Parent visiting day started with chaos and went downhill from there.
"EVERYONE SMILE!" Miss Aoki commanded, positioning the class for the welcome performance.
"I don't wanna smile," Takeshi muttered.
"Smile anyway!"
"But my face—"
"SMILE!"
The parents filed in, cameras ready. Haruto spotted his mother immediately—she was the one with the professional camera that probably cost more than their rent. His father stood beside her, looking amused.
Inko waved at Izuku, who waved back enthusiastically. Mina's parents were recording on three different devices simultaneously.
"Begin!" Miss Aoki whispered frantically.
The class launched into the welcome song, which they'd practiced exactly twice. It showed.
"WELCOME TO OUR CLASSROOM!" they sang, mostly off-key.
"WE'RE HAPPY YOU ARE HERE!"
Takeshi forgot the words and just made sound effects. Hana's hair caught fire from nervousness. Ryo was facing the wrong direction.
"WE'LL SHOW YOU WHAT WE'RE LEARNING!"
Haruto mouthed the words. Izuku sang with full commitment. Mina added interpretive dance that nobody had agreed to.
"THROUGHOUT THE SCHOOL YEAR!"
The song ended. The parents applauded politely. Miss Aoki looked relieved to have survived.
"Wonderful! Now, please find your child and we'll begin our classroom activities!"
The parents dispersed. Haruto's mother rushed over, camera still clicking.
"That was beautiful, sweetie!"
"It was a disaster," Haruto said.
"A beautiful disaster!"
"That's not how disasters work."
His father crouched down. "You did great, buddy. Very... enthusiastic mouthing."
"I wasn't enthusiastic. I was present."
"High praise from you."
Inko approached with Izuku, who was bouncing with excitement.
"Did you see us, Mama? Did you see?"
"I saw, sweetie! You were wonderful!"
"Haru-kun and I are gonna show you what we learned in math!"
"You learned math?" Haruto's mother asked, surprised.
"We learned to count to twenty," Haruto clarified.
"Oh. That's... that's good!"
"It's not impressive, Mama. You can just say that."
"I'm trying to be supportive!"
"You can support with honesty."
"He's got you there, Yuki," his father said.
Miss Aoki clapped for attention. "Parents! We're going to start with a quirk demonstration! Each child will show their parents what they've learned about quirk control!"
"Oh no," Haruto said.
"Oh YES!" Mina cheered.
The demonstrations began. Yuki showed off her ice-making, creating a small snowflake. Kenji stretched his arm to grab something off a shelf. Hana very carefully created a flame the size of a candle.
"Excellent control, Hana!" Miss Aoki praised.
Then it was Takeshi's turn.
"What's your quirk, Takeshi-kun?" a parent asked.
"I can eat anything!" Takeshi announced proudly.
"That's nice, dear, but what will you demonstrate?"
Takeshi picked up a textbook and took a bite.
"TAKESHI, NO!" Miss Aoki lunged, but too late.
Takeshi chewed thoughtfully. "Needs salt."
"Spit that out RIGHT NOW!"
"But you said demonstrate—"
"NOT BY EATING SCHOOL PROPERTY!"
The parents were trying very hard not to laugh. Takeshi's mother looked resigned.
"This happens weekly," she told Miss Aoki. "We've learned to accept it."
Mina went next, carefully dissolving a leaf in a controlled pattern. Her parents applauded enthusiastically.
"Beautiful, Mina!"
"Thanks! I've been practicing!"
"Your control has improved so much!"
Then it was Izuku's turn. He stood up, looking nervous.
"I don't have a quirk," he said quietly. "So I've been working on physical training instead."
"Show them your progress, Izuku!" Miss Aoki encouraged.
Izuku went to the pull-up bar they had in the classroom and managed to hang for thirty seconds.
"That's wonderful!" Inko said, tears already forming.
"Mama, don't cry! It's just hanging!"
"I'm proud!"
"I'm literally just hanging!"
"PROUDLY hanging!"
Haruto's turn arrived. Miss Aoki brought out a potted plant.
"Haruto has been working on precise growth control. Haruto, if you could demonstrate?"
Haruto placed his hand on the plant, focusing on growing exactly three leaves. The plant cooperated—it was a cheerful little thing that enjoyed showing off.
Three leaves grew. Exactly three. He'd gotten good at this.
The parents applauded. His mother took seventeen pictures.
"That's my boy!" his father said.
"It's three leaves, Dad."
"Three PERFECT leaves!"
"They're just leaves."
"Perfect leaves!"
After demonstrations came arts and crafts. The parents sat with their children, helping them make "parent appreciation cards."
"What should I write?" Izuku asked Inko.
"Whatever you feel, sweetie!"
"Can I write about hero analysis?"
"Maybe something simpler?"
"But hero analysis is how I show love!"
"I know, dear. How about 'thank you'?"
"That's boring!"
"It's classic!"
Haruto stared at his blank card.
"Need help?" his mother asked.
"I don't know what to write."
"How about what you appreciate about us?"
"That's vague."
"Try anyway."
Haruto thought for a moment, then wrote: "Thanks for tolerating my plant conversations and not sending me to therapy."
His father read it over his shoulder and burst out laughing.
"That's perfect."
"Really?" his mother asked, reading it. "Oh. Oh, that's actually very sweet in a Haruto way."
"It's honest."
"I know. That's what makes it sweet."
Mina's card read: "Thanks for buying acid-resistant furniture." Her parents looked touched.
Takeshi's card had bite marks. His mother accepted it graciously.
"It's the thought that counts," she said.
"I thought about eating it but didn't!"
"We appreciate your restraint."
Next was snack time, which meant parent-child bonding over crackers and juice.
"These crackers are terrible," Haruto observed.
"Haruto," his mother chided gently.
"I'm being honest."
"Be honest quietly."
"That's not how honesty works."
Izuku was explaining his hero analysis system to Inko, who listened with patient attention despite clearly not understanding half of it.
"—and you see, the correlation between rescue speed and public perception is actually really fascinating because—"
"Sweetie, breathe."
"—right, sorry! But it IS fascinating!"
"I'm sure it is."
"You don't sound sure."
"I'm supportive-sure."
"That's not a thing, Mama."
A kid named Hiroshi started crying because his father had to leave for work. Then another kid started crying in sympathy. Then another.
"It's like a crying cascade," Haruto's father observed.
"That's actually the technical term," Miss Aoki said, trying to comfort three children at once. "Emotional contagion."
"Psychology in action," Haruto said.
"You're four," his mother said. "How do you know about emotional contagion?"
"Gerald explained it."
"The fern."
"He's very educational."
His parents exchanged their usual look of loving bewilderment.
The crying eventually stopped. Miss Aoki gathered everyone for story time, where she read a book about a hero who saved people with kindness.
"That's not realistic," Haruto whispered to Izuku.
"Shh! It's a nice story!"
"Nice doesn't mean realistic."
"Can't it be both?"
"Not usually."
After story time came free play. The parents watched as their children demonstrated what "free play" meant in a classroom of quirk-users.
It meant controlled chaos.
Yuki and another ice-user were having a snow-building contest. Kenji was playing jump rope with his stretchy arms. Hana was carefully melting crayons into art (supervised).
Takeshi tried to eat a toy car before being redirected.
Mina accidentally melted part of her desk and immediately started apologizing profusely.
"It's okay!" Miss Aoki said quickly. "We have acid-resistant replacements!"
"You have REPLACEMENTS?!"
"This happens monthly!"
Haruto was sitting with his mother, watching Izuku play with hero figures.
"Are you having fun, sweetie?" his mother asked.
"This is loud."
"That's not an answer."
"It's honest."
"Haruto."
"Fine. It's fine. I'm having adequate fun."
"High praise from you."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true."
His father returned from talking with other parents. "I met Bakugo's dad. Nice guy. Very quiet."
"Because his wife and son use all the volume in the family," Haruto said.
"That's actually accurate." His father sat down. "He says Bakugo won't stop talking about your training sessions."
"We train twice a week."
"He apparently talks about it daily."
"That's excessive."
"That's Bakugo."
"Same thing."
Finally, mercifully, the visiting day ended. Parents started leaving, promising to return for the next event.
"We'll see you at the spring performance!" Inko said, waving.
"There's a spring performance?" Haruto asked with dread.
"It's on the calendar, sweetie," his mother said.
"I don't check the calendar."
"We noticed."
After all the parents left, Miss Aoki collapsed in her chair.
"We survived," she announced to the class.
"Did we though?" Ryo asked. "Takeshi ate a book."
"We MOSTLY survived."
"I only ate one page!" Takeshi protested.
"Still counts!"
The rest of the day was quiet—relatively. The class was exhausted from performing for parents. Even Izuku's note-taking was half-hearted.
"That was stressful," Mina said during afternoon quiet time.
"It was loud," Haruto agreed.
"My mom took SO MANY pictures," Izuku said. "Like, so many. I think she took pictures of other kids by accident."
"My mom took pictures of the classroom walls," Haruto said. "For documentation."
"My parents live-streamed the whole thing," Mina added. "To my grandparents in Osaka."
"Why?" Haruto asked.
"They wanted to see! It's sweet!"
"It's surveillance."
"Sweet surveillance!"
"Not a thing."
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
"QUIET TIME!" Miss Aoki called. "That means QUIET!"
They fell silent. Haruto put his head down on his desk, exhausted.
His hand was resting near a small potted plant on the windowsill. The plant reached out mentally.
Tired?
Very.
The small humans were loud today.
They're always loud.
Today was louder. The big humans added volume.
Yeah.
Rest. You did well.
Thanks, random classroom plant.
My name is Herbert.
Of course it is.
The plant—Herbert—rustled with amusement, and Haruto closed his eyes.
One day down. Many more to go.
But he'd survived parent visiting day. That was something.
That evening, Gerald got the full report.
"Parent day," Haruto said.
"I heard. The cherry tree told me. Said you grew three perfect leaves."
"They were just leaves."
"Perfect leaves, according to the cherry tree. She was impressed."
"The cherry tree is easily impressed."
"She's young. Everything impresses her."
"Fair."
They sat in comfortable silence.
"Your parents were proud," Gerald observed.
"They're always proud. I could grow a single blade of grass and they'd frame it."
"That's called love."
"That's called excessive."
"Same thing sometimes."
Haruto smiled despite himself. "You sound like my dad."
"Your dad is wise."
"Everyone in my life is apparently wise except me."
"You're learning. That's different."
"When did you become an expert on learning?"
"When you started needing one."
"That's your answer for everything."
"Because it's true for everything."
Inside, his mother was already organizing the day's photos. His father was telling her about meeting other parents. The cherry tree rustled contentedly.
Everything was normal. Peaceful. Loud, but manageable.
Parent visiting day was over. Until the spring performance.
"Gerald?"
"Yes?"
"What's a spring performance?"
"You'll find out."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's not meant to be."
"You're terrible at comfort."
"I'm a fern. I provide philosophical support, not emotional comfort."
"What's the difference?"
"About three inches and several years of oak tree wisdom."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Welcome to philosophy."
Haruto laughed, heading inside for dinner.