer plastered across his face. Spiky ash-blond hair. Crimson eyes burning with barely contained fury. An aura of violent superiority radiating from every pore.
Katsuki Bakugo looked exactly the same as he had in middle school.
Loud. Angry. Absolutely convinced of his own supremacy.
His eyes swept toward the door as it opened, and for a single frozen moment, his gaze locked with Izuku's.
Recognition flashed across Bakugo's face.
Then rage.
Pure, undiluted, thermonuclear rage.
Izuku smiled pleasantly and gave a small wave.
Behind him, Toru made a small noise of excitement. "Wow, there are so many cool people here!"
Jiro's response was considerably less enthusiastic. "Great. It's a madhouse."