After wrapping up with All Might, Present Mic, and Midnight, I figured we'd snag a breather. Nope - not even a damn gap between periods. We had to plow through more teachers to finish this hellish crash course.
Shit hit peak tension when the clock struck 18:50.
...
Math - Ectoplasm
Ectoplasm rolled in, face stern, eyes cutting like he could read my damn soul. Same blacked-out suit, metal jaw peeking out, tan coat, and those freaky prosthetic legs. Up close, though? Not goofy - downright intimidating, especially since he's teaching math.
"We'll start now," he said, low and final - no mercy.
I glanced at Toga. She looked about as thrilled as a kid at the dentist.
"Today's lesson: Applied math in combat."
I nodded. Solid topic. But before I could chime in, Toga beat me to it.
"Combat needs math? Just charge in and slice already!"
Ectoplasm didn't blink. He stepped to the board, scribbling a short, brutal problem:
"A building's trashed by a villain. A 500 kg chunk's falling from 50 meters onto a kid. You've got 1.8 seconds. Save them - no collateral."
I frowned. Half a ton of concrete? Deflecting that's a pipe dream.
Toga laughed. "Easy! I'd chop it in half!"
"Wrong," Ectoplasm snapped. "It'd shatter and fragments still affect the kid. Try again."
I ran the numbers in my head, full throttle. "Push the kid aside or move it with controlled direction?"
He nodded. "That's better."
Toga propped her chin, bored. "Too complicated… Can we just slice fast enough???"
"From now on, every 'just charge in and slice' gets you five clones of me to fight at finals."
...
Modern Literature - Cementoss
Next up, literature with Cementoss.
He seemed chiller than Ectoplasm - less edge, but not soft at all. He kicked off with a question: "Name a work that's shaped society big time."
I'm totally blanked. After math, lit's my weakest link - words don't stick. In this world, though? All Might comics probably are the best option for now... Maybe????
Brain empty, I winged it: "Books on All Might shaped what a hero means today, right?"
Cementoss nodded. "True. But is literature just for heroes?"
Toga smirked. "Crime comics probably jack up the youth too."
He glanced at her, then back to me. "Literature reflects truth, but it can be twisted for agendas."
I got that. Power players warp info all the time - I've done it myself. Heroes don't always punch; pens can kill if you wield 'em right.
---
Basic Combat Technique - Aizawa Shota (Eraser Head)
Clock nearing 20:00, Aizawa hit the podium, eyes droopy but sharp as hell.
"No speeches," he said. "We're doing this hands-on."
No warning - he chucked a fake knife at me.
Reflex kicked in; I dodged. But as I smugly thought I'd cleared it, a chalk piece flew, breaking my focus - bam, knife hit me. Plastic, thank fuck, or I'd be screwed.
"Combat's not just moves," he whispered, right in my ear. "It's awareness."
I shivered.
"Now, books out. Theory time. Your body's not ready yet, Onodera."
Thought "theory" meant a lighter load. Nope - mental torture fest.
Aizawa dove in, slapping tactical terms on the board - basics like "combat range" to hardcore shit like "enemy perception steering."
"Say you're mid-fight," he said, locking eyes with me. "Five enemies around. Focus on just one - what happens?"
I mulled it, then answered: "The others hit my blind spots."
"Exactly," he nodded. "Never fixate. Use peripheral vision, feel movement, hear the space."
Toga yawned loud. "Sounds boring…"
Aizawa didn't flinch - just lobbed a chalk piece her way. She dodged, but a second one nailed her forehead from another angle.
"...?"
She glared like she'd gut him; I bit back a laugh. Aizawa crossed his arms.
"That's conditioned reflex. When they think they're safe, they drop their guard."
Ok, i draw this back. His class? This kinda dope.
...
Clock crawled to 20:00.
Me and Toga were wrecks - reeked of exhaustion. Aizawa? Still looked half-asleep, zero pity for us corpses.
"Session's done," he said. "But..."
Fuck, the word "but" never means good news.
"Homework…"
I nearly yeeted the desk at him.
"Write a tactical breakdown of my fight with the Kidnapper Black Claw gang last year. Strengths, weaknesses, curveballs, solutions. Minimum 2,000 words. Due tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow!?" Me and Toga yelled in sync.
He raised a brow. "Want it bumped to 3,000?"
"…No, 2,000's fine," I sighed, doomed.
"Smart," he said, strolling out, leaving us drowning in despair. "Until semester's end, you're in every session. No skips."
I flopped into my chair, hands on head. "This bullshit's unreal…"
Toga faceplanted on the desk, mumbling - probably cursing up a storm.
Scratch that - I hate this crap.
...
We dragged ourselves out like zombies, drained to the core. No real break since we started, and worse? This torture's got two more weeks before finals. Life's a slog.
With Toga under U.A.'s special watch, Heights Alliance dorms popped up way earlier than the original timeline.
It's bigger than I pictured - five-minute walk from campus. Dead quiet since it's just us two right now, like some eerie liminal void. No one else, no room assignments yet - just us. Toga decided I'd crash in her room for now, though I didn't bring anything. No baggage, no prep.
We'd "lived together" at my place before this lockdown, so no awkward vibes. I'm laid-back, she's free-spirited - works fine...
Until I stepped into her room.
It's… a disaster.
First off, it's smaller than I expected - not a matchbox, but no palace either. Maybe 23 square meters, tops.
Then the chaos: clothes strewn everywhere, some with dried blood - swear there's a U.A. uniform she "borrowed" from who-knows-who in 1-A. Corner's a pile of knives, syringes, vials - some stained red and brown. Mini fridge? Packed with blood bags I'd drawn for her to keep her Quirk in check. Her bed's a mess of stuffed animals and blankets, and dead center on the wall? A board plastered with pics of me
Not normal pics - me cooking, passed out studying, fresh from a shower with wet hair. Plus, a life-sized teddy bear in a U.A. fit, rocking a black wig and my night-vision hero goggles - legit ones I'd snagged and forgot to return. No one'd notice one missing from the spares.
Yeah, we're dating, but… this is next-level weird, right?
I stood there, eyes darting, processing the madness. Took a deep breath, pointed at the cosplay bear: "Uh… what the hell's that?"
Toga, rolling in a blanket on the bed, popped up with an innocent grin. "I made it~! Cute, huh?"
"No," I deadpanned. "Looks like a cult prop." I eyed it again - those goggles staring back, creepy as hell.
I reached to yank them off; Toga leapt, hugging it. "Nooo! Don't ruin my bear! It's 'you' number two!"
"'Me' number two my ass," I muttered, dropping it, not diving deeper into that pit. "Give it back."
My gaze hit the photo board - chills again. "When'd you snap these?"
"Secret~! But no privacy invasion, promise!" She grinned, though it didn't ease me. "You barge into my room and stare at me sleeping all the time anyway, right?"
"Fair… we're even," I scratched my head. "Still, a whole board?"
"Of course!" She hugged a pillow, cross-legged, eyes gleaming. "You're my everything! Without your pics, I'd feel so lonely!"
I shut up. Touched, sure, but a wall of me - candid shots I didn't even clock? Bit much.
Sighed for the n-th time, shifting gears to practical shit. "First off, you need clean this dump."
Toga puffed her cheeks. "Why? It's totally fine."
"Fine my ass," I crossed my arms. "Look at this floor - knives and needles everywhere. Step on one at night, and what next?"
She blinked, then nodded. "Hmm… fair… But you could carry me out! Like this!" She spread her arms, begging for a lift.
"Himiko… Just clean..."
"Ughhh… fine," she grumbled, slinking off the bed to pick at the mess. I knew she'd take forever solo, so I rolled up my sleeves to pitch in.
...
An hour later, the room was livable-ish. Toga sprawled on the bed, panting like she'd run a race; I slumped on the floor, wiped out to my bones.
"Aaaa~! So tireddd!" she whined, rolling around. "You owe me a reward!"
"Huh...?"
She tapped her cheek. "Kiss~!"
"Nope. I will give it to you later."
"At least a hug right now!"
"No." I stood. "Shower time."
"Hey, wait!" She bolted up. "Let's go together!"
You know what, this is...fine. We'd already crossed that line, so naked's no shock. The only problem? I've got no spare clothes, and hell no am I borrowing hers. It's too weird.
Or so I thought, 'til my brain caught up.
"Himiko, before you join, can you strip that uniform off your bear for me to borrow?"
Her head whipped around, eyes wide like I'd dropped a bomb. She blinked, glanced at me, then the bear cosplaying… me.
"You wanna… undress it?"
"Yep."
Toga went quiet for a beat, then clutched the teddy bear tight, glaring at me like I'd insulted a living saint.
"Nooo! That's my Mini-Ryuga! You can't make it strip in front of me like that!"
I raised an eyebrow, watching her hug the thing like it was a defenseless kid. "Himiko, it's just a stuffed bear."
"But it's my stuffed bear! And it's wearing your uniform! If you strip it… won't it be… naked in front of me?"
"So you'd rather I be naked in front of you after the shower, instead of that bear?"
My question froze her. Those golden eyes widened like she couldn't believe her ears, then narrowed with a sly glint as she double-checked.
"…What'd you just say?"
"I don't wanna spend whole night buck-ass nude. Hand over the bear's uniform."