Bakugo glances over his shoulder.
Several reporters stumble.
A ripple of confusion passes through the crowd and then, before anyone fully processes what is happening, the entire press crowd rises into the air.
Two feet off the ground.
All of them at once.
Cameras, microphones, notepads, recording equipment, reporters with bewildered expressions, all of it hovering above the pavement.
"What the hell?!"
"What happened?!"
"I'M FLYING!"
The crowd drifts apart as people instinctively try to steady themselves.
A pathway opens through the middle, and two students walk through it.
Ayaka with a bright, entirely unbothered smile on her face.
"Excuse us," Izumi says beside her, neutral expression, eyes forward.
They pass through U.A.'s gate and into the school grounds without slowing or looking up.
A moment later the reporters descend.
Gently, unevenly. Some land on their feet. Others do not. Several grab at each other for balance. One loses a microphone, one nearly drops a camera. Another simply stands with their mouth open, staring at the space where the two students had been.
Then every head turns toward the school.
Several cameras turn with them.
Only to find Aizawa standing directly in front of the gate.
He is in his usual clothes. His hair is down. He looks like a man who regrets having woken up this morning, which is not an unusual look for Aizawa.
The questions hit all at once.
"What was that?!"
"Who were those students —"
"Was that a quirk —"
"Is that even legal —"
He stares at them with the exhausted patience of someone who has long since stopped being surprised by the things people choose to ask.
Nearly a minute passes. The reporters run themselves down. The one at the front adjusts her microphone, accepts the situation, and asks in the tone of someone who has spent two days losing:
"Please, sir. Could you at least get All Might for us?"
A pause.
She glances at him.
"Also… are you alright? You look a little…"
Aizawa considers this.
"All Might isn't on campus today," he says.
He waves a hand motioning toward the street.
"Now get out of here. You've disturbed my students enough."
He turns and starts walking back toward the U.A. grounds.
"But our viewers want to know how he's adjusting —"
"Sir, I feel like I've seen you somewhere before," one of the other reporters says, squinting.
"A hero maybe?" someone offers.
"Doesn't look like one…"
"Sir, if you won't bring All Might out, I'll —"
The lead reporter takes a step forward, following behind Aizawa toward the entrance.
"Wait —" another reporter reaches for her arm, but he is too late.
A sound rings out across the entrance. Clean, sharp, mechanical.
Every conversation stops at once. The ground trembles. Then massive steel barriers erupt from the earth around the full perimeter of U.A., smooth and immediate, the main gate disappearing behind layers of reinforced metal.
The reporter shrieks and stumbles back, losing her footing and landing hard on the pavement.
"Hey! What's happening?!"
The reporter who had tried to stop her pulls her to her feet. "The UA barrier. Don't you know about it? It's designed to stop anyone without a student ID or special pass from entering the grounds." He shakes his head. "If the system detects a potential breach attempt, it responds automatically."
She stares up at the towering barrier.
"That thing practically killed me."
"Security sensors all over the campus," another reporter confirms pointing to the marked boundary at the main entrance. "Every entrance, every boundary."
She straightens her jacket and turns her glare on the towering metal wall.
"Keeping the public out," she says. "This school thinks it's untouchable. Two days and not a single comment on the record. Not one."
"I know," the reporter beside her mutters. "Two days."
"Still don't have a single proper interview."
The cluster of reporters drifts into collective grievance, voices overlapping and theories begin forming.
Nobody notices the lone figure standing across the street.
Hands buried in his pockets.
Messy blue hair hanging across his face.
He watches the reporters. He watches the barrier. He watches the school, standing still.
Then Tomura Shigaraki smiles.
***
Aizawa stands at the front of the classroom.
The morning light comes through the high windows at a clean angle, and Class 1-A is seated with the kind of attention that comes from not knowing yet what the day is about to demand from them.
"Decent work on yesterday's combat training," he says, without preamble. He reaches up and pushes his hair back. "I reviewed the recordings last night."
He gaze moves across the room.
"Asui, Tokoyami."
The two look up.
"The redirection strategy was well executed. You used your quirks to complement each other rather than compete for space in the same fight. That's not common at your level."
Tsuyu nods. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa. Ribbit."
Tokoyami gives a single quiet nod. Dark Shadow shifts against his shoulder with something that might, generously, be described as smug.
"Midoriya."
Aizawa's eyes settle on him.
"Y-Yes!"
Midoriya nearly jumps out of his seat.
"You've improved."
The room goes quiet.
"You controlled the flow of the engagement, kept the objective in focus even under pressure, and managed the battlefield without losing sight of your partner. That's not easy to do at the same time."
Midoriya goes very still.
He stares at Aizawa.
For a moment he genuinely doesn't know what to do with that.
"…Thank you," he says quietly.
A smile finds its way onto his face before he can stop it, small and honest.
Aizawa's gaze moves to Momo and Ayaka.
He pauses for half a second.
"Good work," he says.
Momo inclines her head slightly.
Ayaka smiles.
"Koda."
Koda straightens almost imperceptibly.
"You did well."
Koda's shoulders ease a fraction. Then Aizawa continues.
"But Sato took more damage than he needed to because you held back at the moments when it would have made a difference." He holds his gaze steadily. "You have more to offer than you're using. Start using it."
Koda nods slowly. He doesn't speak. He rarely does. But something in his expression suggests the words settled exactly where they were meant to.
Aizawa's gaze moves to Izumi.
It lingers for a fraction longer than it does on anyone else.
Then it moves on.
"Todoroki."
Shoto looks up.
"You rely too much on overwhelming force."
The classroom blinks.
Of all people —
"Power without direction is just destruction. You have the capability to end most fights before they begin, and that's exactly the problem." Aizawa holds his gaze. "A hero who wins by burying everything in front of them never learns how to handle what can't be buried. And there will be things that can't be buried." He pauses. "You have access to everything you need. Start deciding to use it."
Shoto is quiet for a moment.
"…Understood," he says.
He says it evenly, the way he says most things.
Aizawa studies him for a second longer.
"Maybe."
The classroom stills slightly.
"The problem isn't your power." His voice remains flat. "It's that you've already decided which parts of yourself you're willing to use."
Todoroki's eyes lift.
"Heroes don't get to choose which tools are convenient when people's lives are on the line."
A brief silence settles over the room.
"Figure out what you're fighting."
For the first time, Todoroki's calmness breaks.
"Because if you're spending half your effort fighting yourself, you're never going to find out what you're actually capable of."
Silence.
Shoto holds his gaze for a moment.
Then nods.
"I understand."
Aizawa moves on.
"You all performed better than expected." He looks across the class. "You still have a long way to go."
Several students visibly relax in their seats.
Aizawa glances down at a sheet of paper.
"Right. Let's moves on to today's first order of business."
The paper rustles softly.
"Our next task will have a direct impact on the rest of your time in this class."
Silence.
The room freezes.
Midoriya's soul practically leaves his body.
Kaminari looks genuinely horrified.
Mina stops mid-exhale.
Even Bakugo sits upright.
'Is it another quirk test?'
'What is it this time?'
'What does that even mean?'
Aizawa looks up from the paper.
"You need to choose a class representative."
…
'Oh. Normal school stuff.'
The tension leaves the room all at once.
A collective exhale sweeps through the classroom.
"Oh thank god."
"You scared me!"
"I thought somebody was getting expelled!"
"Seriously, Mr. Aizawa."
Kaminari slumps over his desk.
"Stop scaring us by saying things like 'your future depends on this.'"
Aizawa looks completely unmoved.
Before the relief has even settled, hands went up. Not one or two. Most of them, rising with the speed of people who had found an opportunity awaiting them.
Kirishima's hand was up and his other hand was pointing at himself. "I'll do it! I am pretty dependable, honestly —"
"Come on, guys. I'd be an awesome class rep."
"Nah."
Kaminari stood up.
"You need somebody charismatic."
"That's not you," Jiro said, without looking up.
"Rude."
"It wasn't." She glanced at him. "You are going to need someone like me."
Mina practically launched herself out of her chair.
"I should totally be class rep!"
"Based on what?"
"My vibes."
"That's not a qualification."
"It should be."
Hagakure's hand shot up from somewhere to the left. "Ooh! Me too!"
Sero raised his. "I'd actually be pretty good."
At the front of the room even Bakugo was on his feet shouting, "I'll do it."
Midoriya, raises his arm at his desk. Unlike everyone else, he looks genuinely nervous about it.
Izumi looks at the raised hands around the room with the mild expression amusement.
At the front, Ayaka has both hands over her mouth trying to supress her laughter. Aizawa was looking directly at her, expression flat, which was not helping.
Behind Izumi, Momo shook her head once and let out a quiet sigh.
Then —
"Silence, everyone, please!"
Iida's voice cuts cleanly through the room.
Every head turns. Including Aizawa's.
Iida was standing. His hand was also raised, and it was raised higher than everyone else's.
"The class representative's duty," he says, "is to lead others. That is not something that just anyone can do." He looks around the room. "You must first have the trust of every student in the classroom. Therefore, the most logical method to fill this position is democratically. We will hold an election."
He pauses.
His raised hand remains exactly where it was.
The class notices.
"…It's pretty obvious you want us to vote for you," Jiro says flatly.
"The process speaks for itself," Iida says, adjusting his glasses.
A murmur spreads through the class.
"Is this really the best idea? We've only known each other a few days."
"How do you even know who to trust?"
"Everyone's just gonna vote for themselves."
Iida walks to the front of the room.
"Most people will. But that means whoever receives multiple votes must truly be the most suitable candidate."
He turns to Aizawa.
"It's the most efficient method available, sir, with respect."
Aizawa had, at some point in the last two minutes, produced his yellow sleeping bag from somewhere.
Nobody saw him do it.
He is already lying inside it on the floor facing the wall.
"Do what you want," he says. "Decide before my nap's over."
Iida bows at ninety degrees. "Thank you for your trust, sir."
An unintelligible sound comes from inside the sleeping bag.
Taking that as permission to proceed, Iida moves immediately to the teacher's desk and begins organising the election.
"As class representative is a position of considerable responsibility, we shall conduct this process fairly and efficiently. Each student will receive one ballot and cast one vote. Once all votes have been submitted, the results shall be counted and —"
A hand rises near the back.
Iida pauses. The rest of the students look over.
Izumi stands.
"I'll be withdrawing from consideration," he says. "I'll still vote, but I don't want to be considered for the position of representative."
That earns a reaction from Aizawa.
The sleeping bag slowly rotates on the floor until it faces Izumi's direction. Aizawa's tired eyes settle on him.
"You're sure?"
"My schedule is fully occupied with training and other obligations," Izumi shrugs lightly. "Taking the position and not being able to perform the duties properly would be worse than not taking it at all."
Aizawa studies him for a moment.
Then nods.
"Fine."
The sleeping bag immediately rolls back to face the wall.
Before Iida can resume speaking, another chair slides backwards.