Patricia tiptoed into the shaded alleyway, underneath overhead piping and stepping past wall-mounted air conditioning units on her right. She seized upon a door further down to her left, cracking it open, and into the cool air from the humid outside.

She blinked, scanning the spacious utilitarian corridors. A step, then another. Her rubber-soled athletic sneakers reverberated through the silent corridor on polished linoleum. She eyed the aging, fading walls as she glanced at posted signs for vacant classrooms. Better-maintained than her initial assumptions, though it said nothing about the student body or faculty here. Up the stairwell, an intuitive hunch that her destination laid on the second floor.

A hunch proven right. The principal's office was a door away from the stairwell. She glanced at the mounted nameplate beside it ("Fujimaki Sasuke"). She turned the doorknob.

A bespectacled man with graying hairs, dressed in a collared suit, at the solid wood desk ahead typed away at his computer, fixated on the screen. Papers set aside, neatly stacked. He glanced around the screen, eyes briefly narrowing. "I assume you're Patricia Brown?"

She stood, nodding. "I am, principal. Thank you for receiving me on such short notice."

"Take a seat. I'll be with you shortly."

She assumed the leatherback chair opposite him. He continued typing for the next minute before a heavy sigh escaped his lips. His swivel chair scooted back as he opened a drawer and took a printout.

He adjusted his glasses as he scanned the held paper. "So, you're from the United States, a resident of Hawaii. You graduated from Kihei Charter School a few years ago, then attended the University of Hawaii Maui College for two years to get your associates before transferring to the University of Hawaii at Manoa, graduating with a bachelor's in teaching and Japanese a year earlier than most."

"That's correct, sir."

"In addition, records showed that you've maintained high grades at all listed schools, and gotten two letters of recommendation, one from your English teacher at Kihei, the other from a UH Manoa professor." He set the paper on the desk, readjusting his glasses as he turned his focus to her. "All impressive, but… difficult to believe considering you show up in…" The words lingered.

She lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. "I did my research. This town is, like, similar to my hometown. Plus, I already explained the circumstances in the email, y'know?"

The principal winced, whispering. "You were doing so well…"

"I beg your pardon?"

He shook his head, sighing. "Nothing. Moving on…" he leaned forward. "Why should I hire you?"

"The resume speaks for itself, principal."

The principal leaned back, yawning. "If you're applying for the English teacher position, sure, but what makes you think you can handle homeroom?"

"Well… what's the average homeroom teacher like?"

A weak laugh escaped him. "I shouldn't answer that question."

Her smile grew. "That's fine. They're boring. They drone. They detest the students they're teaching, but they're forced to be, like, cordial, so they teach like they're walking on broken glass."

"...I hate to admit you're somewhat right." He turned his swivel chair around, gazing out the distant window. "...You're a fresh breath of air, Brown-san, but I have to ask. Are you truly ready for this job?"

"You think I'm walking in this blind? I know what public schools are like."

"You think you know, but you don't." He spun his swivel chair back to her. "You came at the most opportune time. Both the homeroom and English teacher left around the same time a few days ago. Vacancies usually take months to fill. You're qualified… maybe overqualified, but if I hire you, please leave the individualistic attitude at the classroom door."

She snorted. "And be like those homeroom teachers?"

"I don't mind you bringing your own flair, but please, wear something a bit more conservative… These are middle-school students you're teaching. I don't need any more incidents."

"Don't worry, principal, I'm not gonna, like, use the classroom to act out eroge scenarios."

He shuddered. "The fact you're a lady, and aware of such… works, is a frightening combination." He opened the drawer again and pulled out the forms. "Here's the employment contract. You're hired for both positions, and I hope to see you work a minimum of three years. Employment can be terminated by either you or myself. If an employee seeks to leave, they're expected to ask for and sign a two-week notice. Because you're a non-Japanese resident, I also expect to be sent your work visa and other applicable documents. Once you read the terms and find them satisfactory, please sign your signature at the bottom."

After she signed the form, the principal stood up. She followed his lead, exchanging a handshake. "Thank you for taking me on! I won't let you down!"

The principal grimaced, whispering. "You say that now…"

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing. I look forward to what you'll bring to Aldera."

She smiled ear-to-ear.

"I'm heading off, mom!" Izuku said, clad in the dark-black, button-up collared gakuran of his new middle school—the only middle school serving the residents of Central Atami and its immediate suburban neighborhoods.

It meant he'd see all his elementary school classmates there. His stomach fluttered at the thought that Bakugou might be in a different classroom than him. His elementary school classmates were off-limits, but he might be able to befriend those from other elementary schools without Bakugou poisoning the well.

His mom called out from the kitchen. "Good luck, Izuku! Keep up the good grades and let me know if you make any friends there."

"I will!" The door swung open and Izuku shuffled out from the genkan and into the open air. The backpack weighed down his movements as he descended the stairwell to the ground floor, out the door, through the parking lot and onto the many side streets and pathways that comprised his new commute.

He traded the five-minute commute for a fifteen-minute one as he traversed up the hills to Aldera. He paid no mind to the throngs of similarly dressed students he passed by.

Izuku arrived at the main entrance, and after a brief glance, had set foot into the school. He navigated up the stairwell to his second-floor homeroom. At the door, he paused one last time, gathering his thoughts, taking a breather. His hand hovered over the door handle.

The classroom door slid open and he stepped into the classroom. He shuffled to a vacant desk in the penultimate row at the back, ignoring the scattered students who milled about, engaged in animated discussion. Time slowed to a crawl as he set his gaze on the blackboard. More students filtered in. He reeled back when his gaze caught a flash of spiky blond hair at the doorway.

Bakugou stopped in front of the classroom, daggers-for-eyes overlooking the room for his archenemy. Izuku tore his eyes away when his gaze landed on him, a Mirko-rivaling grin on Bakugou's face. He stomped over to Izuku, slamming a curled fist on his desktop, causing Izuku to flinch and reel back.

"I can read your thoughts, Deku…" Bakugou said, unfurling his hands and igniting a small flame. "You thought I'd be in a different classroom." His open palm rushed down onto the desktop, bequieting the classroom. "That's too bad, Deku! Don't think you can get away with looking down on me!"

Izuku winced.

Bakugou lifted his hand from the desk and stomped away, a part of his shoulder shoving against Izuku's body. A hand shot up and rubbed the spot.

The last person meandered in as the bell rang. Izuku's eyes drifted toward the entrant, and he was at an instant loss for words.

The long-flowing blonde hair and ponytail, a white midriff-exposing tank top beneath an unzipped long-sleeved jacket, and the same daisy dukes from before. The lady he helped last week had now reentered his life in an unexpected way, in an unexpected role.

Patricia's eyes swept over the classroom, her eyes eventually lingering on a familiar tuft of green-hair. A small, all-knowing smile graced her lips.

All chatter ceased upon her entrance. Their eyes tracked her gait as she assumed the lectern. The elementary school teachers they had before were all nondescript lookalikes, in sharp-dressed suits. No one dared standing out in the faculty until now…

The foreign lady had everyone's attention with her unique wardrobe and style. She turned to them, waving and grinning. " I'm Patricia Brown, and I'll be your homeroom teacher for the next few years."

Deafening silence. Not even a student dropping a pencil on their desk broke the tense atmosphere. A few more moments…

Izuku glanced over his shoulder, observing Bakugou's slack jawed expression.

The classroom erupted in pandemonium.

It took a minute for the bedlam to settle down after Patricia attempted to shush them a few times. After the class settled down, she led them down to the gymnasium for the entrance ceremony. The principal prattled to the assembled students about the school's motto; the expectations set upon them. Details Izuku tuned out and would forget by the day's end.

The principal stopped rambling almost an hour later and dismissed them back to their respective homerooms. The students settled into their seats as the teacher launched into their first assignment: introductions.

"...So, once again, my name is Patricia Brown. I'm from America, Hawaii to be more specific, and not only will I be your homeroom teacher, but I'll also be the school's English teacher…" she grinned. "I probably shouldn't have said 'Aloha', since it isn't an English word, but anyway… Feel free to ask me questions after everyone here has introduced themselves. Now, starting from the top…"

She called on each student in alphabetical order. Izuku remained still in his seat, watching his classmates come and go in a blur.

"Bakugou, Katsuki."

Bakugou stood up. "I'm Bakugou Katsuki, and I'm here to tell each and every one of you extras that I will be the only one from this dump to get into U.A. and become a hero! So stay the hell out of my way if you extras know what's good for you."

"Who are you calling an extra?!"

"You have a rotten attitude!"

More cries erupted from offended students. Her eyes widened, and she stomped her foot.

"Settle down students!" Patricia's gaze landed upon Bakugou. "I don't see why you need to, like, provoke students on your first day, y'know?"

Bakugou turned to her, his nose wrinkled. "Because I'm the top dog, bimbo!"

Patricia's mouth slightly fell open. "Calling teachers 'bimbos' ain't helping."

"And?"

Patricia sighed. "Onto the next person…"

Several more students were called upon before it was Izuku's turn.

He stood up, wavering. "I'm Midoriya Izuku. It's nice to meet you all."

He resumed his seat. Several seconds passed and Izuku could see Patricia tilting her head, lips pursed. "Are you going to, like, further elaborate?"

Izuku shook his head.

"He's a quirkless Deku who thinks he has a shot at becoming a hero!" Bakugou said.

Further silence. Bakugou's words caused the rest to turn to Izuku. He looked down at his desk, shielding himself from their gazes.

Patricia's eyes narrowed, frowning. "First off, did I call on you, Bakugou-san?"

"I don't care, bimbo. Everyone should know."

"Quirks are irrelevant in the classroom setting, and frankly, I'm getting, like, tired of your attitude."

"So?"

Patricia briefly closed her eyes, sighing. "If you want to be disobedient, then fine, I'll just send you to the principal's office and let him deal with you."

Bakugou threw his hands up. "Tch! Fine."

"Fine what?"

"I'll listen."

Patricia smiled, her gaze looking beyond Bakugou. "Yamaji, Fuka."

The remaining introductions proceeded without incident.

Patricia observed the students filing out of the classroom at dismissal. Izuku had jumped from his seat upon the chime and skedaddled out. She frowned, hoping he was okay when she left homeroom to teach English to the other classes.

Truth be told, spotting his familiar green tuft of hair when she stepped into the classroom warmed her heart. He didn't need to help her to the extent he had last week, so in some way, seeing him in her class was a preordained way of returning the favor.

She didn't understand, however, why a spiky blond student had it out for someone so adorable. She tensed, recalling his behavior, both toward Izuku and her. He thought her an easy target, but had shut his mouth as soon as she brought up the principal. Maybe that's all it took for Bakugou to be cowed under her, hopefully for the rest of the academic year.

She shook her head. He probably returned to his old behavior when she wasn't there. Her eyebrow raised when she ruminated on Bakugou's mention of Izuku's quirklessness. It shouldn't be a big deal, but many students turned to look at Izuku after he said it. A few, she noticed, adopted vicious expressions. A sour taste formed in her mouth. Those few she would have to monitor.

She moved away from the lectern and approached her corner desk. The paperwork on it awaited her pen scribbles. A sigh escaped her lips as she yielded to this job's necessary evil.

Izuku strode out the courtyard, through the main gate, his head tilted downward. His hopes dashed. Middle school would not differ from elementary, not with Bakugou in the mix.

Izuku returned to those same habits of focusing on his opened composition notebook at the expense of observing his surroundings and lunching with no one to talk to. He didn't give Bakugou any chances, so he maintained the similar habit of being the first one out.

However, he could not ignore the one tremendous difference between his old school and the new.

His homeroom teacher was not only a familiar face, but she didn't allow Bakugou to push her around. She shut down his antics and called his bluff. He folded like an unsteady house of cards right then and there.

Izuku smiled. Bakugou's ambition in being the only student admitted to U.A. forced him to play nice, and avoid misbehavior. He hoped the teacher's pushback, in addition, would keep Bakugou obedient during her classes.

Another thing he could appreciate about her; she's the first teacher in years to apply effort in her teaching, for now that is. It was probably a byproduct of her newness, one that'll fade the longer she stays. The other teachers, who've checked out by now, were probably once in her shoes.

Then again, those other teachers lacked her ubiquity. She came in without pretense or care in assimilation. The newness allowed her to teach differently from the rest.

All that banished the treacherous negativity from his mind. He ambled in confidence, smiling, as he went further into town.

A heavy sigh escaped from Patricia's lips as she plopped the stack of filled-in tests at her corner in the teacher's room. Almost two months in, and she already dreaded the midterm results before her.

The first in the pile: 40 out of 100. It's not the worst, but she expected a lot better.

The first few days dashed her initial expectations. Most students professed their ambitious desire to be pro heroes, a side-effect of Aldera lingering in U.A. High's literal shadow, south of them in Korisato, but their test results showed their ambitions did not extend to their grades.

The principal's words at the interview echoed in her mind. She had to admit that his words were correct. She was not ready for the apathy, from her coworkers and the students.

She pondered on the massive contradiction set before her: All Might was Japan's number one hero. He spent a considerable period in America, employing English in his lexicon during his public appearances and his recorded battles. His popularity should have made the Japanese populace want to learn the number one hero's second language.

Yet, here she was, grading these tests, and seeing in real-time the opposite was true.

It wasn't like she didn't see it coming. She did. After her first day, seeing her students inattentive, she made minor tweaks in her teaching style, but they didn't budge. No matter the method, the students seemed to have settled on an unwritten agreement to make education their lowest priority.

Disillusionment settled in. The next half hour grading the pile furthered it. Only three showed promise, all from her homeroom.

To her absolute astonishment, Bakugou, out of all students, was the highest achiever, scoring an 85 out of 100. His attitude belied his intelligence and work ethic. She assumed the assignments and tests would be a waste of his time; non-applicable in his desire to become the number one hero. She assumed wrong.

Close behind him was Izuku. 80 out of 100. He said little in class, but she observed him jotting down notes, so it didn't come as a big surprise that he'd score high.

At a distant third, Ichino Riri, with a 65 out of 100. Slightly above-average than her peers, but she differed from the top two. The top two were loners. Riri wasn't. The silver floaty-haired girl had a posse she'd converse with during lunch or walk out with after school. Unfortunately, her friends didn't share her effort in academics.

She placed the top three back into the stack before lifting them. The clock mounted on the wall showed two minutes until the first major teacher's conference. She pushed her chair in and flipped off the light switch as she departed.

She descended to the first floor and ambled over to the spacious conference room across the principal's office. Her coworkers were already there, communicating in hushed tones. The door creak interrupted their conversations, their heads whipping over to her. Patricia stepped further in, closing the door behind her.

They assumed their seats when the principal entered a few minutes later. He adjusted his glasses, swept his eyes over the room, and cleared his throat. His first words were his thanks for their punctuality.

She listened on as she scanned her coworkers' expressions; how they composed themselves, which hadn't changed from her first meeting and interactions during the opening ceremony, and in the teacher's room where they lunched away from their students, trading small talk and stories, looking like they're one day away from submitting their two-week notices and quiet quitting.

She wished she could feel surprised when the other teachers reported similar midterm grades in their specialties. The principal, upon hearing their reports, failed to hide the utter defeat on his features.

The other teachers delivered sullen nods after she made her report. She restrained her incoming sigh. She was well aware of public schools' reputation for mediocrity at best, negligence at worst. Aldera seemed to have fallen into the latter camp, with most of the faculty dour and resigned, having given up long ago.

The principal sighed after the last teacher delivered his report. His hands flew to his temples. "I'm gonna need a drink after all this… Now, if there's anything else that needs to be brought up, now's the time."

She glanced at the other teachers, waiting a few moments. Their unperturbed expressions gave her their unstated permission. "I wanna discuss Bakugou." The other teachers' expressions underwent a rapid transformation, most of them disconcerted. "He's achieved the best grades in the English midterm, but his attitude needs improvement."

The others nodded. "I can't argue with that," a coworker said. "Has an impressive quirk, and unlike the others, is trying to back up his words, despite his disrespect." Other coworkers nodded.

"Seems like everyone agrees he treats all of us like we're beneath him," she said. "But I am concerned about his treatment of a student in my homeroom class."

The coworker's eyes lit in recognition. "The Midoriya kid?"

"Yep. He really has it out for him. Introduces himself to the class by saying he'll be the only one to get into U.A., then after Midoriya introduces himself, Bakugou butts in and starts going off about how he's a quirkless 'Deku.'"

A man, clad in a sharp-dressed suit, also bespectacled, sighed. His name was Aida-san, if she remembered correctly. "I know a teacher who taught them in elementary. Midoriya's a kid who still clings to his impossible dream even though he lacks a quirk." He gazed briefly at the ceiling. "Kid should know better. You'd think he'd get the message by now."

She reeled back, frowning. "You're joking, right? You're not, like, seriously saying that Izuku deserves the treatment he's getting?"

"Not at all. Maybe this saying is foreign to you, but we have a common saying: 'The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.' I'm sure Izuku knows this too, so to see that he continues to stick out through his actions… It's unfortunate, but I cannot say that it's coming out of nowhere."

She was at a loss for words, mouth agape. Aida-san phrased it like it was no big deal. The implication that Izuku invited the bullying lingered in her mind. She steadied her breaths and chose her next words carefully. "What you said… it sounds like you're excusing what's happening to him."

Aida's face turned white. "I think you're quite mistaken, Brown-san. I'm not making excuses. I'm just saying how it is."

"I don't believe you." She shifted her eyes to the rest. "Don't tell me you all sign on to that opinion?" Her expression faltered at the lack of dissent. Their heads remained unnaturally still, unwilling to shake or nod. A loud sigh escaped her. "Did you tell Bakugou that you wouldn't tolerate his behavior? That it's not acceptable and if he continued that he'd get consequences?" Her brows furrowed at their continued stillness. "...Wow. I can't believe you guys are seriously sayin—"

The principal cleared his throat. "Do you have anything more substantive to add, Brown-san?"

She whipped her head to him, glare hardening. "Apparently not." She leaned back into her chair, frowning.

The principal sighed. "Is there anything else that needs mentioning?" Silence reigned. "The meeting's adjourned."

All teachers rose from their seats, chairs noisily pushing out. They picked up their respective stacks and headed out the door. She was ready to follow.

"We need to talk, Brown-san."

She snapped her head to the bespectacled principal. Once the others departed, the atmosphere grew tense, and both kept their lips pursed, unwilling to break the silence. Eventually, she surrendered. "I'm sorry, principal. I know… I got carried away, but you heard what they're saying… What Aida-san said was so tone deaf that I couldn't let his words go unchallenged."

The principal glanced at the closed door, then at her. He stepped closer, his features softening. "You're not the only one who holds that opinion."