MY sensei is an shinobi

You are an what?

Izuki Midoriya, a small figure standing no taller than 4 feet 9 inches, walked slowly through the streets of Musutafu. Her body, thin and slender, seemed almost fragile beneath the oversized Aldera Junior High female uniform she wore. Long, fluffy dark-green hair cascaded around her head in wild curls that defied gravity, casting deep shadows on her pale face. Her wide, watery eyes—an identical shade of green as her hair—seemed to be forever stretched wide, giving her the look of someone constantly surprised by the world. Four symmetrical freckles adorned her cheeks in a diamond pattern, one on each side of her face, further adding to her innocent, almost childlike appearance.

But today, that innocence was tainted by the sorrow that clouded her gaze.
Her white socks were dingy, tinged with the faint gray of ash, and her red sneakers were scuffed and singed, as if they'd seen too many close calls with danger. A yellow bookbag dangled from her shoulder, heavy with the weight of her thoughts more than anything else. Her head hung low, her heart heavier with each step she took toward her house. The sun was barely setting, casting a golden glow over the city—a beautiful scene that was completely lost on Izuki.

Fifteen years old, and already she felt like the world was swallowing her whole.
She gripped her notebook tighter, her eyes drifting down to the pages that had once meant everything to her. The crisp, clean paper had been burned and charred at the edges, the precious signature of All Might—her hero—still sprawled across two full pages. That should have been the highlight of her day, her year even. She had met All Might, the Symbol of Peace. She had his autograph, the proof she'd been so desperate for. But it was all tainted now, the glow of that moment snuffed out by everything else that had gone wrong.

"At least I got to meet All Might..." she muttered to herself, her voice small and sad, the words doing little to lift the weight pressing down on her chest. She traced the burned edges of the pages, biting back the frustration that threatened to spill over.

She sighed deeply, a sound that seemed too heavy for such a small girl. Her eyes darted to the sky, as if asking the universe why it was so intent on making her life miserable.
"How much worse could this damn day get?" she whispered bitterly, her voice barely above a whisper.

But even as she said it, she knew better than to tempt fate. Somehow, things always found a way to get worse.
Izuki barely had time to process her own miserable thoughts when a familiar, sharp voice cut through the quiet evening air.
"You damn quirkless freak!"
Izuki winced, her heart sinking at the sound. Of all the people she could've run into after a day like this, it had to be her. The quickened footsteps were unmistakable, and Izuki turned just in time to see her ex-best friend stomping toward her. Katsumi Bakugo.

Standing at 5 feet 1 inch, Katsumi's slender frame was the envy of most girls their age. Her pale skin, heart-shaped face, and spiky ash-blonde hair were always on point, even in her perpetual state of anger. Ruby-red eyes blazed with fury, her lips twisted in a scowl that was all too familiar to Izuki. She wore the same Aldera Junior High uniform, though Katsumi had hers unbuttoned, her vest tied loosely around her hips, giving off that effortlessly rebellious vibe she was known for. And right now, she looked ready to explode—literally.

"Kacchan?" Izuki's voice wavered as she tried to make sense of Katsumi's fury. "What's wrong?"
Katsumi was breathing hard, like she'd run straight from hell to yell at her. Not that it would've been the first time.
"Listen, you Deku!" Katsumi growled, eyes narrowing with a seething rage that made Izuki instinctively take a step back. "I never asked for someone as weak as you to help me out. Don't you dare fucking think you can look down on me! Got that?"