Chapter 3: Remnants

Gasping, Shiki runs through the door, skidding into his classroom. His bag, succumbing to gravity, slides down his arm, landing on his wrist. His shoulders relax as the bell rings.

"Safe" he breathes. Pulling his backpack back onto his shoulder, he strolls to his desk.

"Morning!" He exclaims, waving at the students sat at the numerous desks around his. A few students reply, mirroring the same enthusiasm. He high fives them before sitting down on his chair.

"Did you watch the news?" He asks, throwing his backpack on his desk.

"Oh yeah, the third disappearance?" A grey-haired girl, with a short pony tail, replies, "I heard they had just left school after their club."

"Oh Alice, I heard that as well." A pink haired boy joins in, "I heard they're in the track team!"

"Wait," Alice interrupts, "Bean, where'd you hear that? I heard they're in football. Track didn't have practice that day."

"Huh?" Beans questions, his pink hair slowly fades into a dark shade of yellow.

"It's okay Bean, you don't need to get so confused." Alice laughs.

"I'm not confused!" Bean pouts.

Alice raises her eyebrow, pointing at his hair. Bean glances up and pulls a small portion in front of his eyes. "Oh, you must be joking?" Bean groans, "Why must I have this quirk of all things?"

Everyone laughs, a few console him sarcastically by patting his shoulder, which he retaliates by slapping them away, making a few more laugh.

"Anyway," Shiki starts shaking his head, a smile still evident on his face, "you shouldn't listen to rumours. Stick to facts. How can we become heroes otherwise?"

Bean scoffs, his hair now fading back to his usual pink, "My uncle saved over twelve people based on a rumour." His cheeks puff in pride, "nobody believed him, but in that alleyway he-"

"Yeah, yeah, we've already heard this over a hundred times already." Alice snickers, ruffling his now yellow hair.

"Huh," Bean freezes, "you have?"

Alice groans, mentally facepalming, Shiki couldn't help but laugh.

After a few minutes of comedic banter, Shiki perks up, grabbing everyone's attention. "Wait, wasn't homeroom supposed to have started ten minutes ago?"

They all nod.

"Then where is Sensei?"

The class goes silent as everyone looks at each other for answers.

"Huh?" a student asks, "do you hear that?"

Shiki, along with Alice and Bean, tiptoe toward the sound. As they creeped closer, what first seemed like buzzing, turned into snoring. The three, now in front of the teacher's desk, lean over it. What greets them is a snoring Aizawa sensei, bundled up in his sleeping bag. His black, wavy and usually assumed unbrushed hair, protrudes through the zipper, dangling over faded writing which reads 'Love From Class A'. Shiki couldn't help but giggle at the familiar sewing technique evident on numerous places on the sleeping bag, a technique usually seen on his and his siblings' clothing.

Whilst they stare at their Sensei's daily antics, a student taps Shiki's shoulder, handing him a sheet of paper. "Oh, the register," Shiki exclaims, taking it from the student. Whilst writing his name, he couldn't help but overhear the other students complain about being stuck with Aizawa sensei. Dissatisfied, many argued over who would be better, but Shiki couldn't think anymore differently. After all, he was the teacher who nurtured and supported their Number 1 Hero after all, since the beginning.

He turned to the class, raising the register above his head. "Has everyone signed the register?"

Many nodded and went back to whatever they were doing. He noticed a couple people shaking their head, in a particular section of the classroom.

This particular section is what Shiki has been trying to avoid since the start of the year. He couldn't help but groan for being chosen as the class rep. He looks at that desk and takes his first step.

The first time he had entered UA, he was a nervous wreck. He had heard all the stories from his mother, about the legendary happenings that occurred in this classroom, never knowing that he would actually be stepping in there himself one day.

He was told the ins and the outs, the dos and the don'ts'. His mother was not strict about the dos as long as Shiki did his absolute best and of course, become number 1 in whatever it is that he wanted. Katsuki wasn't bothered about what his kids did, as long as they were safe and that they achieved number 1 in whatever they pursued. Shoto was no different. So, when Shiki was accepted in Class A in UA, Katsuki went crazy (a word Shoto would never use to describe his partner). He organised a big party and did all the cooking himself. Shoto had nearly lost his hand trying to assist him. Katsuki prepared him for everything, but now that he was stood outside the door to his homeroom, he began to panic.

He didn't really remember much, other than being ushered in the classroom by students screaming, 'Todoroki, Todoroki!' 'The Number 1 Hero!'. This didn't really surprise him, since he is the spitting image of his mother. But the moment he regained himself, he did the one thing his mother forbade him to do.

He looked.

He looked at that particular desk in a particular section of the classroom.

A particular desk that was once occupied by his father.

'Don't even dare look there!' His mother's voice echoed in his mind, the image of his father casually smiling behind him.

"Too late!" Shiki cried internally, as his eyes landed on a particular individual. It didn't help that he was later seated at his mother's old desk.

This is the particular individual that Shiki was currently walking toward, his hand tightening around the register.

"Sign it!", he slams it on the desk. The particular person, on this particular desk, had his head resting on his hand, whilst gazing at a blank ceiling, at nothing in well- particular.

He glanced at Shiki, a monotone expression on his face, before glancing down at the register. He grabbed a pen from his pocket and wrote his name. The moment the pen left the paper, Shiki grabbed the register and stormed off to the next student, missing the smile that creeped onto a particular student's usually monotone face.

"Uhh," Aizawa began, still wrapped in his sleeping back. He stood in front of his desk, drool still evident on the side of his mouth. "Stay in this classroom, your next class is History. Don't bug your next teacher. Also, you have a mock practical tomorrow to prepare for your final, don't forget, make sure you have your hero uniforms."

Aizawa stared at them before muttering, "bye" and dashing out the door. The students went back to whatever they were doing, after all, this was normal.

Thank you for reading.

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