Future Echoes - Monoma Neito x Fem! Reader
Chapter 1
Synopsis ⭐️ After years of waiting, paperwork, and uncertainty, Y/N finally begins her second year at U.A. High School as an international transfer student. Expecting awkward stares and distance, she instead finds herself welcomed into the lively chaos of Class 2-B, where strong personalities, curious classmates, and one particularly dramatic blond student make her first day far more memorable than expected. But while Y/N settles into her new life in Japan, there are still parts of herself, and her mysterious quirk, that she keeps carefully out of reach.
Word Count ⭐️ 2.4k
⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎
The morning air in Musutafu felt different from the air back home.
It was cooler, cleaner somehow, carrying the faint scent of rain from the night before. From the narrow balcony outside a small apartment building, the city looked alive already. Trains moved in the distance. Store shutters rolled open one by one. A few people hurried along the sidewalk below with umbrellas tucked under their arms, ready for weather that had not yet decided what it wanted to be.
Inside one of the apartments, Y/N stood still in the center of a room that was barely larger than a dorm.
There was a low bed pushed against the wall, a desk stacked with neatly organized papers, two cardboard boxes that still had not been unpacked, and a tiny kitchen area with a single burner stove. It was simple. Plain. Temporary. But it was hers.
She looked at herself in the mirror hanging near the door.
The U.A. uniform rested neatly on her frame, pressed and spotless. It felt strange wearing it. For years, U.A. had been something distant, something she only read about in articles, heard about in hero documentaries, or saw mentioned in world news.
Then the war happened. The country had suffered. Heroes had fallen. Schools had changed. Recovery is still ongoing.
And somehow, in the middle of all of that, her transfer request had continued moving through offices, paperwork, interviews, recommendations, and endless waiting.
Two years. Two years of forms, calls, language tests, travel documents, and uncertainty.
Now she was here. A second-year student at U.A. High School.
She adjusted the collar of her blazer and picked up her bag from beside the bed.
"First day," she murmured to herself. Her voice sounded calmer than she felt.
On the small table near the window sat an old silver pocket watch. Its surface was scratched from age, but polished clean. The chain curled beside it like sleeping metal.
Y/N's eyes rested on it for only a second before she reached out and closed the lid gently.
"Not today," she said quietly.
Then she left.
⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎
U.A. High School was larger than she imagined.
Even after seeing photos online, nothing compared to standing in front of it in person. The rebuilt campus looked modern, clean, and stronger than before. Security gates stood at every entrance. New support structures had been added to several buildings. The grounds were wide, green, and full of movement.
Students crossed pathways in groups, some laughing, some half-awake, some already arguing.
Hero course students were easy to notice.
Confidence seemed to follow them like a second uniform.
Y/N tightened her hold on the strap of her bag and followed the map she had memorized three nights ago.
Class 2-B. Formerly, Class 1-B. Her assigned class.
She had heard things about students in whom she'll share two years with, of course. Class 1-A often received attention because of the events surrounding them. But Class 1-B had its own reputation: talented, competitive, loud in unexpected ways, and often underestimated.
She stopped in front of the classroom door.
Voices came from inside. A lot of voices.
She exhaled once, straightened her shoulders, and slid the door open.
Conversation stopped for half a second.
Twenty faces turned toward her. Then chaos began immediately.
"You're the transfer student!" someone exclaimed.
"She's tall," another student observed.
"You took too long to arrive," someone else joked.
"Welcome!" a voice called.
"Did you bring snacks from your country?" another asked.
"Everyone calm down," someone insisted, though nobody listened.
At the front of the room, standing beside the teacher's desk, was Vlad King.
He looked exactly as intimidating as the articles described, though somehow more tired. "Sit down," he ordered.
The room obeyed in stages.
Vlad crossed his arms and nodded toward Y/N. "This is Y/N L/N," he explained. "Due to a delayed international transfer process, she will be joining Class 2-B starting today. Treat her with respect."
A hand shot up immediately.
"Can we ask questions?" said a cheerful girl with horns.
"No," Vlad replied flatly.
The girl lowered her hand without shame.
Y/N gave a small bow. "Good morning. My name is Y/N L/N," she introduced herself. "It's nice to meet all of you. I'll do my best to learn from everyone here."
Her Japanese was careful and clear. Several students visibly relaxed.
"She speaks well," someone noted.
"Better than Monoma after exams," another student added.
"That happened one time!" someone shouted.
Y/N followed the voice.
Blond hair. Sharp eyes. Dramatic posture even while seated.
Monoma Neito.
He pointed at the class accusingly. "It was sleep deprivation and sabotage," Monoma insisted.
"It was you forgetting three words," another student responded flatly.
Kendo Itsuka, Y/N guessed.
Orange hair tied back, steady expression, obvious authority. The type of person who kept storms from becoming disasters.
Monoma turned to Y/N as if suddenly remembering an audience existed.
"Welcome to Class 2-B," he declared grandly. "You have made an excellent choice by joining the superior class."
"Sit down," Kendo said.
"I am sitting," Monoma argued.
"Lower your hand too," Kendo added.
Monoma slowly lowered his hand.
Y/N blinked once. This was going to be interesting.
Vlad gestured toward an empty seat near the middle row.
"You'll sit there," he instructed.
She thanked him quietly and walked to the desk. A few students smiled as she passed. One scooted a chair aside to make room. Another gave her a small wave.
No one looked annoyed. No one looked bothered. The tightness in her chest eased.
As she sat down, the horned girl from earlier leaned over immediately.
"I'm Pony Tsunotori! If you need help, ask me anything," Pony offered.
"Thank you," Y/N responded.
"Ibara Shiozaki," said the girl behind Pony, folding her hands politely. "May your school life be blessed." Green vine-like hair framed her calm face.
Y/N nodded, unsure how to respond except with gratitude.
To her left sat a quiet boy with dark hair and tired eyes.
"Juzo Honenuki," he introduced himself. "Ignore the loud ones when needed."
"Excuse me?" Monoma called from across the room. Juzo ignored him expertly.
Another student leaned back in his chair with an easy grin.
"Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu," he announced proudly.
He waited. Y/N looked at him.
"...That is your full name?" she asked.
"It is!" he confirmed.
"It's a strong name," she said.
He beamed. A ripple of laughter moved through the class.
This was not what she expected. She had prepared for the distance. Curiosity. Awkwardness.
Instead, Class 2-B felt like stepping into motion that had already made room for one more person.
⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎
Homeroom passed quickly. Schedules were handed out. New training regulations were explained. Safety reminders were repeated because, according to Vlad, certain students continued to test the meaning of "reasonable behavior."
Several heads turned toward Monoma.
"This class persecutes brilliance," Monoma declared.
"It persecutes you specifically," Kendo clapped back.
Y/N had to hide a smile.
During a break, students gathered around her desk in a loose circle. Questions arrived from every direction.
"What country are you from?"
"Was the transfer process really two years?"
"Do hero schools in your home country have combat tests?"
"Can you cook?"
"Why that one specifically?" Kendo asked when someone mentioned cooking.
"It matters," Tetsutetsu insisted seriously.
Y/N answered what she could.
Yes, the transfer process had taken too long.
Yes, hero schools existed back home.
No, she could not cook anything impressive.
That answer caused several students to nod in sympathy. Then someone asked the question she had expected from the beginning.
"What's your quirk?"
The room became quieter. Even Vlad glanced up from his papers, curious as to what the students could be discussing.
Y/N rested a hand on her bag. "It's called Second Hand," she explained.
Several students exchanged looks.
"That sounds cool," Tetsutetsu said. "That sounds suspicious," Monoma countered.
"It allows me to use clocks in certain ways," Y/N answered.
"In certain ways?" Monoma repeated.
"Yes."
"That explains nothing," he argued.
"That is because I am still explaining it carefully," she replied.
A few students laughed.
Monoma leaned forward, suddenly interested.
"Can it stop time?" he asked.
"Sometimes," Y/N responded.
"Can it reverse time?" he continued.
"Sometimes."
"Can it age people?"
"N-no."
"You hesitated," Monoma accused.
"I did not," she said.
"You absolutely did."
Kendo smacked the back of his head lightly. "Let her breathe," Kendo scolded.
Y/N hid another smile. She had no intention of revealing the full details yet. Not because she distrusted them, but because her quirk was difficult to explain properly. Difficult to use. Difficult to control if handled carelessly.
And exhausting. Even two uses could leave her drained for hours.
But they did not need to know that on the first day. Not yet.
Monoma narrowed his eyes.
"You are withholding information," he said.
"I just met you," Y/N replied.
"That has never stopped me before," he responded.
"I can believe that," she said dryly.
The class laughed louder this time.
Monoma looked personally offended.
Kendo gave Y/N a thumbs-up when he was not looking.
⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎
Lunch was louder than homeroom.
The cafeteria buzzed with students from every course. Y/N followed 2-B to a long table after being pulled there before she could politely refuse.
She sat between Pony and Juzo.
Across from her, Tetsutetsu was arguing with someone about protein intake.
Beside him, Manga Fukidashi reacted so strongly that comic-style sound effects nearly felt visible around him.
At the far end, Reiko Yanagi floated her utensils slightly above the tray for no reason other than convenience.
Y/N watched them all with quiet surprise.
There was familiarity here. Shared history. The kind built through training, danger, and surviving difficult months together.
She was new to it. Yet no one made her feel outside of it.
"How are you finding Japan so far?" Pony asked.
"It's busy," Y/N answered. "And organized."
"That means she has not seen our dorm kitchen after training days," Juzo remarked.
"It was one time," someone argued.
"It was seven," Juzo corrected.
Y/N laughed softly before she could stop herself.
The sound drew brief glances from the table. Then the conversation continued.
Across from her, Monoma was staring. Not rudely. More like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
When their eyes met, he looked away first and immediately spoke louder to someone else.
"Obviously Class 2-B remains the hidden pillar of U.A.'s success," Monoma announced.
"No one asked," Kendo replied.
⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎
Afternoon classes were easier.
The rhythm of lectures, note-taking, and practical discussions felt familiar no matter the country. Hero law had some differences. Rescue procedures had changed after the war. Security protocol had become stricter.
Before the final bell, Vlad made one last announcement regarding student housing.
"As you know," he began, "Heights Alliance remains open for students who choose to stay on campus. Some of you still live there full-time. Some of you return home now that conditions are stable. Continue reporting schedule changes properly."
A few students nodded.
"The transfer student has also been given access to dorm housing if needed," Vlad added, glancing toward Y/N. "Until then, her off-campus address is on file."
Several curious eyes turned to her. Y/N simply nodded.
Living at Heights Alliance would have been easier. Meals nearby. Friends nearby. Security nearby.
But after two years of waiting, paperwork, and having every step of her future decided by offices and signatures, she wanted one thing that belonged only to her.
Space.
A place where silence was possible. A place where she could use her quirk privately when necessary. And if she was honest, living in a dorm full of hero students on her first week sounded exhausting.
By the final bell, her nerves had faded into simple tiredness.
As students packed their bags, Kendo approached her desk.
"A few of us usually study together after class sometimes," Kendo explained. "No pressure, but you're welcome to join whenever you want."
"That's kind of you," Y/N responded.
"It's practical," Kendo corrected. "If Monoma corners you alone, witnesses are useful."
"I heard that!" Monoma protested.
"You were meant to," Kendo shot back.
Y/N smiled. "I'd like that," she said.
"Good." Kendo gave a short nod and moved on to stop Tetsutetsu from challenging a vending machine.
Y/N packed slowly. Around her, students filtered out in groups. A few mentioned heading back to Heights Alliance together. Others talked about trains and meeting family for dinner.
Then a shadow fell across her desk.
She looked up.
Monoma stood there with his bag over one shoulder, expression sharp and unreadable.
"Your quirk," he began.
"Hello to you too," Y/N replied.
"I am choosing to ignore that," Monoma said. "Your quirk is unusual."
"So I've been told."
"You should know that unusual quirks attract attention here."
"From teachers?" she asked.
"From competitors." He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Such as myself."
Y/N waited.
He seemed disappointed she was not reacting properly.
Finally, he continued. "I will uncover the truth of this 'Second Hand' ability."
"That sounds threatening," she said.
"It is professional curiosity," he insisted.
"It sounds exhausting," she responded.
Monoma clicked his tongue.
"You are very calm for someone entering a battlefield."
"This is a classroom," she reminded him.
"For now."
He turned sharply and walked away with the energy of someone exiting a stage.
Halfway to the door, he paused.
Without facing her, he said quieter this time— "Welcome to U.A."
Then he left.
Y/N stared after him.
Strange boy.
⏱︎ ⏱︎ ⏱︎
The walk home was calmer than the morning.
The city lights had begun to turn on one by one. Shops glowed warm against the evening street. Somewhere nearby, someone was practicing guitar badly.
Y/N unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside.
Silence greeted her.
She set down her bag, removed her shoes, and loosened her tie. Then she crossed to the small table by the window. The silver pocket watch waited where she had left it.
For a long moment, she only looked at it. Then she picked it up. The metal felt cool in her palm. Heavy. Familiar. The second hand inside ticked steadily when she opened it.
One step at a time. She thought of the classroom.
Of Pony's warmth.
Kendo's steadiness.
Juzo's dry humor.
Tetsutetsu's impossible sincerity.
And Monoma Neito, loud, dramatic, observant.
More observant than he wanted people to notice.
Y/N closed the watch gently. Today had gone better than expected. Much better.
Still, something in the pit of her stomach remained unsettled. As if time itself were holding its breath. She placed the watch back on the table and turned off the light. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
