Uraraka sprinted down the hall, looking for her classroom. The girl was grateful she decided to wear short black shorts under her skirt. The dark teal skirt casually would fly up as she ran, and without the shorts, it would leave much to the wandering eye. 'Class 1-A. Class 1-A! Class 1-A! Where is it?' She skids to stop in front of a door at least three feet taller than she is. Ochako stares in amazement at the size of the door. What would her classmates be like? Would they like her? What did the year have in store? Who is her teacher?
Her grip on her backpack tightens as these questions and more swirl around her head until a voice interrupts her thoughts."Why don't you stop procrastinating and go inside?" Uraraka looks around in surprise for where the voice is coming from. "Down here." Wide-eyed, the brown-haired girl looks down at a long black-haired man in a yellow sleeping bag. He unzips the sleeping bag and steps outs while Ochako continues to stare in surprise. "I said why don't you go inside." The girl shook her head to snap out of her trance and turned around to open the door.
The students slowly quiet down as a brown-haired girl and black-haired man who just walked into the classroom. Ochako quickly hurried to her seat and sat down while the man stood by the door, sleeping bag still in hand. "It took eight seconds for you all to shut up. That won't work. Time is precious, and rational students understand that," the man spoke in a monotone voice. He had heavy eyebags, clearly noticeable by the class, and a stubble evident on his face. He wore black, baggy clothes, a belt with grey pouches, black combat boots, and a grey scarf. The man's long-black unruly hair went everywhere, and some parts covered his face. He looked like a hobo, tired, unwell, and unkempt. "My name is Shota Aizawa, and I'm your teacher."
Shock filled the classroom. Everyone was staring wide-eyed, except for the teacher, whose stoic face remained unfathomed. 'This guy's our teacher!' Whispers erupted from the students, angering Aizawa. But, he did not have time for this; he had to teach this class of future heroes and work on the missing kids' cases. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't have time for this, so let's get to it." He reached into his sleeping bag while he continued, "Put these on and head outside." He pulled out a navy blue jacket from his sleeping bag, accented with white and red stripes. All the students stared blankly for a few seconds before complying.
A deflated All Might sits at a desk in another room, remarkably different from the desks in any standard classroom. To his right, colorful books line and fill the wall. A pencil-yellow suit covers his frail body, accompanied by a royal blue tie and a white dress shirt. He reads from a book with "SECRET" plastered across the front. "UA's course doesn't follow the normal academic path," he clicks his tongue in slight annoyance, "Get the wrong homeroom teacher, and life is hell."