MHA 2025!

The Great Hall was a swirling vortex of noise and nervous energy. I, Kyoka Jiro, found myself standing in the throng of first years, my stomach doing somersaults that had nothing to do with excitement and everything to do with sheer, unadulterated terror. It was my first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the only problem was that i knew more than i should, the memory of being kyoka jiro was still very fresh in my mind.

My robes, stiff and new, felt foreign against my skin. They were Slytherin robes, and even though the green and silver felt…right, something twisted uncomfortably inside me. I remembered the other Kyoka, the one who valued bravery and loyalty above all else, the one who would have felt more at home beneath a scarlet banner.

I glanced around, my gaze flickering past floating candles and the expectant faces of older students. Then I saw them.

First, the platinum blond hair, slicked back with an almost aggressive perfection, caught the light. Katsuki Bakugo, or rather, Draco Malfoy of this world, stood with an air of nonchalant arrogance that could curdle milk. He sneered subtly at a group of Hufflepuffs, and the familiar fire ignited in his eyes.

Then came the others. Eijiro Kirishima, this life's Gregory Goyle, looked endearingly awkward as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Denki Kaminari, Theodore Nott, leaned against a pillar, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. Hanta Sero, Vincent Crabbe, chewed gum with a monotonous rhythm. And finally, Mina Ashido, Daphne Greengrass, her bright pink hair a stark contrast to the somber robes, whispered something to Bakugo, earning herself a curt nod.

They were the Slytherin elite, and somehow, inexplicably, I, Kyoka Jiro – masquerading as Pansy Parkinson – was one of them.

A sharp pain pierced my chest. I was Pansy Parkinson. A girl known for her cruel tongue and unwavering allegiance to Bakugo. A girl who would have probably spent her days sneering at a certain bespectacled Gryffindor with a lightning bolt scar.

Professor McGonagall, her face as stern and unyielding as I remembered, stepped forward. "First years, follow me."

The Sorting Ceremony was a blur. Names were called, hats were placed, and houses were assigned. The cheers and applause echoed through the hall, a confusing soundtrack to the internal turmoil that was raging within me.

"Bakugo, Katsuki!"

The hall seemed to hold its breath as Bakugo strutted to the stool. The Sorting Hat barely touched his head before bellowing, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted. The predictable outcome did little to quell the knot in my stomach.

One by one, the others were sorted, falling into their expected places. Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido - all joined Bakugo at the Slytherin table.

Finally, the name I was dreading.

"Kyoka Jiro!"

My heart hammered against my ribs. This was it. This was the moment I would solidify my place in this twisted reality. I forced myself to walk towards the stool, my legs feeling like lead. I ignored Bakugo's encouraging smirk and tried to ignore the expectant glances from the other Slytherins.

As the hat descended, I closed my eyes, whispering a silent plea into the musty fabric. Please, anything but Slytherin. Please let me be something more.

Silence. An eternity stretched between the moment the hat touched my head and the moment it finally spoke. My ears rang with the anticipation.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The roar of the Slytherin table was deafening. I felt myself being tugged towards them, propelled forward by the force of tradition and expectation. Bakugo clapped me on the back, a rare sign of approval. Kirishima flashed me a toothy grin. I forced a smile in return, but inside, I was crumbling.

As I sat at the Slytherin table, I knew I had a choice to make. I could embrace this new identity, become the cruel and ambitious Pansy Parkinson. Or, I could find a way to be myself, Kyoka Jiro, even within the confines of Slytherin house. It wouldn't be easy, but I couldn't ignore that familiar spark of courage – the one that told me it was worth fighting for.

I looked up, my gaze meeting Bakugo's piercing red eyes. A challenge flickered within them, a silent test. I didn't flinch. This wasn't my first day at Hogwarts. This was my first day fighting for who I truly was. And I was ready to fight.