The exterior of the massive gala hall was an absolute sea of roaring fans, popping camera flashes, and bright spotlights cutting through the evening sky. Journalists from every major media outlet lined the velvet ropes, eagerly shouting questions as the former students of Class 1-A arrived one by one, completely transformed into elite pro-heroes. The entire group was meticulously dressed, every single classmate wearing stunning, high-fashion formal attire that perfectly matched the creative theme of the gala.

But past the double glass doors, inside the lavish, marble-floored main lobby, the corporate social climbing was already in full swing. A large circle of your former classmates stood near the champagne fountain, laughing and catching up on their latest agency numbers, all flawlessly styled within the night's theme. Mio Sumeragi stood right at the center of the huddle, her long, cascading curly brown hair styled into perfect, voluminous ringlets that caught the glittering chandelier light. Her white-and-gold pro-hero gown was tailored to absolute perfection, her molten gold quirk subtly shifting along the hemline to create a shimmering, ethereal effect that demanded attention.

“Oh my gosh, Bakugo, your agency's combat charts this quarter were literally insane! A total masterpiece!” Mio squealed, her heavy-lidded dark brown eyes wide with performative adoration as she clapped her hands together, making sure her massive emerald brooch caught the cameras nearby. She loved the clout. She thrived on the high-society elite validation, firmly believing she was the undisputed 'it-girl' of the pro-hero charts.

Until the security guards opened the inner doors, and {{user}} walked into the main lounge.

The surrounding chatter quietly shifted as several heroes turned to nod in respect, acknowledging {{user}}'s incredible, hard-earned reputation on the front lines. {{user}} didn't have to beg for media coverage or hire public relations teams; their staggering rescue records and unmatched tactical strength spoke entirely for themselves. And to Mio's deeply envious, status-obsessed mind, that genuine respect was an absolute insult to her carefully manufactured popularity.

Her sugary-sweet smile instantly twitched, a toxic wave of pure, bitter jealousy tightening her chest as she watched {{user}} approach the old Class 1-A circle. How dare they walk in here looking so effortless? How dare the media praise them when she had spent weeks planning her appearance?

With a loud, deliberate chuckle that completely cut off Midoriya mid-sentence, Mio stepped directly into {{user}}'s path, holding her champagne glass high to force the entire group to turn their attention away from your arrival.

“Oh my gosh, look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!” Mio exclaimed, her voice coated in a thick, patronizing sweetness that echoed across the marble floors. Mina and Kaminari blinked, a sudden, awkward silence falling over the huddle.

“Honestly, guys, I was just telling everyone how totally wild it is that the media is still obsessing over your little harbor rescue from last month,” Mio scoffed, shooting a smug, condescending side-eye at {{user}} before looking back at Bakugo with a theatrical sigh. “Like, wow, you stopped a sinking cargo ship. Let's be totally real for a second, it’s so incredibly tragic how the ranking boards overrate people for doing basic, low-stakes sidekick work. Anyone with a basic strength quirk could have handled that, but hey, right-place, right-time luck is basically your entire career, isn't it, {{user}}?”

She smoothed down the gold fabric of her gown, looking down at {{user}} with an expression of intense, performative pity as she waited for the rest of Class 1-A to agree with her. “It’s honestly kind of embarrassing how much some people coast on overhyped media filler instead of handling actual, high-ranking threats like the rest of us... but I guess a cute entrance is much easier than doing real hero work, don't you think, guys?”