Chapter Eighteen – Picking Names

The remedial classes weren't as bad as Clay had expected. From the very first minute, it was obvious that Present Mic didn't want to be there any more than he did—a fact Clay quickly realized was a blessing in disguise. Instead of a grueling lecture, it was more like two guys shooting the breeze in an empty classroom. Sure, it was earlier in the morning than Clay would have preferred, but being an early riser, he could roll with it.

The first session started off awkward, though. Present Mic, with a look of poorly concealed amusement, queued up the viral video of Clay smashing the chair over the robber. The video played on the classroom monitor, complete with Clay's sarcastic lecture to the would-be thief, his thanks for buying an American-made firearm, and his sheepish apology to the shop owner about the chair, complete with a question about how much he owed.

Present Mic paused the video at a particularly unflattering freeze-frame, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "So… you're, uh, quite the character, huh?"

"It got results," Clay said, leaning back in his seat, his eyes closed and his hands laced behind his head.

Skipper wasn't perched on his shoulder as usual; instead, the little rat sat neatly on the desk before him, his posture stiff with indignation. He still hadn't quite forgiven Clay for leaving him behind on his date, and the fact that Momo had taken it upon herself to craft a cage for him hadn't helped matters.

The cage, a meticulously constructed blend of polished wood and reinforced steel bars, was a masterpiece in craftsmanship but an insult to Skipper's pride. It sat on the shelf above Clay's desk open and unoccupied, though Skipper still cast the occasional glare in its direction as if it had personally offended him when they were in the dorm room.

Clay opened one eye, glancing at his sulking companion. "C'mon, Skip, it's not like she meant harm," he said with a chuckle. "She probably even added those fancy carvings for you."

Skipper twitched his whiskers in response, clearly unconvinced.

The first lesson barely touched on branding, outside of showcasing the viral video. Clay couldn't help but feel that the true purpose of the class wasn't what it seemed. Maybe it was less about learning and more about bridging the gap between him and Present Mic. Either that, or Principal Nezu, in a rare misstep, was unaware of just how ineffective the class truly was.

"So, what was I supposed to do? Not break a chair over his back?" Clay asked, reaching out to scratch Skipper. The rat, still nursing his grudge, snapped at Clay's finger, forcing him to pull his hand back with a sigh.

Present Mic shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know, man. Public trust in heroes went up after the video went viral, and they're still making memes about you. Honestly, that's about the best you could hope for."

"Sero showed me a few," Clay said with a low laugh, leaning back in his chair. "Any new good ones?"

"Yeah, hold on," Present Mic replied, pulling out his phone with a grin. After a few swipes, he held the screen out for Clay to see. The meme featured a still frame of Clay mid-chair swing, the splinters flying dramatically through the air. Over it, bold text read: American ingenuity: turning chairs into justice.

"Not bad," Clay said, crossing his arms and stifling a yawn. "So... does Nezu know you don't seem to think I did anything wrong?"

Present Mic chuckled, setting his phone down on the desk. "Nezu knows everything, dude. That's, like, his whole deal. If I had to guess, he probably sent you here just to see what you'd say about it—or maybe to give you a break from Aizawa's perpetual death glare. You know he originally wanted Aizawa to do it? I don't know why he changed his mind" He leaned forward, propping his chin on his hand as he studied Clay. "Honestly, though? You didn't do anything wrong. The world just likes to overcomplicate things."

Clay smirked faintly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. "So what's the lesson here, friend? Break chairs, win public approval?"

Present Mic laughed, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. "The lesson is... if you're gonna do something, own it. Nezu might call this a branding lesson, but I think he just wanted to remind you to be yourself. People seem to like it."

Skipper, still sulking, twitched his nose in what Clay took as begrudging agreement. He reached out to scratch the little rat again, this time earning only a half-hearted squeak of protest.

"Guess I'll keep it simple," Clay muttered, scratching his chin as he considered the day ahead. "Any chance Nezu's plannin' to slap me with actual punishments, or is this the worst of it?"

Present Mic leaned back, his grin turning mischievous. "Hard to say. But if this is as bad as it gets, you might wanna enjoy it. Something tells me you've got a knack for finding trouble."

"I'd argue that trouble just has a way of findin' me," Clay said with a shrug. "Ain't my fault Monoma tried to headbutt my fist."

Present Mic let out a loud yawn, making no effort to hide it. "So… your weakness is sound? Someone told me you said I'm your hard counter."

"I did say that," Clay admitted without hesitation. "When things get too noisy, I can't focus, and my rats stop listenin'. Overstimulation or whatever."

Present Mic nodded thoughtfully, his normally lively demeanor momentarily subdued. "Makes sense. Everyone's got something that throws them off their game." He tapped his fingers lightly on the desk. "That's good self-awareness, though. Some heroes go their whole careers without figuring that out."

"Don't need rats to throw a punch," Clay said with a dry chuckle. "That's God's honest truth."

Present Mic burst into laughter, slapping the desk with an open palm. "Honest? You're like a throwback, man. Old-school hero vibes. I dig it."

Clay smirked, though his eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. "Guess I'll take that as a compliment. This lesson got a time limit? I'd like to get breakfast before the pancakes get cold."

Present Mic glanced at the clock, then back at Clay with a knowing grin. "We've got another fifteen minutes," he said with a shrug. "But I don't think this is about pancakes. You're itchin' to follow up with your date, aren't you?"

Clay snorted and rolled his eyes. "Don't know why everyone's making such a big deal outta that…"

Present Mic leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as his grin turned downright mischievous. "Come on, Clay, don't play coy. You had a date. That's a big deal! What's next—matching hero costumes?"

Clay raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You sound like Mina. It was just ice cream, and I didn't exactly have time to plan for a villain cameo."

"Oh, but you made time for a grand gesture!" Present Mic teased, holding his hands dramatically over his chest as if moved by the memory. "'Saving the day and the girl in one fell swoop—how romantic!'"

Clay groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm startin' to think this class is punishment after all."

Present Mic's laughter filled the room, loud and unapologetic. "Nah, man, this is your warm-up for when the tabloids catch wind. 'Rats and Romance: U.A.'s Cowboy Hero Sweeps Frog Princess Off Her Feet!'"

Clay pushed back his chair and stood, smoothing his flannel. He hated every word of that. "I'll be sure to sign the first magazine for you." He scooped Skipper up, letting the little rat perch in his pocket. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got pancakes to catch before they're cold."

Present Mic gave him a mock salute, still grinning. "Enjoy breakfast, Romeo! And don't let all the swooning fans trip you up on the way there."

Clay waved him off with a smirk, heading for the door. Skipper poked his head out of the pocket, chittering softly.

"Relax, buddy," Clay muttered as they walked down the hall. "We're just getting breakfast. If anyone asks about the date, I'll say it was sweet as maple syrup."

Skipper squeaked in a way that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and Clay couldn't help but grin as they made their way to the cafeteria.

"Yeah, keep laughin' and I'll have Momo babysit you next time."

Clay made it to the cafeteria just in time to spot Tsuyu sitting at a table, her breakfast neatly arranged before her. With an easy grin, he slid into the seat across from her, pulling Skipper out of his pocket and setting the little rat on the table.

"Is Mina around?" Clay asked with a chuckle, watching as Skipper eagerly began lapping up stray drips of maple syrup from a saucer he slid over.

Tsuyu blinked slowly, her usual calm expression unshaken as she finished a bite of her food. "Not yet, ribbit," she replied, her tone as even as always. "But I wouldn't be surprised if she shows up. She's probably still looking at the pictures she took last night."

Clay let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair. "Figures. Thought she'd at least give me the morning off before startin' round two." He glanced down at Skipper, who was now thoroughly engrossed in the syrup. "Looks like someone's already enjoying his breakfast, though."

Tsuyu tilted her head slightly, watching Skipper with faint amusement. "You spoil him, ribbit," she said, her tone light but direct.

"He's earned it," Clay replied, scratching the back of his neck with a grin. "Had to put up with Momo's fancy cage and me leavin' him behind. He's got a right to be mad."

Tsuyu's gaze shifted back to Clay, her wide eyes studying him for a moment before she spoke. "You're in a good mood this morning."

Clay shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast from his tray and taking a bite. "Wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be," he said, his tone casual as he chewed. "I've got the rest of the day off, and I only gotta do it one more time. Then my sentence is served."

He paused, his eyes flicking up to Tsuyu, a faint hint of hesitation crossing his face. "I'm really more concerned about the question I'm gonna ask you."

Tsuyu tilted her head slightly, her calm expression unwavering. "I had fun last night, ribbit," she said, her tone soft but steady. "I would like to do it again, though stopping an armed robbery might not be fun if we have to do it every time," she said, raising a finger to her lips thoughtfully.

The next day's remedial class was much the same as the first—just Clay and Present Mic killing time, swapping casual banter, and silently willing the clock to tick faster. Present Mic had shown up with a fresh coffee in hand and spent the first ten minutes scrolling through memes on his phone while Clay doodled aimlessly in a notebook. At one point, Present Mic tried to brainstorm ways Clay could "brand" himself as the chair-wielding hero, which mostly consisted of bad puns involving splinters and wood. Clay chuckled politely but otherwise didn't bite.

By the end of the session, they both seemed relieved to call it a day. "So… we done?" Clay asked, glancing at the clock.

"Yup! Lesson learned, right?" Present Mic replied with a grin, tossing his empty coffee cup into the trash with an exaggerated arm motion.

"Sure," Clay said with a smirk, gathering his things.

Back in the regular classroom, Clay was oddly happy to return to his peers. The two days of rest seemed to have done everyone some good—most of the class was in high spirits, chatting and laughing over the break's events. Mina chattered excitedly about being famous, and the floating set of clothes insisted that people were looking at her. Exceptions, of course, were easy to spot.

Bakugo sat in his usual seat, arms crossed and brow furrowed, glaring at nothing in particular. Obvious reasons, Clay thought with a small shake of his head. Then there was Iida, whose usually precise and upright demeanor seemed off. His shoulders sagged slightly, and there was a weight in his eyes that hadn't been there before. From what Clay could gather, it had something to do with a villain attack involving his brother.

Clay leaned back in his seat, glancing at the lively conversations around him. Even though the day had just started, he could tell it was going to be one of those strange, in-between days where tension and camaraderie mingled in equal measure.

"I got, like, five ladies to give me their number," Mineta bragged to Kaminari, his voice a mix of excitement and self-satisfaction. "Tonight, I'll ask them to send me—"

"I'm not allowed to threaten you anymore, Mineta," Clay interrupted, his tone calm and even, his eyes still fixed forward. Skipper, perched on his shoulder, turned his beady eyes toward Mineta, his tiny body stiff with unspoken menace.

Clay continued, his voice carrying a casual, almost lazy edge. "That means when I do somethin', you won't see it comin'."

Momo Yaoyorozu was the next to walk into the classroom, her posture as impeccable as ever.

"You're only four minutes early," Clay drawled, glancing at her with a faint smirk. "That ain't like you.

Momo raised an eyebrow at Clay's comment, her lips curving into a polite smile. "The morning's been... eventful," she replied, her gaze shifting briefly to Skipper perched on Clay's shoulder. "Speaking of events, I wanted to apologize to him for the cage. I hadn't realized he'd take it personally."

Clay's smirk widened as he scratched Skipper's head. "Well, you can try. Can't promise he's in a forgivin' mood, though."

Momo stepped closer, her movements composed, as she extended her hand toward Skipper with a small piece of cheese in her palm. "I'd like to make amends," she said, her tone calm and sincere. "This is for you."

Skipper twitched his whiskers, leaning forward as if to consider the offering. For a moment, it seemed like he might accept the peace offering—only for him to spin around dramatically and scurry down Clay's arm, nestling himself in the crook of his elbow with an air of defiant dismissal.

Mina, who had just strolled in, burst into laughter, clutching her sides. "Oh my gosh, Momo, you just got rejected by a rat!" she exclaimed, her grin wide and mischievous. "Skipper's savage!"

Momo's expression faltered slightly, though she quickly composed herself. "I suppose he's entitled to his feelings," she said, adjusting her hair with practiced poise.

Clay chuckled, gently patting Skipper's back. "Don't take it too hard, Momo. He holds a grudge, but he'll come 'round. Eventually."

"Yeah, maybe after, like, a hundred more apologies," Mina teased, plopping down into her seat with an exaggerated grin. "I didn't think Skipper had this much personality, but honestly? I'm here for it."

Skipper chittered indignantly, clearly reveling in the attention as Clay leaned back in his seat. "Welcome to the club," Clay said with a lazy smirk. "He's been makin' his opinions known since day one."

Mina grinned, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look. "So, does this mean he's got opinions about Tsuyu, too?"

Skipper turned his head toward Mina, his beady eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Yeah," Clay said, leaning slightly to the side to narrowly avoid a sharp nip at his ear from Skipper. The little rat was chittering furiously, his tiny paws gripping Clay's shoulder as if trying to physically stop him.

Undeterred, Clay continued, his tone casual, completely unaware of the bomb he was about to arm. "He let Tsu scratch his ears last night," he said with a smirk.

Skipper froze for a split second before launching into a full-on protest, squeaking indignantly and tugging at the collar of Clay's white uniform shirt as if to pull him back from his mistake.

Mina's jaw dropped, her eyes sparkling with delight as she leaned even closer. "No way! Skipper let Tsuyu scratch his ears? That's, like, his ultimate form of approval!"

Skipper turned his beady eyes toward Mina, his tiny body trembling with indignation as he chittered furiously. Clay, still wearing a smug grin, gently nudged the little rat with his finger. "Calm down, buddy. You're makin' a scene."

Momo, now seated nearby, arched an eyebrow, her earlier rejection forgotten in the wake of the unfolding drama. "It sounds like Skipper has excellent taste," she said with a faint smile, clearly amused by the situation.

Skipper whirled on Momo, letting out a high-pitched squeak that was less indignation and more of an offended how dare you. Mina, meanwhile, was practically falling out of her chair with laughter. "Oh, this is gold," she wheezed, wiping at her eyes. "Clay's got a second wingman, and he's loyal to Tsuyu. Skipper, you're officially my favorite person here."

Clay chuckled, leaning back in his chair again. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head, Skip. You're still gonna need to work on that apology for Momo."

Momo raised an elegant eyebrow, her expression calm but tinged with curiosity. "He hasn't done anything to me, has he?"

Clay's smirk widened ever so slightly, his tone light and casual. "Next time you put on your athletic shoes, you'll know."

Momo's reaction was immediate. She blinked, her usual composure faltering as her mouth opened slightly in a rare show of surprise. "What did you do to my shoes?" she asked, her voice sharp yet tinged with bewilderment.

The classroom door slid open with a soft clack, and Tsuyu stepped in with her usual unhurried stride, Ochaco right behind her. Tsuyu's wide eyes swept over the scene, pausing on the sight of Skipper perched on Clay's shoulder, his tiny head turned away from Momo in what could only be described as a sulking stance.

"Ribbit?" Tsuyu murmured, her gaze shifting between the group as she took her seat nearby. "What's going on?"

Mina was practically doubled over, barely able to get the words out through the fits of giggles threatening to overtake her. "We just found out—you're one of the blessed few allowed to scratch Skipper's ears!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with pure glee.

Tsuyu blinked slowly, her wide eyes shifting from Mina to Skipper, then to Clay. "I didn't realize it was that special, ribbit," she said, her tone as steady as ever, though a faint hint of amusement flickered in her voice.

Skipper let out a squeak of confirmation, his tiny body visibly relaxing as he turned his head toward Tsuyu. He even twitched his whiskers at her in what might have been approval, which only made Mina laugh harder.

"See? He's got taste, Tsu!" Mina teased, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "You're his favorite now. Better watch out—he's gonna start picking your side in fights."

Ochaco grinned, sliding into the seat next to Tsuyu. "It's official—you've won Skipper over. That's, like, a badge of honor around here."

Momo, still trying to process the revelation about her shoes, muttered under her breath. "I'll deal with this 'honor' when I next go to the gym…"

Clay, clearly enjoying the chaos, leaned back with a satisfied smirk. "See, Tsu? Skipper doesn't just trust anyone. Consider yourself lucky."

Tsuyu glanced at the little rat, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a deliberate motion, she extended a finger and gently scratched behind Skipper's ears.

Skipper immediately melted, his eyes closing as he leaned into the touch, his earlier grudge against Momo (and less potently, Clay) forgotten—for now.

"Ribbit," Tsuyu said simply, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles as Mina broke into another round of laughter.

"Morning…" Aizawa's voice crept through the room, low and lethargic as always.

Skipper immediately perked up on Clay's shoulder, standing a little straighter as if sensing the importance of what was coming.

"You need code names," Aizawa continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "So it's time to pick your hero identities."

The announcement hung in the air for a moment, but even without a sound or visible reaction, Clay could feel the shift in the room. Excitement crackled just beneath the surface, the unspoken energy of students who had clearly been waiting for this moment.

Clay, however, leaned back slightly in his seat, his mind oddly blank. The thought of a hero identity had never really occurred to him. It seemed like it would have a lot to do with branding, but oddly enough, Present Mic never seemed to bring it up. Aizawa was saying something quite boring about being recruited by pro heroes and what not, and it looked to Clay that Skipper was paying more attention than he was.

"Here are the total number of offers we've received for each student…" Aizawa droned, his voice as monotone as ever. With a click of his remote, the numbers flashed onto the chalkboard behind him. "Usually, they're more evenly spread out, but this time there's a pretty big gap…"

Clay squinted at the board, his eyes landing on his name written in Japanese. He found it odd—not just seeing his name like that, but the fact that it was the first time he'd really noticed it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp slap to his cheek, courtesy of Skipper's tail. The little rat perched on his shoulder with a look of stern insistence, as if to say, Pay attention.

Guess he thinks it's important, Clay mused, turning his focus back to the board. Scanning the list, he found his name near the bottom, nestled just above Kaminari's and just below Sero's, with a grand total of four offers.

"Despite these results… you will all be interning with pros. Got it? Even those of you who haven't received any offers." Aizawa's voice carried its usual weight, though the droning delivery was unchanged.

I wonder if they have sweet potato ice cream at the cafeteria… Clay thought absently, his focus drifting.

His reverie was cut short by another sharp slap from Skipper's tail.

"I'd listen to your rat, Derreks," Aizawa rumbled, his gaze shifting to Clay with a sharpness that made the rest of the room fall quiet. "You might not need an internship the same way the Japanese students do, but you've shown that you still need help with decision-making."

Clay shifted in his seat, suppressing the urge to say something. Skipper, meanwhile, puffed up on his shoulder, clearly satisfied with Aizawa backing him up.

"So, we need something to make you all memorable," Aizawa said.

"Hero names!" Ochaco chirped excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat. "Things are gonna get a lot more fun!"

"Many of these names will be temporary," Aizawa continued, his gaze sweeping the room. "So take them seriously, or—"

"There will be hell to pay!"

The dramatic interruption came from the doorway, where Midnight leaned against the frame with her signature flair.

Clay glanced over, his gaze locking onto her for a moment too long. A faint blush spread across his face as he quickly turned back toward the front, trying to mask his reaction. Skipper twitched his whiskers as if silently judging him.

Aizawa let out a long sigh, clearly unfazed by Midnight's entrance. "Yes, Midnight will be helping with your hero names," he said flatly, his tone indicating he'd rather be anywhere else. "Make them meaningful, memorable, and something you can stand behind, possibly for the rest of your career."

Midnight strode into the room, her confidence filling the space as she surveyed the students. "This is one of the most important steps in your journey to becoming pro heroes," she said dramatically, her voice filled with excitement. "It's your identity, your brand—what the world will call you for decades to come!"

Clay leaned back slightly, his expression skeptical. "Seems like a lotta pressure for just a name," he muttered under his breath.

"Pressure's part of the job," Aizawa shot back without missing a beat. "If you can't handle picking a name, how are you gonna handle life-or-death situations?"

"Fair…" Clay murmured, his voice low as he shifted in his seat.

"Try not to overthink it, and don't take too long," Aizawa instructed, already heading toward the door with his usual languid stride. "When Midnight releases you, go study for the ethics exam tomorrow…" he added, his tone carrying the faintest hint of exasperation, as if he doubted anyone actually would.

Midnight's lips curled into a devilish grin, her hand flicking a riding crop she'd seemingly produced out of thin air. "Oh, Eraserhead, you make it sound so formal," she said, her tone laced with teasing. "When I release them? That's a little tame, don't you think?" She tilted her head toward the students, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Should I make it more... memorable?"

The room collectively froze, a mix of awkward laughter and embarrassed coughs rippling through the students. Clay leaned over toward Tsuyu, muttering under his breath, "I thought this was a school, not a... club."

Tsuyu's calm expression didn't falter, but her quiet "ribbit" carried just enough dry humor to make Clay smirk. It helped the situation to be just a little less awkward, but only as normal as someone could feel when the instructor was seemingly hitting on every student at once.

God forbid something like this would happen at a high school… Clay thought, the mental image nearly making him go pale as opposed to blushing slightly. From the corner of his eye, he could practically hear the excited sweat dripping off Mineta.

"Tongue-tied?" Sero teased, tapping Clay's shoulder with a grin.

"Watch it…" Clay muttered, his voice low, though the warning carried just enough edge to make Sero chuckle and back off—slightly.

"Sorry, my hands are tied—I'm bound to mess with you," Sero said, flashing a mischievous grin.

"I'll duct tape you to a telephone pole, then," Clay grumbled, his tone dry as he watched Midnight move gracefully around the room, handing out large white cards and a thick black marker.

Midnight twirled the marker in her hand like a baton, her confidence filling the room. "Now, darlings," she began, her tone sultry yet somehow instructional, "these cards will be your blank slates. Your hero identities begin here." She handed one to Clay with a wink, then continued down the row.

Across the room, Mina waved her card like a flag. "This is gonna be fun!" she said, practically bouncing in her seat. "I already have three ideas—no, four!" She tapped her marker to her chin thoughtfully.

Midnight clapped her hands together, drawing everyone's attention back to her. "Remember, your name is more than just a word—it's your essence, your calling card! Make it count, my lovelies."

"Still feels like a lotta pressure for one word," Clay muttered, leaning toward Tsuyu again.

"Ribbit," she said softly, her tone thoughtful as she wrote something down in a calm, measured motion.

Clay's eyes drifted over to Skipper, who was perched on the edge of the desk, sniffing at the card as if offering his own critique. "What do you think, Skip?" he murmured.

Skipper squeaked, then nudged the card closer to Clay's hand.

"Alright, alright. Let me think," Clay said, tapping his marker against the desk.

From the back of the room, Mineta's excited giggles cut through the air, no doubt spurred on by Midnight's theatrics. "Bet you've got a name for me already, Midnight!"

Midnight stopped mid-stride and turned toward Mineta, her gaze sharp but still playful. "Oh, I'm sure I could think of a few, but you might not like them," she quipped, the edge in her tone earning laughs from the rest of the class.

Clay shook his head with a chuckle, then focused back on his card. "This school…" he muttered. "One of these days, I'm gonna figure out how Japan works without losin' my mind."

"So, we just write our name on the card and we can leave?" Shoto asked, his tone as calm and deliberate as ever.

"Almost!" Midnight replied, her beaming smile lighting up the room. She held up a card for emphasis, the marker in her other hand twirling dramatically between her fingers. "You have to stand up and tell everyone what your hero name will be. If you can't say it confidently to the class, how will you handle seeing it plastered across the news?"

Mina, now absolutely buzzing with energy, leaned forward on her desk, her eyes sparkling. "This is gonna be so good! I can't wait to hear everyone's names!" She shot Clay a sly grin. "Better make yours memorable, cowboy."

"Why don't you worry about your own card, Pinky?" Clay fired back, though his smirk betrayed the lack of bite in his words.

Midnight paced to the front of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. "Alright, who's going to be brave enough to go first? Show me that confidence, students!"

Ochaco hesitated for a moment before raising her hand, her expression a mix of determination and nervous excitement. "I'll go," she said, standing up.

"Good!" Midnight encouraged, gesturing for Ochaco to step forward. "Let's hear it!"

Ochaco took a deep breath, holding her card up for everyone to see. "Uravity," she announced, her voice clear and bright.

The class erupted into applause and cheers, Mina letting out an enthusiastic "That's so cute!" as Ochaco returned to her seat, her cheeks pink but her smile proud.

"See? Not so bad!" Midnight said, clapping her hands together. "Next!"

One by one, students began standing and presenting their names, some earning laughs, others applause, and a few nervous chuckles. The atmosphere in the room gradually lightened, though Clay stayed quiet, watching and thinking as Skipper twitched his whiskers.

When it was Mina's turn, she stood with a flourish, holding her card up high. "Pinky!" she declared with a dramatic bow.

"I'll be asking for royalties," Clay said with a laugh, leaning back in his chair.

"You wish, rat boy," Mina shot back, her grin wide and teasing.

Clay smirked but quickly turned his focus back to the card in front of him. Finding a name was proving harder than he'd expected. He was one of the last few still stuck, his mind caught between Pied Piper and Rat Catcher, with Rat King at a close third.

"At this point, it's a coin flip," he muttered to Skipper, who sat on his shoulder twitching his whiskers in silent judgment. Clay's brows furrowed as he scribbled the names in the corner of the card, hoping one would feel right.

By now, most of the students had already stood, confidently presented their chosen names, and obtained Midnight's approval. The growing pile of accepted cards on her desk only made Clay's indecision feel heavier.

"If this takes much longer, I'll start getting irritated, my bottoms," Midnight purred, her lips curling into a teasing smile as she gently licked them for effect.

Clay shot a glance at Skipper, who tilted his head as if in agreement, then looked back down at the card in front of him. "Okay, we're leaving," he muttered, quickly scribbling Rat Catcher in bold, decisive letters.

Standing up, he straightened his posture and held the card up for the room to see. "Rat Catcher," he announced, injecting as much confidence into his voice as he could muster. It wasn't as good as Froppy or Red Riot, but it did represent him, and that was really the best he could hope for.

The room fell silent for a brief moment, the weight of Clay's choice settling over the class. Then, Mina's voice rang out, brimming with excitement. "Oh my gosh, perfect!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I love it!"

Kirishima grinned from across the room, throwing Clay a thumbs-up. Sero followed suit, though Froppy came with a short, compassionate nod.

Skipper, however, seemed less impressed. He scurried down Clay's arm to perch on his wrist, glaring at the card as if to say, That's the best you could come up with?

Midnight approached, her heels clicking against the floor, and took the card from Clay's hand. She studied it with a dramatic flourish, her smile widening. "Simple, strong, and memorable. It's got a certain… gritty charm. Approved!"

Clay returned to his seat, his face relaxed into his usual smirk, though he couldn't ignore the slight relief washing over him. He leaned back, glancing at Skipper. "Don't start with me," he muttered under his breath. "It's better than Pied Piper."

Tsuyu turned around in her seat, her finger lightly touching her lip as she regarded him with her calm, wide-eyed expression. "It's a good name, ribbit," she said simply, her tone reassuring.

Skipper twitched his whiskers, chittering softly, though whether it was agreement or protest was anyone's guess.

As Clay settled back in his seat, he noticed Midoriya's head bobbing slightly from the row ahead, the green-haired student scribbling furiously in his ever-present notebook. The soft mutter of, "Practical, thematic, ties directly to his Quirk… very fitting…" drifted back, just loud enough for Clay to catch.

Bakugo scoffed from the back row, his arms crossed over his chest and his usual scowl firmly in place. "What're you gonna do, open a pest control agency?"

"Not a bad idea…" Clay mused, a smirk on his face. "Could start with you…"

A few students snickered, and Mina outright laughed, earning an even darker scowl from Bakugo.

"Say that again, Rat Boy!" Bakugo growled, tiny pops of energy crackling from his palms.

Clay raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "You want me to? I could write it down if that'd help."

Skipper squeaked sharply, hopping to Clay's shoulder and twitching his tail at Bakugo as if ready to take him on.

The tension broke with Midnight's voice cutting through the room. "Save the explosions for hero work, Bakugo," she said with a teasing lilt, though her sharp gaze carried a clear warning.

Clay tipped an imaginary hat to Midnight, a wry grin on his face. "Appreciate the assist, ma'am."

Eventually, the rest of the stragglers were able to choose their names, and class was finally dismissed. Even though the students were only subjected to two hours of class for the day, it felt longer for Clay.

As the students began filtering out of the classroom, Clay slung his bag over his shoulder and gave Skipper a gentle scratch behind the ears. "C'mon, Skip. Let's see if the cafeteria's got somethin' worth fightin' for today. Bet we could find ya some of that miso soup."

The rat squeaked in agreement, and with a final glance at the emptying room, Clay followed the others into the bustling hallway.