"Are you listening, Monoma-kun?"
The voice cut through the fog in his head like a ruler snapping on a desk. Clean. Sharp. Familiar in the way of a morning alarm, existing just to ruin your sleep.
"There's no reason for you to provoke Class A like that."
Monoma's eyes fluttered open.
His neck ached—the kind of ache that told him he'd either slept in a terrible position or something had hit it. Light spilled in from a classroom window—warm, bright, almost gentle—and for a second, he honestly thought he was still in bed, still half-drifting after a long day.
Then his brain caught up.
A classroom.
Desks.
Uniforms.
And standing right in front of him—
A girl with orange hair tied into a side ponytail, teal eyes narrowed with concern, and an expression that said she was being patient with him by sheer force of will.
She looked familiar in a way that made his stomach drop.
"Kendo…?" he whispered, testing the name like saying it out loud might break the scene.
Her brows lifted. "Yes, Monoma-kun. Is something the matter?"
His throat went dry.
No. There was something very much the matter.
Last night, after a grueling day, he'd watched the finale of My Hero Academia. It wasn't perfect—he had opinions, a whole list of them—but he'd still loved it for what it was. He remembered rolling over, letting exhaustion win, thinking, Alright… that's the end.
Except apparently it wasn't.
Because now he was here. Sitting in a U.A. classroom. Looking at Itsuka Kendo.
And she was calling him—
Monoma-kun.
His heartbeat kicked up.
A blond-haired boy with a smug grin and a dramatic hand-to-bangs pose flashed through his mind like an unwanted cutaway.
…Don't tell him.
Monoma stared blankly for half a second too long.
Had he transmigrated into him?
A cold shiver ran down his spine, followed immediately by something embarrassingly close to excitement.
An anime world.
A world with Quirks.
And he wasn't a random background character either. He'd landed in someone with real potential.
Neito Monoma's Quirk was simple on paper: Copy.
Touch someone, borrow their Quirk, and use it like it was his.
Except "Copy" abilities were always the ones that turned terrifying when someone actually bothered to think. The kind that started as a gimmick and ended as a problem. The kind of power that scaled hard if you had timing, creativity, and a complete lack of shame.
Characters like Adam came to mind—stealing the gods' moves like it was instinct. Garou —adapting mid-fight until the gap stopped mattering. Rimuru —turning "absorb" into an entire cheat code itself.
Copy-type powers always looked modest at first.
Then they broke the ceiling.
And Monoma had something the original didn't.
Future knowledge.
If he could position himself to copy the right Quirks at the right time—if he could get his hands on monsters like Overhaul, Decay, or New Order…
He didn't even want to think about what that would turn him into.
His mind raced, sparks flying in all directions, and two goals formed so quickly it almost felt like they'd been waiting for him to arrive.
First: make himself stronger—and drag Class 1-B into the spotlight with him.
Class B had way too many interesting Quirks to be treated like side content. If he was going to live here, he wasn't going to let them stay in the background.
Second: survive long enough to enjoy being here. Maybe even starting a proper anime romance like a Rom-com.
Not a confession. Not a grand promise. Just a quiet vow to himself.
If the universe had thrown him into a series, he wasn't going to waste it like some dense rom-com lead who needed five seasons to realize holding hands meant something.
Absolutely not.
A pat landed on his shoulder, snapping him back so hard his thoughts scattered.
He realized—too late—that he'd unconsciously tilted his head, sunlight in his eyes, and struck that exact Monoma hand pose over his bangs… while grinning like a villain midway through a monologue.
Kendo stared at him, unimpressed.
"Mo-no-ma—kun," she said slowly, voice tinged with annoyance, "I thought something was wrong with you… But it looks like you're up to no good again."
Monoma's grin froze.
"I hope it has nothing to do with Class A this time."
Panic hit him like a slap.
"Ahem—! Um, no!" Monoma straightened so fast it probably made him look even guiltier. "Kendo, I swear. It has nothing to do with them!"
Kendo crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. She had the exact posture of a person who'd heard this speech before and already knew how it ended.
"Good," she said. "Because as class president, you should be focusing on what's coming up tomorrow."
Monoma blinked.
Tomorrow…?
He sat up so fast his chair screeched against the floor. A couple of heads turned. Somewhere in the room, someone sighed like this was just part of the morning routine.
"What's tomorrow?" he asked.
Kendo's eyes widened. "Really, Monoma-kun?" She leaned in slightly, disbelief written all over her face. "After that whole situation with Midoriya-kun—complaining about me giving out information—and you're telling me you forgot?"
Monoma opened his mouth, then thought better of it, because he had exactly zero safe responses.
Kendo continued anyway. "Vlad-sensei said he's going to make an important announcement about the practical final exam. Something about how it'll work this year."
As if the universe wanted to punctuate her sentence, the school bell rang down the hall—sharp, clean, echoing through the building in that way that made everything feel official and unavoidable.
Kendo tapped his shoulder again. Gentler this time, like she was giving him one last chance to act normal.
"Just don't forget this time, okay?" she said.
Then she waved, flashing him a bright smile before walking off like she hadn't just dropped a plot bomb on his head.
Monoma slowly leaned back into his chair.
Okay… good.
His mind latched onto the information like a lifeline.
At least he knew what arc this was now.
First Term Final Exams Arc.
And then—like a delayed punchline that arrived a second too late—another memory surfaced.
Out of all of Class 1-B…
Monoma was the only one who failed.
His smile twitched.
"…Yeah," he muttered, eyes narrowing with fresh determination. "That's not happening this time."