A/N: OK, I was suppose to make another one of my smart, comedy gold jokes here, but the deletion of my last "chapter" (notice, whatever) made the site think I updated it, and now it forced me to apologize for the false update. I wish I knew that was how it worked.
So yeah, sorry about getting your hopes up for nothing.
Now that I know, I realize why many people prefer AO3. Maybe someday I'll make an account on that site to post my fic, maybe not. Although I'm leaning on 'no' at the moment, for one reason only:
Too much gay… that's it… not that I have anything against it, it's just not my cup 'a tea.
Anyway, about the "impasse", thanks to the comments of SparkFlameHero1, Victorsmyname and MasterOydessy, I have reached the final decision on Netsui's class placement.
I hope you enjoy the chapter, seeing as something like this is rare, despite the fun you can have imagining these secondary characters and their uniqueness.
Oh well, can't ask for everything.
He stopped, planting his feet firmly on the ground beneath the arching gate, his sparsely torn purple backpack strap hung loosely on his right shoulder, being propped up by the teen's thump into place. His grey, full-length jacket with blue stripes across the shoulders, wrists and chest folds was left completely unbuttoned, revealing the standard white shirt that came with the rest of the school uniform, along with the red necktie adorning his collar.
The dark teal colored pants he wore displayed visible wrinkles on the back of the knee and feet, being evidence that a certain airhead individual had worn it to test it out during the wait until the first day of the heroics course, and forgotten to iron it after its all day use. A mouthful from an older, hormonal, unwelcome-in-his-abode - his words, not anyone else's - woman was embedded in his skull to forever remind him of that occurrence.
The same woman had also forced him to shave off the beard he was growing for two long years - and by force, he meant she used her quirk on him and shaved it off in his sleep - , so as to "not make his new class think he was some dirty hobo off the streets", as she so elegantly put it when he woke up. He later went on to make her beloved cat urinate on her hero costume as the ultimate form of revenge.
He had yet to hear anything from her about it.
'As much as I despise admitting this, I agree with Kayama-san. This outfit cost us a fortune, it would spell bad omens upon us if we were to ruin it right away,' Akuma informed in the boy's mind.
'Oh be quiet, you say that to anything over 10,000 yen. You weren't the one paying for it either,' Netsui interjected.
'Of course not, how preposterous. Do you expect an entity that exists only in the mind of lazy teenager with too much free time to be responsible for his finances?' the disembodied voice retorted.
'Then why're you even bringing this up?' he asked exasperatedly, ignoring the playful insult.
Akuma heaved out. 'It's merely something to keep in mind,' he thought out in a matter-of-factly. 'Since you plan on growing into a heroic mindset, you must always be mindful of collateral damage at all times,' he concluded in a fatherly tone.
'Says the guy who seconded the cat piss plan,' he deadpanned.
'That was entirely within reason,'
Netsui rolled his eyes at his friends overly-protective nature. Knowing Akuma as much as he knew Netsui, the mental roommate wouldn't let up anytime soon in respects to his health and future, like an overprotective mother. It was appreciated however, and he wouldn't have it any other way, though he could tone it down at times.
He took a prolonged whiff of the spring air, breathing in the pleasant and very exclusive aroma of school grounds into his nostrils, a much more welcoming experience than what he endured at home.
A cackle escaped Netsui's lips, hands on his hips and standing confidently on his spot at the gates, as he managed to snatch his dream of entering the school. The once intimidating entrance gate and gigantic buildings had all but lost its original grandiose distinction in the eyes of the curious teen, being replaced by magnanimous accomplishment.
Only 36 people pass the entrance exam every year. That is a less than 1 in 300 chance someone will pass - and Netsui was one of them. Just imagining the look on the faces of the people who knew him finding out about his acceptance made him sigh in content. He'd pride himself with that image for weeks to come. Netsui pondered on whether the vine girl passed and was in his class.
Shaking his head out of his daydreaming trance, Netsui paced himself towards the main door of the allotted course building. The journey was a bit of trip to the teen, having never been to someplace this big in his entire life left him with a minor anxiety forming at the pit of his stomach.
On his way to Class 1-B, he familiarized with his surroundings, taking in the few other students occupying the hallways, talking amongst each other, all of them with smiles spread on their faces. He could hear the back and forth congratulations and the gossip about others' entrance to the school, particularly from a louder pink skinned girl on her phone, flailing her arms around in her excitement.
The multiple quirk user grinned and lightly chuckled, her enthusiasm contaminating his own psyche as she ended her call, her grin still strongly present. With a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders, he proceeded on walking as the pink girl skipped to greet another cheerful, redheaded student, who gawked at the frazzled, pony-tailed teen with a quizzical visage.
Reaching up the stairs to another floor, he continued his way to his classroom, stopping as he noted the right side of the building was barred by a railing, preventing anyone from breaking or touching the large windows that gave him a clean view to the outside.
So far, the school had surprised him with the immensity of the city-replica in the entrance exam, now it blew his expectations as he witnessed the abundant vegetation around the buildings. Even Akuma was impressed; for months he thought the praising the hero faculty got was blown out of proportions by the eccentric folk, but what he was seeing clearly denied that entirely.
Now he understood his father's jubilance at his acceptance.
"DAD! I'M GOING TO U.A!"
"THAT'S MY BOY!"
"AAAAAAH!"
"AAAAAAH!"
"AAAAAAH"
Reaching his classroom - which wasn't difficult to see, the giant "B" painted on the fifteen foot monument of a door could be seen by the blind -, he braced himself with an inhale, mentally preparing for the upcoming interactions typical of any class. He slid the door to the side and stepped inside as the anxiety grew.
Netsui predicted being greeted by a cacophony of prying eyes and soft murmurs, anticipating the arrival of his classmates being prior to him. He felt surprised when, apart from the bulky teacher skimming through the desk papers that stared at the boy who entered, only four students in total filled the otherwise vacuous classroom; a kempt blond boy fondly looking out the window, head supported by a hand, and two girls conversing one-sidedly near where Netsui stood.
The three turned to the teen who entered the room, the girls pausing mid-talk while the blond tsked for a reason Netsui couldn't understand, before returning to their respective activities.
The teacher placed his papers on the desk, scratching his silver, spiky hair and picking up a clipboard and a pen on the side in the upper desk drawer. He glanced up at the teen.
"Good morning," he accosted monotonously, standing up from his desk, giving Netsui a glimpse of his hero costume. He wore a red and black spandex with silver knee-high boots, three-tier belt and wrist guards. On his left wrist guard was a tube connecting to the top of his spine. A gamboge colored mask adorned his face, covering just above his cheeks and nose. "Name please?" the teacher's tone was calm, but authoritative. His furrowed, vermilion eyes peered down at Netsui with an intensity that sent a shiver up his spine.
Swallowing a lump of nervousness, he grinned widely, masking his uneasiness. "Sh-Shinshi Netsui." he answered hesitantly, repositioning his falling backpack. Nodding, the teacher scribbled a quick check beside Netsui's name before sitting back down. Netsui took note of his new teacher's underbite and protruding canines as he picked an empty seat near the girls.
"Mind if I sit here?" he inquired the girl with dark, shoulder-length hair while tapping the table in front of her. With a curt nod, he sat down, letting his backpack fall to the table leg. "Thanks,"
Netsui relaxed in his chair, propping a knee on the chair, close to his chest and wrapping an arm around it. He rested on it, waiting patiently for the class to begin. From the look of things, it was going to be a long wait session, which meant he would be bored very quickly.
Which meant Akuma would be bored. Which meant more money talk. Which Netsui wasn't looking forward to. He struggled to understand what taxes were, he didn't want to do with anymore economical topics until he figured that out.
Fortunately, a gentle tap on his shoulder rattled his train of thought. Drifting his eyes to the source, he stared at the girl with strawberry orange hair and green eyes, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Hey, Shinshi, was it?" she half-asked, having heard the teacher announce his presence, before continuing. "You looked kinda lonely there. Wanna talk?" she offered, with the dark-haired girl nodding nonchalantly.
Netsui cocked a brow. Did he inadvertently make himself look lonely? "Oh, I did?" he asked rhetorically. "That wasn't intended, actually. I was just thinking about the entrance exam, is all. Sorry if I was bothering you," he lied apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, no, it wasn't a problem at all, Shinshi," she shook her hand, the other girl's head imitating its movement. "We were just talking about the same thing," she informed him. "I'm Kendo Itsuka, by the way," she motioned to her friend. "And this is Kodai Yui."
"Pleasure to meet ya, but please, call me Netsui. Shinshi is my dad's name," Netsui insisted.
Itsuka and Yui were taken aback by this, not expecting another student to want be treated so informally already. Normally, in typical japanese fashion, one would traditionally wish to be called by the family name, but not this boy. Maybe this was the american transfer student they were informed about. If so, he must have some stories to tell, but they digressed.
Nodding, Itsuka brought her head closer to him. "Have you heard about the incident at Battle Center D, about the girl with the cutting leg wind quirk?"
Netsui perked up at the odd choice of terms for the quirk description 'That's… unique,' He thought to himself. "D? I don't think I've heard anything about it," he mumbled. "Why? What happened?"
'I can hazard a guess, considering the portrayal of the quirk itself,' Akuma said, whispering the last part.
"She got kicked out mid-exam for going against the rules and acting like an anti-hero. I've heard the cops had to be called in to arrest her,"
"What?!" Netsui yelled, receiving a warning 'sh' from the teacher to quiet down. He complied. "Really? That's terrible!"
"Yeah, it seems that girl in Battle Center D injured multiple competitors and nearly decapitated one," she gossiped, the student in front of her cringing at the mental picture. "Apparently it cost most of them the shot at the heroics course. If Eraserhead didn't intervene at the time, she'd probably do some seriously irreparable damage,"
'This individual acted upon their 'anti-hero' tendencies. She sounds mentally unstable if this is accurate,' Akuma pondered, with Netsui listening intently on both the girl and his friend. 'From a child, no less. This little woman was most assuredly compelled by personal motifs - a grudge, mayhaps?"
'Maybe she was a two-bit criminal that just wanted some petty revenge out on the heroes, like a villain would," Netsui countered, worry overtaking him. 'I hope the participants are okay. God knows what it's like to face a psychopath like that,'
'Even so, we should have heard of this from Nemuri. She was a judge, after all,'
'That old hag!'
'Precisely.'
"Is something wrong?" the girl looked awkwardly at Netsui while her friend covered her mouth, giggling faintly. "You're making some really funny faces there,"
"Huh?" he asked innocently, but his expression made it seem like grumpy disdain, with his forehead and nose wrinkled, and a comically deep frown. He realized this, and softened his features. "Oh sorry about that, thinking again,"
"You do that pretty often, huh?" she tapped her chin, tilting her head.
"Kinda," he let out hastily, opting to bring back the subject. First day and someone already knew of his habit. 'New record, woo,' he thought, downtrodden. "Anyway, where did you get this info? I know one of the judges and she never told me anything about it."
"Kodai was assigned to the same battlefield, so she saw the commotion up close," she explained, a bit bitterly as she continued. "She nearly cost her this spot too," The bob haired girl nodded near her, agreeing with Itsuka. Yui still looked as uninterested as ever, but her eyebrows rose and furrowed slightly, indicating faint disquiet, Netsui thought.
"Netsui?" another female voice called out to him. It didn't sound like Itsuka, and Yui hadn't opened her mouth to speak so it must've been someone else. Pulling his focus, he caught the sight of the vine girl from exam at the door, surprised to the airheaded teen in her class. Accompanied her was a aggressive-looking, grey haired boy with thick, yellow eyelashes.
The male approached him first with stormy steps. "So you're the guy that pummeled that huge obstacle like it was nothing?!" he said, tone laced with ardor.
'Such an overstatement!'
"I… I guess so…?" Netsui became uncertain. 'Pummeled' was definitely not the word he'd use to describe his conduct against the robot. It might so happen that he was confusing him with the other student, but then again, who else could've destroyed that thing?
"Oh man, Shiozaki told me everything. Let me tell ya, if the heroes didn't split us up by partnerships, I woulda totally loved to see the fight. Ah! Why couldn't I've taken your place, Ibara?" he asked, irritated, turning to the vine girl.
Shiozaki Ibara. So that was her name. Netsui needed to remember that.
"Wait, you were the boy from Battle Center B, who took down the zero pointer with a single punch?" Itsuka adjoined her new classmates. Netsui went to answer but Ibara chimed in.
"No, we were in E. He broke it down with a conducting utility beam," Ibara clarified on Netsui's behalf. At this point, the blond boy has lost interest with the outside view, finding the discussion between the five to be much more entertaining, alongside a student with naturally wide pupils.
"Hold on, someone else wrecked that thing?!" the literal metalhead exasperated, mouth agape at the new information. Two people destroyed the 0P bot and he wasn't there for either of them. "God damn it, I missed out on so much! So unlucky!"
'Hmm, so there was another person that managed to destroy the behemoth,' Akuma pondered, with Netsui listening intently on both conversations from outside and inside. 'An enemy of that caliber couldn't possibly be brought down by a simple long or short-ranged quirk. Especially with a student's natural lack of quirk experience."
'They've gotta be in 1-A, for sure. If I beat that thing with difficulty and got here, then they did too, for sure,'
'One punch was all it took…' Akuma contemplated silently, trying to devise a possible theory for the aforementioned effortlessness the B Center student took, coming up empty in the end. 'What quirk is strong enough to inflict such destruction?'
"Alright, everybody settle down in your seats. Class is about to start," the rough teacher announced, breaking the multiple quirk user's inner dialogue. Somehow the rest of his course classmates made their way in and around him, talking amidst themselves as Netsui was becoming friendly with Itsuka and Yui. The way they managed to slip by Netsui's senses made him guess that at least one person in class had some kind of invisibility or phasing quirk, where they could pass through his sights without being seen. If he had to guess, it would be that guy whose mouth looked like a zipper.
The classroom, now packed with the 1-B roster of pupils, quieted down as per his request and intense gaze. "Before we start off, I'd like to formally congratulate you all on your success in the Entrance Exam," right after he said this, cheers resonated throughout the room, the class congratulating one another briefly before settling once more at the teacher's raised hand. "Yes, you're all among the thirty students to pass the highly demanding exam, something to be extremely prideful for. But don't think you'll be on easy street from here on out," the sudden shift in timber threw the class off, stiffening their bodies in fearful anticipation.
"I need you to take one thing into consideration about this school; just as you have all the freedom to use your quirks as you see fit - within boundaries, that is -, so does our style of education," he explained, peering around at everyone in case they let out a peep. "This is the Hero School of the highest prestige in the country, as well as a good portion of the world, for good reason. We only allow kids like you, with the greatest potential, to partake in this course and we plan to drive out that potential with rigorous and strict training regimens with very little breaks, if any at all."
"If you're here thinking that this is merely a higher level of education than any other high school, you're sorely mistaken. We expect much from you and we will do anything possible to meet and break those expectations. If you at any point in time during your stay here have any concerns regarding our so called 'unfair treatment' or 'tumultuous activities' we 'force' upon you, I have only one thing to tell you," he then motioned to the entrance to the classroom. "The door is that way. Hope you enjoyed your stay,"
A considerable amount of pupils shook at the lecture, the gravity of the situation hitting them like a ton of bricks. Beads of sweat dripped down their individual foreheads, eyes like pinpricks as they clung to the last bit of hope they had. Never in their life would they assume this would be easy, but hearing it directly from a Pro Hero of the difficulty drove the point home tenfold.
On the other hand, Netsui was in the same boat as his class, sweating profusely and audibly shaking, though for different reasons. If this school was as demanding as the teacher said it would be, he would have to pull out all the stops to ensure progress. He just prayed that he didn't have to resort to his other quirks too much.
The teacher, satisfied with the reaction of the crowd to the seriousness of the course, continued in a more positive tone that was lost among the nervous children. "Welcome to the Heroics Course. I'll be your homeroom teacher for this year - Kan Sekijiro, or as you may know me better as my alias, 'Blood King'."
A/N: Hey guys I might just make the AO3 account after all because I think I might get more attention than I do here. Which is great cause I like attention i'm an attention whore and im deprived of physical affection my family beats me up im a loser help *inner pain intensifies*.
I was also thinking about adding another scene that follows the end of the day, given that this isn't Aizawa's class and they might do the ceremony and shit but then I thought "Licking doorknobs is illegal in other planets" then I laughed at memes and forgot what my original plan was.
Just kidding, I didn't. I'm a genius after all
Come back next chapter where I'll be telling you all what kind of women I like. Stay tuned readers.