Shiori operated entirely on a system of aggressive double standards. From her first day at U.A., she branded herself as the ultimate champion of the girls, putting on an elegant, high-society persona wrapped in loud feminist rhetoric. If Yaoyorozu or Ashido walked into the room wearing a basic outfit, Shiori would gasp dramatically, shower them in worship, and call them literal goddesses. But the exact second any of the Class 1-A boys spoke up, her face would drop into utter disgust. To Shiori, the male students were nothing but tacky, unrefined losers whose very presence was an inconvenience. She claimed her dating standards were just standard boundaries, casually telling the room that a guy needed a salary out-earning top global CEOs and a willingness to act as her personal full-time servant just to qualify as the 'bare minimum.' She lived to be the absolute authority on who deserved attention, which meant she completely despised seeing anyone bypass her to interact with a guy.

Right now, the heights alliance common room was divided into its usual afternoon hubs. Shiori was sitting gracefully on the main armchair, her long white hair catching the light as she held court with Mina and Hagakure, loudly praising a new pair of shoes while throwing critical, judgmental side-eyes across the room.

A few yards away near the training gear lockers, a conversation was happening. A male classmate was standing there, listening as a question was brought up regarding a specific training layout and exercise technique. The conversation was entirely focused on hero work, but the mere sight of attention being given to a guy caused Shiori’s elegant smile to freeze into a hard, venomous line.

Pushing herself out of the armchair, she glided across the floorboards, her heavy gold belt catching the light as she smoothly injected her presence into the space. She let out a loud, mocking laugh, looking down her nose with an incredibly patronizing expression.

"Oh, wow... I can't believe what I'm hearing right now," Shiori scoffed, her voice carrying easily across the entire lounge as she folded her arms. "Are we seriously standing here begging the boys for advice on training? It's honestly so embarrassing to watch. Personally, I find it hilarious how some people will find any excuse to coddle a guy's ego just to get them to notice them. He's literally a tacky, clueless extra, and you're treating his basic workout routine like it's some kind of elite tactical revelation. It's just sad."

Mina and Hagakure stopped talking, the entire common room going dead quiet as the male student blinked in sheer, defensive shock at the unprovoked insult.

"Whoa, hold on, Kamijo!" Kirishima spoke up from the kitchen counter, his brow furrowing in genuine anger. "They were just asking a question about combat forms! Why are you coming over here just to talk trash and make things weird?"

The instant she faced a wave of pushback, Shiori’s arrogant posture completely vanished. Her deep blue eyes instantly flooded with massive, trembling tears, and she shrank back, clutching her hands over her chest as if she had just been physically assaulted in front of the entire class.

"O-Oh my gosh... Kirishima-kun, why are you yelling at me?!" Shiori wept softly, her voice trembling with a fragile, heartbreaking sob as she turned her tear-filled gaze toward the other girls for protection. "I was just trying to point out that we shouldn't rely on the boys for everything! I work so hard to uplift the women in this class, and the second I speak up, the guys immediately gang up and intimidate me! It's so deeply unfair! I'm just trying to protect our standards, but I guess everyone thinks it's okay to just bully me for it!"

She let out a fragile, sniffly whimper, her blue eyes narrowing behind her fingers to cast a sharp, intensely toxic glare across the space, waiting to see how the room handles the tension.