The boys' locker room was louder than the classroom had been, though the noise carried a different kind of tension. Lockers slammed open and shut in uneven rhythm while metal benches screeched against tile from people haphazardly sitting down carelessly. Conversations overlapped in nervous bursts as everyone rushed to change within the time limit. It smelled faintly of soap, sweat, and fresh fabric.
Niko stepped inside without hesitation.
A few heads turned, looking at him. Not that Niko blamed them, He had almost started a fight, after all. He paid them no mind and chose a locker near the far wall, one that gave him a clear line of sight to both the entrance and the mirrors. He set his folded tracksuit down neatly before reaching for the buttons of his shirt. His movements were calm, unhurried, almost methodical.
When the shirt slid from his shoulders, the room quieted in small increments.
Black ink spread across Niko's skin. Stars marked high on his shoulders, barbed wire coiled around one forearm, a cathedral stretched across his ribs and down his abs, its domes dark and severe.
And across his back, spanning from one shoulder blade to the other, was the largest piece.
A gaunt, winged creature arched over his spine, its limbs too long, its fingers ending in talon-like points. Hollow eyes stared outward from a sharp, almost birdlike face, and beneath its ribcage, faintly etched, were two overlapping hearts. The wings were not feathered in any soft, elegant way; they were jagged, inked in harsh strokes that made the creature look less like something divine and more like something dragged from shadow.
"…What is that?" someone asked quietly.
Niko paused, turning to look at a broad shouldered boy with spiky red hair and sharp teeth approaching.
"It is a Strzyga. It is creature in Slavic myths, a cursed spirit." Niko replied evenly. Niko slowly pulled his undershirt on, a sleeveless turtlenecked thermal shirt. "My name is Niko, and you are?"
The red haired boy blinked and extended his hand, which Niko shook. "Kirishima Eijirou, nice to meetcha."
The other boys, noticing that Niko was easy to talk to, used the opportunity while getting dressed to introduce one another.
There was Aoyama Yuga, a blonde boy who walked like he was trying to get everyone's attention all at once.
Mashirao Ojirou, another blonde boy with shorter hair who had a thick tail.
Kaminari Denki, yet another blonde boy with a black horizontal lightning bolt shape going through his hair.
Kouda Kouji, a quiet boy whose head looks like a rock.
Satou Rikidou, who, aside from being quite well built and tall, was rather the most plain looking person here.
From there, Shouji Mezou was the most outlandish looking person here, with grey hair swept forward over one eye, a mask over his face, and six muscular arms attached by a web of skin, but considering that this is a world where people on the street can have a cactus as a head, Niko thought nothing of it.
Sero Hanta was also rather plain looking, except that his face always has his teeth showing, and he has thick cylindrical elbows with an open slot on them.
Tokoyami Fumikage was the next most outlandish looking person here, possessing a beak and a birds head. Still, for the same reasons as Shouji, Niko thought nothing of it.
The boy with red and white hair didn't bother to introduce himself, mumbling something about not being here to make friends, causing more than a few heads to shake in helplessness.
Finally there was a short boy with purple hair and spherical...growths on the top of his head. Mineta Minoru.
Niko had politely greeted them all, but soon the eight minute mark was approaching and the boys had to hustle out to get onto the field, where the girls and Aizawa were waiting.
Instantly, the girls spotted the tattoos on his arms and hands and began to whisper amongst themselves, while Aizawa just stared impassively.
"It took you eight seconds longer than the girls," he said flatly. "That's not a good start."
A few of the boys stiffened immediately.
Aizawa turned slightly, gesturing toward the open field behind him where various testing stations had already been set up—cones, measuring lines, grip devices, a softball resting in a marked circle. "Today we'll be conducting a Quirk Apprehension Test."
A ripple of confusion spread through the class.
"Aizawa-sensei," Iida began, posture rigid, "what about the orientation—"
"There is no time for that." Aizawa's tone didn't rise, but it cut cleanly through the air. "In the real world, villains don't wait for you to get situated. Japan's education system coddles you too much. U.A, isn't tethered to traditions. It allows a high degree of freedom to it's students and it's faculty. Which pretty much means, my class, my rules."
Murmurs followed.
Midoriya looked especially shaken. "Q-Quirk Apprehension…? But on the first day—"
"You have three years here," Aizawa continued, ignoring the protests. "If you're going to become heroes, I need to know what you're capable of."
He picked up the softball and held it out. "Bakugou. You got the highest score on the middle school entrance practical. How far can you throw this?"
Bakugou stepped forward with a sharp click of his tongue, rolling his shoulder once. "In middle school? Sixty-seven meters."
"Throw it," Aizawa said. "Use your Quirk. Any thing goes, just stay in the circle."
A collective pause.
Midoriya's eyes widened. "We can use our Quirks?!" Uraraka blurted at the same time.
Aizawa's stare flattened further. "You're not allowed to use them in tests before now, right? That's stupid. You're here to train to be heroes. Of course you'll use them."
Bakugou grinned, feral and eager. He stepped into the circle, palm already sparking. "Don't cry when you see the gap between us," he muttered.
The explosion cracked across the field, sharp and controlled. The ball rocketed into the sky, vanishing almost instantly before the digital display near Aizawa blinked to life.
705.2 meters.
Several students gasped. Kaminari whooped. Kirishima let out a loud, impressed laugh.
Aizawa didn't react beyond lowering his arm. "You see?" he said. "That's what happens when you're free to use your power."
Several students begin chatting excitedly.
"Looks like fun, huh?" Aizawa chuckled before letting a sneer spread across his face. "Well, in that case... Whoever comes last across all exercises is getting expelled.
The air dropped several degrees.
"Huuuh?!" multiple voices cried out at once.
"You can't be serious!" Kaminari protested. "We just got here!"
Aizawa scoffed. "I can't huh? Remember what I said? My class, My rules. You've got three years here. Three years to make your potential and talent into skill and experience. It's not gonna be fun and games. This is the real world. Life is unfair and it doesn't care about what you want. It's a hero's job to combat or prevent that unfairness, and you kids aren't heroes. Not yet anyways."
"Anyways, we're wasting time. Give it your all, plus ultra style."
Expressing some awkwardness, and some dread, Aizawa gestures to some rubber topped asphalt. "Right, let's get the easy stuff out the way to warm you kids up." He said. "Find a spot. We're doing seated toe touches, forty seconds. If your quirks help with this, fine, just hold it for as long as you can. After that, sit ups, as many as you can without wearing yourselves out in thirty seconds. That oughta get you all warmed up for the others."
Everyone got in their places, though no one's quirk assisted them in the stretch, aside from Ojirou using his tail (and Asui, not that Niko knew her name nor her quirk).
Sit ups were much the same, but it was the long distance run where people really started getting serious.