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The air was charged with excitement and mirth in the common room of Class 1-A's dorm building. A blend of laughter, excited chatter, and triumphant cheers filled the atmosphere as all forty students from Class 1-A and 1-B celebrated their success in achieving their Provisional Hero Licenses. A dazzling variety of lights danced around the room, reflecting off the jubilant faces of the young heroes-in-training.
In the heart of the common room, Mokami was seated comfortably, observing the festivities around him. Momo was on his right, discussing the results of the licensing exam. Her face was alight with a mix of excitement and pride. On Mokami's left was Hagakure, her recently visible form adding an unfamiliar but welcoming touch to the lively scene. She was recounting some humorous incidents that happened during the exams, her voice filled with bubbly enthusiasm.
"I still can't believe that happened!" Hagakure squealed, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she laughed. "You should have seen their faces!"
Meanwhile, the vivacious Mina was twirling across the open floor with a few other girls, her joyful laughter ringing out above the music. Her energetic dance moves attracted a crowd of admiring onlookers who cheered her on enthusiastically.
A group of boys, including Bakugo and Midoriya, were engaged in an animated conversation, their voices rising and falling with the wave of their discussions. Bakugo's usual scowl was softened with a hint of satisfaction, while Midoriya's face wore a thoughtful smile.
Mokami's gaze moved through the room, eventually landing on Midoriya and Bakugo. In another life, they would have been squaring off on a rooftop, trading blows and barbs in a mixture of anger and fear, each caught in the throes of personal insecurity. They might even have called each other "Sasuke" and "Naruto", oops wrong anime.
In this life, however, the scene was different. Bakugo was standing beside Midoriya, their conversation passionate but civil, as they discussed the finer points of hero strategy. Bakugo's signature scowl was somewhat tempered by a contentment that Mokami had not often seen on his face.
Mokami leaned back, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. This world, his world, was a testament to how the presence of a single person could alter the path of events. And it was the closest thing to proof he had that what he was living was real, and not just an anime or manga.
He sighed lightly, his hand instinctively reaching for Momo. His fingers slipped into hers, their palms pressing together in a familiar, comforting rhythm. Her fingers tightened around his, her warmth seeping into his skin. Momo turned her head to him, her onyx eyes meeting his. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice low but carrying an unmistakable note of concern.
"More than okay, Momo," he said, his voice barely audible over the party's noise. "Just thinking about how different things could have been."
Momo's lips curved into a knowing smile, her gaze never leaving his. "And are you happy with how things are?" she asked, a playful note in her voice.
"Absolutely," Mokami replied, a gentle seriousness to his tone. "I wouldn't trade this for anything else."
Suddenly, a whirl of pink and energy personified burst through the crowd. "Momo, Toru, let's show 'em how it's done!" Mina Ashido's exuberant voice echoed through the room, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. The girls shared a knowing look before they all broke into matching grins. Mokami felt Momo's hand squeeze his once before she released it to join Mina and Toru in the center of the room. He couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through him at the sight of their shared excitement.
At the same time, a firm hand landed on Mokami's shoulder. He turned to see Kirishima, who gave him an enthusiastic grin. "Mokami, dude, it's time for some manly wrist wrestling!"
Mokami returned the grin, nodding in agreement. He followed Kirishima to a quieter corner of the room where a small crowd had already gathered. There was an anticipation in the air, a buzz of excitement that was almost tangible. As he took his place across from Kirishima, he felt a strange sense of calm and excitement intermingling.
The two young men locked hands, each gauging the other's strength. Their friends around them began to cheer, creating a light-hearted atmosphere that was a welcome relief from the tension of their everyday training.
"You ready, Mokami?" Kirishima's voice carried an edge of challenge. His hand was firm and warm in Mokami's grasp. Mokami simply nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips. A murmur of anticipation passed through the crowd.As they locked hands, Kirishima shot Mokami a playful grin. "You ready to lose?"
"Same to you," Mokami responded, a rare grin flickering on his face.
As the match began, it ended just as quickly. Despite Kirishima's strength, Mokami's power and technique won the day with ease.
"Alright, fellas!" Ojiro began, the tail of his breaking through the air with a powerful swish. "Let's talk about something other than training and quirks for once. What do you think about our pro-heroines out there?"
There was a pause, and then Shoji broke the silence. "Are we talking purely about their work or their... aesthetics?" His multiple arms shrugged in an oddly nonchalant fashion.
"Both, I suppose," Iida chimed in, adjusting his glasses. "I mean, they are exceptional in their roles, aren't they? Like Ryukyu, for example. Her dragon quirk is incredible and provides tremendous tactical advantage."
"Yeah, yeah," Kirishima chimed in, waving a hand dismissively. "We all know they're tough as nails and all. But seriously, guys, how about Mt. Lady? She's... well... she's not bad, eh?"
"She is attractive, yes, but personally, I find Mirko more appealing," Ojiro said, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. The group erupted in a chorus of teasing laughter.
"Ah, a man of culture, I see!" Kirishima slapped Ojiro on the back, laughing heartily.
"Speaking of appealing, Midnight Sensei doesn't get enough credit," Tetsutetsu from class 1-B joined the conversation, an impish grin on his face.
The room quieted down as several of the boys gave him stern looks. "She's our teacher, man," Shoji said in a tone that implied this was the end of the discussion.
"Alright, alright, just sayin'," Tetsutetsu raised his hands in surrender, a sheepish grin on his face. "But you gotta except, it is the ultimate male fantasy, right? A teacher?"
"Nuh uh!" Shoji clasped his arms around his chest, his multiple arms seeming to bulk in disapproval.
Tetsutetsu raised an eyebrow, "What is the ultimate male fantasy then?"
The room became quiet again, but this time with anticipation rather than disapproval. Then, in the silence, Tokoyami spoke up, his usual serious demeanor evident in his voice. "Neighbor," he said simply.
"Definitely babysitter," Iida chimed in, his usual straight-laced demeanor breaking into a small grin.
"Yup, babysitter," Ojiro nodded, a teasing grin on his face. The room erupted in another round of laughter, this one lighter than before.
From the side, a small voice uttered, "Old lady in the building." The laughter died down instantly, replaced by a profound silence. Everyone turned to look at Mineta who, until then, hadn't been part of the conversation.
The purple-haired boy squirmed under the disgusted stares from his classmates. He opened his mouth, likely to defend himself or perhaps to correct his previous statement, but the others began to leave, shaking their heads.
"Way to ruin the conversation, Mineta," Sero grumbled, shooting the smaller boy a dirty look. Mineta let out a small groan, his face turning a bright red.
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