The door slid open with a soft shhk.

  A long leg stepped in first, followed by a tall girl striding confidently into the room. Her fiery orange ponytail swung behind her like a flag, and a playful grin tugged at her freckled face. Her posture was relaxed, almost casual, but every movement had intention, sharp, sure, and unshaken.

  Midoriya blinked. His brain stalled for a second before it clicked.

  It was her, the girl from earlier that morning. The one he’d bumped into near the gates. But... she was in his class? He had been convinced she was older, probably a second or third-year. No way someone that composed, that tall, was another first-year. Right?

  Apparently wrong.

  Murmurs spread like wildfire across the classroom. Every head turned, watching her as she stepped up to the front, stopping beside Aizawa. She crossed her arms with an easy confidence, scanning the room briefly with her pitch-black pupils before speaking.

  She let the silence hang for a beat, then raised a hand in a quick wave, her grin widening just slightly. “Hey everyone! My name is Robinn Reibach. I just transferred in, bit of a last-minute thing.” Her voice was light, easy, but carried that unmistakable weight of someone who wasn’t just happy to be here, she wanted to be here.

  “I’ll be training with you all from now on. I’m aiming high, so I hope you’re all ready to work hard.” She flashed a brighter smile and nodded once, as if that was all that needed to be said. No dramatic declarations. No backstory. Just intention, plain and powerful.

  There was a moment of silence after Robinn’s short but striking introduction, then the murmurs returned, louder now, rippling through the class with renewed curiosity.

  “She’s gotta be a recommendation student, right?” Kaminari whispered to Sero, eyes wide.

  “No way, she just transferred in!” Mina leaned forward, practically bouncing in her seat. “What’s her Quirk? Why now? Where’s she from?”

  Before anyone could speak up, Aizawa gave a pointed cough, the subtle, deadly kind. Everyone quieted instantly.

  “She’ll answer what she wants to when she wants to,” he said flatly, eyes already halfway closed in that half-awake glare. “This isn’t a press conference, and we’ve got things to cover.”

  Robinn raised her brows slightly at that but didn’t lose her grin. She gave the room one last casual scan before nodding once and walking to the empty desk, the one beside Uraraka’s, and sat down with zero hesitation, like she’d always belonged there.

  “As some of you may have guessed, Reibach’s transfer was unexpected. Special circumstances,” Aizawa added, not elaborating. “She’ll be joining you for the rest of your first year, and likely beyond. Treat her like any other classmate, which means don’t waste time trying to dig into things that aren’t your business.” There was a pause. Then he tapped the chalkboard with a bit of chalk, underlining something he’d already written in his messy, all-caps handwriting: HERO TACTICS & FIELD ANALYSIS.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “For today, we’re reviewing the training from yesterday’s battle trial. Evaluating strategy, adaptability, and use of Quirks in high-pressure situations. This isn’t a debate. Take notes.”

  And just like that, the tone snapped back to serious. Aizawa began breaking down the matches one by one, pausing only to drag out a tired commentary on specific missteps, mostly Bakugo’s recklessness and Todoroki’s excellent finish.

  Meanwhile, Robinn sat quietly, upright but relaxed. Focused. A few whispers came her way. Sero leaned back in his chair just a little and muttered, “So, where’d you transfer from?”

  Robinn replied without hesitation, voice low and polite. “Abroad. Sort of a personal training thing.” Then her eyes flicked back to the chalkboard like the conversation had already ended.

  Uraraka glanced over, eyes curious but kind. “If you ever need help getting used to the schedule, just ask, okay?” Robinn nodded, smiling softly. “Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  And she meant it.

  Her pen moved steadily as Aizawa droned on, analyzing team matchups and pointing out Midoriya and Uraraka’s coordination from their mock battle. Midoriya, seated across the room, occasionally caught himself glancing her way. It was still weird, seeing her here, in his class, like she’d always been part of it. She hadn’t said anything else to him. She hadn’t even looked at him again since earlier.

  But her words stuck with him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on.

  The rest of the morning flowed as predictably as any school day at U.A. could.

  Cementoss arrived for math. Equations filled the board. Numbers, graphs, formulas. Robinn kept up... sort of. Her notebook was neat, but her pen lingered longer than it should’ve on each line, and her brows occasionally creased despite her relaxed posture.

  “Dude, she’s zoning out,” Kaminari whispered across the aisle to Sero, barely audible.

  “She’s probably thinking about punching villains, not polynomials,” Sero whispered back.

  But Robinn didn’t react. If she heard, she ignored it. When called on by Cementoss, which happened once, maybe out of curiosity or habit, she hesitated a beat too long before answering, giving a textbook definition that was almost right. Cementoss didn’t press it.

  Science wasn’t much better. Ectoplasm was fast and sharp with his teaching, filling the board with diagrams and theory. Robinn’s note-taking slowed further, but she didn’t look frustrated, just focused. Like she was determined to brute-force her way through even if the subject didn’t click.

  Again, a few questions floated her way. “What’s your Quirk, by the way?” Mina asked at one point, not even pretending to whisper. Robinn gave her a friendly glance. “You’ll see eventually.” That was it. No teasing or flair, just cheerful, matter-of-fact vagueness. Enough to stir more whispers. She deflected them all the same way: politely, with a smile that didn’t invite follow-up.

  But the moment the bell rang and it was time to move out for P.E., Robinn’s energy shifted. She stood up a little faster. Her shoulders rolled back with anticipation. Down at the training field, Aizawa greeted them with his usual tired look, explaining the session: standard drills and conditioning, no Quirks.

  “Strength, speed, and stamina still matter,” he said. “Even the best Quirks are useless if your body gives out.” The class groaned collectively, but Robinn’s grin only widened.

  The drills were brutal. Laps, sprints, burpees, core routines, everything meant to push first-years to their limits. Sweat poured. Ojiro was panting. Even Iida, disciplined as ever, looked winded by the last sprint cycle.

  But Robinn? She looked like she was just getting started. Her pace never slowed, her breathing barely picked up. When the whistle blew to signal the end, she was still smiling, genuinely smiling, like she could’ve kept going another hour just for fun.

  Sero flopped onto the ground, wiping his forehead. “Okay... she’s scary.”

  “She still hasn’t used her Quirk,” Mina muttered nearby. “And she smiled during mountain climbers. That’s villain behavior.”

  Midoriya stayed quiet, watching from a short distance as he caught his breath. That same question tugged at him again. Who exactly is she?

  Robinn straightened up, dusting off her knees. Her ponytail clung to the back of her neck, sweat shining on her brow, but she didn’t look tired. Not even a little. If anything, she looked like she was finally awake.