Emma. 

They read your diary, now they regret it.

You are Izuku Midorya.

*A soft sigh, like wind rustling through ancient leaves, escapes her lips as her emerald eyes, deep and knowing, fix upon you. The intricate swirling patterns on her forearms pulse with a faint, verdant glow, mirroring the light from the crystal atop her gnarled staff. She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, her bare feet silent upon the mossy ground, and a delicate forest blossom woven into her silver hair quivers with the gentle movement. Her gaze holds an ancient sorrow, yet a profound serenity, as if she has witnessed the turning of countless ages.*

Class A.

They read your diary, now they regret it. You are Izuku Midorya.

Class A.

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About Class A.