Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Principle Nezu sat at the head of the confrence room table and watched as the rest of UA's staff took their own seats at various positions around the expanse of the large, U-shaped amalgamation of desks. Some teachers took a bit longer to get situated than others-- Aizawa slumps into his chair, exhaustion forever present on his features as his loud-mouthed soulmate seems to make it his mission to plop into his seat as noisily as possible. Though, as far Nezu's concerned, the word "quiet" didn't seem to be in Yamada's vocabulary save for when he was screaming it out at the top of his lungs.

Eventually, though, everyone in the room has taken their seats and the principle could begin.

"Thank you all for coming," the rodent starts. "I'm sure with the recent school season over and out of the way that most of you would rather be at home relaxing with your loved ones, but as someone wise once said, 'the work of a teacher is never done'."

Present Mic tilts his head curiously. "Huh, that totally sounds like something you would say."

Nezu only smiles. "My point exactly. Now--"

With a clap of the principle's (teeny) paws, the lights of the conference room shut off and an image of a certain lavender-haired boy is projected onto the wall at the very back of the room.

"Onto our agenda." Nezu gestures to the projection before him. "Some of you may recognize this boy as Hitoshi Shinsou, a student with a remarkable brainwashing ability. He was previously enrolled in our school's General Studies Course, but after showcasing some incredible determination and tenacity, he will be rightfully joining the Hero Course for his second year here at UA. This, however, brings us to our current dilemma."

With another clap of his (fuzzy-wuzzy) paws, the image on the wall changes to display a simple T-chart. 2-A was written in red, the number 20 sat just underneath while the other side of the chart displayed a 21, 2-B written above in a contrasting blue.

Nezu carries on with his speech. "As you can see, there's an imbalance in the numbers. An uneven number of students could cause problems further down the line." The principle folds his paws together (rather cutely), smiling as he looks at no one in particular. "Not to mention the possible power imbalance that could be brought about."

At that, almost everyone in the room glances at Vlad with various levels of subtlety.

Or in All Might's case, worriedly whispers, "I think they're talking about you" to the other homeroom teacher.

Bless that poor stick of a man.

Vlad, of course, only made a gruff noise of acknowledgment, his burly arms crossed before him. "I have no idea what you mean."

Meanwhile, Aizawa narrowed his eyes at the other teacher in scrutiny. "Why is the brat being added to your class and not mine? As I remember it, I'm the one who took the time to train him."

"Well, the boy's got tremendous talent," Vlad said, head raised high, eyes closed and shrugging like it was no big deal. "It only makes sense that he'd join my students. He'd fit right in."

"Don't tell me your feeling jealous, Erasure," Midnight crooned, a finger resting against her cheek as she leved her colleague with a playful look. "How cute!"

"I'm not jealous," the tired man lied gruffly denied. He was fooling no one, though, and slumped further into his chair, grumbling about "getting this meeting over with" as his loud-mouthed husband reached over and pat his back in an act of comfort.

"Hey, don't sweat it Kitten--"

"I told you not to call me that in public."

"Oh, haha, oops--"

"Regardless of which class young Shinsou were to join," Nezu interrupted, the rest of the school staff going silent as the principle once again steered the conversation in the right direction, "we would still be left with an odd number of students to split up between the two classes. Unless, of course, we were able to find another suitable addition to the Hero Course."

Snipe turned his masked face away from the projection on the wall to gaze at the principle instead. "I reckon that's what we're here to talk 'bout then?"

"Indeed." A clap of the rodent's (bean-toed) paws causes the projected image to change once more, the school staff now greeted with the sight of a graph chart. Nezu gestured to the chart where both the logos of UA and Shiketsu High were ranked very high on the graph, the logos of a few other hero schools ranked behind the two in a downwards cresendo. "As you can see, both Shiketsu as well as our own school are ranked incredibly high in terms of acedemic curriculum and the prospering of future heros. Both schools are considered to be the best in our country in equal measure."

Mic coughed, "debatable."

He was immediately shut up by his dark-haired companion's binding cloth.

Nezu paid no mind to the interruption and contrinued. "Unfortunately, our rival school doesn't seem to have any students to spare, and in all honesty I doubt they would be too keen on lending us any to begin with. This, of course, leaves us in a bit of a pickle if you take into account the chart you see here— thrown together by our very own Ectoplasm, might I add. Very well done."

The spooky hero in question only nods to his fellow staff memebers as they take a moment to applaude his work.

"WHOA! MATH!"

"Exemplary work."

"To use your skills to create such a display... How invigorating!"

To his credit, Ectoplasm accepted the praise with grace, though he couldn't help but feel a bit sad.

If only his students would react the same way whenever he made them graphs...

Once the commotion settled down, Nezu once again took charge of the conversation. "But back to the matter at hand."

"If we're looking to add another brat to my class," Aizawa grumbled, "then we're going to have to be very critical about who we choose. My students aren't just any ordinary trouble children."

"You're right," All Might agreed, his brows furrowed in thought. "Taking into account 1-A's—"

"2-A, as they'll soon be," Cementos reminded.

"Right, right. Taking into account 2-A's current, uh... expirience, any candidates we consider would have to measure up as well."

With a wide grin, Mic shot his fellow blonde some finger guns. "Totally! We ought to give the little listeners someone who can keep up with them! It's only fair!"

"True," Thirteen agreed, "but I think that might be pretty hard to do now that Shiketsu's out of the picture." They turned towards the chart projected on the wall. Anybody looking at the image would be able to see just how large of a gap there was between the top two hero schools and the other contenders. "It doesn't exactly give us a whole lot to work with."

The room went quiet, the space-themed hero's words ringing true. The fact that UA was such a righ-ranking school, as well as the fact that the students of soon-to-be 2-A were just on another level entirely, left the task of finding a suitable new student to add into the fray a real challenge for anyone involved.

"Are foriegn candidates off the table by any chance?"

All heads turned to All Might, causing the retired pro to backtrack at the sudden attention. "Uh, well, I just thought that if we couldn't find someone suitable within our own country, it might not hurt to try looking elsewhere..."

Nezu tapped a paw against his (fluffy) chin thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose that could work." The principle turned his attention towards Vlad and asked, "Two of your students are foriegners if I recall correctly, yes?"

"Oh yeah!" Mic piped up. "Horse Girl and Lizard Boy!"

"Pony Tsunotori and Hiryu Rin," Vlad corrected, sending the boistrous blonde an unimpressed look before turning to his rodent superior. "One American and the other Chinese— though I'll say that Pony's Japanese still has room for improvement."

"But she and her classmate perform well in your class, do they not?" Nezu questioned.

"Of course." With his chin tilted upwards and his chest slightly puffed out, Vlad looked like a proud father boasting about the accomplishments of his children.

Which, to be honest, was about as accurate of a description as they came.

"I think this should go without saying, but if we're really planning on making an addition to the Hero Course, foriegner or not, then we should do so with extreme caution." All heads turned to Power Loader, the bite-sized man holding up a metal-tipped finger matter of factly. "Choosing the wrong candidate could result in a waste of not only our time, but our school's resources too."

Midnight tapped a finger against her chin, humming softly. "Yes, I agree. A dilema such as this should only be handled with the utmost delicacy— like one would a lover."

"Power Loader does make an excellent point," Nezu agreed with a nod. He went silent for a moment before smiling towards the rest of his staff, seeming to come to a conclusion. "Very well then. I shall begin putting together a list of suitable candidate as soon as possible. If I'm unable to find someone fitting our needs, then I'll take All Might's suggestion and look overseas."

At the mention of his name, the skinny blonde nodded in acknowledgement, happy to have contributed.

With one last clap of his (squishable) paws, the lights in the room blinked back to life and the projector was shut down. "Thank you all for coming. Please feel free to return home and enjoy the rest of your evening."

As the school staff made their way out of their seats and out the door, the small rodent spoke up over the small commotion to make one last announcement.

"Oh, and please remember to attend our next meeting two weeks from now in order to discuss our school's budget plan--"

A caphony of quiet groans rumbles from the group of adults.

"Where our very own Ectoplasm will grace us with his own PowerPoint presentation as well as his famous blackberry cobbler."

The groans swiftly transformed into cheers.

"HELL YEAH, FREE FOOD!"

"Well cover me in butter and call me a biscut."

"Actually, I'm allergic--"

It isn't until two weeks later that Nezu gets the call, sitting at his desk well into the evening and looking through the various profiles of likely student candidates with one paw (the other sticky and stained a deep purple). He's just about to take another bite of his cobbler when the phone on his desk rings and he picks it up.

"Mr. Gang Orca," the small rodent greets through the line, his (equally stained) mouth stretched into a pleasant smile. "What a surprise! I wasn't expecting to hear from you anytime soon. How may I help you?"

"I heard about your little problem," a gruff voice says. "You're still searching for a good fit, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. I haven't had much luck, unfortunately."

"I think I might be able to help out with that."

Nezu blinked, silent for a moment.He was just in the process of licking cobbler entrails off his paw, his tongue frozen mid blep. 

The very image of educational dicipline.

"Hmm..." the rodent hummed, thoughtful. "What did you have in mind?"

Chapter Text

THUNK..

THUNK...

THUNK...

When your mom had approached you all those months ago and suggested transfering schools, you'd been pretty hesitant at first. You had friends, and a life, and a froyo shop gift card that you were 90% sure was non-transferable when traveling to another country— if that country even HAD froyo. You were basically set for life. Why would you wanna leave that all behind?

But then that whole thing with your family happened. Or more accurately, it blew up. People at school began looking your way whenever you passed them in the halls, exchanging whispers when they thought you couldn't hear. The endless array of tabloids you'd seen clutched in the grips of wine aunts and soccer moms alike, the front cover always advertising the same thing. News channels had never been your favorite but nowadays you avoided them like the plague (and also geese).

It seemed like all anyone ever wanted to talk about these days was your family.

You were never a fan of people who couldn't mind their own business. It definitely didn't help that you lived un the good ol' U.S. of A— otherwise known as Publicity Central.

So, after giving it a lot of thought, you eventually agreed to your mom's suggestion. You were down with the idea of some time away from all the family drama and high expectations, and before you knew it you'd been registered to attend one of Japan's top hero academies for your second year.

Which is probably how you found yourself sat in the middle seat of an international flight, heading overseas to some foriegn country you'd only ever visited a few times with your uncle, and the beginnings of a migrain brewing behind your temple as—

THUNK

...Child violence probably wasn't the best topic to have on the brain while thousands of miles up in the air, but to be fair the kid sitting behind you was making it real hard to think about anything else.

From the corner of your eye you could see the elderly man in the seat beside you send a sympathetic look your way, but you didn't dare turn you gaze towards him to assure him you were fine. There was nothing wrong with him or anything, hell no. You'd bet good money that he was the type of grandpa to spend his Sunday afternoons feeding birds at the park. It's just...

He had the window seat.

And you did not NEED and/or WANT a visual reminder of just how high above the clouds you were, thank you very much.

There's a buzz from your phone, and you pull the device up from your lap, happy for the distractio—

Oh, nope, it's just your little brother being a little shit. Again.

booger: you ther yet

booger: you t here yet

booger: oyu the ere yety

booger: yuo there uyet

booger: you tehre yet

You give the little notifiaction on your phone's lockscreen a flat look, hoping to convey just how utterly unimpressed you were through the electromangnetic wav—

booger: yothe rey et

God damnit.

You: Holy shit just enable autocorrect already I swear to god

booger: you caant do that

booger: bibkle says so

You: What

booger: yknow like christanty

booger: jesus. guy witj chanclas

You: Ok first off: shut up

You: Second off: quit spamming me. I'm trying very hard not to throw some random kid off the plane and your not helping

booger: lmao wath tjat kid do to you 

booger: also *you're

You: Bitch??

You: You literallly have no place correcting my spelling???

You: Hello?????

booger: not my faukt

booger: i tyepe fas

You: Stop. Your gonna give me an aneurysm

booger: *you're

You: Ok do you actually have something important to tell me or are you just being annoying

booger: i jus wanna know if yur therre yet

You: I took off like three hours ago and japan is basically a whole ocean away

You: What do you think

booger lmao

You keep your eyes trained on the screen for a few moments, breathing out a relieved sigh of when there's no indication that your brother planned on continuing the conversa—

booger: you therer yert

you: I'm blocking you

You hit send and, before switching your phone off, quickly click into your contacts and navigate over to the culprit's icon. The Block Contact button immediately drawing your attention and— OH, whoops, looks like your finger slipped, silly you.

Slipping your phone into your hoodie pocket with a satisfied smirk, you relax back into your seat. Hopefully your quick thinking would deter that little shit from being any more of a pain in the—

THUNK

Your body goes rigid and you still, your mouth slipping into a thin line. You let out a long, quiet breath through your nose as your eyes slip shut.

Right. You'd almost forgotten about the OTHER little shit.

Welp, you thought, your hands plopping themselves onto the armrests of your seat as you prepare yourself, already got rid of the first one, might as well take care of the other.

Besides obviously being useful in the line of hero work, apparently the strength within your forearms (earned thanks to the rigerous workouts dished out by both your school and own mother) also came in handy when confronting pesky little devil spawn. You had no trouble lifting your body from your seat and spinning yourself around till your legs were tucked underneath you. Now facing the row behind you, arms resting upon the backrest of your chair as your upper body leaned over the seat, you immediately spot the culprit. And just in time too. From the looks of it, she's gearing up for another kick, knees tucked close to her chest. The little girl halts before she can launch another attack to your poor chair, her eyes widening in surprise when she spots you. You level her slouched figure with an unimpressed look.

A quick scan of the seats either side of her reveal an empty spot to her left, and to her right, a similair-looking man (probably her dad). Despite the fact that he's sound asleep, it's easy to see the bags under his eyes and worry lines etched into the skin of his face.

You return your attention to the kid, who still appears to be caught off-guard by your sudden appearence.

"Hey little buddy," you say softly, careful not to stir the sleeping man beside the girl. "You mind doing me a favor and not kicking my seat? I'm trying to relax..."

The girl only blinks at you, confusion beginning to stain her features.

Oh, right. You're on an international flight. Now that you think about it, she and her father DO look like they're native to Japan, their features distinct enough for you to recognize.

In lamens terms: they looked pretty damn Asian.

Luckily, even though it's been years since you last visited the country, you'd been practising with your uncle and cousin in the months leading up to your transfer. Nowadays, slipping into the other language was something you were able to do with relative ease.

"Please stop kicking my seat," you repeat politely, an easy-going smile stretching across your lips in an attempt to dispel any tension in the air.

Unfortunately, despite the initail relief that floods her eyes once your previous jibberish was made clear to her, the girl only sends you a defiant glare from under her furrowed brow. You're own brows lift slightly when the girl's legs curl even further towards herself, the underside of her shoes facing directly at the back of your seat.

The threat is clear as day.

Your eyes narrow (though you will admit, you admired the kid's rebelliousness), and silence stretches through the air as the two of you come to a stalemate.

You're accutely aware of the eyes that seemed to have zeroed in on the interaction— which, fair, the plane had been pretty quiet up until you decided to confront the little shit seated behind you. Plus, the kid hadn't exactly been subtle about her terrorization. No doubt there were at least a couple other passengers who'd grown tired of the constant thunk-thunk-thunking— but you pay their stares no mind. This wasn't about them.

This was between you and the girl.

You purse your lips, your Hostage Situation Training kicking in (the hostage in this case being your sanity). You were pretty sure using martial arts to incapacitating someone's kid was considered "assualt" and also "child abuse", so you settled for your next option.

Negotiation.

You eye the bracelets lining the girl's arms. Some Kandi, others made of bands and even woven together, beads and other trinkets litering the pieces of jewelry. Not a single one looked the same to another, though you're keen enough to recognize that each and every one looks hand-made.

Ah, a fellow crafter, eh? You salute her.

Lips still pursed and eyes still narrowed, you turn your head slightly to the side and lift your eyebrows upwards. "If you stop kicking my seat, I'll give you something in return."

This gets the girl's attention. Though she still remains poised to strike, she tilts her head, curious.

"A prize," you reiterate. You jerk your head in the direction of the overhead carriers above where your luggage lay amoung those of the other passengers. "I've got some cool bracelets in my bag from back home. I bet you'd really like them."

The kid only blinks.

"You like bracelets, right?" You gesture to her forarms and the hand-made jewelry lining them. "You've got some pretty cool ones on you, by the way. You make them yourself?"

You already knew the answer, but you smile earnestly all the same when the girl hesitantly nods in agreement, a bit timid. It seemed she didn't take much pride in her craft.

Welp, you were definitely gonna have to change that.

Your smile widens. "Hey, nice! I like to make bracelets too."

Slipping one of your arms away from where they were wrapped around the head of your seat, you roll up the sleeve of your hoodie and lower your arm towards the girl. She looks uncertain, but you give her an encouraging nod and she eventually leans closer to inspect the bracelets resting around your wrist.

You internally give yourself a fist-bump when you spot the girl's eyes widen with wonder, her hand coming up to lightly run over the beads of your jewelry as she inspects them. She's obviously taken an interest in your little crafts despite not being able to decipher the words on each, the letters of the English alphabet probably coming across as some cryptic language.

Probably for the best. You don't know if you had it in you to explain why the word "teeth" happened to be spelled out on one bracelet while the other simply read "soup".

While the girl inspects your jewelry, she glances up at you and nods as if appraising your handiwork. You smile as she continues to fiddle with the decorative pieces around your wrist and say, "Thanks. I think I did a pretty good job on these ones. They're not as good as yours, though, not gonna lie."

She glances down at the trinkets on her arms when you gesture to them. There's a light blush on her cheeks as she gazes up at you once again with a small smile.

"So, how about it? You stop kicking my seat, and I'll let you pick out a bracelet to keep." You shrug, your smile turning lopsided (because haha, you made a rhyme!). "I've got some pretty cool beads with me too, if you'd rather have some of those."

The girl seems to think about your proposal, eyes drifting to the corner of her eye thoughtfully. Then she levels you with a skeptical look. She hasn't uttered a word to you for the entirety of your negotiation, but even so you're able to discern her unspoken question from just the expression on her face.

"Don't worry, I'm not lying. I won't go back on my word," you assure her. Raising your pinky finger up, you make a show of crossing your heart with the digit before holding it out towards the girl in offering. "I promise."

You can't help the grin that overtakes your features as your new comrad links her (much smaller) pinky with yours, your sharp teeth now on display. Your grin grows even wider when the girl smiles back, her own pointed teeth greeting you in return.

You give the girl a small salute. "Until we meet again," you declare, your features schooled into a look of mock seriousness before you swiftly turn back around and manuver yourself into your seat once again. You can't help the pride that swells in your chest when your new friend giggles at your theatrics from her seat behind you.

The whole plane seems to collectively breathe a sigh of relief once it becomes clear the two of you have come to peace with one another. A few people applaud. Someone even lets out a whistle— a LOUD one, too, like they'd just finished watching a stageplay or something.

It's enough for you to send a bemused look to the sleeping business woman beside you, as if to say, "Airplane passengers, am I right?"

Meanwhile, the old man seated on your other side smiles at you from the corner of your vision, nodding like a proud granpa whos grandkid just did something impressive. You turn to him this time, beaming like YOU were the grandkid he was so proud of. You did the impressive thing! That was you!

And then you accidentally look past him, towards the window, and suddenly the old man looked more like a worried granpa who's grandkid jUST FAINTED OH GOD—!

Your flight lands hours later. The sheer relief that floods your viens the moment the plane meets the ground and the rumble of the engine stills was enough to make you slouch heavily in your seat, you body crumpling with an all mighty sigh.

Truth be told, you were god damn exhausted. You'd basically spent a majority of the ride conked out, your head resting against the shoulder of the business woman seated beside you (she'd been rather polite about the whole thing but your could tell she must have been pretty baffled to find some random teenager drooling on her suit jacket). Your sleep would be interrupted every once in a while, however. Whether it be from turbulance, or the crick in your neck, or the guy sat in the row in front of you who apparently hadn't brought headphones and decided the only rational solution left was to watch his K-Drama on full volume.

Dubbed.

Were you happy that Yoon Sae-bom had finally been able to wake up from her coma and accept Jung Yi-hyun's marriage proposal? Yeah, of course, but you would have been even MORE happy to get some decent shut-eye.

Not to mention that sitting in the same chair for several hours with little to no movement had made getting up from your seat a real pain in the ass. Literally. Your backside had never been so sore in your life, and it didn't help that your spine had practically been locked in place, making your posture and stance similar to that of a senior citizen with some serious arthritis.

Speaking of senior citizen— even though your flight expirience had been terrible, you were thankful that you at least had Window Seat Grandpa. He'd been by your side (pun intended) through thick and thin, and you were happy to say that the two of you had become quite the pair of pals. The times you were awake, the both of you were shooting the shit and getting to know each other. You'd mentioned your recent school transfer and were surprised to hear that his grandson, the main reason behind his trip to Japan, happened to go to the same school.

"Hey, maybe I'll see him around," you had remarked, but you both only laughed. You knew the likelihood of that happening was pretty small.

When the time came for the two of you to part ways, the both of you standing together amidst the hustle and bustle of the airport terminal, you couldn't fight the way your shoulders drooped— and not becuase of all the luggage weighing you down. Your sorrow had been obvious to your new friend. Without a word, he had reached into one of his jacket pockets and placed something within your hand, both of his own clasped around yours in a soft, wrinkled grip. Gooodbyes were exchanged, and you glanced down at the gift Window Seat Grandpa had bestowed upon you.

A single hard butterscotch candy sat in your hand.

...Oh my god. He gave you old man candy.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a small perimeter had began to form around your person as the people of the airport terminal did their best to avoid walking too close to you. They had no idea why some random teenager was standing in the middle of the airport, body trembling as they tried their hardest not to cry despite obviously being on the verge of tears. Those who passed you either averted their gaze or stared shamelessly. They felt disturbed, watching as you nuzzled a piece of candy against your cheek like it was your most beloved treasure. 

You looked bat shit insane, and no average law-abiding citizen wanted any part in whatever the hell you were smoking.  

Excluding one person in particular, that is.

"...Am I interrupting something orrrr?"

You snap out of your sentimental reverie, a voice piping up from nearby as you held your Precious close to you. Turning your head slightly, your greeted with the sight of your cousin Leilani standing just a few feet away, hands on her hips as she gave you a look from head to toe. The judgement in her gaze was practically slapping you across the face.

With a huff, you return her critical look with one of your own. "Umm, actually, you ARE interrupting something? Do you mind?"

A roll of the eyes is all the warning you get before your cousin strolls over to you and flicks your nose. Then, while your busy clutching the abused spot in pain (your nose was a pretty sensitive spot), the young woman swooped in and snatched your Precious right out of your hand.

"Hey!" You attempt to grab the small treat back from your traitorous relative. Unfortunately, she was not only taller but had plenty of past expirience playing keep away with you, the years you two spent growing up together having honed her skills in the art of douchery.

Cousin Lani smiles as she watches you hop and stand on your tiptoes. The two of you hadn't seen each other in a few years, not since she moved to Japan for her career. Don't get her wrong, she was overjoyed to see you again after all these years, but she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to tease the hell out of you.

She smiles, puting on a face of faux innocence. "Oh, my bad. Were you gonna eat this?"

"What? No!"

"Oh, well can I have it then?"

"Again— NO!"

"C'mon, somebody's gotta eat this," the woman rationalized. You felt your gut dip with dread as her mouth split into a shit-eating grin, sharp pearly whites shinning with mischief as she slowly began edging your butterscotch towards her mouth. "And if you're not gonna do it, then I guess I might as well—"

Oh HELL no.

Lani had years of expirience playing keeping away from you, that much was true. Luckily, that meant you had just as much expirience pinpointing her weak spots.

With practiced speed, you lean back from your tiptoes and raise one leg off the ground, twisting your body and using the momentum to send your foot rocketing towards your cousin's shins—

"SHIT!"

A few people nearby startle at your sudden shout of pain. Heads turn to where a random teen was crumpled on the floor, clutching their foot in agony as a nearby woman cackled evily in triumph, her upper body thrown back in a pose that looked oddly familiar. Bizarre, some would even say.

The whole scene was strange, even drawing the attention of a few nearby airport security guards.

"Should we do something?" One asked.

"Probably," the other replied.

"..."

"..."

"If they fight, bet my husband's bento that the smaller one wins."

"You're on."

Meanwhile, you gazed up at Lani from your spot on the floor as she leaned down towards you, the epitome off smugness. A cheshire grin across her lips, she jeered, "How do you like my new boots, bitch?"

You glanced down at her footwear and promptly scowl at what you see. You'd heard of steel-toed shoes before, but holy shit— "What the actual fuck are those?"

Your cousin only beams proudly, practically preening at your (rightfully horrified) curiosity. "These," she declared as she gestured to where her feet were practically encased in metal, "are my brand new kicks. You like 'em? Saw them at the store the other day and just knew I had to have them! They were on sale, too, can you believe that?"

"What a steal," you repley flatly.

Your cousin helps you up to your feet, laughing all the way, and hands you back your butterscotch. You don't even have time to utter a "thanks" before you're pulled into a spine-cracking hug, your older relative's toned arms lifting you into the air with relative ease despite the backpack and duffle bag you had slung on you.

"It's good to see you again," your cousin says softly, and your heart warms at the genuine tone. You would gladly return the sentiment, but, well—

"I can't breath," you wheeze.

"Oh, my bad."

You're set back down on your feet beside your suitcase and huff as your relative releases you to ruffle your hair instead.

"Breaking news: You're an asshole," you state with no real bite, a grin on your face.

"Old news, more like." Lani bumps her hip against yours playfully as she strolls past you, grabbing your suitcase on the way (from across the room, a pair of airport security guards sag dejectedly when it became clear a brawl wasn't about to go down).

Lani hums curiously. "What I DO wanna know is why you got so bent out of shape over a piece of candy."

You stumble after your cousin as she begins her way towards the escalators, pocketing the aformentioned treat into your hoodie pouch. "You'd get bent out of shape too if someone just came up to you and swiped your gift right outta your hands."

Your relative whistles, tilting her head to give you a sly look. "Oooooh. A gift, huh? Who from?"

"Someone special," you say, content as you think back to your old (haha) friend.

Your cousin halts her stride, and you're surprised when she quickly whips her whole body around to face you. You feel concerned, but Lani doesn't even seem to consider the possible whiplash she may have expirienced. She only gives you a stunned look, her eyebrows nearly at her hairline.

Lani blinks, slowly, and asks in a soft voice, "...Soulmate?"

You only response to that is an unimpressed look.

Your cousin lets out a relieved breath, a small laugh leaving her lips as she shakes her head. "Oh jeez, haha! For a second there I thought the reason you didn't want me taking that butterscotch was actually important! I was about to feel bad!"

"Asshole."

She waves away your insult with flap of her hand. "Yeah, yeah— been there, done that, blah blah blah. Let's just get to my place already, yeah? I wanna show you that one take-out place I mentioned—"

"Wait," you interupt, stopping Lani when she moves to continue her trek through the airport. She's confused, even more so when you start actively searching the large, crowded expanse of the airport terminal, your body rotating in a slow circle as you survey the room. "We can't go yet."

"What, you gonna ask your buddy for another butterscotch?" Lani snorts. "You haven't even eaten the first one, now you need another fix?"

You roll your eyes. "First off: it's candy, okay, not DRUGS. Second off: this is important, shut up."

Your cousin sighs, defeated, and chooses not to fight your sudden stubborness. The two of you had already attracted enough attention when you lost the battle against her superior footwear, she wasn't about get into an actual argument and give airport security an actual reason to boot you both to the curb.

"Alright fine," she relents, and soon you have another pair of eyes scanning the crowd. "Who're we looking for?"

"Little girl, lots of bracelets on her arms."

"Okay, what's she look like?"

"Asian."

From within one of Japan's largest and most populated airports, your cousin sent you an unimpressed look. "Oh thanks, that really narrows it down."

You're mouth opens, ready to tell the woman beside you to kindly shut the hell up, when you feel a sudden tug at your pants. You glance downwards towards the space beside you and immediatly smile.

"Little Buddy! There you are!"

Your once-enemy-now-bracelet-crafting-comrad-in-arms greets your pointy grin with one of her own. Despite not understanding what you said, she still waves at you excitedly with one hand as the other gripped the strap of her strawberry-themed backpack. She glanced over at your cousin, curious.

You answer her unspoken question. Switching languages, you jab your thumb towards Lani. "My butler."

The girl's eyes widen in surprise.

"Yeah, I know. It's pretty cool," you playfully brag. You then lean closer to your little buddy in a conspiratorial manner, gaze flickering towards the woman beside you with judgement glinting in your eyes. You mumble, "She's not very good at her job, though. 2/10, would not recommend."

"I'm standing right here."

You and your friend snicker together as your butl— uh, cousin rolls her eyes. She smacks the back of your head, ignoring your cry of pain as she kneels down and gives the younger girl a friendly smile. "Hey, honey, what are you doing here all by yourself? Do you have a parent or grown up who's supposed to be with you?"

As you attempt to rub away the stinging sensation flaring across the back of your scalp, you scan the area, confusion and concern beginning to swirl in your gut. You sure hoped your little buddy hadn't been wandering around the airport on her own. That was just a bad situation waiting to happen.

"Hey, yeah," you pipe up, "where's you're—"

"Akane!"

"Oh nevermind, there he is."

Sure enough, as if summoned by the mere mention of his existance, you spot a familair man quickly making his way over to the three of you. You watched, impressed as he easily manuvered his way through the crowd despite the two suitcases he dragged along with him. He looked even more sleep deprived now that he was actually awake. The dark bags hanging under his eyes stood out against his skin, and you cringed to think of any possible jet lag the man must be experiencing. 

...Someone really ought to get that man some coffee or something.

"So sorry," he apologizes the moment he's near, bowing down politely. "She not mean to bozzer."

His accent is obvious, and your cousin smiles at the man in an attempt to soothe the clearly frazzled father. "It's alright, don't worry. We're just glad you're here. We didn't know if she had an adult with her or not."

The man sagged with relief, glad that he wouldn't have to continue speaking in a foriegn language but also for the fact that you two hadn't seemed to mind his daughter's abrupt appearence.

"Yes, I'm glad too. Still, I wish she hadn't run off like that. I could do without the sudden heart attack," he admitted. He sent an admonishing look towards his daughter, who had suddenly taken an intense interest in the airport's tiled floor.

The man sighs in exasperation, though the fondness of it is clear. He returned his attention towards you and Lani, a sheepish smile on his face. "I suppose I can't really blame her for being excited. I will say, though, that I was confused when she insisted that she meet up with you before we left..."

The wariness in his tone doesn't fly over your head and you quickly explain, "Yeah, we met on the plane earlier. I was sitting in the row in front of you guys, and she seemed bored so I thought I'd keep her company. Sorry about that."

If you'd purposefully left out the whole kicking-your-seat thing, then... whoops.

"Ah, I see." The man smiles at you, the slight tension in his shoulders dispersing once he deemed you weren't a threat. "Well, I hope she didn't cause you too much trouble. My Akane can be a little... difficult to get along with at first."

The young girl narrows her eyes at her dad, pouting. 

"Nah, don't worry. We, uh... figured something out," you chuckle, sending your younger friend a subtle wink. She perked up and returned the gesture with a grateful smile. You turn back to her father, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the backpack strapped onto you. "I actually promised her a bracelet, if that's okay?"

"Oh?" The man's brows raise in surprise and he turns to his daughter, the girl's hands clasped together in a pleading manner as she fixed her father with some impressive puppy eyes. He relents, no real surpise there. "Well, alright then. If you really don't mind, then I'm sure Akane would love that."

You give the man a grin and a thumbs up. "Cool, thanks!"

"In the meantime," your cousin intergects, "why don't we all head down to the groundfloor and grab something from the foodcourt? I'm sure after such a long flight you and your daughter must be hungry."

The woman leans closer to your little buddy's father as she speaks, her hand resting upon the man's upper back as her lips curled coyly. Her tone was smooth, and her eyes glimmered with an all too familiar look. You internally faceplant in disappointment.

Damnit Lani, inner-you sighs, it hasn't even been five minutes.

"Um, I thought you said we were getting takeout—"

"Takeout is overrated." Your cousin doesn't even spare you a glance.

You groan. Akane glances up at you, confused, but you only pat the poor girl's head. Oh, the innocence of youth.

Akane's father seems taken aback by the offer, and your cousin's close proximity to the man only seems to fluster him further. "Oh, no, that's quite alright! I'm sure you two have places to be and we wouldn't want to take up any more of your time—"

"Nonesense, honey, I insist," Lani assures. She whips out a credit card from the back pocket of her jeans, holding the piece of plastic between her fingers as she tilts her head suggestively. "And don't worry you're pretty head about expenses, all right? It'll be my treat." 

The other adult hesitates, but an eager nod from his daughter is enough for him to relent.

Your cousin is overjoyed, leaning even closer to the man and grinning like the cat who caught the canary. Using the hand on the man's back, she then ushers him towards the exit of the terminal, you and Akane following behind. The woman talks up a storm, asking questions and flirting easily as if it were a second language. You feel pity for Akane's father. Lani was a flirt by nature, and you'd known her long enough to know just how overwhelmed she could make her victims. Unfortunately for Akane's father, if you had to choose between saving him from his cruel fate or distracting his daughter long enough she wouldn't ask why you're relative was getting a little more-than-friendly with her dad, well...

You thank him for his sacrifice.

The poor man only gets a break when the four of you finally reach the escalators. He helps his daughter onto the moving steps, holding her hand to support the girl as she takes a nervous step onto the contraption. You and your cousin hang back, only getting on once the small family is a few steps away.

The escalator moves downwards at a liesurely place, and you make sure your buddy and her father are out of earshot before fixing your cousin with a stern but pleading look. "For the love of god, PLEASE stop coming onto her dad, I'm literally begging you."

The woman only shrugs as she continues to shamelessly check out the man a few steps beneath her. "I'm just having a little fun."

"He could be MARRIED."

"I didn't see a ring."

"LANI."

"I'm kidding," your cousin cackles as she gives you a shove. She winks at Akane's dad when he turns to check out the ruckus, an amused hum excaping her when the man promptly turns back around, the tips of his ears pink. "Really, though, don't worry about it. It's not like I plan on taking him home."

"Ew."

"At least not without his consent, of course."

"Stop."

"I sure wouldn't mind. I mean, have you seen that ass? Solid 8/10 right there, let me tell ya."

"STOP."

The four of you end up seated at two seperate tables, the adults sitting at one while you and Akane took up residence at the table just beside them. The collective luggage of you and the family of two had been safely tucked away beneath your respective tables, though you'd opted to keep your backpack sat in your lap. It was where you stored your bracelets, beads and other craft supplies.

Akane had spent a fair amount of time perusing through your collection of hand-made jewelry, clearly enjoying herself. She took the time to appreciate each piece she came across, using her hands to thoroughly inspect the texture and feel of all the different beads. Meanwhile, you'd gone ahead and started your latest piece. You had originaly promised her a pre-made one, sure, but you felt like spoiling your new friend. Afterall, it wasn't often that you came across someone who understood your hardships.

Trying to successfully knot nylon string was no joke, especially with sweaty hands. That shit hurt.

The adults of your party of four were immersed in their own conversation. It seemed your cousin had eased up on the flirting, much to the obvious relief of Akane's father (and also you), but she still made time to input a playful remark every now and then.

You pop a piece of sushi in your mouth, concentrating as you chewed. Your cousin had been true to her word and paid for everyone's meal, her suger mommy tendencies really shining through. Pride and satisfaction swelled within you as you finish tying up your newest project, and you use a pair of scissors to snip off any excess string before presenting your creation to your little buddy.

"Tada! What do you think?"

Akane looks up from where she's gathering your crafts back into the small cardboard box you kept them in, and the dramatic gasp she breathes in is enough to make your entire day.

Right on par with Window Seat Granpa giving you old man candy, obviously.

You giggle as the girl immediatly thrusts her wrist out towards you, stars in her eyes. You had let her choose the beads for this bracelet beforehand, wanting your friend to enjoy it as much as possible. You were glad that your hard work had paid off. You happily put the bracelet on Akane's wrist, the wooden beads dully clacking against each other. You found that she liked the texture of those particular kind of beads the most, especially if they had ridges and bumps along them. You also deduced that she liked strawberries, her fruit-themed luggage and strawberry-flavored milkshake being pretty big indicators.

"Hey, it looks great on you!" You compliment as your friend traced her fingers along the small strawberry beads lining her new bracelet. Akane beams at you, head nodding rapidly as she sends you a thumbs up. You swat your hand bashfully, the other hand resting against your cheek as you smile. "Aww, don't mention it. I'm glad you like it."

You glance over to your jewelry box, which had most of its contents returned back inside it. "Oh, did you already choose one of mine to take?"

Akane nods and presents you with the bracelet of her choice. It was actually one you hadn't made yourself. You usually kept your hand-made and store-bought jewelry separate, but sometimes you just couldn't be bothered and your laziness often lead to you finding a few pieces mixed with others. The one your friend chose was something you'd gotten at one of the many tourist shops back in Hawai'i. It was made of dried hemp, the straw woven together intricately to create a sturdy band that could be adjusted to fit around someone's wrist or ankle. The cute, blue foam flowers were the cherry on top.

You help Akane adjust the thing around her other wrist, laughing as the girl then proceeds to bust out a few poses to show off her new jewelry. She tries (and fails) to hold in her own giggles.

"Heeeeeey, lookin' goooooooood," Lani sings playfully from the next table over, and Akane blushes from the sudden attention. Despite her momentary embarassment, though, she's more than happy to let your older relative admire the pieces up close.

Her father chuckles as the two females interact, happy to see his daughter enjoying herself. He turns to you, an appreciative smile across his lips. "Thank you, really. I know Akane's not exactly the easiest person to get along with," he says giving you a knowing look, "so I'm glad that you chose to stick around. It's nice to see her so happy."

Ah... Apparently leaving out the whole kicking-your-seat thing had been useless. He never mentioned anything about it, but he obviously knew you had expirienced some sort of difficulty when you met his daughter.

Damn. His Dad Instincts were on point.

"It's no problem, really," you assure with a grin. "She's a good kid."

"I'm glad you think so." Akane's dad turns to watch his daughter giggle at something your cousin says, and you look on in awe as the content smile on his face seems to soften the hard edges of his tired features.

Huh... yeah, you could kinda understand what your cousin was on about earlier. The man definitely had that DILF factor.

You feel a buzz from your hoodie pouch and reach into it, your hand grasping onto the phone sitting within as you pull it out. You glance at the text notifaction on screen.

booger: are you there yet

You roll your eyes. The sound of shouting momentarily draws your attention away from the screen, and you snort at the sight of your cousin dramatically throwing herself to the floor after "loosing" to Akane in an arm wrestling match, the girl's father cheering her on as she flexes victoriously. Your fingers fly across your phone's keypad, lips quirked in a smile.

You: Safe and sound

...

You: WAIT A DAMN MINUTE

You: THERES NOT A SINGLE TYPO IN THAT ENTIRE SENTENEC HOLY SHIT

booger: *sentence

Chapter Text

It'd been nearly a whole week since you'd arrived at Japan and left the airport. You'd been sad to say goobye to Akane, but your little buddy was even more so regretful to depart. The girl had basically latched onto you with the strength of a child-sized koala. It took a lot of convincing from both you and her father, but eventually she released you from her death grip once you told her you were attending UA. Normally you'd never reveal that kind of information to someone you'd just met hours ago (you'd binged watched enough true crime shows to know better than that), but you had seen the beginnings of tears well up in the girl's eyes and God damnit, not on your watch!

"I've heard that the school has festivals and stuff sometimes," you'd said to the girl, kneeled down to be more at her level as she sniffled pitifully. You attempted to reassure her with a soft smile. "Maybe you can visit me one day! Wouldn't that be cool?"

Akane rubbed the tears out of one eye as she glanced up at you, uncertain.

"Yeah, it'll be fun!" You said. "You and your dad could come over, and I could show off my hero skills, maybe even bench press your dad or something—"

"E-excuse me?" The man himself questioned, eyes wide.

"And I could buy you guys food and even make you another bracelet!" You offered, ignoring the girl's father as he looked at you with a hint of fear. It wasn't everyday that some random teenager casually offered to bench press a grown man like he was a piece of workout equipment, afterall.

He glanced over at your cousin, but the woman only shrugged with a smirk on her face. The man sighed.

Americans.

Your words had been enough to assure your little buddy, and soon you'd found yourself almost tumbling over in your kneeled state as Akane practically threw herself at you for a hug. You can't say you'd ever been put into a headlock by a child before, but damn if the girl didn't have some serious strength in her arms. Thankfully, she eventually loosened her grip around your neck when you returned the embrace.

"I'll see you around, little buddy," you said once the two of you had disengaged from your hug.

Akane watched as you stood up from your kneel, and with determination ablazed within her eyes, she outstretched a single pinky towards you. You grinned at the gesture and crossed your heart with your own pinky before locking the digits together.

"Promise."

Your party of four had gone their seperate ways, Akane and her father heading towards to the airport's front entrance to catch a cab while you and Lani left towards the parking garage. You waved farewell to your little buddy the whole way, only stopping once she'd turned a corner out of sight. You were sad to see her go, but the idea of meeting again was enough to leave a smile on your face for the remainder of the day.

Though you weren't gonna lie, the moment you and Lani had gotten to the garage and sidled up near her "ride", you nearly blew a gasget. Why the woman thought picking you up from the airport on a motorcycle was a good idea, you had no idea. Knowing her, though, she most likely did it just to see the look on your face.

You were right, obviously, but that didn't stop you from nearly popping a vien in irritation.

The two of you eventually figured something out for all your luggage, thank God. It was probably illegal, and you probably broke at least a few traffic violations, but you hadn't cared. You practically begged the woman to, quote, "Floor it, damnit" in the hopes that the two of you wouldn't be pulled over. The last thing you needed days before attending one of Japan's most prestigious hero academies was to get pulled over by the feds. Your mom would probably tear you a new one.

You arrived in Japan just a week before U.A. officially began their school year. Your mom had been pretty insistant about getting you over to the other country as soon as possible in order for you to get yourself situated with the language and customs. Luckily, your cousin Lani had been living there for a few years already and hadn't hesitated to take you in. She'd be acting as your resident guardian during your stay in Japan.

Your family had a tendency to "produce winners", as your uncle once put it. If they weren't heroes, then they were celebrity influencers, or star athletes, or best-selling authors. Your cousin Lani was no different to this particular trend. She'd been trained in the art of boxing under the watchful gaze of your uncle since she was young, mostly for self-defense purposes in the beginning.

"In today's world, there are three essentials needed for survival," your uncle had stated as he started counting down with his fingers. "A social security number, a Netflix subscription, and a nasty right hook."

Your cousin had taken that last point to heart.

Before anyone knew it, she'd climbed up the ranks and won her first heavy-weight boxing championship at just 19. She probably would have made an even bigger name for herself back in America if she hadn't moved, but you could understand why she wanted to go. Your family, as much as they were successful, could be incredibly overbearing— especially to those who would represent their next generation. A fact you knew all too well. Getting away from all the pressure, especially under the guise of wanting to expand the family name overseas, was a blessing in disguise.

"I'll be the first King to make it big in Japan," your cousin had bragged to you all those years ago. "They'll put me down in the family history books for sure, just watch."

"Our family doesn't have history books," you'd pointed out, but Lani had only smirked.

"Not yet they don't."

She'd been good on her word. Now in her mid 20s, you could already see just how high her career had skyrocketed. Partially due to all the things you'd seen and read on the internet, but also because you were certain that nobody would hang a bunch of posters of themselves around their house and NOT be succseeful.

The first time you'd walked into the bathroom of Lani's large apartment, you'd nearly screamed. You knew your cousin could be a bit of an egotist, but what kind of maniac thought willingly hangs a poster of her face advertising an upcoming match RIGHT ABOVE THE TOILET? Your cousin Lani, apparently.

You spent a lot of time google if there were legal ways to disown a cousin after that.

Despite her narcissitic tendencies, the time you had spent with Lani was something you were sure to cherish. Her manager had given her a small break from training due to your arrival, so your cousin had plenty of time to spend getting up to shit with you. Most days the two of you were out and about. She showed you around town, revealing all the cool nooks and crannies the streets had to offer. Food, the movies, shopping— Lani basically spoiled you with it all. She even took you over to the gym to spar with you once, but that had been short-lived. It became clear after some time that she had more important matters to attend to.

Like flirting with some poor lady on a nearby treadmill.

The time you two spent indoors was used for studying. You'd brush up on your kanji and writing skills, as well as read up on all the Hero Safety laws and such (there were bound to be differences when compared to your old country). Your cousin would quiz you on U.A., using flashcards to go through all the different school staff and their duties— both as teachers as well as heros. Lani had offered to do the same with your future classmates, but you'd declined. Mostly because 1) that shit was kinda creepy, and 2) you wanted to be surprised. When all was said in done, you and your cousin would laze on her couch and watch TV, enjoying each other's company while your relative pointed out all the hot local celebrities.

Soon, though, your time spent with Lani had to come to an end. U.A. would start up in a few days, and you were required to be there in advance in order to unpack your things and set up your dorm. Your luggage was now packed and waiting near the door, and though you were nervous, you were at least thankful for the fact that your cousin lived only a few hours away from your new school and would be able to visit every so often. She was your little taste of home, after all.

Little did you know, your cousin had planned a bit of a farewell party for you. You definitely could have done without her custom wake-up call (read: banging two pots right next to your ear), but all was forgiven once you saw that she'd prepared your favorite breakfast dish that morning. She'd obviously put a lot of work into the dish, and the gesture was enough to nearly put you to tears.

That is until the woman revealed the "present" she'd gotten you.

"Lani... What the hell?"

Your cousin raises an eyebrow at you, confused. She was currently doing jazz hands at the gift she'd gotten you, though the enthusiasm dimmed a bit at your horrified expression. "What do you mean?"

You gesture agrressively towards the shoe box sat on the table before you and ask, "What. The hell. Are—"

"THOSE!" Lani finishes for you, a wide grin on her face. She cackles, the sparkle in her eyes giving away just how proud of herself she was for finishing your (unintentional) refrence.

The flat look you give her in return was enough to show that you weren't as impressed.

Your cousin pouts, hild tilting like a puppy. "What, you don't like 'em?"

You glare down at the shoe box on the table. Metal glints back at you from within the box, almost as if to mock you, and you promptly scowl at your cousin angrily. "Don't act innocent, you asshole, I know you got these just to mess with me!"

Lani chooses not to give you any satisfaction, instead gasping dramatically as a hand flies up to grasp at her heart, face twisted into a look of hurt. "How dare you! I got those for you because I care about your well being, I'll have you know!"

"Damnit, Lani," you start, pinching the bridge of your nose, "these things look like they're made of titanium. And they probably weigh as much too!"

"Exactly! It's good leg excercise, take it from me."

"How the hell am I supposed to wear these? When am I supposed to wear these? WHY am I supposed to wear these?!"

Your cousin gives you a disaproving look, hands on her hips like a mother who's child was throwing a tantrum. "So, what, you aren't even gonna try them on? Damn, and to think I was excited about the two of us twinning."

You grumble, sending a distastful glance at the boots Lani had gotten you. They were the exact same make and model as the very ones your cousin owned, the only difference being that they were in your size. Unpleasant memories of your first encounter with the boots flood within your mind, and you grimace. Normally when you recieved gifts that you were less than happy about, you would just accepted them for the sake of being polite. These boots, however...

They just rubbed you the wrong way. Probably because looking at them made your foot throb with phantom pains.

"Fiiiine," you eventually sigh, pulling the shoe box towards you with a dramatic, drawn-out groan. If you were gonna accept the damn boots then you were gonna be a real pain in the ass about it. "I guess I'll take them. Thanks or whatever. Ughhhh—"

Your sassiness earns you a smack upside the head (your cousin had gotten pretty fond of the gesture, much to your dismay). Lani smiles, happy as she watches you go to lift the shoe box from its spot on the table. Though she'd never admit it aloud, the woman was glad you'd accepted her present despite clearly hating it. She'd gotten it largely for the shits and giggles, sure, but she also wanted you to have something to remember her by. The two of you probably wouldn't see each other face-to-face again for a while, not with your hero work and her boxing career getting in the way. It's been so long since she last saw someone from her family.

...She was definitely going to miss you.

Even if you had stopped her from getting ass every time you two went out.

"DAMNIT LANI!"

Your cousin's cackles fill the air of the woman's dining room as you practically take a swan dive towards the floor, the shoe box in your hands weighing you down. Apparently you'd been right about the boots being heavy.

The ride to UA is relatively smooth.

Your cousin had thankfully chosen to spare you another migrain and drove you in her car, your luggage now resting easy in the back trunk of the vehicle and keeping the two of you safe from traffic violations. It's relatively quiet inside the car aside from the tunes flowing from the radio. Not that either of you minded the silence, really. Lani had left you to your own devices after seeing the pensive look on your face, eyes solemn as you gazed out the passenger seat window, and she soon left you to your own devices. She figured you were going through some New School Jitters.

In reality, though, a depressing love ballad had come onto the radio and you were just trying to imagine yourself into a sad music video.

Not to say that your cousin was entirely wrong in her assumption. There had definitely been a sense of nervousness brewing within your gut the moment you got in the car, but luckily it wasn't anything too drastic. Just some concerns, a few what ifs— nothing you couldn't handle. You were sure your classmates and teachers would like you, and that you wouldn't make any long-lasting enemies, and that nobody would ask what your opinion on country music was just because you were American.

...Okay, maybe you were a little concerned about that last one but you'd cross that bridge when you got to it.

From your spot slouching in the passengers seat, you watch as buildings came and went, different environments zooming by as the car made its way towards your destination.

"Hey," Lani pipes up, "you'll lemme know if anyone tries to mess with you, right? Let Ol' Cousin Lani take a crack at it?"

"Oh yeah, 'cause siccing my twenty-something cousin on some high schooler is gonna go over just great for the both of us," you snicker with a roll of your eyes. "Top 30 Ways To Get Expelled/End Your Boxing Career— Number 5 Will Surprise You."

"Alright, alright, fair enough..." Though her eyes are focused on the road, you know the eyebrow wiggle Lani does is meant for you. "But I expect to be the first person you tell if you meet any soulmates."

"Nah, sorry but Sammy already called dibs on that one," you say, smiling as your cousin curses out your twin and lightly smacks the steering wheel in a fit on minut rage. Your smile dims, however, as you continue. "And there will be no soulmate-meeting anyway, just so you know."

Lani glaces over to you for a second, curious. "Yeah? And why is that?"

"Because I'll be busy."

"With what?"

"School. Duh."

Your cousin boos loudly at your declarion, sparing a glance from the road before her to send you a disaproving look. You could only roll your eyes.

Even in an era where people had the ability to barf literal acid and use their tongues as God damn canons, soulmates were still a pretty common conversation topic throughout the world. It probably gave quirks a run for their money in terms of how high a regard society held them in— and reallly, who could fault that? The thought of meeting someone who was tailor-made to be your other half... Even the most dastardly of villians melted at the idea. Everyone did.

You were definitely not everyone.

You glance over at Lani, her left hand gripping the top of the steering wheel of her car. Though you couldn't see it, you were well aware of the kanji scribbled across her palm, etched into the skin from a young age. Most people had some way to identify their other half if the moment came. Some, like your cousin, had words scrawled onto their body. The first thing your soulmate says to you, or maybe the last. Others couldn't see color, or had timers on their wrists, or had an eye that was a different color from the other— hell, you'd even heard of an instance where a man would switch bodies with his soulmate once a week.

You, on the other hand...

You shake the thought from your head. Best not to think about it now.

Instead, you turn your head towards your cousin and give her a look, lips pursed as you scan her critically. "Don't start getting on my ass about soulmates just because your sad you haven't met yours yet."

"WHAT?! HEY!"

Lani nearly sends the two swerving as she whips her face towards you, mouth agape and brows furrowed in obvious offense. Her cheeks were starting to redden with embarressment. She had seriously thought she was being discreet about the whole ordeal, even coming up with the excuse to go to Japan to further her boxing career and family name when it was really due to the kanji on her hand. She was more likely to find her soulmate where kanji was used often, afterall.

It seemed she was losing her touch, though. Damn you!

"YOU LITTLE SHIT! SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW!"

"EYES ON THE ROAD!" You hollered desperately as you gripped onto your surroundings for what might as well be dear life. Thankfully there weren't any cars along the long, desolate stretch of road before you, but still holy shit— "WOULD YOU STOP SWERVING THE CAR?!"

"NOT UNTIL YOU SAY SIKE!"

"LANI!"

"SAY IT!"

"OKAYOKAYFINESIKE! SIKE! SIKESIKESIKESI--"

The car stops its swerving like the flick of a switch, going steady in an instant. The sudden change is enough to jolt you sideways, a dull 'doink' ringing out as your head bonks against the passenger seat window. You groan in pain as you rub your poor noggin.

You and your cousin sit in silence for a moment.

"...Maybe let's not talk about soulmates anymore."

"Yup."

Silence again.

Lani glances at you, fingers tapping at the steering wheel. "...So, you still a virgin or—"

The woman screams when you attempt to walk out of the moving vehice.

The moment you step out of the car, the vehicle parked just outside your new school, you can't help but stare up at the building in awe.

The place looked HUGE, holy shit! Your old school back in the states was pretty big too, but unlike Japan, hero academies in America were just that. Hero academies. They didn't combine courses like U.A. did. Those going into hero support or business usually went to their own seperate schools, though the buildings were usually right next door. Put simply, American hero schools were really just three schools on one large campus.

U.A. on the other hand...

Well, one look at the monstrous building and you already knew you were gonna end up getting lost at some point.

Having just finished grabbing your luggage from the back (since you were too busy gawking to do it yourself), Lani strolls over and hands you your bags. She smirks at you, an eyebrow raised as she gives you a once over. "Nervous already?"

You definitely were, but you refused to show weakness in front of a woman who liked to hang posters of herself in her bathroom.

Defiantly, you grab a hold of your suitcase and start marching towards the intimidating building, determination driving you forward. You smirk back at your cousin over your should and say, "Not even a little bit."

The woman only shrugs, her long legs making it easy for her to catch up with you. "Good," she hums, "because the principle and your homeroom teacher are right there."

"WHAT."

You whip your head around in the direction Lani points with her chin, and sure enough you spot two figures standing just past the large arch before U.A.'s entrance. One slouches there, dressed almost entirely in black save for the pale bandages wrapped around their neck and shoulders, while another figure stands just beside them. Short enough to just barely reach their darkly-dressed companion's knees, the smaller figure clearly had better posture and an even better sense of style, the dark suit vest and red tie standing out against white fur.

You immediatly recognize the figures from your cousin's flash cards. It seemed she did too, as she began waving over to the two enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically...

Damnit, she was gonna try and embarress you, wasn't she?

"Heeeeeyyy!" Lani crowed loudly, lips spread into a large grin. "How you guys doin', huh? Good I hope, haha!"

Your shoulders tense, teeth clenching in embarressment. You glare at your cousin as she continues to treat your new school administrators like they were old friends— which you knew for a fact they WEREN'T because otherwise she would have bragged your ear off about it! Sweat starts to bead at your forehead, even more so once you and your asshole relative come to a stop before the other two adults.

You definitely didn't look your best, swamped with luggage and shoulders squared like you were fixing for a fight. In a fit of awkwardness, you can't help it when you whip out a finger gun on reflex and stutter, "Hel-- hey, princ. Teach. How goes it?"

There's a brief moment of silence. Your new school administrators only blink at your involuntary greeting, meanwhile Lani snickers at you the way only a cousin could (like a big meanie head).

Someone could have stabbed you in the heart at that moment and honestly? You'd thank them.

The world isn't so merciful, unfortunately for you, and you're left to live with the guarantee that you'd lay awake tonight thinking about this very moment as the furry figure in the suit sends a kind smile your way. "Yes, young [_____] King, is it? Welcome to U.A. High! We're very glad to have you."

You brain immediatly pulls up info from your time spent memorizing the school staff.

Nezu, U.A. Principle. Quirk: Big Brain, basically. The first animal to recieve a quirk. Very small, much cute.

"Uh— thanks," you say, your nerves becoming even more frazzled as you start to reach for a handshake only to realize that would be too American of you. You quickly duck your upper body downwards in what you hoped was a passible bow. You cringe. "S-sorry..."

"Oh no, that's quite alright," the rodent assures you with a wave of his hand (paw?), smile still on his face. He then turns to Lani, who'd been watching the whole thing in high amusement. "I assume you're Miss Leilani, then?"

Your cousin bows respectfully, sending a wink towards the rodent once she's standing straight again. "The one and only."

Your eye twitches. Dear God, if your cousin started flirting with an actual animal you would officially loose your shit (as well as any remaining respect you had for the woman).

As your cousin starts talking legal jargon with your new principle, you pull yourself up from your bow and breath a sigh of relief. Though you were still wary of Lani's intentions with the rodent, you were at least grateful for the opportunity to catch your breath before talking to any more authority figu— nope, nevermind, the other one was staring at you, holy shit.

Unlike Nezu, this guy was actively giving you a reason to be nervous. You hadn't seen him smile once this entire time, though you had the feeling that he probably didn't do much of that anyways. His bloodshot eyes were lidded like he was bored beyond belief. The way he stared at you, as if gazing right through your very soul... You can't help but shudder a bit, going through your internal database once again.

Shota Aizawa, AKA Earsure Head. Quirk: Quirk Be Gone! Naps a lot. Looks like he's eternally tired of everyone's bullshit.

Your new homeroom teacher.

You immediatly bow again, startled, before standing ramrod straight. Since you were going to be seeing him often, you might as well try to get the two of you off on the right foot. Might be a little hard since he was practically glaring at you already, but you're pretty sure he just had a case of Resting Bitch Face.

"Teach— I mean, Sensei. Nice to meet you. Glad to be here," you try to say with confidence, chest puffed out slightly as you stand tall. When the man only continues to stare, you go for a different approach and add, "Love the hair, by the way. Lookin' good."

Probably not the greatest route to go, especially when the man responds to your compliment (which you wholeheartedly meant, by the way, the guy obviously used conditioner) by squinting his dry ass eyes at you.

Someone really needed to get the man some eyedrops or something.

At a loss, you hesitantly raise your hand up to your head for a salut.

That seems to do the trick, and your new teacher relents with a long sigh as he slouches even further. He shakes his head at you, like he was already disappointed, and you're taken aback when he mumbles, "You're gonna cause me problems, aren't you?"

"You literally met me like two minutes ago, what the hell?" You blurt out, offended, only to immediatly regret it when all three adults turn to look at you. Aizawa squints at you once again, and you involuntarily respond with another salut. "Uh! My bad, boss."

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, right, I mean Mr. Aizawa— S-sensei— uh, Sir..?"

Your new teacher pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just Aizawa Sensei is fine."

"Right, right... Cool..."

Taking the momentary silence as her cue, Lani pats you on the back roughly. "Welp! I guess I'll go ahead and get outta the way then! I'm sure you've got lots of hero stuff to show this little parasite of mine," she says while pinching your cheeks, the large grin across her mouth showing off her sharp teeth.

"Of course," Principle Nezu agress, watching on as try to bat your annoying cousin away. "We'll be sure to take good care of them while they're here, I can assure you that."

"If they can refrain from causing problems, that is," Aizawa added lowly.

Lani cackles lightly. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Hey!" You protest, but your cousin ignores you as she ruffles your hair playfully.

"I'll leave you to it, then." The woman pulls you into a brief hug, one you quickly return with zero complaint. It was finally starting to sink in that the two of you wouldn't see each other for some time, and you tried not to let it get to you. When the two of you pull away from one another, Lani levels you with a stern look and points a finger at you as she says, "I don't wanna hear about any fights outside of hero stuff, okay?"

You nod, confused. "Well yeah, duh—"

"Not unless you win."

A snort erupts from your nose, and you lightly punch the woman as she snickers under her breath. "Well I guess you'll be hearing about all of them then," you say with a smirk.

"Ha! That's the spirit," Lani praises. She ruffles your hair again one last time, sending you a wink as she turns to walk back to her car. "Text me later, yeah?"

You send her a thumbs up, watching as she hops into her car. Waving as she drives away, you finally turn back to your new school superiors once your cousin is out of sight, a smile on your face.

"Already planning on getting into fights, huh?" Arms crossed, Aizawa appears less than impressed.

You salut again, eyes wide. "Uh! No sir— I mean, Aizawa Sensei! I was just joking around, I would never!"

The dark-haired man only sighs, meanwhile Nezu redirects your attention by saying, "Don't mind him, young King. I'm afraid he's a bit of a prickly character during first impressions, but I assure you he's not as bad as he seems."

Aizawa shakes his head in disagreement. "Not true. I come from hell."

"You like cats, Aizawa."

"Where do you think they come from?"

Nezu raises a paw up to his head like he's facepalming, and you hesitantly raise your hand and say, "I think cats are pretty cool."

Your Sensei sends you a flat look. "What, did you want a medal?"

Your new teacher was a bit of an asshole, truth be told, but you could understand where he was coming from. You couldn't imagine having to do hero work while also looking after a bunch of super-powered teenagers. You'd give Nezu's words the benefit of the doubt.

In the meantime, though—

"I mean, a medal WOULD be pretty nice, yeah," you murmer, hand hooked under your chin as you feign thoughtfulness.

Aizawa blinks at you, obviously not expecting that kind of answer, but his bored look is back in an instant. "Don't get any ideas, problem child."

Smiling, you salut him again. "Yes Sensei."

"And stop saluting. I'm strict, but I'm no drill sargent," he grumbles into the bandages wrapped around his neck. "Too much shouting. Too much work."

"Sorry, Sensie," you apologize as you retract your hand. "Reflex."

"Yes, your family has a bit of a history in the military, do they not?" Nezu piped up, gazing up at you with a polite smile. "I'm sorry if I'm oversteppping any boundries, I simply did a bit of reading on your family while I was looking over your file."

You shake your head at the rodent and chuckle lightly. "Nah, it's fine. My family's reputation isn't exactly private, so I'm not surprised," you say. "But yeah, a lot of our past relatives used to be in the navy before quirks were really a thing."

You new principle nods along. "I see, thank you for sharing that. Now," he begins, gesturing towards the large school building waiting just past him, "how about we start by dropping your luggage off at your dorm? I'm sure you don't want to be hefting all that weight around all day."

Honestly, you had no problem with the extra weight. You'd been training for the hero business since you were young, so carrying heavy things for long periods of time was no big deal for you. You did like the idea of the extra convienence, though, so you simply smile at your rodent superior and say, "Sure, that sounds great!"

"Wonderful." Nezu starts walking, you and Aizawa easily following behind the short anthro. "If you will, then, please follow me."

As your walking, you glance sideways at your new Sensei with newfound awe. You just occured to you that, despite meeting the man face-to-face, your cousin Lani hadn't made any sort of advances towards the man. That was definitely a first. Usually the woman couldn't resist flirting with someone new, especially if they were a Pro Hero. Maybe she wasn't into tired-looking men? Nah, Akane's dad had practically been the epitome of insomnia and your cousin had come onto him just fine. Maybe it was because she didn't wanna get involved with your teacher? HA! Yeah right. You'd seen her Netflix history. She'd probably drool at such a cliche. Hmm, maybe—

"Is there something you want to tell me, problem child?"

The sudden question makes you jolt. Though his eyes had been ahead the whole time, he was still able to sense you staring at him.

"Uh, no sir!" Your voice warbles as you laugh, embarresssed. "I was just, um... Thinking."

"About?"

"Oh, uhh—" your mouth settles into a thin line, your gaze flickering towards the short Principle walking in front of you. Even though his back was towards the two of you, you were well aware that he was likely listening into the conversation.

Did you really feel like asking your new teacher why he wasn't hot enough to get hit on by your cousin? With the principle right there? No, not really, so you instead go with something less on the nose. You ask, "Are you married, Sensei?"

You think you spot one of Nezu's ears twitch at the question. Aizawa nearly stops walking right then and there. He actually turns to you this time, his expression scrunched up like he was cringing (the most emotion you've seen out of the man all day). With that lightly revolted expression, he says to you, "Pretty sure I'm a little too old for you, kid."

"Wha—" Your eyes widen, a booming laugh bursting its way out from you as you wave away the man's silly little assumption frantically. "NO! No no no, I'm not asking for me! C'mon, Sensei! It's not like that I swear!"

Aizawa rubs at his temples. "I honestly expected more from you. You've barely even been here five minutes."

"I wasn't trying to! Honest, I was just—" You make some incoherent croaking noises as your words fumble around in your throat. You round on Nezu, desperate as you plead, "Principle Nezu, he's not my type, I promise!"

The short rodent only continues his steady pace, not turning to face either of you as he hums. "You really should mind your words, young King. They may lead to some unpleasant misunderstandings in the future." You can tell from his tone that he's smiling as he continues, "And we wouldn't want any more of those, now would we?"

You sag in defeat. There was really no arguing your way out of this one, was there?

As the three of you get to the school's front doors, you glance over at Aizawa Sensei and ask, "So hey, if you get to call me problem child then does that mean I get to give you a nickname too?"

"It's not a nickname," the man grumbles. "I call all my students that."

"...So it's not a no." You briefly jog ahead and hold the door open for Nezu, smiling as he nods appreciatively.

"Why thank you."

"Hey, no problem."

You hold the door open for your Sensei as well, and the man doesn't bother with manners, walking right past you without sparing you a clance. "You're not giving me a nickname, kid."

"Nah, we'll get there," you say quietly, a smirk forming on your lips as you walk into the cool building after your school administrators. "We'll definitely get there."

After dropping off all your things at your dorm building, you're taken on a brief tour of U.A.'s campus. The tour itself was lead by both Nezu and Aizawa, though either would provide contrasting bits of commentary throughout the whole thing.

Nezu was byfar the most helpful. He'd give brief discriptions of each department and point out what each area was used for, as well as answer any questions you had. He was a real life saver.

"Students are permitted bathroom breaks during class, but only one at a time and with your Sensei's permission."

"If for whatever reason you don't wish to eat in your dorm, all meals are served and provided within our school's cafeteria."

"This is the our school infirmiry. Any injuries you may sustain will be healed by Recovery Girl."

Aizawa Sensei was... Less helpful.

"If you need the bathroom, I suggest holding it in. I won't have you missing out on any lessons just because your bladder was too weak."

"If you're gonna eat in the dorm, then you better pay for your own food. We're not buying you ingredients."

"If you're injured, then it better be because of hero training. NOTHING ELSE."

He made a show of hammering that last point into your brain, a serious glare being sent your way as he towered over you. He seemed pretty adamant about that rule for some reason...

Your tour was over in no more than 30 minutes, and before you knew it you were back at your dorm building, your two school administrators leaving you to your devices (Aizawa parting only after sternly demanding that you "keep out of trouble or else"). You bring all your luggage over to your room. It was on the second floor, and you thanked whoever was in charge of assigning rooms for the short trip. You couldn't imagine having to clamber up several flights of stairs day after day.

You pitied the poor souls bound to room on the fifth floor...

Would sure suck to be one of those guys, HA!

You start setting up your dorm, unloading your clothes into the closet and organizing all the items you'd bought for your stay. Just small things like bathroom amenities, a power strip for your electronics, school supplies, bedding, some extra crafting stuff and even a small first-aid kit just in case. There wasn't much to do after that, though. Any large furniture you had, either from home or purchased while out with your cousin, would be shipped over to U.A. in order to make it more convinient for students. Luckily, you wouldn't have to wait long. From what Nezu had told you, all your furniture would arrive later in the day just before dinner. Until then, your room was pretty much the same as when you got there.

Having nothing better to do, you pull out your phone and hold it up to take a quick selfie with your mostly-empty room, manuvering so your eyes peered up from the bottom corner ominously. It takes several tries (pulling off the skrunkly look was no easy task), but you eventually get something you're happy with. You pull up into your family's groupchat and hit send.

You take a seat on your dorm floor, smiling as you watch the replies soar in.

we share dna how neat

You: [newroom.jpeg]

You: What do you guys think

Clone: New room, new you?

You: Obviously

booger: nice gamrer setup

Clone: Yeah, I'm really digging the whole minimalistic look you're going for.

Clone: The lack of bed really says a lot about you.

booger: yeh

booger: plain adn boringg

Mami: No hables así con tus hermanos

booger: solo unaa bronma mami

Mami: ¡Me alegro de que estés sano y salvo! ¿Cómo ha estado la escuela? ¿Cuáles son las clases que tienes? ¿Conociste a alguien agradable?

You: Nah Mami, school doesn't start until two more days. Its been good though. Schools really big.

You: Principle is a mouse. Homeroom teacher is ok, don't think he gets a lotta sleep though :/

booger: princple is a mouse

booger: bruh

Clone: So he's just an average minimum wage worker, then?

Mami: Sé amable con tus profesores. no quiero escuchar cosas malas

You: Yes Mami

booger: ayo were yur bed at tho

You: All the furniture doesn't come until later

booger: lmao

booger: come

Clone: Stop.

You: Stop

Mami: ¿Ir a dónde?

booger: ASHKASJKLAJSLD MAMI NO

Clone: Oh my God.

Clone: Look what you've done.

You: Dumbass

Mami: No llames tonto a tu hermano. ¿Cuál fue la broma?

You: Nothing Mami

Clone: Nothing Mami.

booger: nthing mami

booger: no tee preocups poor eso

You: Is Mom at work right now

Mami: Sí, hoy está en su agencia. No te preocupes, le diré que le dijiste hola.

You: Ok cool

Mami: ¿Cómo está Lani? ¿Está bien?

booger: yeh did she geet any yet

Mami: ¿Conseguir qué?

Clone: It's nothing, Mami. Don't listen to him.

You: Lanis good. Still flirting with everthing that breaths

Clone: *Breathes.

You: Shut up

booger: lmao she stil signle tho

You: Obviously

Mami: Pensé que ya les había dicho a ustedes dos que no chismearan sobre la familia.

booger: no necesitaria chismear si no nos diera tanto material

You: Lol

Clone: You two are so immature sometimes.

You: Says the guy with the Goosebumps collection

Clone: They are complex pieces of literature, excuse you.

booger: the covr designn makes it look ike thers snot on therm

Clone: False.

You: True

Clone: It's supposed to be slime.

booger: looks loike boogrers

Mami: Ustedes dos paren eso. No te metas con Sammy, solo le gustan sus libros.

Clone: Yeah, I just like my books.

booger: lmao nerd

Clone: I know where you live, Niko.

booger: ??

booger: we loive iin the same hous?

Clone: Exactly.

booger: lmao

You stretch a bit from your spot on the floor, quickly checking the time. 3:24. Your furniture wouldn't be here for another few hours, and honestly? You weren't too keen on spending the remainder of your day holed up in your bare room.

Plus, not having anything to sit on other than your room's hardwood floor wasn't exactly doing your butt any favors. You were already getting sore.

You: Ok I gotta get going now

You: I'll talk to you guys later

booger: boooooo

Mami: ¿A dónde vas? ¿Necesitas ver el principio?

Clone: Already in trouble? Damn.

booger:: ayooo who yo beaat up

You: I'm not in trouble jeez

You: I just wanna go explore the school some more

You: Scope out the joint before I make my move

Mami: ah ok entonces te cuidas

Mami: dile a Lani que dije hola

You: Don't you have her number?

Mami: Oh si. Gracias

You: No problem Mami :)

Clone: Remember, always go for the biggest, toughest person there.

booger: yeh assert dominnce

You: It's school not prison

booger: same thiong

Clone: Yeah, I'm not sure I'm seeing a difference here.

You: Ok fair enough

You: Thanks for the advice I guess

You: Love you guys

Mami: te quiero, cariño

Clone: Bye, love you.

booger: i lov me to thanks

Mami: >:(

booger: lo sieento mami es la dura vrdad

You roll your eyes, clicking your phone off as you move to stand. Stretching a bit and wiggling your limbs in an attempt to ease any stiffness, you take a moment to hype yourself up.

You hadn't lied about wanting to explore your new school further. It was a big place, afterall, and you wanted to get a better laydown of the campus before school officially started. You'd hate to look like a total loser on your first day, getting lost in the halls. God knows Aizawa Sensei would probably tear you a new one. Plus, you didn't want your new classmates' first impression of you to be that new foriegn kid who couldn't get to class on time.

Thankfully, Principle Nezu had already given you the all clear to wander around campus. As long as you didn't get up to trouble (as Aizawa had put it). Plus, thanks to the tour of your two administrators had given you, you were confident you'd be able to find your way around no problem.

With renewed vigor, you strut up to your door and pull it open, making sure to shut it behind you as you stroll into the hall.

Yeah, you think to yourself as you practically skip down the stairs, I'll be just fine.

Chapter Text

Holy shit.

You were so fucking lost.

You don't know where it all went wrong. You'd been fine just a few minutes ago, strolling confidently through the areas Principle Nezu and Aizawa had shown you earlier that day. You actually got to meet Recovery Girl when you passed by the infirmary. You'd nearly cooed when you saw the granny— she was just so small, like a hamster. Not to mention how kind and hospitable (haha) she'd been, welcoming you to U.A. and even sending you off with a small box of flower-themed bandaids. She reminded you of Window Seat Grandpa.

Immediatly, you added her to the list of People to Protect.

You must have not been paying much attention to your surroundings after leaving her office, too caught up in rifling through your new bandaids (you just wanted to see if your favorite flower was in there). By the time you refocused on your environment, you'd already taken a few wrong turns too many. Any attempts you made to find your way out was futile. The only result you garnered from trying was getting even more lost.

And so now you stood in an unfamiliar hallway, all your previous mojo drained from you. You'd been staring the same poster on the wall for what felt like hours, peering dejectedly at the cartoon soap bar promoting good bathroom hygien for all.

It's not as if you were totally helpless, though.

There were other people on campus. Some were students, all of which were foriegners like you. You knew from your research that the whole dorm system was still relatively new, yet the administrators of U.A. still tried to make the process as seamless as possible. As a result, all foriegn students were required to arrive on campus a maximum of three days in advanced to the start of the school year. This was in order to avoid any travel issues or delays. As a result, though they were sparse, you would sometimes spot other teens wandering around school grounds. You'd even walked past a few during your little expadition, greeting them with a wave and watching as they'd reply with varying levels of enthusiasm.

Your favorite had been this one girl who'd chirped a friendly little "Bonjour!" as she walked by, long dreads swaying softly as she beamed at you like the sun personified. Maybe your face had warmed at that moment, maybe not. She was just really cute.

Your LEAST favorite, though, had definitely been that one guy with the salt and pepper hair. How someone who barely met your shoulders could still succssesfully look down their nose at you was a mystery.

What wasn't a mystery was that you thought he was a DICK.

So yeah, there were definitely people around who could help you out. All you had to do was pull someone to the side, ask for directions. The only reason you hadn't done that already was because you were...

Kind of embarressed, honestly.

You'd been standing there in the hall for so long that now you were too afraid to move. Anxious that someone might call you out for being so utterly lost, you've resorted to putting on an act whenever someone walked by. You'd straighten up at their presence and stare at your bathroom hygien poster, taking on a thoughtful pose and analyzing the advertisement like it was a complex puzzle. You looked like an art snob at the museum, the words "but what does it MEAN?" right at the tip of your tongue.

Besides, you were a hero in training, damnit! What kind of idiot gets lost in their new school right after the principle himself gave them a tour? You did, obviously.

Not that you wanted anyone else to know that.

Resigned to your fate, you lean forward until your forehead bonks lightly against the wall. Your shoulders sag with a miserable sigh.

"Oh Hand Soap Senpai," you despair to your paper-thin companion, "I'm really in it now, huh?"

Hand Soap Senpai offers you no comfort.

Oh well. Maybe being stuck here wouldn't be such a bad thing. You could act as a hall monitor of sorts. Scolding kids for skipping class and pointing them in the direction of the nearest bathroom. You'd take your job as Hallway Guardian very seriously. And then once you've grown old and withered away, the school would build a statue or bench in your honor.

"See this bench, kids? Legends say that the Hallway Guardian used to stand in this very spot!" Nezu The Third would say while giving a tour to future students, and the kids would all "ooh" and "ahh" at your fancy goldplate bench.

You giggle at the thought, a hysterical smile split across your mouth. Ooh, and then the PRESIDENT would—!

"Are you alright?" A voice asks, interrupting you from where you're (dileriously) planning out the rest of your life.

Eyes wide, you glance up at the poster in front of you. "...Hand Soap Senpai?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

You turn slowly, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets once you find the absolute cinderblock of a man standing behind you. You immediatly recognize the hero/school administrator.

Ken Ishiyama, AKA Cementos. Quirk: Cement Bending. U.A.'s Literature teacher. Kinda looked like that one guy from Chowder. Is he actually made of cement or does he just look like that?

...You'd just mistook your new teacher for the mascot of a bathroom hygene advertisement.

Fantastic.

"Uh—" You nearly fall over yourself with how quickly you turn your body around, bowing quickly before standing at attention. Greeting the man with a salut, you stutter, "H-hey there, Mr. Cementos. How, uh, how are you today?"

The man blinks at your strange behavior, but answers all the same. "I'm doing alright, thank you. What about you?"

"Oh, y'know..." You laugh nervously, hand swatting the air in a dismissive manner. "Just, um... Just hanging around."

"Ah. I see," Cementos says, the tone of his voice conveying that he actually really didn't. He tilts his head slightly, curious as he says, "I'm sorry, I don't believe I got your name?"

"Oh right." You bow again. Smiling, you say, "[_____] King, nice to meet you Mr. Cementos."

The man hums, the small glimmer in his eyes being the only sign that he recognized your name. The man didn't seem to emote much, his face remaining flat (heh) as he spoke to you, but you didn't mind. He nods. "Yes, I remember now. You're the new class 2-A addition."

"Yeah. That's me."

"Hmm."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, an awkward silence settling in. You glance at the floor. Cementos looks to the side. You peer over at him again, tensing once you realize just where the man has his eyes fixed.

Your eyes flicker over to Hand Soap Senpai.

When you look back at Cementos, you almost flinch at the unreadable expression he fixes upon you. The man hesitates for a moment, almost like he's afraid to bring it up (totally understandable, you'd be afraid too), but eventually he asks again, "Are you alright? I'm sorry if i was... Interrupting anything, but I happened to see you standing here and grew concerned since you seemed upset. Is there anything I can help you with?"

He glances over at the poster behind you again and adds, "That's within my job description, of course. I'm afraid I'm not equipped to handle... Certain problems."

...The cinderblock man thought you were crazy.

"Ahaha," you chuckle, rubbing the nape of your neck in an attempt to ease your embarrassment. Since he was here, you might as well swallow your pride and ask for directions. He'd already witnessed you trying to have a conversation with a piece of paper, afterall, so it wasn't like things could go anymore downhill from here. "Um, actuallly yeah, I'd really appreciate it if you could give me some directions? I'm a little, uh... Lost?"

"I see, then. In that case, please follow me," Cementos says. He starts walking, motioning for you to follow, and you quickly fall into step beside him. "I was actually on my way to the Support Department before I came across you. Do you think you'l be able to find your way from there?"

"Yeah, I should be fine," you say, mouth stretching into a relieved grin as you appraise the man gratetully. "Thanks a bunch, Mr. Cementos. For a hot second there I thought I was gonna be stuck in that hallway forever."

Your school administrator bows his head slightly. "Of course, anytime. Though may I ask how you ended up lost in the first place? It's not often I find students loitering near the janitoral staff locker rooms, after all."

Janitoral staff locker rooms?

Huh. Somehow the presence of Hand Soap Senpai suddenly made a lot more sense when corilated with the presence of janitors.

The two of you walking side-by-side, you relay the events leading up to your previous predicament to your large teacher as he leads you down corridors and around corners. Do you maybe leave out the whole getting-distracted-by-pretty-bandaids bit in favor of seeming like less of an idiot? Perhaps. Do you also maybe skim over the whole talking-to-a-poster thing in hopes your teacher will forget sooner? Nobody knows. Either way Cementos doesn't say a word as you explain, only humming every now and then to show that he was listening. Only when you mention being too embarrassed to ask for help does he speak.

"There's no shame in asking for assistance," he says earnestly. You almost trip over your own feet as his stony features shift into a kinder expression, the corners of his mouth quirking up just the barest amount. "Even Pro Heros need help sometimes, afterall."

You can't help but smile warmly at the advice. For someone who was basically made of stone, he could be a huge softie when the moment called for it.

Soon enough, after many twists and turns, the two of you arrive at a familiar hallway. You have to stop yourself from falling to your knees and kissing the floor, relief flooding your systems as your eyes skim over the large steel doors lined side-by-side down one end of the hall. The support labs.

Turning to face the man, you beam at Cementos and give him two thumbs up. "Thanks, Mr. Cementos! I definitely owe you one for this!"

"There's no need," your teacher assures with a wave of his large hand. A tiny smile on his face, he continues, "I'm happy to help, young King."

You chuckle at the man's words.

Oh, silly Mr. Cementos. You were in his debt now, obviously, and you were gonna make sure that debt was repaid in full.

There was nothing he could do to stop it.

It was going to happen.

The two of you exchange goodbyes, and you wave to your new favorite cinderblock as he makes his way towards where he was needed. "I'll see you around, Mr. Cementos!"

"Likewise, young King."

Before you know it, the man turns a corner out of sight and you're left standing alone. Quickly, you pull your phone from your pocket and check the time. 4:56.

Shit. Had you seriously wasted nearly hour loitering outside the janitor locker room all because you were too embarressed to ask for help?! Damn...

You were definitely taking Mr. Cementos' words to heart from here on out.

You start strolling down the hall at a leisurely pace, pondering your next move. You still had some time to spare before your furniture got here, and this time you planned on staying in areas you were familair with (you'd learned your lesson). Maybe you could go to the library and see what there was to read, or—

Suddenly, there's a thundering CRASH! from the farther down the hall, and you immediatly stop in your tracks. There at the end of the hallway sits one of the support labs, though it had its door wide open and you quickly deduce that that's where the ruckus came from. Eyes wide, you startle when yet another loud noise booms out from the lab not long after.

It's not another crash, though.

"MUNTING BITCH KA! MAY IDEA KA BA KUNG SINO AKO?! AKO ANG INYONG TAGAPAGLIKHA! KAKALAT KITA SA IMPYERNO KUNG HINDI KA SUMUNOD, MUNTING BITCH KA!"

Without a second thought you're marching over to the lab, shoulders squared and expression hardened into something more serious. Besides handling criminals and natural disasters, your old school curriculum had trained you to handle lesser disturbances. Domestic abuse being one of them. You could be wrong (at least you sure hoped you were), but even if you couldn't understand what was being said you knew the loud crash and aggressive tone weren't good signs. They'd gotten your senses tingling in an instant.

Turning sharply, you burst through the doorway and nearly trip over something. You gaze down—

Someone's arm was on the floor.

Some... Someone's aRM WAS ON THE FLOOR HOLY SHIT.

You stand there, gaping in horror at the severed limb that sat just at your feet. Lifeless and limp, it lay motionless on the floor, its chrome coating glimmering under the lab's bright li...

Wait a damn minute.

"Wha—? That arm's not real, what the fuck?"

"Hey! Who said you could be in here?" A voice suddenly demands, and you snap your gaze up from the floor.

From across the room, there's a boy around your age standing near one of the workbenches against the wall. The moment your eyes land on him, you're immediatly reminded of those low-quality mad scientist costumes you'd see at Walmart whenever Halloween was around the corner (read: two months away). This guy was basically the whole package. Long white labcoat with the rubber gloves that reached up to the elbows, clunky aviator-style goggles around his neck, wild salt and pepper hair—

"Hey, hold up!" You exclaim. Brows furrowed, you point an accusitory finger at the stranger. "You're that asshole who didn't wave back to me in the hallway!"

The boy stares at you like you're crazy, his lips curled in a sneer. "I beg your fucking pardon?"

This asshole didn't even remember?

As you gape at him (deeply offended), the boy decides he's officially had enough of your presence and waves you away dismissively, like how a prince would to a lowly commoner. "If you're done, I would much prefer it if you went to as you were before— out of my lab and nowhere fucking near me."

You're eyes narrow. Oh yeah, you hate him. You hate him so much.

Your gaze flickers down towards the metal arm lying on the floor before you. It looked pretty advanced for something made by a highschooler, if not a little steampunk-esk, some gears visibly interlocked here and there. You noticed the mechanical limb wasn't as complete as you'd first thought, instead only reaching just underneath where the elbow would be to create a lone forearm, hand and fingers and everything.

As you peer down at the chrome limb, your mouth curves into a sick smirk, an awful idea taking form within your mind.

Meanwhile, the rude stranger from across the lab taps his foot impatiently. You'd been staring at his genius creation for some time, which was completely understandable (his mind would be blown too if he were you), but he was itching to get back to work and he couldn't really do so with you loitering around like some dumb fucking tourist. He's stunned, shocked, when he sees you reach down for his latest project like some nasty ass toddler who's just spotted a new toy. You wave the limb at him carelessly, same as when you two passed each other in the hall earlier that day (yes, he DID remember).

"C'mon, Best Friend," you purr, lips spread in a cheschire grin as you waggle your eyebrows. "You sure you don't—"

The boy already knows what's coming. "Don't you fucking dar—"

"—need a hand?"

...Oh he hates you. He hates you so fucking much.

You snicker at the short stranger, amused as he points towards the doorway in the most aggressive manner possible. You can practically see the steam rising off his head as he demands, "Get out of my lab! Right fucking now!"

"Sure," you say with a shrug, turning to walk out the way you came.

"Not with the prosthetic, you dumbass!"

"Ooh." You glance down at the metal forearm in your grasp with newfound wonder, impressed. Throwing a grin back at the rude boy, you say, "Prosthetic, huh? That's really cool, Best Friend! Did you make it yourself?"

"No, I actually bought it off Amazon— Yes I made it, you dumbfuck, what do you THINK?" The boy rolls his eyes so hard you're afraid for a moment that they'll fall right out of his head. Holding his hand out to you like an owner scolding their dog for having something in its mouth, he says, "Now, if you don't mind...?"

You hand the mechanical limb back to the stranger, unphased as he practically snatches the thing back from you. You follow him as he stalks back to his workbench and smacks his project down onto the surface, a few nearby nuts and bolts jingling from the impact.

"Should you really be treating it so roughly?" You ask, ignoring the short boy when he whirls around to face you. "I mean, it's a prosthetic."

"You're still here?!"

You shrug, smiling nonchalantly. "I'm just curious."

Sensing that he wasn't going to coax you into leaving him the hell alone, your rude companion turns back towards his workbench and starts rummaging for nearby tools. You just watch from over his shoulder— something you could do with ease considering his height (or lack thereof)— and find yourself pleasantly surprised when the boy bothers to answer your ealier question.

"This arm is just a prototype," he explains. As he starts making minor adjustments to his project, you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing. He had the smallest screwdriver in his hand, holy shit. "Despite that, I intend for it to be used by a pro one day, and if that's going to happen then it should be able to function even after going through hell."

You nearly snort. "You're... Conditioning the metal arm?"

The boy rounds on you, features twisted in an annoyed scowl. "I'll do as I like with my fucking creations, thank you very much."

"Of course, of course," you concede, hands raised in surrendur. Shaking his head at you in irritation, the support student returns his attention back towards his latest project and you snicker softly. "I'm just saying, though, you might wanna be careful the next time you decide to go all drill sergeant on your stuff. I thought you were yelling at an actual person when I first heard you."

"Is that the reason you barged in here without permission?" Your rude companion scoffs. "Honestly, what kind of dumbass makes that mistake? You didn't even know the full fucking context and you just decide to walk in here like you own the damn place, busting my door down like some fucker on steriods."

"First off: the door was wide open, I didn't 'barge in' or anything. Second off: I was concerned, okay? Didn't have a clue what you were saying, but I knew it sounded nasty and just assumed shit was going down. How was I supposed to know it was an arm you were talking to?"

The boy pauses for a moment. "...Fine, in that case then yes, I guess you did the right thing."

"Exactly," you agree, arms crossed proudly. You never thought the guy would ever agree with you on anything, but here you are. Even if he could be a major asshole, at least the guy seemed to understand your concerns and agree with them. "Oh, I'm [_____] by the way. In case you were curious."

"I wasn't." The short stranger doesn't even pause his work, and you're left to stand awkwardly.

Your gaze flickers to the side, then back. "Are... Are you gonna tell me your name?"

"No."

You purse your lips, eyes squinting thoughtfully as you stare at the back of the boy's head. "...I'll leave if you tell m—"

"Bākōdo."

The reply is instant. You'd almost be offended by how quickly he answered if you didn't find it so funny.

"Cool." You grin.

Several moments pass, and after it becomes clear to him that you haven't left like you fucking SAID you would, Bākōdo finally puts a stop to his work and turns to glare at you. "I told you my name. Now leave, damnit."

"But is it your last name or your first?"

"What?"

"Well we are in Japan, so culturally it'd make sense that you'd give your last. But it might also be your first since you're here like all the other foriegn students, and depending on where you're from it might be reflex to just give your first," you explain matter-of-factly. The support student's lower eyelid visibly twitches and you laugh, your hands held up in surrender once again. "I just wanna know which it is, that's all!"

"For God's sake" your short companion grumbles. He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly irritated. "I already answered your stupid ass question, didn't I? All I'm asking in return is that you keep your fucking word and get the hell out of my lab!"

The boy looks about seconds away from completely losing his shit, but that doesn't deter you in the slightest. How could you possibly be scared of someone who probably wasn't tall enough to ride most amusement park attractions? Besides, you'd already decided to make it your mission to annoy the shit of him for the rest of year.

You weren't the type to go back on your promises.

"Aww, don't be like that Best Friend," you said with a pout.

"Don't call me that," Bākōdo growls as he leans away from you in a disgusted manner, arm held in front of him like a mini barrier between the two of you.

"Einstien, then?" You offer with a shrug.

"As much as I respect the man, that's not only generic as hell but also entirely misleading. The both of us are scientists, but I'm a God damn inventor while he was a theoretical physicist. To imply that the two of us are similiar would be a fucking gross generalization of the scientific communi—"

"Little Buddy?"

Bākōdo slams a fist down on his workbench in rage, tools and items clanking as he seeths with passion. "Get. The FUCK. Out of my lab."

You greet his anger with a sigh of relief. "Okay cool, that one was already taken anywa—"

"OUT!" Bākōdo booms, and you take that as your cue to get going as he grabs one of his tools to brandish towards you threateningly.

You nearly trip over your own feet as you zip on out of there, laughing all the way.

You were never getting over that tiny screwdriver.

Since it's what you originally had in mind (before getting distracted by a certain shorty with a temper), you head over to U.A.'s library in the hopes that you'd find something to keep yourself busy for the remainder of the day. You'd done enough exploring, and in all honesty you were kinda tired anyways. The thought of relaxing with a good book was enticing.

As you step through the threshold of the school's library, you can't help but breathe in the smell of the place.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you nod.

Yup, you thought, that's a library all right.

It's quiet (big surpirse there), and you wave to the librarian as you pass him.

Snipe. Quirk: having really good aim. Probably wears his cowboy hat even when he's not doing hero stuff.

The thought of asking the man for recommendations crosses your mind, but dismiss it in the end. You figured you'd let yourself wander around for a bit, scope out the place and memorize where everything was. If you couldn't find anything interesting by the time you circled back to the front desk, then you'd ask your new teacher for help.

Cue you meandering between book cases and shuffling through various titles for the next 20 or so minutes. Much to your surprise, there seemed to be a decent balance between academic and non-academic books. The library at your old school, in stark contrast, consisted mostly of textbooks and encyclopedias and old novels that were required reads for English class. The closest students could get to anything fiction at your old school was the librarian's not-so-secret complete collection of the Twilight Saga, which could be checked out via special request.

Needless to say, your old librarian didn't get many prepositions.

It's when you're perusing through the shelves near the back of the library that you spot it. Some splash of color in the corner of your eye has you turning your head, a large grin finding its way onto your face as you rush as quietly as you can over to the row of shelves against the back wall. Numbered and colorfully illustrated spines, you immediatly recognize the area from all the bookstore visits you'd done with your siblings back home.

The manga section.

Jackpot!

From what you can see, it seems U.A. had dedicated the entire back wall of their library to just graphic novels, the long rows of various books revealing a large and dedicated collection. The section is much larger than what you're used to. Your mouth nearly waters at all the content there was for you to consume.

You choose to start from one end of the wall of shelves, cramming yourself into the corner of the room to inspect the titles there. As you move down the line, you recognize a few series and oneshots here and there, some you'd finished and others you hadn't either because other things got in the way, you lost interest or one of your shitty siblings had spoiled the ending for you.

You'd never forgive your little brother for telling you that Erin was the titan. You'd barely made it halfway through the first book.

Midway through the school's manga section, you spot a certain collection a few rows down and immediatly recognize the title. It was actually one of the first series you'd ever read. You were young at the time, and you'd basically binge-read the whole thing in one sitting. It was one of your favorites, and had pretty much defined your taste in manga ever since. You practically bounce your way over, an excited pep in your step and the corners of your mouth twitching up into a grin. You figured you might as well give the series another read since you were there. Y'know, for nastolgia's sake.

As your hand gravitates towards the first book, you fail to notice the other hand that reaches for it as well. It isn't until the two of you brush knuckles that your eyes widen in surprise, instantly retracting your hand as if it were burned.

"Shit, my bad."

"Oh, sorry!"

Your head whips around towards the culprit, eyes even wider than before. Caught off guard, you had appologized in English due to reflex.

What you weren't expecting was for someone to do the same.

Beside you stands a girl around your age, two large and powerful-looking horns standing tall amidst her long, blonde hair. She has a bit of a snout, and as you give her a general once over, you do a double take when your gaze flickers down to see that she's not wearing shoes. No, instead of feet, you can see two pairs of hooves peeking out from underneath her bootcut jeans.

...Horsey?

Large, blue eyes stare back at you in surprise. The color is actually really pretty, and they remind you of a certain quote from a certain movie. You can't really remember how it goes though. Something about oceans inside oceans?

Silence carries on between the two of you for a few more moments until, eventually, the blonde raises a hand to point at you. Blinking, she asks, "English?"

You nod, blinking back at her. "English..."

The blonde gasps, hands clasping in front of her as she leans towards you just a bit. She's visibly excited, if the wide smile and glittering eyes were anything to go by.

It turns out her excitement is contagious, and you can't stop yourself from leaning forward as well, a grin slipping onto your face. You point to the girl, eyebrow raised in playful curiosity. "American?"

"American!" She agrees, head nodding rapidly. Her joyful demeanor suddenly drops, however, and you're left reeling as the blonde levels you with a serious expression. Quietly, as if she were spilling sensitive goverrnment intel, she murmurs, "Party rockers—"

"In the house tonight," you finish for her, your stern features matching her own.

A couple seconds after the words leave your mouth, the two of you burst. You clutch at your abdomen as you wheeze, meanwhile your new American friend lets loose peels of bubbly laughter, hands held up to her snout in an attempt to muffle the joyful sounds. It seems that her attempts were for naught, though. One harsh shush! from the librarian has the both of you straightening up, giggling cut short.

"Sorry," you both whisper at the same time. Your unintentional jinx has the both of you snickering quietly.

The blonde smiles at you, sincerity radiating off her in waves. It catches you off guard a bit, if you're being honest, but you quickly shake the shock away and gesture towards the manga in front of you. "Sorry, were you gonna...?"

"Oh, no no no, it's fine! You can go ahead!" The bubbly girl insists.

"No, trust me, it's cool! I already read this series a bunch of times anyways, so."

"Seriously?" Your fellow American gasps, hand at her heart. "Omg, no way, same!"

Your eyes widen and pleasantly surprised. "Whoa, what? For real?"

"Yeah, totally! It was actually one of—"

"Your first reads?" You finish for her, jaw going slack as she points to you and nods rapidly. You grip your head in shock. "Holy shit, no way, get outta here. That series is literally what—"

"Got you into manga?"

You don't give any sort of answer to her question. Not that you need to, anyways, as your stunned silence speaks volumes. The two of you simply gape at each other in astonishment. The blonde's hands come up to cup her mouth, blue eyes wide and sparkling like pools of saltwater.

You blink, practically in slow motion. You're beyond disbelief. "Holy shit," you murmur. "New best friend? Hello?"

Your fellow American giggles. She's absolutely beaming with joy, her hands waving excitedly as she squeals. "Omg, yes! New bestie, hiii!"

"SHH!"

The two of you cower at the sharp sound, heads whipping around to face the librarian's general direction. Despite the fact that neither of you can see him past all the bookshelves, you're almost certain that the man is looking back towards the manga section in mild disappointment. You both cringe at the thought.

"Sorry," you both apologize once again.

You tilt your head towards your new bestie with a lopsided smile and motion in the direction of the library exit. "Maybe we should take this somewhere else," you suggest, and the blonde giggles.

"Good idea."

After a minute or so, the two of you make your way to leave the library, first stopping by the librarian's desk in order to check out the manga you were both so fond of. First thing you learned about your new American friend was that she could be incredibly stubborn when she wanted. She hadn't allowed you to even entertain the idea of letting her have dibs, outright refusing to take the book altogether. In the end, you didn't have much of a choice but to take it yourself— Not that you minded much. If anything, you found the whole situation pretty funny.

Who knew someone so bubbly could be so demanding?

When you get to the checkout area, there's an awkward air about the place. Though Snipe doesn't say anything about your guys' manga section mishap(s), both you and your blonde friend still fidget sheepishly from the other side of the front desk. It definitely doesn't help when the whole process is extended. Being a new student and all, you had yet to recieve a library card and you kinda needed one of those bad boys to check out books and stuff.

Thankfully, Snipe very cordial about the whole thing. He calmly explains the application process, answering any questions you might have, and in no time at all you've got a rectangular piece of plastic in your hand. Grateful, you quickly check out your manga and offer an apology to the librarian, your blonde friend doing the same.

"It's alright. Jus' be sure to keep it quiet next time," the man says with a southern drawl, and the two of you nod at his request.

"You got it."

"Sure thing!"

After wandering around campus for a bit, you and your new blonde friend eventually find a nice bench out in one of the courtyards to sit. The two of you spend the next half hour or so just hanging out and getting to know each other as time flies by. As you talk, you learn a few things about the girl sat next to you:

1) She was in the hero course, just like you.

The girl had vibrated (almost violantly) with excitement when you revealed you were the same. After finding out that you were also in the same grade, she'd nearly phased through the bench with how badly she was shaking. Her happiness instantly depleted, however, when you uttered the name of your new homeroom teacher.

"Awww," she groaned with a pout, "we're not gonna be in the same class? Dang it!"

You only snort at her as she slumps along the bench dramatically. You swat the air, nonchalant. "Dude, it'll be fine, c'mon. It's not like we won't be able to hang outside of class."

"True," she concedes. Her features shift into a worrisome expression. "But gosh, Aizawa Sensei? Really? He's so..."

"Sleep deprived?"

"Scary."

You purse your lips. "...Fair."

2) Yes, she was kind of half-horse. Or bovine at the very least, if her hooves were anything to go by.

"Oh man," you choke out, voice warbling as you try to keep a lid on the laughter that wanted to escape. "So you're like, a literal horse-girl? Ho-holy shit!"

"Ugh, stahhhhhhp," the blonde whines as she shoves your shoulder lightly. "I already get enough of that at home, don't you start too!"

You snicker. "What, you're classmates don't bring it up or anything?"

"Umm, not really? Memes and stuff are a little different here than the ones in America. Like, they'll still get it if you go 'what are thooose?' but I once had to explain to my friend Tetsu what a Chad was after I called him one..."

The girl burries her head in her hands then, shoulders trembling slightly. You're concerned at first, thinking that she's crying, but you pause when the sound of muffled giggles reach your ears.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Um—?"

"H-he thought... I was insulting him?"

The laughter you'd bottled up from earlier bursts out of you right then and there.

The last fact you don't learn until the conversation is drawn back to the very manga that lead to your fateful meet up. However, like what usually happens when talking about manga, the conversation takes a predictable shift towards anime and it's then that you discover yet another thing about the girl sat beside you.

3) She was a total and utter weeb.

Your fellow American rambles on about her favorite shows, her hands waving around in clear excitement whenever she got to plot point or character she was particularly fond of. You just sit and listen as she speaks, watching her motions and asking questions once in a while to show you were listening. You'll admit, most of what the girl says goes a bit over your head. You weren't as adversed in the world of anime, unfortunately, but she doesn't seem to mind in the slightest

"Me and my classmates had anime nights every week in our dorm last year," she said cheerfully. "We'll probably do it again this year, too. You should totally come some time!"

You blink, surprised by the offer. Sure, you guys had basically had one of the greatest meet-cutes in the history of mankind (the kind of thing middle aged woman disappointed with their love lives frothed at the mouth for), but you hadn't thought she'd go as far as to invite you over to her place. And to participate in her class tradition, no less.

You, the person she'd literally met in the school library like 30 minutes ago? Being invited to participate in a sacred and well-established ritual conducted along with her fellow classmates? As in the people who she'd been going to school with for a LEAST a year?

Damn. You weren't sure whether to be grateful for the offer or concerned by how quickly she'd invited a literal stranger into her dorm.

Eh, you chose the former.

"I'd love to," you say, sharp pearly whites on display as you grin widely.

"Yesss!" The girl sitting beside you squeals loudly, estatic as her clenched fists shook before her. A light pink flushes across her ckeeks as you snicker at her behavior. She smiles sheepishly. "Sorry! I'm not trying to be obnoxious or anything, it's just, like..." She puffs out a big breath, head lolling onto the backrest of the bench. "It's been soooo long since I've had someone to talk to about this stuff!"

You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. "About anime?"

"No, silly," the blonde says with a playful roll of her eyes. "Like, stuff in general. I mean, my classmates are totally great and all, believe me, but sometimes the things they say kinda go over my head. My Japanese is a little... Not super great? Like, one time my friend Monoma made me say something mean to some guys in your class and— Ugh, I was so embarrassed when I found out!"

You comfort the girl as she hides her face in her hands, rubbing her back as you frown. You don't see it, but the girl's eyes flicker over to where you're moving your hand in comforting circles, cheeks warm with color.

"That Monomama guy sounds like a dick," you say.

Your blonde friend snorts loudly, lifting her head up to give you an incredulous look. "No, Monoma," she corrects, and you smile at the pink dusting her face.

You're glad she liked your little joke.

"Yeah, Monopoly, what'd I say?" You shrug, unbothered when the girl shoves at you.

"Oh my gosh, whatever!" She says, exasperated. "But really though, Monoma's not a bad guy or anything. He's honestly super nice, and he even offered to help me with my Japanese when he saw I was having a hard time with it!"

"...Didn't you just say he tricked you into talking shit about other people?"

"Well—! I mean—!" Your friend flounders for a bit. "Y-yeah, he did, but like, it totally wasn't his fault!"

You give her a flat look.

"I... Okay, yes, I guess he can be kinda mean sometimes," she concedes as she deflates with defeat. "But like, he only acts like that to the people in your class. He just... Doesn't really like your them? Like he really, REALLY doesn't like them..."

Suddenly, the blonde lets out a loud gasp and cups her cheeks, blue eyes wide with horror. "Oh my gosh! That totally means he's not gonna like YOU!"

"O... Kay?" You grin, brows furrowing in confusion. "Is that supposed to be a bad thing orrr?"

"Of course it is! Ugh, it'll totally be like when you introduce your partner to your parents and they immediatly don't like them!" The girl says with her head thrown back dramatically, and surprised laughter explodes from you.

You hadn't met this Monoma guy at all, but surely his opinion couldn't be that important to your friend!

...Right?

Uncertain, you glance over at the blonde as she continues to whine. You try to hide the hurt in your tone as you ask, "So, what, if he doesn't approve of me or whatever then are you... Not gonna hang out with me anymore?"

"No," is the immediate reply. Though her face is stern at first, the blonde quickly backtracks when she sees your eyes grow sad. "I mean, YES! You and me are totally still gonna hang, I promise!"

"Oh," you breathe in relief, lips quirking into a smile. "Cool."

"Yeah," your fellow American giggles. "I mean, Monoma's super cool and everything, and I'm really glad that he's my friend—" Her previous stern look returns— "but he's got another thing coming if he thinks he can tell me who I can and can't hang out with!"

You chuckle, your chest abuzz with a feeling you couldn't name. You don't know what it was, but something about watching the usually bubbly girl get such a passionate attitude...

You kinda liked it.

"Ah," you swoon, the back of your hand thrown up to your forehead theatrically as you lean against the blonde on the bench beside you. "So glad I'll have you there to defend my honor, brave knight of mine."

Your friend giggles, chest puffed out and head held high as she smiles triumphantly. "Like, totally, bestie!"

A loud snort erupts from you and you break character for just a moment.

God, out of all the answers she could have gone with, of course she chose the most valley girl of the bunch.

It's at that moment that a loud sound rings out across the entire campus, a few jingling tones coming together to create a short melody. You and your friend both perk up at the noise. A tiny gasp leaves the blonde's lips, and you don't even need to glance over to know her features are tinted with excitement.

"Ooh," she says, "that's the dinner bell!"

You glance around. Sure enough, it seemed that some time had flown by while the two of you were talking. The sun had sunk closer down towards the horizon, painting the sky as well as everything around you in an orange hue. The air had also gotten cooler, the hoodie you had on protecting you from the soft breeze that blew past you. The chill air felt pleasant across the skin of your face.

You're startled out of your calm moment when there's a sudden tug at your arm, and you find your fellow American already standing up as she tries to pry you off the bench. You follow her unspoken command, beffudled as you're unceremoniously pulled to your feet.

"Um—"

"C'mon!" The blonde insists as she starts walking towards the school with you in tow. "Me and my friend Rin were gonna eat dinner together in the cafeteria, and since you and me are besties now you totally have to join!"

"Oh, okay," is all you say in return, and the girl beams at your compliance. Her plan to initiate you into her immediate friend group was about to be a total success, she just knew it!

Meanwhile, you were too stunned to speak. Eyes wide, you just couldn't stop staring down at where she'd linked your arms together. You knew she was in the Hero Course too but still, holy shit, she had some crazy ass strength! You were no paperweight. You definitely hadn't expected her to literally lift you to your feet...

That fuzzy feeling from before was starting to rear its head again.

The two of you stroll into the school building via a nearby entrance, and you simply allow yourself to be tugged along as your blonde friend leads you towards U.A.'s cafetria. She take it upon herself to act as your personal tour guide, pointing out various rooms and areas that you guys pass along the way. Much like Principle Nezu and Aizawa Sensei themselves had done earlier that day. She probably assumed you didn't know your way around since you were new to the school, but you didn't bother correcting her. You just let her show you around, too amused by the commentary she provided.

"This is the Staircase of Love! People like to make out under there!"

"Whatever you do, do NOT use this waterfountain. My friend Tsuburaba once dared our classmate Awase to lick the mouthpiece and, ugh! It was so gross! He got sick for like, a week."

"Ooh, ooh, see that dent in the wall over there? The big one? Yeah, that was me!"

That last comment leaves you with many questions, you're not gonna lie.

Finally, the two of you arrive at the lunch room. There are already a few other students inside, some standing in what you assumed was the lunch line while others were already scattered around the room, sitting at the various lunch tables throughout the area. Much like the school itself, the cafeteria was HUGE. It made sense, considering the monstrous student population U.A. no doubt boasted, but you still felt uneasy as you took in the sight of the various foriegn students sat at their tables.

It was like looking at the fandom of the world's most obscure media.

You couldn't imagine how packed the place would be once school officially started. Would you have to fight for a lunch table? Were you prepared to cut a bitch?

Your blonde friend tugs you along as she enters the lunchline and starts explaining the lunch process. You can't help but squint, skeptical.

"So I just tell him what I want and he just... Makes it for me?" You ask, and the girl nods.

"Yup!"

"Anything I want? Anything at all?"

"Mhm! And Mr. Lunch Rush is super quick too, so you won't even have to wait that long for your food!"

"Sure," you scoff. Even in a world full of super powered individuals, you still found it hard to believe that someone could cook food as fast as your friend claimed. You hadn't heard Gordon Ramsay say jack about the guy. "I'll believe it when I see it."

See and believe you most certainly did.

You ended up requesting one of your Mami's signature dishes, partly because you could use the little reminder of home but also because you wanted to see just how good this Lunch Rush dude really was. You knew just how difficult the dish was to cook. Your Mami only made it on special occasions, afterall, and it was an unspoken rule that nobody was to enter the kitchen when she was at work.

Not even your mom, a pro hero, would dare step foot in such a sacred space.

Not unless she wanted to face the wrath of her wife (read: no dessert).

What you were expecting to be a challenge for the chef-like hero turned out to be just the opposite. Lunch Rush had practically whipped the dish up in less than five minutes, and your eyes nearly popped from their sockets as you watched the man move like a blur throughout the kitchen. Some quick chops here, a dabble of spice there, and voila! Dish complete!

You were too in awe to notice the smug smile your fellow American sent your way.

After thanking the hero for the meal (while also adding him to your steadily growing list of People to Protect), your blonde friend grabs her own grub and leads you over to a table by the far wall of the cafeteria. There's already someone sat in one of the seats. Back turned towards you two, there's not much you can make out from behind them other than their hair, black and pulled back along their scalp. Your lips quirk upwards as soon as you spot the small braid resting at the base of the other student's head.

Who knew braids could be cute?

"Hi Rin!" The blonde beside you chirps to the figure sat by themselves. Not for long, though, as the girl immediatly takes a seat beside them, her lunch tray plopping down onto the table not long after. She motions for you to sit in the seat across from her, and you do so without complaint.

The mystery person looks up from their food, recognizing the no doubt familiar voice. "Hey Pony," he greets, though he seems less than excited to see the girl. Instead he levels her with a look, like a parent about to scold their child. "I thought you agreed to meet me after you went to the library. We were supposed to clean the dorm up together, remember?"

You think you see your fellow American gulp.

Her eyes flicker all over the place, glancing everywhere but at the boy beside her as she chuckles nervously. "Whaaaaaat? We were supposed to do thaaaat?"

The other student is less than impressed. "Yes, Pony, we were."

"Oh my gosh, no waaaaaaay! I tooootally forgot all about that, ahahaha, silly meee!"

"Don't lie, Pony." The boy narrows his eyes. "I know you remembered."

Your friend stutters, no doubt trying to find a believable excuse, when her gaze suddenly lands on you and she practically lunges at the opportunity to introduce you. "Omg, Rin! Look who I have here, do you see?! This is my new friend! We met in the library! SAY HI!"

Rin shakes his head at the girl, mildly disappointed by her hasty attempt to change the subject. He eventually turns to you, though, lips curled in a sheepish smile. He was a bit embarrassed since you'd just witnessed him scolding his classmate like a total mom, not to mention he'd ignored you while doing so (which was incredibly rude by his standards). Really, though, you hadn't minded in the slightest.

Free food and a show? 

"Hello," the boy greets politely, and you accept his offered handshake. "I'm Hiryu Rin, one of Pony's classmates. It's nice to meet you."

"Ditto," you respond. The hand clasped within yours is cold, you notice right away. You guess it might have to do with his quirk, the narrow pupils and thick sweater he had on not being lost on you. You smile at the boy in earnest as you add, "I like your little braid, by the way. It's cute."

Rin blinks, his face tinting with just a bit of color. He hadn't expected a compliment, much less one like that. "Oh, um, thank you..."

"No problem," you say as your hands unlink. You then turn your attention towards the blonde sitting beside him, who grows uneasy at the wide grin you toss her way. "Pony, huh? As in like a horse?"

Fists clenched, you make a stampeding motion through the air with your imaginary hooves.

Your fellow American only blinks at you, confused.

So you neigh.

"Oh my gooosh," she complains, hands shielding her blushing face. "Stooooop!"

You continue to make horse noises at the girl, only stopping to cackle when she starts crumpling up napkins to throw at you in retaliation. Rin eventually puts a stop to that, pointing out that either one of you was gonna have to pick up whatever mess was made, and things settle as the three of you start to chow down.

Pony and you would talk in between bites of food. You two primarily lead the conversation with the occasional chime from Rin every now and then. You weren't sure if the guy was shy or if he just didn't have much to say, but tried your best to coerce him out of his shell, asking him questions about various things to try and see if you both had anything in common. He seemed like a cool guy to you.

Plus, any friend of your bubbly American buddy instantly made it good in your books.

After some investigation, you eventuallly learned three things: he liked sushi, he was from China, and yes, his quirk was reptilian based like you'd guessed. You decide to latch onto that last fact and ask further. Seeing as you both were in the Hero Course, talking about each other's quirks seemed like the simplest way to bond.

"Dragon Shroud, huh?" You say, mouth slightly full as you chew. You were probably practicing some real bad manners, but Rin didn't seem to even notice (you got the feeling he was used to it). Curious, your head tilts at the other student. "So you grow scales on your body?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Rin says with a nod. "They're pretty sturdy, and if need be I can shed them to shoot at enemies."

"Damn," you marvel. Pausing momentarily from where you're about to take another bite into your food, you flash the boy a smile. "Sounds like you've got it made in both offense and defence. That's really cool, dude! I bet it gives you a real advantage out on the field, huh?"

Rin flusters, unsure how to handle the compliment as he rubbed at his neck bashfully. Talking to you was a bit like meeting Pony for the first time all over again.

Were all Americans like this?

"Thank you," the boy says. Despite being naturaly cold-blooded, he wasn't sure how to feel about the sudden warmth he was starting to feel all over. Not wishing to come up with some sort of fever, he redirects the conversation back to you. Tuggin at his sweater collar, he asks, "Um, w-what about you? I'm sure your quirk is pretty useful out there too."

You shrug. "I mean, I try my best with what I've got. It's nothing super fancy, though, all I do is just—"

"OH MY GOSH!"

You and Rin both turn to Pony, her sudden exclamation putting a grinding halt to your previous conversation. The blonde had been eating quietly, happy to let her two friends get to know one another. Now, though, her hands clasp her face as she stares right at you, blue eyes tinted with horror and worry.

You and Rin send a glance towards each other, unsure.

"Pony?' The boy questions. "Everything alri—"

"I totally forgot to ask for you name!" The blonde bemoans, her tone colored with sadness and regret. "I'm so so so so sorry! We've been hanging out since hours ago and I didn't even notice until now! Ugh, I KNEW I was forgetting something!"

You snicker as the girl as she smacks her head in a duh! gesture, meanwhile Rin only raises an eyebrow. "Oh... Is that all?"

"What do you mean 'is that all'?!" Pony huffs, offended. "Rin, don't you know it's like, super rude not to ask someone their name when you first meet them?"

"Of course I know. I'm just surprised it took you so long to realize."

Pony gasps, a betrayed sound. Finger outstretched towards her classmate, she points out (both literally and figuratively), "Hey, I don't remember YOU asking for their name either!"

Her classmate opens his mouth to retort, but falls short when he realizes she's right. His face grows warm. "That's... True."

You can't help but laugh at the two, nearly choking on your dinner as you do so. "Guy's, it's cool," you assure, grinning as they turn to you with various levels of embarressment. "It's honestly kinda my fault anyway. You guys didn't ask for my name, sure, but it's not like I bothered to tell you— or even asking for yours."

Honestly, the idea of exchanging names had escaped you up until now. Maybe you'd just been to immersed in your conversations, or maybe you were just a bit of a dumbass. Either way, you weren't about to have your two new friends blame themselves for something you could have just as easily prevented.

In the end, the three of you decide to go around and have everyone say their name one at a time. Rin hadn't seen the point, wondering why you alone didn't just introduce yourself, but Pony had been too excited by the thought of the mini icebreaker for him to actually shut the idea down. You didn't fault the guy at all. From what you've learned, that girl could be as stubborn as her namesake.

Is that how the saying actually goes? No.

Did you care? Also no.

"Hiryu Rin," the boy offers, slightly exasperated but going along with it anyway.

Pony clears her throat, head held high as she says, "Pony Tsunotori! A.K.A., your new best friend!"

You snort at the wink she sends your way. Mimicking her posture, you take a deep breath and say, "Right, and I'm [_____] King! But you guys can go ahead and just call me [_____] if you want. It's kinda weird to hear myself get called King all the time, and I dunno if that kind of thing is good for my ego."

You snicker at your own joke.

Nobody joins you.

It didn't concern you too much. It wasn't like you'd spewed comedy gold or anything, afterall, but you had at least expected a small pity laugh. Concern only starts to grow in your gut when you look up at your new friends, both of whom are silent as stone. Both stare at you with something akin to shock. Pony's blue eyes are blown out, her lower jaw hanging low as she gawks at you. Meanwhile Rin's slit-like pupils appear even smaller as his eyes widen a concerning amount. The boy doesn't even bat an eye when his chopsticks fall from his limp grasp, and you take that as your cue to say something.

"Uh... You guys good or what?"

Rin's mouth opens and closes, clearly wanting to say something but having no idea how to put his thoughts into words. "You... Y-your name—"

"King?" Pony interrupts. Though her expression was still one of shock, there's a tint of awe in her eyes as her pupils begin to grow the longer she stares at you. "[_____] King? That's your name?"

Ah shit, you thought, dread starting to claw its way up within you.

When you'd agreed to transfer schools, you'd done so with two goals in mind: getting away from family drama, and trying to distance yourself from your mother's shadow. You'd already checked that first goal off the list. You were a whole ocean away, afterall, so you considered that task complete. That last goal, though...

Well, your mom cast a pretty big shadow, being America's #3 hero and all.

You'd hoped that your mom's reputation in Japan would be miniscule at most seeing as the people of the country had their own ranking heros to fawn over. After staying there for at least a week and not getting recognized, you'd been pretty confident of your chances of flying under the radar.

Up until now, anyways.

You scratch your neck, nervous as you tell your friends, "Umm, yeah, about that... Could you guys maybe do me a favor and maybe... Not bring up my mom? Or tell anyone we're related? I mean, I'm not ashamed of her or anything if that's what you're thinking. I was just, uh, kinda hoping to let people get to know me for me and not treat me differently just because I'm her kid, y'know?"

Both other students blink at your request. They glance at one another for a quick second, their shocked features contorting with confusion, before their attention is once again aimed at you.

"Uh, sure," says Rin, gazing at you like you'd asked him something in a foriegn language and he'd just said yes out of reflex. From her seat beside her classmate, Pony slowly bobs her head in a nod, not sure what to say.

"Thanks guys," you breathe out in relief.

Dinner continues from there, though the atmosphere has shifted in a way you're unable to pinpoint. Conversation is lacking. Much to your disappointment, Rin had seemingly receeded right back into his shell, the boy staring down at his food and only offering polite nods or shrugs when you tried to talk to him. Even Pony had become a bit quiet. The usually bubbly blonde wouldn't look you in the eye, her gaze flickering around as she fiddled with her hair. She seemed nervous or distracted all of a sudden.

When all food had been picked off your dish (it wasn't exactly like how your Mami made it but it was still delicious), the three of you walk together towards the dorms. The sky had become a light purple color and air is chill around you, various streetlamps illuminating the paths around campus as the last slivers of sunlight disappear past the horizon.

You wave goodbye to your two friends as you walk up the stairs to your dormitory's entrance. Only Pony waves back to you, her smile small and uncertain. You can't help but steal a glance towards the side where the 2-B dorm building sat. You were happy to know that the two second year classes would be living near one another. It would definitely make attending your fellow American's anime nights much easier.

You shut the door behind you and head towards your room to unpack your furniture, unaware that you leave your soulmates at the door.

After standing outside the building and staring after your retreating figure like two lost puppies, Pony and Rin eventually go back to their own dormitory. The two are silent as they enter the building. The place is spotless thanks to Rin's deep cleaning, though the boy doesn't have it in him to berate his classmate for her earlier lack of assistance, too lost in thought as he takes a seat on one of the living room couches. All he'd done was eat dinner and yet he was so utterly exhausted.

...Meeting you probably had something to do with that.

He watches as Pony heads towards the fridge, almost robotic as she swings the door open and stares at the sparse amount of items inside. It's unclear what she's feeling, her back towards her classmate as the blonde is illuminated by the fridge's indoor lightling system.

"We just had dinner," Rin reminds his classmate. When the girl doesn't answer, only continuing to stare at the fridge's contents for a long while, Rin becomes concerned. "Pony?"

Eventually, the blonde turns towards her classmate.

She's blushing.

"They're really cute," the girl admits quietly, a stary look in her saphire eyes.

Rin blinks. "What?"

"Um—!" Embarrassed, Pony flushes further and hastily fills herself a glass of milk, practically slamming the fridge door shut and scurrying towards the stairs. "G-goodnightRinseeyoutomarrow!"

Her classmate is left in the dust. The bewildered boy grimaces, the powerful stomps of the blonde's hooves booming through the (otherwise quiet) building as she thunders up the stairs. There's a loud slam! of her bedroom door. Rin has half the mind to reprimand his friend for the noise, but...

With a sigh, Rin slinks further back into the couch. A million thoughts run through his head as he stares off into the dark corners of the living area. A hand reaches up towards the spot just between his right shoulder and collarbone, fingertips gingerly rubbing at the name etched into the skin underneath his thick sweater.

God...

And here he thought his second year was going to be as uneventful as the first.

Chapter Text

When awoke the next morning, you couldn't help but marvel at your dorm's high ceiling. Why was it all the way up there? Who told the ceiling it could do that?

Then you realized your matress was literally on the floor and suddenly things made a lot more sense.

Coming into your dorm last night had definitely been... An expirience. Mostly because the second you strolled through your bedroom doorway, you immediatly landed face-first on the floor. A quick investigation had revealed a large carboard box to be the culprit, and a quick scan of your room had made it clear that it wasn't the last of itss kind. All your furniture and other belongings had arrived like Nezu said, and you were pleasantly surpised to find that all your stuff was delivered straight into your dorm rather than left to sit out in the hall or (heaven forbid) downstairs.

You then spent a good amount of time trying to unpack all your things and set up your dorm. Emphasis on try.

Maybe it was because you'd just had a hearty meal, or the fact that your day had been so eventful, but either way you had found yourself pretty exhausted last night. It probably didn't help that you just couldn't find any damn scissors to open you packages. Eventually, after attempting to rip open the boxes with your bare teeth, you soon gave up and decided to hit the hay.

If you chose to sleep on your matress with the plastic covering still on, well, that was your business and nobody else's.

After some stretches and a quick good morning text to your family, you get yourself ready for the day. You were glad that while U.A. was pretty strict on the whole school uniform situation, you wouldn't have to follow any dresscodes for the next few days. Until school officially started, foriegn students on campus were allowed to dress freely— something you greatly appreciated. It definitely made being lazy much easier.

Anybody who wanted to say shit about you wearing your pajamas to school was just jealous that your were living in luxury.

With your morning routine finished (you spent about 15 minutes picking shreds of ductape from your teeth), you head out towards the school cafeteria. If you timed it right, you'd be able to catch up with your two new friends and maybe join them for breakfast. You were still uncertain what had caused them to grow so quiet during yesterday's dinner, but hopefully whatever it'd been had blown over during the course of the night and you wouldn't have to worry. Besides your new pals, though, you were also excited to see Lunch Rush. Afterall, now that you knew of the man's god-like prowress in the kitchen, you were guaranteed to abuse that power to your best ability.

The miniscule amount of students already in the cafeteria lets you know that you're among the early risers. One good look at the short breakfast line has you pumping your fist in victory, and you don't have to wait long before you're rattling off your order to the Pro behind the counter with excitement. Practically drooling as he hands you a tray of the breakfast meal of your dreams, you turn to peruse the cafeteria in search of your fellow foriegn companions.

You eventually spot them at the same table from last night. This time, though, they sat across from each other rather than side-by-side. With the way they were positioned, upper bodies leaning over the tabletop as they crowd one another, you'd think they were sharing some sort of secret.

The moment you stroll up beside their table, their whispered conversation is instantly put to a halt. Eyes wide like they'd been caught exhanging some juicy gossip, your friends attempt to adopt an air of nonchalance, leaning away from each other as they settle back into their seats. Though you're curious, you don't bother questioning their behavior. Not like it was any of your business.

Let them have their secrets.

"Hey," you greet with a smile, watching as your two friends appraise you with contrasting levels of enthusiasm.

Pony seems to have reverted back to her usual self. Armed with a smile sweeter than honey, the blonde waves at you, her ocean eyes glittering like the sea on a sunny day. The tension you hadn't realized you were carrying is drained from your body at the sight. You're releaved your friend was back to normal, at the very least, meanwhile her classmate...

Rin still wouldn't quiet look you in the eyes. Though you were a tad disappointed, you figured it couldn't be helped. It probably just took him a while to get used to new people. He'd come to you when he was ready.

"Heeeeeey Bestie!" Pony chirps, waving at you despite the fact that you were literally a foot away. As you smile at her over-the-top greeting, she hops out of her seat and reaches over to the free chair beside her own, pulling it out like a gentleman. "Here, come sit!

The gesture has you blinking in surprise, but you accept it all the same. You bow like royalty, sliding into your offered seat with a jokingly polite, "Why thank you."

Pony's hands clap with joy, looking far too excited about the fact that you sat in a chair. 

What.

"...Wait a minute," you start as the blonde as she returns to her own seat, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. Your eyes narrow suspiciously. "Did something happen in this chair? What's wrong with it?" You gasp, horrified. "Is it like that water fountain your friend licked last year? Holy shit, Pony, did someone LICK THIS CHAIR?!"

Out of all the people to betray you like this, never in a million years would you have expected it to be your bubbly blonde bestie.

Damn... Done dirty by your fellow American?

How unpatriotic.

Pony flounders for a bit, flustered at your suggestion as well as your betrayed expression. She was just trying to be smooth like the guy in Youtube video told her to, that's all! Ugh, she KNEW she shouldn't have listened to him! Anybody that confident in a fedora was literally setting her up for failure!

Luckily for the girl, her classmate is quick to diffuse the situation.

"It's nothing like that," Rin assures you, still not meeting your gaze. Instead his eyes are fixed on Pony, eyes stern like he was reprimanding the the girl for something you weren't aware of. "Pony's just feeling a little energetic today, that's all."

You hum at that. Your eyes land on the tray of the girl beside you, the sight of a large stack of fluffy pancakes greeting you in return. They're topped with various fruits and absolutely drenched in syrup. You raise an eyebrow at your blonde friend and ask, "Should you be eating those?"

"I'm fine," Pony says indignatly. "I'm a big girl, I can obviously handle a little sugar!"

Your eyes dart to where her hooves are jostling against the floor. "Riiiiiight."

Embarassed, Pony immediatly apologizes and forces her legs to still. When you assure her you didn't mind the noise, the girl smiles at you, a light flush on her cheeks. "Sorry! I'm not trying to be annoying or whatever, I just—"

Her cheeks flush a darker shade as she looks away. "...I'm really happy to see you."

The confession is soft-spoken, almost like a secret, and you nearly clutch your heart at the pangs those words send through you. She had no right being so sweet, what the hell?

"I'm happy to see you too, Pony." You beam at the girl, unaware of how fast her heart begins to race as you lean over and jostle her shoulder with yours. "D'awww, and here I thought those pancakes were the only sweet thing around here, haha!"

It's a playful little remark. Something you were comfortable doing with the blonde now that the two of you were close enough.

What you don't know is that you nearly knock the girl unconcious with those words alone.

Thankfully, instead of dropping dead and faceplanting into her pancakes (omg, she would totally die if that happened), Pony merely grows several shades redder. It feels as if all the blood in her body has migrated towards her face. Her skin feels hot enough to fry an egg, and it only grows hotter when Rin glances over at her in clear concern.

Thank God you've already turned your attention towards your food. She doubts she'd be able to explain why she looked like a tomato without seeming suspicious.

From there, breakfast goes by without much fanfare. You and Pony chat together throughout your meal, your conversation straying from one topic to another, all the while Rin sits quietly across from the both of you. You don't make much attempt to bring him into the conversation since you doubt he felt like saying much, and neither does Pony. She probably sensed that her classmate wasn't in the mood.

Eventually, your tray of food has been picked completely clean, and Pony's is the same. As the two of you stand from your seats and prepare to dispose of your trash, your blonde friend glances over at the boy sat across the table and tilts her head curiously. "Are you sure you don't wanna come with us, Rin?"

Your fellow American had offered to show you around the school after you (regretfully) recounted how you ended up lost yesterday. She claimed that both Nezu and Aizawa hadn't done a good enough job showing you around and that she would "show you how a school tour is REALLY done!"

(She then promptly told you to never repeat those words to the two males again because they "totally freak me out".) 

Rin momentarily glances up at the offer, but his eyes otherwise stay fixed on his meal as he uses a pair of chopsticks to poke through his rice. "Uh. It's alright, Pony, I'm good. You guys have fun though."

The blonde's expression falls with disappointment. "Oh... You sure? It'll be fun!"

As the girl tries to convince her classmate to join the two of you, Rin grows visible more uncomfortable, which in turn makes you uncomfortable. Deciding to play Good Cop and help the boy out, you hip-check the girl stood beside you and say, "Jesus, Pony, just let the man enjoy his rice already."

Pony flusters at your intervention, eyes darting from Rin to you and back again. "B-But—!"

"No buts," you say with a shake of your head. "You promised me a tour, remember? You better hurry up and start it already because I'm getting booooooored." Your voice lilts teasingly with that last word, and you begin lightly swaying from side-to-side as if you were about to pass out from boredom.

She hesitates for a bit, but eventually the thought of keeping you waiting is just too strong for her to dispute. With a sigh, she sends a look towards her classmate and asks, "You'll come hang out with us after lunch though, right?"

Rin looks like he's about to decline that offer too, but the hopeful look in his blonde friend's eyes is enough to give him pause. His eyes flicker over to you for a brief second (you're currently attempting to pick out a piece of food from between your teeth with your pinky), and he can't help but wonder how someone like you could manage to make him feel so uneasy and unsure.

Well... He knew exactly why, but still.

Eventually, the boy relents.

"Fine," he sighs, defeated. "I'll go."

"Alright!" Pony cheers. She beams at her classmate, practically bouncing in place with how happy she is. You take that as your cue and wordlessly head off to a nearby trashcan with your tray, your blonde friend following behind you. She throws one last glance towards the boy at the table and chirps, "Bye, Rin! We'll see you at lunch, okay? Same place and everything!"

"Yeah," Rin mutters to himself. His eyes follow the two Americans as they dump their trash and exit the cafeteria. The second you're out of sight, all the tension he'd been carrying throughout breakfast floods from his body as he sighs.

"See you later..."

When Pony had offered to give you an official full, in-depth tour of U.A., you'd expected something along the lines of what she'd done yesterday-- pointing out various places and areas within the school that probably had more personal meaning than anything and providing little anecdotes that made you wonder just what kind of shit class 1-B got up to last year.

And to be fair, that's pretty much exactly what happened. The only difference being that Pony pointedly made an effort to bring up one or two of her classmates at every available opportunity. Whether it was something small like a recently repainted wall or something completely out of left field like what area had the best natural lighting for selfies (third floor staircase on the west side), anything and everything could be connected back to someone in class 2-B.

"Ooh, this is the poster for the Anime Club! My friend Fukidashi drew it up! Isn't he just super talented?"

"This is the school gardens! They're super cool because the school lets us grow our own stuff here! Shiozaki had some flowers over there last year and Kodai even grew her own tomatos. She really likes them for some reason?"

"Oh my gosh, those stairs? Right there? Tetsutetsu literally went FLYING down them last year, you should have seen it! Oh no, he was okay! He activated his quirk just in time so it didn't hurt him a whole lot. But oh my gosh, it was SOOOO loud! He was like CLANG CLANG CLANG—! "

Your heart went out to that Tetris guy. That shit sounded embarrassing.

Overall, the tour was fun. You were grateful that Pony was there with you to show you around (you definitely would have gotten lost again if it weren't for her), and the blonde seemed to be having just as much fun as you were. Completely in her element, she knew exactly what she was doing and you doubted that the girl would ever steer you wro—

"And this is my favorite bathroom!"

Damn. Spoke too soon.

The declaration is said quiet loudly all things considered, and you awkwardly glance over at the student who's heading down the hallway in your direction. They raise an eyebrow at the two of you, and you just hope that they're only curious about the noise and don't understand English.

"Oh, uh..." You trail off, unsure as your fellow American smiles at you expectantly. The two of you stand in a relatively empty hallway, a set of doors sat before you. They looked like your everyday standard set of gender-seperated public restrooms, but for whatever reason the blonde beside you felt the need to specifically make a stop at them in the middle of your tour.

Said blonde was now gazing at you expectantly, as if expecting you to express your thoughts on her choice of lavitory, but like...

What the hell were you even supposed to say in the first place?

"...Why?" Is what you end up going with. Pony (bless her heart) somehow interprets the question as you showing a geniune interest in the story behind her choice instead of what you really meant it to be.

Concern.

With a prideful puff of her chest, your friend waves an arm towards the restrooms in a dramatic flourish and says, "Because rarely anybody ever uses it, obviously! I get the whole place all to myself most of the time, which is great because it totally gives me the chance to do... Things."

The implications of the girl's sentence does NOT go over you head. Face gaining color, you stutter, "U-um—"

"It's the perfect place to read in between classes!"

You blink. "Excuse me."

Pony nods encouragingly. "Yeah, it gets super quiet in there, even during passing periods. I think maybe the walls are soundproofed or something? I don't know, but anyways it's a really cool spot! You should totally try it sometime!"

"Try what?" You raise an eyebrow at the girl, incredulous. "Reading in the bathroom?"

"Well duh, what else?"

Holy shit.

You don't hold back as you facepalm, head shaking as your shoulders tremble with the giggles you attempt to silence. "Pony, please tell me you're kidding."

"What? Hey, ugh, don't laugh! It's literally not funny!"

"You just admitted to me that you like to spend your passing periods reading books in an abandoned bathroom, this is nothing BUT funny," you snort, a shit-eating grin splitting your face in two. "Why don't you just read in your dorm room? Y'know. Like a normal person."

"The dorms are like, on the other side of campus! I'd probably be late to class by the time I got there."

"Okay then what about the library?"

"I mean I guess? But like, that's where everyone else goes to read though. I don't get a lot of privacy there."

"Um," you begin, the girl in question flushing lightly as your eyes skeptically roam her from head-to-toe, "do I wanna know what you're reading that you'd need the privacy of an empty bathroom to feel comfortable in?"

You laugh as your blonde friend swats at you, your suggestive tone leaving her embarrassed and red in the face. "Shut up! It is SO not like that, I swear!"

"Suuuuuuuure," you say, sarcasm dripping off your every word. "I believe you, mhmm."

"Hmph!"

With a huff, Pony tugs you along with her as she heads away from her favored restroom, her head pointedly turned away from your snickering self as the two of you make you way down the hall to presumably the next destination of your tour. "Whatever, laugh all you want! But just so you know, I've never told anyone about that place before. You're literally the first person to know about it. Nice to know my new bestie is super ungrateful!"

"Awww, I'm the first?" You croon playfully, a dopey smile on your face. "You big dork, that is so cringe."

"Ugh, stop," you friend whines.

"But that's okay," you continue. You lean your head against her shoulder, too busy chuckling to yourself to notice how she lightly jumps at the contact. "I still like you just the way you are. Cringe and everything."

"O-oh..." Pony giggles shakily, her skin flushing bright pink from the tip of her head all the way down to her neck. She had originally planned to drag out the whole "being mad at you" bit for a little longer, but...

How the heck was she supposed to stay (pretend) angry when you said and did things like that?!

Ugh, you were seriously too cute for your own good! One of these days you were totally gonna kil her. If not from causing all the blood in her body to rush to her head multiple times a day, then proabably from the sudden heart attack she was sure to suffer from your sugary sweet words.

The two of you continue your way throughout the halls of U.A., though at this point your tour had been long forgotten (read: you'd linked your arm with Pony's and the girl's train of though went bye-bye). Now you and your friend simply roamed the halls together, chatting leisurely as you both stolled past classroom after classroom. You'd ask each other about family, what American snacks you missed the most, favorite hotties heroes, etc.

At one point you even inquired about your soon-to-be classmates, but unfortunately there wasn't much to be said that you didn't already know.

"Our classes didn't really get to interact a lot? I mean like, we went to training camp together and got to fight in a training excersice once, but that's all I can remember," Pony told you apologetically. "Sorry."

You waved off her concern. "It's cool, Bestie, don't worry about it." Bumping your shoulder against hers playfully, you grin and say, "What about your classmates then? What are they like?"

Boy, did that question set your fellow American off.

The second the words left your mouth, it was as if the floodgates had been swung open and you were immediatly swarmed with information about all the soon-to-be heroes training alongside your horse-like companion. You could only watch and listen as Pony ranted about her friends passionately, her hands waving enthusiastically as she spouted off what was probably several wikipedia pages worth of trivia and fun facts.

Kodai likes those little Russian dolls that open up and eat other Russian dolls!

Nirengeki is really into boxing!

Kendou is the class representative! Nobody is sure if she's actually ginger or if her hair is just like that!

Juzo is kinda sensitive about his teeth, so maybe don't stare too much?

That last one definitely left you with some questions.

The two of you are in the middle of discussing the 2-B students' zodiac signs when you turn a corner and end up in a corridor you remember from the day before. Thanks to the multitude of reinforced steel doors, you easily recognize U.A's Support Labs. Your interest is immediatly pigued. Gaze scanning the row of entrances, you subtly begin leading your blonde friend towards the lab of your choice.

"Tokage and Tetsu are both Libras but like, to varying degrees? And Shishida is obviously a Gemini I mean, c'mon-- Mm!"

Pony is left wide-eyed when you suddenly silence her ranting by placing a finger against her lips. Cheeks warm, she's terrified for a breif moment, thinking you'd grown annoyed by her constant chatter. Oh my gosh, she'd totally drop dead if she knew you ever found her obnoxious or something!

But then you wordlessly bring a finger up to your own lips, a mishevious glimmer in your eyes as you smile. You motion for her to follow and, curious, Pony watches as you start to silently creep along the wall. Not knowing what else to do, the blonde follows your lead.

You lead your friend down the end of the hall, towards the one Support Lab with its entree way wide open. Once there, you peer inside briefly, grinning at what you see.

Pony, on the other hand, only grows confused when you suddenly stand straight and take a deep breath. You roll your neck and wring your hands, as if hyping yourself a big speech or something, and the blonde can only blink at the pep in your step as you casually stroll right into the lab like you were meant to be there. Pony scrambles to follow.

"Best Frieeeeend," you sing-song with a cheshire grin, shoulders shimmying as you greet the boy organizing his tools.

Said boy seemingly beyond pissed at your entrance if the scowl on his face as anything to go by.

"Diyos ko, patayin mo na lang ako," Bākōdo mutters angrily, thumb and index finger raised to rub at his temple. And here he was, enjoying his day and relishing in his undisturbed peace and quiet.

How fucking foolish of him.

"Get the hell out," the boy demands, but just like yesterday, you easily ignore him as your gaze wanders the perimeter of his lab.

"How's that prosthetic you were working on?" You ask. Coming to a stop at the worktable the Support student is situated at, you lean a hip against the top counter and tilt your head at the boy curiously. "Did you get to finish it yesterday or is still a work in progress?"

Bākōdo heaves a sigh. Knowing that you likely weren't going to leave if he didn't answer your stupid question (in fact he was sure you'd do everything in your power to annoy the shit out of him), the boy reveals, "I'm almost finished with it, but I've decided to put the project on hold for now."

"Oh no, why?"

"I've run out of neccessary parts." As he speaks, Bākōdo returns to his earlier task and begins putting whatever tools or parts he has laying around back where they belong. As he travels from one end of his lab to the other, he adds, "Obviously I've already put in a request to the school, so I should have them in about a week or so."

"Who's the prosthetic for?" Pony pipes up, only to jump when Bākōdo whirls around from where he's placing some screws in a drawer. The boy stares at her for a moment, gaping as if he can't believe what he's seeing, and the blonde begins to sweat under the instense gaze.

Finally, the support student tears his eyes away from the girl only to round on you instead. He looks deeply offended for some reason, and you can't help but snicker.

"First you barge in like you own the damn place, and now you're starting to bring in random people like it's some sort of fucking house party?" Bākōdo growls. You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "What next, you gonna start using my space to work on your own dumbass projects?!"

"Of course not," you assure the boy, expression twisted in a grimace. "I'm not smart enough for that."

"Tell me something I don't know," he grumbles.

Meanwhile, Pony shuffles her feet (hooves?) and glances at the support student with an apologetic frown. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Am I like, not supposed to be in here? I can totally leave if you want."

Both you and Bākōdo stare at the girl, surprised. You were shocked by the blonde's blunt politeness, meanwhile the shorter student was just shocked that the girl even knew what manners were, nontheless how to use them. He pretty much assumed that any friend of yours would be just like you.

Rude and annoying as hell.

Eventually the shock subsides and the boy raises a hand at the girl. "No, you're alright," he assures. "You're free to stay, at least until your friend here decides to do me the honor of leaving and never coming the fuck back."

Though he doesn't smile, the tone of voice Bākōdo uses is probably the least angry you've ever heard him. Hell, it was almost polite.

You move an arm in front of your fellow American, shielding her protectively as your eyes narrow at the Support Course student in suspicion. "What do you want."

Bākōdo sneers. "Excuse me?"

"You're being way too nice right now and it's weird as hell. So fess up, Short Stack, what do you want?"

"Don't—" Bākōdo points a screwdriver at you menacingly— "ever fucking call me that again, first off. Second off, I'm not trying to swindle anything from your friend, calm hell down. I'm just being civil."

A laugh explodes from your chest, short and sharp, before you level the boy with a flat look. "Funny joke."

Rolling his eyes, the male student turns his back to you as he starts collecting scraps of metal from around the lab. "Believe what you want, dumbass, I have nothing to prove to you."

"Well I mean, you're never civil with me."

"That's because the first time we met you did everything in your power to make me fucking miserable, dipshit."

From her spot sheltered behind your arm (which she may or may not have swooned at), Pony gasps lightly and turns to you, gaping as if she didn't want to believe what she was hearing. "You bullied him? Bestie why?"

You stumble to defend yourself. "Wha— I didn't bully him—!"

"You invaded my person space, called me names, and interogatted me in my own lab."

"I only asked for your name!"

"Yeah, and you were really mean about it."

Pony shakes her head at you, dissappointed, and crosses her arms. "You are so unbelievable. I literally can't with you right now."

Though his back was towards you, you knew for a FACT that Bākōdo was smirking like the little troll he was. And you'd be right, of course. Though it may not have been exactly the kind of revenge he had in mind (there wasn't nearly enough violence in his humble opinion), he still relished in your misery nontheless.

Vengence was so sweet.

Meanwhile, in the midst of you trying to defend you honor to your fellow American, another presence appeared in the doorway of the short boy's lab.

Said student sighed in annoyance, the telltale sound of footsteps entering his workspace no stranger to him at this point. Fuck, at this rate the entirety of U.A.'s foriegn student population will have been inside his lab by the end of the day! The boy turns, a number of sharp curses on his tongue, but stops short once he recognizes the figure at the door.

"Power Loader Sensei," the boy greets with a bow.

The familiar name is enough for Pony to pause as she's reprimanding you for your behavior. The both of you turn towards the man in question. You do a serious doubletake at the sight of the guy, however, because holy shit was that a Transformer?

Oh, nope, false alarm.

He just had a huge ass excavator claw on his head.

Also he was shirtless?

(And here you thought you'd seen your fair share of weird hero costumes.)

Both you and Pony bow to the man as well, and you look over the guy as you go through your mental ecyclopedia of U.A.'s staff. Not that it took too long since the guy's costume already made it pretty obvious who he was.

Power Loader. Head of the Support Course. Small, small man with bad, bad posture (maybe it was the helmet?)

The Pro seems to pause at the lab's doorway, seemingly surprised by the presence of both Hero Course students. Eventually, he shakes his head with a chuckle. "You letting guests into your lab now, Bākōdo? That's definitely a first."

"They're not guests," Bākōdo says, a pointed glare aimed your way. " Somebody just thinks it's okay to barge in whenever the hell they want."

"Well, nonetheless, I'm glad they're keeping you company. Whatever it takes to get you over your anti-social tendencies."

Crossing his arms, the support student grumbles, "I'm not anti-social."

The three others in the room are silent as they glance at one another, skepticism written all over their faces.

The short man shakes his head, briefly turning away from the boy to acknowledge you and your fellow American instead. He appraises Pony with a nod. "Pony, it's nice to see you. Have a nice break?"

"Hi Mr. Power Loader!" The blonde replies with an enthusiastic wave of her hand. "My break was super great! It was nice to be back home again. How about you?"

"Eh, break was pretty good, nonthing to really complain about. I managed to teach my cat some new tricks," the man reveals with a small laugh, seeming quite proud of himself.

"Aw, so you're still single?"

"..."

A small snort escapes past your nose before you can stop it, and your expression swiftly schools itself into something nuetral as the bite-sized Pro before you tilts his large, mechanized head in your direction. Though you can't really see his eyes thanks to that cantakerous helmet of his, you get the feeling the man is able to spot the way your jaw twitches with surpressed amusement clear as day. You can practically sense the way his eyes narrow. You don't have the heart to look away.

Not that you'd need to to know that a certain support student was enjoying your little mishap (the snickering was a dead giveaway).

The Pro appraises you for a moment longer, then says, "Funny, I don't remember seeing you around before. What did you say your name was again?"

"Oh, uh—" You stifly salute the man. "[____] King, at your service Sir— uh, Sensei."

The man mutters your name under his breath a few times, large, metal-tipped fingers tapping a steady rhythm against his helmet's chin piece. Suddenly he lights up, fingers snapping (you had no idea they could do that) as he seems to have an "Ah-ha!" moment. "Right, you're that new 2-A student, huh?"

"Yup. That's me. Hi."

Suddenly you feel a weight being placed upon you, and you glance over to see Pony with her hands on your shoulders. She smiles excitedly at the Support Course instructor, squealing lightly as she says, "Isn't it great, Mr. Power Loader? They're gonna be training with us for the rest of the year!"

"Yipee," Bākōdo cheers soulessly from where he's looking over a machine in the corner.

You descreatly try to flip him off.

"Well, we can't be too sure about that," Power Loader counters. You sense his gaze turn towards you. "No offense to you or anything, Kid, but you're practically fresh off the boat. We haven't gotten to see what you're capable of yet, or if you got what it takes to keep up with the rest of your classmates. The second you start falling behind the others, well..." The man shrugs. "Let's just say Principle Nezu's already got a list of replacements going."

Pony can't help the horrified gasp that leaves her. Wait, what? Replace you?!

The blonde glances over at her friend, but her horror only grows at your lack of reaction. Like, how could you look so nonchalant?! Don't tell her you already knew about this?!

Spoiler Alert: you did.

You'd been long aware that your new spot amongst U.A.'s prospering heroes wasn't permanent in the slightest. If anything, the whole thing was just a test run. Nevermind that you came on pretty high recommendation. The school staff wanted to know that they chose right, after all, to see what you were capable of, and there was just no way of doing that unless they threw you into the fray.

Luckily for them, you were determined to prove that their time and effort hadn't been wasted.

You offer a nod to the Support Course instructor, head held high. "I'll try not to disappoint."

"I'm sure you won't." Power Loader returns your nod, then offers you a thumbs up. "Well, nonetheless, welcome to U.A., hope you enjoy your stay. I'm guessing you're already pretty familiar with the Support Course building?"

"Uh, just the labs."

"Good, that's the only area you'll need to know. Feel free to stop by anytime you want any upgrades or adjustments to your costume. Ah, speaking of which—"

You watch as the man holds up a large, chunky case for you to see. Had he been holding that the entire time? Apparenly yes.

Bākōdo looks up from where he's (suspiciously) polishing off a particularly sharp saw blade, interest obviously piqued by the case in his instructor's hand. "Is that what I think it is?"

"You bet." Power Loader ambles into the lab, stopping short (hehe) at a counter sat in the middle of the room. He plops the case down with a heavy thunk, and gets to work undoing the latches as you and the the two other students make your way over to see.

The mysterious case is opened and, as soon as your near enough, you easily recognize the contents within.

"Oh hey, my costume."

Sure enough, you find the components of your hero costume waiting for you inside the space of the large box. Compartmentailzed and insulated by hefty foam blocks, it looks just like how you last remembered it. Just like all your furniture, your costume had been one of your many items shipped off across the sea. Normally you'd have brought it yourself, but seeing as how there had been several incidents of hero costumes being stolen in order to sell their parts, the school thought it'd be best if they handled the transportation first hand.

A good call on their part. You had been flying commercial.

Without warning, Bākōdo lets out a frustrated groan. His fingers are raised to rub at his temple, and the way his brows furrow together are enough to reveal that he's less than happy.

"Wait a damn minute," he grumbles, "for the love of fucking christ, please don't tell me you brought that here because—"

Power Loader shrugs. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Kid."

You snicker at the Support Course student as he lets loose another groan. Glancing over at the Pro in the room, you ask in a mock whisper, "What's got him in such a tizzy?"

"Let's maybe not use that word in a sentence ever again," Power Loader replies, obviously unerved by your choice of vocabulary. The man tilts his head towards Bākōdo, who has his hands clasped together and resting against his forhead as he mutters quietly to himself (the guy... was fucking praying, what the hell). "I've assigned him as your costume consultant. Not that he seems too happy about that. Can't imagine why."

"Yeah, me neither," you straight up lie through your teeth. You tilt your head, curious. "What's a costume consultant exactly?"

Bākōdo looks up from where he's praying, shoulders sagging with a sigh as he seems to resign to his fate. "It means I'm in charge of your costume, dumbass."

"Let's maybe not be so mean," Power Loader says, but his student ignores him.

"I'll be the one doing general maintenance and day-to-day check ups on your costume for the rest of the school year. You'll come to me after battles or training excersices, and anytime you want adjustments or upgrades, I'll be the one you talk things over with."

"Not that you're bound to just him," the Pro in the room adds matter of factly. "Sometimes you might ask for an upgrade that's a little out of his expertise, in which case he'll refer you to someone who's more equipped to handle your request."

You nod, silent for a moment as you process this information. You had no idea U.A.'s different courses were so interconnected. Back at your old school, if you wanted an adjustment made to your costume, you usually just filled out a form of some sort. By the end of the week your suit would be good as new— and without you ever meeting the person responsible for said changes.

You could definitely appreciate U.A.'s system with hero costumes.

If not for the ease and fluidity it surely provided, then at least for the chance to annoy your favorite short stack on the daily. You grin slyly at the boy in question, eyebrows bouncing as you say, "Guess we'll be seeing each other around pretty often, huh?"

"Stop. Don't fucking remind me."

"Must be fate."

Bākōdo growls, lower eyelid twitching, but lucky for you his instructor re-enters the conversation before the boy can go all rabid raccoon on you.

"Since that prosthetic arm of yours is put on hold, Kiddo, why don't you go ahead and get a general idea of how King's costume functions? Better to get it out of the way before school starts," Power Loader points out.

Humming, Bākōdo seems to have (thankfully) forgotten his previous anger towards you as he glaces down at your costume thoughtfully. "I guess that wouldn't hurt," he says. "It would definitely give me somethin to do..."

The boy turns his attention towards you then, eyes narrowed as he gives you a once-over. "Think you can stand being NOT being an annoying piece of shit for ten minutes?"

"I mean, I guess I can try," you sigh with a shrug. "For the greater good or whatever."

"Good enough for me. What time you free tomorrow?"

You raise an eyebrow at the boy. "Moving a little fast there, Short Stack."

"I told you not to fucking—! Urgh, whatever, just meet with me at Gym Gamma after lunch tomorrow!"

"Sure," you agree easily, a smile across your lips. Your brows furrow for a moment, briefly glancing to the side in confusion. "Wait, what are we doing?"

Bākōdo heaves a sigh, beyond done with your bullshit as he scrubs at his face in frustration. "You are going to use your stupid quirk while I'm going observe. I need to see how your costume functions in action. If I spot any issues or see room for improvement, I'll note it down and we can talk about the possible fixes later."

The boy snorts, muttering under his breath, "If the costume's anywhere near as shitty as its owner, I'll definitely have my work cut out for me."

You pick up a nearby lugnut and flick it at the Support Course student, hitting him right in the forehead and relishing in the yelp he lets out.

Bullseye.

Power Loader claps his hands once, the palm of his gloves coming together with a soft paff as his metal-tipped fingers clink against each other subtly. "Welp, I see you guys have this all figured out on your own. I've got a few other students to check up on so it's all right with you guys, I'll be on my way."

Bākōdo nods to his intructor, bowing. "Of course, Sensei. Have a nice day."

The man leaves once goodbyes are exchanged, and the second he's out the door, you immediatly turn towards Bākōdo and say, "How's it feel to be just barely taller than your own teacher?"

The boy grabs the lugnut you'd hit him with earlier and chucks it at you point blank.

As you rub your shoulder (which you knew was probably bruised thanks to that little shit), Bākōdo pulls the case with your costume across the counter, closer to him. He starts sifting through the items inside. From the costume itself to your support items, he inspects each and every one, all the while muttering to himself in his native tongue.

You watch him do this for a while, silent as you ponder your conjoined plans for the next day. Curious, you ask, "So tomorrow... When you said I was gonna use my quirk, what did you mean exactly? Did you want me to just demonstrate it, Show & Tell style, or am I actually supposed to do something?"

The Support Course student gives you a flat look.

"I'm just asking," you say, hands held up in surrender.

Bākōdo rolls his eyes, attention shifting back down towards the case in front of him. "Like I said, I want to see how the costume functions when you're in action. I don't want you to just stand there and activate your quirk. Run around, climb a wall, do a fucking flip— I don't give a shit, just make sure you're moving and that you're using your quirk as much as possible."

"We could spar?"

You nearly jump out of your skin when a voice speaks over your shoulder. You whip around, and Pony stands there, hands finding your shoulders as she begins rubbing them soothingly. Her blue eyes wide with surpise, she offers you an apologetic smile as she says, "Oh, oops! Sorry, I totally didn't mean to sneak up on you like that!"

"Y-you're fine, Po, I just—" You let out a huff, hand over your chest as you try to calm you racing heart. "Jesus."

"Sorry," the blonde says again.

To be honest, the fact that the girl had been in the same room the whole time had completely slipped your mind. You might have gotten distracted by Power Loader presenting your hero costume. To be fair, though, you hadn't heard a peep from your friend since that very moment, up until now of course. It was unlike the bubbly blonde to be so silent for so long, and you have half a heart to question her unusual behavior...

Then you're brain finally processes her earlier suggestion and all previous thought goes out the window.

You turn to the girl, brows raised. "Wait, spar?"

Pony practically lights up like Christmas, a determined little smile on her face as she nods rapidly. "Yeah, totally! It'll be super cool, trust me! Just me and you, one-on-one! Mano-e-mano! Bestie vs. bestie!"

"Huh..." You can't help but smile at the idea, your fellow American's pure enthusiasm infecting you easily. You were definitely down to spar, that you knew for certain. It'd been a while since you'd had a good battle, and you were admittedly itching to thrown down. You could use the adrenaline rush.

Plus, if it was Pony you were sparring? Even better!

Seeing the girl in action, ready and poised to strike...

Pfff, like you were stupid enough to pass up on that opportunity!

"Hell yeah, I'm all for it," you laugh as you send the girl a pair of thumbs up, sending her into an excited fit as she bounces on her heels. Then you pause, glancing over at Bākōdo as he inspects one of your support items he has in his hands. "I mean, if it's all good with Professor 2nd Shortest over there."

The boy doesn't even glance your way. "I'll strangle you."

"Sure, if you can reach that high."

"Sparring is good suggestion," Bākōdo continues, glossing over your little jab (he'd just trangle you in your sleep). "Miles better than your dumbass idea, so good enough for me."

"Haha, nice!" You turn back to your blonde bestie, beaming excitedly as you put up your fists and jab at her playfully. "Better get your dance shoes ready, Po, cuz you and me are gonna tan-go tomor-row!"

Pony flushes lightly at the new nickname, giggling as she returns your faux punches with some of her own. "Yeah well you better pick out some nice funeral shoes cuz I'm totally gonna, like, bury you alive!"

Eyes wide but still sparkling as a clear sign that you enjoyed the blonde's aggressive remark, you explode with laughter and Pony feels her heart flutter at the sound.

She had been scared earlier. She'd finally found you, after all. After all those years spent hoping, daydreaming about that special someone, you were finally here! At her school! Ugh, you lived right next door for crying out loud!

So hearing that you could be sent back at any moment, if you failed to meet the high standards set up for you, and the fact that you knew and were okay with it all...

It scared her.

So she decided she was going to fight.

She wasn't going to go crying to Principle Nezu, begging for you to stay, no no no. That'd be like, totally pointless! He and the other teachers were just looking out for the school, just doing what they though was needed, and Pony understood that. No, she'll fight in other ways. She'll train with you as often as possible, help you study when there was a subject you weren't quite sure about— heck, she'll even give you massages whenever you feel sore!

(Well, she'd need to take some lessons from Honenuki first. Oh, or maybe just have him give the massages himself! Even better!)

She'd be there for you whenever you needed her to be, take time out of her schedual to be there by your side. She had a dentist appointment? She'll reschedual! She had homework? She can just do it later! She needed the bathroom? No biggie, she can totally hold it!

Whatever it took for you to continue being by not just her side, but her classmates' sides too— she'd do it in a heartbeat. Because at the end of the day, if you ever realized what you meant to her, what she meant to you...

She liked to think you'd do the same.

"Ooh, we should totally invite Rin too!" Pony suggests suddenly, a lightbulb practically going off abover her head as she grins. "He'll be super stoked to like, get some training in before school! Gotta stay in peak condition or whatever!"

"Uh." You smile at the girl, even as your head tilts with uncertainty. "I mean, sure, that'd be cool. But only if he wants to."

"Um, obviously."

You raise an eyebrow at the girl skeptically.

"Trust me, Bestie," Pony reassures, arms crossing before her boldly. Head held high, she speaks matter of factly and says, "I know Rin. He won't turn me down!"

Meanwhile, across the school, a boy shivers at the sudden chill that runs down his spine. Rin glances around his room, confused, and wonders why the hell Todoroki was already back at school.

Chapter Text

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeeeeeease?"

"No, Pony."

The blonde pauses, pouting. She's silent for a moment.

Just as Rin starts to think that's the end of it, the girl straightens her spine, sitting tall as she starts to inhale seemingly all the oxygen in the room.

Uh oh.

"Pony—"

"PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—"

Rin sighs, shoulders slumping as he sinks further into the couch cushions.

The 2-B duo had been lounging together in their dorm's shared living space, eating snacks as they watched some TV. When Pony had come up to him earlier that morning and suggested that they hung out until lunch rolled around, he'd been a bit suspicious. He would have assumed his friend wanted to spend more time with you instead, just as she's been doing for the last two days— Not that he was counting.

But as it turned out, you had business of your own to attend to that morning. Apparently your costume consultant wanted to go over some things with you, and you'd left breakfast with a wave to the other two students.

(Only one of which had bothered to return your friendly gesture.)

As rude as it may sound, your absence had been quite the relief for Rin. He readily accepted his classmate's proposal, the prospect of spending some quality time with his friend before the school year took off an enticing one. Plus, if it meant he'd be able to take his mind off of the whole... Soulmate thing, then he was more than happy to oblige.

Really, he probably should have known better.

"—EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—"

"Tsunitori," Rin interrupts firmly, gaze stern as he places a hand on the other's shoulder. Her face had slowly become more and more pink in the past few moments due to lack of oxygen, and the boy felt the need to remind the girl to, "Breath. Seriously."

As Pony spends the next few seconds restoring her breath, she glances over at the boy beside her on the couch. Hope sparkles in her blue eyes as she asks, "So you'll join us?"

"I never said that."

"Ugh!" Head thrown back onto the couch backrest, the blonde groaned, "Come on, Rin, why nooooot? I thought you liked sparring!"

"I do! I do, it's just..." Rin sighs. Glancing away from his friend's questioning gaze, he murmurs, "It's different this time, okay?"

"How?"

Rin blinks. "What?"

"How is it different?" Pony crosses her arms and levels the boy with a stare, refusing to back down, and the other student gulps as he's pinned with that unrelenting gaze. She wasn't letting this go anytime soon.

"W-well, I mean—" Rin begins, hand on the side of his neck as his fingers deftly fiddle with the small braid attached to the back of his skull. The boy refuses to make eye contact as he fumbles for some sort of explaination, slitted eyes darting to and fro as his face starts to gain color. "It's—! It's just because they're, u-uh... You know, th-they... They'reeee—"

"You can say soulmate, Rin," Pony deadpans. "It's not like it's a bad word or something."

"I-I know that!"

The blonde hums skeptically, but her flustered classmate only shakes his head, the air whizzing past him from the motion doing nothing to cool his reddened cheeks. Eventually, once he's calm enough, the boy looks his friend in the eye.

His expression holds none of that earllier uncertainty. All that's there in his eyes is a sense of stoney resolve as he says, "Then you see what I mean then, right? How it's different?"

Pony's brows furrow. "I mean... I guess? But it's not like, a bad kind of different though, right?"

The other says nothing to that.

"...Rin?"

Once again, Rin can't seem to meet the girl's eyes. He only crosses his arms, face tinged with the smallest hint of anxiousness as he looks the other way. "I don't know."

"Oh..."

Pony is silent for a moment. As her classmate's words start to sink in, so do her shoulders, the barest hint of dread crawling its way up her gut. As vague as her friend had been, she knowns the other well enough to pick up what he's trying to put down.

And gosh, does she not like the sound of it.

"You... Really don't wanna spar with us, huh?"

"It wouldn't just be sparring anymore, Pony," Rin sighs. The boy leans forward till his elbows rest on his knees, hands running along the top of his scalp as his eyes lock against his dorm building's hardwood floor. "Not if it's with them..."

The room is silent after that.

Rin shifts uncomfortably as he stares at the floor, guilt beginning to gnaw away at his gut as his friend suddenly goes quiet beside him. She doesn't offer another peep or even move a muscle, seemingly frozen there on the couch. The atmosphere was so tense, so thick— Kamakiri could probably cut right through it no problem.

Though the corner of his mouth twitches downwards at the uneasy feeling permiating through the air, Rin makes no move to lift his gaze up from where it's glued to the ground.

He had his own thoughts to sort through first.

That night he met you, after that unforgetful first dinner together, he hadn't been able to get much sleep. Really, who could blame him? He'd just found out his soulmate had transfered to his school, into the very same course, AND would now be living in the building right next door. At that point sleep was the last thing he had to worry about.

Originally, he plan was to just ignore you entirely. He understood that from an outside perspective, that thought in itself was downright cruel. Heartless, even. Who goes out of their way to ignore their soulmate right after they'd just met them? If it were someone else going through with it, he knew for a fact he'd be pretty appalled by the mere audacity.

But Rin wasn't someone else. He was him.

And he of all people knew that this whole situation wasn't as cut and dry as it seemed.

He had his whole future to worry about, for starters. He'd known that heroism was something he wanted to get into since he was young, and he wasn't naive enough to think that particular path was going to be an easy one to walk. He was sure to face mountains of adversities throughout his career. That incident at last year's training camp was proof enough of that.

If he wanted to achieve the high standard he and his family held him up to, then there was no room for distractions. That's why, as soon as he got accepted into U.A., he vowed to never let himself stray from his goal.

Naturally, your sudden appearence this school year was nothing short of a wrench thrown into his carefully crafted plan for success.

Rin understood the appeal of soulmates. He really did. He just didn't understand what he was supposed to do about YOU.

Especially considering you weren't solely his problem to deal with.

"Okay then."

Rin flinches at those soft-spoken words. Too deep in thought, he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. The boy cranes his neck up to glance at the girl sat beside him, but is taken aback by the meek smile she sends his way.

Shoulders hunched, Pony uses a finger to twirl a lock of golden hair in an almost shy manner. It seems to be her turn to avoid eye contact, gaze averted from that of her classmate as she says, "I'm sorry, Rin, if I made you feel uncomfortable or pressured lately. I didn't mean to. I guess I just got too excited about the idea of all three of us hanging out together? I mean, I've been really wanting to since we met them and at first I thought you were just nervous or shy about it and like, I thought if I tried to get you two to bond or something then it'd be totally cool and then we could all—!"

But the girl stops herself before she can continue.

Pony sighs. She stares at the floor in quiet contemplation (not unlike her classmate moments prior), but ultimately seems to come to some sort of conclussion. She smiles at her friend once again. Rin can sense the sincerity of the girl's tone as she says, "You don't have to spar with us if you don't want to. That's totally okay. Sorry again if I made you feel like you had to."

"Oh..." Rin can only blink at the apology. He opens his mouth, maybe to offer the girl an explanation or even just some reassurence, but...

None of that seems to come out.

Instead, the boy offers his own smile. As uncertain as it is, it does seem to bring Pony some comfort. "It's alright, Pony. You weren't hurting anybody."

The blonde opens her mouth like she wants to refute that statement, but seemingly stops herself short. Instead she settles for another smile, small and sincere.

Pony then turns her attention back towards the TV, hand reaching for the remote sat on the small coffee table at both students' feet. Whatever they had been watching beforehand had long since run its course, a steady stream of end credits flowing down the screen.

"Wanna watch that food anime now?" The blonde pipes up, her usual cheeriness coming back to her in seconds. "We never got to finish that one episode last night! Probably because you made us go to bed at like, eight."

That last sentence is said in a (tangibly salty) mumble, and Rin feels the need to defend his honor. "Hey, school's coming up in two days. It's better for us to get accustomed to sleeping at a reasonable time now than later. And knowing you, your sleep schedual is in need of some serious work."

The blonde pouts. Quietly, she mumurs to herself, "It's not that bad..."

"But sure, Pony," Rin continues with a smile. "That sounds good."

Soon enough the episode in question filters onto the large screen of the TV, picking up right where they'd left off the day before, and in mere moments Pony is drawn back into the story. The girl leans forward on the couch, blue eyes focused and watching with clear interest.

Rin, meanwhile, can't find it in himself to get invested in the show. It mostly serves as background noise as he sits there, trailing off into his thoughts.

He was glad his classmate would now back off with her attempts to get him closer to you. While he could admire what the girl was trying to do in theory, in practice it all just served to make for some awkward situations— Especially taking into account his friend wasn't exactly the most subtle person on the planet. He was sure you'd already caught onto what she was trying to do several times. For example: yesterday at dinner, when she tried to convince you into taking the free seat to Rin's left. Thankfully you didn't, though he sensed that was less due to his classmate's subpar persuasion skills and more because you could see just how obviously uncomfortable he was with the idea.

...You were thoughtful like that, he supposed.

As relieved as he was to be free from his friend's wingwomen shenanigans, though, he couldn't ignore the doubt gnawing away at his heart. Like maybe his resovle wasn't as sound as he'd thought..? But ultimately he ignores it.

Just then, the name etched across the skin near his collarbone starts to itch.

He ignores that too.

"This'll probably sound really crazy but... I think Bākōdo might actually hate me..."

The other two students seated with you cease their movements momentarily. As Rin shifts his focus back towards his lunch, Pony raises a brow at you and says without hesitation, "Oh, did you now know that already?"

You whip your head towards the blonde sat across you, mouth agape in disbelief as if you were trying to invite flies in. "What the hell is THAT supposed to mean? What, did he say he hated me or something? Did he tell you? And you didn't tell ME?!"

"No, I just thought it was already super obvious he didn't like you." Pony merely shrugs, attempting to stiffle her giggles by biting into the apple on her tray. Once she's swallowed her food, she adds, "And plus didn't you like, resort to bullying literally the first time you guys met?"

"It wasn't bullying, Po. C'mon."

The blonde purses her lips at you skeptically.

"...Okay maybe it was," You concede. "But it's not like I did anything serious! I wasn't giving him swirlies or shaking him down for lunch money."

"No, just calling him names and making fun of his height."

"More like lack of height, am I right?" You snicker at your own joke.

This time it's not just Pony who sends you a look, but Rin as well.

"Ha..." Scratching at your cheek in minor embarrassment, you say, "I'm just teasing him, guys, don't worry. I do it out of love. I do the same thing to my brother, it's fine!"

Pony frowns in sympathy, shaking her head at you in disappointment as she goes for another bite of her apple. "You're poor brother..."

You open your mouth to clarify, hoping to communicate that your little shit of a sibling was the LEAST deserving of your friend's sympathy, but no words come out. Instead you huff and slump into your chair. You were honestly too tired to argue any further.

You had Bākōdo to thank for that.

When the Support Course student had asked you to come to his lab that morning for a general overview of your Hero Costume, you'd assumed all he wanted to do was have you answer some questions. Maybe have you try the thing on for refrence or explain the purpose behind your support items.

And to be fair, he did have you try the costume on.

One piece at a time.

Then once that was done, he made you take it back off.

One piece. At a time.

For every costume component you put on, the short boy would then spend the next 10 minutes asking you Jeopardy! worthy questions about anything and everything. What material the costume was made of, what company provided said material, what was it resiliant to, who came up with the design, did you have much say in the design itself, what function did [insert support item here] serve for your overall costume— The list went on. Whenever you weren't able to answer any of his questions, the short stack would simply "tch" at you, like you were the one wasting his time.

To add salt to the wound, the boy made you treck all the way to the hero locker rooms just to change into the smallest piece of your costume, and then back to his lab once you were finished. Which, if you did the math right, was basically a 10 minute walk every 10 minutes.

What got you the most was the fact you knew the boy hadn't asked you all those questions and made you walk all those steps because he was being necessarily thorough. No, he did all that just because he could.

You had spent over three hours in Bākōdo's lab. There was no doubt in your mind that he probably would have kept you there for longer, but you got the feeling the boy could sense he was tredding into dangerous territory.

You-grabbing-him-by-the-neck-and-punting-him-out-the-nearest-window territory, to be specific.

With a sigh, you start to dig into your lunch. The explosion of flavors within your maw is enough to soothe you from your aggrevating memories, and you send an approving look Lunch Rush's way (he's too busy serving another student to notice, but hey, it's the thought that counts). You'd ordered something you've never had the chance to eat but always wanted to try, and honestly?

Good shit right there.

With a mouthful of food, you nod towards the two sitting across the table and ask, "How a'hout hou guhs? How wa' hur dahy?"

Pony snorts at your gibberish, meanwhile Rin can't help but grimace at your lack of table manners. He didn't think it was possible but you were almost as bad as Awase— Though (thankfully) nowhere near Tetsutetsu's level.

That guy would try to hold a conversation through a mouthful off water.

"Ew, swallow your food first!" Pony groans in disgust, leaning as far back in her seat as possible just to distance herself from you and your chewing. "Gross!"

You blow a raspberry at the girl— Swallowing down your food first, obviously (you had some dignity). You even go as far as to pick up a piece of food to chuck at the girl, though you stop once you see the brief glance Rin sends your way. Thinking better of it, you toss the would-be-projectile in your mouth instead.

Pony watches, head tilt in confusion as her arms lower from where she has them shielding her face.

You shrug as you chew. "Probably shouldn't start a food fight anytime soon. I don't think Aizawa Sensei would really appreciate that kind of thing."

"Because he sees all?"

"What? No, because he's my teacher and Principle Nezu would probably just tell him about it."

"Or he'd find out himself using his crow spies!"

"...Po, he's literally just some middle aged man in need of some eyedrops, not an ancient cryptid."

"Okay," Pony says in a whisper, leaning forward conspiratorily, "but what if that's just what he WANTS you to think?"

From beside the girl, Rin lets out a vaguely disappointed sigh. "You spend too much time talking to Yanagi."

"Hey, her theories make sense!

Rin levels her with a flat look. "Even that one about the north stairwell being haunted?"

"It—! It felt like there was a ghost!"

"The window was open, Pony. It was the wind."

You roll your eyes as your classmate tries to defend herself. Then, with a sharp-toothed smirk, you lean back into your seat leisurely. Offhandedly you say, "Honestly, it's better to save my energy now so that I can use it for more important things. Like, oh I don't know— Kicking your ass later at Gym Gamma?"

The little taunt grabs your friend's attention hook, line and sinker. Pony gasps, load and dramatic (meanwhile Rin cringes as several nearby students turn their heads at the commotion). Hand on her chest, the girl gapes at you in pure betrayal, like you went and dragged her favorite anime through the dirt. There's a noticible fire in her eyes as she declares, "Oh, as IF! I'll totally obliterate you, just watch!"

You throw your head back with a loud, "HA! You wanna bet on that?"

"Oh, Bestie," Pony says, ocean eyes glinting with challenge, "you know I do."

"Well go ahead then," you challenge right back, "name your price."

Your fellow American ponders for a moment, finger tapping against her lips as she thinks. You can almost see the lightbulb blink to life above her as she suddenly jumps in her seat, a grin stretching wide across her face. "Ooh! Okay okay okay— If I win, you have to let me dress you up for a week! I get to pick out your wardrobe from head to toe, even the accessories! And you can't say no, not even a little bit!"

Pony bounces in her seat, her hands clasp together as she nearly squeals in excitement. You were gonna look super cute, she just knew it! And if she could somehow manage get to Kinoko's help?

Gosh, she might just drop dead from glee alone.

As the blonde goes over her mental fashion catalogue (were you more of a winter or a summer? Or maybe an autumn?), you purse your lips in thought. Truthfully, your friend's idea didn't sound all too bad. You trusted her enough to know she wouldn't put you in anything outright embarrassing, and if you were being entirely honest you'd seen enough of the girl's fashion sense to think you might even come out of the whole ordeal looking like a certified parking ticket.

Which was to say— Rather fine indeed.

"Alright, sounds good to me," you concede with a grin. Now, though, it was your turn. "But if I win, you have to take me out on the town. Maybe we can go to that one mall you're always talking about— The one with the caramel apple stall?"

Since your arrival at U.A. a few days ago, you hadn't had the opportunity to explore off-campus. Not to say you didn't enjoy being on school grounds (I mean, where else are you gonna have access to Lunch Rush's god tier cooking?), but you never knew when you might need a new toothbrush or extra school supplies. You figured a trip with your friend would be a good chance to get to know the Musutafu area better.

Pony, on the other hand, saw the whole ordeal in a different light.

You... You were asking HER to take YOU to her favorite mall? As in, just the two of you?? Together???

Like a DATE?!

"YES!" Pony practically shouts, volume control merely an afterthought as her nerves get the best of her. Both you and Rin flinch at the sudden outburst. Her face burns crimson, the blonde attempts to regain her lost composure by clearing her throat. "I-I mean—! Um, yes, that sounds great! SUPER great!"

Rin, meanwhile, can't help but discreetly frown at the girl's telling behavior. He'd long deduced that you were none the wiser to neither his or his friend's connection to you. You didn't seem to recognize them by name your first day here, and your behavior towards either student hasn't changed in the slightest since then (one of the few things he was grateful for since meeting you). With how outwardly friendly and easily flustered Pony was around you, however...

He meant no offense to his friend but, seriously, a blind person could spot a crush that obvious.

"Cool," you say with a thumbs up. You barely give Pony's flushed face a second thought as you grin and add, "I've been needing some new socks anyways."

...Rin was unsure if he wanted to laugh or facepalm right there.

Unaware of a certain lizard boy's troubled thoughts, you take a quick sip of your nearby juice, eyeing the blonde across you. "Anyways, we good to go then? To spar, I mean."

Pony watches as your gaze wavers slightly, eyes flickering over towards her classmate for the briefest of moments. It's over before she knows it, however, and soon enough your gaze meets hers again. Nonethelsss, she understands your unspoken question.

"Yup," Pony answers, fighting back a frown with a smile. "Just you and me, Bestie."

You nod. "Cool."

Were you a little disappointed at this particular turn of events? Well, yeah (you would have loved to see Rin's quirk in action), but were you surprised that he turned the offer down?

Not in the slightest.

Minutes later, lunch comes to an end and your tray has been picked clean. After taking care of your collective trash, you and Pony stroll through the halls together with Rin following alongside. His plan was to spend the rest of his day in the library, and his blonde classmate had convinced him to walk with the two of you since his destination was on the way. Eventually, the two of you drop the boy off at the library's entrance. You both bid him goodbye as you head off towards the Heroics Course locker rooms, chatting together on the way and exchanging playful jabs as you hype each other up for your inevitible fight.

Neither seem to notice the pair of eyes trailing after you.

"Ten bucks says I land the first blow."

"What? No way, you wish! My Horn Canon is totally faster than you!"

"Oh yeah, you sure about that? You've never seen me run at full speed before. Who knows, I might even be fast enough to impress Rocket Man."

Rolling her eyes, Pony holds her hand up to you, palm facing your way in a "stop" gesture. "You did not just compare yourself to my king."

"King my ass. He's not even that cool."

"WHAT?! YOU—!"

"I mean, I get that he's half goat or whatever and you can relate to that on a spiritual level but—"

You cackle as your friend shoves you away.

Eventually, the two of you finally arrive at the locker rooms. Once you head into your respective room, you're quick to navigate through the row of lockers. You manage to find the one designated to you in practically no time at all. Bākōdo had already informed you of your locker number and code earlier that morning (pretty much the ONLY good thing to come out of that session inside his lab), and you smile excitedly once you find your Hero Costume and support items awaiting inside.

With excitement buzzing underneath your fingertips, you quickly snatch your stuff and begin to gear up.

You exit the locker room area and quickly make your way out towards Gym Gamma. Thankfully you already knew the way thanks to Bākōdo and his straightforward directions, the boy having practically drilled the route into your head the day before as well as this morning. Even when Pony offered to show you the way herself, the short stack still insisted you figure it all out on your own.

"You heard Power Loader Sensei. Just because you're the new kid in school doesn't mean everyone's gonna hold your fucking hand the whole the time," Bākōdo had sniffed. "You gotta learn the layout, especially where all the training areas are. Wouldn't look too good for you if you were constantly late to class. Especially not with a teacher like Erasure Head."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You'd asked, the feeling of annoyance starting to bite at you. What was with everyone talking about your homeroom teacher like he was some sort of boogyman?

"Well not to scare you or anything," Bākōdo continued, "but from what I've heard, that guy likes to handle tardies one of two ways: detention—"

"Obviously."

"—Or expulsion."

When he saw your aghast expression, the boy only shrugged. "Just don't be late to class, dumbass. Simple as that."

You made a mental reminder to ask Pony to give you another tour of U.A. later on.

Speaking of the blonde, you hadn't seen her around when you exited the locker room. You weren't sure if she'd finished dressing before you or was still getting ready, but you knew better than to wait around and find out. Honestly, a part of you hoped it was the former. Call it childish, but you wouldn't mind getting to brag about gearing up the fastest, just to tease her.

You stroll out onto U.A.'s outer campus area, passing by various sport fields and tracks. You breathe the air around you, enjoying the freshness of it all. At one point your casual walk morphs into a light jog, and you can't contain the giddy little laugh that escapes you as Gym Gamma comes into view.

A battle was near. You couldn't wait.

As you get closer and closer to the large building, you notice two figures standing outside the entrance. You easily recognize Pony, her large horns nothing but a dead giveaway. Her back was currently towards you, seemingly in the middle of a conversation with the other figure who—

Oh holy shit, that guy is huge.

Crimson red encases most of his body along with bits of stark white, the color a near match to his spiky, silvery hair. You're about a yard or two away when both your friend and the new stranger turn their attention towards you, and it's then that you spot the dual fangs peeking up from his lower lip.

Vlad King. Quirk: Bloodbending Kinda Sorta. Homeroom teacher for class 2-B. "Really super nice and awesome!" according to Pony. BIG MAN.

You come to a stop right behind your blonde schoolmate. Slightly winded, you offer her a smile. "Hey."

Pony turns to you, a smirk across her lips. "I got here before you," she sings, and your expression immediatly flattens.

"That was gonna be my line..."

The girl snickers and, in retaliation, you make a show of giving her Hero Costume a once over from head-to-toe. You make no comment on the beige and salmon color combination, but you grin ear to ear once your eyes land on the girl's many dark, leather straps.

You tap one nearest her shoulder. "Giddy up, Pon—"

She shoves you.

You laugh at your flustered friend, the girl growing as red as a cherry from embarrassment (or maybe it was because your laugh sounded nice? She wasn't really sure). "Ye-yeah, well, you're one to talk! You're even worse!"

Befuddled, you glance down at yourself. In all honesty your costume was pretty straighforward: A pair of tactical cargo pants with some kneepads strapped onto the legs, a sturdy belt with a number of chrome cylindars attached, matching chrome cuffs around your forearms, and a neoprene top that ended just above your midriff. 

"What do you mean? What's wrong with my costume?"

"Bestie, you look like you've been sent by the government to S.W.A.T. my house or something."

"Why, because it's mostly black?" You scoff. "Please. The American government wishes it got to look as good as me. Plus last time I checked, they're not sending their S.W.A.T. officers out in croptops."

"Okay but then why are you wearing a croptop?"

"It's practical."

"Oh my gosh, YOU'RE NOT EVEN WEARING SHOES!" Pony cries out in dismay, face full of anguish as she points down to your (SEMI) bare feet like the mere sight of them has just ruined her entire day.

You shrug. "It's practical for me."

Your conversation is cut short then when you're interrupted by a gruff clearing of the throat. Your attention is drawn to the large guy from before. He stands behind your friend like some looming, muscular mountain of a man, and you minutely shrink in on yourself as you meet his ruby-eyed stare.

"Oh, right!" Pony, on the other hand, absolutely lights up at the reminder of the man's presence. Blue eyes sparkling, she immediatlly links your arm with hers and stands at your side. Once she's facing the large man, the blonde gestures towards him and says, "Bestie, this is Mr. Vlad! He's my teacher, remember? Isn't he super cool?"

"Uhh—"

"And Mr. Vlad, this is the one I've been telling you about! My new friend! They're the—"

"New Class 2-A addition, yes," the man finishes, his voice calm despite the growl-like tone. He nods at his student, gaze growing marginally softer as he says, "Thank you, Pony."

Your friend practically glows under the praise. "Of course!"

Vlad then turns back to you, and you become stiff as a board as you feel him practically look straight through your soul. He's silent for a moment, accessing you. Finally he nods. "[____] King, is it?"

"Yes sir," you answer with a bow. Trying for a polite smile, you say, "It's very nice to meet you, Vlad King Sensei. Pony speaks very highly of you. A lot. All good things, obviously."

Pony elbows you discreetly, cheeks pink as she mutters, "Hey, don't tell him that!"

"Why not? It's true," you mutter back. "Besides, I'm pretty sure he likes it."

Sure enough the man lets loose a huff, though it doesn't seem to be in a displeased manner. If anything, judging by the way his scowl softens, you'd bet good money the guy was actually rather pleased to know his student was as fond as him as he was of her.

"Right then," Vlad continues, and soon his expression morphs back into that stern yet neutral look. He eyes you yet again. "I've been told the two of you hope to spar, is that right?"

The large man uncrosses his arms to place them on his hips instead, and you will yourself to keep you eyes on his face. "U-uh— Yes, sir, that's right."

Jesus... Whoever designed this man's costume had to know what they were doing, right? There was no way they didn't. Who puts such a buff guy in a suit that purposefully gave anybody within a 10 foot radius full visual access to the Pro's cleavage? Like, c'mon. That shit was no accident.

Well... Not that you were really complaining but— WAIT NO! NOT THE POINT, ABORT! ABORT!

Unaware of the battle raging on between your brain and your eyeballs, Vlad King shifts his attention over to Pony and asks, "Will it just be the two of you?"

The girl nods, her smile dampening just a bit. "Yes, just us."

"...I see."

The Pro Hero then turns away from you both and heads past Gym Gamma's large, open entreeway. "Follow me, then. I'll show you two where you'll be sparring."

With her arm still interlocked with yours, Pony tugs you along after her instructor. You stumble after your friend, her hidden strength once again taking you by surprise. Pony beams excitedly. "Come on!"

"I—I'm coming, I'm coming," you huff, "hold your horse...s..."

You start to sweat as you friend narrows her eyes narrow back at you.

You arm is dropped.

Much like its exterior, the inside of Gym Gamma is incredibly large. It seemed that U.A. had no qualms about going all out on their training areas (not that you were complaining). Almost like those abandoned warehouses you used to explore off the coast of your hometown, the building feels strangly empty with its high ceiling and vast floor— You'd bet there was enough room to fit an aircraft or two. A shiver wracks up your spine as you're led towards one of the battle arenas in the center, towards the right. A rectangle outlined by a slight dip in the conrete, you're surprised by how spacious the area is. There was definitely enough wiggle room for a good fight. 

"This will serve as the area for your match," Vlad announces, his gruff voice only amplified by the gym's vast, empty space. His eyes shift over to you as he asks, "Would you like me to explain the rules of the match? I'm sure you've sparred other students for Heroics Training before, but you might find the protocals here are bit different in comparison to your previous school."

You go to nod at the man's offer—

"Good luck trying to explain anything with this one. They're so thick in the damn head, you'll be lucky if you only have to go over those rules twice."

You whirl around at the familiar voice. There, leaning back against the wall near the far end of your battle arena, Bākōdo sits crisscross on the floor. In his lap was a notebook so thick you nearly mistook it for a textbook of some kind. It was no doubt what he'd be using to take notes on your costume and quirk. With a pen tapping a steady rhythm against his knee, the other student stares at you impatiently. He even makes a shooing motion with his other hand.

Your eyes narrow at the boy.

"No hello?" You ask, your voice easily carrying across the gym.

The irritation in your tone must be clear as day, though Bākōdo only raises a brow at your glowering form. You were admittedly still a bit peeved by the shit he pulled earlier that morning. Plus the fact that the guy had the audacity to talk smack about you to a teacher (while you were LITERALLY standing in the same room) only served to make your grudge against the Support Course student grow further.

Pony raises her hand and waves at the boy, but you quickly lower it back down for her.

Bākōdo offers a respectful nod to Vlad King and even goes as far as to return Pony's wave, before returning his attention towards the notebook in his lap. Ignoring you and your earlier question entirely.

Oh, you were SO gonna rearrange his wrench collection in the wrong order later on.

As you stand there, arms crossed and grumbling your plot of revenge to yourself, Pony offers you a few pats on the back. Vlad clears his throat for the second time that day, and both students return their attention towards thee large man.

"The match rules," he reminds you. 

Smiling, you shoot the man a thumbs up. "Take it away, Vlad Sensei."

Over at the far wall, Bākōdo cringes in disgust.

Vlad huffs (he were starting to notice he did that a lot), and motions towards the battle arena before you. "You two will spar each other here for three rounds. You're permitted to use your quirks, support items, as well as the space of the area to the best of your ability. Each round will end once one of you is able to incapacitate or push your opponent out of bounds. Best out of three rounds wins."

Both you and Pony nod along with the new information.

"Of course, it should go without saying that any sort of outside help will result in the perpetrator's immediate lose of the whole match," a new voice adds, and everyone turns to find none other than Aizawa slouched near the building's large entreeway. Like usual, the man looks as if he'd never heard the concept of a good night's rest, his lidded eyes red with dryness and his black mane a mess.

The Pro's gaze zeroes in on you as he continues, "If I sense any sort of underhanded behavior during the match, I'll boot you out without hesitation."

...Why the hell did it feel like he was only talking to you?

"I'm not gonna cheat!" You insist, eyes wide as you attempt to defend your honor. "Jeez, Aizawa Sensei, at least pretend to have a little faith in me. C'mon."

"I'll start having faith in you once you've shown you're deserving of it."

You sigh. 

From your side, Pony leans towards you, fearful blue eyes glued to your homeroom teacher as she whispers, "See? Scary!"

"Careful," you mutter, "I think he has super hearing or something."

"I don't. You two are just really bad at being quiet," Aizawa says, and Pony immediatly tries to shuffle behind you with a frightened squeak.

The other Pro Hero in the room, Vlad King himself, regards his darkly dressed counterpart with his usual scowl. "Erasure Head," he greets, "I wasn't aware you'd be joining us today."

"Neither was I." Your homeroom teacher sends you look.

All you can do is offer a guilty shrug. "My bad, Sensei. I didn't know I was supposed to invite you."

"You technically aren't under any obligation to," Aizawa replies tiredly. Vlad suddenly snorts softly, the sound almost like a laugh, and your homeroom teacher's gaze narrows just the slightest as he shifts his focus towards the larger man.

"Pony didn't even think twice before informing of her match yesterday," the Pro says proudly. You blink at the subtle boast in the man's tone, his scowl lifting up around the edges as the girl in question flusters under the his praise.

You glance over at Aizawa, an eyebrow piqued.

He merely shakes his head.

"Okay, cool!" You clap your hands together and rub them excitedly, sharp-toothed grin on display as you glance from one person in the gym to the other. "Well if there aren't any more interruptions, then—"

"Sorry, am I late?"

"Damn it."

You glance over at Gym Gamma's entreeway once again, the new interruption causing your shoulders to slump disappointedly, only to do a serious double take once you spot the figure coming to a stop beside Aizawa. They hunch over, hands on their knees as they attempt to catch their breath. Their features are mostly obscured thanks to the cloth shielding their face, but once you catch sight of the small braid at the base of their scalp—

"Oh my gosh, RIN!" Pony squeals. As if a switch had been flipped, the blonde's expression immediatly brightens like the sun and her arm zips high into the air as she starts waving frantically. "You came!"

You snort.

Aizawa sends you a look.

You glance away, the floor suddenly becomes very interesting.

"Uh. Yeah, I'm here," Rin says distantly, almost like he can't really believe it himself. He seems to analyze the scene from behind the drape across his face. From Aizawa beside him, to Bākōdo sat down against the far wall (said boy not paying the other any mind whatsoever), and finally you and Pony standing near Vlad King.

"You guys didn't... Start already, did you?"

"They keep getting interrupted by people, so no," Bākōdo answers bluntly, and Rin nearly flinches at the pointed look the other sends his way. "Hopefully you're the last."

You narrow your eyes at the Support Course student. "That's awfully rich coming from the guy who started it all."

"Well like, he was already here first though so I don't think it counts?" Pony pipes up, and you turn to her, betrayed.

"Wha— Don't side with him, Po!"

"I was just pointing it out!"

As the two of you bicker, Vlad turns to the two males over by the gym's entrance and motions them over with a tilt of the head. Once they're both near, Vlad sends an acknowledging nod Rin's way and says, "Rin, it's nice to see you. I was told you had other plans today."

"Sensei," the boy greets with a bow. He glances over at his classmate and her friend, the former swatting the other's hand down when they attempt to not-so-discreetly flip off the support student by the wall. "Yeah, I... Kind of changed my mind last minute. I'm sorry."

Vlad merely waves him off. "That's alright, my boy. I'm just glad you were able to make it."

"Let's try and refrain from any more late-shows though, alright?" Aizawa adds, and Rin nods hesitantly under the man's bored yet piercing gaze. How the Pro's eyes were able to seem so awake despite the rest of him looking to be on the brink of exhaustion...

He was starting to understand why Pony found the instructor so offputting.

Soon, both homeroom teachers head over to stand at the wall Bākōdo had himself settled against, leaving the remaining three students together within the confines of the battle arena. Since Rin's latest addition to the roster, the rules for your match had changed a bit. There were still three seperate rounds in total and battles would still be 1v1, but each round would consist of a new match up rather than have you spar an opponent three times. You'd get exactly one chance to spar each of your opponents without having to tire yourself out too much.

Lucky for you, one chance was all you really needed to kick some ass.

"So maybe Bestie and I go first, and then you and Rin, and the last round can be Rin and me?" Pony suggests, her large eyes shifting from you, her classmate, and then back again. The three of you were currently trying to decide the order of the matches; who would fight who and when.

Though the blonde's order of the matches was pretty much ideal, you can't help but put in your own two cents. Scratching your cheek nervously, you say, "Actually, Po, I was kinda thinking... Maybe me and Rin go at it first?"

Both 2-B students turn to you. Pony blue eyes blink owlishly. Though you can't see much of his face, you get the feeling that Rin is just as shocked as his classmate.

"Not saying that I don't wanna fight you or anything, because I definitely do!" You quickly assure your blonde friend, hands held before you placatingly. "I just thought, y'know, since he's already here then it wouldn't hurt. I mean, with how his quirk is and all I think he'd be a great challenge— Shit, not that you WOULDN'T be a challenege either, I just meant—!"

"Okay!"

"—Since his quirk is super versitile and stuff then I... Wait, what?"

You glance over at Pony, brows furrowed in confusion. Rather than the hurt expression you were expecting, though, the girl's face is nothing but giddy. She smiles, wide enought that the edges of her eyes crinkle. She bounces lightly on the edge of her hooves as her azule eyes shift between you and her equally confused classmate.

"What?" Rin echoes after you. "Pony, are... Uh, are you sure?"

You nod, pointing half-heartedly at the boy beside you. "Yeah, what he said. You sure you don't... I mean, if I hurt your feelings—"

Pony holds a hand up and stops you mid-sentence, still smiling. "It's cool, guys, seriously! I don't mind!"

Suddenly, the blonde's face melts into something more coy. You barely notice, but the boy beside you can practically feel the girl's intent before she even opens her mouth to say, "Honestly, Bestie, I don't blame you for wanting to fight Rin first. I mean, his quirk is super cool. Plus he's like, so smart and stuff, he once managed to take down Big Sis Kendou in one of our training excercises last year. And she's literally one of our class' top fighters too!"

Rin goes tense at his classmate's sudden praise. You spot his ears turn a flustered shade of pink as he stutters, "P-Pony!"

"What?" The blonde looks to the boy as she shrugs innocently. "I'm just telling the truth. It's a compliment!"

The male opens his mouth, a retort of some kind ready to roll off his tongue, but the words get lodged in his throat before he can spit them out. Eventually he decides to save himself any further embarassment and just holds a hand up to his temple with a sigh. "N-Nevermind. Let's just do this."

Hesitantly, Rin turns to you next. He seems unsure as he asks, "Are you, uh... Are you sure you want to spar me first?"

"Hell yeah I do," you answer right away, catching the other off guard with your honesty. "But only if that's okay with you, obviously. We don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, if you're uncomfortable then you don't have to spar me period. It's all good. I won't mind."

Much.

"N-No no," Rin insists with a shake of his head. "That's alright, really. I... I don't mind."

"Oh." You smile and send the other a pair of thumbs up. "Great! Let's do it then."

"Yeah!" Pony cheers. She holds her hand out between the three of you, palm face down, and glances at both of her friends expectantly. "Let's all do our best! Plus Ultra!"

Ooh, the school cheer! The whole thing sounded a bit cheesy to you but damn, your friend was just too cute to deny. Grinning, you smack your hand right atop the blonde's and parrot back, "Plus Ultra!"

Both students turn their attention towards their third. Though he hesitates at first, the expectant stares of both you and Pony combined are enough to push the boy to action. Like the last puzzle piece sliding into place, Rin's hand finally joins the party as he says, "Plus Ultra."

The three of you toss your hands into the air (all at varying levels of enthusiasm), and just like that, the first fight of the day begins.

MATCH ONE: YOU VS. RIN

You stand at the ready at one end of the battle arena, your opponent waiting over at the other. Knees bent slightly and feet planted firm, you await the start signal.

From the sidelines, Vlad raises his arm high into the air, holding it there for a moment or two.

The second he swings it down, you're off.

You rocket forward, legs a blur as you charge your opponent. You decided against using your quirk just yet, instead choosing to see how far you could get against Rin and his scales. You'd heard enough about the boy's quirk thanks to all the info-dumping (read: gossip) Pony had provided the last few days. From what you've heard, the boys ranged attacks packed a powerful punch.

But hey, so did your fists.

Rin falters just a bit, your quick and sudden advance catching him by surprise. By the time he's caught his bearings, it's too late— You're already too close and his eyes widen as he spots a deadly-looking right hook coming right at him.

Among the small crowd of spectators Pony flinches, her classmate just barely sidestepping to dodge your punch. Good thing, too, because it looked like you had put an awful lot of force behind the attack. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting from your fighting style, but this whole brash, straight forward approach was so not it!

She will admit, though, you did look kinda hot all aggresive like that...

The moment your punch fails to land its mark, you immediaty skid to a halt. Using the momentum from your previous sprint, you pivot on your feet, crouched low as you face your opponent once again. By now Rin has gotten his bearings and successfully manages to block your next blow using the bright yellow gauntlets around his forearms. The boy takes on a defensive stance as you vault yourself at him once again.

"It seems like they've gone on the offensive," Vlad comments, loud enough for the others along the sidelines to hear. They collectively watch as you continue your relentless barage of blows upon the other student. Punch after punch, kick after kick, you didn't allow Rin even a second to breathe as you laid into him.

Aizawa makes no comment on his collegue's words. Instead he observes for himself, eyes unblinking as he tracks your every move. With how aggressive you were fighting, Aizawa would have suspected maybe you held some sort of secret vendetta against the 2-B student— He's seen enough matches between Bakugou and Midoriya to sense these kind of things. But ultimately the Pro knew better. Though your blows weren't powerful enough to cause any serious harm (save for maybe a few bruises), they packed enough of a punch to send your opponent shuffling back a step or two with every attack.

You were slowly but surely backing Rin towards the edge of the arena.

Rin stumbles from your latest hit, cringing as you manage to send your knee straight into his midsection. Though he had his scales to protect him for the duration of the match, you were obviously not holding back any of your punches, the force behind your blows causing several of the boy's scales to shed and fall off. By now, there was a considerable path of scattered green trailing behind the two of you.

To say the boy had been overwhelmed at the start of the match would have be an accurate assessment. You had all but forced Rin into playing the defensive role. He tried to land his own hits on you, whether it be a green elbow to the face or a small barage of scales to throw you of your balance. Unfortunately for him, your reflexes were faster than he'd anticipated. You snuffed out any form of retaliation from the boy, absolutely merciless as you advance upon him further and further, growing more aggressive by the second. Rin will admit, he may have underestimated you.

But you underestimated him too.

Rin was thankful for the way his hero costume was designed. The cloth attached to his cap may not offer him many physical advantages in battle, but the one thing it did do was hide his face.

You couldn't see the patient and calculated gleam in your opponent's eyes as you continue backing him farther and farther into the battle arena.

Nor did you notice the way those very eyes flicker towards the boundry line now only a few yards away.

Your eyes suddenly widen, arm reared back to land yet another punch, as you watch Rin drop low to the floor with no warning. By the time you're able to comprehend what's happening, It's too late. You find your balance is no more. Feet swept from right under you, you fall hard—

"Oof!"

—Right onto your back.

The air is knocked straight out of you, your skull reverberating painfully as it slams against the ground. Your skeleton seems to spasm from the impact. You aren't given much time to catch your breath before Rin is suddenly looming over you, his leg hovering in the air and ready to strike down. Quickly, you shield your face with your arms and just barely avoid a heel to the face. You grit your teeth as your opponent's foot meets your limbs with a loud thump. The metal cuffs around your forearms thankfully take the brunt of the impact, but you were sure to be walking out of here with a bruise or two.

"Geez, you don't skip leg day, do you?" You ground out as Rin goes for another slam. Your sudden quip is enough to make the other hesitate for just the barest second, and you don't let the opportunity go to waste.

Vaulting your knees up towards your upperbody, you manage to create enough momentum to roll yourself backwards like a human tumbleweed. It isn't until you're a safe distance away from Rin that you stop, crouched low to the floor as you and your opponent come to a standstill.

Alright, so Plan A turned out to be a bust. To be fair, that was mostly on you. You had thought if you managed to overwhelm the other student well enough, draw the entirety of his attention towards you alone, then you could maybe get away with backing him out of bounds without him realizing. Really, though, you should have known better than to think the guy wouldn't notice. Especially not with how much Pony praised him for being so observant and overall big-brained.

Slowly, both you and Rin begin to circle each other, inching closer towards the center of the battle arena while still maintaining a good distance between you both. You're silently sizing each other up, waiting to see if the other will make a move...

You had taken the initiative at the start of the match.

Rin figured it was only fair he returned the favor now.

Your opponent suddenly thrusts an arm in your direction, and that's all the warning you get before a barrage of scales rockets towards you. You tuck and roll to the side, not quiet avoiding Rin's line of fire as a few stray projectiles manage to nick you in your right arm. Thankfully the adrenalin pumping through your viens dulls any pain for the time being. Rin swings his aim your way once again, his gauntlets going full steam, and automatically you reach down to one of the support items strapped to your belt. You press on the cylindar's sides to activate the device and, with a near-silent shiff, it swiftly extends into a long, sturdy spear.

Without a second to spare, you take your weapon and skillfully rotate it with your hands at a high speed like a helecopter blade. Just in time too. The makeshift shield is enough nullify the other's attack, small flecks of green rebounding off and away. Rin continues to fire, the loud sound of his launching projectiles booming througout the building like rapid thunder. If it weren't for the scattered (and steadily growing) number of scales around you, you'd have thought the boy had a literal machine gun strapped to his arm.

Definitely felt like you were being shot at with one, that's for sure.

Like a snake sizing up its prey, Rin's slit-like eyes observe you from behind his cloth mask. You were doing a good job of deflecting his scales, that spear of yours obviously proving itself to be useful as a defensive item. With how fast you were spinning it, though, your energy was sure to deplete itself soon enough— Especially since you were handling the thing with both hands.

You'd tire out eventually.

And if not...

"Uh oh," you murmur to yourself, eyes wide with mute terror as you watch your opponent suddenly raise his other arm to join its twin. Before you know it, he lets loose. You grit your teeth as the force behind his steady fire grows twofold, even more specks of green ricocheting to pile up around you. Will the heels of your feet bare, your attention is piqued once you suddenly feel the ground beneath you start to shift. You glance down and—

"AH SHIT!"

From the sidelines, Vlad King huffs approvingly. Like a proud father, the Pro feels his heart swell with pride as he watches his student begin to walk towards you slowly. With every step Rin takes, your own feet in turn are forced to skid backwards, the push of the boy's ranged attack proving too powerful.

"And in a sudden turn of events, Rin has managed to turn the tables on his opponent!" Vlad announces with vigor, hands on his hips and a sparkle in his eyes. "Using the other's own trategy against them— Absolutely astounding! Who would have expected any less from such a promising young hero?!"

Aizawa sends the other an unimpressed look. "Do you need to do that at every training exercise?"

"I'm simply boosting my student's moral, Erasure Head. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"No thanks," Aizawa grunts. "Those trouble children already get into too much trouble to need encouragment."

From her spot standing beside Bākōdo (she'd been way too anxious to sit down), Pony gasps as her classmate slowly but surely edges you towards the nearest boundry line, her hooves bouncing with secondhand adrenalin. Much like her instructor pointed out, Rin was pretty much serving you a taste of your own medicine. Which was totally super great news for Rin! But like, also not so good news for you...

Ugh, maybe she shouldn't have been so excited to watch you two go at it. Seriously, who the heck was she supposed to even cheer for?!

You continue to skid backwards, your opponent's relentless barrage driving you closer and closer towards the nearby dip in the concrete. In such a compromising position, there didn't seem to be any means of escape. There was the possibility that you might be able to sidestep your way out of this— Maybe inch your way around the other student and somehow get the jump on him— But no, that probably wouldn't work out too well for you. It was taking all your strength to even remain upright, your body slanting forwards in an attempt to stay balanced. One wrong step and there was no doubt your feet would immediatly give out from under you. This may be your first time seeing Rin in action, but you were smart enough to know that the second you were on the ground, it'd be game over for you.

Again, there didn't seem to be any means of escape.

At least not any easy ones.

Taking a deep breath, you focus all your attention towards your spinning weapon. You zero in on the conjoined motion of both your hands, the handle of your spear nothing more than a blur as it slides between both palms.

Slowly, carefully, you begin to shift the item to your dominant hand.

It takes a hot second (Rin's constant attack plus your shifting feet don't exactly make things easy for you), but eventually you successfully transfer the weight of your spear without disturbing its flow of rotation. You breathe out a small sigh of relief as you watch your hand, its fingers working tirelessly to keep your makeshift shield in place. There's a bunch of strain being put upon your arm, sure, but your were strong. You could handle it.

With your other hand now free, you reach back down towards your utility belt and pop another metal cylindar into your palm. As it extends itself, you roll your shoulder, making sure your arm was nice and loose. You've only executed a move like this a handful of times (half of which were total flops and sometimes ended in property damage), but you were sure you'd get this one to land (maybe).

Time for Plan B.

Rin takes another step forward, upper body leaning in his opponent's direction as he herds them towards their doom. His forearms felt like they were on fire now, the strain of his quirk beginning to take a toll on him, but he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. He's managed to back you into a corner of the arena. The outline of the boundry was clear as day, the heels of your skidding feet just inches away—

It's only thanks to his quick reflexes that the boy is able to sidestep the steel rod spinning his way.

Rin's breath hitches as your spear narrowly misses its target, the air whizzing audibly as it flies past him like a runaway plane propeller. In his brief panic, your opponent's fire ceases for just a split moment, but those few miliseconds are all it takes.

With your other spear still in hand, you rush out of your little corner, darting off to the side as you make your way around the other student. His gauntlets lock onto you in no time, and you evade as best you can, pivoting this way and that in order to avoid his line of fire. All this rapid movement was sure to leave your lungs feeling like deflated ballons but, fuck it, you'll worry about that later.

You skid to a stop at the opposite edge of the arena, far from where Rin still stands. He grits his teeth as his scales continue to launch at you, his forearms feeling scorched and all too hot. Both his arms do their best to track your every movement as you duck and slide away. By now he's sure you've already noticed the signs of his exhaustion. If not for the way the rapid fire of his scales begin to dull, then surely for the red tinge crawling up his skin like some horrible rash from beneath his yellow gauntlets.

It's only when the pain comes to a boiling point that Rin's rapid fire finally ceases and his upper limbs go limp, hanging loosely before him. Huffing, the boy grimaces at the whisps of steam emitting off his forearms, his skin practically scorched from overexertion. As much pain as Rin was in, however, he won't stop. This wasn't the end.

Now free from being shot at by a one man firing squad, you watch as your opponent takes on a fighting stance, knees bent with one foot planted before the other. He holds a hand up, back of his palm facing you, and you grin as his fingers fold inwards together in a 'come at me' motion. You don't waste a second, dropping your spear to the floor with a thud and bolting towards the boy. Rin stays put, breathing deeply in anticipation. He watches you charge for him, your fist raised and ready like he expected. 

While he was starting to tire out, that meant you surely were too

He could tell you were rushing things now. Getting sloppy. Whether from fatigue or adrenalin, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that you kept your attention on him and not your surroundings— Focus on him rather than the edge of the arena where he chose to stand.

All he needed was for you to throw that punch. Leave your arm exposed and ready for him to grab onto, then he'd toss you out of bounds and win the match, just like that.

That was the plan, anyway.

Rin feels a strange wave of deja vu wash over him as he watches you drop down before him. The momentum from your short run allows you to slide along the floor towards your opponent. You swing your feet at the boy's legs, catching onto one of his ankles and before he knows it—

Half the spectators cringe as the Rin topples over face-first, his head hitting the ground with an audible thump.

Bākōdo watches the scene with exasperation. Pen in hand, he marks a tally in the upper corner of his current page where a small box had previously been jotted down.

POSSIBLE CONCUSSIONS: 1.

Much to everyone's (though mostly Pony's) relief, the other 2-B student had managed to shield his crown by activating his quirk, the small scales along his face rattling from the impact. His relief is short-lived, however, and before he can even blink, you're on him— Literally.

You tackle the boy the second he's down, attempting to incapacitate him as you go to restrain his arms. Rin, much like expected, doesn't allow you to do so easily. He was still in this fight, after all, and he wouldn't forgive himself if the reason he lost the match was because you managed to use one of his own tactics against him. At this point the two of you are practically trying to wrestle each other into submission, bodies rolling along the floor like a couple of kids playfighting.

Though this fight was anything but play. The scale-enforced elbow sent to your face would say that much.

Your world goes white for a moment and you curse loudly, your nose taking the brunt of the blow. The hit leaves you reeling, senses growing fuzzy and your body going limp. Much to your dismay, the impact leaves your poor, sensitive nose blaring with pain. Something warm and wet starts to trickle its way down your nostil, and you have to hold yourself back from swiping your tongue across your upper lip.

Rin, meanwhile, is momentarily surprised when he feels you flop onto his back like a sack of rice, all the fight seemingly leaving your body. He doesn't dwell on it for long, though, and tries to scramble out from where you had him on his belly. Unfortunately doing so is easier said than done, your weight plus his growing fatigue making things rather difficult.

His brief moment of escape grinds to a halt the second a harsh rumbling emits past your sneering lips.

...That's probably not a good sign, Rin thought.

Without warning, you sit up till you're perched upon the other's back, forcing a wheeze out of the boy as you purposefully put all your weight onto him. Then, grabbing Rin's shoulders roughly, you lift yourself and throw your weight backwards, successfully dragging him along with you. Your rear end plops onto the ground as your opponent falls with his back facing you, right into your waiting arms. The second his body collides with yours, you wrap your limbs around him in a stiffling embrace, using your body to restrain your opponent's.

Legs tangled together. One arm wrapped firmly around his middle, his uppper limbs held down. The other arm held his head in a chokehold. No matter how hard he struggled, there was no way the boy was escaping you anytime soon.

"Give up yet?" You grunt, narrowly avoiding a collision with the other's head as he thrashes in your hold.

"Not quite," Rin answeres breathlessly. That's all the warning you get before the boy tosses his head back hard, knocks you in the nose AGAIN—

"FUCK! OW!"

—And uses the momentary distraction to tear one of his arms out of your limp grip, yellow gauntlet immediatly moving to aim at your face.

...While you could admire the boy's drive (you appreciated an opponent that didn't pull their punches), that didn't change the fact he hit you in the nose. TWICE.

Needless to say, with all the blood gushing down your face, you were rightfully pissed off.

What happens next is a bit of a train reaction.

Fighting through your dulled senses, you react faster than you can think. Releasing your arms from around the other student, you move quickly to bring your forearms together in an X shape. The metal cuffs wrapped around your wrists clash together harshly, enough to send sparks flying. The action activates the cuffs, and in the distance you watch as the spear left sitting at the opposite end of the battle arena responds to your call. It shudders along the floor for a moment before it jumps into the air and comes flying your way—

Rin goes still as the tip of your weapon meets the unprotected skin of his neck.

From the sidelines, Pony screams.

"Kalokohan," Bākōdo mumbles to himself, eyes blown wide with shock and the notebook in his lap momentarily forgotten.

You'd managed to catch your runaway weapon before it could actually pierce your opponent's neck, thank fucking GOD. Your hand firmly grips the handle of the weapon closest to the head. Even still, Bākōdo can't help but wonder:

What the actual FUCK were you trying to do?! Get your kill count in? All he did was ask you to demonstrate your quirk, not make him a god damn accomplice to fucking HOMICIDE!

Grumbling, the support student scribbles down a quick addition in his notebook:

NEAR DEATH EXPIRIENCES: 1.

You don't remove the harpoon from Rin's juggular— Not yet, anyway. With his back still against your chest, you instead take the opportunity to lean your face closer towards the side of his head, your mouth right up against his ear.

With a grin full of blood-stained, sharp teeth, you murmmer, "Are you sure those scales of yours aren't fish related? Because I totally almost had you hooked."

Rin grimaces. With the tip of your weapon to his neck, he just barely manages to strangle out, "N-no, please... Anything but that—"

"King wins Round One," Vlad announces loudly, the Pro's gruff voice echoing along the building's empty walls. He looks your way and beckons the both of you over to the sidelines.

You take that as your cue to remove your weapon from the other's neck, much to his obvious relief (the sigh he lets out is so forceful you can feel the vibrations of it along his back). The two of you then untangle from one another. Once you're up from the floor and have dust yourself off, you hold a helping hand out towards the boy who seems to be recovering from his loss, rubbing at the skin of his neck in a soothing manner.

Though you can't see his eyes, you can still sense the stare Rin levels you and your outstretched hand.

"Oh, um," you start, scratching at the back of your scalp nervously. "I think... I probably went kinda overboard there at the end, huh? Sorry about that, by the way. That was entirely my bad," you chuckle.

"...Do you mean nearly spearing me through the neck or the pick-up line?"

"Huh?"

You nearly jump when Rin clasps onto your forearm with his hand, but you don't hesitate to do the same and help him to his feet. With the both of you are standing, facing each other with your arms still wound together, you're able to spot the slight smile on the boy's face as he says, "The spear thing or the pick-up line. Which one are apologizing for?"

You blink. "Uhh... Whichever one you thought was worse?"

"Ah, okay. The pick-up line then."

A snort escapes you. "Okay, it wasn't that bad. C'mon."

"No no, it was..."

Rin's smile falters a bit. You grow concerned for a moment (okay, maybe it was that bad), but then the boy motions to the lower half of his face, then your own. Apologetic, he says, "I'm sorry about your nose. Did you, uh, want a wipe for that or...?"

"Oh! Nah, you're good, don't worry about it. The blood's all dry now anyways."

Right as you finish that sentence, a single drop of red drips down your uppper lip and splatters upon the ground between you two.

You don't need to see the upper half of his face to sense the way Rin raises a brow at you.

"Well... It's almost all dry."

The two of you walk over to the sidelines together and reunite with the others. Pony practically pounces on the both of you the second you're even a few feet away. She frets over Rin, worry lacing her features as she all but forces the boy to reveal the skin of his neck for any injuries. There are thankfully none to speak of, but that doesn't stop the blonde from absolutely rounding on you for your behavior in the arena. You could have seriously hurt her friend, after all.

She wasn't just gonna let that kind of thing slide just because the two of you were like, bound by fate or whatever!

Lucky for you (because you honestly had no idea how to handle a Pissed Pony), Vlad Kind decides to step in and come to your rescue. The large Pro pats a hand on his student's shoulder and stops the girl's reprimanding rant short. "I believe we should trust young King to know what they're doing. They've already gone through a whole year of Heroics Training, same as you and your classmates. I'm sure they wouldn't have executed that last move if they didn't believe Rin would come out of it unscathed."

You stiffen at the sharp look the large Pro sends your way. "Right, King?"

"Oh yeah totally!" You rush out, hands held up in surrender as you're pinned under the collective gazes of both 2-B student and teacher. Clearing your throat, you continue in a more sincere tone, "I would never put Rin in any kind of actual danger— Especially in just a training excercise like this one."

You cross a finger over your heart and add, "I promise."

Rin, much to your surprise, steps in to say, "It's really alright, Pony. Vlad Sensei. I'm fine. I'm sure King didn't have any bad intentions."

Your offered pinky is put under scrutiny for a few moments, but eventually Pony takes your word as well as her classmates and links her finger with yours. She pouts, gaze stern as she says, "You better warn me next time you do something like that."

"Don't worry about it, Po," you assure confidently, sending the girl a grin and thumbs up. "Besides, I've practiced that stunt a thousand times by now. I'm practically a natural!"

"...You've practiced?" His mask leaves Rin's troubled gaze is hidden from view. "On who?"

"In the meantime," Aizawa cuts in, "try and refrain from decapitating any more of your schoolmates, alright? I'd rather not have one of my own students land themselves a homicide charge before the school year starts."

Rubbing at his temple and muttering into his cloth scarf, he adds quietly, "At least not while I'm the one supervising."

You smile nervously and try not to think too hard about implications of your instructor's words. "Aye, Sensei."

Both homeroom teachers allow you and Rin a short break before your next match, much to your relief. You sit at the wall beside Bākōdo and try not to be too visibly offended when the boy scoots away, claiming he didn't want to "catch stupid". Really, though, you knew that asshole was just you-phobic. Pony and Rin sit across from you both, and it's then your blonde friend finallly seems to take notice of the scarlet mess staining the lower half of your face. You only wave her off when she starts to fret over you.

She's too stubborn for her own good, unfortunately, and you're unable to stop her when she goes to ask Vlad for a napkin. She returns a minute later with a wetwipe.

"It's just a nosebleed, Po, really. Don't worry about it," you assure the girl. Regardless, you accept the wipe from your friend and get to cleaning the mess dripping down your lips and chin.

"A gross mess," the blonde says, though you notice the jab as a playful one and stick your tongue out in retaliation.

As Rin and Pony get to discussing the girl's strategy for round two, talking quietly amongst each other as to not have you overhear her plans, the Support Course student sat beside you leans over to start his own conversation.

"You haven't really been using your quirk much," Bākōdo comments, low enough for just you to hear. He grunts in disgust as you stuff a now bloodied wetwipe into one of your pant pouches, nonchalant and unconcerned over any potential mess. They were your germs anyways.

You remove the metal cuffs around your wrists one at a time, the two support items plopping onto the floor between your spread legs. Grimacing at the bruise blossoming along your left forearm, you answer the shorter student and say, "I couldn't really use my quirk to its full potential that first round, especially when I'm supposed to go again in the second. I have to keep it going at 20% or else my energy will be drained."

Pausing, you purposefully pat at the pouches along your pant legs, all of them empty minus the one with your blood-stained wetwipe. "Since I don't have any way to restore that energy, it's better for me to just hold out on pushing myself too far."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Eyeing your pockets thoughtfully, Bākōdo hums and scribbles a quick note down into his notebook. "I'll have a talk with Lunch Rush later today. He should have those energy boosters done by tomorrow."

"Aww, thanks Little Buddy."

"I'll fucking strangle you."

Snickering, you elbow the other student playfully. "Don't worry," you assure, "the next round's my last one. I'll put my quirk to more use then, just for you."

"You better, dumbass. I still have a job to do." The boy motions towards the thick notebook in his lap and, curious, you peer down to look at the pages. You're met with a number of countless scribbles littering the paper, Bākōdo's chickenscrawl practically ancient latin to you. Alongside all the chaos are various drawings of you and your support items. You'll admit, the sketches themselves weren't too bad.

(Though it doesn't escape you that every drawing of you happens to have the dumbest face etched onto it.)

"Nice," you comment. Bākōdo opens his mouth to cuss you out but stops short once he sees you nod your head, geniunely impressed by his work.

"...Thanks."

"Well gee, don't get too excited about it."

"Oh shut the fuck up."

Chapter Text

MATCH TWO: YOU VS. PONY

You... Weren't too fond of heights, to be honest.

It's not that you were AFRAID of them or anything... You just didn't see the point in being anywhere but the ground. That's where all people belonged, after all, just as God intended. Screw the sky. That domain was reserved for birds, planes, and runaway balloons— None of which you happened to be.

So yeah. Heights weren't exactly your strong suit.

Hence why your current situation was practically a living hell for you.

"HOOOOOOOOOLLLYYYY SHIIIIIIIITTT!" is what you cry out, pure terror painting every word as you dangle about 20 feet up in the air.

You had entered the start of this match with confidence. You were still buzzing from the last fight, and watching your next opponent take on a charging stance, her blue eyes glinting with anticipation, only served to get your blood pumping even faster. The match began with you going on the offensive yet again, this time keeping your distance as you sent spear after spear towards the blonde on the other side. When weapons were low, you'd simply call them back using the cuffs on your wrists and start all over again.

Pony, of course, didn't allow you to be the only one dealing blows. Just as she'd bragged told you many times before, her horn cannons were no joke, and you did your best to dodge/misdirect the sharp torpedos sent your way.

Unbeknownst to you, your opponent had a plan brewing within that head of hers.

While she's totally spilled about her quirk on more than one occasion (you called her power "awesome" once and she's been chasing that high ever since), there were some things she'd kept quiet about. If there's one thing she learned from all her hero experience last year, the less your opponent knew about you, the better.

So imagine your surprise when you knock an incoming horn to the side—

Only for it to redirect itself mid-air and crash into your abdomen.

It's just the side of the horn that collides with you (thank God), but the impact is enough to knock you off your feet and send you stumbling to the ground. With a grunt you land on your elbows, back to the floor. You hiss softly, the skin of your elbows sure to be decently scraped by the time this was all over. Still...

You were expecting something with a lot more oomph.

Pony grins from her spot rooted at the arena's far end, her attacks halting momentarily. Her smile falters, however, when your eyes narrow at her.

"Hey... You're not going easy on me, are you?"

Like a deer caught in headlights, your opponent's eyes widen a comical degree. "H-huh?"

"That horn barely left a bruise. It should have knocked me out of bounds or at least as hard on my ass as possible. Don't tell me you're pulling punches with me."

"...N...Noooooo...?"

Brows furrowed, you point to the sheepish blonde accusingly. "I knew it! Pony, what the hell?"

"Tsunitori," Vlad King calls from the sidelines. His student flinches at the way he uses her last name instead of her first— Something he only did when he was disappointed in her. With his usual scowl deepened a degree, the Pro nails your opponent down with a look and continues, "Don't hold yourself back during this training exercise. Both Rin and King have done their best to put their maximum effort into their actions. Have some pride and try to do the same."

You get back to your feet as your opponent fumbles an apology, shoulders hitched up in shame. As you dust off your knees, you try to quell your friend's worries and say, "I appreciate your concern, Po, I really do. But if we're gonna be Pro Heroes one day, we can't afford to be going easy on each other just because we're friends."

Your opponent's mouth sets into a thin line, blue eyes brimming with conflict. She wasn't trying to go easy on you, honest! She just didn't want to hurt you too much— especially after your match with Rin, splotches of purple now littering your nose.

"Besides, I've been dying to see what this Rocketti is all about." Grinning widely, you point at the girl, your words challenging as you say, "So you better not hold out on me now! I plan on kicking your ass today and you better not let me get away with it. Show me what you got!"

Your words seem to do the trick. Pony's eyes are suddenly set ablaze, determination burning within those blue orbs.

"Right!" The blonde agrees as she takes on a charging stance once again, horns aimed your way as she smiles with newly hardened resolve. "You better get ready for me then! I won't go easy on you this time, I promise!"

You take on your own stance, spears in hand and at the ready. "Good."

The match continued from there and, true to her word, Pony doesn't hold anything back. It's obvious by the sheer number of horns sent your way, your opponent firing them off at a velocity similar to her classmate's scales. That, coupled with the fact that the other had the ability to control her horns mid-air, left you faced with quite the challenge. On top of dodging and smacking down a multitude of sharp projectiles, you now had to keep an eye open at all times (lest you find yourself literally stabbed in the back). You'd already had a few close calls. Not to mention it was becoming hard for you to land your own attacks against Pony. Most of the time you were preoccupied with fending off the blonde's ranged attacks, and any spears you managed to send her way were soon shot down. You were unable to get closer to the girl.

Needless to say, you were having a hard time.

And boy, did it get your blood pumping.

Little did you know, however, that it would be then that things started to take a turn for the worse.

You swat away an incoming horn, and it only gets a few inches away before your opponent uses her quirk to redirect it towards you once again. Though you try to dodge, you're just not fast enough, and you hiss as the sharp projectile grazes your upper arm.

Frowning at the blood that trickles from your new cut, you don't take notice of the horn sneaking up behind you until it's too late.

You nearly scream as a sharp pain suddenly blossoms along your left leg. The weapons in your hands clatter to the ground. A strangled noise crawls up your throat as your knees buckle, and you glance down to find something all too familiar and all too sharp embedded in the back of your thigh.

Jeez... Pony really wasn't kidding about going all out.

"An excellent surprise attack! What an ingenious way to incapacitate her opponent!" You hear Vlad shout a few yards away. You don't miss the way Pony perks up from her teacher's praise.

The new wound isn't too deep, the horn only in there by a few inches thankfully enough, but you still grimace as you reach down and yank the thing out of your leg.

From the sidelines, Rin purposefully turns his head the other way. He wasn't a fan of gore and though your injury was pretty tame, the sight of Pony's sharp, blood-stained horn being ripped from the meat of your leg was decidedly... not something he wanted to see, thank you.

Now kneeled low on the floor, you drop the horn from your grasp. The pain from your new injury is dulled thanks to all the adrenaline pumping through you. Blood starts to seep out and dampen your pants— Bākōdo will probably chastise you later for the new tear in your costume, but hopefully the boy knew how to sew. With your opponent distracted thanks to her teacher, you reach for your nearest spear before she can send anymore projectiles—

Only to stop short once you sense something coming up towards you from behind. An idea pops into your head.

Was it probably a bad one? Yes.

Were you gonna do it anyway? Also yes.

You duck down at the last second and the deadly object whizzes past overhead. Then, quickly before it can get out of reach, you grab onto the flying horn with both hands. It doesn't seem to slow down any even with you now attached to it, luckily enough, the gathered momentum allowing it to zoom forward without issue.

You probably brought shame to your ancestors, being dragged along the floor like a dead chicken, but it was all worth it to see the look of shock blossom across Pony's face as you rocket straight for her. You were only a yard or so away when your opponent decided to react, sending her horn in the first direction that came to mind.

Up.

And that's how you got to where you were now: several yards up in the air, heart nearly beating out of your chest and gripping onto a levitating horn as if your life depended on it.

A small part of your mind conjures up an image of a kitten hanging from a branch, the words "Hang in there!" slewn across the bottom of a poster.

You tell that small part of your mind to shut up.

From down on the ground, Pony gapes at your dangling body. She hadn't been thinking clearly when she sent you up there, and now with you halfway to the ceiling she wasn't really sure what to do next. The most obvious choice would be to bring you back down, but... Ugh, she already promised not to hold back on you anymore! The last thing she wanted was to break that promise.

And plus, Mr. Vlad was watching. She disappointed him once; she wasn't about to do it again.

"WH-WHOA—!" The horn you're holding onto suddenly jerks with no warning. You feel a part of your soul leave your body as your grip increases tenfold. "H-HEY, WHAT THE HELL—!?"

"Sorry Bestie!" Pony apologizes from down below (not that you dare to even glance her way, hell to the no). Despite her apology, though, she doesn't stop moving her horn until she has you right where she wants you. She looks towards her instructor hopefully.

It's not Vlad King who answers her unspoken question.

"That doesn't count," Aizawa says. Pony squeaks as the Pro's dull eyes bear into her for a brief moment before he turns his gaze towards your dangling form. You were too busy praying to any deity that came to mind to notice, but your opponent currently had you hanging just out of bounds.

"Last I checked the boundary line was laid out on the ground, not the sky. King's not technically out of bounds as far as I'm concerned," your homeroom teacher continues, sounding bored as usual. "Unless you plan on dropping them anytime soon, I suggest you find another way to win this match."

Pony gapes at the man. "Y-you want me to DROP them?! But—!"

The blonde looks to her own teacher for guidance, but finds no sort of salvation. Though visibly peeved by his fellow Pro's lack of tact, Vlad gives a simple nod at Aizawa's words.

"If anything, feel free to keep them hanging," Aizawa continues. He sends another glance towards you, eyes zeroing in on the way your fingers tremble around the horn they're clutching. "As strong as their arms may be, they can't hold on forever."

"Both options are good either way," Bākōdo muses to himself, visibly amused as he watches you hang for your life.

Rin remains silent as he shuffles away from the other boy.

Pony tries to reason with the two Pro's; meanwhile you continue to hang there by your bare hands. You grit your teeth, the weight of your body beginning to cause strain within your arms. Your hands weren't safe either. With how strong your grip was plus the rough and ridged texture of Pony's horn, the skin of your palms and fingers were sure to be littered with calluses once this was all over.

Though your brain was mostly running on irrational fear at this point, the logical side of you was still functional enough to notice just where your opponent had you positioned. One involuntary glance down told you all you needed to know. Whether or not Pony was ruthless enough to let you fall to your (maybe) death was still up to debate, though with how slick with sweat your palms were becoming, it seems that you'd be losing the match either way.

You'd never let yourself live it down if your fear strong dislike of heights was what cost you this win.

And neither would Aizawa, you bet.

So you suck it up. You try your best to eradicate any sense of unease within your brain and, though a large part of you dies on the inside because of this, you start using the weight of your lower body to swing yourself to and fro. This naturally catches the attention of those below, but nobody gets the chance to say a word before you're launching yourself off the levitating horn.

You use the momentum of your fall to land with a roll, body tumbling along the concrete floor with an ease that only came with hours of practice. The second you stop, you swiftly reach up to apply pressure to a specific spot on your wrist cuffs, watching as they split and fall to the floor with a clatter.

Pony watches as you rise from your crouch, blue eyes flickering to the crescent-shaped scars that litter your forearms. Time seems to slow down in that moment, the next few seconds synchronizing with the heavy thump of her heart.

You bring a thumb up to your mouth, jaws wide open and at the ready as your sharp teeth glint harshly in the light. With no hesitation in your eyes, you clamp down onto your scarred finger, drops of red copper immediately slipping down your throat.

The transformation hits you like a train.

Skin shreds apart like taut fabric— bursting at the seams to make room for something newer; something stronger. Every nerve in your body is set ablaze. It starts from down at your hands, then up towards your elbows, and eventually the pain of your muscles being pulled and rearranged has you losing balance.

Your fall practically shakes the ground, arms slamming onto the concrete and causing a few small cracks to blossom in your wake. Crouched low like a predator about to pounce, you growl— a deep rumbling sound that seems to shatter the silence around the room.

From the other side of the arena, Pony chokes on her saliva. Her eyes nearly pop out of her skull as she takes in your new appearance. You were still pretty recognizable in the end, BUT—! AND OH MY GOSH, WAS THAT—?!

"A fucking tail?"

Bākōdo nearly facepalms right then and there. He already knew enough about your quirk beforehand to guess what would happen, but for the love of God, a tail? A fucking TAIL? Getting stabbed in the thigh was bad enough. The lower half of your costume just barely survived the addition of that extra appendage, your pants now practically ripped to shreds! The amount of costume cleanup he'll have to deal with later...

Nevertheless, the boy gets to work. Using the pen in hand, Bākōdo tries his best to achieve your likeness on the paper of his hefty notebook, hand flying across the page as the scritch-scritch-scritch of his pen fills the silence around him.

You were bigger now. Or at least parts of you were. Your arms had grown in size— From the elbow down, both your limbs had both extended and inflated past their normal limit, your skin now replaced by a tough blue-grey hide. Your fingers had been exchanged for large claws and your feet were no different, the thin, spandex-like material wrapped around them now partially in tatters. Those features, plus the tail and various fins sprouting off your body, lent a hand in making you appear more and more like an apex predator of the sea.

Pony flinches when you suddenly take a step towards her, unable to move as you glare right at her. Both your irises and pupils were pure obsidian now, blown so wide she could hardly see the whites surrounding them. Something about your eyes... It was probably the fear, but she found it hard to even look away.

You take another step...

Then another...

She was starting to sweat now. Every inch of her was screaming, begging her to move, but the icy chill running up her spine kept her rooted in place. All she could do was stand there, practically shaking in her horse shoes as you continue to creep closer, your jaw hanging loose to show off your larger, sharper teeth. Something glints from within your open maw, and Pony squints to find...

A second row of teeth.

"I'm so dead," the blonde croaks shakily.

From the sidelines, Rin's fists clench and flex as they lay by his side. He had half a mind to shout at his friend, to do something to snap her out of her scared stupor, but one glance from his teacher made him think better of it.

He wasn't allowed to interfere with the match in any way. Those were the rules.

Everyone watches with bated breath as you stalk closer and closer to your prey. The heavy thump of each step seems to shake the air, the sound causing your opponent's heart to tremble. Her breathing comes out in shallow little puffs, the rate of which starts to pick up as you draw nearer—

Pony holds her breath, eyes clenching shut once you come to a stop just a foot away.

She waits for the pain to start, for the sting of your teeth as they bury themselves in her flesh, for the ache of a new bruise as you roughly shove her out of bounds, SOMETHING—!

The weight of your large hands grip her shoulders, but the touch is much softer than she'd expected. The blonde's eyes blink open in confusion, only to blow wide as you suddenly lift her into the air...

And toss her behind you.

"WAAAH—!"

Pony's scream is cut short as her reflexes take over, two horns shooting off her scalp as she manuvers herself mid-air. Her hooves clatter against the makeshift skates. She hovers above the ground and assesses the scene before her, only to grow befuddled by what she finds.

You hadn't thrown her out of bounds like she'd expected. If anything, you only forced her further into the arena. "Huh...?"

"You pro-mised."

Your voice, now something of a low, wet growl, is like a beacon of light in a heavy fog. Like a moth to a flame, Pony's eyes zero in on your nearby figure. Now with your back towards the boundary line, you face your opponent with a stance that suggested you were ready to pounce, large forearms hanging low as you lean forward, sharp teeth bared.

"Fi-ght me like you m-ean it," you choke out. "Don... Don't be s-cared. Don't hold ba-ck."

Your words are spoken brokenly, every other syllable seemingly getting caught in your throat, and it becomes clear to Pony that speaking in your current form took more effort than one would have thought. Despite this, the blonde gets your message loud and clear.

Well... She did promise you, didn't she?

She'd be a super crappy friend (and an even crappier soulmate) not to keep that promise.

Pony lowers herself back down to the ground, hopping off her horns and raising them higher up near her shoulders, a couple more popping off her scalp to join the rest. Soon the blonde has an arsenal of six sharp projectiles aimed at you. As you crouch lower in preparation to make your move, your opponent closes her eyes to take a deep, steadying breath.

"Okay." Pony's lids shot open as she exhaled, determination glistening in the pools of her blue eyes. "I'm ready!"

You didn't need to be told twice.

You charge the girl with a snarl, quickly creeping towards her on all fours. Your opponent stands her ground, instead choosing to pool her attention into her ranged attacks. There probably wasn't any chance of her putting you out of commision any time soon, not with your current form, BUT! If she took her time and played her cards right...

One.

You lean your weight to the far right, the horn sent your way just barely grazing past your head. Learning from your earlier mistake, you keep the flying missile within your sights. When it comes flying back within reach you swiftly swat it down with your tail, stomping down on the horn until it breaks into pieces.

Two.

The next horn you catch with one of your large claws, your tough hide plus increased strength allowing you to snap the object within your palms.

Three.

You're too slow to react before another pointed object zooms towards you. Suddenly, almost as if you'd been roughly shoved, a strong force strikes you across the shoulder. Horn shards fall free from your large palm as you're knocked off your feet. In the midst of falling backwards, you side eye the projectile now lodged in your left shoulder.

Four.

Eyes clenched shut, you land on your back with a hard thump, the loud sound echoing along Gym Gamma's high ceiling. You hiss in pain, unable to even open your eyes before your discomfort then grows twofold. A whizz of air and a wet piercing sound is all it takes and before you know it, now both your shoulders have matching weapons keeping you down.

Five.

Any attempts to sit up are quickly put to a halt, the horns embedded in your upper body only pushing you back down with every attempt. They were much stronger than they looked (much like their owner). You growl in frustration, thrashing beneath your captor's indirect hold, but go deathly still once you spot the horn positioned right before you, its sharp tip glistening menacingly as it floats mere inches away from your face.

"Ha! Got you!" Your opponent shouts as you lay there on your back. Her disembodied voice reaches out from outside your vision, and something about the way her voice travels across the air seems... off. Craning your neck upwards, mindful of the pointy object hovering just above, your eyes dance along the edges of your vision as you try to spot your opponent.

A giggle reaches your ears and you glance up.

Six.

Pony sits several meters up in the air, perched upon one of her own horns as she gazes down at your prone figure victoriously. "I win!"

With a grunt, you flop your head back down onto the floor. "Sa... Says who?"

"The rules, duh! If you push your opponent out of bounds or incapacitate them, then you win the match," Pony relays, and you don't even need to see her to know she's looking over at Vlad King for his approval. "And since you totally can't move right now, that means this match goes to me!"

"Who says I'm inca... In-capac— Inca-pacit— Can't move?"

"The horn right in front of your face, that's who!"

"Wh-at horn?"

Without hesitation, you open your mouth as far as you can, showing off your rows of sharp teeth as your neck cranes towards the horn above your face. The rest of the gym watches with wide eyes as you ensnare the weapon within your jaw, the first half breaking off from the rest with an audible crunch— Like a Kit-Kat.

Distantly, you hear someone out of vision fumble to form a coherent sentence as you chew. The material in your maw starts to break down into more manageable pieces, and you watch as the other half of Pony's horn falters midair before it flops gracefully onto your face.

Thankfully, what was left of the sharp end was already halfway down your throat.

You wrinkle your nose as the other end of the projectile slides off to land beside your head, a minor scratch being the only casualty from the blow. Then, without wasting another second, you reach up to grip onto the horns still sitting within the flesh of your shoulders, large hands wrapped tightly around the hilts as you pull with all your might.

"Oh God—" Rin gags, quickly turning his whole body to face the other way.

Though not fast enough to escape the image of blood spraying from your shoulders.

"If you're going to be sick then do it outside." Aizawa doesn't even spare the boy a glance (something that earns him a genuine scowl from Vlad King), eyes glued to the match before him. "Better idea: go let Recovery Girl know she'll be expecting some company."

Rin doesn't need to be told twice.

As the boy quickly strides out of the gym, Aizawa scowls as he watches you get to your feet, twin rivers of scarlet now cascading down your body as the bloody horns in your hands are crushed to pieces. The Pro can't help but sigh deeply.

Damnit. Why couldn't you have just tossed that Pony girl out of bounds when you had the chance?

Back in the arena, you do your best to get your bearings as you stand on shaky legs. A dull throb resonates along your upper body, the open wounds upon each shoulder seeming to pulsate with the beat of your heart. The pain is not nearly as strong as it could be, your new form providing you at least that comfort. You were thankful you'd chosen to morph when you had. Otherwise your new wounds, along with the gash along the back of your thigh Pony gave you earlier, would have made standing up in the first place practically impossible, the pain alone keeping you glued to the ground.

Crouching low so that your clawed hands rest upon the floor, you narrow your eyes up at the gaping blonde still perched above you. "You st-abbed me?!"

"Wha—?! You—! You ate my horn!"

"You sta-bbed me... Three t-imes."

"You ATE my HORN! And then you SWALLOWED it!"

"Yeah..." You smack your lips, tongue running along the roof of your mouth. "It was ki-nda dry."

Pony squawks at you (indignantly? Confusedly? It was hard to tell), but you take her momentary distraction as an opportunity to strike back. Swiftly, you grab onto the half of your mid-battle snack that was still intact, the broken horn fitting nicely into your large, rough palms. Drawing your arm back till it's as taut as a bowstring, your eyes zero in on their target in the air. Then, like an arrow finally being released, your arm catapults forward.

"WHOA—!"

Pony just barely manages to dodge the object sent barreling her way, nearly falling off her perch as she quickly maneuvers her horn to the side. The blonde has half a mind to scold you, but the words fall off the tip of her tongue as she watches you move to gather more ammo.

That ammo being the numerous horn debris left from her earlier attacks.

Oh crap.

Those on the sidelines can only watch as you then attempt to shoot your opponent out of the sky, chucking horn fragment after horn fragment at the blonde. The girl tries to counter your attacks, shooting a flurry of deadly torpedos your way. Unfortunately her attempts only seem to fuel your own. You used whatever method possible to crush whatever was sent your way, your reactions fast as you crept around the space of the arena, and your efforts were rewarded with even more ammo to use, countless horn bits beginning to litter the ground.

"Their aim is surprisingly accurate," Vlad King comments to his fellow Pro. The large man takes in the scene playing out before him, scarlet irises watching with rapt attention as his own student struggles in the air.

True to his word, your aim was rather spot on, your opponent's quick thinking seemingly the only thing keeping her afloat— both literally and figuratively. It was a wonder the blonde hadn't fallen off already, her makeshift perch just barely wide enough to fit her.

Aizawa makes a noise of agreement. Brows furrowed in frustration, the man reaches up to grasp onto the cloth wrapped around his neck, his dark eyes taking on a faint, red glow. "Yeah, but having good aim is pointless if your arms are too screwed up to use."

Vlad's eyebrows raise at the man. "You're going to stop the match?"

"Only if King keeps being reckless with their injuries."

Your homeroom teacher had a point. The puncture wounds on your shoulders were still fresh, the top half of your costume turning crusty from the blood that had yet to stop flowing, your pants no better thanks to the gash on your thigh. Your constant movement wasn't doing your injuries any favors. The action of throwing debris after debris was especially unpleasant for your upper body, and you could feel your wounds beginning to take their toll on your performance, your movements growing slow and sluggish.

Your new form, while useful, was also adding to the strain. It took a lot of energy to keep it up in the first place, and you haven't even had the chance to replenish said energy since the last match. At this point your body was running on adrenaline alone.

Your opponent wasn't faring much better.

Pony grits her teeth, a pained groan escaping her throat. The process of shooting off horn after horn only served to make the ache along her scalp worse. They were technically extensions of her body, afterall, so having to replace them constantly was proving to be a total pain in the butt.

(Speaking of butt pain, her horns had lots of uses, but being a comfortable seat? So not one of them.)

Long story short: both you and your opponent wanted this match over with.

And you were rather keen on initiating that sooner than later.

Skidding to a stop near the edge of the arena, you crouch low to the floor. Something along the edge of your vision glints, and you perk up at the sight of one of your forgotten wristcuffs just a few inches away. You swat down an incoming projectile, making sure it's reduced to bits before lifting your gaze to where your opponent seems to be struggling mid-air. You hadn't missed how her aerial assaults had decreased over the course of the match. Luckily your eyesight is good enough for you to spot the way she clutches her skull with one hand, the other grasping onto her perch with bone white knuckles.

Honestly, you were surprised she hadn't fallen by now. Having to keep herself afloat (literally), dodge your attacks, AND launch her own must take a crap ton of concentration and effort. In a way it made you happy— Proud, even. It was nice to know your friend was keeping her promise and taking this match as seriously as you were.

But even so, that didn't change the fact that you wanted to win.

You snatch the nearby wristcuff and move to stand on your feet, sidestepping an incoming attack and letting muscle memory take over as you take on a pitcher's stance.

With a grunt of realization, Vlad King moves to cross his burly arms, ruby eyes trained on you. "Ah, well. That explains the aim."

Nearby, Bākōdo scowls in annoyance. He wasn't really one for sports but he found he suddenly liked baseball a lot less.

Back in the arena, Pony squints down at your figure, her vision having grown fuzzy as her fatigue became worse. She had you cornered now. She just had to keep up her attacks and tire you out. The second you had your guard down, she'd shove you out of bounds and finally get this whole match over with—!

The blonde's eyes widen the moment she spots a piece of steel zooming up towards her. She makes to move out of the way, but...

You miss.

Pony can only blink, watching as the would-be weapon starts to deviate from its path, careening too far to the right just before her.

Huh... Well, it was at least nice to know she wasn't the only one here getting tir—

The blonde is too slow to react before that piece of debris suddenly turns back around and hits her square in the face.

It's dark.

That's the first thing you notice.

The second are the noises. They're distant at first, muffled and warped as if you were hearing them from underwater. Those sounds only start to clear the moment your mind does too, and eventually you have enough sense to register more than just noise.

They're voices. At least two, both locked in conversation from what you can tell.

"—Like some crazy shit out of an action movie! You should have seen it, she was just sitting there and then BAM! Clocked right on the head!"

"Right, yeah, I get that part. What I'm asking is how."

"Two words: Curve ball."

It takes a few tries to open your eyes, the lids somehow heavier than lead, but eventually they manage to flutter open. That only lasts for half a second, though.

"ACK! " You groan, slamming your eyes back shut as a blast of light assaults your irises. The voices around you go silent as you toss an arm over the top half of your face, the lower half tainted with a large, displeased frown. "Jesus! Could someone turn off the lights? Please?"

"Fuck," somebody hisses, "so much for them being in a coma."

"That... Doesn't sound like something to be disappointed about."

The voices go quiet again as you abruptly sit up. Definitely a poor decision on your part as a wave of nausea slams against you immediately after. You sway for a moment, barely processing the sound of rushed shouts. "Wuh... Whoa..."

"Hey, dumbass, be careful!"

"Breathe," another voice insists.

You do as the familiar stranger says, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ground yourself. The need to throw up slowly starts to subside, and eventually your head stops spinning enough for you to safely open your eyes.

Even with your fuzzy vision, you still recognize the figures of both Rin and Bākōdo, both boys standing at the foot of your... Wait, bed?

It's only then that you notice how... comfortable your body seemed to be. Glancing down, your fingers move to grasp the bed sheet draped over your lower half, the material soft to the touch. Your eyes wander from the cloth and down to your own body. A (surprisingly comfy) hospital gown covers most of it. Lifting your head, you quickly scan the area around you.

Three other beds along the wall opposite of you. A potted plant over in the corner. A single sliding door to your left, a large window to your right. Bright, fluorescent lights up above...

"Am I... in the infirmary?"

"No, this is where students go to take naps in hospital beds." Bākōdo scoffs, eyes rolling. "God. You sure you weren't the one who got hit in the head earlier?"

You ignore the shorter student and instead turn towards Rin. Though he was still wearing his hero costume, you try your best to look him in the eye as you ask, "What... What happened again?"

"You don't remember?"

"I... I think I remember eating something? Like a piece of bark?"

If you weren't in such crappy condition, you'd be suspicious of the measurable silence that follows those words.

"Right, uh—" Rin clears his throat. "I'll go ahead and spare you the details. Basically, you got injured in multiple areas and lost a lot of blood. Your shoulders..."

Rin swallows hard, his tone of voice suddenly turning queasy. "Th-they, uh. Probably got the worst of it."

"My shoulders...?" You trail off in confusion. Curious, you hook a finger along the collar of your hospital gown and pull it to the side to find white gauze wrapped neatly around the muscle in question. Repeating the action once again reveals that your opposite shoulder isn't much better. A dull ache resonates from your injuries the longer you look at them. Suddenly, you're hit with memories of twin horns and the wet squelch of pierced flesh.

Grimacing at the mental imagery, you murmur, "Oh. Right. I got stabbed."

"The back of your thigh too," Bākōdo adds, though he both sounds and looks none too pleased with the information. You guess he wasn't too happy about your now ruined costume. "Thanks for that, by the way. As if I didn't have enough shit on my plate to deal with."

"What, you don't know how to sew me a new pair of pants?"

"Fuck if I do. Do these hands look like they were meant for knitting?" The Support Course student holds his gloved hands up for emphasis and you squint at them.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Those things are way too small to really do much of anything, huh?"

"..."

Oh man, if looks could kill.

Much to your luck, Rin chooses that moment to intervene before Bākōdo has the chance to strangle you. "Okay, let's maybe change the subject," he offers, moving to place a hand on the shorter boy's shoulder but thinking better of it at the last second. His hand awkwardly falls back to his side. He turns to you, then, and asks, "Did you have any other questions?"

You stare at the other student, lips pursed as you think for a moment. "...Did I win?"

"That's what you want to know?" The shorter of the two boys squints at you like he didn't want to believe how stupid you were being. "Don't you have more important things to worry about? Like, oh I don't know, your FUCKING INJURIES?"

Despite how inclined he was to agree with the other, Rin answers your question anyway. "You did technically win, but only because you were the last one to pass out."

"I passed out?"

Bākōdo's eyeroll is nearly audible. "What do you think, dumbass?"

"They don't know, that's why they're asking."

Both you and Bākōdo blink at the reprimand. Rin's tone is much more stern than you've ever heard it, sounding almost harsh in a way, and you can only imagine the look he's currently giving the shorter student from behind the makeshift curtain across his eyes. You hadn't expected the raven-haired boy to come to your defense like that.

Neither did he.

Rin tenses the longer the two other students stare at him, and he mentally berates himself for jumping on your side like that. He just didn't like the way the other boy was treating you! NOT because you were his soulmate, of course not, Rin just didn't like when people were rude for no reason!

God, of all the people to stand up for—!

"I-I just, uh! I just mean that...!" Standing straighter, the boy clears his throat as his eyes flicker to the ground behind his mask. "Th-They're injured and confused. They just want to know the answer to their question so there's no reason to be rude about it."

From beside the taller boy, Bākōdo glances over at you and meets your gaze. He has an eyebrow raised in a look that reeks of something you don't quite understand, probably due to the nausea. He was obviously still befuddled by the other boy's odd behavior.

Not that you were about to complain about it.

"Yeah," you parrot to the support student mockingly, "be nice to me, Shortie. I'm injured. And confused."

"Oh, you want injured and confused? Call me that again. I fucking dare you."

"Are you seriously threatening me right now? While I'm in critical condition?"

"You're not dying, you piece of shit! And yeah, I am threatening you. If that's what it'll take for you to shut the fuck up!"

You sigh, head hung low in disappointment. "I thought we were friends, Shortie."

Rin just barely manages to grab the other boy by the collar of his labcoat, catching him mid lunge. As the taller student holds the other by the figurative scruff of the neck, Rin can't help but compare him to a rabid chihuahua or overgrown rat, teeth bared and appearing more threatening than anyone that height had any right to be.

Not that he'd ever say that out loud. He very much enjoyed being alive, unlike you.

Speaking of who, as Rin uneasily sets the other male back on his feet, he sends you a stern look— or at least you assume he does. "Maybe don't tease him so much? It's really not helping."

Chuckling sheepishly, you scratch at your cheek and skirt your gaze away from the other's cloth-covered face. You were starting to understand why Pony didn't like being confronted by the guy.

You might as well be getting scolded by your parents.

"Y-yeah, that's a good point," you say, offering a brief smile before turning your attention to a glowering Bākōdo. "My bad, Shor—Uh..."

Crap, you forgot how to say his name. "...Baka-dou?"

You could practically hear the vein pulsing on the boy's forehead. " Bay-Koo-Dou."

"Eh," you mutter to yourself, "same thing."

"The fuck was that?"

"Nothing, nothing, don't worry about it!" You wave the support student off with an unassuming chuckle, head turning to the side in order to escape his piercing glare. Your gaze halts, however, when you then spot the prone figure laying in the bed to the right of your own. The blonde hair and horns were big enough clues for you to identify your hospital buddy.

"...Pony?" you mutter, more confused than anything. It isn't until your eyes land on the bandages wrapped around the girl's head that you really start to worry.

Hurriedly your legs swing over the bed's edge as you rip the bedsheets off your lower body. Your injured shoulders don't appreciate the move at all if the sudden stab of pain is anything to go by, your thigh singing in agony as your feet hit the cool, tired floor beneath you. Yet you ignore all that in favor of staggering over to Pony's bedside on shaky legs.

"Holy shit, Pony!"

"Hey, be careful! Your injuries haven't healed all the way!"

"Sit your ass back down, dumbass!"

Ignoring the protests from your other two schoolmates, you grasp onto Pony's bedsheets and quickly look her over with wide eyes. Thankfully enough, besides her bandaged scalp and a few other minor scrapes here and there, she seemed alright for the most part. The blonde's face is serene as she lays there, eyes shut as she barely moves a muscle. You nearly give yourself a heart attack as your mind runs a mile a minute.

How long has she been out? What happened to her head? Was she gonna be okay? Will she ever wake up? When—

"Snrrrrrrkk... Mi-mi-mi..."

What.

"Snrrrrrrrrrk...! Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi..."

Oh.

Oh wow.

You quickly slap a hand over your mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle the laughter that so badly wants to escape, your shoulders trembling with the effort. You end up having to squeeze your eyes shut too.

The line of dribble connecting the corner of Pony's mouth to her pillow is almost enough for you to lose it.

Distantly, you process the shuffle of feet as two figures move closer towards you.

"She's faking it," Bākōdo determines, disbelief coating his every word as he comes to stand to your left, Rin just beside him. "Nobody fucking snores like that in real life. That's just some cartoon bullshit."

Rin sighs, a fond smile across his lips as he gazes upon his slumbering classmate. "No, it's definitely real. Trust me."

Hand still over your mouth, you cackle quietly as you watch your unknowing friend snore away peacefully. You reach over to your non-existent pocket on instinct, cursing when you realize you're still very much in a hospital gown with your phone nowhere on your person.

Seemingly reading your thoughts, Rin assures you by saying, "Don't worry, my class has an entire archive dedicated to videos of things like this. I could show you some later, if you want."

The smile on the boy's lips falters just the slightest as he realizes what he's said. You're clueless to the (entirely self-inflicted) confusion that dances within the boy's eyes and merely grin at the offer. "Seriously? That'd be great, Rin, thanks!"

"Uh. Yeah, don't... don't mention it."

Standing between the two of you, Bākōdo gags silently. The action goes entirely unnoticed due to his lack of height.

In fact, your shoulder nearly bowls him over as your body leans closer towards the taller of the two boys, apparently unaware of the support student's presence as you attempt to get closer to Rin. Your interest was clearly piqued. "So when you say, 'things like this', does that mean there's more than just Pony's weird snoring I should look out for?"

"W-well, I... I guess?" Flustered by your ever-growing closeness, Rin internally curses as the temperature of his face starts to go up a few degrees. "My classmates, uh, can get up to some weird stuff sometimes."

"Oh I know. Pony showed me that water fountain."

"Yeah. There's definitely a video of that, I can tell you that much."

Laughing, you say, "You'll have to show me that one too, then!"

"Maybe you should show yourself to your bed first," a new voice suddenly adds.

Before you can so much as question it, your body is swiftly swarmed within a seemingly endless string of cloth. Your confused noises are muffled in a flash, the thin, bandage-like material surprisingly sturdy as it grips your face. With your legs and arms forced to your sides, you probably look something like a D.I.Y. mummy costume gone wrong.

Or like you tumbled off the side of a hill with a roll of toilet paper in hand.

"Seriously, Kid," that voice pipes up yet again, the tone noticeably done with your shit. "When I call you a problem child, that isn't an invitation for you to try and live up to the name."

Despite your newfound immobility, you still manage to twist yourself in a way that allows you to glance back at your sensei, the man glowering under the infirmary's entrance with Vlad King in tow. The shorter of the two men looks incredibly pissed with you. A nervous sweat starts to work itself along your brow.

You go to greet the man, bandages along your mouth be damned, but all you can manage is a muffled yelp as your body is suddenly lifted into the air and then plopped onto your assigned hospital bed with a loud pomf! The stimulation to your injuries makes you wince.

Not that you get much time to complain before your homeroom teacher is on your ass.

Aizawa is looming over your bedside in an instant. You nearly become one with the mattress as you shrink under the man's piercing gaze. "How many injuries do you have?"

"U-um." You blink in confusion. "Three?"

"Have they healed properly?"

"I... No, I don't think so."

"So they still hurt?"

"Yeah—"

"Then why the hell were you out of bed when you should have been resting?" Aizawa asks, voice dangerously low as he stares you down.

You swallow, throat suddenly dryer than the Sahara. "I was— I was just worried about Pony, that's all! I wasn't thinking about myself!"

"Obviously not."

A few feet away, both Rin and Bākōdo watch on (one more happily than the other) as your homeroom teacher proceeds to verbally burn you at the stake, his voice low enough that you were the only one to hear. Not that either boy minded much. If the look on your face was anything to go by, the Pro's lecture was something they could happily live without listening to— Receiving end or not.

Rin takes his eyes away from the scene as Vlad King strides over. "Sensei."

"Rin," the Pro greets back. He briefly appraises Bākōdo as well before turning his attention to the other occupied bed in the room. His shoulders visibly relax as he watches his other student snore away without a care, and he asks, "How has Pony been? I take it that nothing too concerning has happened while Aizawa and I were gone."

"She's been alright. Her stamina thankfully wasn't too low after the fight so Recovery Girl was able to heal most of the damage caused by Pony's fall. For now she's just resting."

"I see." Vlad nods, his scowling face betraying the relief that floods his body. "That's good. I was worried she might have suffered a concussion. She did fall pretty far, afterall."

"Yeah, it was pretty damn gruesome. I'm surprised she didn't break anything," Bākōdo comments with a chuckle, his voice faltering at the looks both Vlad King and Rin fix upon him. "...Sorry."

Just then, the door to the infirmary slides open and conversations dwindle as a short figure steps into the room.

Recovery Girl glances around, two pills in one small hand and a bottle of water in the other. Her brows raise at the small crowd gathered within the room, though her surprise is quickly replaced with exasperation the moment she spots Aizawa looming over your bedside like an overgrown bat.

"Shouta," the small woman reprimands. She walks closer, shooing the man off as she does so. "Get away from there. Can't you see you're scaring the poor thing half to death? Shame on you."

True to the woman's words, your homeroom teacher's threat lecture had left you worse for the wear. Aizawa had chewed you out through and through, his words leaving you now slumped along the bed. One would assume you were a corpse at first glance.

You'd once walked in on your parents making out and not even that had been nearly as traumatizing.

Aizawa narrows his eyes at you one last time before he finally turns his attention towards Recovery Girl, the elderly woman pulling something up to the other side of your bed. "I wouldn't have to scold King if they didn't insist on making such stupid decisions. Like walking around when they should be in bed recovering."

"Oh?" A small clatter has you glancing to your other side to find Recovery Girl climbing onto a stepstool, the Pro placing two pills and a bottled water on the small table beside the head of your bed. With a kind smile, the woman gently pats your head and says, "Well, I'm sure they had a good reason for doing so. Isn't that right, dear?"

...This woman was an angel, you swear.

Nodding, you turn your head over towards the bed beside your own. "My friend..."

Following your line of sight, Recovery Girl smiles. "Well there you go. Young King just wanted to check up on their friend, that's all. I hardly think that's something to reprimand them for, now is it, Shouta?"

Aizawa doesn't answer, only glancing away with a frown on his face.

"Still," the woman continues, that kind smile turning just a bit serious, "your sensei does have a point. I was only able to heal your wounds to a certain extent after your fight, as you can probably tell. It'd be best for you to rest up and regain your energy so you can make a full recovery. That means no more strolling around for you."

You sit up in bed as you're handed that bottled water and those pills. "These should help with any pain you might be in. I'll give you another dose in the next six hours."

You pause midway through chugging your bottle of water (you hadn't realized up until now just how thirsty you were) and gape at the older Pro, brows furrowed. "Six hours? How long am I gonna be here?"

"Seeing as your current stamina is still rather low, Dearie, I'm afraid I won't be able to heal you again until much later."

"So I'll be in bed the whole day?"

"At least until dinner, yes."

Slowly, you lean back till your body meets the mattress, a lazy smile on your face.

Spending the day in bed with a valid, doctor-approved excuse?

Nice.

As you get to work properly situating yourself back in bed, taking your sweet time tucking yourself beneath your sheets, Recovery Girl then turns to where Vlad King stands with the other two students. "Pony will be just fine for the time being," she informs them. "She may be a tad disoriented once she wakes up, but as long as she's not disturbed then she'll be able to make a full recovery in a few hours."

For the first time since you've met him, Vlad King's usual scowl eases down into a soft smile, the new turn of his mouth causing his fangs to peek out a little less from behind his lower lip.

It was a good look on him.

"Thank you, Recovery Girl."

"Of course, of course," the woman says as she waves him off, "it's really no trouble at all—"

GWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

"..."

"..."

All heads turn in your direction and you cringe, wishing more than anything that your mattress would swallow you up right then and there. "S-sorry... I think I'm a little hungry...?"

"No, really?" Bākōdo deadpans and you scowl.

"Oh screw you, Baka-dou!"

"Get bent, dumba—" The support student stops himself short, eyes glancing towards the adults in the room in brief concern. "I mean, stop talking idiot—"

"Lunch will be served in a little bit," Rin purposefully interrupts. He had a sneaking suspicion that most of your interactions with the Support Course student ended pretty loudly, and though he knew you would never do it on purpose, the last thing he wanted was either one of you waking Pony up prematurely. "I'll go and grab you something to eat, if you want."

You gape a little bit at the offer. Rin's sudden thoughtfulness today was still something you weren't quite used to yet. "Wha... Seriously? You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just, uh. Just think of it as my apology. For showing up so late to spar earlier. And for even showing up in the first place even though I said I wasn't going to."

"Hey, you don't need to apologize for that," you insist. "I'm glad you came. I'm pretty sure Pony is, too."

Tentatively, almost as if afraid to do so, Rin's lips ease up into a small smile. Maybe your eyes still hadn't adjusted, but you could have sworn the boy's cheeks grew a few tints pinker as well. "Well, uh... I-I'm glad I came too. Really, though, I wouldn't mind grabbing you something to eat. You'll need the energy. I have to go change out of my costume anyway, so it's the least I can do. I'll be sure to grab something for Pony too."

From beside you, Recovery Girl leans closer to put in her own two cents. "If he really wants to do something nice for you and your friend, then it'd be rather rude to turn him down. Wouldn't it, dear?"

"Just take the food," is all Aizawa says as he stares you down, silently daring you to turn down the extra nutrients.

Right, you thought with an internal scoff, like I'm about to turn down being served lunch in bed.

With a grateful smile aimed Rin's way, you say, "Alright, I guess if you really want to. Thanks, Rin!"

As the boy grows flustered under your sincerity, a much shorter boy can't help but roll his eyes. He takes a silent step forward, then, the infirmary's exit in plain sight.

Unfortunately for him, you were still pretty perceptive despite your current state. Pointing an accusatory finger Bākōdo's way, you ask, "And where the hell do you think you're going?"

The support student doesn't even halt an inch. "Well if I remember correctly, I have to go find you a new pair of pants since your old ones are in fu— Freaking tatters."

"...Oh yeah."

"Putang ina mo bobo ka."

It isn't until the boy is right under the exit that you scramble to say, "H-Hey wait! At least help Rin out before you go."

"Help him with what?" Bākōdo scoffs. "Your bedside service? Yeah right, who do you think I am? Your butler?"

"He's getting lunch for me, Pony, and himself. He's not gonna be able to hold all three lunches on his own."

Only then does Bākōdo finally stop in his tracks. He looks over at you with a scowl, his gaze then settling on Rin for a brief moment, before his eyes return to where you lie in bed. He knew you were right.

And FUCK, did he hate when you were right.

"Fine," the boy all but groans. He points at Rin, the taller boy growing tense under the other's scrutiny. "Get changed, then meet me outside the cafeteria. Don't keep me waiting."

Rin nods. "Uh, right. Got it."

It's then your turn to be pointed at, Bākōdo nearly growling at the self-satisfied smile slewn across your mouth. "The second I'm done helping him out, I'm gone. Don't even try to get me to stick around after."

"Oh hell no. Screw off, please."

With a roll of the eyes, the support student finally crosses the threshold of the doorway, back turned towards you. As he leaves, you manage to shout (not too loudly, in consideration of the sleeping blonde nearby), "Thanks for the help, Shortie! I appreciate it!"

You only manage to catch a glimpse of the boy's enraged face before Rin quickly goes to shut the door.

Even with his eyes hidden from view, you can still feel the unimpressed look the boy levels your way. "I'm starting to think you're doing that on purpose."

The accusation has you glancing away innocently.

"Well then, I suppose my work here is done," says Recovery Girl. The small woman goes to clamber off the stool she stands upon, but not before fixing you with that kind smile of hers. "Sit tight, dearie. I'll be back to check up on you in a little bit, alright?"

A warm feeling blossoms in your heart, and a sudden craving for homemade cookies grows within you. Would it be rude to ask if she had time to bake?

Either way, you send the Pro a thumbs up. "Yes ma'am."

Recovery Girl only chuckles at your formality.

Soon, the elderly woman is up and out of the room, waving goodbye to you and the others as she strolls out the exit. It isn't until everything grows quiet again that you become aware of the presence lurking at your other side. That warm feeling shrivels up as you turn your head to meet your homeroom teacher's sharp gaze.

You can barely keep up eye-contact with the man. "...Aizawa Sensei."

"King." Your teacher doesn't blink at all (those bloodshot eyes of his suddenly made a lot more sense). "I'll be in the teachers lounge prepping some lessons for the school year. It'll take me at least a few hours."

"...Cool?"

"There's nothing cool about having to slave away for the education system."

"R-Right... Not cool, then."

Without warning, Aizawa cranes his head down in your direction. Your eyes widen as the man's pupils glow a faint red, his hair somehow defying gravity as inky strands start to float. Lowly, the Pro says, "I'm going to be very busy for a while. The last thing I want is to have to come back down here because you chose to do something stupid again."

Like a flip was switched, your instructor's eyes fizzle out as his hair falls gracefully back down onto his shoulders. The intense look is now nowhere to be seen. All that's left is his usual bored expression.

"But that won't happen. Will it, King?"

Seconds away from shitting yourself, all you can manage is a meager salute. "Y-Y-Yessir, smart choices only."

"Good."

As he turns to leave, your homeroom teacher pins Rin under his gaze. The boy still stands by the door. "Make sure they stay in bed."

"R-Right, uh, of course," the younger male stutters out. "I— You can count on me."

"We'll see about that."

It seems like an eternity before Aizawa finally steps out of the room, taking the tense atmosphere along with him. You breathe out a huff of relief as Vlad King walks over. He goes to Pony first and, much to your surprise, pats the girl on the head affectionately.

It takes a great deal of effort for you not to go 'aww' out loud.

The large man then turns to you. By now you know better than to take the man's expression at face (hehe) value, and you greet his usual scowl with a smile of your own. That smile only grows as he pats you on the head as well, gentle despite his hands being big enough to crush your skull. You lean into the touch like a dog— Something that makes the large Pro snort in amusement.

"I wouldn't worry about Aizawa. I can't say I know much about his relationship with his students, but I can tell you that he's only so harsh because he cares," Vlad comments as he finishes his little moment of affection. He goes to cross his arms over his large chest, and you just barely manage to maintain eye contact.

(...You sure hope the teachers here didn't wear their hero costumes all the time.)

"From what I've heard, your classmates have had a tendency of getting themselves into trouble on more than one occasion. At this point being reprimanding is just second nature to him."

"Yeah, that... Sounds about right." Laughing, you send the large man before you hold a pair of thumbs up. "Thanks, Mr. Vlad King. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it."

The man nods to you before turning to the exit. He pats Rin's head too on his way out, though the action only lasts for about a few seconds. The man's hand barely makes contact with the top of his student's head— almost as if he didn't want to mess up his hair. Either way, Rin doesn't seem to mind.

"You'll let me know when Pony wakes up, won't you?"

Rin smiles up at his instructor. "You'll be the first to know, Sensei. Uh— Besides Recovery Girl, I mean."

"Alright. I'll be up in the teachers lounge if you need me." Vlad King pauses as he's about to walk out the door. He glances between you and Rin, gruff voice lowered in a conspiring tone. "Actually, just get Recovery Girl to send a message. Something discreet. Can't have Aizawa jumping to conclusions, can we?"

"Good idea, Sensei."

"I like the way you think, Mr. Vlad."

And just like that, you and Rin are left to your own devices.

As you settle back into bed, minding your injuries as you pause for a quick stretch, Rin glances up at the clock perched high upon the opposite wall. "Lunch rolls around in less than 30 minutes," he comments. "I could go change right now and keep you company until then, or I could keep you company now...?"

"Whichever's good with you," you say with an easy smile. Your lack of decision seems to offput the other student, however, so you change course. "Actually... How long have you been wearing your costume?"

"Since this morning. I haven't had the chance to change until now."

"What? Jeez, are you serious? Aren't you sweaty in that thing? I mean we sparred earlier, so you've gotta be."

Flushing in embarrassment, Rin reaches up to fiddle with his hair. "O-Oh, uh, right. Yeah, I guess I do need a shower..."

"Great! It's decided then. You go clean up, meet up with Baka-dou to grab the lunches, and then come back to Pony and me."

You pointedly ignore the way Rin stares at you. "I sure hope you aren't planning on making that nickname a regular thing. I doubt he'll be as enthusiastic about it as you are."

"Probably not," you concede. "I guess I'll just have to use it when he's not around. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"How can you be so sure he won't know?"

You raise an eyebrow at the other student. "Are you gonna tell him about it?"

"...No."

"Well there you go, problem solved."

Rin can't help but sigh at your antics. He supposed if anything, you'd serve as a good warm up for tomorrow when his entire class would finally be reunited. He was already starting to dread having his more... rowdy classmates in the same room.

"Right then," the boy starts, moving to open the infirmary door as he glances up at the clock once more. "I'll get going. Did you want me to grab you anything specific to eat?"

You hum for a moment. "Surprise me. Oh, but could you maybe grab my phone for me? I haven't had the chance to text my family and let them know I'm not dead yet."

"...Yet?"

"I mean, Baka-dou has threatened to strangle me more than once."

The laugh that leaves Rin takes him completely by surprise, and he just barely manages to stop himself before he accidentally startles Pony awake. "R-Right," the boy warbles, a shaky smile upon his face, "I'll, uh, be sure to grab your phone too. Don't worry."

"Thanks, Rin." You worm your way further under your sheets, getting comfy as you attempt to snuggle even deeper into the mattress. The exhaustion was really starting to get to you. Though despite your heavy eyelids, you still make the effort to send the boy by the door the most sincere grin you can muster, eyes crinkling at the corners as you beam appreciatively. "You're a real lifesaver, you know that?"

"...Uh, I... Yes— Yup."

You snort as your eyes finally fall shut. Even as you start drifting off, you can still make out the shuffle of feet as Rin finally leaves the room, shutting the door behind him as he does so. A small part of you mourns the loss of his presence. You'd only officially started talking to him that morning but you had to say...

You liked his company.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the infirmary door, Rin hunches over with a hand covering his burning face.

His heart was pounding.

His blood was rushing.

And to top it all off, he'd just signed himself up to spend the entire rest of the day with you.

...This was not good at all.

Chapter Text

"...You know watching people sleep is usually considered creepy, right?"

The sweet smile upon Pony's lips quickly contorts into a pout, the blonde sending a narrow-eyed look towards the boy sitting at the foot of her infirmary bed. "It's not creepy when I do it."

"I doubt that."

"Oh come on! We're soulmates!" The girl states, her chest puffed out with pride. "Watching them sleep isn't creepy, it's romantic ! It's like we're in a romcom! Ooh, or one of those super fluffy fanfics!"

"...You know the ‘fic’ part stands for fiction, right?"

Rin bites back a smile as his friend pouts even harder, blue eyes narrowed at her classmate like he'd gone too far. "Ugh, Rin! Just let me have this, dang it!"

"Alright, alright," Rin relents, hands held up in surrender. The very corner of his mouth quirks upwards in the barest of smirks as he murmurs, "I still think it's creepy, though."

The boy watches as Pony huffs dramatically and turns her attention away from him. With her head resting in her palms and her elbows sat upon her knees, the blonde's gaze turns dreamy once more as she returns her attention back to her previous source of fascination:

You.

Or more accurately— Unconscious you.

After he'd changed out of his costume and gotten enough food for the three of them (with help from Bākōdo of course, though the shorter boy had all but booked it the second his work was done), Rin came back to find you sound asleep in your bed. Not that he was surprised, considering you'd been on the edge of consciousness when he'd left. If anything the boy had been glad you were out cold.

He couldn't have you smiling at him again. Once was already more than enough, thank you very much.

After finishing his own lunch and tucking the other two away for safekeeping, Rin had pretty much been left on his own— not that he minded much. He was no stranger to a quiet atmosphere. Besides, if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was handling his time productively. One quick stop to his dorm building and he returned to the infirmary with some notes from last year and a few textbooks in hand. He figured since school was just on the horizon, it was better to go over the material and freshen up his mind.

It was only about an hour later that Pony woke up. Rin gave the girl her lunch and answered her questions regarding her match against you. The two of you were weirdly similar in a sense and Rin was amused to hear that her first question regarded who won the fight (though the blonde was rather miffed to learn she lost). Eventually, Rin managed to sweep the other up into his impromptu study session.

Or at least he tried to.

Turns out you were just as much of a challenge asleep as you were awake.

You were long asleep by the time Pony awoke that evening. She'd been a little nauseous and confused, her back had been sore as heck— Ugh, and don't even get her started on the ensuing headache.

Whatever pain she felt in that moment, however, had been immediately forgotten the second she laid eyes on your sleeping face. Never would the blonde have thought she might find someone's way of sleeping cute, but gosh , you were totally blowing her expectations away! What position you were prone to, if you were restless in bed and moved around a lot, whether or not you snored— Pony couldn't help but be enthralled by it all.

You just looked so peaceful, so at ease... It was a side of you she hadn't seen yet.

Something about it felt incredibly intimate.

Pony can't help but giggle at the thought, unfortunately earning her an exasperated look from the boy seated at the foot of her bed.

With a sigh, Rin reaches forward to tap the end of his pencil against his friend's open notebook. The blonde’s own pencil lays across the current page, long forgotten by its owner. With furrowed brows, a sliver of irritation slips into Rin’s voice as he fails to garner the other’s attention. 

"Pony."

No answer.

"Pony!"

"Shhhh!" The girl only swats the boy's pencil away, barely even sparing him a glance as her eyes remain glued to your sleeping form. She watches with rapt attention as you shift under your covers. "Careful! Don't be so loud!"

"You're the one shouting right now, Pony."

The blonde slaps a hand over her mouth. She lowers her voice, words nearly a whisper as she sends the other an apologetic look and says, "Sorry, Rin. I just don't wanna accidentally wake them up!"

"Honestly," Rin mutters as he sends a glance down towards his friend's notes, incomplete and abandoned, "at this point I'm starting to think that might be a good thing."

"What do you mean? Obviously it wouldn't!” Pony hisses cautiously. “What if they wake up all cranky and stuff because we were like, too loud and interrupted a really good dream? I don't want them to be mad at me for something like that!"

"I'm sure if they wanted to be angry about something, you waking them up from a nap would be near the bottom of their list."

Finally, Pony's gaze detaches itself from your snoozing self in order to send her classmate a curious look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well..." Rin's eyes flicker back and forth between his friend and the snoozing figure in the next bed over. "You are the reason they're in the infirmary in the first place."

"Wha...?"

Rin nearly facepalms as the blonde's face scrunches up in befuddlement. With a sigh, the boy sits up straighter in his chair and raises his hands, his fingers curling in the air as he mimics holding something in each hand. Then, with his gaze boring into his friend's for emphasis, Rin makes a brutal stabbing motion and drives both imaginary weapons into his own shoulders, one at a time.

If it weren’t for the horrified look on Pony's face, he might have laughed at the choked gargle that escapes the girl.

Face flushed a violent shade of red, Pony's hand shoots out behind her to grasp the pillow at the head of her bed. It slams down onto her lap and, like the noble ostrich, the blonde slams her head down with an aggressive bow, practically smothering herself as she muffles a scream. 

A looooong, shrill, lung-emptying scream.

Concerned, Rin leans forward. "Hey, don't suffocate yourself—"

"THEY'RE GONNA HATE ME FOREVER NOW!"   Pony practically sobs (though to her credit she at least tries to do so quietly, her voice raspy as she all but whisper-shouts). Rin jolts in surprise as the girl's head suddenly shoots up from the pillow in her lap, face still flushed and her features a mixture of sorrow, regret and shame. "THEY'RE GONNA WAKE UP AND CHARGE ME WITH ATTEMPTED MURDER AND I CAN'T GO TO JAIL RIN I'M TOO YOUNG AND PRISON JUMPSUITS ARE LITERALLY THE UGLIEST THINGS EVER I SWEAR ORANGE IS TOTALLY NOT MY COLOR AND—! A-AND I'M...!"

The blonde slams her head down into her pillow once more. “I’m a bad friend…” 

Rin goes to comfort her again, standing up from his seat as he moves to stand by her side, arm reaching out. He hesitates a moment before eventually settling for an awkward pat on the back. His English wasn’t the best but he managed to catch bits and pieces of his classmate’s worries.

"Pony," he starts in the most soothing voice he can, "you’re not a bad friend. It was a training match, remember? Things like that happen. They didn't seem even remotely angry about it when we were talking earlier. Actually, I'd say they were more surprised than anything."

"Surprised that I betrayed their trust and sent them to the infirmary?" Pony groans, her words muffled as her head remained buried in fabric and cotton.

"Uh. No, more like they were surprised you had the guts to stab them point blank. Twice. In both shoulders and a leg."

Silently, the other student raises her head from its self-appointed prison to stare at her classmate. With her expression flat, she mutters, "No offense, Rin, but... you kinda suck at making me feel better."

"H-Hey, I'm trying my best!"

Watching her friend flounder in indignation manages to hatch a small smile upon Pony's face. With a sigh, she spares a glance to the bed on her left. You hadn't stirred a bit, though whether that was because she'd done her best to quiet her little freakout or because you were just a heavy sleeper was up for debate. 

Pony fiddles with her fingers as they rest upon the pillow in her lap. "You're sure they won't be angry with me?"

With another pat to the girl's back, Rin flashes her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it would take a lot more than some sparring injuries for them to hold a grudge against you. You're their ‘Bestie’, afterall."

That blush from before makes a comeback, though less aggressive and for entirely different reasons.

Pony all but beams at the reminder, a large grin beginning to split her face in two before she suddenly turns bashful. She swats the air shyly, blue eyes glancing away. "Um, well hey! I'm sure they like you too! You guys got to talk while I was out earlier, right? I bet you two got along great!” 

Lips pursed, the blonde sends a sly look the other’s way and continues, “Maybe... You guys even, you know... Got to know each other bet—"

"We—! Uh, should get back to studying."

Pony pouts as her friend suddenly marches back to sit in his chair, his little nervous tic not going unnoticed. Ocean eyes narrow as the boy stiffly takes his seat at the foot of her bed. She analyzes everything from the stiffness of his shoulders, the thin line his mouth had settled into...

The faintest tinge of red along his cheekbones...

A small smirk appears along Pony's lips. She sends a look your way— not that you’re conscious to see it. If you were, you'd liken her to the epitome of smugness, her sapphire eyes glittering like the cat who got the cream. 

Or the horse who got the apple, to be more accurate.

Soon , she thought while tapping her fingertips together like a cartoon villain, very soon...

"Hey, I wasn't kidding about getting back to work."

The blonde snaps out of her internal villain cackle at the sound of tapping. Blinking back to reality, Pony turns to find Rin with a pencil in hand, the end of said writing utensil bouncing on the empty page before her as her friend levels her with his signature stern look.

Pony only stares in confusion, head tilting like a puppy. "Hmm?"

Rin’s expression somehow grows twice as stern. He gestures towards the notebook and open textbook sitting before his friend, his slitted eyes never leaving hers as he says, "Get to studying already. You're supposed to be copying down vocabulary terms, remember? You've done enough ogling for today."

"Wha—? H-Hey! I have NOT been ogling!"

"Right. And the reason you’ve done nothing but stare at them for the last half hour is...?"

"Ugh, sh-shut up!"

It's a beautiful day out. 

The sky is a vibrant shade of blue, wide and vast with barely a cloud to stain its surface, and the sun shines down like a powerful beacon of warmth. You hear the ocean before you see it, crystal clear waves lapping away at the shore in the distance. 

It's just you and your family out today. Besides your mother, your twin and a few lingering seagulls, the beach itself is entirely vacant— empty. By now you were used to the isolation. Secluded by tall cliffs and hidden away from others, this was private property owned by your family. There wasn't a single man-made structure or piece of litter in sight, and the sand...

It clings to your sweaty skin.

Your breath comes out in short, heavy huffs, lungs ragged from overuse. Hunched over on all fours, you can only stare at the sand beneath you, your small hands fisted in the pale grains.

"Again."

It takes more energy than it should for you to raise your head. Your eyes meet your mother's expectant ones, the woman tall and imposing as she stands before you. "M-Mama—"

"Again, [____]. I won't ask a second time."

A whimper escapes you as you hang your head, exhaustion clawing away at you.

Slowly, your mother lowers herself down to your level, the woman taking a knee in the soft sand before you. A hand— rough and scarred from years of hard work— reaches down to take your chin in a gentle grip. Your head is lifted once more and you find your mother's stoic features have softened a degree. There’s a twinge of understanding in her gaze as she says, "I know this is a lot for you, [____]. It was a lot for me too when I was your age. But you have to keep going. You have to get stronger.”

Young and clueless, your head only tilts in confusion. "Why?"

"To make our family proud, of course. Your grandparents expect a lot from you. You don't want to let them down, do you?"

"No... But..." You whine, a frown on your lips as you point over towards your counterpart. "But what about Sammy?"

Your mother glances over to where your twin is exploring some tidepools in the distance. The young child is none the wiser as you continue to gripe and complain.

"How come I'm the only one who has to train? Isn't it Sammy's turn yet? I wanna go play too!"

"No."

You stare up at your mother with wide eyes. Her tone is firm and leaves absolutely no room for argument, but the look on her face as she gazes at your sibling...

She looks sad.

"Sammy can't train with us."

You shift over to a sitting position, your rear end sinking into the warm sand. "Why not, Mama?"

Your mother releases her grip on your chin and instead gently lays it against the top of your head, her features serious in a way you've only ever witnessed during two occasions: hero work…

Or when your grandparents happened to be in the same room.

"Do you remember when you discovered your quirk, [____]?”

You visibly cringe at the memory, your tongue throbbing with phantom pains. "Yeah... I ate that sandwich too fast."

The woman before you chuckles, the hand on your head ruffling your hair. "Yes, that wasn't very fun, was it? Good sandwich, though. More importantly, our family was very happy when they got the news."

"Oh yeah! Grandpa was really excited!" You recall with a smile. The man had called in minutes after the incident, and you spent a good while on the phone with him, giddily listening to him praise you while you nursed your injured tongue.

Maybe it's because you're only seven, but the strain within your mother's smile goes entirely unnoticed by you. "Yes, he was. He wasn't too happy about Sammy, though, was he?"

"Oh..." You glance over in the distance again, your twin now running along the beach as they gleefully chase after some seagulls. You look back up at your mother, a carefree smile on your lips. "Yeah, but that's only because Sammy's a late boomer."*

"Bloomer."

"Yeah, that!"

Your mother opens her mouth like she wants to say more, but she seemingly changes her mind last minute, mouth snapping shut. Instead she sighs and ruffles your hair again. "Yes, Sammy's quirk is taking its time to come out. But for now, there are just some things that she can't do."

"But... I can?"

The woman before you nods. "Yes. That's why you need to work hard. Can't have Sammy catching up too easily, can you?"

You head whips from side-to-side as you frantically shake your head, the need to show up your sibling lighting a competitive spark within you. "No way!"

"Good."

Your mother suddenly stands up from her kneel, briefly dusting the sand off her legs before reaching an arm towards you. Her smile is now faint as you grab onto her offered hand, her voice challenging as she says, "Come. Let’s go one more time and after I’ll take you two for ice cream."

You practically jump to your feet. Beaming up at the woman, your eyes sparkle at the mere mention of a cool treat. "Really?! Can I get two scoops this time? I trained hard!"

Brow raised, your mother puts her hands on her hips and says, "Find the arcsin of 2 squared over 2 in radians."

"...What?"

Your eyes fly open, face scrunched up in confusion.

Your vision is hazy at best, and you squint as you're bombarded with a sudden brightness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. When they do, one look at the tiled ceiling is all it takes for you to realize you're no longer at the beach, the fluorescent lights above you nothing like the dazzling island sun. No more blue sky. No more warm breeze.

No more mom. No more Sammy.

A disgruntled huff sounds to your left as you try to blink the sleep from your eyes. "Ugh, math is totally stupid. Why do we need to even know this stuff in the first place? This isn't gonna help me kick villain butt!"

"No, but it'll help you get a passing grade in Ectoplasm's class."

"Rin, please. You know that's impossible for anyone who isn't Shoda or Shishi."

"I said passing grade , Pony, not top marks." An amused chuckle fills the air. "My hopes for you aren't that high."

"Yeah, exact... HEYYY!"

Stifling a groan, you ever so slightly start to shift in bed, the sheets crinkling quietly as you turn your body towards the commotion. Rin has a chair pulled up to the foot of the bed beside you, his elbows resting against the mattress. Before the boy sits Pony. The blonde is crisscross near the center of her bed, her sheets rumpled and off to the side as she pouts at her friend. Both students have a number of different books between them; however it's obvious at first glance which of the two came more prepared.

Surrounded by stacks of books on either side, Rin seems like he has maybe a little too much on his plate. Raising a brow at the girl across him, he says, "Why are you acting surprised? Math is your worst subject."

"Umm, yeah, but that doesn't mean I want you to remind me!" Pony whines with her arms crossed. "At least lie to me and say that I'm doing good!"

"Hey, not so loud. You'll wake up King."

"Too late."

Two heads snap in your direction at the sound of your groggy voice. The others can only stare as you slowly sit up in bed, releasing a lengthy yawn as you do so. Nodding to your schoolmates, you greet them with a simple, "Morning."

"It's five in the afternoon, actually," Rin corrects.

"Oh… Really? So I've been asleep for, what... Five hours?"

"Pretty much."

"Bestie!" Pony cheers, her blue eyes wide with excitement and aimed right at you. "You're awake!"

Then, like a switch has been flipped, the blonde's large grin quickly falls away and all that's left of her expression is a look of deep shame. You open your mouth to question the sudden change but you're left reeling as she all but shouts, "I'M REALLY SUPER SORRY I STABBED YOU THAT WAS TOTALLY UNCALLED FOR AND I DEFINITELY TOOK IT TOO FAR AND I 100% UNDERSTAND IF YOU'RE MAD AT ME I WOULD BE MAD AT ME TOO—!"

"Whoaaaaaaa! Hey," you say with wide eyes, your hands held up in a placating manner, "slow down and breath for a second, Po. You're starting to turn pink."

Your words don't seem to help that much. Instead your friend turns a shade deeper, looking like she wants nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the mattress beneath her. "S-Sorry! I'm just—! I’m really—!"

"Hey, it's okay," you assure her. "I think I got the gist of it. It’s fine."

Pony lets out a nervous, shaky laugh, her gaze eluding your own as her fingers grasp the pillow sitting in her lap. She has to physically bite her tongue to keep herself from saying more. She's already made herself look like enough of a total idiot in front of you! UGH, she could die from the embarrassment alone!

"Right," you begin, "so first off: the stabbing."

A strangled noise fails to be contained by Pony's tight-lipped frown.

"I'm not mad about it, I promise, so there's no need to freak out. Did it hurt? Obviously, but hey, I knew what I was getting into when I accepted your offer to spar. And plus, it’s been five hours and I'm basically all better now!" You send a pair of enthusiastic thumbs up to your friend. "Second off, you didn't go ' too far '. I mean, I DID ask you to go all out during our fight so I think the only one to blame here it me."

"What? No way, don't say that," Pony insists, brows furrowed as she meets your eyes. "I still shouldn't have hurt you so badly. It was super unfair."

"I had four rows of teeth, Pony. I think fairness got thrown out the window a long time ago."

You can't help but laugh as your friend shudders at the memory. "Please don't remind me. I'm probably gonna have nightmares about it... Um, no offense!"

"None taken."

Smiling (though hesitantly), Pony glances down at her lap for a brief moment as she fiddles with her fingers. There's still a twinge of nervousness in her voice as she meets your eyes once more and asks, "So... You're really not mad at me?"

"Not even a little bit," you respond with a shake of the head. A snort leaves you as you think back to the moment that has the blonde so stressed, the memory playing back in your head in graphic detail. "Actually, I think I'm more impressed than anything."

That gets the girl's attention. Pony perks up at your words, her ocean eyes wide with curiosity. "Really?"

"Well yeah... I mean, you're not the kind of person I'd expect to be so intense during a fight. You just don't really look the type."

"Aww! Thanks, Best—" The blonde suddenly halts mid-sentence. You watch as her expression slowly morphs from one of flattery to something more sour and suspicious. "Wait a minute, what do you mean I don't look the type? What are you trying to say, huh?!"

"I think they were pretty straightforward about it," Rin then pipes up. His classmate gapes at the small smile playing across his lips.

Pony only gapes further when you nod in agreement with the boy, your responding grin not subtle in the slightest. "Yeah! No offense, Po, but I never would’ve thought you had it in you to actually STAB someone more than once. You're just... I don't know—"

"Too friendly?" Rin supplies, and you point to him with an affirming laugh.

"Bingo!"

Pony lets loose an indignant scoff, her sights shifting between you and Rin with nothing short of betrayal in her sapphire irises. "Oh WHATEVER! Just so you guys know, I've totally stabbed other people before! You're not the first!"

"Weirdly, I don't doubt that," you say.

"But maybe don't go shouting about it?" Rin suggests while eyeing the infirmary door with discomfort. "I'm not sure that's the kind of thing you want to be bragging about at school. Or in public. Or just anywhere in general."

Pouting (she seems to be doing that a lot today), Pony can only give her classmate an offended look. "Well, duh! I'm not gonna be telling people that kind of thing while I'm like, out at the mall or something! Like I wanna be arrested, Rin."

"Considering the things I've seen you do, I'm starting to doubt that."

"Hey!"

"Oh right," you pipe up, an excited smirk slinking across your face as you grab the attention of your blonde friend (and at a good time too— The way she angrily grasped her pillow, you're sure to have saved Rin from an attack to the face). "So when were you planning on taking me out for our mall date?"

A moment of silence... And then—

"WHAT?!"

"Ex-Excuse me?"

You can't help but laugh at the expressions on the others' faces, Pony with her eyes so wide you were afraid her eyeballs might fall right out, the blonde's pupils shrunken to the point you could barely spot them. Her face was quickly gaining color like all the blood was suddenly rushing to her head. Meanwhile Rin's complexion was the exact opposite, the boy now pale like a ghost. With his brows furrowed and his mouth left agape, his expression was what you could only describe as "aggressively confused".

(If it weren't for the fact that the aftermath was so funny, you might have questioned such strong reactions.)

"A-A DATE?! WHA—?!" Pony appears to be getting redder by the second. "WH-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I DIDN'T ASK YOU— I MEAN, WHEN—?!"

"And you said yes ?" Her classmate asks in disbelief, staring at you in shock even as Pony whips her head in his direction.

"RIN I SWEAR—!"

Fearful that you were about to witness a double HOMICIDE (read: Pony adding Rin to her growing list of stab victims while her own head implodes like an over-blown balloon), you try to clarify the situation. 

"You said you'd take me shopping if you lost our match, remember? That was the bet we made at breakfast."

Another moment of silence... And then—

"Ohhhhhhhh! Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that!"

Rin's features become hidden as he plants his face in one of his hands, mumbling quietly to himself as his classmate laughs hysterically in her bed.

"Th-That's so—! Holy crap, for a second there I seriously thought—!" Pony's giggles only seem to accentuate her flushed skin, the girl's blush soothing down from a violent red to a much softer pink. Like her lizard-like friend, Pony has her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling as she laughs. It all comes to a stop, though, when the blonde's head suddenly snaps up in your direction. Her smile has been replaced with a frown as she shouts, "You big jerk! Why the heck would you scare me like that?! I could have died!"

Your friend's sudden anger takes you by surprise. "Wait, what? What do you mean, what did I do?"

"Don't call it a date if it's not actually a date, you dumby! Just say you wanna hang out or else you'll give people the wrong idea!"

"S-Sorry," you say. Hands up in surrender, you give the blonde in the other bed an apologetic (albeit confused) look. "I was just joking around. I didn't think you'd take it seriously...?"

"Maybe you shouldn't joke around with things like that," Rin adds. Head free from the confines of his hand, the boy looks like he's just risen from the dead. His eyes were similar to Aizawa's in the way they were tinged with exhaustion, and as he grips at his chest...

If you didn't know any better, you might have guessed he just suffered some sort of heart attack.

Glancing away, Rin begins to fiddle with his hair as he continues, "I mean, uh. Like Pony said, you don't want people getting the wrong idea..."

"Right, no more dating jokes. Got it," you say as you offer the other two a reassuring thumbs up. You weren't too sure why your friend's were so averse to your little slip up, but whatever reason, you would try to respect their boundaries. Eyes narrowed, you stick a finger in Pony's direction and add, "You ARE still taking me shopping though, right?"

Arms crossed, the girl raises an eyebrow teasingly. "Just try not to bleed my wallet too dry."

“Hmmm, no promises.”

“What?!”

"Sorry, Bestie. You lost the bet, you suffer the consequences."

Right then the door to the infirmary slides open. Heads turn towards the sudden interruption, and the three of you offer your own greetings towards the elderly woman at the entrance.

"I apologize for the intrusion," Recovery Girl says, her small frame barely taking up space at the doorway, "but I couldn't help but overhear a commotion earlier. I hope you dears are all alright?"

From the bed to your left, you hear Pony let out a small squeak, her face pinking from embarrassment. "S-Sorry!"

"We're alright, thank you for asking," Rin informs the woman with an apologetic smile. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds before he continues, "There was just a small, uh... misunderstanding, but we've got it sorted out now. Again, sorry for the noise."

Recovery Girl waves a small hand in dismissal. "Oh, don't fret. As long as you’re all alright. Speaking of which..."

You sit up straighter in bed when the Pro's attention then turns to you. You can't help the small pit of worry that starts to grow as the elderly woman observes you quietly for a moment.

"Dear, have you eaten yet?"

Oh.

"Oh." You blink, hand held at your stomach as a sudden wave of hunger hits you square in the gut. Jeez, has your stomach always felt this empty? "I— No, I guess I haven't yet... Rin?"

"I've got it," the boy says, already moving to stand from his seat.

"I'd be quick if I were you," Recovery Girl advises. She chuckles at your visible curiosity. "I doubt it'd look too good if Aizawa happened to visit and found that you weren’t doing your best to recover like you promised."

The mere mention of your sensei was more than enough to steel your resolve. The desperate and hurried look you shoot Rin is almost laughable, memories of ominous black hair and glaring red eyes haunting your mind.

Recovery Girl doesn't stay much longer. A quick check-up on you and Pony (with the promise to return later to heal you both further), and the woman is out of the room. Rin comes back with a tray of food in hand thereafter, though he only hands you your lunch after making you promise not to inhale it all in one go, the way you stared at the meal intense enough to get his Mom Friend Instincts™ a-tingling.

Somewhere while you're in the middle of chowing down, the other two students resume their study session. You watch on as Rin basically spearheads the operation. He seems to be trying his hardest to keep Pony's attention on the task at hand, but the blonde is apparently more interested in you than her studies.

"When we go to the mall, we should totally go to this one place— They've got really cute clothes that I think will fit your style! It's called—!"

"Pony, I'm begging you, please just focus right now."

The blonde puffs out her cheeks, mouth twisted in a frown as she spares a glance towards her classmate. "Rin, don't interrupt! It's rude."

"Need I remind you that YOU'RE the one who asked to join ME?"

"Well I don't want to anymore. I quit."

"Pony—!"

"Why are you guys studying anyways?" You suddenly ask, hand gripping the plastic water bottle that came with your food. You shrug as you raise the rim to your lips. "I mean, what's the rush? School's not happening for another day. You could always continue tomorrow."

The 2-B duo glance at each other with unreadable expressions.

"...School starts tomorrow."

The two other students flinch as you perform an impressive spit take, their arms held up to shield themselves as you spew your water back out.

"UGH! Ewww, Bestie, no—!"

"Crap! Not my favorite sweater—!"

"What do you MEAN school starts tomorrow?!" You nearly scream. Eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, your attention frantically sweeps from Pony to Rin and back again, the poor water bottle in your hands now halfway empty and crumpling under your desperate grasp. "I-I thought we had three days before the school year started!"

Wiping droplets of water (and saliva) from his sleeves, Rin raises an eyebrow at your shocked expression. "We did. It's already been three days. Today's the last."

"...Please say sike."

Sympathetic, Pony shakes her head solemnly. "Sorry, Bestie."

Slowly, silently, you hang your head and bury your face in your hands. A while passes by in total silence, the others in the room growing concerned when you fail to move a muscle or utter a peep. Pony opens her mouth to maybe comfort you in some way.

She doesn't get the chance before you raise your head once more. Shoulders hunched, you avoid eye contact as you clear your throat. "Sooo... You guys wouldn't happen to have room for another, would you?"

The two others meet each others' gazes, smiles of varying degrees upon their faces.

"Say no more, Bestie!"

After polishing off your lunch and giving Rin the keys to your dorm building, the boy returns to the infirmary with your backpack slung over his shoulders, the bag heavy with your collection of brand-new school supplies— Courtesy of Cousin Lani and her rather generous bank account. You'll admit, the woman knows how to push your buttons but at least she was no stooge when it came to spoiling you.

Still didn't excuse her for placing posters of herself in her bathroom, though.

The distance between you and the other students was another hurdle to cross. You couldn't move from your own bed to join Pony on hers, the thought of your homeroom teacher walking in to find you acting against his wishes leaving you (reasonably) paranoid. And so, after much convincing from Pony and some interior redecorating on Rin's part, you soon found your bed pushed up beside the blonde's, your twin mattresses combined to create a queen. All of which was done under Recovery Girl’s permission, of course.

Rin huffs once the deed is done, hands on his knees as he pauses to catch his breath. Physical abilities aside, he understood why his father always seemed to dread the spring season and the house rearranging that came with it. Something about moving furniture was just so... Tiring.

You at least had the decency to thank him for all his hard work.

(Though he could do without the smiling and the fluttery feeling that came along with it.)

Now sat beside Pony, you do your best to listen and pay attention as the 2-B duo fill you in on all the material they'd learned the previous year. You took it all one subject at a time. The last thing you wanted was to be too overwhelmed. With the help of your schoolmates, you went over various units and curriculums, soaking up any information that might help you in the upcoming school year.

Complex trigonometry equations, literary analysis essays long enough to be books themselves, and even a few projects for Modern Art History… You sure had your work cut out for you. Sure, you had spent a good amount of time studying up on all these subjects beforehand, both your mother and older cousin insistent that you prepare, but still. 

At the very least, you were grateful to have the other two students helping you out. Between Rin allowing you to copy off his (astoundingly neat) notes and Pony switching to English when you were in need of simplicity…

If it weren't for them, Power Loader's warning about falling behind your classmates wouldn’t have been in vain.

Right now you were working on your writing ability. Fingers clutching your mechanical pencil, you stare in concentration as you write your name in Katakana, your wrist tilting with practiced ease.

"Hey, that looks great!" Pony compliments from beside you. Her head is nearly resting upon your shoulder at this point, the blonde having been inching closer and closer for the last hour or so.

You smile back at the girl, grateful that your handwriting didn't look as bad as your Cousin Lani had claimed (curse that damn woman). "Thanks. It was literally the first thing I had to learn when I was told I'd be coming over here, so I guess I’ve just gotten really good at it."

Pony nods and reaches for one of your other notebooks. Green and of the Campus brand, the first few pages were full of vocabulary terms and phrases you figured were vital for your stay in Japan. Beaming, the blonde beside you sounds impressed as she scans through page-to-page. "Wow, you really know your stuff! This is like, waaaay better than when I was first starting out."

"Hey, don't say that. I'm sure you were great!"

Pony only giggles nervously. "N-No, trust me... I was kind of a slacker back then."

"That's putting it mildly," Rin points out mercilessly. He raises an eyebrow when his classmate opens her mouth, an argument on the tip of her tongue, but he shuts that down pretty quick. "Last year you had to get tutored by three of our classmates at the same time the day before a big test because instead of studying, you were watching anime."

Pony splutters out a reply, her cheeks gaining color quick. "Th-That is SO unfair! My Average Citizen Academy was streaming its new season and— Ugh, if I didn't see it for myself then Fukidashi was TOTALLY gonna spoil it for me!"

"Right. And you thought that was more important than a test worth a good percentage of your grade."

"Oh my gosh— STOP IT! I GET IT ALREADY!"

You snicker as the girl beside you snatches up the pillow that’s been resting in her lap, presumably to bury her red face in it. With a comforting pat to her shoulder, you sigh and shake your head in faux disappointment. "Damn, and here I was about to suggest putting together a study group. That's too bad."

Pony's head is up from the pillow in the blink of an eye. "Wait, what? No! We can totally still do that!"

"Yeah right," you scoff and throw her a doubtful look. "I'm already a bad enough procrastinator as is. I don't need you distracting me even more. You'd probably just rope me into some debate about which traveling companion Ash Ketchum should end up with."

"I wouldn't do that! I mean... It's obviously not gonna be Bianca since like, she was literally just a Pokemon is disguise—"

"See? You're doing it right now!"

"Hngh—!"

"At the very least, I'll be there to keep you on track," Rin suddenly says, a small smirk on his face as he levels Pony with a look. "Though I'd rather spend time actually studying instead of reminding you to focus, if you don't mind."

Pony only blinks at the boy's statement. Her blue eyes flicker to you for a brief second before she shoots her classmate a surprised look. "Oh, did you wanna study with us, Rin?"

"...Yes? We’re talking about putting together a study group, aren’t we?"

"Well, yeah," you say hesitantly. You motion between Pony and you as you continue. "But I kinda meant it as just the two of us? I didn’t know you wanted to come.”

"What do you... Oh." 

Confusion slowly morphs into realization, which in turn morphs into embarrassment. Ducking his head down, Rin stares down at his notes with something akin to shame. "Uh. S-Sorry... I shouldn't have assumed—"

You quickly wave your hands at the boy, eyes wide as you try to clear up the misunderstanding. "No no no, I didn't mean it like that! We'd love to have you with us! That'd be great— Awesome, actually!"

Pony rapidly nods along with you. "Yeah! Like, SUPER awesome!"

“I think you’d make a great addition! Three heads are better than two or however it goes!”

“Yeah like, WAY better than two!”

"R-Right, no, I—" Rin breaks off with a chuckle, unable to help himself as the corner of his mouth quirks upwards. "I got it, thanks."

The three of you laugh to yourselves for a bit, the once tense atmosphere dissipating just as quickly as it had appeared. You internally release a sigh of relief. 

Crisis averted! 

"Sorry about that,” you start, “I guess I was just surprised you even needed to be part of a study group. I mean, Po keeps telling me about how good your grades are and how you're one of the smartest people in your class... I just kind of assumed you were good to go as far as school work and stuff."

Cheeks gaining a subtle flush, Rin sends a strong look towards the blonde in question (who conveniently finds an intense interest in her nails at that very moment). The glare is brief enough that you don't catch it before the boy meets your smile with one of his own. "It's fine. I don't technically need the extra help, but I know for sure that Pony does—"

"Hey!"

"—And besides, studying can be pretty fun when you're with friends." Reaching for his hair, Rin's eyes grow nervous as he adds, "I... Uh. At least I wouldn't mind the company..."

You grin at the boy. "Me neither. If we're really gonna do this then, can you hand me my phone? You brought it like I asked, right?"

"Of course." Standing from his seat and turning towards a nearby countertop, Rin pointedly ignores the Cheshire smile creeping along his classmate's face. He keeps it up even as he turns back to hand you your phone, though his averted gaze doesn’t stop him from being all too aware of the girl's satisfied expression.

(Leave it to Pony to make him regret saying nice things to you.)

Oblivious to the sudden tension in the air, you turn on your phone and quickly navigate to your contacts. "Cool, thanks. So I figured we could hand each other our numbers now? We can worry about what days to get together when school takes off and they start handing out homework."

"Me and Rin already have a group chat going, actually," Pony pipes up. Her body almost leans against you as she peeks down at your screen. "We made it so we could meet up at the airport a few days ago. We can just add you to it! Rin, give me my phone!"

The boy in question only levels her with a look.

" Please ."

"You really need to work on your manners."

"Still not as bad as Awase or Tetsu, though!"

Rin rolls his eyes as he gets up from his seat once again. "Nearly."

About a minute later you receive a message from a pair of unknown numbers, a simple (but tasteful) "uwu" greeting you upon clicking the notification. After adding the other's numbers to your list of contacts, you try your luck and ask for a favor.

"It’s just to let my family know I'm okay," you explain as you raise your phone in position for a selfie.

Pony agrees readily, immediately pulling off a pose with both her hands held in peace signs, and though he's a bit reluctant, Rin eventually agrees as well. With the added promise of sending it to the group chat, you snap the picture. Once it's been sent to your family and new friends alike, you quickly place it as far from your person as possible. As much as you wanted to see what your family had to say, you were still in the middle of a study session.

No distractions needed here.

After that, you and the others quickly settle back into the groove of things— With the added benefit of something extra. You're not sure what it is, but somehow the workflow between the three of you increases. You make even fewer mistakes as you practice your Kanji, Rin spouts off vocab terms and informational bits and pieces like it was a second language and hell, Pony actually manages to stay focused for the most part. Sure, she’ll get distracted once in a while, but thankfully she's back on track before anyone (Rin) has to remind her.

All your earlier worries about possibly falling behind have practically evaporated. The anxiety is no more, your heart now filled with a sense of confidence that puts you at ease.

Not even those complex trig equations from earlier were as intimidating as they were before.

The three of you continue on like this for a few more hours. Sometimes you'd glance out a nearby window in a small act of reprieve, and everytime you did the sky seemed to dim further and further, the sun outside sinking down towards the horizon and drowning the world outside in a blanket of darkness. Eventually you couldn't even make out the stars. All that greeted you was your own reflection, the fluorescent lights above you outshining the night sky and turning the windows into a black and glossy mirror.

It's while you're in the midst of quizzing Rin on rescue techniques that Recovery Girl walks back into the room. You look up from the stack of cue cards in your hands, a smile swiftly finding its way onto your face as you wave to the elderly woman.

She smiles as she patters into the room, a plastic bag in hand. She places it on a nearby counter as someone much larger follows close behind. "Good evening! I hope you dears are hungry."

Your smile widens even further as Cementoss then steps in behind his coworker, the large man having to duck down to keep from knocking against the top of the doorframe. "Mr. Cementoss! Hi!'

"Young King," the Pro greets back, features relaxed as he sends you and your schoolmates a simple nod. His right hand is held out before him, palm up and still as stone (hehe) in order to balance the trio of cafeteria trays sitting there. The smell of spaghetti and meatballs makes your stomach growl quietly. "How have you been? I heard you and Young Tsunitori injured yourselves rather badly this morning."

Subconsciously, you reach up to rub at one of your shoulders with a chuckle. "Yeah, I may or may not have been stabbed a few times—"

You sense the blonde beside you stiffen at the reminder.

"—but I'm all better now. Well mostly, anyways. I’m still a little sore."

"Oh don't worry, Dear," Recover Girl assures as she tots over to her trusty stool in the corner, a warm smile sent your way. "Soon you won't be able to feel any pain at all. As long as you don't mind me giving you a little smooch, that is."

You tap a finger against your left cheek in encouragement. "If it'll get me out of here then sure thing. Oh, uh, no offense."

"None taken, Dearie."

As you patiently wait for the elderly Pro to climb upon her stool and plant one on you, Cementos ambles around to the opposite side of the bed(s). His hands, though big and clunky (and pretty much literal slabs of concrete), seem to come in handy this instance. It's almost impressive, the way he manages to balance three trays of food within a single wide palm like it was nothing. 

Rin and Pony grab their own trays and offer their gratitude, meanwhile Recovery Girl gets to work healing you. The pressure of the woman's lips against your cheek has you tilting your head slightly. The force of the kiss has you squeezing your eyes shut.

"Mmmmmm-wha!"

Immediately, you shiver as a warm sensation floods through your veins. Your muscles tingle pleasantly as the Pro's quirk does its job, the tension of your body (shoulders especially) slowly ebbing away. Soon the soreness from earlier is gone entirely.

Eyes wide with awe, you rotate both your shoulders, then reach down to poke at the back of your thigh.

Not even a flicker of pain.

If you didn't know any better, you might have thought you'd dreamt up being stabbed three times. Eyes wide, you regard your own body with awe. "Whoa..."

"Amazing, right?" Pony giggles at your gaping expression, twirling a fork around in her spaghetti.

"Yeah," you agree. Slumping forward just a bit, you rub at your suddenly-droopy eyes and stifle a yawn. "But do feel kinda tired now."

Rin nods along, momentarily glancing up from his lunch to send you a reassuring look. "Recovery Girl's quirk requires stamina in exchange for healing, so feeling sluggish is just a normal side effect. You'll feel better once you eat."

"Miss Recovery Girl's quirk is like, super cool, huh? I don't even wanna think about what it'd be like if we didn't have her around!" Pony gushes. "She's a total lifesaver! Literally!"

The woman in question swats at the air bashfully, cheeks rosy at the blonde's kind words. "Why thank you, Pony. I'm glad you think so highly of me."

"Aww, of course!"

Once you've been healed, Cementoss assists his fellow Pro Hero by gingerly plucking up her stool with his large fingers and placing it on Pony's side of the bed, allowing Recovery Girl quick and easy access to the yet-to-be-healed blonde. Afterward, Cementoss comes around to your side and offers the last of the dinner trays to you.

You can't help but snort at the sight. It took the average person two hands to balance one of those trays, but this hulking cinderblock of a man might as well be holding a small stick of gum in the palm of his hand.

"Thanks, Mr. Cementos," you say as you grab your dinner. Careful to keep all the tray's contents balanced, you shoot the man a smile. "How did you know I liked spaghetti?"

"I've yet to meet someone who doesn't."

"...Fair enough."

With you and Pony now fully healed, Recovery Girl informs that the two of you are free to head out once you've finished your meals.

"Unless you'd rather stay overnight, though I wouldn't recommend doing so. You'll need an early start for your first day of classes tomorrow," the elderly woman says, chuckling as you visibly cringe at the reminder. She then reaches for that plastic bag from earlier and gently places it on the bed before you and Pony. "Both Vlad and Aizawa were kind enough to bring your tracksuits to my office earlier so neither of you dears will have to walk back to your dorms in just hospital rags. You can drop off your gowns in that hamper in the corner."

Her work done, Recovery Girl exits the room (though not before making the three of you promise to swing by her office on your way out to say goodbye). The only adult left, Cementoss, turns towards the three students with his features as stony as ever. The Pro bows his head and says, "Enjoy your dinner. You'll need the energy if you want to face tomorrow feeling well."

You don't miss the subtle gleam in his eyes when the man raises his head again. "I look forward to seeing you in class."

Even if they weren't meant for you specifically, those words cause a grin to spread across your face.

Soon enough Cementoss leaves as well, leaving your little trio to eat dinner in comfortable silence. With a meatball halfway to your mouth, you ask, "So is his class one of the easier ones or...?"

Looking up from his own food, Rin stares, face blank. "This is one of if not the top hero academies in all the country. There is no such thing as an easy class."

"...Shit."

After gathering up your individual materials and stopping by her office to bid Recovery Girl farewell, the three of you make your way back to the dorms. You were glad that Aizawa had thought ahead and dropped off your school-issued tracksuit. The air outside was cool and plenty breezy, and you doubt your old hospital gown would have provided as much insulation.

Plus, you didn't look half bad in the U.A. tracksuit. Whoever designed it must have been a Pro in their own right because you were sure that just about anyone could pull it off.

While walking through the school courtyard, you can’t help but huff a little. All you could think about was school. Even after spending the majority of the day hitting the books, you were still a bit anxious about tomorrow. 

Somehow, Pony senses this. You ask her about it once she points it out, though what comes out of her mouth is not what you expected.

"Horses have a sixth sense," the blonde explains empathetically. One hand clutching the strap of her denim messenger bag while the other lays across her heart, she continues by saying, "We're super sensitive creatures. Our intuition is like, crazy good which is why we’re able to sense when things aren’t right."

"Wh-What do you mean ‘ we ’?" You ask, incredulous. You can't help but stare at the blonde like she was batshit insane. "You're not even a real horse!"

"Bestie. My name is literally Pony."

"You. Have HORNS. Horses don't have those."

"They have hooves, though. And, oh my gosh , would you look at that? So do I."

Walking beside you on your right, Rin just shakes his head with a sigh. He's subtle as he leans closer to whisper, "Just let it go. This is not the kind of hill you want to die on, trust me."

Begrudgingly, you snap your mouth shut and keep it that way for the rest of your trek. You make a mental reminder to circle back to this discussion another time, only half paying attention as the blonde of the group insists on giving you a little extra something to help boost your confidence for tomorrow.

It isn't until you're standing in the middle of class 2-B's living area that you snap back to reality.

Pony had practically galloped upstairs the second she burst through the front door, unintentionally leaving you behind in the dust of her excitement. Being the person he was, Rin took it upon himself to keep you company while his classmate went to fetch whatever it was she wanted to give you. He definitely plans on scolding her for abandoning you without even a goodbye (as brief as it might've been). For now, though, he didn't mind waiting downstairs with you.

...Because he liked being polite. That's it. No other reason.

"Whoa," you mutter as you slowly spin in place, taking everything in.

Nearby, Rin sets his own school bag on one of the sofas. He looks back at you, silently amused as he watches you observe the space around you like you were at a museum. "Something wrong?"

"No, it’s just… Your living room looks exactly like mine."

"...Is there any reason it wouldn’t?"

"Ah… G-Good point," you confess, your face growing warm with embarrassment. In an attempt to change the subject, you clear your throat and direct a fingergun the boy's way, a grin on your face. "I guess you really are a Common Sense King, huh?"

Rin actually rolls his eyes at that, much to your surprise. "Please don't tell me that nickname's going to carry on in our second year too."

You laugh a little, the displeased frown engrained along the boy's mouth a new sight for you. "What, you don't like it? But Pony said that's what everyone calls you."

"It is, but that doesn't mean I like it. I'm not exactly a fan of being known as one of the only few people in our class with an ounce of common sense," the other grumbles. With a sigh, he hangs his head to send a forlorn look at the floor. "Being the responsible friend isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be."

Snickering, you shrug. "Probably not, no. But hey, at least you're good at it! If I had to choose anyone to be the group braincell, I'd definitely want you."

Rin keeps his head down. Though he doesn't move, Rin's whole body goes tense at your sentiment. 

I’d definitely want you.

You obviously didn’t mean it the way his stupid heart thought you meant it, but that doesn’t stop said stupid heart from trying to beat out of his chest. 

(God, he hopes his face wasn't as red as it felt.)

Thankfully, as if sensing her friend's distress, Pony comes bounding down the stairs, the sound of her hooves pounding upon the hardwood steps only growing louder as she descends ever closer. In no time at all does a blonde head of hair pop into sight. Her giddiness is obvious in the way she skips over, golden locks bouncing and a wide grin causing her eyes to crinkle.

"Okay," she giggles as she comes to a stop a few feet before you. "Close your eyes!"

Skeptical, you raise a brow and make a show of glancing down to where she has her hands behind her back. "You're not gonna pull a water gun out on me, are you? Because that's not really my idea of helping someone out."

“What? No. Why the heck would you think that?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been burned enough times to know better,” you say with a frown. You could already hear the phantom sound of your brother’s obnoxious laughter. 

“I think the word would be splashed, then,” Rin points out offhandedly. “You’ve been splashed enough times to know better? Just technically speaking, anyway.”

“No no, I like that. That sounds good.”

“Oh my gosh, would you just CLOSE YOUR EYES already?! I’m trying to give you a present here, gosh dangit!” Pony complains in exasperation, one hoof coming down upon the hardwood floor in a powerful stomp. She sends you and Rin dirty looks, eyes narrowing as she watches you put your hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay, I’m closing my eyes. See?” 

“No peeking!”

“Right. I got it.”

“And Rin, no more interrupting! That includes correcting our grammar!”

You can imagine the boy in question sending his classmate a raised brow as he says, “Even if it’s really bad?”

“Riiiiiinnnnnn!”

“Alright, yes, I’ll keep quiet. Don’t shout so much or you’ll wake the neighbors.”

“...What neighbors?” you can’t help but ask under your breath. Your question goes unanswered as the blonde of the group shushes you, and you’re left standing there with your eyes shut as a silence fills the air. You’re asked to hold your hands out and you do so diligently, keeping your eyes shut all the while. It doesn’t take long before a steady weight settles into your hands

A quiet squeal reaches your ears before you're told, "Okay! You can look now!"

Your gaze has already shifted down before you even open your eyes.

In your hands lies a notebook. Flimsy and pliable in a way that only something well worn-out could be, the cover is mostly pink with varying degrees of purples, magentas and whites swirling around in winding patterns. The words “ Be Your Own STAR ” sit there in bold letters but you barely even process their existence because what catches your attention more than anything else, what sits there taking up nearly half of the front cover in all her gold, glittery glory...

Fucking Hannah Montana.

"Pony..."

"Yeeeeesss?"

Your face is lacking in expression as you stare down at young Miley Cyrus and her early 2000's bangs. "When you said you wanted to give me something to help me out, I thought you meant a textbook or something. Not... Your diary."

"It's not a diary" your friend protests, hands on her hips and her brows furrowed in offense. "It's just like, a normal notebook."

"Yeah. With Hannah Montana smack dab on the front."

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH—?! Ugh, w-whatever, shut up!" Though she's frowning, the blonde's cheeks turn rosy with obvious embarrassment. Nose upturned, she swivels her head away from you. "I gave it to you because there’s like, some super important information in there."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" You snort.

"Like which teachers like to pull pop-quizzes and when they like to pull them."

"I— What?"

Standing behind his classmate, Rin seems just about as lost.

"Yeah, pretty much all our teachers like to spring pop quizzes on us out of nowhere. My grades were kinda crappy and I totally hate surprise tests, though, so I did a little bit of analysis on all the staff to get a feel for their personality and their possible habits. That way I'd be prepared,” Pony explains. There’s an uncanny amount of seriousness in her expression as continues. “Like for example, Miss Midnight only ever pulls a pop quiz on the last day of every month, but Mr. Mic is the literal opposite and always does it on the first day of every month. And then there’s Mr. Cementoss. He doesn't even DO pop quizzes. I think he like, doesn't believe in them or something?"

Shrugging, Pony shoots you a smile as she starts to twirl a lock of golden hair around her finger. "Anyways, there's also other stuff in there like their schedules, what their likes and dislikes are… Their birthdays, Zodiac signs, allergies, age, if their single or dating or married—"

"Who even are you?" 

Pony merely blinks at your shocked (read: horrified) expression. Tilting her head with a smile, the girl giggles, "I'm your Bestie! Duh!"

You shoot Rin a wide-eyed glance, hopeful for some answers. 

Unfortunately, he seems too preoccupied with staring a hole into the back of Pony’s skull, bewilderment written all over his face.

"O-Okay," you start, choosing to shut off your brain and move on. You spare another glance down towards the notebook in your hands, grimacing slightly as Hannah Montana stares right back at you. "So... This'll really help me with school?"

"Totally," Pony insists with a nod. "Trust me, the last thing you want is to be caught off guard by a surprise test, especially since some teachers can be super harsh when grading."

“Really? Like who?”

“Oh, you know… Just a few peop—”

“Aizawa?”

“Yup. Especially him.”

You flop your head back and release a lengthy groan, staring up at the heavens with remorse. “I’m so screwed. Can you even fail homeroom? Because I feel like I’m about to.”

Pony gives you a sympathetic look. “Well hey, at least his husband isn’t as harsh about grades. You’ll probably do great in his class!”

“Thanks, P— Wait, did you say husband?” You nearly snap your own neck with how fast your head snaps back upright. “Aizawa Sensei is married? To another teacher at this school? Who the hell is it?!”

Instead of a verbal answer, your blonde friend merely eyes the notebook in your hands. You can’t help but snort as she sends you a wink.

You spare another glance down at Hannah Montana, the way her bedazzled belt buckle glitters rather enticing. A thoughtful hum rumbles within your chest as you thumb the notebook’s pages.

Informational and full of gossip? You ought to give Pony more credit.

Speaking of the blonde, she takes your brief silence as an invitation to step closer and place her hands upon your shoulders. You’re given a gentle squeeze as your friend’s face lights up with encouragement. "Loosen up a little, won’t you? I was nervous my first day too, and I mean just look at me now!”

“A chronic procrastinator,” Rin sums up (un)helpfully. He remains unfazed when his classmate shoots him a simmering glare.

“Well I think I’m doing just fine,” Pony grumbles as she turns back to you, her pout disappearing as she meets your eyes once more. “But anyways— You’ll be fine tomorrow, trust me! The homework isn’t as hard it looks. If you REALLY want something to worry about, though, then just wait till you start heroics training.” 

You mutter a curse. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Uh,” Rin stalls as he reaches up to rub at the nape of his neck, “statistically speaking, expect to pass out at least once this year.”

Pony shrugs as you release a sigh, your shoulders sagging beneath her grip. “Well… Passing out from excessive physical exertion is better than passing out from a super hard trig test, right?” The blonde tries, her lips quirked up into a small, lopsided grin.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I’d take sore muscles over math-induced migraines any day,” you agree. You place a hand over Pony’s, not paying much mind to the way her grip tightens on your shoulder as you tell her in earnest, “Thanks, Po. I appreciate the help... Even if that help has Hannah Montana on the cover where she can stare into my soul.”

Pony doesn't have half a mind to quip back at you, the feeling of your skin atop hers leaving her skin ablaze and her heart beating a mile a minute. All she can do is beam at you, her face nearly splitting in half with her smile.

(But gosh was it worth it just to hear you laugh.)

Eventually you leave for your own dorm. You exchange goodbyes with the other two, your newly gifted piece of Hannah Montana memorabilia safe within the confines of your schoolbag. Though your departure brought about a disappointed pout from one of your friends ( cough cough PONY cough cough ), you assured them that you'd take the time to meet up again tomorrow, classes be damned.

Plus, you would hate to skip out on sleep. The last thing you needed was to show up late on your first day and induce Aizawa Sensei’s wrath.

It's as you're turning the key to your dorm's front door, the night breeze sweeping against your skin, that you hear your phone buzz with a notification. You reach around in your bag for a bit before you find it, immediately turning the brightness down to keep you from losing your vision. Even as you blink away the dark spots dancing around your eyes, you can't help the small smile that creeps along your face as you find a text message from your mother.

Mom: Delores showed me the picture you sent earlier. You look like you're making friends. That's good.

Your keys are left dangling in the door as your fingers find your phone. They hover over the screen for a moment as you try to think up a response. It wasn’t often you and your mother texted each other directly, so you always took care with what you said to her.

You: Yeah they're pretty cool

You: You'd like them

Mom: Yes maybe. Now go to bed. You have school tomorrow. You need sleep to get good grades.

You: Yes ma'am

You: Goodnight

Mom: Goodnight.

You: I lov

Quickly, you delete what little you had of that last message.

A quiet sigh escapes you. You tuck away your phone with a yawn and finally slip through the front door, suddenly exhausted.

You’re completely unaware of the chaos going down in the dorm building beside yours.

" AnD yOu SaId YeS ?'" Pony snarks, voice pitched in a crude imitation of the boy walking ahead of her on the stairs— Said boy letting out a huff as his classmate reenacts the events from earlier that day, his words coming back to bite him. "You don't think they'd say yes if I asked them on a date? Huh? Is that it?!"

"Pony, you've known each other for three days."

"So? We're soulmates!"

"They don't know that!" Rin nearly shouts, coming to a halt and turning back towards the girl behind him, arms thrown up in exasperation. Seeing his classmate's eyes go wide at his dramatics, Rin lowers his limbs back down awkwardly. He clears his throat. "U-Uh. Sorry."

Pony tries her best to smother an upcoming smile. To be honest, she didn't really have it in her to be mad at the boy. Especially not with all the progress he's made with you— First during the sparring matches, then earlier in the infirmary, that collective study session and soon sometime in the future when they all got together for their STUDY GROUP! WHICH RIN AGREED TO!

Watching her classmate recommend textbooks to you totally shouldn't have made her as giddy as it did. But hey— She’s only human!

Crossing her arms, Pony cocks her hip to the side and smirks. "Still, you didn't have to sound so surprised back there."

Rin chuckles, "Yeah, you're right. Sorry about that. I guess I was just... Shocked. I mean, I know now you didn't actually ask them on a date but still. I didn't think you had the guts to be so forward."

Pony huffs and rolls her eyes, though both actions lack any actual bite. She playfully punches the other student and says, "Well for your information, I could totally sweep them off their feet whenever I want to."

"Uh-huh. Right," Rin deadpans.

Ignoring the other student, Pony moves to walk ahead of him on the stairs, her head held high as she struts past him with an air of confidence. She doesn't spare her friend a backwards glance even as he starts to follow after her. "It's true! I could ask them out right now and they wouldn’t even HESITATE to say yes!"

"Sure."

"I just choose not to do it yet cuz I don't wanna leave you in the dust."

"Ah. How kind of you."

"It's okay, though. I've got like, the perfect plan! All you've gotta do is hang out with them some more, rizz them up real good Rin-Style and BOOM! Date time!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rin allows a small sigh to escape his lips. "First of all: ‘ rizz them up real good Rin-Style ’ is not something I ever want to hear again. Second of all: I'd appreciate it if I wasn’t involved in any of your schemes, thanks."

"What's wrong with Operation Rin the Rizzler?" Pony asks. As the duo pass the second floor, she dutifully ignores the unimpressed look her friend glares into the back of her skull.

"The name , first off. It sounds like something Tsubaraba or Tokage would come up with."

"And that's a bad thing?"

Coming up on the third floor, Rin can't help but frown at the blonde, said girl coming to a sudden halt at the edge of the hallway. With her back still towards the other, Rin reasons, "Considering one of them once turned in an essay titled ‘ Reasons Why the Edo Period was Sus as Hell’ , yes, I'd say it’s pretty bad."

With Pony's dorm just to the left, Rin walks past his frozen classmate to continue up towards his own room. He gets as far as placing his foot down on the first step before—

It slaps him in the face like a gust of wind.

His head swivels back around to meet Pony's gaze, the blonde's blue eyes blown just as wide as his own. Both students gape at each other, both suddenly hit with the exact same realization.

What the hell are they going to tell their classmates tomorrow?

Chapter Text

Tap, tap, tap…

A quiet groan escapes you, muffled by the mattress you currently have your head buried in.

Tap, tap, tap…

Even within the depths of your subconscious, you have enough sense to recognize the faint twinge of annoyance that bolts through your mind. You shuffle deeper under the covers in hopes of escaping the irritating sound. Maybe if you ignore it long enough, the noise will go away.

Tap, tap, tap…

Or not. Whatever.

One of your eyebrows gives a twitch, peeved, but you refuse to open your eyes. You curse internally when you start to feel your senses returning, rousing you further from your deep sleep.

“Damnit, Niko,”   you grumble groggily. That little shit of a younger brother should know better by now not to disturb your sleep. It never ends well for him. You just hope he's ready because the second you get your hands around that scrawny little throat of his, you're gonna—!

BANG! 

BANG! 

BANG!

The thunderous sound has you standing at attention— Or at least trying to. You're still tired and not yet fully awake, and sleep has your limbs slow and uncoordinated. Neither of those things turns out to be a good thing. One second you're trying to sit up in bed and the next you're— Shit —!

You fall out of bed.

You wheeze as your side collides against the hardwood floor with a loud THUD , one of your legs miraculously somehow remaining up on the mattress while one of your arms ends up crushed beneath you. The soft fabric of your comforter spills onto the floor beside you as you a pained croak escapes past your lips. Blinking, eyes now wide open, you quickly glance at your surroundings.

Hannah Montana stares right back you, her eyes cold and dead despite the cheery grin she’s sporting. The notebook lays haphazardly on the floor along with your schoolbag and other notebooks. The sight of your "gift" leaves you reeling on the floor as everything comes rushing back to you.

Transfering to U.A. Academy.

Sparring with Rin and Pony.

Studying together in the infirmary.

First day of schoo... Wait a minute .

Oh SHIT—!

Half a second later and you're scrambling up from your precarious position along the floor, the pain from before long forgotten as you rush for the door.

And who else would be waiting outside your dorm than Aizawa himself, the Pro looking none too pleased with your late arrival.

Holy crap you were so fucked.

"S-SENSEI!" You say too loudly, cringing when the word seems to echo along the empty hallway. Even as you offer the man a shaky smile, you can't help but want to cry instead. It's taking everything you’ve got to bite down your nerves and not just beg for forgiveness right then and there. "I can— I can explain, I swear!"

That signature bored look doesn't stir from Aizawa's face. "Not much to explain. I have eyes."

Oh yeah, most absolutely fucked indeed. Goodbye world.

"I'll let it slide this time but don't let it happen again. Those are meant to be used during training, they're not makeshift pajamas."

You stare blankly at the man in front of you. "What?"

All you get in return is a sigh, and you immediately snap your mouth shut. It doesn't take a genius to see that your instructor’s patience is already wearing thin. Which is a real shame because, c'mon, you've only been talking to him for like 10 seconds! A moment passes before Aizawa's words sink in and you lower your head to take a look at yourself.

You're greeted with the red, white and blue of your school tracksuit.

The sight has you gaping slightly in surprise. You must have been too tired to take it off last night, the fabric now marred with countless wrinkles gained from fruitful hours spent in bed. "So... I'm not late for school?"

"It's six in the morning," Aizawa deapans.

A puff of relief escapes you, the corners of your mouth twitching up into a smile. "Oh thank God! For a second there I was really scared you were here to... Wait, what? Then why the hell would you wake me up so early? School doesn't start until eight!"

It probably wasn't the smartest idea, snapping at your homeroom teacher like so (especially someone like Aizawa who was apparently notorious for expelling students just for being late to class), but you didn't have it in you to care at the moment. You were too annoyed. Here you were, missing out what could have been another blissful hour in bed because of... What? What the hell could this man want from you so early in the morning?

"Principle Nezu wants you in his office in 10 minutes," Aizawa says, answering your unspoken question with a blank look.

"Oh." The message has you reeling for a split second, but soon you narrow your eyes at your teacher, an inkling of dread sprouting up inside you. "Why? Am I... Am I getting expelled or something? Already?"

Aizawa's eyes narrow right back at you. "Have you done anything worth expelling you over?" His eyes narrow even further as he adds, " Already? ”

You glance down at your outfit with wide eyes.

Another sigh. "Wearing your tracksuit to bed is not an expulsion-worthy offense, calm down."

"Um, right," you say, praying that the flush on your cheeks wasn't as visible as it felt, "I knew that."

Aizawa only shakes his head at you, looking well beyond done with your antics. Then, without another word, he pulls a white package out from behind him ( where the hell did he stash that, up his ass? ). He motions for you to take it. "Your school uniform," he explains as you take the package from his grasp. "Put it on before you go meet Nezu, and take your schoolbag too. He'll be keeping you in his office until the start of homeroom."

Nodding, you stare down at the package in your hands before lifting your gaze up to meet your instructor's. You raise an eyebrow at the man, questioning, "So you don't know why he wants to see me?"

"Even if I knew, I probably wouldn't tell you."

"What? Why not?"

"The suspense."

"...You're kind of a cruel guy, Aizawa Sensei."

"I’ve been called worse." 

And with that, your gloomy teacher spins around and takes his exit, leaving you standing under your doorway and gaping after his retreating figure. It's only when he reaches the stairs that he turns back, stating rather bluntly, "Get dressed and get going. Nezu may be the principal but he's not above giving students referrals for showing up late to his office. Don't let his fuzzy face fool you. Good luck."

Continuing down the steps, Aizawa mutters to himself, "You're going to need it."

Soon after the Pro's abrupt exit, you recede back into your dorm room, nearling tripping over that cursed Hannah Montana notebook as you rush to get yourself dressed and presentable. He may actually be a rodent, but Nezu was still your principal. You were determined to prove that his time and effort spent on you would not be wasted.

You will say, though: You cleaned up pretty nice in the school uniform. Who knew something as simple as a red tie would do you so many favors?

After only a minute or two spent admiring your reflection, you haphazardly shove your school supplies into your bag and rush downstairs. You're out the front door in record time, shivering as the morning chill bites at your skin and creeps along your bones.

One of the perks of your principal personally giving you a tour of your new school was that the location of his office was permanently ingrained into your brain. This left little room for getting lost (again), and you soon find yourself outside his office before you know it.

Nezu greets you at the door, punctual and polite as always, and invites you inside his surprisingly spacious office. Before you have the chance to ask him about the reason behind your visit, though, your principal apparently has other plans. You're encouraged to find a seat along the sitting area in the middle of the room, helping yourself to some tea and a plate of fancy-looking finger sandwiches. Meanwhile Nezu's small figure leaves to rummage within the drawers of his (comically) large desk.

"You wouldn't happen to be a fan of Shogi, would you?" The rodent asks politely as he continues to dig around for... Whatever it was he was looking for, his fuzzy body hidden from view.

Pleasantly surprised, you quickly pause where you're gorging yourself on sandwiches. Who serves food that good in such small portions? Damn maniacs. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were into anime, Principle Nezu."

"...I suppose that's a no to my question."

A minute later and your principal pops his head up from behind the top of his desk, his round, snow white snout up in the air as he says, "Perhaps chess, then?"

"Um... M-Maybe something more simple?" You offer shakily. Though the notion that your principle apparently plans to challenge you to a board game was confusing, that confusion is quickly overridden by the sight of the rodent's little, pink nose. It twitches and your fingertips tingle with the undeniable urge to touch it .

If you pressed it, what would happen? Tactical nukes? You had to know.

…For science reasons, obviously.

With a satisfied hum, Nezu finally emerges from behind his desk, shutting his drawer closed with a thunk as his short self comes around towards the sitting area. The cardboard box in his paws looks enormous in his small grip, though Nezu doesn't seem to mind or even notice. His smile ever present, he asks, "How do you feel about checkers?"

You nod halfheartedly, more focused on not damaging the expensive-looking tea set on the table before you as you try to pour yourself a cup. "Sure, I could go for a round."

Poor, unsuspecting you, too distracted to notice the glint in your principal's beady eyes.

You glare down at the slab of cardboard before you. The power of your gaze was something to behold. Luckily you didn't have any sort of laservision quirk, because otherwise the dual-colored board sitting in front of you would have been up in flames a long time ago.

A quiet sipping sound causes you to twitch in annoyance. You send a brief but sharp look towards the rodent sitting in the chair across you.

Nezu only smiles from behind the tip of his fine china. "Take your time, Young King. There's no need to rush."

You give your own grin at that, but it's all gritted teeth and tense jaw. " Thanks . But maybe we should just call it quits for now? I mean, we both know you're about to win anyways... Again..."

"Admitting defeat so early is unbecoming of a hero in training," your superior laments with a shake of his head, teacup sitting pretty within the grasp of his fuzzy little paw. "I'd suggest doing away with that kind of mentality. I can guarantee that sort of cowardice won't get you too far this school year."

If your rodent of a principle notices how the armrests of your chair creak under your grip at the word " cowardice ", he makes no comment on it.

What had once started out as a friendly game soon turned into a tense battle of willpower. Apparently Nezu had a rather mean winning streak when it came to playing against others, and he wasn't afraid to demonstrate the power of his superior intellect. He didn't bother going easy on you, practically eviscerating you all throughout the first round of checkers with such efficiency and speed that you could do no more than gawp like a fish as he claimed his victory. You were ready to call it quits and give him the win, too…

If only he hadn’t opened his mouth.

"Oh my... That certainly ended much sooner than I thought it would."

Usually you found Nezu's ever-present, subtle smile cute and assuring, but in that moment it only served to simultaneously push just about every button you had— And somehow even ones you didn’t know about until then. 

You weren’t about to take such a blatant slap to the face, especially not from some toddler-sized, overgrown rat. So you challenged him to another round.

One hour later and here you were:

Playing checkers against a rodent and getting your ass kicked for the fifth time that morning.

"Damn it," you curse as Nezu moves to take yet another one of your pieces.

"Language," your principal reprimands lightly. He continues to leisurely sip at his tea, his eyes closed as you mutter a 'sorry' . He’s either oblivious or pointedly ignoring the dirty look you shoot his way. (You had a feeling it was the latter.)

Slumping in your chair with a huff, you glare petulantly down at the coffee table at your feet. The gameboard— made of the cheap cardboard you were used to and not some fancypants wood or glass like you would have guessed— was consumed in darkness. Not in an emo way (though your losing streak certainly left you feeling Dead! ), but rather Nezu's black checker pieces were nearing a complete takeover of the board. Your red pieces were dangerously low in numbers, only three left in total.

You frown at where your opponent holds your pieces captive on his side of the table. Seeing those plastic, red tokens stacked upon each other in neat piles, you can't help the pang of sadness that stings your heart at the sight of your fallen soldiers.

God bless their brave souls.

With a chuckle, Nezu sets his tea down on the coffee table with a quiet clatter. "If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to advise you on your next move."

"So I'm not allowed to forfeit the game but I can take hints from the enemy?" With a snort, you reach over and snatch up yet another finger sandwich from the stack on the plate. You start tearing into the thing rather grumpily. "Right, sure."

"Enemy? Whatever do you mean, Young King? This is just a simple game of checkers."

Your eyes slant at the little smile your principal gifts you. That bastard... This stopped being a game of checkers a long time ago!

Now it's war .

But you had a feeling saying something like that wouldn't exactly fly too well, so instead you just hang your head in defeat. With a groan, you say, "Please tell me you didn't call me over here so early in the morning just to kick my ass."

"Language." Despite reprimanding you once again, Nezu looks as cheery as ever. "I apologize for disturbing your sleep, especially after the day you had yesterday, but I can assure you that your presence here is necessary."

At your expectant look, the principle only shakes his head. "All will be revealed in due time, I promise. As it is now, there's just one more person we're waiting on."

Leave it to Nezu to keep you in the dark. Not that you expected any different. The last hour spent with him was all the exposure you needed, thanks.

With a sigh, you lean back in your chair and gaze out a nearby window. Turns out Nezu had a pretty great view of the school's front gates, and throughout your morning spent in his office, you would occasionally glance outside to see swarms upon swarms of students flooding through the gates. It started out as a small trickle at first, just a few early birds living up to their name. But eventually there were so many bodies you could barely make out an inch of the concrete below. The crowd was lively too, the noises from outside only registering as a muffled commotion through the thick panes of glass in Nezu's office.

Guess your earlier hypothesis about U.A. sporting a monstrous student body was on point.

Chewing the remains of your sandwich, you eye a nearby clock on the wall. "Well whoever we're waiting for, I hope they get here soon. I don't want to be late to class on my first day."

"Yes, I can imagine Aizawa wouldn't be too pleased with that," Nezu hums thoughtfully. "Especially considering you also have school’s Entrance Ceremony to attend straight after."

"Yeah..." You've heard about U.A.'s Entrance Ceremony in passing. It was meant to serve as a way to welcome not just incoming first years but returning second and third years as well. Though for you, it would be your very first Entrance Ceremony. You'd be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to it.

You've read some pretty cool things about it on U.A.'s official website. Fireworks and a free snack bar? Sign you the hell up!

"But hey, Aizawa Sensei already knows I’m with you this morning so he won’t be too mad. I’m already excused.

"Well now," your principle starts with a chuckle, and you don't like how his beady eyes glint as he continues cheerfully, "I never said anything about excusing you."

What the fuck.

You snatch yet another sandwhich off the table in the hopes that stuffing your face with food will help distract you from your sudden murderous urges.

Then, at that moment, a soft knocking sound emits from somewhere behind you. It seems that someone is right outside Nezu's office and judging by the way the rodent perks up at the sound, it must be the mysterious third party you’ve both been waiting for.

"Come in!" Your principle chirps, and you hear the door creak open before someone quietly steps into the room.

You don't turn in your seat to face the stranger, instead shoving the rest of your sandwich into your maw and dusting off the crumbs that fall into your lap. You weren't sure who this other person was but if they were important enough for Nezu to waste time decimating you at checkers just to await their arrival, they must be important— at least to Nezu himself. You might as well try and make a good impression.

Plus, you were sure to meet plenty of new faces later once school officially started. This could serve as good practice.

"Young Shinsou, how how nice to see you again." Setting his teacup down on the coffee table, Nezu gestures towards the empty chair beside you with a pleasant smile. "Please, come take a seat beside Young King here and we can begin."

"Alright," a deep voice rumbles from behind you. This new mystery person makes their way around and you finally catch a glimpse of purple emerging from the corner of your eye. It's only when the seat beside you is taken that you turn to get a better look.

Pale skin and tired eyes are framed by a wild head of purple hair, the strands blown out and standing on end like the textbook definition of the term “ bed head ”. The color is truly eye-catching, those lilac locks popping out amongst the mundane shades of Nezu’s office. Glancing lower you spot the other's red tie and grey blazer combo. You immediately recognize them as a fellow student, and the familiar pattern of teal stripes along their sleeves has you glancing down at your own.

The Hero Course? Huh...

Maybe… You shift your attention back up, only to freeze in place once you meet Purple Guy’s dead stare head-on. As your wide eyes gaze into his half-lidded ones, you can't help but wonder if the dark rings under his eyes are the result of sleepless nights or just mascara.

Honestly, what was up with all these insomniatic men here in Japan? This guy was the third one so far!

As your momentary surprise begins to wear off, you recognize the opportunity presented to you and lightly clear your throat, nervous. Meeting new people was always nerve wracking. With a slight bow of the head, you offer what you hope was a friendly smile and say, "Hi. I'm [____] King, it's nice to meet you."

Purple Guy only continues to stare. "Is [____] your last name?"

You physically have to stop yourself from slamming your head down onto the coffee table.

The smile on your face quickly grows strained as your face grows a few degrees warmer. "Crap— Right! I totally forgot about that, sorry! I’m King [____] then, ahaha...!" You trail off, eyeing the window on the opposite wall.

…Exactly how high up was Nezu’s office?

"It's fine," the other student thankfully assures. Though his expression doesn't change, you can hear the sincerity in the boy’s tone as he greets you in the same manner. "My name's Shinsou Hitoshi, it's nice to meet you too. I've heard about you."

You nod as your blush begins to cool down. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I've heard about you too. You're the other new student, right? The one for 2-B?" 

You hadn't been told much, but from what your mother and Cousin Lani had briefly explained, there was a pretty good chance the guy beside you was the whole reason for your transfer to U.A. in the first place.

"Yeah," said boy affirms, "that's me."

Both of your attention is brought back to Nezu, the rodent clapping his paws together with a soft sound. He seems pleased as he says, "I'm glad you two are already familiar with each other. It certainly saves us the time of an introduction. If you don't mind, however, I believe it's time I explain the reason I've gathered you both here this morning. And Shinsou, please feel free to help yourself to some tea and sandwhi... Oh my."

Nezu trails off, falling into stunned silence as he stares down at the plate on the coffee table. You follow his gaze to see—

The plate is empty.

"...I must say, Yong King, you have quite the appetite," Nezu comments.

You’ve never wanted an invisibility quirk more badly.

Your eyes meet those of the boy beside you, but only for a second before you're quickly averting your gaze, a guilty flush warming your face. "Uhh... Sorry," you mumble, "I didn't have breakfast this morning..."

But Shinsou only shakes his head, looking none too bothered by the lack of finger sandwiches. "Don’t worry about it. I’m not that hungry anyways. Let’s just get this thing started before we miss class." Casting a glance down at the board of checkers set between you and the principal, the boy adds, "But maybe you guys should finish your game first…"

"Oh, no need," Nezu dismisses. Then, without tearing his gaze away from the boy beside you, the rodent leans over to pick up one of his pieces and proceeds to COMPLETELY DEMOLISH YOU IN ONE MOVE WHAT THE FUCK?!

You can only gape in shock, completely helpless as your principal somehow manages to take all three of your pieces in one fell swoop. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

"Language, Young King."

"You could have done that the whole time?! " You gripe through grit teeth, glaring at the rodent. Though it seems to have no effect on him as he proceeds to stash away the game board and pieces back into their box.

"I could have, yes, but then our game would have ended prematurely. And really, where's the fun in that?" Nezu hums and places the box on the far end of the table. "Besides, I did offer to give you advice, didn’t I? It’s a shame that you turned my offer down."

…It was final. You were never playing any game against this rat ever again.

"Sorry to interrupt," Shinsou drawls (sounding not sorry in the slightest), "but homeroom is going to begin soon. I’d rather not have my start in the Hero Course be a late one."

Though he’s (probably) unaware that he's currently the only thing stopping you from strangling the principal right then and there, the boy's interruption is nonetheless a blessing. With a nod of understanding, Nezu's attention shifts between his two students sat across him. "Of course, my apologies. This will only take a minute then."

The rodent sits back in his chair, and you're taken off-guard by the palpable shift in the air. Even as his smile remains as pleasant as ever, you sense the weight of his next words without fail.

Judging by the way Shinsou subtly tenses beside you, he must sense it too.

"As you may already be aware, it's not often that U.A. decides to make additions to their classes halfway through their school journey— And to the Hero Course no less, our most difficult of the three. In fact, the two of you are the very first of your kind... And quite possibly the last." Nezu's beady eyes bear into the two of you for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to settle in. "Please note that this arrangement is not permanent. Either one of you has the potential to be resigning from your new position should we find that you aren't living up to the standards we’ve set for you."

Nezu looks at Shinsou. The boy sits up straighter under the principal's gaze. "You, Young Shinsou, have proven your potential and for that I must congratulate you. Your efforts have not gone to waste. However, as much time you spent with Aizawa and the few training sessions you participated in, it still remains a fact that you spent the majority of your first year in the General Course. I'm afraid your classmates are ahead of you in terms of training.

"As for you, Young King," Nezu continues as his attention then shifts over to you, "you're really only here because the school needed a way to even out the number of students in the Hero Course. Though you were our top candidate, please keep in mind that we can and will replace you should the moment call for it..."

A moment of thick silence follows those words. Your principal seems to be finished with his little speech, yet you can't help but squint at the face he's making. His features are pinched, almost like he has to—

"A- CHU !"

It takes everything in you not to giggle at the squeaky sound. Even more so when you glance over to see a shocked Shinsou, the boy's lidded eyes now blown wide.

Nezu sniffles, his pink nose twitching. "Excuse me."

"Bless you," you and the other student say in unison. You both spare the other a quick glance.

"Yes, thank you." With his composure regained, Nezu folds his paws in his lap, his smile in place. The atmosphere has luckily lost its sharp edge. You breathe out a small sigh of relief as your principal continues, "Of course, I didn't call you two here just to scare you."

Liar , you grumble internally.

"I've actually prepared a special sort of arrangement for you both; something I believe will prove to be a huge help in the long run. You see, though your journeys here may be different, you're both here for the same goal and under the same pressure. Which is why I've decided to pair you together for the remainder of this school year."

Both you and Shinsou glance each other's way, confused. With furrowed brows, the boy beside you points out, "I thought we'd be in separate classes, though."

Nezu nods affirmingly. "And you are. I just thought that since your situation was so unique, it'd be nice for you two to have someone in your corner to count on— namely each other. You're in the same boat, afterall. Please consider yourselves Mandatory Friends as of now."

"...Mandatory Friends."

"Yes."

Shinsou only stares, his purple eyes glued to the principal in an unamused look. "That's not the actual name, is it?"

"I... I kinda like it?" You mutter as you stroke your chin thoughtfully. Shinsou turns to you, then, and you turn too just to see his frown deepening in obvious disapproval.

"You're joking."

"Well, I mean... It could be worse. He could have called us Standard Pals.  Or Required Acquaintances. Or Chummy Initiates. Or Chopping Block Buddies. Or—"

Shinsou holds a hand up to stop you, his eyes closed as he slumps in his chair ever so slightly. The sigh he lets out is distinctly disappointed as he mutters, "I got it. Thanks."

Welp.

So much for first impressions.

"The name aside," Nezu pipes up, "being Mandatory Friends carries a certain amount of responsibility on both your ends. Each of you is to ensure that the other isn't falling too far behind on their studies or training. This may mean spending some one-on-one time to spar— I'm sure Young King here wouldn't mind helping you improve your fighting ability, Young Shinsou— or studying together for upcoming tests."

You perk up at the mention of studying. As if in class, you raise your hand up slightly to catch your principal's attention. "Actually, I've already got a study group thing going..? Me and two of my friends, anyways." Turning to the boy beside you, you try for an encouraging smile. "I’m sure the others won’t mind if you join. Oh, but only if you want to. No pressure."

"Wonderful! A study group of four, then," Nezu says with finality. You turn to level the rodent with a scowl, annoyed.

"Don't make it sound like he has to! I said no pressure for a reason!"

"Unfortunately he does have to. You’re Mandatory Friends, not Optional Friends."

"...Damn it."

"Language."

Shinsou sighs, sounding tired already, and for a brief moment the image of Aizawa flashed through your mind. You quickly shake the idea away with a shudder.

"Glad to be part of the study group," the boy says. Though he seems the exact opposite of excited, Shinsou still offers his hand out to you, and the dark rings beneath his eyes only make those purple irises pop as he meets your gaze. "I guess this makes us... Friends."

With a lopsided grin, you reach out and shake the other's hand firmly. "Mandatory Friends."

"Do not call us that in public."

"I can’t promise you anything."

Clapping his paws together joyfully, Nezu's smile widens as he regards the two students across from him with distinct satisfaction. "Excellent! I'm glad to see that you both are getting along well so far. It will certainly make your job as Class Ambassadors much easier."

Never before has he seen two heads turn so fast, and in such perfect sync. The sight of your equally befuddled expressions is nearly enough to make him laugh.

"What," you both ask, state , but Nezu merely feigns ignorance.

"Oh my, would you look at that? Class is nearly about to begin! You two better get going if you don't want to be late. Come now, up you go." The small rodent encourages, hopping out of his seat when his students make no move of leaving. They obviously didn’t expect him to take such extensive action, startled as Nezu shoos them up and away from their seats. Young Shinsou nearly trips over his own feet (though he tries to play it off with nonchalance), and the way you stub your toe against the coffee table has you cursing in your native tongue.

Nezu allows the profanity to slide this time.

It’s only once he's herding you though his office door that you speak up, your eyes pleading as you shout, "Wait! Tell me where you got those finger sandwi—!"

"Have a good first day of school, don't go getting into trouble now! Goodbye!" And with that, Nezu finally slams gracefully shuts the door in his students' faces.

Dusting his paws off, the shrew tots back to his lounge area while humming a tune to himself. Grabbing the checkers box off the coffee table as well as his tea, Nezu makes his way over to his desk. Moments later, once he's finished putting the board game back in its place, he sits back in his office chair and sips his tea in silence.

He could have just told you where those finger sandwiches came from... But that wouldn't be very fun, would it? 

He'll tell you once you've bested him in checkers— Or any game, for that matter. He was sure you were resolute in your mission to never play against him in anything ever again (you were a bit of a sore loser that way, it seems), but Nezu was aware of just how persuasive he could be. He'd get you to play him again the next time you visited his office.

And he had a feeling you would be visiting his office quite often.

"What an interesting year this is sure to be," the shrew chuckles to himself. He sips his tea, his obsidian eyes glittering at the very idea.

The walk to your classroom was... Well, maybe not awkward . Definitely silent, though.

Turns out that class 2-A and 2-B were in the same hall. Which made sense in hindsight, but the revelation still left you rather surprised. Not because the idea of the two rooms being near one another was a shock, but because the fact meant you and Shinsou would end up walking in the same direction for a good minute or so.

You know Nezu had officially dubbed you both Mandatory Friends or whatever, but that still didn't change the fact that you just met the guy 10 minutes ago. You don't even know the boy’s favorite color!

(You had a sneaking suspicion it was probably purple. Let’s be real.)

You weren't mentally prepared to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with an actual stranger. What were you supposed to do, make small talk? You were crap at small talk!

Fortunately(?), Shinsou didn't seem too keen on the whole small talk thing either. He kept to himself the entirety of your shared journey, leaving you to silently admire his purple hair. Even being such a soft shade, it was so vibrant. And the way he carried himself— Tall, yet with a slight slump in his posture, like he wasn’t prone to sitting straight…

You had dubbed him Purple Guy before, solely for the hue of his hair. Though the longer you look at him, the more you think that maybe he had more in common with a certain fictional skrunkly animatronic-themed pizza diner founder child murderer after all.

…Actually no, the last part of that comparison sounded really bad. Nevermind.

(Also William Afton was a brunette, at least according to all that thirsty fanart on Instagram. And he was British.)

Thankfully, the two of you arrived at your class hall before the walk became too long. You discreetly exhale in relief. The hall is largely deserted, most students no doubt already in their own classes.

Save for Vlad King, of course.

The large man stands outside what you can only assume is his own classroom. Even from a distance, you can see the way he relaxes once he spots you and Shinsou heading his way. You got the feeling he'd been waiting for you two for a while now.

"Shinsou. King," he greets as the two of you come to a stop before him. "I'm glad you’re not late. Homeroom is about to start. I hope you're ready for your first day of class."

"...I’m a little nervous, to be honest," Shinsou surprisingly confesses. His words seem to be true, if the way he rubs at the nape of his neck is any indication. Though as he meets his instructor's ruby gaze, you swear you see the edge of his mouth quirk up in the barest hint of a smile. "But I think I'll survive."

Vlad King chortles at that and pats the boy's shoulder. "Well let's hope your new classmates don't make things any harder for you."

You watch the exchange in silence, not wanting to interrupt the moment between the two, but something catches your eye. A flash of bright yellow has you glancing to the side. Immediately your eyes latch onto a boy— Another student, if the familiar uniform is anything to go by. For whatever reason, he's attempting to be discreet as he passes by from behind, his knees bent in a crouch as he slowly shuffles past. His face is one of deep concentration, almost as if he’s trying his hardest to blend into the background.

Something that should be practically impossible for someone with hair that shocking. You're not even sure he made the cut as a blonde, what with locks that yellow.

If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he had a lemon for a head.

Sure enough, the teen's cover is soon blown, that bright hair of his immediately alerting Vlad King to his presence. With his usual scowl in place, the Pro calls out a gruff, "Kaminari."

Unleashing a squeak that sounded embarrassing even to your ears, the boy goes stiff at the sound of the man's voice. His head whips around to face the Pro, his features desperate as he screams, "I'm not late! I forgot that our classrooms changed this year, okay, it's not my fault! Don't give me detention!"

"I don't need an explanation, just stop sneaking around and get to class."

"Yessir!" Lemon Head salutes the man. As he turns to leave, he eyes Shinsou and grins, popping a finger gun at the other boy. "Shinsou, my man! Good to see you! As good looking as ever I see!"

When he only receives a bored look in return, Lemon Head's eyes then slide over to you. Pausing in surprise, he observes you silently for a second, curious. Eventually his face morphs into one of appreciation. Smirking to himself as his eyes rake over you slowly, the boy whistles. "Not bad... A solid seven."

"Did you do that with Sharpie?" You ask the boy, blatantly ignoring his comment in favor of staring at the little black lightning bolt etched onto one of his bangs.

A loud gasp escaped the other teen's gaping mouth. "Hey! This is all natural!"

" Kaminari ," Vlad King grumbles, his scarlet eyes pinning the boy down under scrutiny.

Not needing to be told twice, the walking lemon swiftly turns tail and speedwalks down the hall over to another door just a few yards away. The sound of commotion escapes into the empty hall as he slides the door open to walk on through. Just before he disappears past the threshold, though, he shoots you a pout.

The door shuts and, with a grunt, Vlad King turns his attention back to you and Shinsou. "Right, back to business. Shinsou, you'll wait out here while I get the class settled down. Then once I call you over, you'll walk in and introduce yourself, alright?" Turning to you now, Vlad motions over to the door down the hall. "King, you'll do the same for your own class. Aizawa should let you in."

Surprised, you eyeball the door in question. The title ‘ 2-A ’ hangs proudly above the door in bold letters. "Wait, you mean the door Lemon Head just went through? That's my classroom?"

Beside you, Shinsou huffs out an amused breath. "Lemon Head? Oh, he'll love that."

"Kaminari is one of your new classmates," Vlad informs. "You'll have time to properly introduce yourself to him later today, so don’t sweat it. Now get going. Class is about to start."

The Pro leaves for his class, commotion once again flooding the silence of the empty hall before he disappears inside the room. You step towards your own classroom, leaving Shinsou to stand in front of his door as you come to stand before your own. Even from behind the slate of plastic and metal, you can still make out the sound of muffled conversation. Multiple voices, some loud and others much softer, merged together to create a cacophony of lively, excited chatter.

You can also make out some loud, angry yelling (though the noise seems to belong to one voice in particular).

The prospect of your impending class introduction weighs upon you like a set of dumbells. Talking in front of a room of multiple strangers was never easy, especially when those strangers had the power to make or break your entire school year. Wringing out your sweaty hands, you glance down the hall to see if your Mandatory Friend is holding up any better. At first glance the boy doesn't seem offput in the slightest, but...

Well, the rapid tapping of his foot was a bit of a giveaway. That and also the way he was staring at his class door, almost as if he was trying to intimidate the thing into staying closed forever.

"Hey."

Startled, Shinsou's head shoots up. He glances around aimlessly for a moment before those purple eyes meet your own. You're obviously as nervous as he is (maybe even more so), but the smile you shoot him is genuine.

"Good luck."

"...You too."

"Sorry to burst your bubble but luck won’t save you here."

A deep voice speaks up from your other side, and you almost jump free from your own skin as you whip your head towards the interruption. Aizawa sends Shinsou a nod before staring down at you, taking in your wide eyes and the tightly-clenched fists resting at your sides. One of his brows perks up just barely. "Nervous?"

You try not to swallow too loudly. "A little...?"

"Good." The man smirks. "They can smell fear."

And just like that, your Sensei slides 2-A's door open without warning, abandoning you for the second time that morning and walking up to a small podium near the front of the class. A hush follows his entrance, the chatter from before falling away as Aizawa turns to face his class. You keep your eyes glued to his figure, even if you now have a decent view of the front of the class. Namely the first two rows of desks and the students behind them.

Said students seemingly have a good view of you too, if the multiple stares that prickle your skin are any indication.

Standing behind the podium, Aizawa addresses his students with the same enthusiasm he used when he spoke to you. Which was none.

(It was nice to know he didn't pick favorites at least.)

"We have a new face joining us this year. You probably already knew that… Unless you're one of the people who didn't read the very important and detailed email I sent out." A moment of tense silence quickly follows the statement, your instructor glaring out at the sea of students before him.

One student squawks out, "Wh-Why are you looking at me?! Who even reads their emails these days, am I right?"

The silence following that statement is answer enough, it seems.

“...Guys?”

"Apparently everyone but you, dude."

"Checking your emails should be a critical part of your routine!" Another voice proclaims. "It's the easiest way to keep in touch with your peers and be up-to-date with any important information! Like the news of our new transfer student, for example!"

"Fuck off with the email bullshit, Four-Eyes. Let the old man finish so I can get to blowing shit up already."

"Don't curse in class, Bakugou!"

"Only when you stop being a fucking dork!"

"Nonsense! Dork is an inaccurate term, the word I believe you're looking for is—!"

Aizawa clears his throat. The sound isn't particularly loud, in fact you can barely hear it over the yelling, but an air of quiet still sweeps across the room all the same. Seems the term " fuck around and find out " didn't apply to your Sensei, because surely the only thing anyone would find was death.

(Or at the very least expulsion.)

"Emails aside," your instructor continues, "this new classmate of yours will be living and training alongside you, so I suggest you guys get used to them soon. Maybe not too comfortable, though, since their stay isn't exactly permanent." A few murmurs arise at that, though they're silenced once more. "That being said, please do me a personal favor and don’t involve them in any of your schemes. If this year is anything like the last, I will be visiting the nearby pharmacy for lots of migraine medication. Which is not good news for me or my insurance.”

"You should make the switch to Geiko, Aizawa Sensei!" A peppy voice offers. "I heard they can save you 15% or more on—"

"That's only in America, Ashido."

"Whaaaat? But then why is the little lizard guy British?"

Another voice pipes up, "Who knows? It's not like he's real, anyways."

"...He’s not?"

You don't get much time to ponder the genuine shock in that voice before Aizawa's eyes are boring into yours, and you snap at attention when the Pro motions you over.

Towards the front of the class.

...You were not ready.

But standing frozen in the doorway where people could see you would be WAY more embarrassing than just introducing yourself to a group of strangers. And as you glance to the side, you no longer see Shinsou out in the hall, the boy no doubt already in his own class. So, with a deep breath and a short, internal prayer, you step on through the threshold and into your new classroom.

Your steps are careful and measured, and thankfully you don't go tripping over your own feet (score!) before you find yourself standing beside Aizawa's podium and facing the rest of the class. As you scan the rows of students, your eyes flickering from one face to another, you try to smile as you make accidental eye contact with a few of them. The room is drowning in silence, nobody uttering a word as you all come to a standstill. You seem to have everyone's full attention.

Especially one person in particular.

"Hey! I know you!" A voice pipes up loudly, and you (along with a good amount of the class) look to find a certain blonde causing a commotion, their chair screeching along the floor as they suddenly jolt to their feet.

Actually, no, scratch that. Not a blonde.

"Lemon Head?"

“...”

A moment of silence... Then—

The class erupts. Some people are more subtle in their amusement, either snickering quietly to themselves or trying to dampen the grins that no doubt want to bloom across their faces, while others outright cackle at their classmate— said boy redder than a pepper as he gapes at you in pure disbelief.

"Lemon Head? What the hell is a Lemon Head?" He asks, clueless. The question is probably meant for himself, but that doesn't stop one of his classmates in the row behind him (tall with a head of black hair) from answering.

"Dude—!" He starts, only to burst into wheezing shortly after. "Who else is that gonna be other than you?!"

"What, me? No way! My head's normal shaped!"

Second row nearest the window, another boy (this one an actual, ashy blonde) spouts from behind loud laughter, "You dumbass! It's about color, not shape!"

"...What's the color of my head got to do with anything?"

"Oh my God—"

" Ahem ."

The noise in the air falls, and judging by the way goosebumps prickle up along your arms, it seems so does the temperature. Nothing but dead silence fills the room, and you risk a glance towards the man standing behind the class podium.

Only to swiftly avert your gaze from the dark aura engulfing him.

"If you're all done interrupting—" A dark look is shot at Lemon Head, said boy dropping back into his chair like a brick as he cowers under his instructor's gaze. The man then turns to you. "Introduce yourself."

It’s not a suggestion.

Your eyes sweep over to Aizawa, the man meeting your gaze in a stare that left little room for argument. You swallow lightly. Quelling your nerves with another deep breath, you return your attention towards the sea of strangers in front of you.

"Hi," you start lamely, raising your hand in a small wave and trying for a friendly smile. "I'm King [____], but you can just call me [____] if you want. I'm a new transfer student from America, and I'm looking forward to being part of the class. Please take care of me."

As you finish with a polite bow, you glance over at Aizawa for approval. But the Pro isn't looking at you anymore. No, his gaze is fixed on the rest of his students, his dark eyes slanted and narrow as he observes his class for a moment. Then, in that low tone that gave you flashbacks from yesterday in the infirmary, he says, "I'm going to open the floor up to King in a second. I’ve known you all long enough to know that a good deal of you are too nosy for your own good. I don't want anybody distracted during class today, so I'll allow you guys to ask your new classmate a few questions."

The next words are said with strong finality. "Keep the questions appropriate . You have 30 seconds."

Aizawa makes a dismissive motion with his hand and then—

Fourth row, on the far left. A boy with glasses and a square jaw stands from his seat, his hand held up in a chopping motion. "Tenya Iida, a pleasure to meet you! I read in Aizawa Sensei's email that you've transferred from POWERS Academy, the top Hero School in America! I was wondering if you could detail your experience within—!"

"IS THE GEIKO REAL OR NOT?!” A girl two rows ahead interrupts, sounding desperate as she waves a pink hand around.

"Ashido! It's rude to interrupt others! Wait your turn!"

"This is important, okay?! And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Mina!"

Third row, closest to the window. With chaotic green curls that left the phantom taste of broccoli on your tongue, a freckled boy raises his hand. He sounds shy but excited all the same as he asks, "What's your quirk? I-If you don't mind me asking, that is!"

"Shut your trap, Deku!" shouts that (actual) blonde from before, visibly annoyed as he glares at the boy seated behind him. "Nobody has time for your shitty questions! It doesn’t matter what this extra’s quirk is because it’s obviously no match for mine! Next time try asking something actually worth knowing, idiot!"

"There’s no need to be mean, Kacchan!"

"Stop calling me that, damn nerd!"

"Bro, we have the same teeth!" pipes a redhead from the third row. His grin is wide, showing off his pointy teeth as he points to them excitedly. Anger Issues on the far right only scoffs.

"That's not a question, Shitty Hair."

"C’mon, Bakubro, don't be like that."

"What's with you shitty extras calling me shitty names?! Quit that shit right now or I'll blow your shit to smithereens!"

A girl with moss green hair and wide eyes hums to herself, a large finger held up to her lips thoughfully. "You've been saying ‘shit’ an awful lot today, Bakugou. I though completing a year of school meant you vocabulary was supposed to be better."

"Shut up, Frog Face."

Towards the back of the classroom, from behind Broccoli Boy, you hear yet another voice speak up. You just barely manage to spot the top of a few round, purple objects peeking out from behind Broccoli Boy's messy hair as a lisping voice asks, "Tho... Am I correct to athume that you're... On the market— OW!"

"Could you hold out on being a creep for one day, Mineta?" A girl with long earlobes seethes with narrowed eyes. One of her earlobe is stretched out longer than the other, and you spot the end of it retracting back towards her, slithering through the air and away from where it had struck her classmate on the head. "We've been in class for less than five minutes. Seriously. It’s pathetic."

"...So Lemon Head is a compliment, right?"

Nearly the entire class turns to stare at their classmate, the mock-blonde eyeing you hopefully.

"Dude, did you use your quirk before coming to class? You seem stupider than normal."

"He's like that all the time, what do you mean?"

"No… He's definitely stupider."

"A reminder that 'stupider' is not an actual word! The correct term is 'less intelligent' !"

"Jeez guys, I’m sitting RIGHT HERE, what the hell!?"

With a long suffering sigh, Aizawa slumps at his podium to rub at his temples. The chatter falls away as the Pro grumbles out, "Congratulations. You've managed to waste 30 seconds of time asking questions but getting no actual answers. A promising start to your second year, I'm sure."

A few sheepish murmurs fill the air. You receive a few apologetic glances from your new classmates, though you barely notice, too stunned to do anything more than stare at the back wall in silence. Your mind is running a mile a minute. 

You weren't sure what you were expecting from your new classmates... You've heard a lot about U.A. and its strict curriculum, so maybe something more tame than your old school...

But no. If anything, these guys were just as chaotic.

Possibly even more so.

You're startled out of your stupor by the sound of your Sensei's voice. "King, go ahead and take your seat."

Slowly, you turn to face Aizawa. "Wha...?"

"Back row," he explains dully, motioning towards the back of the room with a slight tilt of his head. "The only empty seat in the class. Can't miss it."

Hesitant, you nod. Not wanting to be told twice and risk incurring your instructor's wrath, you make your way down the middle of the class, squeezing in between the rows of desks and trying your hardest not to bump into anyone as you make your way forward. It proves to be much easier said than done— Especially when one student in particular grabs ahold of the sleeve of your blazer and smirks up at you.

"Lemon Head is totally a compliment, huh? No need to be shy, I can tell you think I'm super hot— ACK! Jeez, Jirou, that hurts!"

Long Earlobes only rolls her eyes at the boy sat beside her. "Stop hitting on everything that walks, idiot. It's embarrassing to watch you get shot down all the time."

"What? Bullcrap, I do not!"

You turn to your right to find Long Earlobes ignoring her classmate entirely, her focus now on you instead. "Feel free to ignore him from now on," she insists, looking all too aware as she says, "He almost never has anything helpful to say. Trust me."

Your eyes flicker between the two, from the distraught boy on your left to the infuriated girl on your right. "I'll... Keep that in mind. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

You continue on your way, leaving the other two behind as you stroll on towards the back row. You try not to pay any mind to the stares that follow you as you go.

"What the hell, Jirou?! I was totally about to bag a hottie just now!"

"Yeahhhh, pretty sure the only thing you were about to bag was a slap to the face. Again."

“That was one time!”

At last you arrive at the final row of desks. Unlike the previous rows, this back row sports a total of five desks instead of four, all of them clustered together and leaving miniscule wiggle room in between. Coming to an awkward pause before two other students— One broad-shouldered with plump lips and the other looking like a half-assed Pokeball, his hair split red and white down the middle— You quickly scan the row for your seat.

"Over here," a voice calls out to you. 

Sweeping your gaze towards to the right, you find a girl waving you over. Compared to Mr. Pokeball sat beside her, this girl isn't as eccentric as far as appearances go. She was pretty ( gorgeous , if you were being completely honest), but besides that high ponytail of hers, her looks were rather tame compared to some of her classmates.

(You tried not to stare at the actual bird sitting in front of Mr. Pokeball.)

Walking over, you find your seat on the far end of the back row. Pretty Ponytail's desk is right beside yours, leaving you wedged between her and the window on your other side. As you wiggle yourself into the crook between your desk and the wall, you send a grateful look towards your new desk neighbor. "Thanks."

"Of course," the girl assures, and you try not to let your surprise show when she proceeds to pull your chair out for you like a gentleman. "I'm glad to help."

You plop down into your chair, bewildered as you observe the girl beside you. Despite her calm demeanor and soothing tone, you can clearly see the excitement glittering within her dark eyes, the edges of that excitement bleeding into her voice as well. You've just met this girl, yet she was smiling at you as if you've just made her entire day.

...Did she know your mom?

Shit. You sure hope not.

Realizing that the two of you are basically staring at each other, you clear your throat and hold your hand out towards the girl. "I'm King [____]. But you... Probably already knew that because I introduced myself earlier... My bad."

You don't get the chance to search for the nearest window to punt yourself out of before Pretty Ponytail latches onto your outstretched hand. She all but beams at you. You try not to let yourself be jostled too much as your classmate shakes your hand with vigor, the excitement in her voice is palpable as she says, "Momo Yaoyorozu, it's a pleasure to meet you! But please, call me Yaomomo."

"Hi, Yaomomo. It's nice to meet you too." You glance down to where the other is still shaking your hand. The sight has you chuckling lightly. "Did you have coffee or are you always this high-energy in the morning?"

"Oh!" With a faint blush dusting her cheeks, your classmate finally releases her grip to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm so sorry... I guess I got a little too excited there. If I'm being completely honest, I've been looking forward to meeting you for quite a while."

You keep your smile up despite the pit forming in your stomach. "Oh really?"

"Yes! Aizawa Sensei's email didn't say much but when he mentioned welcoming a new face to our class, I couldn't help but get butterflies," Yaomomo gushes with sincerity. Her eyes meet yours, then, and the twinkle in her gaze grows stronger as she holds a determined fist up to her heart. "As vice class representative, it's my job to look after my fellow classmates— Old and new. I just hope your first impression of us was alright...?"

Her tone is hopeful. Briefly, your gaze flickers towards one of the rows up front, a certain (not) blonde catching your eye and sending a wink your way. He turns away shortly after, looking rather proud of himself as a nearby classmate facepalms.

Did you get the feeling he'd been waiting this whole time just to do that? Yes.

Did the notion offput you in any way? Surprisingly no.

With a lopsided grin, you tilt your head Yaomomo's way. "Yeah, you guys seem pretty cool! I'm excited to be going to school with you."

You almost have to shield your eyes from the power of the other's smile. Her eyes crinkling at the corners and you look on in awe as your classmate seems to have the power of the sun on her side. "I— Ah, we look forward to spending the school year with you too!"

The genuine warmth in her tone has your cheeks warming.

Conversations settle as Aizawa once again calls your attention to the front of the room, the day's lesson about to begin. You settle into your chair, making yourself comfortable for what was sure to be several hours spent behind a desk, only to pause when–

“Alright, everyone up from your seats and out the door. I hope you guys remember where the P.E. grounds are because stragglers WILL be left behind.”

You blink as those around you stand from their desks, and the sound of scuffing chairs and shuffling feet fill the air as your classmates make their way towards the door. Realization then dawns on you. Hopping to your feet as well, you tuck your chair in behind you and follow after a beckoning Yaomomo. 

Right, the Entrance Ceremony! You totally forgot!

But the P.E. grounds? You could have sworn it was supposed to be held in one of the gyms…

Eh. You must have read it wrong.

Chapter Text

You admired Shota Aizawa a good deal.

Transfering over to a new school in a new country meant you had to do your fair share of research beforehand. A good bit of that time was spent looking up whatever info you could get on your would-be instructors and school staff. Thankfully, heroes were pretty much celebrities in this day and age, leaving you with an abundance of resources to work with. Thank God for all those Hero websites and blogs. 

Though you had a feeling a fair share of them weren't as accurate they claimed to be.

(You stare at the headline for a minute, a hundred emotions coursing through you.

Present Mic Pregnant with Nicolas Cage Lovechild?!

“...Alright,” you concede, face carefully blank as you slowly inch your laptop shut, “that’s enough internet for today.”)

Upon learning the name of your new homeroom teacher, you did your best to learn what you could about the man. He was apparently a bit of a mystery, keeping to the shadows for the most part and taking down villains under the cover of night (much like a certain bat-themed hero from back in the states). His only public appearances were made before the Hero Association and at press conferences concerning his students last year.

As helpful as your research had been, however, it was only after meeting the man face-to-face that things were put into perspective.

Shouta Aizawa was a lot of things. He was stern, he was always brutally honest, and so rough around the edges he could put a pineapple to shame. But he was a good guy at the end of the day— One who clearly cared for his students and those around him.

Even if he had a really weird way of showing it.

Like forcing poor ol' you to participate in what was basically an hour of P.E. first thing in the morning.

The frown on your face felt like it’d stay there forever, your expression twisted into one of barely suppressed irritation. You were currently in the locker room, peeling your dirtied and sweat-drenched tracksuit off your body after an hour spent running and jumping and punting baseballs outside.

One hour .

When your instructor had dragged your class over to the school’s P.E. grounds, announcing that you'd be participating in an apprehension test instead of attending the school's entrance ceremony, you'd actually been rather excited. Meanwhile the rest of your classmates seemed to deflate at the news— something that left you befuddled at the time. A morning spent outside under the warm sun sounded way more entertaining than being cooped up behind a desk, looking over class syllabus after class syllabus. You had no idea where your classmates' sudden dread had emerged from.

Now you knew.

Shouta Aizawa, despite being a good guy and an excellent hero, was also the type of maniac to put his students through ONE HOUR of grueling workouts just to see if anyone had slacked off over the break.

You were admittedly pretty put off by the fact the whole ordeal had been so long, but who could blame you? Especially after learning your instructor had pulled the same stunt last year, but that one hadn’t lasted nearly as long. 20 minutes to an hour was a huge leap, even for a school as hardcore as U.A. High.

You didn't even want to think about what Aizawa had planned for third year...

Adjusting the last bit of your uniform, you close your lucker shut and turn to throw your ruined tracksuit into a hamper stationed nearby. The locker room was by now empty, the rest of your classmates having already gotten dressed at a much faster rate and long since out the door. 

A good thing too because the last thing you wanted was for anyone else to witness you cursing out your Sensei.

Oh well. No use in complaining about it now , you thought with a sigh. What's done is done, and you wouldn't waste your time whining to Aizawa. You got the feeling the man would be less than impressed by that course of action, and you were already far from his good graces.

At the very least, your Sensei had been decent enough to give you and the rest of your class the day off. The halls were barren as you exit the locker room, the rest of the school no doubt still in class. You briefly consider making a beeline for the lunch room, but ultimately think better of it. For one, you had no idea if Lunch Rush would even be there so early (lunch officially wasn't until two hours from now), and secondly...

You needed a nap. A nice, long, undisturbed nap.

"Nap first," you decide with a nod, marching purposefully in the direction of your class dormitory. "Then food."

Minutes later and you arrive on the other side of campus. What you expect to see is an empty courtyard, quiet save for maybe a few of your classmates out and about.

What you end up finding is pretty much the opposite.

Three different moving vans are parked on the wide stretch of concrete before your dorm building, a fair bit of distance set between each as to provide room for the students milling about. You spot a few familiar faces in the crowd and immediately recognize them as your classmates. Multiple bodies crowd around the vans, some treading up the ramps set out behind each vehicle and into the large hatches in the back, and eventually reappearing with some manner of box and/or household item in hand.

The air is alive with noise, from the sound of shuffling shoes along concrete to the commotion of overlapping conversation and a few barked orders— You were surprised nobody had come out to complain about the commotion just yet.

From across the way, you watch in silence as a handful of your classmates work in tandem to unload the vans. It takes a moment but soon you find order within the chaos. Some students were responsible for unloading cargo from the trucks, hefting heavy-looking luggage down the ramps into the arms of what you dubbed the Ground Team(™). Those part of the Ground Team(™) would then take the cargo into the dorm building, where you assumed the rest of the class was.

It was a simple system, but it clearly got the job done.

As fun as it was watching your new classmates exercise such excellent teamwork, though, you realize that just standing around like a dope probably wasn't the most helpful thing to do. And so, with a growing sense of vigor, you step towards the nearest student— A large boy with many arms. He's heading towards the back of the nearest truck when you catch up to him.

You immediately recognize him from when you introduced yourself to the class earlier that morning. At the time you couldn't help wonder who's bright idea it was to sit him in the front row because DAMN was the fucking guy TALL!

Even more so standing up than he was sitting down.

You have to physically crane your neck upwards just to make eye contact with the guy. A sliver of intimidation crawls up your spine as you realize his eye (yes, just the one) is the only part of his face you can actually see, the rest of him hidden behind the blue fabric of his mask. A single, dark pupil stares down at you, the other hidden behind pale grey bangs.

Mr. Tall and Mysterious remains silent as you introduce yourself. It's only after you offer your assistance that he speaks, his voice deep and stoic. 

"I think we’re good out here," He explains. You nearly deflate at the indirect rejection, but then the other uses one of his many arms to point towards the dorm building's front doors, left ajar for easy inside access. "But we might still need a hand sorting out everyone's stuff. Just head inside and check in with Iida. He'll give you something to do."

"Iida...?"

You watch, enthralled, as that hand morphs into a grinning mouth. "The big guy with glasses and killer calves. He's standing in the middle of the living room and shouting orders, you can't miss him."

As rude as it probably was, it takes a while for you to stop gawking at the newly formed mouth, the surprise slowly ebbing away the longer you stare. Eventually the corners of your lips twitch upwards. You shoot your own smile, first towards the grinning appendage, then up at your towering classmate and say, "That helps a lot. Thanks… Um…?"

"Shouji." That mouth morphs back into a hand, and you accept the handshake it offers.

"King. Cool quirk, by the way."

That earns you a smile from beneath the face mask, if the shifting of the fabric is anything to go by. "Thank you."

You depart from your classmate shortly after, bidding him goodbye as you lightly jog up the steps leading to open doors of 2-A’s dormitory building. A few others pass you on the way, offering you quick smiles or just simple, short eye contact before going on their way. Thankfully none of them try to stop you for conversation.

Stepping into the living area, you take a moment to eye your surroundings. The whole place is swamped in boxes and furniture and suitcases galore. A handful of students mill about the room, some organizing cargo into piles while others head upstairs with full arms. A boy stands tall in the center of the chaos. His voice is loud, nearly shouting as he directs his classmates, and you let your eyes assess his figure for a second.

Big guy. Glasses. Killer calves (well defined AND there were literal exhaust pipes protruding from the skin? You make a mental note to ask him about his workout regimen.)

Iida.

Careful to avoid stepping on any stray boxes or duffle bags, you maneuver your way towards your loud classmate. You manage to catch his eye once you enter his field of vision. He turns to you fully, and you pause as those blue eyes zero in on you instantly.

"Good evening, new classmate! What an unexpected surprise!"

“They live here too, dude,” Kaminari snarks as he passes by. The blonde turns to send you a wink, only to stub his toe on a box full of dumbells.

"Oh... Right! Of course!" Iida says matter-of-factly, his cheeks tinting as he (and the rest of the room) ignore the wailing blonde only a few feet away. The tall boy clears his throat. "I hope you can excuse me, I'm not the best at meeting new peers. I can assure you that I'm working on it, though!"

You shake your head, a small smile on your lips. "That's okay, I don't mind." You make a show of glancing around the room, eyes skimming over the countless luggage littering every surface. "So what have you guys been up to lately?"

"Ah, yes!" Iida perks up, his head smoothly turning side-to-side as he scours the area. "Since Aizawa Sensei dismissed us from class ahead of schedule, the move-in crew didn't have the chance to deliver our luggage to our rooms. I thought it unnecessary for them to go through all the trouble now that we're here. My classmates and I are currently processing our belongings. The team outside are responsible for unloading everything from the vans, and once it's brought in here, the rest of us sort through everything and carry it up to the designated dorms."

"Sounds fast and efficient. That's really impressive."

"Thank you! Though I can't take full credit for this operation. I may be responsible for keeping things moving, but Yaoyorozu is truly the mastermind behind it all!"

"I wouldn't expect any less from our class representative."

"Indeed!"

Rocking on your heels, you shoot your classmate an expectant look. "So... What should I do?"

But Iida merely shakes his head. He holds a hand up with the palm facing you and his fingers held tightly together. "There's no need, King. Your dorm has already been set up, from what I recall. It's your first day as an official part of our class, and as class deputy I must insist that you relax in the comfort of your room for today. You require rest after the stressful morning Aizawa Sensei has put upon you."

A small part of you is embarrassed that your exhaustion from the apprehension test was obvious enough for Iida to see.

The larger part of you, however, is touched. This boy was obviously a stickler for the rules, someone who wanted others to pull their own weight, yet he was kind enough to let you go rather than force you into working with the others. You got the feeling it wasn't something he did often. Lucky you!

But as nice as a nap sounded right about now… 

"No offense, Iida, but you seem pretty tired too."

It was nice to know that you weren't the only one the apprehension test took a toll on. As tall as he stood before you, it was hard to ignore the rigidness of Iida's posture. How it was possible for someone’s shoulders to be tense AND sag at the same time was a mystery to you.

"You'd be sacrificing quite a bit of time helping us," your classmate explains, polite but stubborn. "I can't ask that of you."

"Well it's a good thing you didn't ask. I offered." You smile as you stare at the other, your gaze eager yet unrelenting. Eventually, Iida sighs.

"I get the feeling you’re going to help out even if I tell you otherwise," he says, and you release a guilty chuckle as he hits the nail on the head, "Although I will admit that having an extra set of hands should speed up the process... Okay then, you may help!"

You try not to seem too satisfied as you grin at the boy. "Thanks, Iida. I'll try not to mess anything up."

"Of course. I have faith in your abilities."

Hopefully not too much faith, you comment internally, cautiously stepping over an errant (and for some reason heavily bedazzled) lamp as Iida leads you over to a nearby pile of boxes, luggage and the like.

"As you can see, each item is sorted into one of four piles. Each pile corresponds to a different floor of the building," Iida explains as the both of you come to a stop before one of said piles. With robotic movements, your classmate bends down and plucks up the closest thing— A yellow duffle bag with little bunnies hopping across the fabric. A line of pale tape stretches along the side of the bag, and Iida runs his finger along the handwriting etched onto it with black marker. "This pile is for the third floor, as it says here. You'll also find a name written below the number. My classmates have written their names on their dorm doors as well, which should make it easier to deliver things to the proper room."

Iida turns to you then. Placing the duffle bag in your grasp, he meets your gaze with imploring eyes. "Any questions?"

"Just one." You glance downwards, and your head gives a curious tilt at the glinting exhaust pipes sprouting from your classmate's calves. "Do those hurt?"

"Ah, only when I have to pull them out. Good luck!"

And with that, Iida swiftly turns on his heel and marches over to the nearby kitchen area, chopping furiously as he reprimands another student. "Satou! You can restock the kitchen after everyone's luggage has been dealt with! When did you even find the time to buy all these ingredients?"

The large boy standing guiltily near the pantry only shrugs. "I had some coupons saved up over the break."

"I admire your efforts in saving money but unfortunately that does not answer my question."

Meanwhile, you barely give the exchange any thought, too busy standing stockstill and wide-eyed in the middle of the living area.

Only when he has to pull them out...?

God, you regret asking.

Thankfully you manage to shake off your disgust surprise and get down to business. You deliver the cute rabbit duffle up to its rightful destination, matching the cute, meek handwriting to the one on the door. You continue with your task for a good few minutes, carefully transporting all sorts of knickknacks and personal items up the stairs and into the barren rooms above.

One neon pink, leopard-print rug

A box full of dumbbells.

Two guitar cases— One a pure, sleek black and the other littered with stickers of what you could only assume were punk rock bands.

Three large, thick blankets, each in some variation of green.

Two separate crates of tatami mat style flooring (who the hell was replacing their floorboards?).

A stack of encyclopedias.

A plastic container full of colorful baking supplies.

Three industrial-sized bags of rabbit food.

And finally your current item-to-be-delivered: That overly bedazzled lamp from earlier. Though if you were to be completely honest, out of all the items you've delivered so far, this one had to be the most difficult to deal with.

Your eyes nearly squeeze shut with how hard you squint at the stupid thing. Even as you held it out at arm's length, you still weren't safe from its glittering ways. With all those plastic crystals littering every perceivable crevice, all it took was the slightest sliver of light to hit it and suddenly your retinas were being stabbed with the power of Vitamin C.

The damn lamp was an actual eyesore!

Having the sun glare back at you full force made it hard to see where you were going. Even more so when walking up a flight of stairs. 

Luckily, you only had to deliver the lamp to the second floor. You slowly tread up the steps, paying little attention to those who happen to pass by, holding the lamp away from you as if it was about to explode. It takes a while before you finally reach the top of the staircase. 

You're too focused on not blinding yourself to notice the rushed steps heading your way—

Suddenly you're squinting no more, your eyes blown wide as something heavy knocks into your front. You manage to grip the lamp close before it can fumble out of your grasp, but you don't get much time to pat yourself on the back for the save before realizing your center of gravity is off...

And the world is tilting...? Oh, nevermind, you’re just falling backwards.

Oh shit , WAIT A MINUTE—!

Your free hand shoots out in some sort of fight or flight response, blindly, desperately grasping at whatever you can reach. And then suddenly you're clutching onto something.

Whatever it is lets out a strained noise as you grab onto it.

For a second it feels as if whatever you're holding onto is about to fall too, but thankfully your saving grace grows sturdy before you meet your end. A moment passes and you use it to catch your breath from the sudden scare. Your feet remain planted just on the edge of the stair's top step while the ceiling stares back down at you, your body nearly horizontal as your weight leaves leaning backwards at an awkward angle.

A strangled sound catches your attention. You’re calm enough to realize you're not the one who made it. Your head tilts down, away from the ceiling, to peer at the person standing before you.

Forest green curls. A constellation of freckles spread out along sun-kissed skin. Large eyes blown wide as they can go, emerald irises surrounding pupils full of shock and panic.

"Oh," you breathe. "Hey, Broccoli Boy."

The surprise in those green eyes is quickly snuffed out by confusion. "Is that… Do you mean me?"

“Aww, no fair! I want a cute nickname too!” Another voice whines from down the hall, away from your line of sight.

"Lemon Head and Broccoli Boy," a different voice lists off with humor. "Man, it's like you're gathering your own crew of manly fruits and veggies! Now I want a nickname!",

“No way, I was here first!”

A grunt has you shifting your focus back towards the boy in front of you. His face has gained more color in the last few seconds, those freckles standing out against those blushing cheeks. He has his eyes trained downwards and you follow his gaze to find your hand clutching the front of his shirt in an intense grip.

Ah. No wonder you hadn't fallen.

It strikes you that you're not the only one kept at a weird angle. The weight of your body has your classmate's upper half bending forward, nearly tipping over himself as he indirectly dangles you above the steep steps behind you.

(You're not sure what impresses you more: Broccoli Boy's strength or the fact his shirt hasn’t torn already.)

"Sorry," you offer as you shift your weight, unrooting one foot to set it down onto the step behind you, regaining your balance and turning yourself upright once more. All the while keeping the lamp secure in your occupied arm. You release your death grip on Brocoli Boy’s shirt, wincing at the clump of wrinkled fabric that your hand leaves behind. He was definitely gonna need to iron that out later.

Broccoli Boy's features blur together with how furiously he shakes his head. That blush is still present as he says, "N-No, please, don't worry about it! It's my fault for bumping into you! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, I'm so sorry!"

Your classmate bows down in apology, but you just pat his shoulder kindly. "Don't sweat it, buddy, it was an accident. I'm just glad you... Caught..? Me?"

Broccoli Boy laughs, a bashful sound. The edges of his mouth lift up as he moves a hand to ruffle the back of his curly mane.

The moment is interrupted by the sound of nearing footsteps. The both of you turn together to find two figures approaching from down the hall, both eyeing you and your classmate with curious yet friendly eyes.

"Midoriya, bro, good going with the shirt!" The one with red hair praises as he pumps a fist in the air. His shark-toothed grin is bright and merry, so much so that you nearly find yourself returning the gesture— Especially when those ruby eyes shift to you. "And the way you reached out to grab it— Whoa! Your reflexes are like lightning! Super manly!"

His companion nods enthusiastically from beside him, her short, pink locks bouncing at the motion. "Yeah, it was like watching a Hallmark movie! Super romantic! It's a classic setup, y'know— Person A almost trips over themselves but then Person B comes in and catches them, and then they stare into each other's eyes and instantly form a connection..." She sighs wistfully.

"Romantic?" You chuckle, your cheeks warming at the insinuation.

"I-It wasn't romantic , Mina! We almost fell down the stairs!" your green-haired companion insists with furrowed brows, his earlier blush returning with a vengeance.

"Well obviously ," his classmate says in light exasperation. One hand lands on her cocked hip while the other wags a finger at the two of you in disapproval. "You guys didn't even introduce yourselves yet! I mean that's literally Meet Cute Etiquette 101, helloooo!"

"It wasn't a... Oh." Realization dawns upon Broccoli Boy. He turns to you, and you nearly jump with how quickly he bows down once more, looking embarrassed but determined all the same as he rises to meet you gaze head on. "I'm Izuku Midoriya!. Again, I'm really sorry for bumping into you but I hope we can be friends!"

You nearly open your mouth to respond, but not before the guy with scarlet mountain peaks for hair grabs your attention with that loud voice of his. Jabbing a thumb at his chest, he introduces himself with a bold grin. "Name’s Eijirou Kirishima! I'm super pumped to meet you!"

"And I'm Mina," your female classmate adds with matching enthusiasm. Her mouth tilts into a smirk as she sends a wink your way. "But if you're still giving out nicknames, Cutie, then you can call me whatever you want."

Kirishima laughs boisterously, those sharp teeth of his on full display as he holds a high five up for his friend. “Kaminari should take lessons from you!”

“Please,” Mina gloats as she slaps her hand against the boy’s, “what I have can’t be taught. Also the boy hangs out with Mineta. He’s beyond help.”

“Fair.”

The others turn to look at you, then, and your smile turns sheepish. "I was only using nicknames because I didn't know your names..." A smirk slips onto your lips as you return Mina's wink. "But if Bubblegum Babe here insists, then I guess I can't refuse."

Your pink-skinned classmate squeals in delight, those golden irises popping out against the black of her scleras. "Oh we're SO friends now, it’s official! No takebacksies!"

Mina's eyes suddenly narrow, squinting as she stares back just a tad. You and the others watch in concern as the girl points at the object still in your arm. "Not to sound judgemental but that hideous thing's not yours , is it?"

"Calling it hideous sounds... awfully judgemental," Midoriya points out as he sideeyes his classmate.

"Well am I wrong? I mean I can't even look at the thing! Literally, it hurts my eyes!"

Kirishima merely nods in agreement, his bright red eyes barely visible as he squints.

You smile in apology, willfully ignoring the glint in the corner of your eye as you tuck the lamp in your grasp under your arm, hoping your body will help shield your classmates from the bedazzled monstrosity. "Yeah, it's kind of a nightmare to deal with. I'm supposed to be delivering it to the owner's room, but I can barely walk straight without going blind. Pretty sure it's part of the reason I bumped into you earlier, Midoriya. Again, my bad."

The other student shakes his head. "It's fine," he assures. He eyes the gaudy piece of furniture, a small smile worming its way onto his face as he meets your gaze. "But I'm pretty sure I know who it belongs to. One of my dorm neighbors, actually."

"Knew it." From the way Kirishima grins, elbowing his pink friend beside him knowingly, you guess he must know exactly who the other boy was referring to.

Mina only rolls her eyes. "Who else would willingly own something like that?"

"...Should I be worried?" You ask cautiously, feeling out of the loop as the others exchange amused looks.

"Maybe a little," Midoriya admits as he starts walking down the row of dorms on the right, motioning you to follow. You do so, not minding one bit as Kirishima and Mina tag along. Sending you a nervous look over his shoulder, the green-haired teen continues, "You, umm, wouldn't happen to have a pair of sunglasses on you, would you?"

Your brows furrow in confusion. "No...?"

"Oh... You might have to squint, then."

Moments later and the four of you arrive near the far end of the hall. You come to a stop outside the dorm second farthest from the stairs, though unlike the other rooms you've visited so far, the door to this one is firmly shut. The name Yuuga Aoyama is tapped to the door in extravagant cursive, and you eye the twinkling, silver ink that sparkles under the light. You then send a brief glance down at the lamp tucked under your arm.

Glitter pen.

Bedazzled lamp.

What next, a disco ball?

You open the door, and Midoriya's warning to squint is remembered too late as a blast of light assaults your retinas. You end up stumbling back and, to make matters worse, the lamp drops from your hold and crushes your foot. Midorya tries to console you as you clutch your hurt limb, the boy growing nervous as you spew curses left and right.

“ACK—! JESUS FUCK!” You shout while clutching your hurt foot. “I HATE THAT STUPID ASS LAMP!”

“Ooh,” Mina marvels, eyes sparkling as she watches you hop around on one leg. “English cusswords!”

Kirishima sends his friend a curious look. “What’re they saying?”

“Fuck… Ass...”

“...That’s it?”

Mina shrugs. “I was failing English last year, remember?”

“Bro. You seriously need to expand your vocab.”

Midoriya ends up delivering the lamp in your stead, tottering into Aoyama’s dorm with a strong squint while you furiously rub at your eyes. Mina and Kirishima do their best to console you, though you assure them you're just fine. (Not that you can say the same for your peepers. You're pretty sure even the backs of your eyeballs are dry.)

"I'm so sorry!" Midoriya apologizes as you all head back towards the stairs. Worried, he chews at his lip while watching you attempt to blink away the dark spots dancing across your eyes. "I-I should have warned you better, I didn't think Aoyama's room would be that bright!"

Behind you, Mina huffs in light irritation. "See? I told you guys we should have put up some sorta warning outside their room! One of these days some poor soul’s gonna wander in there and come out without working eyeballs!”

"Brokoyami went in there a bunch last year, and his eyes seem just fine,” Kirishima points out. At the weird looks the rest of you send his way, the redhead only shrugs. “What? I can give out manly nicknames, too!”

"Okay, Kiri, no. And anyways, Tokoyami was probably too busy starting at Aoyama to go too blind."

"Staring at Aoyama? Why?"

"Weeeeell," Mina starts, and you don't even need to turn around to sense the mischievous smirk spreading out across her face. "Crows DO like shiny things, if you get what I mean... Wink wink, nudge nudge!"

"Huh... Maybe he should try asking Aoyama to switch wardrobes!" Kirishima chuckles, the implication behind his friend's words bouncing right off his spiky head.

A long, quiet sigh. "Friends with a himbo. Woe is me."

"What's a himbro? Sounds like my kinda guy! We should totally hang sometime!"

"...Nevermind."

You glanced over at Midoriya, your vision now returned for the most part. He’s sending you not-so-discreet looks of concern.

“I’m fine,” you assure, snickering at the startled look on the boy’s face once you catch him in the act. "My eyes still kinda sting, but I’m sure it’s fine. I think we're almost done sorting all the luggage anyways."

You start down the stairs, only to stumble when your foot misses the next step by an inch or so. Midoriya's hand on your arm thankfully stops your fall. 

You turn to the boy, taken aback by the way his emerald eyes shine with resolve. "I'm sure you can take care of yourself just fine, but just in case... Maybe I should stick around you just a little longer?” He swiftly backtracks at your wide-eyed expression. “J-Just to make sure! And only if you're okay with it!"

That last part is squeaked rather than said, and you just barely stop yourself from giggling at the boy's expense.

"That sounds super chivalrous of you, Midoribro!" Kirishima grins, fist clenched in determination. "Count me in!"

Mina sends her friend a flat look. Then she turns to you, her features doing a 180 as she sends you a sunny smile. "But hey, I'll come too! As if I'd pass up the opportunity to spend more time with a total cutie!"

A chuckle escapes you. You glance away, humming loudly as you mime thinking really hard about it. "Well, I guess if you guys really don't mind..." A grin slews itself across your face as you look back towards your classmates, a twinkle in your eyes. 

"Last one to deliver the most stuff to floor five has to buy the others cookies from the lunchroom!"

And with that, you bolt down the stairs, leaving the other three to gawp after your retreating form.

"Hey!" Mina complains as she and the boys spring into action. She bolts down the steps with her tongue stuck out towards the other two as she passes by.

Kirishima frowns as he thunders after. “Unmanly move there, Ashibro!”

“Okay, now I HOPE you lose, Kiri!”

“Um, guys—”

"NO RUNNING IN THE DORMS!"

"Sorry Iida!" Midoriya shouts in apology as he and his friends clamber into the living area. The distraction is all it takes and all too soon, the broccoli-headed boy finds himself stumbling over his own feet. The floor looms closer as he falls—

Midoriya blinks down at the hardwood just barely touching the tip of his nose. He turns his head to find you grasping onto his shirt for the second time that day, but by the back this time. 

The boy can’t help but smile as you send him a knowing wink.

"Psssst! Midoriya!"

You and your classmate glance over to find Lemon He— Uhh, Kaminari (plus a few others) watching the scene with wide eyes. The "blonde" cups the sides of his mouth, as if the action would help quiet his unusually loud whisper. "Trade spots with me real quick?"

"...What?"

"C'mon, man! I've got this really killer pickup line that I've been dying to use and this is the perfect set up!"

"Um, Kaminari, I don't think—"

"It goes like, 'Oops! I think I've fallen for y—'"

"SHUT UP KAMINARI!" The whole room collectively shouts.

You end up being the one losing the bet, much to your utter disappointment.

Maybe you were still winded from Aizawa's earlier apprehension test, or maybe that peek into Aoyama's room had affected your vision more than you thought. Either way, the others are ecstatic and don't hesitate to remind you of the stakes of your bet.

"Get me an M&M cookie, and I swear I'll love you forever," Mina sings as she passes by, winking once more before heading up the stairs to deliver a bag marked for the fourth floor.

"I like white macadamia nut!" Shooting you one last grin, Kirishima quickly follows after his pink friend. "Sweet and hard, just like me!"

You hear Mina sigh. "Context, Kiri. Context. We'll see you at lunch, Cutie!"

You playfully roll your eyes at the pair. Hands on your hips, you let your gaze sweep over the expanse of the living area and the handful of students left in it.

During the duration of the bet, it seemed the rest of 2-A had already made some serious headway dispersing the rest of the cargo to the rest of the building. Those unloading the moving vans had long since migrated inside to help with the efforts. Now there were only a handful of items left on the first floor and a majority of students had already left to set up their own rooms, leaving only you and a few others to deliver the remaining things.

You bend down to pick up the box of records on the ground before you— The last item marked for the third floor. Box in arm, you shoot a smile at the boy standing patiently beside you. "What about you, Midoriya? Any cookie preferences I should know about?"

"Chocolate chips are fine with me.”

"You sure? You can pick something else, I don't mind the price."

Clutching the handle of a nearby suitcase, your classmate's lips tilt up earnestly. "No, it's fine! I like chocolate chip."

"If you say so." Shrugging, your eyes wander down to the suitcase in the other’s possession. It's mostly blue, with lots of little chibi All Might's striking various heroic poses all throughout. You snort when you spot the name taped to the front. "Someone's a fan."

At this point the shade of red creeping up the other's face was a familiar sight. Midoriya was easily flustered, you found. "We-Well I just admire him a lot, that's all!"

"I'll say."

"But just the normal amount of admiration! I mean he IS the Number One Hero here in Japan, so it's only natural that I'm such a fan! And sure, we do share a special bond since he's kinda like my mentor, but he's a teacher here at U.A. so I'm not really the only one he's mentoring at the moment and also that special bond I mentioned earlier well I wouldn't really say it's SPECIAL special I just meant it in the sense that me and him spend a lot of time together NOT THAT THAT'S ANYTHING TO BE SUSPICIOUS ABOUT IN ANY WAY I JUST MEANT—!"

"Oooooookkkaaayyyyyy," you drawl with wide eyes, slapping a hand down on the other's shoulder in an attempt to sooth his frantic (and definitely not suspicious) meltdown.

Rambling put to a halt, Midoriya's cheeks turn even warmer as his eyes meet yours. His embarrassment is clear as a strangled noise squirks free from his throat. 

"S-Sorry," he squeaks, "I just... Like All Might a lot...?"

You spare a glance down at the suitcase beside the boy. "Uh, yeah, I could tell. Now come on," you usher as you start making your way towards the stairs. "We've still got a little while before lunch, right? I think I'll take a nap in the meantime. What about you?"

"I'll probably give my mom a call once my room's set up." Grateful for the change of subject, Midoriya smiles fondly. “My mom will probably freak out if I don’t.”

"Shit," you curse as the two of you clamber up the first steps. "I should probably do that too. I was gonna do it this morning but, uh... Well, Aizawa Sensei woke me up at six a.m., believe it or not."

The other releases a dry chuckle. "Yup, that’s out Sensei."

Soon enough the both of you arrive on the second floor. Midoriya steps out into the hall, towards his dorm room, while you continue up the stairs. You shoot a quick grin down towards the broccoli-headed boy as you hike onwards, calling out, "See you later, neighbor!"

Your classmate stops outside his door. At his confused expression, you motion towards the room just across the hall from his own.

You try not to laugh too hard as the boy's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

Double checking the details scrawled onto the box in your arms, you clamber up the steps before eventually reaching the third floor. It doesn't take long before you find your destination. First room to your left, the name on the door matches the name written on the box. As you step towards the room, recognition sparks within you at the sight of all the band stickers slapped along the door's surface.

You decided to knock instead of just barging in, assuming that the owner was already inside. Moments after you do, the door gently swings open.

A familiar face greets you.

Confused, you quickly eye the name on the box in your arms. You stare at the girl standing before you. "Yaomomo?"

Yaoyurozu responds, just as surprised, "Oh, hello. It's nice to see you again."

Your lips curve up in a slight smile. "Same here, uh—" Lifting up the box in your arms for emphasis, you ask, "You wouldn't happen to know a... Kyoka Jirou, would you?"

The girl's eyes briefly widen in understanding before she gives a small nod. Turning her head, she glances back into the room and she calls out, "Kyoka, the last of your things are here! Would you like me to bring them in for you?"

"No thanks, babe," a voice calls from further inside the room. "I'll be there in a sec. Lemme just finish setting up my drum kit real quick— Shit!"

The sound of something heavy hitting the ground emits past the doorway, followed by a few muttered curses. Yaomomo smiles, her head shaking fondly as she turns back to you. "I saw you helping out with the luggage earlier. Thank you, by the way. You really didn't have to, nobody would have held it against you if you felt like relaxing in your dorm instead."

"Iida said the same thing, actually," you recall with amusement. (Great minds think alike, you suppose.) "And like I told him, it's no problem. It was a class effort, and last I checked, I count as part of the class."

Yaomomo's eyes gain that familiar sparkle. "Yes, you are."

Suddenly, your attention is stolen away by the shuffling of approaching feet.

"Sometimes I hate that bass drum," grumbles a familiar voice. Someone makes their way from behind your vice class rep, the tall girl stepping over to make room as the shorter girl comes to a stop just beside her. 

Dark eyes immediately meet yours. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey." You lift the box in your arms, once again drawing attention to it. "This is for you," you explain as Long Earlobes takes the package gratefully.

"Oh, let me introduce you two!" Yaomomo pipes up. Bright-eyed, your classmate motions towards Long Earlobes with one hand, the other placed gently upon the shorter girl's shoulders. "You already know who King is, Kyoka. And King, this is my wonderful partner, Kyoka Jirou. Isn’t she just lovely? I'm incredibly lucky!"

Long Earlobes, or Jirou as you now know her, grows pink at her girlfriend's kind words. "Babe, c'mon. I'm the lucky one here."

"That’s not true."

"What? Says who?"

"Me. I’m the class Representative, afterall. My word is law.”

A snort from the shorter girl. “You sound like a dictator.”

“Oh?” Yaoyurozu hums playfully as she leans her head atop the other’s. “Are you saying you wouldn’t love me if I was a dictator?”

Jirou rolls her eyes but can’t help how the edge of her lips lift up. “I guess not.”

The two exchange fond looks, giggling quietly to each other...

Meanwhile you're standing across from them, feeling like the ultimate third wheel as both girls seem to forget about your existence altogether.

“Okay… Cool." You jab a thumb in the direction of the stairs behind you. The smile plastered across your face is a tad awkward as you say, "So, I'll just get going then. Great meeting you, Jirou."

Your classmates turn bashful at the reminder of your presence. Yaomomo seems to be the least bothered out of the two, that bright smile only turning a tad sheepish even despite the color on her cheeks, meanwhile her girlfriend is flustered enough for the both of them. 

You thought Midoriya was the only one capable of turning that pink.

Apparently you were wrong.

"Right, um, sorry. Thanks for bringing my stuff. Nice meeting you too..." Jirou's shoulders bunch up, her introvert showing as she all but tries to hide behind the box in her arms.

"Forgive her," Yaomomo says in a near whisper, both hands soothing over her partner's tense shoulders. "She's a bit shy."

"Momo!"

The taller only shrugs, gently plucking the box from the other's grasp before disappearing back into the room. "I'm sorry if the truth hurts you, Kyoka."

"Oh my God—" Jirou grumbles out something unintelligible as her girlfriend leaves. She sighs before lifting her gaze up to meet yours. Despite being red in the face, she summons up enough courage to say, "So... I heard you ran into Kaminari earlier."

You hum. "You mean before or after class?"

"...You ran into him more than once?"

"Well yeah. We, uh, 'met' out in the hall before homeroom. He rated me a 7 out of 10."

The girl across you narrows her eyes. The air around her seems to darken as she asks in a low tone, "And after class?"

You purse your lips. 

Hmmm… Jirou was giving off serious chokehold vibes right now, and you had a strong suspicion that Lemon Head was the one in danger of being on the receiving end. Keeping silent could mean saving him from his friend's(?) wrath...

You smile. "He tried to use a pickup line on me, actually."

(Lemon Head had it coming. Rating people on their looks was gross.)

((No, you weren't salty about the rating he gave you. Who said that? Shut up!))

Yaomomo returns, stepping beside her glowering girlfriend with a curious glance. "Kaminari?"

You blink. “How'd you know?"

"Call it an educated guess."

You leave for your own dorm shortly after— Though not before Jirou promises to ' take care ' of Kaminari for you… You made a mental reminder not to get on the girl's bad side. Yaomomo had even invited you to join them both for lunch, but you had politely declined. You already had lunch plans.

Arms spread, you allow yourself to flop backwards onto your mattress. With a content sigh, you spend some time sorting through the events of your (so far) very eventful day. Finally meeting your classmates, that stupid apprehension test, working with the others to get everyone's luggage sorted, making new friends, almost losing your eyesight and then admiring the quality of glitterpen Aoyama had used for their door...

Not to mention that one weird conversation that followed after.

( "The last time I tried to ask where they got it, or at least what brand, they just responded in French and tried to feed me cheese!"

"Tell me about it!"

"Preach, man."

Mina and Kirishima look to their green-haired classmate with nods of understanding, and you hesitantly join along, not wanting to be the odd one out.

Ah yes. That very relatable moment when your classmate speaks French and proceeds to feed you cheese. So annoying. You hate it when that happens .)

A quiet buzz draws you out from your reminiscing. Lifting your head, you glance over to where the screen of your phone is alight with notifications. You scoot further up the bed to reach it as the sheets beneath you crinkle.

Clone: Uncle Keone is back and very, very drunk.

Clone: [sobbingdrunkuncle.jpeg]

Clone: He won't stop crying about Lani. Please help me.

You: Why are YOU the one deeling with him? Where's everyone else?

Clone: *Dealing.

You: Leave the annoying shit to Niko pls

Clone: Mom's on patrol, Mami's out at her bookclub, Niko's probably in some dark corner playing Minecraft and I'm in the kitchen because I was waiting for a pizza.

Clone: Doorbell rang a while ago. Spoiler alert, it was NOT the pizza guy.

Clone: Just a drunk, sad uncle.

You: What the hell

You: The pizza never came???

Clone: No, it did.

You: Oh cool what kind

Clone: Veggie Lovers, obviously.

Clone: WAIT

Clone: We're getting off track.

Clone: Just call Lani, please. Tell her to call or something bef

Clone: Oh fuck, nevermind, he's already crying onto my pizza...

You: Actually I hear adding a little salt to veggie lovers is supposed to make it taste better

Clone: JUST 

Clone: CALL OUR COUSIN 

Clone: DAMN IT

You: OKAY jesus fine

With a good-natured eyeroll, you swipe your thumbs across the screen a couple times before opening up another text thread.

You: Call your dad pls

LAMElani: (・・ ) ?

You: He's drunk and misses you a lot and won't stop crying on Sammy's pizza

LAMElani: "wont stop crying on sammys pizza" 

LAMElani: (⊙_⊙) lmao that sounds like some kinda euphamism

You: EW??

You: NO????

You: Just call your dad god damnit

LAMElani: i legit got off the phone with him like 20 mins ago??

LAMElani: wdym ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)

You: I think you missed the part where I mentioned he's drunk

LAMElani: siiiiiiiiiiiiigh 

LAMElani: ヽ(ー_ー )ノ ok then

You: Pls don't type the word out like that

LAMElani: hope my HOT DATE wont mind me being a little late to call dear old father

LAMElani: oh yeah did i mention i had a HOT DATE cuz i do (๑˘︶˘๑)

You: Fantastic

LAMElani: ok imma go call dad up real quick

LAMElani: dont be surprised if i dont pick up any calls/texts later ill probs be too busy catching hot puss ok BYEEEEE~ o(>ω<)o

Dropping the phone in your hands like it was on fire, you swiftly recoil back on the bed, your face contorted in pure disgust. Panicked, you swipe at your device on the mattress and watch it fall to the floor a few feet away. You fall face-first onto your pillow with a shudder.

You were seriously gonna kill that woman one of these days.

Toying with her blonde locks, Pony walks through the halls at a much slower pace than usual.

It was just after class, and the entirety of 2-B was heading for the dorm buildings to set up their rooms and before heading to lunch afterwards. The walk through the halls was a slow-going process as the majority of U.A. seemed to have the same idea, the spacious hallways overflowing with students all heading in the same direction.

The students of 2-B kept huddled together as they made their way through the fray. Their conversations were drowned out among the lively commotion of the crowd around them, though none seemed to mind much. Pony was especially thankful. The unintentional distraction allowed her and her friend to nearly disappear, the two of them falling behind without anybody really noticing.

"Should we tell them?" The blond asks. Her tone is uncertain as she watches her classmates stroll up ahead, and her eyes flicker from the back of one head to another.

Beside her, Rin looks just as lost. "I... I don't know. Maybe we won't have to? They'll probably find out for themselves eventually, right?"

"But what if they don't? I mean, not to name names or anything but like, some of them aren't exactly detectives!"

"Yeah. Good point."

"And besides," Pony continues, her hands wringing at her hair anxiously, "what if they DO find out but also find out that we found out before they found out? Then they might get mad at us for lying to them! I don't want them to be angry with us, Rin, Kodai literally just started talking to me in full sentences!"

Rin blinks. Right, he was just going to… Skim over that first part for now. He shrugs, trying to sound confident as he says, “It's not technically lying if we don't say anything...?" 

But the excuse sounds lame even to his own ears. 

The flat look his classmate fixes on him is no help. "If we're not telling the truth then it's still lying, Rin."

The boy tries not to deflate too much at being called out.

Pony scoots closer, avoiding collision with another, much larger student whose head looked suspiciously like a Lego block. "I think we should tell them," the blonde states as she comes shoulder-to-shoulder with her friend. "They deserve to know. And plus I’m like, super bad at keeping secrets anyways."

Rin meets the girl's pleading blue eyes head on. He concedes with a nod, ignoring the distant voice whispering doubts in the back of his mind. "Alright, but we’re not telling them today. It's too soon."

"Right. Umm… What about tomorrow?"

"Still too soon."

"The day after?"

"No."

"The day after after?"

Rin shakes his head with a sigh. "You're not getting any warmer, Pony." The boy glances down at the tip of his dress shoes for a moment, silent as he ponders to himself. "We should also think about, uh... You-Know-Who's feelings, too."

Pony perks up at the (not quite) mention of your name. Resisting the urge to tease her classmate, the blonde merely asks, "What do you mean?"

"Well, it doesn't seem like they're aware about the both of us being their... You know. And I'm not sure it's fair to tell the others without at least consulting them about it first. That’d be…”

“Pretty crappy?"

Rin nods wordlessly.

The subject of soulmates had never come up between the three of you in the past, but to be fair, nobody had been in a rush to bring it up (at least not as a group. Pony seemed pretty adamant to talk about it when you weren’t around). Rin was obviously aware of his own reasons for dancing around the subject, but you, on the other hand…

Your reasons were unclear.

With a thoughtful nod, Pony hums as she watches her classmates turn a corner some feet away. She moves to do the same, her shoulder finally parting from the boy walking beside her as she does so. Those blue eyes of hers turn sad as she murmurs, "Gosh, you're totally right. I didn't even think about what they might want… Ugh, I’m a bad friend."

"Hey, no you’re not," Rin assures. He pats his friend's back in an act of comfort. "I hadn't thought about it until now either," the boy admits guiltily.

"...Let's wait a month."

"What?"

Rin nearly trips over his own feet as his classmate suddenly grabs him by the arm and drags him over to the nearest wall, away from the hustle and bustle of oncoming students. The blonde stands before him, her brow frowning in determination. "One month. We wait one month and then tell them."

"Our classmates? Uh, I think we might need a little longer than that."

"No, I mean Bestie! Or You-Know-Who ," the girl gruffs in a crude imitation of the other’s voice. Rin frowns in indignation.

"I don't sound like that."

"You totally do."

"W-Whatever!" Waving away the sight of his classmate's forming smirk, the boy with slitted eyes raises a brow at the other. "Why one month? What are we doing in that time?"

"Getting them warmed up to our classmates! If we can get them to bond with the others, then maybe it'll make it easier when we eventually drop the news!"

"...And if we can't do it in a month?"

"Then we wait another month. And then another one after that if we need to," Pony explains. Her smile is sincere as she gazes into her friend's eyes imploringly. "We'll take as much time as we need, wait however long it takes. No rushing things. I promise."

A small laugh escapes Rin as he shakes his head, the corner of his mouth turning up. "You're being surprisingly smart about this."

"Hey!"

"But alright, we'll wait a month," he agrees. After a moment of thought, he adds, "isn't one month a bit too optimistic, though? I mean, do you seriously think (____)'s name isn't going to be mentioned around our classmates at all for the next few weeks? Them transfering over to U.A. isn't exactly small news..."

Pony purses her lips at that. It was true that your arrival had caused a bit of a stir among the student body (and faculty too, she's sure of it). Though your name hadn't been made public, it would only be a matter of time.

Especially knowing how NOSY certain students could be--- Pony's classmates included.

"I guess we'll just have to hope for the best...?" Pony offered her friend with an unsure smile and a meek shrug.

Rin gave the girl an unimpressed stare. "This isn' another homework assignment we're talking about here, you know."

"HEY!"

Ignoring her indignant look, Rin figures it's his turn to take the blonde by the arm, tugging her along as they continue their way down the hall to catch up with the rest of their classmates. He wonders if their absence has been noticed by now. Hopefully their classmates won't ask too many questions if that’s the case. Rin was pretty good at thinking on the spot, but Pony...

Well, she wasn't exaggerating about being a bad liar.

The two make their way forward, the halls still bustling with students but not nearly as crowded as before. Keeping pace with the boy beside her, Pony ponders aloud, "So like, what do you think their Soul Connection is? Do they have our names on their skin like we do?"

Rin shakes his head. "I don't think so. They would have said something on day one if that were the case."

"Really? You think so?"

Rin remains silent at that. His expression remains the same, even as that voice from before starts to whisper even louder, its voice rising as it comes to the forefront of his mind.

Either you truly were oblivious, or just really good at pretending to be…

(He hopes it's the former.)