Boa Hancock stared at the acceptance letter with an expression that might have been satisfaction. Class 1-A. She'd scored high enough—both in villain points and, apparently, in "rescue points" she hadn't even known were being counted.

  The first day at UA, she arrived early. The classroom was empty except for one other student—a boy with heterochromatic eyes and hair split between white and red. He glanced at her, nodded once, and returned to looking out the window.

  Hancock approved. He understood the value of silence.

  Students trickled in. The tall boy with glasses—Iida, she'd learned from the letter. The round-faced girl who'd saved that green-haired boy. The green-haired boy himself, looking absolutely terrified.

  And then—

  "GET YOUR FEET OFF THAT DESK RIGHT NOW! IT'S DISRESPECTFUL TO THE UPPERCLASSMEN WHO SAT THERE BEFORE YOU!"

  "Like I care! What middle school did you come from, you extra?"

  Hancock's eyes tracked to the source of the commotion. The spiky-haired blonde from the entrance exam, feet propped arrogantly on his desk, glaring at Iida with open hostility.

  Bakugo Katsuki, she recalled from the brief introductions happening around her. Loud. Aggressive. Powerful explosion Quirk.

  Everything she typically avoided.

  He caught her looking and their eyes met for a brief second. His glare intensified. "What are you staring at?"

  Hancock's expression didn't change. She simply looked away, dismissing him as if he were beneath her notice—which, in her mind, he was.

  "WHAT—"

  "If you're here to make friends, you can leave now."

  Everyone froze as a yellow sleeping bag on the floor suddenly spoke. Their teacher, apparently. Aizawa.

  Hancock listened impassively as he explained the Quirk apprehension test. Expulsion threat. Logical ruse. She didn't care either way. She would succeed because she always did. Alone.

  The tests began.

  50-meter dash: Hancock used Perfume Femur on herself, the hormonal enhancement boosting her leg strength and speed. "6.2 seconds," the device announced.

  Bakugo went next. "4.13 seconds."

  She glanced at him. Fast. Powerful. The explosion propulsion was effective.

  Grip strength: Her petrification abilities didn't help here, but years of training alone had given her decent physical conditioning.

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  Standing long jump: Another Perfume Femur-enhanced leap cleared the sandbox easily.

  Sustained side-steps: Boring, but she excelled through pure physical conditioning.

  Ball throw: This was where her limitations became apparent.

  Hancock held the softball, considering. She could enhance her arm strength with her Quirk, but she'd seen Bakugo throw 705.2 meters with his explosions. Her classmates had various Quirks perfectly suited for this.

  She had power against people. Against objects... she was still developing techniques.

  This is why I need to grow stronger, she thought. Why I need to create new applications of my Quirk.

  She kissed her palm, coating it with pink energy, then wound up and threw with all her enhanced strength.

  "384.6 meters."

  Respectable, but nowhere near the top. She saw a few students glance at her with surprise—perhaps they'd expected more from someone so composed.

  Hancock's expression didn't change. She simply returned to her position, already thinking about how to improve.

  I need techniques for ranged combat. For non-living objects. The Pistol Kiss isn't enough. I need to develop something stronger.

  When Midoriya—the green-haired boy—finally took his turn and broke his finger to throw 705.3 meters, only to have Aizawa erase his Quirk the second time, Hancock watched with clinical interest.

  A self-destructive Quirk, she noted. Or one he can't control. Pathetic.

  But he'd still scored higher than her in this test. And that look in his eyes when Aizawa challenged him...

  Determination, she recognized. Despite having nothing, he refuses to quit.

  Something uncomfortable twisted in her chest. She ignored it.

  The results were posted. Hancock ranked eighth overall—her strong performances in the physical tests balanced against her weaker showings in the ball throw and a few others that favored flashier Quirks.

  She stared at the ranking without emotion. Eighth. Not fourth. Not third. Eighth.

  Behind Todoroki, Bakugo, Yaoyorozu, Iida, Tokoyami, Shoji, and Ojiro.

  I have room to improve, she thought, and it was true. Her Quirk was powerful but specialized. She'd spent years alone, developing what she could, but she'd clearly reached the limits of self-teaching.

  That's fine. I'll develop new techniques here. I'll become stronger.

  "Midoriya has the lowest score, so he's expelled," Aizawa announced.

  Hancock watched without expression as the teacher revealed it was a logical ruse. She'd suspected as much.

  As the class filed out, Bakugo deliberately shoulder-checked Midoriya, snarling something threatening. Hancock observed from a distance.

  Childhood friends, perhaps, she analyzed. A relationship turned toxic. The strong bullying the weak.

  It disgusted her, though she couldn't articulate why. Perhaps because she'd been the weak one once, when her father left. Or perhaps because even in her isolation, she'd never actively hurt others.

  She simply... existed apart from them.

  "You're pretty strong!"

  Hancock blinked. A girl with pink skin and small horns was smiling at her. "I'm Ashido Mina! That kick you did during the tests was so cool! We should train together sometime!"

  "No thank you," Hancock said quietly, turning away.

  "Oh... okay." Ashido sounded hurt but not offended. "Well, if you change your mind...!"

  Hancock wouldn't change her mind. She never did.

  As she walked home alone, Hancock replayed the day in her mind. Eighth place. It stung more than she wanted to admit.

  I need new techniques, she thought. Mero Mero Mellow only works on living things. Pistol Kiss and Perfume Femur are effective but limited. And my emotional manipulation through touch...

  She looked at her hands. The ability to influence emotions through physical contact or kisses—to make others feel calm, feel attracted, feel anything she wanted them to feel. It was powerful, intimate, and she'd barely explored it.

  Because exploring it meant touching people. Kissing them. Letting them close.

  No, she thought firmly. I'll find another way. I'll develop techniques that don't require...

  But even as she thought it, she knew. If she wanted to be the strongest, if she wanted to prove she needed no one, she had to push past her own barriers.

  She had to grow.

  And Boa Hancock refused to be weak ever again.