Hero Course, Wednesday morning, 08:00 a.m.

Waiting for Aizawa-sensei, most of the class had gathered inside the classroom. Among them, Midoriya already had a lot to do. The previous day's intense afternoon training session had taught him plenty about his friends' fighting techniques and Quirk talents. Call it a competitive observation.

A penetrating fatigue had conquered and left him with writer's block the evening before; he'd spend any seconds of free time before class catching for lost time. Midoriya was writing down hero information in his notebook. Just like any normal day, his creepy habit of externalizing his thoughts through intense mumbling never failed to show up. His loyal audience was just as annoyed.

It took a skilled fighter like Iida to chop his way through the storm of hiraganas flying around every corner of the room, enough to teach the alphabet on a loop. His powerful Class Rep voice eventually stopped the curly-haired hero's train of thoughts.

"Izuku Midoriya! Drowning your classmates in letters isn't quite an unexpected behavior of a hero like you. Please, consider taking a break before I have to protect them from you."

His uncontrollable body twitching was as hilarious as ever. But the naïve, always-overreacting One for All Heir got up in less time than it took his analytical mind to form a battle plan.

"I'm so sorry, Iida-kun! I-I tend to drift a bit too far away when I overthink. Thank you for letting me know I was causing a nuisance."

His profound bow almost won his head a nasty bump.

"At your service." the Class Rep proudly said with a mission-complete level of satisfaction. "It is my duty to make sure every one of you is safe at all time. If you ever choke on your own thoughts, you can count on me to rescue you. And your classmates."

"Thank you for saving our lives!" Uraraka laughed from the other side of the classroom. "That was a close call."

The greenish student's freckled face turned deep red in awkwardness, and he waved his hands just as frantically. Recovery Girl's assistance was almost required to stop his nose from bleeding.

"Sorry, sorry Ochaco-chan!"

As a matter of fact, he felt like his hiragana-spitting mumbles had actually saved his life, by moving his unconfessed crush away to a safe distance from him. So close, too close! he had repeated himself, while the brown-haired girl had been running around him to find out what his writings were about.

Had she insisted any longer, the proximity with her delicate, adorable prominently-round face would have caused him to faint. Close call, indeed.

"By the way…" Iida added, his nose suddenly buried in Midoriya's notebook. "When I said it was my duty to ensure everyone was okay, it included you as well. And I'm worried about you, because of what you are writing about. Why on Earth is there a whole page dedicated to Minoru Mineta in your notebook?"

The entire class wholeheartedly burst into laughter at the mention of the undesired purple sheep. At least, there still was someone who cared about him. And the choice of Izuku Midoriya – an emotional, kind and caring hero always meddling in problematic people's lives – was logical. This funny fact drew unwanted attention over the One for All holder, causing the "Uraraka Syndrome" to return as his face reddened once again.

Midoriya quickly snatched the notebook from Iida's hands.

"W-wait, I can explain! I did it for every one of you, remember?"

With his usual flamboyant and prideful manners, Aoyama was quick to feel flattered and paraded his fancy persona around in the hope of drawing similar attention.

"I expected Midoriya to write about me, because I can't stop twin–"

"It's an honor, Deku!" Uraraka praised him, deepening the shades of pink on his cheeks. "But why Mineta?"

"Because everyone has potential. I take notes about heroes to know them and study them. And it happens that I was reviewing my notes about Mineta-san when…when…"

"I had a look at it." Iida gave himself up. "My apologizes, it was rude and invasive from me."

He took a bow in turn.

"Never mind, Iida-kun!" Uraraka reassured him. "One can't be as invasive as this guy, anyway."

Aoyama's closed smile twisted in irritation of being cut in the middle of a sentence.

"He can't spy on me, because I shine too bri–"

"Although I appreciate having a "fan" writing love letters about me, Sero interrupted, don't you think it's kind of cheating? Knowing everything about us would give you a great advantage if we were to compete against each other in the future."

Iida himself seemed to agree. In the past, he had challenged himself against Midoriya to grow stronger. But fighting him at a disadvantage was not fair.

"I assure you it's just observation!" Midoriya swore. "I've always been passionate about other people's Quirks. It's like birdwatching; only a hobby. I'd never use it against you, guys! You are my classmates and my friend, not my enemies. I'm not better than you and not trying to be."

Unbeknown to him, Bakugo Katsuki was angrily muttering about his childhood rival. You stupid, Quirkless wannabe! Goddamn yes, you are better. Why do you have to keep lying?

He already knew well-enough that Midoriya was All Might's successor and heir to the position of Symbol of Peace. And that was a big problem.

Back when his dreaded nerd-of-a-classmate actually was devoid of any power, Bakugo could still scream out loud how "highly" he thought of him and accuse him of being an impostor. Now that the truth regarding All Might's demise – and his rebirth with dark-green hair - was no longer a secret, blowing off steam on Midoriya just because he had trust issues was not possible anymore.

Regardless of how hollow the Grenade Boy had beaten him in their common childhood, he still couldn't put it behind him for a fresh start. Midoriya ended up overshadowing him and hogging the best words of praise for himself in a systematic way, no matter how hard the efforts. Even when lost in his thoughts, the innocent-looking hero was drawing attention unintendedly. Very muck unlike Bakugo, a more powerful but violent warmonger, who felt further at odd with everyone else the more his rival rose to popularity.

His ultimate reward – get to the top and be the best – was being confiscated to punish him for acting that way. His once most-despised challenger was always here to remind it.

In the meantime, Midoriya apologized profusely for the misunderstanding. He bowed down to the whole class.

"I appreciate and admire every single one of you. Just like Iida, I'm always eager to learn new things and I want to know more about you, so that I can better help and look after you when you are in danger. You are my friends, my best ones. And for the first time in my life, I feel…appreciated and accepted by my classmates. It never happened before, and I can't find a way to thank you enough for your trust and friendship. I owe you a good one! Gathering material about what you do is my way to keep records of your achievements, and better cherish them. You guys all deserve it, to exist forever and go down in history."

He was speaking from his heart. Although Bakugo looked askance and became upset at the indirect mention of his, and other middle school children's past mistreatments of Midoriya.

Truth hurt.

A moving scene of heartfelt applause ensued Midoriya's speech. Save for Bakugo, eighteen people sang the melody of acclaim in unison with their clapping hands. All six girl students joined their hands close to their chin in admiration. And the boys were stirred to tears.

"Attaboy, Midoriya!"

"How cute of you!"

"You too can't stop twin–"

"We love you too, pal."

Eijiro Kirishima victoriously raised an arm with a closed fist, wiping his wet eyes in emotion.

"That was the manliest thing I've ever heard!"

"And the friendshipest."

"Well-said!"

Iida had a hard time concealing his unhardened reaction, tilting his glasses up and down to dry his tears. He almost felt undeserving of having been designated as a Class Representative by Midoriya, who had won the most votes by a landslide. The large-eyed, universally-loved hero really was an angel. A naïve one, but an angel anyway. And Iida promised himself that he would be up to the task and prove worthy of appearing in Midoriya's book.

One particular classmate turned out not so happy about it.

"Damn Deku…"

The main involved individual turned his disbelieved eyes at Bakugo.

"What's wrong, Kacchan?"

Midoriya immediately regretted his dangerous decision to ask him a question.

From the moment the explosive hero's lips separated, absurd accusations and allegations flew thick and fast. It was not the usual flock of Deku-bashing insults though. His childhood bully was once again declaring him a pathetic copycat. Yelling as he knew best, his pithy words implied that Midoriya had always been trespassing on Bakugo's territory, getting in his way and stealing other people's success for himself. Only to better play the grateful hypocrite who'd owe a lot from his "friends" afterward. Just another common rant motivated by envy and inner insecurities.

But before the Grenade boy could add that the glory thief pretended to be someone he wasn't, Midoriya summarily interrupted him without being too rude. For fear of having his One for All secret inadvertently betrayed, like Bakugo often did when wrath possessed him.

"Kacchan…I promise that I wrote nothing bad or wrong about your fighting style that I would use against you. If you want to check, please have a loo–"

The impulsive boy brushed the notebook away with his burning-hot hand.

"I don't give a shit." he cut him off. "If you really became that strong stealing others, then why not decide things now, huh? I'll crush you here and now. So don't be a wimp and let's duke it out!"

Somewhere inside Bakugo's boiling mind, All Might Jr. had to prove his worth. He had better not be afraid to fight him or he would roast him on the spot. At least, that's how excitement and grudge made him feel. Until Iida stepped in.

"Bakugo! Fighting inside a classroom is prohibited. You've done enough disrespecting this academy and your classmates already. Get a grip on yourself."

"Get out of my way, or I set you on fire before I ruin that little nerd."

Nothing would stop him from going to the bottom of this. But his dark-blue-haired opponent held steady with no signs of hesitation in sight.

"The way you behave is the very reason why Midoriya is your complete opposite. Your classmate is always kind, calm and collected. He can solve conflicts without a fight, where you always start them. There is absolutely nothing Midoriya would ever want to copy and draw inspiration from about you. Nothing."

The room became deathly quiet. The worst was feared from the volatile antihero. But instead of running mad, assisted by his infamous fits of rage punctuated with vulgar language, an eerie smile budded on his face as a way of intimation. He ignited his nitroglycerin sweat, creating small and controlled explosions underneath his closed palms, openly defying the Class Rep.

Die, die, DIE! he thought with all his might.

As expected, when Bakugo failed to contain his violent behavior, the class reacted negatively and fearfully to him showing off his Quirk out of frustration. To their great relief, the fierce hot-head called it quits. He turned away, his hands nonchalantly rested in his pocket, and sat back on his chair with only a scornful sigh out of his mouth that passed unnoticed.

What was the matter with him, this time? Being negatively compared to his arch-rival. This nuisance of a classmate, the most authentic pain in the neck, was stealing his show over and over.

But what kind of show? Making a scene like a spoiled brat?

Since his entrance into U.A., and his experiences of bitter defeat by the hand of Deku himself, the antagonistic student had gradually grown more mature. He knew what was the cost of giving in to his anger. For starting up a fight in a classroom, he'd have more chances of being expelled than this Mineta loser following a harem orgy during a biology course.

Similarly to the grape-haired small boy, did Bakugo really have what it took to be a hero? Both Iida and Midoriya were right in their own way, while his own anger was illegitimate. Although the wounds in his pride would never let him admit it.

The reason why Midoriya surpassed him probably was a good one. Bakugo was as fearful of the One for All Heir's exponential development as he judged it unfair. But nothing prevented him from making peace, patching up old wounds and drawing a line under it. With their rivalry in the past and their friendship built back up, they could be one hell of team and make rapid progress in their respective budding careers. It was his job, his responsibility to overcome his demons and make the first step to reconciliation.

He was aware of it.

The origin of this realization dated back from the failure of his Provisional Hero License, and the rescue exam that was supposed to teach him empathy in the contact of children. "Don't look down on others because then you would never acknowledge your own weaknesses." It had been his teaching of the day to a future Bakugo in the making, just because he knew being himself wasn't a solution.

Now he was that very same arrogant kid being lectured. It didn't feel pleasant at all.

"Not you too, Mina!" Midoriya exclaimed with an annoyed face that said "back off".

The pinkish girl's hand was craving for the notebook, her break-dancer arms twisting round Midoriya to seize it like it was her best friend's diary.

"Don't you think I have the right to know how much you think I'm hot?" she proclaimed with an impish, devilish smile. "Come on!"

This didn't help the boy with his blushing issues. He was not the best at lying.

"Y-you can't. I…I haven't finished yet."

"Yeah, sure thing. But don't forget that I can still dissolve a page in a snap of the finger, if I don't like what's written on it.

"I'll try to remember it…"

Ashido seemed to give up. Midoriya lowered his guard, gasping in respite. Asui took advantage of his slackening, grabbing the notebook she also had her eyes on with her tongue.

"That's a lost cause!" the boy sighed.

The frog girl plainly ignored the page dedicated to herself. Instead, she turned the pages until she found one with a purple-colored drawing. As she caught a glimpse of what she was staring at, Yaoyorozu couldn't contain her bewilderment.

"What's got into you?" she shouted at the top of her voice, half-seriously.

"I'm being curious, kero."

"How weird!" Yaoyorozu commented. "It's like I invited you to my parent's house, and you chose the worst book among the huge collection of masterpieces in my private library!"

This earned her a bunch of warm but jaded looks. She's still casually slapping us with the huge difference in how we were born. And we still don't care.

Most agreed that she was just singing everybody's praise like Midoriya, by singling out the lonely filthy grain in the batch. Others thought a certain Shining Hero had slipped under her skin and she was bragging about her wealthy background.

"Asui-chan, could you show me what kind of merveilleux content says about me, s'il-te-plaît? Aoyama asked. It's facile to find, just look to the part that shines the bri–"

"Mineta's page is almost empty." Asui noticed. "Just a picture of him and a few words."

She was once more tipping her finger against her mouth, evidence that she was analyzing it.

"It's hard to admit, but even I haven't a lot to say about him." Midoriya confessed like it wasn't normal, scratching his head. "To be honest, I don't know him very well."

Talking about Mineta wasn't an easy subject. Outspoken Froppy wasn't in the mood to shy away from it, not since it had started bothering her. Midoriya had just mentioned the word "honesty". A door opener for Asui.

"How are you and Mineta related, Izuku-chan?"

"Err…you mean, our relationships?"

"Kero." she nodded positively.

"We're in good terms and get along well. But beside this, I don't have much to say about him, except that he spends his time talking about girls and, you know…doing his questionable things." he managed to say, more embarrassed than ever. "All I know about his "hero side" is mainly based on what I saw from the observation room, during the Final Exam. And, well…sometimes I feel like I know more about his "spying techniques" and inventiveness in peeping through holes that anything else…"

Iida took part in the conversation again.

"Now that we're at it, what are your views on…Mineta's ways?"

Judging by the storm of impatient looks around him, the One for All Heir had to pick a side. As he didn't want to offend his gravity-bending crush in the least, he was quick to choose.

"I do not approve. Not at all!" he affirmed more easily. "I'm even worried about him. If he goes one like this, he might not get his Hero License…or worse."

His opinion was universally agreed to and his potential love story was saved. At the same time, Bakugo looked at Midoriya out of the corner of his eyes. For an unknown reason, he felt targeted by this statement disguised as a warning. He and Mineta's stories were not so different. Both were special cases; aloof antiheroes, lone wolves with inner wounds and solitary freaks that disturbed the entire world with each new breath. Regardless of their motivation and moral beliefs, neither of them seemed to have a brighter future ahead, as long as they followed their respective paths.

But it didn't matter. Never would Bakugo drop down to Mineta's level. He still had potential, a reason to be, the drive to change, material for redemption and skills to develop. Nothing that sticky-ball thrower would ever have.

"You look sad, Midoriya-kun!" Ashido asked worriedly.

"I feel concerned about him, that's all. It's really too bad that he does what he does."

She kindly patted his taut shoulders. What a pity, she thought. Damn you, Grape Juice.

"Don't burden yourself with that, Midoriya." Uraraka insisted. "You can't help everyone."

"But he's one of us!" Midoriya deplored, his sad-looking face bringing further resentment at the grape boy. "Mineta sits in the same room, just behind my chair, and there's nothing I can do!"

"It already takes an entire class to tolerate him, so why should it become your problem?" Hagakure added. "There's no point in carrying it all by yourself. He's what he is and it doesn't look like we can help it. Just accept it and care for yourself. If he can't change it, nobody will."

On the comforted hero's face, a flash of lucidity emerged among the wrinkles of sadness and despair, enlightening his spirits. The girls had guessed right. Even though there could inspire sympathy from time to time, Mineta was responsible for what he had become. Hoping against hope was counter-productive. It was his own fault, not Midoriya's for not being hero enough to keep himself on the right track.

Too bad for him.

As far as the others were concerned, hearing a rare, precious gem of tolerance like Midoriya accepting that Mineta could be spoken ill of, or just considered as he was with no sugarcoat, set many tongues wagging.

"For lack of content on Mineta's page, why not play a game like finding Special Moves to protect ourselves from his pervy attacks? " Yaoyorozu suggested, a sadistic but still benevolent sidelong look darkening her eyes. "In a respectable, heroic way of course."

Many people raised their hands at the same time, more than the best teacher in the universe could ever have wished for.

"I've got plenty of ideas." Kirishima started. "Like the Grape Destroyer."

It sounded like an attempt at seducing Bakugo by showing the brutal side of his manliness.

"I said "heroic". I still like it though."

Kirishima scraped his temple, searching his imagination for more examples with limited results. His Quirk was not the best source of stimulus. Mineta's got enough problems with some parts of his body "hardening" inappropriately and being a flagrant crime, "Little Mineta" as he calls it. Better sit it out.

"The Scum Wrapper." Sero proudly suggested. "It traps him like a spider's prey in a prison cocoon for recidivist pervs. If he starts talking garbage, all I have to do is tighten the cellophane and cut his breathing."

"Nice one, Hardcore Tape. A bit excessive, but I'm accepting it for his dirty trick on us at the Sports Festival. As long as it doesn't kill him too much." Yaoyorozu decided, writing it on a rough paper. "Next."

"The Not-shining Star."

For once, people listened to Aoyama and let him finish. Some even joked around, realizing he could be funny once in a while.

"Interesting. Next."

"The Mineta Overshadower." Fumikage Tokoyami suggested.

"Good one, fits your Quirk well. Any others?"

"Hmm…Pervert Smash?" Midoriya timidly suggested on the spur of the moment.

It was deliciously violent and amusingly inappropriate from an innocent mouth. Was it the name of an American City, a not-for-real suggestion for the fun or what Midoriya actually thought of the Prince of Perverts? Even Iida, not so approving but secretly pleased, enjoyed the thought.

An unexpected player joined the game.

"Mineta Killer! Die, purple Punk!" the Grenade Boy listed.

Bakugo's voice was embittered; targeting Midoriya with such pejorative surnames would have been funnier. Everybody glanced at him oddly, although shameless peals of laughter escaped.

"It's kinda extreme, but I get the idea." Yaoyorozu sniggered. "You should try again…with a softer touch. He's a pervert, no a monster."

"Mineta burner!"

Sero couldn't contain himself.

"Couldn't expect anything else from Lord Explosion Murder." he jeered.

"Shut up, or you will burn first!"

But he didn't go berserk. Without realizing it, even Bakugo liked this entertaining distraction. Not because he hated Mineta, but unloading all his anger on someone who wasn't here helped him feel better. A blessing in disguise.

"Wine Freezer." Todoroki unexpectedly said, the latest to get caught up in the game.

"It wouldn't have aged well anyway. Excellent one! Who's next?"

Against all odds, most of the girls were not so convinced – not even at ease with this kind of game which was, in a way, more pervert than its main protagonist.

"Purple Lightning Rod." Kaminari finally offered.

Even him.

"Hmm…why not?" Yaoyorozu assumed, still doubtful.

"It's because purple bolts of lightning are, you know….the "hottest" ones?"

When they understood that the Blonde boy was mocking Mineta's ambitions with girls and self-thoughts about his physical attributes, the class erupted in laughter and Jiro barely escaped death by suffocation. An infrequent occurrence of him making her laugh without a dunce face.

And so it went on.

He was closely followed, and supposedly monitored by their unsmiling, poker-faced teacher behind his back. Upon noticing his unappealing gait as he came in, the scurvy booing and mean-spirited comments ceased to exist like it never happened.

"Chit-chat time is over. Let's make it quick." Aizawa-sensei declared with his deadpan voice of his.

"Yes, sir!"

The remaining class time elapsed without anything worth mentioning. Save for one thing.

Of all moments they had spent together, Midoriya couldn't recall the last time he had seen his purple classmate so nervous and tortured. Mineta had a really hard time staying calm and focused during Aizawa's lessons, much to the latter's annoyance. Usually lazing around and waiting for the end bell, the kid had spent all his time shaking like he had caught a fever.

Something was tormenting him deep inside and nobody could tell what it was. Not that they should have cared the least in the world. But they probably did, against their instinct of survival that clearly ordered them not to meddle in Mineta's personal struggle. He already was enough of a problem when he was fine.

Mineta thus became the central, unintended subject of observations and attention in the classroom, whenever the weary teacher didn't pay attention. Or so he pretended.

What's happening to you, Mineta? Asui thought. The same interrogation crossed the minds of most people around, whether as a worry or irritation.

At one point, he barely refrained from laughing on his own. Had he been talking to himself out loud, like he often did when plotting a plan, it'd have flown under the radar. But smiling and chuckling nervously, if not hysterically all while trying to hide it, was not so common. Except, perhaps, in the mouth of villains.

But he wasn't a villain. Or, was he? Having once again eavesdropped on his "friends" at the worst time ever, the question of what kind of person he was still mattered. And he couldn't erase their hurtful words out of existence. He just couldn't.

Scum Wrapper. The sheer vision of the hilarious face Sero had pulled, while improvising this Special Move, cracked a smile on his trembling mouth. Luckily for him, those who noticed the faint rictus didn't take it like he was mocking them. They just thought he was crazy. Fair enough.

Grape Smasher, a bit crude but still understandable coming from Red Riot, always faithful to his manly appetite for a fight. This Special Move sounded logical. Every time Mineta's behavior had turned sour, physical punishment had been a default choice to rein him in.

Purple Light Rod, quite an original find with a foretaste of betrayal. Thanks, Denki.

Mineta Killer was his favorite. And the proof – Bakugo style – that one wouldn't need imagination to speak his mind, but only to say what was on it.

He didn't remember all of them. No problem, it'd be Yaoyorozu's pleasure to forward him the complete list on a clean copy. And he would happily read it again and again until he starts feeling the effects of these imaginary hits for real.

"Are you done slacking around?" Aizawa rebuked his inattentive student. "I'm talking to you, Mineta."

His inexplicable attitude was raising whispers of concern among his peers, disturbing the class. The purple troublemaker briefly collected himself and sat up straight.

"Yes sir. Sorry, sir."

He didn't even raise his head to look at Aizawa in the eyes, too busy dealing with his unruly nerves. Conversely, the teacher invested no energy in giving him another warning. A few minutes of observation had been sufficient to come to the conclusion that no matter the threat and subsequent promises, Mineta would do it again soon enough. The boisterous student was prey to some kind of weird, unusually disturbing behavior. Patience was required.

The true licking into shape would come after class.

03:00 p.m. End of the lesson. General release. Everybody left, except one.

"We need to talk, you and me."

"Yes sir."

By "talk", Aizawa meant a speak-and-listen, one-sided admonishment. He had no intention of giving the grape-haired boy a single time of speech. Saved for a couple of "Yes, sir" for the hierarchical part, and positive nods of acceptance as lip service.

"What is wrong with you, boy?"

No answers, head lowered. He perfectly knew already.

"I-I'm–"

"Sorry? It's a bit late for that. Losing concentration in class is alright when it doesn't happen again, but do you have any idea of how many complaints I've received about your behavior, starting with your classmates?"

"Wait–"

Mineta lifted his head up, saw Aizawa's eyes turn red in Erasure mod and lowered it back down until he felt invisible.

"A lot. An awful lot. For a normal high schooler in a standard school, it's already too much. But a Hero academy? Unacceptable is a damn understatement. When you signed into U.A., there was no box to tick that would allow you to harass your female classmates. Repulsive behaviors are good for villains, not heroes. I'm sure you understand.

"Y-yes sir."

Mineta was now looking at his feet like they were the gateway to Heaven. Or maybe Hell.

"You're wondering why we never had this kind of conversation before? Well, for that matter, it turns out that I believed in you. Like in every one of my promising students."

That was a surprise. Aizawa-sensei, the scariest of all teachers, having faith in a pervert rot with virtually no redeeming features. Was it a reward, for he and Asui's contribution to saving Aizawa's life after his ill-starred game over by the claws of a Nomu? The last time the two of them had interacted, Aizawa had bent down to his level and said: "Don't ask if you can, say you will."

Long gone was that time when forgiveness still looked like an option. A feeling of death penetrated his heart. His course at U.A. High School had most likely been terminated already, and the pervy student would be thrown out for good before sunset.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. Don't get carried away."

"Sorry sir!"

"I believed in you, Mineta. I thought the lessons learned from your mistakes, along with their consequences, would grow some sense of respect in that grey matter of yours. That's the purpose hardships of Hero Course serve; beating some maturity into young minds having issues with life. I was obviously mistaken."

The past tense said it all.

"Aizawa-sensei…"

"You're not going to be expelled, if that's what you fear."

His heart was beating so fast it could have burst out of his chest, as though a certain pink-furred Alien Queen had her laid eggs inside. Upon hearing the good news, it decelerated and almost left him in cardiac arrest.

"T-thank you…" he murmured as a reflex, catching his breath.

"Nobody's perfect and many of your peers have their own demons to deal with. However, most of them are doing way better than you. So don't fool yourself. Back when you were introduced to the dorms, I clearly warned you that I excepted you to behave yourself. You said "yes" but didn't comply in the end. Today, I'm going to infringe my own rules and repeat myself. Once."

Mineta waited in obedient silence, his sweat-soaked face turning pale. The strict teacher's shadow loomed over him like imp-eating jaws. He let out an uncompromising warning.

"Behave yourself and don't overstep the line."

"Yes, s–"

"Say it. Now."

He gulped down.

"I will behave myself and not overstep de line."

In a split second, Aizawa was crouching down to Mineta's vision line and looking daggers at him, filling his eyes with raw terror. He was frozen on the spot, unable to take a step back.

"This is your last chance, kid. Next time I look at you like this will be before you leave this facility, permanently. Understood?"

Mineta's voice jammed in his throat. A timid nod was all he could offer. Enough for the teacher, as he promptly saw him off like a naughty teen sent to his bedroom.

The boy ran for his life.

Back to his office desk, Aizawa was passively enjoying a late coffee – and about to leave - when Principal Nezu came in. Finding his teacher sitting in a chair, and not simply laying inside a sleeping bag, enlarged his smile.

"Good evening, Aizawa-sensei! How was your day with Class 1-A?"

"Long and boring."

Staying true to himself, Aizawa bore the same stern, apathetic expression with no filter installed on the flow of his words. But his superior had no trouble reading between the lines, as expected from those who knew him well.

"Everything went smoothly today, I concur…"

Nezu interrupted himself, as the picture of a 1m08 meter-high boy – posing in U.A. uniform - caught his attention on the screen of Aizawa's computer.

"…except, maybe, for a certain troublemaker?"

It was Aizawa's last "boring" task of the day. Reviewing his students' progress on a daily basis, entering numbers – mainly grades and rankings – into the high school database, and updating each student's individual record when necessary.

Mineta Minoru had come last, saving the b…worse for the end.

"Let's say I had to set some records straight. The hard way." he sternly commented, without far all that dwelling on it.

Aizawa had already proven to be quite vocal and outspoken about his student's mistakes. A demanding teacher of very high expectations, he'd spend hours after class debating - with himself - the slightest "defect" or most insignificant mishap that needed correction.

The pale-skinned man was not afraid to voice concerns about the smallest things, mainly because he wanted the best for his class. If judged necessary, he would not hesitate to make a big issue out of a small one, to better push his students higher to outperforms themselves and overcome their flaws. Aizawa had little patience for repeated failures, and even smaller tolerance when said mistakes were intentional. He was a rigid person, who would go so far as using intimation, manipulation and threat to propel his students to the top.

It would have been logical for Aizawa to be particularly concerned about Mineta's performance, both as a hero and an alumni. But the teacher of worn-out appearance didn't look so sure of himself regarding the unconventional boy.

"Something's wrong?" the animal-shaped Principal asked, agitating his hands before Aizawa's fatigued black eyes in an eccentric way. "Shall I call the police?"

"You are not funny…"

"I know. That's why I'm asking you again. What's wrong?"

Nezu had that typical sweet, polite voice that would make a stressed crime suspect feel confident. Although it suffered from no innuendo, as Aizawa clearly got the message and promptly told his Principal the whole story: how he had made Mineta believe that the school had received complaints about his behavior, whereas his behavioral records were blank for the official part.

The pervy boy had already been the subject of verbal comments from his classmates – many times. But like Bakugo or similar headstrong individuals, none of them had actually taken the time to report it to the appropriate authority. Hence the administrative vacuum.

But for his own sake, Aizawa had made up a story to pretend otherwise and trigger a reaction from Mineta – hopefully positive.

"I guess it does not change much from your…personal, out-of-the-box pedagogy."

Save for this time, Aizawa had doubts. Was it really the best way to change one of his students for the best? Wouldn't it cause a chain reaction of unknown consequences?

The relations between the purple sheep and the rest of the herd had gone from bad to worse. It was far from improving and the more he taught them, the clearer he could see it. As a shepherd himself, Aizawa saw Mineta's chaotic social interactions declining day after day. Not to mention his average journey as a hero. Before it turns into the beginning of the end, he had to take action.

But it would be a risky move.

Yaoyorozu sat tiredly on the sofa, on her own in the shared living room.

"Just give me a minute."

It had been a long, painful day of continuous training and mental exercises. Even for a brilliant-minded student with an unparalleled memory and supreme intellect. She was now as unkempt and flat-eyed as her own teacher, her messy hair spiraling around in tornado-like patterns. In her hands was a piece of paper with rough, unfinished notes on it.

What was I thinking? It's ridiculous.

Talking rubbish in Mineta's back, while in class and dressed in uniform, was definitely unworthy of her and her classmates. It soiled the glory and honor of their school. Worse, it lowered her self-esteem, as she had behaved in an inappropriate way, and leveled them all down to their target's own mediocrity. It was nothing close to usefulness. Nothing to be proud of.

That's what happens when I don't sleep properly at night. I mess up.

And the aforementioned boy could have heard it all, leading to potentially-disastrous fallouts. Thank goodness, he was no better than them. In the worst-case scenario, it would only require a few functional neurons for Mineta to understand that keeping his mouth shut – and letting it slide - was his only option. He would certainly not stick his oar in, boldly asking for explanations and apologies. No, he wouldn't.

That wasn't so bad. She just had to convince herself.

"Are you comin' or what?"

Ashido, along with the other girls, were returning upstairs for bedtime. Tomorrow would be another hard-working day and sleep was a delicacy. She got up, joined them, reached for the elevator buttons and pressed. No, it still wasn't so bad.

"Wait!"

That voice. That creepy, high-pitched voice. They turned back in unison. A restless Mineta was running after them like a marathon runner close to the finish line. He'd reach them before the doors open.

And here he was. Oh no…