Mr Yagi Side Stories

by SassySovereign

In connection with the main series "Mr. Yagi," this is a compilation of side stories that aren't really necessary reading for the main story, but do provide supplemental material.

A/N: This chapter takes place after Chapter 22 in Mr. Yagi.

With the Sports Festival coming up, there was a lot Katsuki could do to prepare for the oncoming competition. Between building up his endurance when using his Quirk and strengthening his offensive measures in battle, time seemed to be flying faster than before, making each moment critical to ensuring his imminent victory. Which only made it all the more frustrating that he was spending his Sunday afternoon making posters .

"Hey, careful!" exclaimed Shitty Hair. He lifted his hand up and frowned upon spotting a streak of pink paint along the side of his palm. "Ashido, you got paint on me!"

Pinky had the grace to look sheepish when she grinned. "Sorry! I didn't see your hand."

"Reduce the shouting, would you?" commented Tape Arms. He held up his pen and pointed to the uncapped tip. "I'm in the inking phase on my poster and I would really rather not have to start from scratch."

Katsuki inhaled deeply through his nose and resumed tracing his pencil along the lightning bolt stencil, deciding to keep his mouth shut. At least some people in the group had self-awareness. Out of everyone, Tape Arms seemed the most prepared to stay on task. He wore a messy shirt with old paint stains from projects that Katsuki didn't care to learn about and sweatpants that were comfortable to work in, while the others didn't seem to put the thought in. Shitty Hair wore a bright red hoodie that Katsuki recognized from a brand that he knew wasn't cheap with cargo shorts and Pinky, for some weird reason, decided that wearing thigh high boots with her t-shirt and shorts was a smart idea. Sparky at least wore a t-shirt and jeans, but he kept complaining about getting something on his leather jacket.

Resisting the urge to sigh, Katsuki spared a look down at his watch and frowned. How had it only been an hour since they started? It felt like they had been there for three .

If someone had told Katsuki before he was a student at U.A. that he would find himself as the lead officer of the public relations committee for his class, he would have laughed right in their face. However, it seemed that fate– and his teacher, who nominated him for the position– had other plans in store for him. Not only had none of his classmates considered him for actual positions, like the Class Representative or even Deputy Representative, he had to be suggested for the role by the Grim Reaper that taught their Heroics and Public Relations class.

"I'm sure you'll do well with the responsibility, young Bakugou," the Grim Reaper had said on the day of the election. Then, he gave him that same stupid thumbs up he did when they talked in the hallway. "I can't wait to see what you all do."

"Hey, guys, look!" Sparky proclaimed, causing Katsuki to press the lead of his pencil down so sharply that it broke. His crimson eyes flitted over to see him balancing a tower of attached markers on his hand. "Wanna see this trick I learned?"

Then, the tower began to fall from his grasp and it clattered to the floor, breaking all the markers apart. Sparky let out a loud groan of discontent while Tape Arms and Shitty Hair snickered.

"Kaminari, is that what you've been doing with all the markers?" Pinky accused. "I was wondering where they went!"

"You weren't using them," Sparky shot back, "besides, you've been doing just fine with the paints over there!"

Katsuki's head snapped towards them dangerously and his hand curled into a fist. "Would you two can it? At this rate, we'll never fuckin' finish ."

The two of them blinked in surprise and the guilt that bled into their expressions afterward should have filled Katsuki with a sense of satisfaction. However, all it did was leave an uncomfortable feeling tugging in his chest. He didn't care much for it.

"Uh…" drawled Shitty Hair, causing Katsuki to reel on him. His classmate pointed down. "You, uh… kinda…"

When he trailed off, Katsuki peered down at his hand and he blinked when he saw he had crumpled the stencil in his hand and, in turn, smudged his linework. With a low growl, he wadded the cardboard stencil up in his hand and chucked it into the trash can that rested at the corner of the room. It bounced off the rim and hit the ground silently.

"God," he snarled to himself. Katsuki snatched another stencil from the pile that was spilled out of the package. "Fuckin' stupid… "

"You must have been a joy during arts and crafts time," Tape Arms commented. When Katsuki lifted his head up to shoot him a dirty look, he saw him holding up an eraser. "Here. This'll let you clean up your lines."

Katsuki's frown deepened. "I'll just start over."

"Aw, but you were doing so good on this one," Pinky lamented. She put her finger on the lettering at the top. "You did a good job with the text! My handwriting always looks bad."

"Yeah, how'd you get the spacing so even?" asked Shitty Hair. He held up his poster and Katsuki couldn't stop himself from wrinkling his nose at the sight. The kanji was inconsistently written across the top half of the poster, with some being spread out on one side of while the other was far more crowded, likely due to starting out big and realizing, too late, there was no room for the rest. "I, uh… kinda have trouble with that part."

Despite his annoyance, Katsuki arched his brow. "You didn't sketch it before lining it?"

"I thought that would take too much time," Shitty Hair admitted, shrugging a bit. He pointed at the spaced out section of kanji. "I started out real confident here! But then I got all the way over here and…" He slid his finger to the more cramped side. "Well. You can see how that ended."

"You wrote it in pen first?" Katsuki blurted out incredulously. "Were you gonna color it after that?"

Shitty Hair furrowed his brow with an awkward smile. "Uh… Yes?"

"Idiot!" Katsuki exclaimed. He sat upright and pointed at the ink. "If you color over ink, it'll smudge the color! You gotta color first , moron!"

"Dude, chill out ," Sparky interjected with a chuckle, "you're, like, the opposite of Bob Ross right now."

Katsuki's eyes cut towards him dangerously. "Bob Ross would consider this a mistake."

Tape Arm brought a hand to his chest in mock shock. " Blasphemy! He'd call it a happy accident!"

"Besides, it's not like we can't fix it!" Pinky pointed out. "We can just paint over it and start over."

"Ugh," Katsuki groaned, "at this rate, we'll be here all fuckin' day ." He looked back down at his poster and the smudged mess that came from his lead. "Gonna be a bitch to start over…"

Then, an eraser bounced into view and he blinked. He looked up to see Tape Arms peering down at him with a grin.

"It'll be easier to just erase it," he told him, "once you color over it, no one will notice it."

Katsuki grimaced. " I will."

Tape Arms arched a brow, then shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He turned his attention back to his own poster and Katsuki's lips pursed like he just sucked on a lemon. His mind struggled to understand how they could be so alright with spending their Sunday doing something so boring and stupid when the Sports Festival was coming up. Didn't they realize they were wasting time? How come they didn't care?

"I wonder what everyone else's posters will look like," Pinky commented as Katsuki pulled out a clean poster from the pile, "I hear all the committees from each class are making them. I think it'll be cool to see what everyone comes up with!"

"Yeah, each year is putting them up in their designated halls," Sparky added as he resumed coloring. He rubbed the color across the poster, leaving some patches darker than others. Katsuki had to resist the urge to comment on it. "Maybe we could sneak a look at what the third years have."

Shitty Hair shoved his shoulder playfully. "It's not manly to copy people's ideas!"

Sparky waggled the yellow marker in his hand. "Not copying– taking inspiration ."

"We don't have time to go down to the third year hallways," Katsuki dictated. He spared a look at his old poster to make sure that he was copying the text correctly. "You're better off coming up with your own ideas."

" Yeah , Kaminari," teased Tape Arms, "what ideas did you have?"

With a grin, Sparky held up his poster. "Well, I wanted my poster to catch people's eye, so I went with bright colors! What do you think?"

The group all stared at his poster in silence.

"What?" Sparky questioned. He glanced down at his poster and back up at them. "What is it?"

"Kaminari," Pinky began, bringing her hands up in a small prayer motion. She flipped them to where her fingers pointed away from her chest. "You misspelled 'festival'."

His eyes widened. "What? No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did ," Shitty Hair affirmed. He squinted his crimson eyes and brought his index finger to a bright yellow section. "Also, why'd you color the letters yellow? You can barely see it."

"Yellow's a good color!" Sparky defended.

Katsuki had it in him to snort. "Yeah, but you did it on top of white . You gotta outline it, moron."

Sparky frowned. "I'll show you who's the moron–"

Then, they all went silent when the door to the classroom slid open and they all turned to see who opened it. Standing at the entrance was an average height blond boy, dressed in a loose-fit white button-up with rolled up sleeves and a cuffed jean short. He blinked in surprise upon seeing the group of students and, Katsuki noted, seemed annoyed to see them.

"Ah," the boy drawled, "so you're all here, too, then."

Pinky arched her brow. "Uh… Can we help you?"

The boy let out a huff through his nose. "I was going to check the supply cabinet in here for a pair of scissors since I couldn't find one in our classroom." His blue eyes seemed to scan them all. "Are you Class 1-A's committee?"

"We are!" Sparky answered, holding his marker to wave. "Nice to–"

" You guys!" exclaimed a loud, unrestrained voice. Then, another boy with silver hair and wild eyes popped up behind him from seemingly out of nowhere. "You're the brats from 1-A!'

Shitty Hair blinked. "'Brats'?"

"I saw you guys on Friday!" the silver-haired boy went on. Had Katsuki seen him before? He didn't think he did. "Everyone was 'oo'-ing and 'ahh'-ing over you, and you were all just eating it up! Bet you lot think you're better than us!"

"Uh…" Tape Arms emitted uncomfortably.

"And you! " the silver-haired nuisance shouted, pointing directly at Katsuki. "I bet you think you're so big and tough, huh? You said you were gonna win the Sports Festival!"

The blond's eyes flashed, and already, Katsuki got the worst feeling. "Ah… So you're the little ego-maniac I've been hearing so much about."

Katsuki set his jaw tightly and clutched his pencil tightly. "And you are?"

"My, how kind of you to ask," the blond replied, though his voice clearly lacked sincerity, "I'm Monoma. I'm the lead officer of Class 1-B's public relations committee." Then, he waved a hand. "No need to introduce yourself, though… I already know who you are, Bakugou."

"So fuckin' what? " Katsuki snapped. He stood up from his spot on the ground with the others and clenched his hands into fists. "If you're here to make a declaration of war, then get it over and done with. You wouldn't be the first."

Blondie snorted. "So quick to assume your own importance… You really are a little brat like Tetsutetsu said, aren't you?"

"Yo, dude," cut in Shitty Hair, who joined Katsuki at his side. He crossed his arms over his chest with a frown. "What the heck is your deal? What'd we ever do to you?"

"Guys, c'mon," Pinky tried to say, holding up her hands in a "back it up" motion, "let's try to chill out, alright?"

Katsuki pointed at Blondie sharply. " He started it! He came in with an attitude!"

"Bakugou, take it easy ," Sparky warned quietly, "it's not worth getting into a fight over."

Tape Arms stood up next. "You said you wanted some scissors, right? I can go check the cabinet and we can–"

"No, thanks," Blondie interrupted, and oh, if Katsuki's blood wasn't boiling before, it certainly was then, "we'll get on just fine." Then, he turned on his heel and placed a hand on Wild Eyes' shoulder. "Come along, Tetsutetsu… Let's finish up our posters."

Wild Eyes' let out a growl, but didn't speak. He allowed Blondie to turn him away from the door and stepped away with his classmate in tow. Then, Blondie paused at the doorway and turned to look over his shoulder.

"Oh, and, I just wanted to say," Blondie drawled. His eyes trailed down to the floor, where all their posters and supplies were sprawled across the floor. He wrinkled his nose and put on a clearly fake smile. "Nice posters ."

He slid the door to a close before any of them could respond, leaving them all in silence.

"Wow," Sparky expressed with raised brows.

"What a jerk ," Shitty Hair muttered. He scoffed and turned to the group with an incredulous look. "What's their deal with our class? We didn't even do anything to them!"

Pinky pursed her lips. "I guess they're mad that we've been getting a bunch of attention?"

"Yeah," Tape Arms confirmed, his lips pulled into a frown, "but it's not like we asked to be attacked by villains. Seems like a stupid thing to be mad over."

"And what did he mean by 'nice posters'?" Sparky blurted out. He held up his poster again. "I think it looks nice!"

Pinky placed a hand over his and pushed it down. "You just keep telling yourself that."

"Hey!" he protested.

Katsuki let out a loud growl. "Oh, we'll show him some nice posters, alright… We'll show him some damn good posters!"

Shitty Hair blinked in surprise. "Bakugou? You, uh, alright, bud?"

"We gotta get our shit into gear!" Katsuki proclaimed. He held out his hand and then chopped his other hand down onto it to emphasize his words. "We're not gonna let those little wanna-bes talk down to us and get away with it!"

"Was that a play on them being Class 1-B?" Tape Arms asked.

"Hell yeah it was!" he affirmed. Then, he pointed at him. "You! You're good at inking, aren't you?"

Tape Arms blinked. "Uh… Yeah?"

"And you!" Katsuki went on, pointing at Pinky next. "You're good at coloring and painting! You help Sparky with coloring!"

"I can color just fine –" Sparky tried to say.

Pinky shoved his poster into his face, causing him to sputter. "I'll make sure he doesn't mess up."

"Damn right ," Katsuki replied. Then, he pointed at Shitty Hair. "And you! I'm gonna show you how to learn to sketch out letters and designs, or so help me God ."

"Wow, you're being a bit intense right now," Shitty Hair replied. When Katsuki's glare intensified, he held up his hands. "But hey, if it helps us finish, then I'm down!"

Katsuki nodded firmly and turned to the rest of the group. "We're gonna work in sections. Shitty Hair and I will work on sketching–" Then, he pointed to Pinky and Sparky. "–you two will color it in–" Finally, he pointed to Tape Arms. "And Elbows can ink it!"

"We have names , you know!" Pinky complained.

"No time for chit-chat!" Katsuki ordered. He clapped his hands. "Let's go, go, go! "

It wasn't the well-oiled machine that Katsuki would have liked, but it was getting the job done, nonetheless. Shitty Hair took to instruction very quickly and, although he made some mistakes in the beginning, he did well to right them once Katsuki pointed them out. His characters, while not perfect, were much more evenly distributed and neatly written than his initial poster, which Katsuki supposed he would have to take.

Meanwhile, as Katsuki guided Shitty Hair in properly designing and sketching the posters, Pinky managed to keep Sparky in check while they colored. Despite how garish her obsession with pinks and purples were, Katsuki had to admit that Pinky had an eye for color, which proved to be helpful for Sparky's more chaotic tendencies.

"Why can't I put these two together?" Sparky complained when he held up two clashing shades of blue.

Pinky took the markers away from him. "Trust me, babe– it won't look good."

At the end of the makeshift production line, Tape Arms seemed to be doing well with the inking process. He barely seemed to register the presence of the others as they spoke and was lost in the flow of lining everything with a precision that had to have come from practice. Katsuki briefly wondered where he learned to do it, but didn't dwell on it, not wanting to slow down the process.

"Whew!" Shitty Hair proclaimed as he handed off the next poster to Sparky and Pinky. "Was that the last one?"

To Katsuki's satisfaction, he saw no more posters in the pile. "It was. Thank God ."

"Whoo!" Pinky exclaimed. "We're almost done!"

Tape Arms offered pens to Katsuki and Shitty Hair. "Hey, I'm kinda backlogged on inking. Wanna help?"

"Sure thing, man," Shitty Hair replied, taking one of the pens, "I don't know if it'll be as neat as yours, though."

"S'not so hard," Tape Arms told him. He leaned down and put his pen to the poster. "My tip is to push straights– it'll keep them from being wobbly. Then, you pull curves."

Pinky glanced over from coloring. "How come you're so good at that?"

"Eh, just practice," he replied coolly, not looking up from the poster. True to his advice, he pushed a near-perfect straight line. "I had to learn some of this from trial and error."

"Cool," Shitty Hair said, showing his sharp teeth with a smile, "guess that explains why your handwriting is always so neat."

Some part of Katsuki wanted to snap at them to quit talking, but another part of him held back from doing so. He couldn't identify why– perhaps it was because he didn't want to break their concentration when they were so close to done. He didn't want to have to start over on another poster, not when the jerks from 1-B were still lurking next door, probably laughing at them.

'Nice posters,' he thought, recalling how Blondie said it before. Katsuki nearly scoffed. 'We'll show him some nice posters, alright.'

"Oh, hell yeah!" Shitty Hair proclaimed when the last poster was set on a desk to dry. He pumped his fist into the air. "Those look so good! "

Although he didn't vocalize it out loud, Katsuki had to agree. The posters were all different in their own right, with some being bright and flashy, while others were more straightforward, yet dynamic nonetheless. Even the one that Pinky had done in pink and purple turned out alright in the end, the bright glitter highlighting the broad brushstrokes and making the clashing color blocking somehow work together. Katsuki's personal favorite was the one that he and Shitty Hair had drawn up where they drew All Might's silhouette in his signature pose, highlighted by the colors that adorned his Golden Age suit. The words "Plus Ultra!" popped out in a 3-D effect that had been a monster to sketch out with a ruler, but by God, was it worth it. Katsuki dared to think it looked nicer than his first attempt.

Pinky let out a squeal akin to a tea kettle. "I can't wait to hang them up! They're gonna look so good on the walls!"

Tape Arms jerked his thumb in the direction of the doorway. "We can go ahead and grab the ones that are dry to hang them up in the halls." He held up his elbow and winked. "I can save us the trouble of wasting tape."

"Well, what're we waiting for?" Sparky said. He picked up one of the posters with a bright smile and held it up. "Let's all grab one and go!"

"Easy, moron," Katsuki groused as he picked up a poster from a desk, "you better not crinkle it!"

While Sparky's lips pursed indignantly, the others chuckled amongst themselves. With a roll of his eyes, Katsuki took the lead out of the classroom and the rest of them followed after him, each with a poster in hand.

'Those wanna-bes next door won't know what hit 'em,' he thought, his jaw locking into place. The memory of Blondie's stupid smile nearly made him clench his fist and he let out a huff through his nose. 'We'll see who has good posters by the time this is done.'

"Well, well," drawled a familiar voice as they stepped out of the classroom, "looks like you all finally finished."

Katuski whipped around to see none other than the focus of his ire standing there, his face twisted up into a smug smile that made Katsuki want to clock him. Behind him were a gaggle of students that Katsuki presumed to be the other members of 1-B's committee– not that it mattered .

"My, did you start all over?" Blondie asked, his smile never leaving his face. He placed a hand over his cheek as if to feign surprise, but his expression didn't change. "Oh, but I thought they looked so… nice . Such a shame you felt you had to start over."

Before Katsuki could speak, Shitty Hair stepped up. "Dude, what is your deal? We're all just trying to make posters for the Sports Festival!"

"Yeah!" Pinky agreed. She tucked a poster under her arm and placed her free hand on her hip. "Plus, I'd like to see your posters!"

Blondie tilted his head, leaning into his palm. "Oh, really? Then let's show you."

As if on cue, everyone in the opposing group held up their posters and Katsuki heard his own committee let out surprised gasps. All of the posters that 1-B held seemed to have come straight from a manga page, their lines bold and dynamic enough to be seen from far away without difficulty. The coloring ranged from a soft, watercolor style to bright, saturated colors that seemed to mirror classic comic books.

"Do you like them?" Blondie asked, noting their stunned expressions. He gestured to one of his classmates, who seemed to have a thought bubble in lieu of an actual head. "Fukidashi drew them up for us. He's quite the artist."

"We helped color!" added a shorter blonde girl with long horns. Behind her, a hulking giant with yellow skin and a head shaped like a glue dispenser nodded in affirmation.

However, the one that Katsuki found himself focusing on was the one that was in Blondie's grasp.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, his finger coming up accusingly. "You copied my poster!"

Sure enough, the poster in Blondie's grasp had the unmistakable silhouette of All Might dead center on the poster with the words "Plus Ultra!" written in bold, 3-D lettering. The background design differed in coloring and style, but there was absolutely no mistaking that it was a mockery of Katsuki's first poster.

"I didn't copy you," Blondie justified in a way too calm tone. His smile only grew and oh, Katsuki wanted to murder him for it. "I merely took inspiration and improved upon it."

"Hey, not cool!" Sparky reprimanded. "You copycat! "

A girl with green hair shot Blondie a reproachful look. "Monoma, did you seriously copy one of their poster ideas? You know Kendo wouldn't be alright with that."

"Well, Kendo isn't here right now," Blondie retorted sharply, "and last I checked, I'm the committee's lead officer." He turned his attention back to Katsuki's group. "Besides, he should take it as a compliment… Isn't imitation the most sincere form of flattery for an ego-maniac like yourself?"

Wild Eyes stepped forward with a raised fist. "Yeah!"

" Forget these guys," Tape Arms hissed to Katsuki. He held up his poster and gestured to the wall. "Let's just hang up our posters and go."

"Oh, leaving so soon?" Blondie crooned. He tilted his head and his smile– his stupid fucking smile – only grew. "If how long it took you to finish your posters is any indication, then I bet you'll be hanging up posters all afternoon."

Katsuki stepped forward and raised his finger. "Oh, yeah? I bet we'll finish before you do, copycat!"

Blondie's eyes flashed at the insult and his smile wavered. "Is that a challenge? "

"Bakugou, let's just–" Shitty Hair tried to say.

"Damn right it's a challenge!" Katsuki shot back. He pointed down the hallway behind him. "We'll take this side–" Then, he pointed towards the hallway behind Blondie's group. "And you take that side! First group to make it to the first years' teacher's lounge wins! "

The green-haired girl raised a hand. "This seems a bit ridiculous–"

"You're on ," Blondie decided. Then, his smile grew wide, almost manic, and he laughed. "I bet we have more posters than you to hang up, too! How embarrassing will it be when we beat you!"

"Well, I bet we have more than you do!" Katsuki argued. "How many did you make?!"

Wild Eyes flashed his sharp teeth. "Fifteen."

"I think we made sixteen?" Shitty Hair replied. "Our posters came in packs of four–"

"Aha!" Katsuki cut in. "We made more than you!"

With a frown, Blondie growled. "Quality matters over quantity!"

"Alright, guys, are we gonna hang up our posters or not? " Tape Arms questioned loudly. "We're wasting daylight!"

Katsuki readied his stance. "You ready?"

"Only as ready as you are to lose," Blondie vowed. He held up a free hand and popped up three fingers. "On the count of three?"

A growl escaped Katsuki. "One…"

"Oh, God, is this really happening?" Sparky asked quietly.

"Two…" Blondie drawled. Then, he grinned and turned on heel. "Three!"

Katsuki's eyes widened. "You fuckin' cheater! "

A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Shitty Hair gesturing to follow. "Bakugou, take it easy, man! Losing your cool isn't gonna do you any favors."

"Don't you think this is a bit insane?" Sparky asked as the rest of 1-B's committee took off after Blondie. He let out a yelp when Katsuki grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forward. "Gah!"

" Move it, extras!" Katsuki ordered. Then, as they drew close to the corner of the hallway, he skidded to a stop and pointed at a blank spot on the wall. "Tape Arms! Give us some tape to hang one up!"

Tape Arms sighed loudly. "I have a name , you know!"

"Less talking, more hanging!" Pinky cut in. Katsuki blinked and saw she had other posters lumped under her arm. "I grabbed some more from the classroom while you guys were talking!"

"Ashido, are you seriously going along with this?" Sparky blurted out.

Pinky placed a small stack in his grasp. "Those guys were being jerks! Let's show them that we won't take that lying down!"

Something warm flickered in Katsuki's chest and he found himself grinning. "That's what I like to hear!"

"Ah, what the hell?" Shitty Hair exhaled. He offered out his arms. "Hand me some!"

"Kirishima!" Sparky protested. "C'mon, man! Why does everything have to be life and death here?"

Katsuki slapped one of his posters onto the wall. "Because I'd rather die standing than live kneeling! "

Tape Arms blinked in surprise, then slowly closed his eyes. "God dammit , Bakugou, that just gave me goosebumps." He held up his elbow and pulled out a small piece of tape. "C'mon, guys! Let's beat them to the teacher's lounge!"

The teacher's lounge was especially quiet that Sunday afternoon. It felt like such a strange reprieve from the chaos that the week had brought all of U.A., and Toshinori wasn't entirely sure how to cope with it. He never did know what to do with peace and quiet when so much of his life had only known calamity and damage control.

'Feels strange to grade classwork after the week we've had…' he mused as he ran a red pen across the page in the margins. He furrowed his brows at the scribbled characters and circled them, marking them with a question mark. 'I should speak to young Kaminari about his penmanship on Monday…'

Then, he heard the sound of a door sliding open and glanced up briefly to catch who entered, stopping to blink when he caught the familiar visage of Vlad King. The Blood Hero's eyes scanned the room briefly until they caught onto Toshinori's form and something unknown passed over his features so swiftly that Toshinori couldn't identify it. With a small huff, the man adjusted his grip on his briefcase.

"Wasn't expecting to see anyone here today," he said, his eyes drifting down to Toshinori's hands. Vlad King arched a brow and pointed inquisitively. "You grading papers?"

"I am," Toshinori replied, though he felt awkward answering it and wasn't entirely sure why. He hadn't exactly gotten the chance to speak with Vlad King outside of the meeting the night of the U.S.J. attack and that had been a group discussion; now that they were alone, the pressure seemed to feel more intense. "What about you?"

Vlad King placed his briefcase on the desk opposite to Toshinori and cracked it open. "The same. I was also planning on going over the syllabus to adjust our lessons, since the attack caused us to have to shift some stuff around." He let out an annoyed scoff and shook his head. "I spent months making this syllabus and now I have to rearrange everything all over again."

Toshinori had it in him to snort. "I know how you feel… I went to Nedzu on Thursday when school was out to rearrange my syllabus, as well." He smiled sympathetically. "I had to scrap a bank robbery simulation and make it an extra credit assignment so that the first years could get a proper lesson in search and rescue down at the U.S.J., since they didn't get a chance to start due to…" He gestured vaguely with his free hand. "Well, you know."

"The attack," Vlad King murmured, inferring Toshinori's implication. His eyes flicked back down to his papers as he pulled them out and set them on a clear spot on the desk. "Not exactly the most safe and secure way to learn rescue procedures."

"That it isn't," Toshinori responded, feeling some of the tension leave him. He sat up a bit straighter. "You know, we… never really properly introduced ourselves, did we? You're Class 1-B's homeroom teacher, correct?"

Vlad King nodded, but didn't look up. "I am."

"Got yourself a good class." He pointed to a separate pile of papers, a stack that he already graded. "There are a lot of bright minds in there. Kendo stands out in particular– she's your class' lead rep, is she not?"

A hint of warmth spread to Vlad King's expression as his eyes trailed down the paper. "She is. Everyone was pretty on board with her getting the position."

"I can see why," Toshinori went on. He recalled the first exercise he did with Class 1-B and she stood out in his mind. "You know, during the Heroes vs. Villains exercise, she was first up on the line-up and really set the bar high for the class. Sure, there's room for improvement, but that's to be expected with first years." He brought his attention back down to the paper he was grading and marked another question. "If the class is performing this well this early into the year, I'm excited to see how they'll grow when we reach year's end."

Vlad King's eyes flitted up to meet his, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin. "It was Yagi, was it? You teach the Heroics and Public Relations class?"

"I do," he affirmed. His hand drifted to the back of his head and he chuckled a bit awkwardly. "It's my first year teaching, so I've been learning a bit as I go. Thankfully, the kids have been easy to deal with."

"It's a good thing, too," Vlad King replied, "first years can be a bit rowdy at the beginning of the year. Looks like we've been blessed with an easy class." Then, he gestured down to the stack before him. "Well… save for grading papers. That never gets easier."

Toshinori chuckled. "Paperwork never does, does it?"

A small laugh rumbled in Vlad King's throat and his eyes trailed down. "That it doesn't."

The awkwardness that Toshinori felt seemed to ebb, if only a bit, and his shoulders relaxed. He had spoken to his fellow Pros before, but it was always with a puffed out chest and a bright smile. It felt strange to simply converse with a hero when he himself wasn't presented as one.

"It's a shame that we have to push the U.S.J. training simulation off for a couple of weeks," Vlad King commented. He moved the paper he just marked further down the desk and slipped the next sheet off the top of the pile. "1-B was looking forward to practicing rescue procedures down at the U.S.J. The simulated environments tend to be excellent training for the Sports Festival."

"I suppose so… You never know what to expect from the Sports Festival."

A snort escaped Vlad King. "Not that it'll matter, in the end…"

Toshinori arched a brow. "I beg your pardon?"

Vlad King blinked, as if he realized he spoke a thought aloud rather than to himself, and it didn't pass Toshinori's notice when his hands stilled in the midst of gathering his papers.

"It's nothing," Vlad King replied, not meeting Toshinori's gaze. He pulled one from the stack and clicked his pen just a bit too fiercely for him to be calm. "Forget it."

"Is… something on your mind?" Toshinori braved asking. It felt like he was toeing the line with what was appropriate to ask when he had only just made a connection with his colleague. "Are you worried about the Sports Festival because of the attack?"

The man's protruding bottom teeth pressed into his upper lip. "In a sense…"

A sigh escaped Toshinori. "Of course… You know, I spoke to Principal Nedzu about it, but he assured me that with an increase in security, everything would be fine. But still, it feels too soon to be–"

"No, no," Vlad King interjected, waving a hand. He let out a sharp exhale and brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. "It's… It's stupid. I know it's stupid. But I can't help but feel a bit bitter."

"'Bitter'?" Toshinori repeated. He set his pen down. "About what?"

Another sigh escaped his colleague. "Rationally speaking, I recognize what happened at the U.S.J. was out of the control of everyone, especially the students. None of them asked to be attacked." Then, he dragged a hand down his face and peered at his papers. "But I've seen how everyone has been treating 1-A… I keep hearing the whispers from everyone about the class that survived a villain attack, both in and out of school. I hear Pros talking about how they're gonna come down just to see them in action and it's… frustrating because 1-B has just as much talent as the rest of the first years, but that won't matter because they didn't 'overcome' anything in comparison to 1-A."

It was spoken with a level of resignation that Toshinori knew from many years of service to the public. As a Pro, someone could do something to the best of their abilities and make the best judgment calls possible in a high-tension situation, but there would always be critics discussing and comparing them to one another. The sad truth was that, even with the best of intentions, Pros could fall subject to the whims of the media and whatever narrative they wished to push.

"You feel like they'll be overshadowed no matter what," Toshinori concluded.

Vlad King nodded begrudgingly. "I don't envy 1-A's position… They're training to be heroes, sure, but they were barely halfway through their first week when they got attacked. They didn't sign up for that." He ran a hand through his hair with another ragged sigh. "But that won't matter… The media's already sold on the idea of them being this class of powerful kids and now, that's all everyone's going to focus on."

"It's a… tricky situation, to be sure," Toshinori admitted, not sure what advice to offer. When he delivered PSAs, it was done with a bright smile and was rehearsed time and time again to make sure he got it down right. He wasn't good at coming up with advice on the fly– he hardly got close enough to other people to allow himself to do so. "But be that as it may, training will still aid them in their performance. So long as your class performs well, there will be eyes on them at the Sports Festival."

"Perhaps," Vlad King conceded, though he didn't seem convinced, "but they'll have to work twice as hard to meet the same level of recognition… And I would rather my class focus on performing well overall than simply trying to out-do 1-A just to prove themselves."

Toshinori offered him what he hoped to be a reassuring smile. "I trust that your class will prove themselves on their own merit. Despite everything, I don't think they view 1-A as their sole competition and will treat them as they would any competitor. It's unbecoming for heroes-in-training to be so petty."

Then, as if the universe were simply waiting for a chance to prove him wrong, a loud voice from the hallway reverberated through the walls of the teacher's lounge: "You fucking wanna-bes cheated! "

Vlad King's eyes shot wide open and he turned. "What's going on out there?"

Toshinori found himself standing up from his desk, the voice outside the door registering as all too familiar. "Oh, no, no, no ."

His feet carried him to the door before he knew it and Vlad King tailed behind him as he slid it open, revealing a crowd of students from both 1-A and 1-B. Standing in front of 1-A's group was Bakugou, his face red from anger and his hand raised indignantly while Kirishima tried and failed to calm him down. Kaminari tried to gesture for them to keep it down while Ashido shouted from behind Bakugou and Sero put his hand over his face with a tired look. On 1-B's side, Monoma shouted back at Bakugou with vigor, his lips pulled up into an almost manic smile as he tried to laugh off Bakugou's claims. Tetsutetsu shouted angrily while Tokage and Tsuburaba tried to hold him back from doing anything reckless. Tsunotori hid behind Fukidashi, whose thought bubble-shaped head seemed to shrink down amidst the shouting. Bondo turned towards the door as it opened and he visibly ducked his head down a bit upon seeing his homeroom and Heroics teacher staring at the group.

Tiring of shouting, Toshinori brought his index finger and thumb to his lips, then let out a loud, sharp whistle that pierced through the air. "Everyone, quiet down , now!"

The group went silent and all turned to the doorway, their eyes widening collectively. Some had the grace to look sheepish and embarrassed while others like Bakugou, Monoma and Tetsutetsu appeared indignant.

"Anyone want to tell us what's going on?" Toshinori questioned. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared the group down. "What is the meaning of this?"

In almost perfect unison, Monoma and Bakugou pointed at each other and shouted, " He started it!"

"Nuh-uh!" Tetsutetsu protested, raising his fist. "It's Mr. Explosive over there who started it!"

Kirishima, who seemed exhausted and annoyed, threw his hands up. "You were the ones who came in with all that attitude for no reason!"

"Well, you guys were the one who suggested we make this stupid thing a competition!" Tokage shot back. She rolled her eyes and turned to Monoma. "Seriously, Monoma, what is your deal today?"

"His deal is that he's a giant piece of–" Ashido began to say.

Vlad King clapped his large hands together. "That's enough! No more shouting! This isn't preschool – you're heroes-in-training, so you better act like it!"

The group fell silent again and as their gazes fell away from their teachers, Toshinori found himself sighing. "Does anyone want to explain what happened here? Calmly? "

"Uh…" drawled Kaminari, who slowly raised his hand. "I can, I guess?"

Toshinori nodded. "Go on, young Kaminari."

"Right," he replied, bringing his hands together anxiously, "well, it started with us making posters in 1-A's classrooms– we're the public relations committee, in case you didn't know–" He waved at Vlad King, who arched a brow in response. "–and while we were working on some of our posters, Monoma came over from next door looking for some scissors and then that guy–" He pointed at Tetsutetsu, who growled. "–came in calling us a bunch of brats and Monoma called Bakugou an ego-maniac–"

"Because he is ," Monoma hissed, his eyes staring hard at the floor. They flitted up to Bakugou's face, which had twisted in anger once again. "You're so sure you're gonna win the Sports Festival and think you're so special because you got to fight villains!"

"Oh, I'll show you something special– " Bakugou retorted.

"Young Bakugou," Toshinori snapped, cutting him off. He narrowed his eyes when the boy's gaze met with his. "What exactly did we talk about?"

All it took was a single blink for the features on Bakugou's face to change and the fire in his eyes dimmed, if only a bit. Bakugou pursed his lips and looked away, his arms crossing over his chest, as if he were dropping down the gate to his walls and refusing access. Once it became clear he wouldn't speak up again, Toshinori turned to Monoma.

"And young Monoma," he went on, "it's not fair of you to say such things about your peers. If you have nothing nice to say, then don't say it at all."

"But he–" Monoma tried to say.

Vlad King held up a hand. " Enough interruptions" Then, his eyes trailed to Kaminari, who shrank down a bit beneath his heated gaze. "What happened next?"

Kaminari twiddled with his fingers. "Uh, well, Bakugou got annoyed–"

"If you mean pissed ," Sero muttered.

"Yeah, pretty much," Kaminari amended, "and then Ashido tried to tell everyone to mellow out and Sero offered to go get some scissors for Monoma, but Monoma said no and then before they left, Monoma said, 'nice posters.' " He said it in a mocking voice that conveyed disdain. "Which was, like, so rude, so Bakugou helped us get into gear and we started churning out posters– we had a whole assembly line, it was pretty cool! Bakugou and Kirishima sketched them, Ashido and I colored– though she didn't let me pick any colors, which sucked– and then Sero inked them–"

Toshinori coughed into a fist. "And?"

"Oh, right!" Kaminari said, shaking his head a bit. "Anyway, after we were done, we went out to the hall and Monoma was out there, too, and he kept making comments and bragging about how they finished their posters and then Bakugou saw that Monoma copied one of his posters that he was working on when Monoma came in–"

"I took inspiration! " Monoma exclaimed.

"What did I just say?" Vlad King growled, and Monoma flinched.

Kaminari held up his hands. "And then Bakugou got peeved and then Monoma was like, 'oh I bet you'll spend all afternoon putting posters up,' so Bakugou challenged him to see who could finish putting them all up first and the first people who made to the teacher's lounge–" He gestured to the doorway. "–wins! I thought it was crazy, of course, and so did some people from 1-B–"

" Thank you!" Tokage exhaled, clearly exasperated.

"–And that brings us here!" Kaminari finished. He gestured to the walls on either side of the door. "Monoma and Bakugou put their posters up at the exact same time, so they started arguing about who actually finished first, which is why you heard shouting."

Toshinori's eyes trailed to where Kaminari was pointing and he blinked. Resting on each side of the door were two posters with identical elements, showing the visage of All Might and the school motto, "Plus Ultra!" in big, dynamic letters. There was no denying the similarities between them, although the difference in style and coloring showed that two different people did, in fact, make it.

"I see," he said finally. Then, he turned back to the group with a sigh. "Listen– there's nothing wrong with friendly competition. But this certainly did not start with the friendliest of intentions, and it shows with how you chose to interact with each other."

Vlad King nodded. "I understand that in the hero course, there will be times where you compete with your peers. But this sort of behavior is not becoming of heroes-in-training– even that of first years, like yourself. We expect better out of our students here at U.A." He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a good thing Yagi and I were here to diffuse things before it escalated further."

Toshinori nodded solemnly. "I understand that you got off to a bit of a rocky start… But going forward, I expect you all to at least attempt to handle your disagreements with more decorum. For all we know, there may be times where you will have to work together as Pros. Do not let something small like this get in the way of future partnerships where your actions can have severe consequences."

The students all remained silent as their teachers' words sank in, and in the crowd, Monoma and Bakugou pointedly did not meet the gaze of anyone in the hallway. Bakugou's fists were clenched tightly enough that his knuckles turned white while Monoma's fingers were flexed into the shapes of claws. When no one spoke up, Vlad King took a deep breath.

"If there's nothing else for the committees to do today," Vlad King announced, drawing the group's attention back to him, "I would like for you all to return to the classrooms and clean up whatever supplies you used to make your posters and then head home to rest." He turned to 1-B's committee. "I'll let you off with a warning– this time."

"And I'll do you all the favor of not bringing this up to your homeroom teacher," Toshinori told 1-A's committee, who wilted a bit more. Despite having been injured during the attack, Toshinori knew that none of them wanted to risk making Aizawa upset when he had a history of expulsions behind him. "I implore you to heed Vlad's advice and clean up your supplies– without fighting your peers. Understood?"

"Yes, Sensei," the group replied.

Toshinori nodded. "Alright, then. I'll see you all tomorrow in class. I hope you'll be in better spirits then."

With that dismissal, 1-A's committee made their way down the hallway. Once their backs rounded the corner, Toshinori turned to see 1-B's committee gone from the hallway, as well. Then, with a resigned sigh, he placed a hand over his face.

"So what was that you were saying about our kids not being petty?" Vlad King questioned. Toshinori peeked through his fingers to see his colleague's lips pulled up into a half-smile. "Guess that was wishful thinking on our part, huh?"

Toshinori snorted and dropped his hand. "I suppose so."

Vlad nudged him lightly with an elbow. "C'mon, lighten up… I'm sure with time, they'll grow to have a more healthy competitive relationship with each other. It's part of being a Pro."

"It is," he conceded. Then, his smile faltered. "But it's sad to see that the U.S.J. attack caused such a rift…" He straightened up his posture and brushed one of his long bangs out of his face. "Hopefully we'll be able to manage any potential tiffs in the future before they turn into something worse."

"I'll be sure to bring it up to Hound Dog later," Vlad King assured him. When Toshinori gave him a perplexed look, Vlad King chuckled. "He's the lifestyle guidance counselor on campus. I know he can be bit–" He gestured vaguely with his hand, as if trying to pluck the right word out of the air. "– intense sometimes, but he's effective at conflict resolution."

A flicker of warmth hit Toshinori in the chest at the earnest suggestion. "That would be grand."

Vlad King clapped a hand down on Toshinori's shoulder, nearly causing him to jump. "Not a problem, newbie. We're all in this together." Then, he lifted his hand up and jerked his thumb in the direction of the teacher's lounge. "But first, let's go ahead and get finished up with grading all those papers. They're not gonna do it themselves."

"No, they're not," Toshinori replied, a smile gracing his lips as he turned to enter the lounge with his colleague, "no, they're not."

Katsuki didn't say a word as he and the rest of the committee cleaned up the classroom, nor did he speak when they gathered their things to leave. His mind was in a fog as he mulled over the events of the day and the Grim Reaper's words more times than he'd like.

"What did we talk about?" his teacher had said. Katsuki hated that that alone was enough to draw him into silence, for the old man's words from their discussion on the second day of class still hung heavily on his mind. The prideful part of him wanted to rebuke his words, to push them aside and forget them, to shout back that he knew nothing. But the intensity in the old man's eyes claimed otherwise and Katsuki despised it, because it meant having to contend with the very real possibility that he was wrong.

'Stupid fucking wanna-bes,' he thought as he made it to the main entrance of the school. Blondie's patronizing smile and his arsenic words left a bitter taste in Katsuki's mouth that he wished he could spit back onto the stupid little extra's face. However, what was done was done and there was no use in going back inside to find him, especially when he had already been reprimanded. 'I'm gonna make him eat those fucking words one of these days…'

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he didn't even have to check to know who it was from. Still, he pulled his phone out regardless, then frowned when he saw his mother's contact ID pop up in his text notifications.

"When do you think you'll be home?" it read to him. "I want to know when to start up dinner."

Katsuki resisted the urge to sigh. He was not in the mood to go home after the day he had, and he certainly wasn't in the mindset to sit through dinner and talk about it. She'd want to hear all about the posters they made and if it was fun when all he wanted to do was just go to his room and forget the entire day happened at all. He stared down at the text ruefully, weighing the options of not replying and if that would make her yell at him when he got home.

"So which place did we say we were gonna stop by to grab some pizza?" asked Sparky, causing him to break out of his thoughts.

Katsuki turned towards him. "What?"

"Pizza?" repeated Pinky. "You know, the thing we said we were gonna get after finishing the posters?"

"Pizza-la does takeout," offered Shitty Hair. A savory look passed over his face and he grinned. "There's one a couple blocks from here that doesn't skimp on tomato sauce."

Tape Arms eyes lit up. "Oh, hell yeah. Their UFO special is to die for."

"You guys still want to get pizza?" Katsuki responded, somewhat in disbelief. He turned to face the group head-on. "We just got told off by our teachers for acting like idiots ." In the moment, he did not recognize that he included himself that "we." "Why the hell do you wanna go out to eat after that? "

Shitty Hair shrugged. "I dunno, pizza is pizza, man. We worked hard on those posters. Kinda seems like a waste not to reward ourselves, y'know?"

"And we're not gonna use the budget to do it!" Sparky pointed out, holding up his hands. He chuckled a bit nervously. "I know you got onto us for that before, so we'll be paying out of pocket."

"Plus, we can always get ice cream!" Pinky added. She held up her phone. "I looked up the location of the pizza place on my GPS and there's an ice cream place next door!"

The prideful part of Katsuki wanted to turn down the offer, to simply roll his eyes and turn around to walk home. However, the stupid, primal part of him recognized that he was hungry– really hungry, and that pizza and ice cream sounded a lot better than his mother's usual Sunday dinners. His eyes briefly trailed down to his phone, where her text was still showing on his screen.

"Hey," said Shitty Hair, causing him to look up, "you in?"

With a slight grimace, Katsuki's eyes flitted back down to his phone screen. "I just gotta shoot a text real quick." He pointedly didn't refer to his mother; it just felt weird to.

"Cool!" Sparky replied. "To Pizza-la, we go!"

"And then ice cream!" cheered Pinky.

As the group began to walk ahead, Katsuki drummed up a quick response to his mother's text. "Be home in an hour. Eating with the committee."

Some part of him acknowledged that just a couple days prior, being lumped with the committee to begin with felt like a form of divine punishment, and now, he was choosing to eat with them of his own volition when he had no obligation to. However, that part of him was immediately shoved down and ignored by the justification that Katsuki was just hungry and would rather not eat with his family while he was in a sour mood.

"For the record," said Shitty Hair as Katsuki tucked his phone into his pocket, "I think our posters were way better than those other guys." He bumped his shoulder into Katsuki's lightly. "Why else would they copy your idea?"

The spiteful, untrustful instinct that dwelled within Katsuki wanted to scoff and roll his eyes at the comment– and yet, he felt a sincere sense of flattery that caused the tension in his shoulders to dissipate just a bit. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, much less to Shitty Hair.

"Tch," he muttered instead, "yeah, well, at least they know how to sketch out their characters before inking them."

"Hey!" Shitty Hair exclaimed.

Tape Arms snickered behind a hand. "They were pretty bad, dude."

"At least you didn't color them in with yellow on a white background," Pinky teased, her eyes sliding over to Sparky as she waggled her brows.

"Oh, you guys are never gonna let me hear the end of that, are you?" Sparky groused.

Shitty Hair cracked a smile as the others laughed and, to Katsuki's surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards, albeit for a fraction of a second. He decided not to think about it.