The halls of U.A. were… spotless.
Clean tiles. Glass doors. Banners preaching peace and justice. The place looked more like a polished corporate building than a battlefield training ground.
Ren Kaido strolled through them casually, hands in his pockets, a relaxed smile on his face.
New uniform snug. Hair messy but cool.
Nothing about him screamed danger. Nothing screamed "problem."
That was the point.
Principal Nezu's voice chirped behind him, a little too cheery for Ren's taste.
"Ah! There you are, Kaido-kun! Welcome, welcome! I hope the walk from the main gate wasn't too confusing!"
Ren turned, smile still on.
"Not at all, sir. Your school's got good signage. I've never seen 'Hero' and 'Responsibility' in such big letters before."
Nezu laughed.
Aizawa didn't.
The tired-eyed pro stood beside the principal, arms crossed, evaluating him like a puzzle that didn't quite fit.
Ren held his gaze.
Still smiling.
Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "You sure you belong in 1-A?"
"Pretty sure," Ren replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Unless you're saying I don't look like a hero."
Aizawa didn't answer.
Ren loved that.
They guided him through the halls, talking about curriculum, dorms, training facilities. He nodded, listened, gave polite "oohs" and "ahhs." The whole time, his mind was moving ten steps ahead.
So much glass. So many blind spots.
That stairwell's unmonitored. That hallway curves out of sight. That wing? Perfect place for a private talk… or something filthier.
He didn't remember his past life. Not clearly.
But his body ached for something. Some power. Some dominance. Like a beast waking up hungry but forgetting what its favorite meat tasted like.
Nezu stopped outside a classroom.
"Here we are—Class 1-A. Your new family!"
Ren chuckled. "Hope they like loud brothers."
Nezu laughed again. "Oh, I'm sure they'll get used to you."
Aizawa opened the door.
The class went quiet.
"Everyone," Nezu said, stepping inside, "this is Ren Kaido. He's transferring into your class starting today."
Ren walked in, easy and relaxed. "Yo."
Some students gave nods. A few offered waves.
A couple girls—Uraraka and Mina—exchanged a look.
Momo's eyes flicked toward him briefly, then back to her notebook.
He felt all of it.
He tasted their subtle attention like flavor on the air.
Aizawa spoke up. "Kaido. Your quirk?"
Ren turned to the class, scratching his chin like he wasn't used to explaining it.
"It's called Pinnacle. Basically, I can boost my body—strength, reflexes, stamina, even healing. Not unlimited though. Think of it like… shifting into fifth gear for a while before the engine overheats."
Kirishima gave a low whistle. "Sounds manly as hell."
Ren smiled. "It gets the job done."
He was seated at the back of the room, by the window.
Classic.
He liked it there.
Good view. Easy exit. Fewer people behind him. More in front of him to watch.
As the class went back to chatter, Ren sat still, watching, listening.
He soaked it in.
Their voices. Their mannerisms.
Uraraka's overly bright tone.
Mina's casual touches.
Momo's stiff posture, quiet grace.
He could smell the insecurity. The comfort. The vulnerability.
And he liked it.
"You all think I'm just some new kid," he thought, face unreadable.
"But I've walked these halls before."
"In another life, I took everything from you."
He didn't remember the full details.
But sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could hear it:
The moans. The gasps. The whimpers. The way their bodies gave in to him, even as their voices said no.
And then… yes.
That night in the dorms, everyone gathered in the common room. Getting to know the new guy.
Ren played his part well.
Smiled at the jokes. Laughed at the dumb games.
Told a few fake stories about his old school. Earned some chuckles.
When Uraraka passed him snacks, their fingers brushed.
She giggled.
He didn't.
He stared at his hand.
Something in his blood burned.
In his room later, shirt off, breath steady, eyes cold…
Ren looked in the mirror.
"They don't remember Eros."
"But I do."
He ran a hand down his chest. Felt the tension in his gut.
The heat rising again.
"They'll remember soon enough."