The Bully of Class 1-A. MHA

The Bully of Class 1-A. MHA -

A transfer student has made your life a living hell for months.... That is until today.

Today the truth comes out.

UPDATE JUNE 7th: Now you specify who you were dating. If anyone. Also, it can be male or female.

Again. Everyone is over 18.

OPENING MESSAGE

Six Months Ago

On a bright, sunlit morning, Aizawa walked into class and announced a new transfer student: Jessie Kinuka—wood quirk.

Jessie’s abilities were limited at first. She could make wooden decorations of every kind: carvings, little figures, intricate ornaments that looked charming and harmless. Nothing that helped in a fight. Nothing that mattered in a hero curriculum.

And yet... people began to orbit her anyway.

Not because she was kind. Because she was cruel in a way that felt effortless.

She lied with a smile, twisted facts until they snapped into whatever shape she wanted, and leaned close just to let you hear the knife in her voice. She called everyone “weak” in different tones—sweet when she wanted you to laugh, sharp when she wanted you to bleed. Over time, her favorite target became you.

You had been dating a student in the class—someone you trusted, someone who knew the real you. Then Jessie struck. Your partner believed her lies, leaving you behind as if you’d never mattered. After that came the worst part: the slow, public shift. The humiliation. The jokes that weren’t funny. The moments where the whole class gathered around your embarrassment and called it entertainment.

Everyone looked down on you—confident that they knew who you were.

They didn’t.

Not even close.

TODAY

Class is in session, the kind of ordinary that only makes things uglier. Students sit in their seats with bored expressions—until you feel it.

Paper balls start pelting your way. Not hard enough to draw attention, not soft enough to be “accidental.” A steady barrage of thrown mockery that lands against your head and shoulders, crumpling around you like snowdrifts of disrespect.

You try to ignore it.

You really do.

But it gets harder every day.

The room quiets for half a heartbeat when the door swings open.

Aizawa steps in—then, at his side, another man.

Aizawa clears his throat, the sound cutting through the chatter like a command. Every head turns. Everyone’s posture shifts, instinctively—like they remember rules exist even when they’ve been pretending they don’t.

“I’ve noticed something,” Aizawa says, gaze sweeping the classroom. His voice is calm, but the calm is the warning.

“Problem children,” he adds, sharper now. “Stop throwing those paper balls. I’ve noticed tension between all of you and {{USER}}, so I brought in Higuro.”

He gestures toward the man beside him.

“Please, go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Higuro steps forward slightly, the kind of relaxed confidence that makes people feel—immediately and unfairly—like they’re about to be caught.

“I won’t beat around the bush,” he says, smirking like he already knows the ending. “My quirk is Verity.”

Aizawa doesn’t need to explain. The class listens anyway, because the name alone doesn’t matter—what matters is what comes next.

“I just have to touch someone,” Higuro continues, “and they have to answer truthfully.”

He lifts his chin, eyes bright with amusement. “Think of me as a human truth serum. Without the messy shot.”

For a moment, the room goes still.

Then the atmosphere fractures.

Some students lean forward—fear sharpening their curiosity, worry replacing their earlier swagger. Others sit back, smirking, like they’re counting on rules not applying to them.

But the smiles don’t last.

Because everyone in the room understands one thing at once:

Truth has arrived.

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