My afternoon classes were a fucking nightmare.

My chest had practically hummed with excitement to have the other half of Class 1-A prior to lunch with Toshi-chan, curious to learn their responses and effectiveness in the class activity.

Instead I received a bunch of dull stares and silence, awkward shifting and a lack of general effort.

They stuck all of the good kids in one class and the duds in the other. Great.

Sparky from before had no control over his outbursts, apparently, and the chronological line-up was a disaster. At every inconvenience Bakugo would break the silence and start shouting, which led to the red-haired one to harden his skin like an armadillo and shout back. I did notice a student silently communicating with the others, ushering them in directions without much effort. After lining the others, he froze Bakugo's feet in place (luckily on the linoleum and not one of my rugs) and led the others to line up behind him. His hair was split in half like a comic book character and not once did he smile, but there was something kind of calming about him, too. I decided he was had potential of being not-horrible. Bakugo seemed almost sulky after the objective was met, as if he thought he'd be the one to finish first. Did he not even realize the point was to work as a team?

The verbal action of rearranging by food went a little smoother, again led by the shouting Bakugo and mellow-voiced iceboy, and within three minutes the line was complete. I let out a breath, thankful, and called them back to order.

"If you without abilities, such as talking, were able to carry out a task, why do we need those with quote-unquote "special" abilities at all?"

"Huh? What d'you mean?" The other blonde- Kaminari?- asked. I'd noted he'd sat rather close to a bored-looking girl with elongated earlobes, eyes dull and arms crossed, as if unimpressed by the world around her. Good luck with getting with that one, kid.

"I mean, if you applied the idea of this activity to the real world, you could logically note humanity's ability to adapt and respond to tasks and incidents themselves, regardless of overlying abilities such as quirks. Only one of you utilized a quirk for this activity, and even then it was simply to immobilize a classmate momentarily. So with this applied, is there even a need for heroes?"

The class fell silent. It could've been in the familiar stunned quiet as this morning.

It could've simply been because they didn't really give a shit.

A harsh, angry voice cut through then, as sharp as a blade.

"Don't be an idiot,"

Shit, do I call him out on his tone? The whole class turned to Bakugo, who looked more pissed than I'd ever seen him to date. His anger bit into my skin and I felt myself unnaturally cool, regulation hiccupping within my veins.

"Excuse me?"

"The world needs heroes to protect the weak, pathetic people who won't stand up for themselves. Screw your whole 'working together without quirks' bullshit; it wastes time and lives. If you're better than others or have a quirk that's powerful, you use it. Otherwise you're just as worthless as the rest of them."

I suddenly felt incredibly exposed, as if the heat from his glare had melted off my thin outer shell of protection. Is this...personally directed at me? We'd entered a staring match, slightly-widened eyes boring into the maddened eyes of a wild animal's. I took a deep, silent breath through my nose, slowing my heartbeat. No. There's no way he knows anything. He's basing this off the question and his own anger and mentality, nothing else. Keep your calm, do your job. Don't make this about you.

"So, should talented quirks be forcefully utilized? Would you support, for example, a law stating all persons with exceptional quirks must enlist in the hero force?"

"Yes."

"No."

The students looked at each other, surprised, and contentedness filled my pores.

"Who the hell said no?!"

"Bakugo, this is your only warning; bring down the explicit language."

"Who was it?!"

Several hands rose. Including, interestingly, the silent-working half-and-half from earlier. Bakugo seemed uninterested in the masked, multi-armed student, the girl with the earjacks, and the beige, large student whose head mildly resembled a boulder or their raised arms; instead he seemed personally triggered by the quirk-wielding boy with the different colored eyes. He was looking directly back at the practically-feral Bakugo, unmoved.

"Todoroki?! Of all the spineless idiotic bast-"

"Bakugo"

"Idiotic morons to disagree with a law like that, I didn't expect it to be you."

Todoroki continued to wordlessly stare on at Bakugo, unafraid of his classmate all but breathing fire in his direction. This brought the spiked blonde's rage level ten degrees higher. "What, you don't even have a defense for you bullcrap choice?"

Todoroki's gaze turned, finding myself watching with great interest from the front of the classroom. I felt my lips purse, mostly in smugness. Having a student agree with my personal opinion, even if I could never voice it during a lesson, was a trifle more delicious than I expected. After countless lessons in Methods and EdLaw, I knew better than to play favorites. Regardless, Bakugo wasn't in a position of power to demand an answer from another student- not in my class, anyway. "You are under no obligation to answer if you don't feel like it, Todoroki. This is a rather open class, and for now we're only focusing on what we're comfortable with."

"What?" Bakugo raged, slamming a fist into the table, "You're not gonna make him back up his stance? What kind of teacher are you?"

Ouch. "No, I'm not. He owes you nothing."

"So he can disagree in a class discussion, but doesn't have to back it up. You owe it to us-"

"I owe you nothing," I interrupted firmly. Bakugo was silenced; it was the first time I'd risen my voice more than a normal speaking tone, and the class seemed suddenly wide awake, attention pasted onto my face. I steadily looked on, hoping Bakugo would just self-calm so I wouldn't have to waste energy. "This class is going to be filled with questions and scenarios to help you grow and look outside your own perspective, Bakugo. Frankly, if you intend to shout and rage-quit every time you don't like a response or question, you're going to have a really difficult time in here."

I stood, glanced at the clock. "Besides, that's all the time we have today. Perhaps tomorrow Todoroki and the other will share their reasonings." I shrugged, smiling. "Or perhaps not. Ethics lesson number one: Regardless of how much power you possess, it is ill-advised and unethical to force answers out of non-threatening people. If you do, you're no better than the villains you want to defeat."


The final bell rang and I breathed easy for the first time in eight hours.

"Bye! See you tomorrow!"

Surprisingly, students responded to my calls. I received several small waves and returned pleasantries, smiles and even a comment on my lesson-game. Mixed with the excitement of the day ending, I was nearly giddy, even going to far as to smile at Aizawa when he glanced out his door. I wonder if he can see into my classroom from his.

I barely cared; I was still basking in the accomplishment of finishing my first day. Not a single injury, death, or total meltdown. I'd call that a success.

Tomorrow's lesson and the rest of the week's were all planned out, though I supposed I could get a head start on next week's. According the the guidebook all teachers received, we were to stay approximately half an hour after school each day in order to aid students. I straightened a few scattered pillows and turned my new doll just so, admiring its simple design and colors.

Momo constructed it effortlessly with her quirk, and yet it was a permanent creation that had brought joy to me. I debated putting it behind my desk, as opposed to the front, so it wouldn't get broken or harmed by careless hands or bodies aiming for seats. I carried it over to my chair, petting its perfectly-spherical head.
Half of my day had moved quickly; I'd blinked and the lunch bell had rang, noting half the day's end. The afternoon had been more of a struggle, Bakugo's tangible rage for those too "weak" to use their quirk, to protect others, had etched itself into my psyche and raised questions I hadn't personally thought about for quite some time. Generally, my lessons were directed from a textbook or class lessons I'd experienced in college; I'd hardly ever spent any time actually thinking about the questions or dilemmas for myself- this seemed an easy method to establishing a troublesome bias. The first half of Class 1-A had reacted in the logical, planned way, pensive and slightly dazed, unused to the hard-hitting ethics of heroism, choosing to momentarily chew over their answer before making a decision. Fifth hour's class, clearly, fell in a differing school of thought and method almost entirely.

One seemed obviously preferable.
One also seemed surprisingly interesting and...provoking.
This will be an interesting year, indeed.

A change on my computer drew my attention and I glanced up, still lost in a thoughtful daze.

Principal Nezu

Re: Trauma-Sensitive Teaching

Good afternoon! With the increase in need for professional development hours, I have taken it upon myself to find educational sessions for my teachers that will benefit their instruction and classes as a whole. As you both deal directly with students within the hero program, I thought it would be beneficial for you both to attend the seminar Trauma-Sensitive Teaching: Helping Students Overcome Adverse Experiences, in which the impact of traumatic experiences is scrutinized in relations to learning and the classroom experience. All expenses have been paid and substitutes have been notified. Below you will find the attached pamphlet on dates, commodities, and schedule. This is an excellent opportunity to grow as an educator of our young heroes.

I look forward to hearing about all you learn!

Principal Nezu

This is two weekends from now, I realized. The allotted amount of money per meal was mouth-wateringly high, and I envisioned myself feasting like a queen for an entire weekend. My stomach grumbled at the thought, unimpressed with the meager-in-comparison meal I'd had earlier.

Hotel- 180 x 2 - 360

Wait, what?
Why would I need two hotel rooms? I clicked back on the email, noticing Principal Nezu had, in fact, used the words "you both" several times.
I scrolled up to the recipient choice selection, stomach dropping.

Chiyo Tsutomi, Shota Aizawa

Suddenly this trip seemed significantly less appealing.