My heroic side demanded that I intervene and save the damsel in distress named Momo Yaoyorozu, while my calculating and manipulative side suggested leaving everything as it was, because the situation would resolve itself in a couple of seconds anyway.
Besides, this scene carried a clear lesson that I wanted to highlight for my new classmates — and the sooner, the better.
Momo's lip quivered.
I left everything as it was.
In the end... if I've already broken the canon this much... and stepped all over those butterflies...
You know what? Screw the butterflies.
Why not keep breaking the canon further?
Finally, Toga opened her mouth and said in clear, clipped phrases:
"I. Want. To. Sit. Here."
Narrowing my eyes, I watched… Momo.
She could have responded. For instance, she could have said that we didn't choose our seats, the Academy did. Or she could have objected, claiming it was her seat since she had occupied it first. She could have de-escalated the conflict by pointing out that the lesson was about to start and they could switch seats later. The pretty brunette could have at least appealed to the class's sense of fairness, since it was clear that a hero course should attract defenders of morality and fighters for everything good.
She could have at least tried…
Or one of us, the heroes, could have saved her…
But no, none of that happened — the girl gathered her bag, her neatly arranged notebooks and pens with relief, and practically sprinted to the empty desk next to Yui in the front row, where Himiko was apparently supposed to sit. She avoided making eye contact with anyone, but the class undoubtedly sympathized with her, and someone even muttered something reassuring. In short, I don't think this will significantly affect the cohesion of the class or Momo's role in the hierarchy.
But if it does… maybe it'll be for the best.
I never forgot that ahead of us… less than a year from now… is a war. Yes, I will definitely become a hero now, yes, I've achieved a lot… but all of it will be meaningless if we lose in the future. Just because someone might turn out to be the weakest link, lacking the courage or resolve. Even just to stand up for themselves.
Meanwhile, Kirishima, who had been ready to be the hero and save Yaoyorozu, slumped back into his chair, uncertain of how to act heroically in this situation. He simply didn't react fast enough.
Yes, thinking quickly is a skill too. Well, no worries… I'll teach you all that soon enough.
I turned back and looked seriously, carefully into Toga Himiko's yellow eyes.
Well, hello, future.
"Hi."
She smiled sweetly, innocently, and without a trace of the predatory grin she had worn before. A masterful actress.
"Hi."
I wasn't allowed to continue the conversation.
Annoyed, I looked up. Let me study her!
Another champion of justice arrived, of course...
Iida Tenya, having left Bakugo, rolled up on his skates to deliver justice. Raising his arm in a strange, almost fascist salute, he tried to lecture Toga, who glared at him:
"You've taken a seat that was already occupied by another classmate! This action was not at all heroic! After all, we are all equals here! I insist, no, I demand that you apologize to her immediately and return her seat!"
Toga only bared her teeth in response.
A dark anger began to rise in me, the same anger Tenya had stirred during the exam. Ah, Tenya, what a magnificent hero you are! You intervene as soon as the conflict is resolved. I'm amazed by your selflessness.
Not wanting to hear more of his slogans, I stood up, finding myself nose to nose with him.
Back off, Mr. Student Council! I'M the one who's going to mess with her head, not you! SHE'S MINE!
I stretched out my hand and snapped my fingers sharply in front of his face, adding a pinch of my quirk. The loud clap cut off the guy's speech, tousled his hair, and threw him off balance. I took the initiative.
"Listen… Tenya," I straightened up, surprised to find that I was a couple of centimeters taller than him. "I'm not defending our new classmate's actions; I'm sure she should feel… somewhat ashamed of them, and I also expect that she'll apologize for her behavior in the future, as conflicts will be unnecessary in our group."
At this point, I lowered my gaze and looked into the predatory blonde's eyes once more, trying to convey with just a look that if she didn't listen and started undermining my authority and the class's unity on the first day... I'd bury her in the nearest park.
"I object! This is outrageous and absolutely unacceptable..."
I quickly shifted my gaze back to the almost-class president. No, buddy, you're not becoming class president in my class, I can promise you that:
"However, we are all," I gestured broadly to our new and old classmates, "now students at the best hero academy in the country. Do you know what heroes do, Tenya? They — that is, future us — fight criminals every day, criminals who, trust me, will be far scarier and more intimidating than a former schoolgirl," I gestured toward Toga, though in my mind, I was thinking, "Yeah, right." "So, each of us must be able to take a hit and be prepared for psychological pressure sessions."
Honestly, at that moment, I assumed Aizawa would just come in and put everyone back in their assigned seats, and my speech wouldn't have long-term consequences.
Tenya choked on his words and froze, hand still raised. Judging by the wide eyes behind his glasses, he hadn't considered this aspect of our lives.
Looking around at the other classmates, I had to admit that nobody else had thought of it either, except perhaps Yui. Even the grumpy Bakugo didn't seem to realize that his "contributions" to Midoriya's psychological endurance were serving this purpose. If the guy, whom Bakugo had been outright bullying for ten years, hadn't broken and still chose to pursue heroism, then he was indeed a strong individual.
Damn. He's still not here.
Anyway, I wasn't finished. I'm just getting started!
"I, sitting right here, gave our classmate Momo," ah, it feels so good without honorifics! "a chance to block this 'hit' on her own. Yes, maybe it was hypocritical and overly arrogant of me," I nodded toward the surprised brunette, "so I apologize for my actions, or rather, my inaction. But I sincerely thought I was doing the right thing."
Now it's your turn to be buried, hypocrite.
I jabbed a finger into his chest, seeing his eyes widen in shock behind his glasses.
"But what were you thinking, Tenya? You not only failed to intervene at the moment of the conflict, when it could have helped Momo gain the resolve to say no. As Kirishima wanted to do," yes, you, man, I saw it all, I can praise as well as scold, "who was about to intervene but just didn't make it in time. No. You consciously came in late, after Momo had already chosen her course of action, and then you tried to solve her problem for her. You didn't let her handle it herself, and therefore grow stronger. You wanted to win someone else's battle, a battle that you decided you could win."
I poked him in the chest again. Not a balloon, won't pop.
"So, say you'd won, made them switch back. How would that have helped Momo become stronger? And how would that have helped her," I nodded toward Toga, who was watching the scene with amusement, "integrate into the group? How would it have helped anyone, besides you, huh?"
As a final note, I sat back down and added sarcastically in a lower voice:
"You already ran past when a helping hand was needed."
Tenya, though he seemed like a sturdy guy, was trembling as much as Momo had been. Silently, nearly tripping, he made his way to his desk and sat down quietly.
Oops.
Seems like I overdid it.
The classroom was shrouded in a grim, tense atmosphere. I noticed Yui shaking her head in disapproval before resting her forehead on Setsuna's shoulder.
Alright. In for a penny, in for a pound.
If I wanted to break the canon, I might as well go all in…
***
The remaining couple of minutes before the bell dragged on slowly, like molasses (though I found out later that there was no bell here at all). I didn't want to turn back to look at Toga, even though I could feel her eyes on me. No, it wasn't time to engage in a conversation with her yet—otherwise, my classmates might think I knew her and was covering for her, which would ruin the reputation I'd built… No. I had more important things to do.
I kept glancing nervously at the door. Where. Is. My. Protagonist?!
The mark on Midoriya had vanished over the past month... I didn't even know if he was close or far...
And then, the massive door slid open with a soft, almost silent sound, though in the tense atmosphere, it sounded like a clap of thunder, and everyone turned to stare at the green-haired boy, whose panicked gaze darted around from the sudden concentrated attention… until it landed on me, and he immediately relaxed.
"Hey, Midoriya!" I waved cheerfully. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Tenya stand up, as if to approach Izuku, but… he didn't follow through.
Midoriya rushed toward me, though he paled slightly when he saw Katsuki sitting nearby—the same Katsuki who, as a reminder, had bullied him for ten years. Hero, my ass.
Izuku, to his credit, greeted me happily and even mustered the courage to wave at the girls—Setsuna and Yui. Both waved back. Honestly, Yui isn't the kind of person you should wave at so eagerly—her frosty demeanor can turn down guys like a strong repellent. However, Setsuna's cheerfulness balanced the situation out.
Midoriya plopped down onto the chair with a loud thud and waved at someone standing hesitantly at the door, clearly unsure about the atmosphere in the classroom. Oh, he was waving to the gravity girl who had almost caught up with him, the twentieth member of our class. I had little doubt she'd be praising him and making him blush soon, but I guess that would have to wait until next time. And yes, she introduced herself as Ochako Uraraka, so I was right—she had earned 45 rescue points for saving Izuku's skin.
Thankfully, the class atmosphere was starting to lighten up—here and there, whispers began to break out: "So that's the guy!" and "His jump was even cooler than Shoda's!" Midoriya blushed like a poppy in full bloom at those comments, and I just smiled.
I didn't mind. It mattered more to him.
That being said, no one was really coming up to introduce themselves to us—well, to Midoriya, to be exact. Maybe he couldn't quite assert himself properly, or maybe the walls formed by Bakugo and Toga were intimidating people… or maybe it was me. I hope it wasn't me; I still had to work with them.
Anyway, as it turned out, my assigned seat was right behind Midoriya's broad back. That was fortunate.
At this point, Midoriya glanced over my shoulder and paled, swallowing loudly. Yeah, buddy, those are the neighbors we've got. Probably not the best setup. I remembered that Toga had a soft spot for him in the canon. I wonder if that's my responsibility now?
And then it turned out that Izuku lived with his mother in this very city—less than an hour's walk away. And that...
That made me fume a little, honestly. People here were waiting for him, practically jumping out of their skins from anxiety, and he…
"But I'm… not late..." the boy mumbled under my gaze. Clearly, being surrounded by nothing but unfriendly monsters wasn't something he was looking forward to.
Yeah, I might've snapped a bit… Lately, I've been feeling like I'm coming unhinged from the constant tension. Not good. I need to get a grip on this; self-control is more important now than ever...
I lowered my voice:
"Yeah, you're not late. Sorry if I came off as harsh. But you cut it really close. And judging by your labored breathing and the drops of sweat on your forehead"—Midoriya jerked at this, clearly tempted to check, verify, investigate, or even jot down this revelation—"it's obvious you were running through the halls, trying to find the right door in this big building."
The boy paled a bit more. Bullseye. Well done, Niren, have a cookie.
Friendship is friendship, camaraderie is camaraderie, but Izuku Midoriya is too valuable an asset, and I need to have as much influence over his decisions as possible. In the end, it might just save his life... or mine. So I started to talk:
"The thing is, for you and me… actually, for all of us"—I nodded toward our new classmates, not forgetting to first highlight "you and me"—"there's a whole new level of expectation now, you understand? Yesterday, we were just some clueless high schoolers. Today, every one of us is a new pillar of society. A new role model, a new idol. Potentially… the new Symbol of Peace."
Boom. Critical hit. Izuku's eyes practically turned into squares, and fearing I might've gone overboard (again), I quickly clarified:
"I'm not saying we have to be perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, and that's okay. Especially since you didn't make any mistakes this time. But I think your approach should be different now. Like mine. Childhood is behind us, and it's time to get serious, don't you think? For example… my personal approach to life is to give it my all, to give my everything. You, judging by how you took down that giant robot, do the same. Am I right?"
Izuku hesitated but then nodded, staring intently at his right hand.
Checking the clock on the classroom wall with a bit of confusion—it was showing the correct time, the same as my dorm clock, which meant that the class had technically started five minutes ago—I continued:
"However, it's impossible to be prepared for every situation or opponent… so we need to be as ready as possible for any situation. You can give it your all not just in the crucial moment when something happens but also before it—by being well-prepared. Take this as an example: you could've gotten to U.A. early… say, half an hour before, and that would've given you plenty of time to find the right place, not cut it close, and at the same time"—I glanced over at Ochako and the other girls and then winked at the ever-blushing evergreen boy, easing the tension—"you could've spent that time having some fun."
Izuku nodded again, deep in thought.
It's nice to talk to someone who's not an idiot. I talk, he listens...
And more importantly, he gets it. Although these are fairly obvious things for any adult, well... that's the point—they're adults.
A few seconds later, our homeroom teacher finally entered… or rather, crawled into the classroom—and my monologue abruptly ended.