Chapter Text
“You’re saying there was an entire separate set of exams for people who got in through recommendations?”
According to what he was getting from Loudmouth, there was a group of students who were better than everyone else, considered pure, true hero material over everyone else, and everyone fucking knew it. They knew it, they acknowledged it, they accepted it, and they patted them on the fucking backs and said, You don’t need to apply with those loser plebs. Here, express access for you.
Fuck.
“Oi, Izuku, did you know about this?”
Izuku, who was chatting with Fifth Place, turned to him. “I did.”
“How the hell didn’t you get a recommendation?”
Loudmouth cleared his throat. “It takes a recommendation from either a Pro-Hero or other interested parties! Once they see that a Pro-Hero Aspirant is PASSIONATE! A Pro-Hero Aspirant is NOBLE! A Pro-Hero Aspirant is—”
“Loud," Fifth Place finally bit out, saying what everyone was thinking. “Please use your inside voice.”
Thorn-girl nodded her head, and Invisi-Girl chimed in. “J-Just a little… haha…”
Inasa blinked, then he tilted his head. “But friends, this is my INSIDE VOICE!”
Motherfucker, I’m going to go deaf in my thirties because of you!
The doors to the classroom swung open for what felt like the bloody umpteenth time that morning. Katsuku was starting to feel like this was some sort of game show, where the game was figuring out if the next fucker that walked through the doors was as crazy as the prior one that came.
At first glance, seeing it was a girl, he shot a glance at Izuku, but seeing Izuku didn’t recognize her, he let out a sigh of fucking relief, and probably wasn’t the only one.
Doing a double-take of the girl, his initial first impression was that he was not going to like this bitch. She was stupidly pretty, which was already a huge minus in his book. She wore the standard UA Academy uniform, but Katsuki could tell at first glance that it was made differently. One that made everyone else's uniform look like cheap knockoffs in comparison. Her black hair was styled immaculately, her nails were long, dark, and stylized, she had big fat fucking knockers, wore long earrings, and had what he could only describe as a resting bitch-face atop big-fat fucking knockers.
She wore her skirt far shorter than everyone else, and he almost thought she was doing that stupid thing girls did where they rolled it up under their shirts, but no, it was just that short. She had modified it to show as much skin as bloody possible. The sleeves of the jacket were shorter and stylized than what should have been allowed. She wore minor dark make-up with a 'natural' look and put on accompanying black lipstick.
Her gaze swept across the room as soon as she entered, examining the class, before letting out a sigh. “This is all that UA could afford? I heard this institution was state-of-the-art."
Loudmouth waved his hand at the newcomer. “Subarashi! Yaoyorozu-hime, you made it!"
Badonga-dongs regarded Loudmouth with crossed arms. “Yoarashi. As deafening as ever, I see."
"Heroes have to be boisterous!" Loudmouth declared, slamming his hand on his chest. “How else will the world know we're heroes, if we don't make ourselves stand out? If our voices are not heard, LOUD AND CLEAR!"
Tits-for-face rolled her eyes. “It'll be difficult for anyone to hear you once you render them deaf, Yoarashi. Have you already forgotten how the proctors nearly disqualified you?"
Loudmouth cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “That was… an unfortunate incident.”
Sparkplug was on the scene, moonwalking from his seat like a budget Casanova, all the way to boob-city. He spun around, aiming at her with finger guns and a smirk.
“The name's Kaminari Denki, and you're—"
“Not interested."
Sparkplug’s smile vanished for a brief second before quickly returning. “As the most Electrifying Man in Hero Entertainment… I thought I was the only one who shocks."
Breast-implant’s lips moved slowly. “Cute."
“Wait, wait, I've got it," Sparkplug cleared his throat. “Do you have a taser in your heart? Because babe, you’re stunning me."
“I do, in fact, have one, Kaminari-san. Thank you.”
“Er— come again?”
The crazy broad started unbuttoning the top portion of her uniform, much to Katsuki’s complete disbelief, and probably the collective ‘what the fuck’ in the entire classroom.
"W-w-what are you doing?" Thorn-hair was the first to voice her concern, the pitch of her voice piercing the fucking ceiling. “I-indecent! S-shameless!”
She answered as though it were the most normal thing in the world to unbutton the top of her shirt before, and expose more than just her cleavage. “What do you see, Kaminari-san?"
“A great set of breasts—"
“Besides that.”
Sparkplug blinked. “Oh. Cool, cool, cool! There's actually a taser…!"
A genuine, godforsaken taser emerged from the girl's chest, which she flipped in the air and held out. She pressed the button, and a shocking ‘BZZZZT’ of electricity rang out through the entire classroom. Slowly, she grabbed Kaminari’s hand and placed the taser into it. “There you go, Electrifying Man."
Sparkplug stared at the taser, holding it as though he'd received the holy grail. “Whoa." He turned towards her with sparkling eyes. “I think I’m in love."
Did her tits just get smaller? Katsuki’s eyes, keen as they were, were always looking out for the tiniest discrepancies, and that was the only reason, the only fucking reason, he noticed that badonga-dongs had her tits less inflated after she pulled out a fucking taser from her chest. It was a small, probably negligible size difference, and Katsuki was certain anyone with a fucking brain could have seen the difference.
The fuck is that? A quirk that summons stuff from breasts…?
No, that was something out of some B-list fucking harem anime shit.
Probably from fat. Body-fat. Makes sense. Also explains why balloon-tits needs balloon-tits… the more fat she has, the more stuff she can summon…?
Then does the max limit of the shit she can summon depend on how much fat she has? Does she keep the stuff she summons somewhere, and can she call them at any time? What sort of bullshit power…
Katsuki ran his theories, and he glanced to the side, where he saw Izuku doing the exact same thing he was doing. Analyzing every fucking iota of boob-town as if she were a mouse strapped to a table.
…Fuck, I’m starting to mimic Izuku’s stupid habit.
“I'm Yaoyorozu Momo." She flicked her hand into her hair. “Please try your hardest to entertain me."
Bitch, what?
“Oi, resting bitch face," Katsuki called. “We look like a comedy act to you? You see any of us wearing clown make-up?”
“Not quite yet,” she chuckled. “You would look great in it, though.”
“And you’d look great with my fist between your—”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Sparkplug came to his side. “Come on, man, make peace, not war…” Sparkplug rubbed the side of his face with the taser. “Especially with the girl who can summon sweet, sweet toys.”
“She just asked us to entertain her. The hell does she think she is?"
"Yaoyorozu Momo," She repeated, crossing her arms underneath her chest with a smile. “Were you not listening? Should I be worried about a constant need to repeat myself?" She placed her hand on her chin. “I was told Class 1-A would be made up of geniuses. Told that this would be the classroom of the ‘elite.’ Was I deceived?"
“We're not here to entertain you, harlot," Thorn-girl snapped, shooting her dirty looks. “We're here to learn how to be heroes."
“The difference being?" Slightly-less balloon-tits rounded on Thorn-girl. “What is a hero, if not a person whose struggles and triumphs can have you rising, screaming to support them? Endeavor is statistically the greater hero with more disasters resolved and more villains captured. Yet All Might eclipses him. Why?"
Izuku slowly said, “He inspires people."
“Inspires, stimulates, motivates, the word choice doesn't matter. All Might entertains. He is entertaining. Watching him is never dull," She turned to Izuku. “Isn’t that what makes him such a compelling hero? Does your heart not feel like bursting in your chest when you hear him stand, laugh, and say, I am here?"
Katsuki hated the fact that the bitch had a point. I AM HERE was a line so fucking raw, just Izuku mimicking it with that stupid ventriloquism trick of his was enough to get the bad guys pissing their pants in fear.
That’s still not the same as fucking entertaining people, and sure as hell isn’t the same as asking us to entertain you.
“SU-BA-RA-SHI!” Loudmouth slammed his chest with his fist. He was almost weeping with tears. “Indeed, a hero should be passionate. They should have a cry that people rally under. Mine, shall be… SUBARASHI! I want a day to come, where people hear me say, SUBARASHI, and the villains tremble, and the people rejoice!”
“Oooh, you’re saying we all need catchphrases? Are we working on catchphrases?" Sparkplug added. “Mine is gonna be… THE MOST ELECTRIFYING MAN IN HERO ENTERTAINMENT—!”
Katsuki locked his gaze on the girl. “You're another one from the recommended exams. Where’d you place relative to no-inside-voice over there?”
“Are you trying to determine where to situate me in your mental hierarchy?" She placed her hand on her chin. “That's adorable. Do not worry yourself. Simply know that my place is above you."
I swear to god, I'm gonna strangle a bitch today.
A small, sharp burst exploded in his right hand almost instinctively. “Wanna run that by me again?"
“An explosion quirk? Wonderful. I adore explosions. Fireworks, and all," She spun her hand out. A small grenade suddenly emerged between her fingers, and she pulled the pin. “They tend to be anything but boring."
The pin fell to the ground, clattering with the deafening sound of metal on ceramic. She held out the grenade, holding the lever tightly. The classroom fell silent. Time slowed to a crawl.
What the fuck?
“Oi, oi, oi, is that a—"
“Hey, um, so, Yao-babe, that isn't real, right?" Sparkplug pointed. “Right?”
"Of course it isn't," Fifth Place spoke up. “No one would bring that on their first day. The taser was one thing, but a grenade?"
“Actually, Yaoyorozu-hime's quirk… is Creation…" Loudmouth’s voice was sharp. “She doesn't bring things… she creates them… so that grenade—"
Creation? Katsuki snapped his gaze on the bitch. You create matter out of fucking thin air with your body fat?
Katsuki stared at the grenade in her hand and the person holding it. There and then, he’d just been challenged to a game of chicken.
“You're bluffing."
There was a challenge in her eyes. “Am I?"
It was a question of who would fold first. If he folded, he’d prove her point, her fucking claim she was above him, but if she folded, he’d be the one with all the bragging rights.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sparkplug rapidly started waving his hands. “This is getting a bit real here."
“Um… haha… I don't believe anyone would use a live grenade in a class… right? Awkward…" Invisi-girl mumbled.
Katsuki examined her eyes. The bitch wasn’t going to back down. He also definitely was not going to fucking back down. No way he would give her the satisfaction of backing down, of winning this fucking game of chicken. No fucking way.
But—
Her face. Her eyes. The way her lips moved. The momentary hesitation. The flushing. Her eyes had that same pathetic look in them that old Izuku used to have. That I have to do this look. All of it, all of it, spoke to Katsuki of the very, very blatant and clear possibility.
The grenade is fucking real.
Why? How? What sort of absolute maniac would unpin a live grenade for a game of chicken? If this bitch was willing to blow herself and everyone in the classroom just to prove a point, if she was willing to get expelled on the first day just to win a game of fucking chicken…
Wait.
Was he, Katsuki Bakugo, willing to risk other people getting hurt, just to win a game of fucking chicken?
“Go fetch.”
She lobbed the grenade forward.
Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!
Katsuki blasted his hands forward. The exact moment the grenade landed on the ground, he landed on top of it with his body and curled up.
“GET FUCKING DOWN!”
He braced himself for the explosion, the shockwave, because his body could handle that; it ate stronger shockwaves for breakfast. The shrapnel would be bitch, but it didn’t matter. That didn’t fucking matter. Karsuki’s heart was pounding.
A second. Two seconds. He lay on the ground, curled over the grenade. Three seconds. After the fourth, and nothing happened, Katsuki realized something was off.
Yaoyorozu stepped forward, smiling as she looked down at him.
“It was a dummy grenade.”
…
Fuck.
FUCK.
Yaoyorozu crouched, lightly patting his cheek.
“Like I said, my place is above you."
XXXXX - A Precise Note - XXXXX
Hitoshi didn’t understand.
Midoriya walked up to his friend, the delinquent, and helped him up. “Kacchan, are you okay?"
“I'm. Fine."
The delinquent looked ready to explode. His face was so red that it almost appeared as though it would burn if anyone touched it. Hitoshi did not blame him; he could not blame him. After that display, even he would be riled up.
“I need… to get… some fucking air."
An uncomfortable silence crept into the classroom at such a rate that it was hard, if not impossible, to ignore.
“So…" the Lightning-Winner clapped his hands. “That was kinda… cool."
“Cool?” Shiozaki bit out. “This madwoman pretended to drop a live grenade.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t. Also, with all of us here, I mean, I don’t think a live grenade is something we can’t handle,” Denki said, pointing to himself. “I’ve caught lightning in a bottle before. Midoriya over here’s got crazy reflexes and can keep up with me. We weren’t really in any danger.”
Lightning in a bottle? Hitoshi didn’t understand what he’d just heard. What?
Denki turned to Midoriya, giving the boy a thumbs-up.
“Your friend’s a lil’ rough on the edges, Midoriya, but like, man, he’s kinda really cool. I dig him.”
“SU-BA-RA-SHI!” Inasa’s eyes were sparkling. “To be willing to devote his body to save others! SU-BA-RA-SHI!”
“That was kind of cool, I’ll admit…” Toru mumbled.
I don’t understand it.
Hitoshi’s chest was pounding.
The Delinquent, the person in the room he had seen as being the least likely to be heroic, the one who blatantly spoke to him about scores and being the No. 1 Hero with such hot air it was uneasy to take it seriously, had jumped over a grenade for a group of strangers.
That was the person in Second Place.
Hitoshi could not understand it. At the same time, he did understand it. The boy had jumped over a grenade he did not know was real or not for the sake of people he had just met. Hitoshi himself could not say if he could do the same. He did not know if he could do the same. He had been preparing himself to use his Quirk to stop the girl from releasing the grenade if need be, but using himself as a shield?
He regarded Midoriya a second time. Both the Delinquent and Midoriya Izuku were close friends. Show me your friends, and I’ll tell you who you are, was a maxim as old as time. If the true nature of the person in Second Place was like that, then there was even less doubt in his mind about Midoriya Izuku’s true nature.
“That was… unneeded, Yaoyorozu-san."
Yaoyorozu swept her hand through her hair. “And you are?"
“Midoriya Izuku," Midoriya said, oddly stern. “Kacchan is my friend. I do not appreciate upsetting him like that.”
“Pardon me, Midoriya-san, but your friend was thoroughly entertaining," Yaoyorozu beamed with an almost innocent smile.
“Is that what people are to you? Sources of entertainment?"
“That’s what heroes are,” She extended her hand out, and from it, a playing card emerged, the Queen of Hearts. “A good hero is like a magic trick. They must leave you amazed and awed. All of us know magic is not real; we know that behind the illusion is a mere man, performing the actions of a mere man, yet we still enjoy the entertaining thrill of watching a magic trick, and wondering, how do they do it?"
She tossed the card into the air, and it morphed into a handkerchief. She plucked the handkerchief, wrung it around, spun it, and thus appeared in her hand a bouquet of flowers. Hitoshi only managed to identify them as lilacs, hyacinths, and gardenias. She plucked the petals clean off the flowers, and the stalks had morphed into a magician's stick, whereas the petals in her hand morphed into a magician's hat.
His eyes had watched the entire process happen, but he could not see a thing. He could not understand where and when the switches were made. It was a display of sleight of hand that was frighteningly flawless.
She placed the hat on her head with a tilt and idly waved the magician's stick in his direction. “Midoriya-san, your friend is frighteningly good at picking up on subtle facial expressions, even though he does not at all look the sort."
Yaoyorozu removed the hat, dropped the stick into the hat, and then folded the hat out of existence. Denki rushed over to her, his gaze sharply trying to find where the hat had gone, much to Yaoyorozu's amusement.
“Does he have any mute family members, by chance?"
“Kacchan doesn't have anything like that."
“How strange…" Yaoyorozu murmured. “If I did not know any better, I would say he has lived his entire life relying more on non-verbal communication than he has on words… he is surprisingly observant."
She was not wrong. The Delinquent was frighteningly perceptive. Hitoshi recalled how swiftly, within the first few minutes of encountering the Lightning Winner and his ability to passively read thoughts, he deciphered a weakness and a countermeasure. The Delinquent’s intelligence….
The fact that he was in Second Place was not without reason.
Hitoshi was in Fifth Place; the gap between them was only three places, but the distance between those three places was greater than he imagined.
“Kaminari-san, what are you doing?"
The Lightning Winner was darting around Yaoyorozu before he stopped and started scratching his head. “So, how do you do it? What’s the trick? Tell me, you gotta tell me."
Yaoyorozu gave him a curt smile. “A good magician never reveals her secrets."
“Oh, come on," Kaminari almost pouted. “Would you do it for a Scooby Snack?"
“No…?”
“Would you do it for two Scooby Snacks?”
“Kaminari-san, I don’t know what that is.”
Inasa moved towards Midoriya, almost setting his hand on him. Midoriya swept out of the way without turning to look. He turned around, at Inasa, who was blinking at him.
“Sorry,” Midoriya apologized. “I… don’t quite like being touched."
"It's fine," Inasa said. His voice was less boisterous, a more tolerable level. “Yaoyorozu-hime is rather fond of getting a rise out of people, but she always does it for a good reason. During the practical portion of the recommended exams, she baited one of the Pro-Heroes acting as villains to break character and go crazy attacking her…" His scrunched up. “It turned out that Pro-Hero was drunk and had been vindictively attacking applicants while playing the villain."
“You must be joking," Hitoshi was the one to interrupt. “You expect me to believe—"
“Positive, the Upbeat Hero," Inasa cut him off. “Yaoyorozu-hime baited him until he broke down. It turned out that his partner, Negative, was recently killed by a villain called Stain. He was not… in the right frame of mind."
“Um… haha… why… would they have allowed him to be a Proctor… confused?" the Invisible Girl asked.
“I believe they wanted us to see him, like that." Inasa's eyes narrowed. “Many who took the recommended exams dropped out at that point." Inasa glared at his hand, balling it into a fist. “Those of us who got recommendation letters did so because we have wondrous quirks… but for many, they wanted to apply to UA to be a hero because they felt it would be a ticket to wealth and fame, or to live up to the expectations of others."
Inasa shook his head. “Then we saw a hero, a Pro-Hero, a grown man, break down in tears and weep about his dead partner, angry and vicious and snarling at all of us, seeped in grief and loss. We saw the truth we'd been blind to see."
Inasa's eyes burned.
“Being a hero is not a privilege. Anyone who is here to be a hero for superficial reasons does not deserve to be a hero. At the first true sign of turmoil, their weak convictions will not only harm them, but also harm all others around them. When the going gets truly tough, they will be the first ones to hand over their resignation letters, hang their hero outfits within a closet, and leave the responsibility and burden to those with stronger wills."
The words struck a chord with Hitoshi. A bitter, familiar chord.
“Are you gatekeeping heroism?" Hitoshi asked.
“Yes.”
Inasa turned to him, his eyes alight.
“Because not everyone can be a hero.”
For a moment, Hitoshi wasn’t in Class 1-A, but he was in a warehouse, looking upon a man with his face obscured by hands.
Cause not everyone can be a hero.
That man had declared.
But anyone can be a villain.
“You’re wrong,” Hitoshi snapped. “No one gets to decide who can or cannot be a hero.”
“My friend, what do you think a Hero Academy is?" Inasa frowned. “It is a place to eliminate those who are unworthy of being a hero. One day, we will have to trust each other to save the lives of people or to save ourselves. Would you put your trust in a comrade who chose to be a hero for fame and fortune, or a comrade who is a hero because they have the passion for saving lives?"
“Guys, guys…" Lightning Winner cleared his throat. “Come on, this… this isn't worth arguing about. I mean, our reasons for wanting to be heroes might be different, but we still have the same goal, don't we?"
“Friend Midoriya, why do you wish to be a hero?”
Midoriya, without hesitating, said, “To help people. To help everyone.”
Inasa nodded, smiling, and patting him on the back, which, again, Midoriya dodged. He turned and pointed his finger straight at Invis-Girl. “Friend, why do you wish to be a hero?"
“Eh… Me?”
Invisi-Girl poked her fingers.
“Ah… well… I want… to be… seen? Embarrassed.”
“Seen?”
“I’m invisible all the time… so I thought, becoming a hero… I could be… more… well… you know…” she mumbled. “Noticeable.”
Inasa balked. He turned to Shiozaki. “And you…?”
“That is none of your business,” Shiozaki said stiffly.
He frowned, then turned to Lightning Winner. “What of you, Kaminari-san?”
“Save the day, stop bad guys, get the girl, stun the world,” Kaminari grinned. “The Electrifying Way."
Inasa glanced around the room, as if confused. “That's it?"
“What do you mean, that’s it?”
“How could you all want to be heroes for such flimsy reasons?"
“Whoa, whoa, hold the phone," Kaminari frowned. “Flimsy?"
Inasa slammed his hand against his chest, roaring with a thunderous voice. “A hero must have PASSION! PASSION! PASSION! The heart must burn with the desire to vanquish evil! To aid the helpless! To be a beacon of strength! If you aren't here with your first desire being to serve the people, why are you here?"
Yaoyorozu shook her head. “Yoarashi, you have to understand that not everyone who becomes a hero does so for noble reasons. Rather, ignoble reasons are more common than the inverse."
“She’s right. I don’t believe it is right to judge others' motivations, Inasa-san,” Midoriya added.
Inasa stared in befuddlement.
“No one becomes a firefighter because they wish to be seen. No one becomes a police officer because they wish to get the girl. Being a Pro-Hero is being a firefighter, police officer, first responder, and a public figure all in one! How can you see all that and not realize the weight of the burden you are undertaking? The risk you are putting your life in, and that of your family, your brothers and sisters, your parents, your future spouses and children?”
Inasa’s eyes were bulging, and veins were on his throat and forehead.
“Or is it, as you foil the schemes of villains and bring ruin to their ambitions and desires, you all believe they will be so noble, so righteous, so chivalrous, as to leave your loved ones uninvolved in their vendettas against you?!"
The room fell silent. It was so silent that Hitoshi dared not breathe.
Kaminari slowly said, “That's… going a bit dark, there."
Inasa stared at him. “Dark." He breathed out. “Dark.”
Without any other words, Inasa stepped out of the room, the force of his gale winds slamming the door shut behind him. If the Delinquent leaving had created an awkward silence, Inasa's leaving had created a chilling, uncomfortable one.
Hitoshi’s chest felt hot. He was aware. There were no rules of engagement in the conflict between good and evil. He remembered the League of Villains. He remembered that man, who could teleport people at whim and will. That man who had known not only about him, but also his parents, his father and mother.
There was a knot turning in Hitoshi’s stomach.
“Purely by the leaked statistics from the Bureau of Public Records… Kaminari-san, he’s not wrong,” Yaoyorozu broke the silence. “There are going to be far more days when the girl dies in your arms than there are days when you'll save her. That and… of course, the possibility of a villain targeting your family is very real."
“Oh, come on, not you too," Kaminari grimaced. “How about we… I dunno… not think about this? It’s a major mood killer. Today’s literally the first day, guys!” Kaminari ran his hand through his hair. “Besides, I’ve never heard of any case where—”
“Incidents and occurrences when a Hero’s family is attacked are not typically reported. They do not make the news, and are covered up by the media and authorities,” Yaoyoruzu countered. “The Gospelgate scandal discussed it before it was suppressed by the Public Hero Safety Commission. It was decided, for obvious reasons, that revealing that information to the public would vastly reduce the potential number of people who desired to become heroes.”
What?
Midoriya spoke up, “Were the documents not revealed to have inflated data?"
“Well, of course, the Commission would say that," She answered simply. “It's not exactly like they can admit the truth to the world."
“What are you two even talking about?" Kaminari groaned.
“Five years ago, there was a B-Rank Villain called Gospel,” Midoriya said. “She broke into the Bureau of Public Records and briefly sparked a scandal called the Gospelgate by revealing a lot of unpleasant statistics about Pro-Heroes. Her goal was to discourage people from becoming heroes."
Hitoshi slowly asked, "What sort of statistics?”
“Individuals who become Pro-Heroes for non-altruistic purposes end up retiring on average, three decades earlier than their counterparts." Yaoyorozu lifted a finger. “The life-expectancy for Pro-Heroes is about half the national average," Another finger. “Pro-Heroes who marry non-heroes are about sixty-to-seventy times more likely to be abusive partners and/or perpetrators of domestic violence," A third finger. “Sixty percent of Pro-Heroes have admitted to making heavy use of addictive substances, and suffer from one sort of addiction or another," A fourth finger. “Fifty-five percent of all Pro-Heroes are advised to retire due to being deemed psychologically unfit to continue heroics. Ninety percent of which ignore that advice."
…What?
“That… that can't be right…?" Kaminari gave a nervous chuckle.
”The data makes sense. Doctors, firefighters, and first responders have an alarmingly high rate of depression, experience significant levels of stress and burnout in comparison to the general public, mostly tied to trauma exposure, heavy workloads, and organizational stress,” Yaoyorozu said. “Now, imagine all that, but you’re also a Celebrity who everyone will blame, curse, insult, and hate for failing to save people or making a mistake that costs lives.”
“Oh my god," Kaminari groaned. “Come on, people! This is way too early to start thinking about this stuff! Like! Come on! We're supposed to be excited on the first day!"
His words did nothing to stifle the choking air in the room. Hitoshi still could not breathe. He was aware that being a Hero would never be an easy task; he was aware it would never be an easy job, but having this information thrown in front of him like this?
The air in the classroom was as though someone had died. His throat felt choked.
Kaminari ran his hand down his face. “If the next student that steps through that door isn't as hyped as I am, I swear—"
The door swung open. A boy with a dull, irritated gaze entered. One part of his hair was crystal white, and the other a fiery red. He drew the gaze of everyone still in the classroom directly to him, particularly to the scar that lay on his face.
"Todoroki-san." Yaoyorozu greeted him. "You made it."
Todoroki Shōto, Endeavor’s son, took a glance around the room, made no sound whatsoever upon identifying Yaoyorozu, and promptly walked over to take a seat at the back of the class, not bothering to register anyone else's presence.
Kaminari stared at the boy, the silent classroom, and turned his head to the wall.
“Three years, Kaminari… it's just three years…"
Kaminari banged his head on the nearest wall.
“Just three years…"