The classroom was tense when Boa arrived.

  Most of Class 1-A was already there, clustered in small groups, talking in hushed voices. The excitement from sharing field training stories had been replaced by an undercurrent of anxiety.

  Boa scanned the room and found Katsuki immediately. He was at his desk, arms crossed, staring at the board with that intense focus that meant he was thinking hard about something. When he noticed her, his expression shifted—not quite a smile, but something close.

  She made her way to her seat, which was directly behind his. As she passed, his hand shot out and caught her wrist briefly.

  "You good?" he asked quietly.

  "I'm fine. You?"

  "Yeah." He released her wrist. "We'll talk after this briefing."

  Boa nodded and took her seat just as Aizawa entered the classroom, followed unexpectedly by Principal Nezu and All Might—though All Might was in his deflated form, something that made several students gasp.

  "Settle down," Aizawa said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "We don't have time for shock and speculation. Yes, this is All Might's true form. No, we're not discussing the details right now. We have bigger problems."

  All Might—thin, gaunt, with hollow eyes—stood beside the desk with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry for the deception, young ones. But as Aizawa said, we have more pressing matters."

  Principal Nezu hopped onto the desk, his paws folded neatly. "As I'm sure you're all aware, there has been increased League of Villains activity over the past week. Eight confirmed deaths, multiple threatening messages, and intelligence suggesting they're planning something significant."

  The room went completely silent.

  "We're telling you this," Aizawa continued, "because you were the class that encountered them at the USJ. You've already been targeted once. And given the League's apparent fixation on All Might, and All Might's connection to this class..." He paused. "You need to be prepared for the possibility of another attack."

  "When?" Todoroki asked, his voice cold and controlled.

  "We don't know," Nezu admitted. "Our intelligence is limited. But all staff are on high alert, and we're implementing additional security measures throughout the campus."

  "What kind of measures?" Yaoyorozu asked.

  "Increased patrols, enhanced surveillance, mandatory check-ins for all students, and restricted access to certain areas of campus." Nezu's usually cheerful demeanor was serious. "We're also requiring that all students remain on campus unless explicitly authorized otherwise. No exceptions."

  Murmurs of concern rippled through the class.

  "This is bullshit," Katsuki said loudly. "We beat them once. If they want round two, bring it on."

  "Young Bakugo," All Might said, his thin voice carrying surprising authority, "your confidence is admirable, but misplaced. The League has grown stronger and bolder. The Nomu you encountered at the USJ was merely a prototype. Intelligence suggests they may have more—and worse."

  That sobering statement killed Katsuki's bravado. He scowled but said nothing.

  "We're not trying to scare you," Aizawa said. "We're trying to prepare you. Stay alert. Stay together. Don't go anywhere alone. And if you see anything suspicious, report it immediately. Understood?"

  "Yes, sensei," the class chorused.

  "Good. Now, you all have the rest of the day to settle back in and catch up on schoolwork. Classes resume normally tomorrow." Aizawa's expression softened slightly. "And for what it's worth—you all did well during your field training. Your supervisors sent positive reports. Keep that momentum going."

  The faculty left, and the classroom immediately erupted into anxious chatter.

  "This is scary," Ashido said, her usual cheerfulness dimmed. "They're planning something big."

  "We just have to be ready," Kirishima said, though he looked worried too. "Right, Bakugo?"

  Katsuki was staring at where All Might had stood, his expression complicated. "Yeah. Ready."

  Boa noticed his hands were clenched into fists. She reached forward and tapped his shoulder. When he turned, she met his eyes with a calm, steady gaze.

  We're okay. We'll handle this.

  He seemed to understand the unspoken message. Some of the tension left his shoulders.

  After the briefing, the class dispersed to their dorms. Boa was unpacking her things when there was a knock on her door.

  "It's open."

  Katsuki entered, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk."

  "About All Might's true form?"

  "About everything." He sat on her desk chair while she settled on her bed. "That deflated form—I've suspected something was wrong for weeks, but seeing it confirmed..."

  "He's injured," Boa said. "Severely. That's why he has a time limit on his powered form."

  "Yeah. And the League knows. That's what those messages meant—'All Might is a fraud.' They know he's vulnerable."

  "Which means they'll target that vulnerability." Boa's mind was already working through scenarios. "If they can expose his weakness publicly, or worse, kill him while he's in his weakened state..."

  "The Symbol of Peace collapses, and villain activity skyrockets." Katsuki ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "We need to get stronger. Fast."

  "We will. But we also need to be smart." Boa leaned forward. "The League isn't just powerful—they're strategic. The USJ attack was planned specifically to kill All Might. They knew his schedule, knew he'd be there, prepared a counter to him specifically."

  "So they have inside information."

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  "Or very good intelligence gathering." Boa's expression darkened. "Either way, they're dangerous in ways that go beyond just combat power."

  They sat in silence for a moment, processing the weight of everything.

  "So what did Uwabami teach you?" Katsuki asked, deliberately changing the subject. "Besides the petrification stuff."

  Boa explained her week—the presence training, the image work, the combat refinements, and finally, the development of her complete petrification system: Slave Arrow in its refined form, Mezameyo for reversal, and the various applications of her Gorgon Strike.

  Katsuki listened intently, his eyes sharp. "Show me."

  "What?"

  "The refined Slave Arrow. I want to see it."

  "Katsuki, I can't just petrify things in my dorm room—"

  "Not here. Training Ground Beta. Come on." He stood and headed for the door. "We've got a few hours before curfew. Let's train."

  Despite everything—the ominous briefing, the League's threats, the uncertainty of what was coming—Boa found herself smiling.

  Some things never changed.

  Training Ground Beta was empty when they arrived, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the practice field.

  "Alright," Katsuki said, taking a position about thirty meters away. "Show me the refined Slave Arrow. Full power."

  "Are you sure? The petrification—"

  "I trust you to reverse it. Now stop stalling and hit me with your best shot."

  Boa took a breath, centered herself, and raised her hand. She kissed her fingertip, feeling her Quirk concentrate there, then formed the bow motion with her other hand.

  The large heart materialized between her finger and her drawing hand, glowing brilliant pink in the fading sunlight.

  "Slave Arrow."

  She released the imaginary bowstring.

  Hundreds of heart-shaped arrows burst forth in a devastating barrage, filling the air like a swarm of luminescent locusts. They flew toward Katsuki with deadly accuracy.

  To his credit, he didn't flinch. He tried to dodge, using small explosions to propel himself sideways, but there were too many arrows, coming from too many angles.

  Three of them struck him—chest, shoulder, thigh.

  The petrification was instant. Gray stone spread from each impact point, and within two seconds, Katsuki was completely petrified mid-dodge, frozen in a dynamic pose with his hands raised for an explosion that never came.

  Boa approached the stone statue that was Katsuki and examined her work. The petrification was complete but temporary—she'd deliberately kept it that way.

  "Mezameyo," she said softly, bringing her hand to her lips and kissing the air.

  Tiny hearts floated from her lips, drifting toward the petrified Katsuki like pink snowflakes. When they touched the stone, it began to crack and recede.

  Within ten seconds, he was restored, stumbling slightly as mobility returned.

  "Holy shit," he breathed, catching his balance. "That was... that was intense. I couldn't move, couldn't think. It was like being frozen in time."

  "And that was the temporary version," Boa said. "The permanent version is deeper. Harder to reverse."

  "How much harder?"

  "It takes about a minute with Mezameyo, and significantly more focus. And theoretically, I could make it so permanent that even I couldn't reverse it, though I haven't tested that."

  Katsuki was looking at her with something like awe. "You've basically created the perfect restraint technique. No prison needed—just turn them to stone permanently."

  "It's not that simple. There are ethical considerations—"

  "I know, I know. Last resort only." He rolled his shoulders, testing his mobility. "But damn, Boa. You're scary when you want to be."

  "Is that a compliment?"

  "The highest one I give." He grinned. "Alright, my turn. I want to show you what Best Jeanist taught me."

  For the next hour, they trained together. Katsuki demonstrated new techniques he'd learned—more controlled explosions, better aerial mobility, improved tactical thinking. He'd grown too, in his own way.

  And they practiced combinations, just like they had before the Sports Festival. Katsuki would create openings with his explosions while Boa struck with petrifying attacks. She would use Mezameyo to restore training dummies while he provided covering fire.

  They moved together with an ease that came from weeks of partnership, from understanding each other's fighting styles intimately.

  "You've gotten faster with the Slave Arrow formation," Katsuki observed after she fired another barrage. "That bow motion really does make it more efficient."

  "And your explosions are more controlled. You're wasting less energy on unnecessary power."

  "Best Jeanist drilled that into me. 'Precision over power,' he kept saying. It was annoying, but..." Katsuki shrugged. "He wasn't wrong."

  They took a water break, sitting on the ground as the sun began to set.

  "Things are going to get worse, aren't they?" Boa asked quietly.

  "Yeah. The League isn't going away. And whatever they're planning..." Katsuki looked at the darkening sky. "It's going to be big."

  "We'll be ready."

  "We better be." He turned to look at her, his red eyes intense in the fading light. "Because I'm not losing anyone. Not you, not the class, not All Might. We're going to be the generation that ends this villain shit for good."

  It was such a Katsuki thing to say—absolute confidence in the face of overwhelming odds. But Boa found herself believing him.

  "Together," she said.

  "Together," he agreed.

  His hand found hers in the grass between them. They sat there as the sun set, hands linked, neither of them speaking.

  They didn't need to. The understanding between them had gone beyond words.

  That night, the class gathered in the common room. Despite the ominous briefing, or perhaps because of it, everyone seemed to need the comfort of being together.

  Kirishima was telling exaggerated stories about his field training. Kaminari was showing off new control techniques he'd learned. Ashido was demonstrating improved acid applications.

  Boa sat with Katsuki on one of the couches, listening to her classmates' stories. For the first time since arriving at UA, she felt truly part of the group rather than adjacent to it.

  "Hancock!" Ashido called out. "Tell us about your training! Did you really work with a model hero?"

  All eyes turned to Boa. A few months ago, this attention would have made her retreat. But now...

  "I trained with Uwabami, yes," she said clearly. "She taught me about presence and psychological warfare. How to use image and perception as weapons alongside physical combat."

  "That's so cool!" Ashido bounced excitedly. "Did you get to do any modeling?"

  "Some. But mostly combat training. I developed several new techniques."

  "Like what?" Kirishima asked.

  Boa hesitated. Should she reveal her full capabilities to the class?

  She felt Katsuki's hand brush against her arm briefly. Your choice. But you don't have to hide anymore.

  She took a breath. "I refined my petrification abilities. I can now turn targets to stone through direct strikes, fire hundreds of petrifying arrows simultaneously from range, and reverse the petrification at will through a technique called Mezameyo."

  The class stared at her.

  "That's... that's really powerful," Midoriya said, his analytical mind clearly working. "The tactical applications alone..."

  "She's basically unstoppable if you let her get into position," Katsuki added with a smirk. "I know. I've sparred with her."

  "You two train together a lot, huh?" Sero said with a knowing grin.

  "Someone has to keep her sharp," Katsuki said defensively.

  "Uh-huh. Sure. That's definitely the only reason." Ashido's eyes were twinkling with mischief.

  Boa felt her face warming but kept her composure. "Bakugo is an effective training partner. That's all."

  The class erupted into knowing laughter and teasing, but it wasn't mean-spirited. It was the kind of ribbing that came from friendship, from acceptance.

  Boa found herself almost smiling.

  Later, as people began dispersing to their rooms, Todoroki approached her.

  "Hancock. Can I speak with you briefly?"

  They stepped out onto the dorm balcony, away from the others.

  "I wanted to thank you," Todoroki said without preamble.

  "For what?"

  "At the Sports Festival. You told me I was holding back. You were right." He looked at his left hand—his fire side. "I'm still working through my issues with my father, but... I'm trying to use my power fully now. To accept it as mine."

  "I'm glad."

  "I also wanted to say—watching you and Bakugo fight, seeing how well you worked together, how you pushed each other..." Todoroki's expression was contemplative. "It made me realize that strength doesn't have to mean isolation. You can be powerful and still have connections."

  Boa looked at this boy who was so similar to her in many ways—both of them carrying trauma, both of them learning to open up despite years of self-imposed walls.

  "We're all learning that, I think," she said. "The entire class. That's what UA is teaching us."

  "Yeah." Todoroki almost smiled. "Good night, Hancock."

  "Good night, Todoroki."

  She stood on the balcony for a while after he left, looking out at the UA campus. Somewhere out there, the League of Villains was planning their next move. Somewhere, threats were gathering.

  But here, in this moment, she had classmates she trusted. A partner she—

  She stopped that thought. Whatever Katsuki was to her, it was too new, too undefined to examine closely.

  But she knew one thing: she wasn't alone anymore.

  And when the League came, they'd find Class 1-A ready.