Despite all appearances to the contrary, Aizawa Shouta was a firm believer in logic. To the outside world, his lifestyle, career choices, and the manner in which he conducted himself seemed counterproductive, but there was always a solid, rational explanation behind everything he did.
The government salary for pro heroes was livable, but most of a pro hero's income came from the endorsement deals that went hand in hand with the high media exposure they universally received. Aizawa avoided such exposure like the plague because his quirk worked best on the unaware. The ability to erase quirks with a look was powerful, true, but a prepared villain could easily counter him with something as simple as a sheet. After all, what good was money to Aizawa if he were dead?
Most heroes took great care to maintain a professional, neat appearance, with eye-catching costumes that immediately put dastardly villains on the run, and frightened civilians at ease just at the sight of them. With his long, scraggly hair, perpetual five o'clock shadow, and plain, unassuming hero outfit, Aizawa could easily be mistaken for a homeless person at first glance. He inspired no hope in the civilians, nor fear in the villains—who usually laughed at him contemptuously, right up until the moment they realized they were already ensnared by his capture cloth, essentially quirkless, and on the ass end of an ass-beating.
Yes, Aizawa Shouta was a firm believer in logic, and it was this belief that allowed him to act with neither hesitation nor shame as he zipped himself up in his sleeping bag and silently wriggled down the hallway into place behind two of his new students as they conversed in the doorway to his classroom. It was time for his grand entrance.
"If you're here to socialize," he said loudly, "than you should go ahead and leave now." The conversation of the two students in the doorway ground to a halt as they turned to stare at him. "This…" Aizawa pulled out a sports drink and drained it in one gulp, "is the hero course."
'Interesting.' He thought as he studied the reactions of the two students in the doorway—or rather, the reaction of one of the students in the doorway. The student closest to him, a rosy-cheeked girl with chestnut-colored hair, reacted exactly as he predicted—with complete bewilderment. The boy—a plain looking boy with dark, curly hair and a smattering of freckles, merely stared at him placidly, with a casual nonchalance as if he had already seen this many times before.
Nonplussed at the lack of reaction, Aizawa unzipped himself from his sleeping bag and pushed past the two teens, making his way to the front of the classroom. While he waited for the spirited conversations to die down, Aizawa took advantage of the opportunity to size up his next crop of students. His expression was trained in a perfectly neutral position as his tired, yet intense, dark eyes darted from person to person, never resting on a single form for longer that a fraction of a second. Almost as if they could feel his intent gaze upon them, the chattering of the heroes-to-be died off as they gradually became aware of Aizawa's presence until finally, the room was silent.
"It took you lot eight seconds to quiet down." Aizawa remarked in a monotone, once again shifting his gaze from student to student. "Life is short. You are all lacking in rationali…ty." Aizawa blinked. As he stared down his class, something about the boy in the doorway—a small, seemingly insignificant detail—caught his attention.
'Midoriya Izuku.' His brain helpfully supplied. Aizawa stared at Midoriya for nearly five seconds before he realized what seemed so out of place. 'He isn't wearing his tie.'
While Aizawa's appearance, demeanor, and habit of napping during staff meetings led some of his colleagues to the conclusion that he was lazy, nothing could be further from the truth. Aizawa was not lazy; he simply spared his efforts for what he considered important. As soon as the results of the entrance exam were finalized, Aizawa got to work. He spent hours every day leading up to the start of school combing through the school records and social media of each of his new students, getting a handle on each of their personalities and aptitudes so he could perform his role of an educator as efficiently as possible.
'Midoriya Izuku:' Aizawa ran through his mental profile on the boy. 'Though he isn't lacking in social skills, he's a loner who has few, if any friends. From the ages of 4 until about 14, there were reports of bullying due to his quirk being registered as "unknown", though these reports gradually decrease until they stop entirely in his last year of middle school. In his behavioral reports, his teachers all describe him as driven, unusually mature, soft-spoken and unerringly polite. No history of disciplinary issues, no unexcused absences ever. A model citizen and student.'
In comparison, Aizawa glanced over at the only other student in the class to forgo the tie. 'Bakugo Katsuki. A longtime classmate of Midoriya's, and, by all accounts, a natural genius. Already famous for his involvement in the 'Sludge villain' incident a year ago, his powerful quirk, academic smarts and athletic ability make him stand out as one of the top talents of his generation. However…'
Aizawa eyed Bakugo's wrinkled, untucked shirt, unbuttoned blazer and sagging pants. Everything from his ever-present scowl to his sitting posture—complete with his feet propped on his desk—loudly broadcasted his utter disdain for everything and everyone around him. Aizawa dreaded the many, many future migraines he would suffer in his efforts to educate this walking ball of arrogant pride. 'I would have been surprised if he followed the uniform guidelines. This sort of petty defiance fits his model perfectly. But Midoriya…'
Other than the missing tie, every bit of Midoriya's uniform was impeccable. His shirt was tucked in, starched, freshly ironed, and his blazer properly closed. His straight-backed posture and the tranquil half-smile on his freckled face gave off a quiet, but unmistakable aura of complete confidence. His hands were folded neatly behind his back in nearly military fashion as he calmly and patiently watched and waited for Aizawa to introduce himself, clearly recognizing him as an authority figure.
'This doesn't make any sense.' Aizawa concluded. 'He must have some specific reason why he isn't wearing the tie…I'm probably overthinking this.'
"Um…excuse me?" The tentative voice of Ashido Mina—a horned girl with pink skin and hair rang out in the silent classroom. Aizawa's gaze snapped to her face. "Who are you?"
Snapped out of his reverie, Aizawa glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that he had been silently staring at Midoriya for nearly thirty seconds. 'Not good.' He thought, 'I can't afford to waste time like that.'
"I'm Aizawa Shouta, your homeroom teacher." He said blandly. He reached into his sleeping bag and pulled out a shirt with a distinctive design. "Down the hall are the locker rooms for our class. Your locker number corresponds to your assigned desk. You'll have this inside. Put it on then shove off to the main PE grounds. Don't keep me waiting."
Without another word, Aizawa turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving the flabbergasted teens behind. After a few seconds of pregnant silence, the class began muttering amongst itself.
"…What was that all about?" Uraraka asked Midoriya, thoroughly weirded out. "Do you know that guy? He was staring at you for a really long time."
"Never seen him before in my life." Midoriya replied with a shrug. "He probably just recognizes me as the idiot who nearly killed himself in the exam."
"I guess…" Uraraka conceded in a low voice, shivering involuntarily at the memory of Midoriya's broken, unmoving form as he was carted away on a stretcher. "You were in pretty bad shape. How are you feeling, by the way?"
"I'm fine." Midoriya reassured her. "Recovery Girl's treatments fixed me right up."
"That's good," Uraraka smiled, "I was really worr—"
"In any case," a familiar voice boomed from behind the two, making Uraraka jump in surprise at the volume and proximity. He chopped the air in robotic fashion. "Sensei's instructions were clear! Let us make haste to the locker room!"
"Of course," Midoriya demurred, "we were just about to head out. You are…?"
"Ah," the boy adjusted his glasses, "how rude of me. My name is Iida Tenya. I remember you from the exam. That was quite a display you put on with the zero pointer." Iida clenched his fist, "I was moved by your heroism!"
As they began to walk towards the locker rooms as a group, the three continued talking. "I'm Midoriya Izuku, and thanks, I guess…but in retrospect, it wasn't my smartest move."
"I don't know," Uraraka wryly remarked, "I thought it was a pretty good decision. I'm Uraraka Ochako, by the way." She introduced herself belatedly.
"I imagine so." Midoriya smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm not talking about the 'helping you' part. If I could go back and do it again, I would still do it, I'd just go about it in a way that wouldn't leave me injured."
"How so?" Iida asked. "It's hard to imagine anything short of overwhelming force stopping that thing in its tracks."
"Easy. I'd just ask Uraraka to use her quirk on the wreckage to make it weightless, then move it and carry her out of there. No giant robot smashing or catastrophic injuries required."
Both Iida and Uraraka were silent for a moment as they processed this. "Yeah," Uraraka agreed faintly, "that definitely would have been a much better plan." She furrowed her brow. "But how did—I mean how do you know what my quirk is…I mean, was?" She flushed a bit at her difficulty expressing her point. "How would you have known what my quirk was at that time?"
Midoriya gave her an amused look. "You used it on me when we first met, remember? I tripped and you stopped me by making me weightless. I also saw you using it in the exam itself."
Uraraka opened her mouth in an "O" shape. She had completely forgotten about that encounter, the memory of it completely overshadowed by the image of Midoriya wreathed in green lightning, blowing away a multi-story tall robot that was about to crush her. They continued to chat casually until they reached their respective locker rooms.
HEROES NEVER DIE
"All right, now that everyone is here," Aizawa announced in his monotone voice, "we're doing a quirk assessment test." His expression was unreadable as he carefully watched the students' reactions to his abrupt declaration. While the rest of the students either grumbled with annoyance or showed signs of excitement, he once again couldn't help but take note of the complete non-reaction from Midoriya.
"Um, sensei?" Uraraka hesitantly asked, "What about the Orientation Ceremony, or the meeting with the guidance counselor?"
"If you want to become heroes," Aizawa said gravely, "then you have no time for frilly niceties." He gestured at the field in front of them, "Softball pitch. Standing long jump. 50-meter dash. Endurance running. Grip strength test. Sustained side-to-side jumps. Pull-ups. Seated toe-touch. These are all activities you know from middle school, naturally. Physical tests where you were barred from using your quirks—the country still hasn't gotten around to standardizing those sorts of records or keeping track of average performance levels." He shook his head, "Negligence on the part of the M.E.X.T. (Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology), but fortunately, I will be correcting that oversight here and now."
Aizawa scanned the crowd of students, looking for an adequate example, his eyes settled on one student who, despite his best efforts to appear above it all, was almost trembling with excitement in anticipation of the chance to prove himself. "Bakugo."
"Yeah?" Bakugo quickly replied, before letting out a cough. "I mean, what do you want?" He growled.
Aizawa decided to ignore the disrespectful tone…for now. "What was your score for the softball throw in middle school?"
"67 meters." Bakugo smugly replied, swelling up at the impressed mutters coming from the peanut gallery.
As this went on, Midoriya quietly sidled up to a slim girl with dark, asymmetrical bangs and tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me…you're Jirou Kyoka, right?" Surprised, the girl turned and regarded Midoriya suspiciously. "I saw your name on the seating chart." He explained before she could ask.
"Oh…um, yes. I'm Jirou." Jirou answered, wondering what Midoriya wanted with her. "What is it…?"
"Midoriya." Midoriya supplied.
"What is it, Midoriya?"
Aizawa produced a high-tech looking ball seemingly out of thin air and tossed it to Bakugo. "Try using your quirk this time around." He ordered, "As long as you don't leave the circle, anything's fine…oh, and don't hold back."
"I wasn't planning on it." Bakugo said, shooting a dark look over at Midoriya. He grinned ferally. "Oh, and Sensei, you might want to stand behind me." Aizawa raised an eyebrow, but did as Bakugo asked, moving to stand with the other students.
Midoriya pointed at Bakugo. "His power is to make explosions, so you might want to cover your ears…like, now." To further illustrate his point, Midoriya covered his own ears with his hands.
After staring at him in confusion for a brief moment, the meaning of Midoriya's words sunk in, and Jirou's eyes widened. With her extremely sensitive hearing, a nearby explosion would be horribly painful, so she hastily mimicked him, clamping her hands over her ears.
"DIEEEE!" Bakugo screamed, hurling the ball with picture perfect form, further propelling it with an explosive blast so powerful that it buffeted the surrounding area with hot winds strong enough to knock the smaller students off of their feet, rendering everyone nearby temporarily deaf. Everyone that is, except for Midoriya and Jirou.
"What the hell, man?" Kirishima Eijiro—a boy with spiky red hair and shark-like teeth complained as he cleaned out his ringing ears. "Warn us before you do something like that!"
"Shut up, small fry!" Bakugo growled through clenched teeth, biting back a hiss of pain as he rubbed his strained shoulder—he had gone far beyond the safety threshold of his quirk in order to prove his point. "A king doesn't concern himself with the feelings of two-bit extras!"
'Fuck this hurts!' Bakugo ignored the outraged complaints of his new classmates as he glared at Midoriya, who calmly returned his gaze with that serene expression that never failed to piss him off. 'Beat that shit, Deku! It doesn't matter what your quirk is, I'm still better!'
After taking a moment to let everyone's hearing return, Aizawa continued the lesson. "Before anything else," he said, "one must know what they are capable of…" he displayed the device to the class, showing a reading of over 900 meters, "this is a rational metric that will form the basis of your 'Hero Foundation'."
Aizawa glanced at Bakugo, who was rotating his arm with a pained expression. "That being said…while I expect you to do your best, please keep within the limits of safety." Aizawa leveled an especially heavy gaze at Midoriya—who had the good grace to look away sheepishly as he said this.
The class had a variety of reactions to these developments, but it was one comment in particular coming from Ashido that set Aizawa off. "AWESOME!" She squealed, practically jumping up and down in delight. "THAT LOOKS SO FUN!"
"It looks fun…you say." Aizawa's voice was low—almost a whisper—but the sense of anger and doom coming from the normally stoic and monotone adult shut every one of the chattering students up quick. "So you were planning on spending your three years here having a laugh, huh? What happened to becoming heroes? You think that this profession is some kind of joke?"
He glared at each and every one of the dead silent students, meeting their eyes and forcing them to gaze at the ground in the face of his sudden, unexpected fury, only coming to a stop when his eyes met with Midoriya's. Midoriya's unflinching gaze didn't surprise Aizawa—that much was expected from the boy by now—no; it was the hauntingly familiar sense of conviction that shone in his emerald eyes that gave him pause. Aizawa would recognize it anywhere—he saw it every time he looked in the mirror. It was the kind of conviction that could only be acquired through hard-earned experience. By having someone die in your arms and knowing that you could have saved them if you had only done a little bit more. If you were just a little bit faster, a little bit smarter, if you had only trained a little bit harder, they'd still be alive.
'Midoriya again…what the hell is this kid's deal?' He thought, filing the observation into his mental file titled: Things to Investigate Later. For now, he had a point to make. "Listen up!" He barked, "This exercise has a new rule: the student who ranks last in total points will be judged 'hopeless' and instantly expelled."
The response to this new wrinkle in the exercise was as swift as it was noisy. However, the outraged and panic-stricken shouts of his students left fell upon deaf ears and he grinned menacingly. "You all understand this school's reputation for freedom on campus…well, that "freedom" goes for us teachers too, which means that we get to dispense of the students as we see fit. Welcome to the Department of Heroics!"
"It's the first day of school and you're saying that you'll kick one of us out based on your whim!" Uraraka yelled, her normally rosy cheeks were even redder from the a mixture of righteous anger and fear, "That's just too unreasonable!"
"It's outrageous! It's unfair!" The other students voiced their agreement with her assessment of the situation.
Just as Aizawa opened his mouth to shut down his students' complaints, the sound of bitter laughter cut through the grumbles of the crowd. One by one, the gathered students all went silent and directed their gaze towards its source. "No matter how many times I hear it, it somehow never gets old." Midoriya muttered under his breath. As he met the curious gazes of his classmates, his mouth was twisted up into something resembling a smile and his eyes began to glow with an eerie green light.
"Unfair?" He spat the word as if it were a particularly vile curse and his voice cracked with tightly reined emotion. "Life isn't reasonable or fair. Bad things happen to good people, good things happen to bad people. Natural disasters, villain attacks, honest-to-goodness freak accidents happen every day. Right this very second, someone, somewhere in the world is about to die for no other reason than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Heroes have to face that unfairness every day, head on. If you give up over a little speed bump like this, you don't deserve to be a hero. Even if I'm expelled, I'm still becoming a hero." He shook his head, "Even if I'm not a Yuuei student, my dream isn't over. Nothing is over until I'm dead."
As the class stood in silence, first from shock at the passionate speech from the unassuming, soft-spoken boy, then in thoughtful contemplation of his point. Aizawa decided to reassert control of the situation, as well as chime in with an additional point of his own now that his thunder had been stolen.
"Well said." Aizawa remarked in a tone so dry it was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic. "Believe it or not, I'm doing you a kindness. Uraraka!"
Uraraka jumped at Aizawa's sudden call out. "Y-yes?" She stammered.
"You asked about your orientation and guidance meeting? Since I'm feeling generous, I'll give you both right now. Less than half of those who graduate from hero programs last even five years in this profession. Of that remaining half, only a third make it ten. The drop-off only gets more severe from there. Whether it be accumulated injuries, stress, or plain bad luck, this job will catch up to you sooner or later, and when that happens, you had better have saved your money wisely, because the pension sucks."
Aizawa paused a moment to let his words sink in. "Now, let's begin."
HEROES NEVER DIE
The mood in the boy's locker room was a somber one as they showered and changed in near silence. They had started the day with 14 in their ranks, and true to his word, Aizawa had mercilessly sent the last ranking student in the class—a small boy with odd purple hair—packing.
"Man, poor Mineta," Kaminari—a yellow-haired boy with a dark streak in it said, referring to the expelled student, "talk about tough breaks."
Ever the bastion of empathy, Bakugo scoffed. "I say good riddance. If that loser couldn't beat a girl whose only power is being see-through in an athletic competition while being allowed to use his quirk, he doesn't fucking belong here."
"Damn, dude." Kaminari winced. He didn't get to know Mineta very well, but they'd bonded somewhat. "I mean, you're not wrong, but you don't have to be such a dick about it."
"Fuck him!" Bakugo growled, "That shitty little rat was a creepy fuck, anyways. I saw him literally drooling while he was looking at Ponytail-girl. Who the fuck even does that? If he stuck around, he'd infect all of us with his loser stink."
Bakugo scowled. 'Fucking Ponytail bitch…can't believe she actually beat me. Second fucking place…first place loser, more like. I need to do better. I need to be better. No fucking excuses.'
Oblivious to the source of Bakugo's brooding, the rest of the boys exchanged a meaningful look at that point. In the interest of first day harmony, they had been willing to give Mineta a chance, but several of them had picked up on his rather toxic, creepy personality quickly. Barring some unforeseen crisis making fire-forged friends of them, everything from Mineta's annoying lisp, constant references to his 'sticky balls', loud, lewd jokes and his blatant leering at the girls marked him as someone to avoid for the sake of their own reputations. They didn't want to say it, but many were relieved that he was gone beyond the obvious reason of it simply not being them who got the boot.
"How's your shoulder, Kacchan?" Midoriya asked. "You hurt it during the softball throw, right?"
"None of your fucking business Deku!" Bakugo snapped. "Worry about your own damn self, you half-assed fucktard! Giving that fucking try hard speech and sleepwalking through the goddamn tests." He spat into a nearby drain. "Fucking makes me sick."
"I did my best on those tests, Kacchan." Midoriya calmly replied.
"The fuck you did!" Bakugo shouted, "You don't just beat me in the exam and then get sixth goddamn place! Give me a fucking break! I heard all about how you took down that zero-point fucker! You were holding back!"
"Of course I did." Midoriya said slowly, as if he were talking to an idiot. "Doing that broke every bone in my body and put me in a coma for nearly a week. Why on earth would I do that to myself again?"
A vein throbbed in Bakugo's forehead. "Obviously you don't go that hard, you fucking smartass! Just enough that it hurts! You aren't even sweaty!"
"Of course I'm not sweaty. I just showered."
"Mother fu--you know what I mean, shit-for-brains!"
The rest of the boys—all of whom had completely finished getting cleaned up and changed while this exchange was going on, watched with a sense of morbid curiosity.
Sero Hanta, a flat-faced boy with oddly shaped elbows leaned over and whispered to the person next to him, "I can't tell if they get along really well or hate each other's guts."
"You know," the person in question, a blond boy with a large, powerful tail named Ojiro Mashirao replied, "I think it might be a little bit of both."
"You think that they're…you know…" Kaminari made a hole with his forefinger and thumb and stuck his other forefinger through it. The locker room went silent. "What?" Kaminari asked as the boys around him suddenly made themselves scarce. "Guys?" A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and when he turned to see whom the owner of the hand was, Kaminari let out a high-pitched shriek at the sight of Bakugo.
As he loomed over Kaminari, Bakugo's smile was calm, playful, and utterly terrifying. Smoke began to rise from between the fingers of the hand gripping Kaminari's shoulder like the jaws of death. "Please," Bakugo purred, "by all means…continue. I'd love to hear your opinion of my relationship with Deku, Cadavernari."
"K-K-Kaminari." Kaminari stammered.
"Hmm?" Bakugo's smile widened, "What's that?"
"M-M-My name's Kaminari." Kaminari desperately looked around for a savior, but everyone—even Midoriya—had made themselves scarce in the face of Bakugo's tranquil fury.
"No." Bakugo said cheerily, "It isn't."
For the next five minutes, the boys stood outside of the locker room door, listening in horrified fascination as Kaminari shrieked and pleaded for forgiveness.
"Please, no more!"
"Shut up and take it like a man!"
"That isn't supposed to bend that way!"
"It will when I'm done with you!"
Iida cleared his throat awkwardly. "Should…we…help him?"
As if by magic, Bakugo's head popped out of the doorway the moment the words left Iida's lips. "Oh go ahead." He said casually, "Pool's open, water's fine." He stared at Iida with murder in his eyes and a pleasant smile on his face—his behavior completely at odds with the foul, abrasive personality they'd seen from him thus far and all the more terrifying for it. "No? Just going to stand there like a bunch of pissants?" He paused for a second. "Thought so." He retreated back into the locker room. "Now, where were we?"
"Please no!"
"Oh now I remember!"
The boys all looked to Midoriya. "Okay…" Kirishima said after a moment. "After today, I think we all knew that Bakugo is an…intense guy, but what the HELL?"
"Did you see his head when Kaminari made that crack?" Rikido Sato, a large, solidly built boy with fish-like lips said with a haunted look in his eyes. "I swear it turned a full 180 degrees."
"On this day, we have gazed into the abyss and witnessed the true face of evil." Tokoyami Fumikage, a boy with a crow's head said in a grave tone.
"He pushed the 'Deku Button'." Midoriya said matter-of-factly before giving a shake of his head. "He shouldn'ta did that."
At that moment, the boys of class 1-A all resolved to never joke about the nature of Bakugo and Midoriya's relationship ever again.
HEROES NEVER DIE
(Meanwhile, in the girl's locker room)
"Okay ladies." Ashido said gravely, "It's time to discuss a matter of the utmost importance…initial impressions: which of the boys are the best?"
Caught up in the flow of Ashido's serious tone, the rest of the girls let out a groan at the frivolous topic.
"Really, Ashido?" Yaoyorozu Momo—a gorgeous teen with the figure of a gravure model, AKA 'Ponytail Girl'—said with an exasperated sigh, "We just watched someone get expelled on the first day of school because the teacher wanted to make a point about how deadly serious all of this is…and you're talking about boys?"
"YES!" Ashido shot back as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Aizawa-sensei also said that stress was one of the reasons that heroes drop out of the game…well, this is my way of relieving stress! Humor me, alright?"
"Here's an initial impression for you." Jirou said with a smirk, "That Mineta kid being the one who was expelled is proof that Midoriya was wrong. There is fairness in the universe after all." She shuddered, unlike the other girls in the class; her sensitive hearing meant that she had heard every single word that came out of his mouth. Every…single…word. There wasn't enough hot water and soap in the world to make her feel clean after that.
"Harsh." Ashido said, "But I like the honesty. Let's keep this train rolling! Yaomomo, your thoughts!"
Yaoyorozu blinked at the impromptu nickname. "That is a bit harsh, but I have to admit, I caught him…staring…multiple times. I certainly wouldn't have looked forward to dealing with that for the rest of my time here…especially considering my costume's design." She didn't mention the drooling. She figured that it had to be a figment of her imagination. 'There's no way he literally drooled over me,' she thought, 'who even does that?'
"Caught him?" Asui Tsuyu, a petite, frog-like girl croaked. "That implies that he was even trying to hide it. He was as subtle as a brick to the head, ribbit."
"Enough of this!" Ashido declared imperiously, "This talk of ex-classmates bores me. I want to hear about someone else! Uraraka!" She declared, pointing a pink digit at the rosy-cheeked girl, making her squeak with surprise. "You were hanging around with that Midoriya Deku kid a lot today, right? Anything going on there, hmmm?"
"Um…" Uraraka said, "I think it's Izuku actually."
"Well, whatever his name is, he's on my good list, that's for sure." Jirou chimed in. "I don't know how he knew my hearing was sensitive, but he warned me about that Bakugo guy's quirk beforehand and saved me a lot of pain."
"Now that you mention it," a voice coming from what appeared to be an empty space in the locker room said, "when that Mineta kid accidentally" Hagakure Toru's voice dripped with sarcasm at the word, "bounced off of one of his ball things at a bad angle and was about to land face first in my chest, Midoriya appeared out of nowhere and snatched him out of the air." The transparent girl giggled, "You should have seen the little creep's face…he looked like he was about to cry blood while he thanked Midoriya for 'saving' him."
The rest of the girls shared a laugh at this. Mina looked impressed. "A regular good Samaritan ain't he?" She remarked. "But I'm still waiting on your answer, Uraraka."
"I mean, there's not much to say…" Uraraka said with a smile, "he seems like a sweet guy and all, but I barely know him. He got hurt pretty bad helping me out of a jam during the entrance exams, so I guess I feel like I owe him…or something. He seems like he'll be a really good friend."
Ashido flashed a teasing grin. "Do you think he's cuuuuuuute?"
"Not really." Uraraka instantly replied with a bright, earnest smile. "He's kinda plain-looking, honestly." All of the girls winced in sympathy for Midoriya.
"That was merciless, Ochako." Asui croaked, "You didn't even think about it for a second."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"A-Anyways," Ashido said, moving on for the sake of the absent Midoriya. "Any other thoughts?"
"How about we finish getting dressed and get back to class?" Yaoyorozu suggested.
"Hush, you!" Ashido rebuked the sensible girl with a swish of her hand. "Any other, not boring thoughts? The chairwoman is willing to receive all motions!" Yaoyorozu opened her mouth only to be cut off by another swish of Ashido's hand. "Except your motions! You have been hushed! Accept thine judgment!"
"Thy judgment." Yaoyorozu corrected.
"What part of hushed do you not understand?" Ashido exclaimed. Yaoyorozu just shook her head and tried not to laugh at the over-the-top antics of the lively girl. She didn't want to encourage her.
"I would like to present a motion to the honorable chairwoman!" Hagakure said with a giggle, playing along with Ashido and thoroughly enjoying herself.
"The chair recognizes." Ashido replied in an exaggerated haughty tone. "Please proceed."
"I propose that we take a moment to discuss how unreasonably hot Todoroki is!" Hagakure declared.
"All in favor?" Ashido asked the group with a raised hand.
"Aye!" Uraraka laughed.
"Aye." Asui croaked.
"…Aye." Jirou said with a blush.
"Aye!" Hagakure cheered.
"All opposed?"
"Nay." Yaoyorozu said.
"The aye's have it. Motion proceeds."
Yaoyorozu sighed, and then smiled and leaned in. 'Oh well, if we're doing this, I might as well enjoy myself.'
AN: I was in a silly mood when I wrote the last parts of this chapter, as I'm sure you can tell, but I figure that a bit of levity couldn't hurt. As always, I love to read your comments and reviews. You all are the reason I keep writing. Internet cookie to anyone who can guess why Midoriya doesn't wear a tie. Plus Ultra!