The dorm's sliding door shut with a soft click. Sunlight filtered through paper screens, casting warm patterns on tatami mats and lacquered wood. Your suitcase sat untouched in the corner—why unpack when magic could do it later? You smirked, snapping your fingers. The air shimmered, and suddenly dragons coiled lazily above your head, scales glinting like molten gold, while elves draped in starlight danced between them.

Itadori's jaw dropped. "Whoa! Is that your cursed technique?! How does it—?"

You leveled him with a stare sharp enough to slice cursed spirits. "Secrets, Itadori," you purred, dissolving the illusions with a flick of your wrist. "A girl's gotta keep her mysteries."

Nobara snorted, arms crossed. "Show-off."

Megumi merely raised an eyebrow, though his eyes lingered on the fading sparkles.

"Alright, kids," you said, flopping backward onto the plush futon. "Scram. I need beauty sleep before tonight's chaos."

They filed out—Nobara grumbling about "prima donnas," Itadori still buzzing with questions, Megumi silent as a shadow. The door slid shut, and you exhaled, the weight of the day crashing over you.

Snap. Your uniform vanished, replaced by silk pajamas. Magic perks, you mused, burrowing into the covers.

But as silence settled, your chest tightened.

Flashback snippet—blurred, dreamlike:

Izuku's freckled grin under UA's towering gates.

Your empty desk in Class 1-A, dust gathering.

A text left unanswered: "Where'd you go??"

You groaned, muffling your face in a pillow. "Stupid... stupid everything."

Had UA already erased you? Would they even care?

The camera lingered on your curled form, backlit by dusk's amber glow, as the soundtrack swelled—a bittersweet piano melody tinged with static, like a radio tuned to a forgotten frequency.

Cut to black.
Text on-screen: "Meanwhile, in another world..."

SCENEBREAK

The bell rang, its shrill tone slicing through the haze of Izuku Midoriya's thoughts. Around him, classmates shuffled out, backpacks slung over shoulders, laughter bouncing off UA's polished walls. But Izuku stayed frozen, his notebook open to a half-scribbled page: "Cursed Energy vs. Quirks—similarities???"

His pencil trembled. The words blurred.

A shadow fell over his desk.

Aizawa Shota loomed, his capture scarf dangling like a coiled serpent. But his voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Midoriya."

Izuku flinched. "S-Sensei, I'm—"

"Save it." Aizawa crouched, meeting his eyes. "This isn't about today's lesson. It's her, isn't it?"

The dam broke.

Izuku's fists clenched, green lightning flickering faintly at his fingertips—One For All reacting to his turmoil. "I... I keep waiting," he whispered. "Every morning, I think... maybe she'll text. Maybe she'll just... appear again." A tear splashed onto the notebook, smudging the ink. "But she's gone. And I don't even know why."

Aizawa sighed, the weight of countless lost students etched into his tired face. He reached into his pocket and slid a small object across the desk: a charms bracelet, one bead cracked, glowing faintly with residual magic.

"She left this behind," he said. "Toshinori found it in Training Ground Beta. It's still... warm."

Izuku's breath hitched. He cradled the charm, its heat seeping into his palms like a phantom touch.

Cut to Y/N's dorm in Jujutsu High:
You jolted awake, gasping. Moonlight streamed through the window, and your wrist burned where the bracelet once sat.

Flashback—UA's rooftop, the day you vanished:
Izuku's laughter, bright and nervous. "M-Maybe we'll get paired for the festival!"
Your smile, forced. "Yeah... maybe."

You clutched your empty wrist, throat tight. "Idiot... I'm sorry."

Meanwhile, back at UA:
Aizawa stood, his voice gruff but kind. "The world's bigger than we know, Problem Child. Wherever she is... she's fighting to get back." He paused, adding quietly, "And so should you."

Izuku wiped his face, the charm's glow reflecting in his determined eyes. "I'll save her," he muttered, not to Aizawa, but to the ghost in his heart. "I'll find you, Y/N."

Cut to black.
Text on-screen: "Two worlds. One heartbeat."

SCENEBREAK

The morning sun painted the room in a golden haze, its rays catching dust motes that swirled like lazy fireflies. You burrowed deeper into the futon, half-convinced the world could wait another century.

Then a shadow fell over you.

"Sleeping in, are we, little bird?"

Gojo Satoru leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, sunglasses perched precariously on his snowy hair. His grin was a blade of pure mischief, slicing through the serenity.

You squinted up at him, brain still fogged with remnants of dreams—Izuku's voice, UA's gates crumbling to static. "Sensei..." you mumbled, voice gravelly.

He crouched suddenly, face inches from yours. "Ah-ah! None of that 'sensei' nonsense." His breath smelled like caramel latte. "Call me Gojo. Or 'Satoru.' Or 'The Handsome Savior of Your Boring Morning.' Your pick~."

You shoved a pillow at his face. "Go away."

He dodged effortlessly, laughing. "Rude! And here I was, kindly offering to escort you to breakfast." He flicked your forehead, the touch feather-light yet jolting you fully awake. "Up, up! The cafeteria's curry bread waits for no one!"

You groaned, but he'd already thrown open the window, letting in a gust of cherry blossoms and the distant shouts of Nobara and Itadori bickering.

Cut to a split-screen montage:

Left side: You, hair disheveled, stumbling into a sweater with magic-assisted speed.

Right side: Gojo lounging on your desk, stealing a candy from your stash. "Y'know," he said through a mouthful, "if you're this slow on missions, I'll have to carry you. Princess-style."

You shot him a death glare. "Try it and lose a limb."

He smirked, tossing the candy wrapper at your head. "Feisty! I'll allow it."

As you shuffled past him, he ruffled your hair with exaggerated chaos, his touch lingering just long enough to whisper, "P.S.—Your little UA friends? They're tougher than you think."

You froze.

But he was already skipping down the hall, singing off-key about curry bread.