Hey people- class letter just came in. I'm in 1-A, rooming with Mineta. We start moving in next week.

Lizard, 2:42 PM

Oh shit! Everyone check your mail!

Pinky, 2:42 PM

Thanks for the heads up! I'll go and check now!

Cheeks, 2:43 PM

1-A. I'm with Jiro.

Batgirl, 2:44 PM

Really? Cool! See you then.

Jiro, 2:44 PM

Katsuki rose from the couch and marched outside, his pace deliberate and swift. He kept his eyes on his phone as more and more people chimed in, each calling out their class and roommate assignments.

I'm in Class 1-B. Toga, we're roommates!

Cheeks, 2:45 PM

Oh, this should be fun…

Creepy, 2:45 PM

1-B. Says I'm with Yaoyorozu... that's gonna be awkward. Class leader? And isn't she super reserved and shit? Aw, man…

Pinky, 2:46 PM

Katsuki stopped just before the mailbox as the only message he particularly cared about finally appeared upon his screen. His grin widened as he read, and for the first time since his visit to U.A., the tension in his neck eased.

I'm in 1-B with Todoroki. That should be interesting!

Deku, 2:46 PM

"1-B, huh? And not rooming with me," Katsuki mused aloud. "Come on, at least give me this…"

As he reached for the mailbox, Katsuki found that he actually felt nervous. He lowered the tiny door on the box and reached inside, his fingers trembling. Whether the minor shake was due to excitement or trepidation, Katsuki wasn't entirely sure. A stack of letters awaited him, and he pulled the collection out with his free hand. Looking back and forth between his phone and the envelopes, Katsuki began to flick through them. Three letters deep, he found what he was looking for- a small envelope addressed to Mr. Katsuki Bakugo, sent by one Shota Aizawa.

"Aizawa… that's the 1-A homeroom professor…" Katsuki mumbled to himself with a smirk. "Holy shit, we're finally separated…"

Katsuki's phone began to vibrate with an incoming call as he tore the envelope, and he had to set the rest of the letters atop the mailbox as he fumbled with the device to answer. He wasn't particularly surprised by the voice that came over the line, but he was annoyed by it.

"Hey!" Izuku said enthusiastically. "Get your letter yet?"

"I'm looking at it right now," Katsuki replied with a roll of his eyes as he straightened out the paper and began to read. "You couldn't wait for me to put it in the text chain?"

"You never use the group text, so I figured you had the conversation blocked. I wasn't expecting you to actually tell us…"

Katsuki let out a grunt of annoyance at the accusation. Truth be told, he wasn't sure if he would have told the others if Izuku hadn't prompted him. As he read his placement and roommate, he found that his initial feeling of excitement had twisted into one of nervousness.

"…found it. I'm in 1-A with Kirishima."

The awkward pause over the line only made Katsuki's feelings intensify. As the seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, hours, or days, he couldn't bring himself to move or look away from the letter. All he could do was wait, wondering why he had been hit with a wave of guilt so suddenly.

"…oh."

"Well, I mean, the two classes will be together for some courses, and we'll only be one floor apart," Katsuki said before he had any idea of what was coming out of his mouth. "So it's not like we'll be completely isolated from each other."

"Yeah, that's true," Izuku agreed. "I was just kinda hoping against hope that we would end up together. You've done a lot for me, Kacchan, and you're the only one in our classes allowed to know about One for All. Not only that, but rooming with Kirishima? That means he and Ashido are on separate teams…"

"…oh. Yeah, I guess that's true…" Katsuki realized as his stomach dropped. "Maybe that's a good thing. They'll finally be able to keep their damned hands off each other."

Izuku laughed lightly, though the sound came out a bit forced.

"Yeah… are they really that bad?"

"We… hung out the other night," Katsuki explained as he slowly began to walk back toward his house. "Jiro came, too."

"Really? That's awesome! See, it's not so bad making friends. These are good people, Kacchan. I don't think anyone in 1-A or 1-B would mind you getting a little closer to them. We're all in this together, and we're all heroes. Why would any of us want any of the others to do anything but succeed?"

Katsuki stopped walking for a moment and furrowed his brows as he let the words sink in.

"…yeah… I don't know, Deku. I don't know…"

Tamaki pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he leaned his head forward. After what felt like a full hour of listening to Mirio recount his latest exploits with the Yakuza, he finally felt the need to say something.

"…Togata… you need rest."

"He's right," Nejire insisted as she leaned over the back of the couch, her hands gently kneading at Mirio's shoulders.

"Guys, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine!" Mirio insisted as he tilted his head back and looked up at Nejire upside-down. He forced a tired smile, the corners of his mouth feeling unusually heavy with the effort. "Besides, I've barely even done anything yet- I'm just getting to know people in the underground…"

"And yet, it's taking a toll on you," Tamaki insisted as he looked up at his friend. "It's been barely two weeks, you've made only a few visits to their stronghold, and you seem exhausted. Hado and I had a long talk about this."

Mirio leaned forward, meeting Tamaki's eyes. The sight of his friend's expression took him aback and made him feel uneasy. Something about his friend's almost annoyed-looking glare threw him off, and he was momentarily left without words.

"I…" Mirio sputtered before heaving a sigh. "…I can't just walk away."

"We're not asking you to," Tamaki clarified. "But we're also not going to let this continue as it has been. You've told us that you've already made mistakes, and it's wearing on you."

"I just… need to get better at being a villain," Mirio muttered. "Pretending to be one, I mean."

"I don't think it's that," Nejire denied. "You need to lean on us more. We've both leaned on you a lot, Mirio. Let us return the favor."

"Of course, but… how?" Mirio asked. "It's not like I can bring you with me."

Mirio's statement was met with silence as Nejire stopped rubbing his shoulders. Tamaki rubbed at his chin awkwardly as Mirio tensed up. It took only a few seconds for the dark-haired boy to break eye contact entirely and stare at the ground as he pulled his hood up.

"…Tamaki… what did you do?"

"…what any good friend would do," Nejire began.

"I… told Mr. Toyomitsu… and he spoke to Mirko and Hawks. I don't know in what capacity just yet, but I'll be on the case as well."

Mirio swallowed hard as he tried to figure out exactly how he felt. No answer came as Tamaki and Nejire waited patiently. Mirio settled on taking a deep breath as he leaned his head back into the cushion and closed his eyes.

"…okay. Just… promise me you'll let me take the lead, and not do anything too rash without discussing it first."

"That second part is actually what I was going to ask of you," Tamaki answered.

Amaya slowly dragged a tiny brush contained within a black cap along the surface of her nail, applying a second coat of blood red to the polished surface. As she finished perfectly covering the area with pigment, she folded her fingers inward and brought her hand up to her mouth to gently blow upon the polish. The bat-winged teen rotated slowly back and forth in her computer chair, staring out at the various metal band posters within her bedroom. She wore nothing but a lacy black bra and panties as she sat in silence- a rare occasion.

While music would usually be blaring, or at least softly thrumming in the background as Amaya did homework or scrolled through the internet, she found that she just wasn't in the mood. Ever since the meeting at U.A. that had decided her future, things had been tense at home. Amaya and her father had actively avoided speaking for days, barely murmuring greetings on the occasion that they ran into each other. She had spent more time in the group chat with her new friends than with her family, and that suited her just fine.

The brief knock on her bedroom didn't really surprise her.

She had been preparing for the possibility for days.

"Amaya, we need to ta-" Sekijiro began as he poked his head through the door, only to immediately turn away and stand on the other side of the door, speaking through the crack. "Put some clothes on!"

"Don't just knock once and enter," Amaya spat with a shrug as she stretched out her wings. "What do you want?"

Sekijiro let out a weary sigh. Though his expression was hidden behind the door, Amaya knew exactly the sort of glower he was wearing.

"…does it always have to be like this between us?"

"You tell me," Amaya answered as she turned her chair away from the door and looked at her computer monitor. She idly played with the bottle of nail polish in one hand while placing the other upon her mouse, beginning to scroll through a webpage to distract herself. "You're the one that got aggressive at our meeting."

"Because you…" Sekijiro began, only to stop himself with a low growl. "…Amaya. You are my daughter. As much as you want to hate me, and I will admit, I haven't always been the best parent, that isn't going to change the fact that I love you."

Amaya simply rolled her eyes in response, the gesture entirely unseen.

"…is there a point to this, or is this just the usual couple-of-days make up session that'll fall apart again the next time we fight?"

"I'm proud of you, Amaya."

Amaya finally slipped the cap back onto her bottle of nail polish with a satisfying click. She fought against the urge to turn her chair around, instead opting to crack her neck.

"…the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Sekijiro said exasperatedly. "You made it into U.A. University. That's something you should be proud of."

"Yeah, after you fought me every step of the way," Amaya mumbled.

"Is that really what you think?"

"What the hell else would I think?" Amaya asked, raising her voice. "That's how it's felt for years, now. Like you were actively trying to keep me out, probably so I wouldn't embarrass you. I earned this, and no one's going to stop me."

"No. No one will," Sekijiro agreed. "I doubt anyone could. All I've tried to do is push you harder, make you think, and feel that you earn your victories instead of being handed them by virtue of being my daughter. If it has ever felt otherwise… then I'm sorry."

"It has. A lot," Amaya replied. "Just… be less of a raging dick at U.A., alright? I'm not even in your class. You won't be seeing me that often."

"If you'll agree to be less of a moody bitch," Sekijiro joked.

Amaya rolled her eyes and couldn't quite fight back her smirk at the comment.

"…no promises. After all… I have to establish dominance in my class. Throw my weight around a bit, let 'em know who's boss."

"Amaya…"

"Kidding. Mostly," Amaya reassured as she set down her bottle of polish atop the desk and finally turned. "But… I'll try to… let them in, I guess. I've been trying."

"I know," Sekijiro acknowledged. "I've noticed that you're reaching out more. Being friendly with the others, beyond simple pleasantries. I know it isn't easy for you…"

"And whose fault is that?" Amaya asked, her voice gaining a bit of an edge.

"…what?"

"…nothing," Amaya replied with a wave of her hand as she turned back around. "Forget it. I'd rather keep the peace, for now."

"As would I," Sekijiro agreed. "Your mother w-"

"Don't," Amaya threatened immediately. She turned to glare at the door as she narrowed her scarlet eyes. "Don't go there."

"…right. Get some sleep, at some point?"

"Yeah. I will," Amaya grumbled as she heard the door close behind herself.

Amaya waited a few moments before resting her elbows upon her desk and taking her head in her hands. She dug her nails into her scalp, pressing hard enough to feel a burning sensation as she closed her eyes.

"Fuck…"

Author's Note:

Something's building up to happen just before U.A. finally begins. The question is what.

-RD