The Class 1-A classroom didn't look like an elite higher education institution that morning. It looked like a stock market in the middle of a crash, but with more hormones and superpowers.
Minoru Mineta stood on his desk, veins on his forehead throbbing as he held a crumpled sketch in the air.
"It's basic physics!" he screamed, pointing at a questionable diagram of a heroine costume. "If we reduce the fabric in the thigh area, aerodynamic friction decreases significantly! I'm thinking about efficiency, Yaoyorozu! About speed!"
Momo Yaoyorozu, sitting two rows back, didn't even look up from her 'Advanced Organic Chemistry' textbook.
"Mineta-san," she said with an icy tone. "Your design suggests removing fabric in areas where arteries are located. A wound there would be lethal. Your 'efficiency' is a death sentence."
"But they'd die looking cool!"
"Shut up, scum!"
The explosion came from the front row. Bakugo turned around, smoke rising from his palms.
"Stop screeching about thighs, you rotten grape! I'm trying to meditate on how to better murder my enemies!"
Kirishima leaned back in his chair, balancing dangerously.
"That's not meditation, man, that's planning a crime," the redhead commented. "Shouldn't you be thinking about English? Present Mic is going to kill us with irregular verbs today."
"English is for the weak who need to negotiate!" roared Bakugo. "I don't negotiate! I explode!"
Kaminari gave two thumbs up, trying to imitate the foreign accent.
"Good morning, class! I am... hungry."
"Pathetic," spat Bakugo.
At the teacher's desk, Izuku was organizing a stack of authorization forms. He sighed, checking the time on his watch.
"Hey," Izuku called out, his voice barely audible over the noise. "Sit down. Aizawa is about to arrive and if he sees you like this..."
The classroom door opened slowly. The noise ceased instantly, as if someone had cut the audio cable.
A yellow object, resembling a giant caterpillar, crawled along the floor, crossed the threshold, and rolled until it stopped behind the podium. A hand emerged from the sleeping bag's zipper, pulled out a pouch of fruit puree, and disappeared back inside.
A loud slurp was heard.
"You have ten seconds to be in absolute silence," muttered Aizawa's voice from the floor. "Nine... eight..."
Everyone scrambled to their seats. The sound of dragging chairs was frantic. By the fifth second, the class was motionless.
Aizawa stood up, letting the sleeping bag fall like dead skin. He looked terrible, as always. Dry eyes, messy hair, and a general vibe of wanting to be anywhere else.
"Right," said Aizawa. "Today we have a special activity. Something crucial for your future as heroes."
The class tensed up. Combat? Rescue? Another expulsion test?
"You are going to choose the Class Representative."
"IT'S A NORMAL ACTIVITY!" everyone shouted in unison, the tension breaking into a wave of relief.
"ME!" Kirishima raised his hand so hard his shoulder cracked. "I want to be the one! It'll be a super manly tenure! Rule number one: meat for lunch every day!"
Mina jumped out of her seat, dancing between the desks.
"No, me! We'll have dance parties on Fridays! And custom uniforms with sequins!"
Tenya Iida jumped to his feet.
"Quiet! This is a position of utmost responsibility! It is not for organizing parties! It requires diligence! Administrative discipline! Conflict management!"
He adjusted his glasses, which flashed with a blinding white light.
"The representative must be the pillar of order! Someone who can guide others toward academic and moral excellence!"
Bakugo crossed his legs on his desk.
"Nobody is going to vote for you, Four Eyes. You're a boring robot. Vote for me and I'll teach you how to crush the weak under your boots! That's the only direction that matters!"
Tsuyu placed a finger on her chin.
"That's not a very democratic political platform, Bakugo-chan. Sounds more like a dictatorship, kero."
"It's a violent meritocracy!" corrected Bakugo.
Chaos erupted again. Everyone was shouting their proposals. Aoyama promised mirrors on every desk. Kaminari promised charging stations for cell phones.
Aizawa rubbed his temples and looked at Izuku.
"Midoriya," he grunted. "Handle it. I'm going to sleep. Wake me up if there's blood or fire. Preferably fire, blood is hard to clean."
The teacher dropped back into his sack. Izuku nodded and walked to the whiteboard, picking up a black marker. He tapped the white surface twice with the back of the pen.
The sharp sound echoed.
"Alright," said Izuku, projecting his voice. "Mr. Aizawa is right. This isn't a popularity contest. The Representative is the liaison with the faculty and responsible for safety in emergencies."
He looked at the class.
"We need serious proposals. Who nominates who?"
"I nominate myself," said Iida immediately, raising his hand so high it trembled. "I promise to reduce travel time between classes through a single-flow hallway system!"
"Boring," coughed Sero.
Jiro twirled one of her ear jacks.
"I nominate Momo. She's the smartest. And she knows how to organize things. Literally."
Momo blushed slightly.
"I appreciate the trust, Jiro-san. Certainly, I have some ideas regarding resource optimization..."
"I vote for Midoriya!" shouted Uraraka suddenly.
Izuku froze, the marker halfway through writing 'Yaoyorozu'.
"Me?" Izuku turned around, eyes wide. "Ochako, I'm staff. I'm the assistant. I can't be Representative. It would be a conflict of interest."
Uraraka scratched her head, embarrassed.
"Ah, right. I forgot. It's just... you seem like the boss anyway."
"She's right," said Kirishima. "Midoriya orders us around during training. But if he can't..."
The classroom fell into a thoughtful silence. The shouting had died down as they considered their real options. Then, Ochako spoke again. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the silence with clarity.
"I think we should consider who acted with the most leadership when it really mattered."
Everyone looked at her. Ochako turned in her seat and pointed to the back.
"In the battle trial," she continued. "When the Zero Pointer appeared... a lot of people ran. I got stuck. But Melissa Shield didn't run. She took command. She organized the rescue. She broke her arm."
All eyes turned to Melissa Shield. The blonde was sitting at her desk, nervously playing with a pen, taking it apart and putting it back together over and over. Feeling the weight of the stares, she turned red as a tomato.
"Ah, I... I just did what anyone would have..." she started to stammer.
"Not just anyone," Kirishima interrupted her, his tone turning serious. "Uraraka is right. That's leadership. That's manly."
"She has my vote," Jiro nodded.
Sato raised a massive hand.
"And mine. She helped us with math notes yesterday too."
Momo lowered her head gracefully.
"It is a logical choice. Her capacity for analysis under pressure is superior to mine. She reacts, I plan. In an emergency, we need reaction."
"Tsk," Bakugo clicked his tongue and looked out the window. "The American nerd... at least she has guts. Better than Four Eyes."
Iida lowered his hand slowly. He looked devastated, but then nodded stiffly.
"It is... a valid argument. Shield's judgment in crisis is exemplary."
Izuku smiled, writing the name on the board.
"And the vice presidency?" asked Kaminari. "We need someone to balance things out. Someone calm."
Tsuyu put a finger on her cheek.
"Shiozaki. She's a little scary with all that 'divine judgment' and prayer stuff, but she kept her cool the whole time in training yesterday, kero. She's solid."
Ibara, sitting with her hands clasped on her desk, bowed her head humbly. Her vines formed a subtle halo.
"If it is the will of the collective," said Ibara, her voice soft but resonant. "I shall serve to guide this flock down the path of righteousness and discipline."
Sero leaned toward Kaminari.
"Flock? Dude, she's seriously scary. I feel like she's going to make me confess my sins."
"Better behave yourself," whispered Kaminari.
"Okay, let's vote," said Izuku.
The voting was quick. Folded papers, counting on the board. There were no surprises. Uraraka's argument had struck deep. Izuku wrote the final results in large letters and underlined them.
PRESIDENT: MELISSA SHIELDVICE PRESIDENT: IBARA SHIOZAKI
Aizawa moved in his sack.
"Done. Good. Shield, Shiozaki, come to the front. Say something quick. I want to go back to sleep."
Melissa stood up. Her legs were trembling a little. She walked to the front, standing next to Izuku. He gave her a small smile of encouragement.
You can do it, his eyes said.
Melissa took a deep breath. She looked at her classmates. She saw Bakugo looking at her with challenge, Iida with respect, Uraraka with a bright smile.
"Thank you, everyone," said Melissa, her voice gaining strength with every word. "I know I'm... new to this field hero stuff. My life has been in a lab. But I promise I will work harder than anyone. I promise that..."
WUUUUUUUUUUU-WUUUUUUUUUUU
A shrill, mechanical, violent siren cut off her speech and made the window panes vibrate.
A robotic voice filled the school.
"SECURITY ALERT LEVEL 3. ALL STUDENTS EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."
Iida jumped up.
"Level 3? What does that mean?"
Jiro covered her ears.
"It means someone has breached the campus!"
The classroom exploded into motion. Aizawa was out of his sack in a blink, already at the door.
"Stay together!" ordered the teacher, his voice cutting through the panic. "Don't get separated! Follow protocols!"
Aizawa ran out into the hallway, disappearing.
"Let's go!" shouted Kirishima.
They stepped out into the hallway. It was a mistake.
The place was a war zone. Hundreds of students from general studies, support, and management were running toward the exits. Shoving, screaming, elbows flying. It was a human tide of blind fear.
"Get back! Push!"
Izuku felt an elbow in his ribs and was dragged by the current.
"Melissa!" he shouted, trying to grab her hand, but the crowd separated them.
"Izuku!"
Melissa, Iida, and Uraraka were pushed against the opposite wall, near the large windows of the main hallway. The pressure was suffocating. Smaller students were being crushed against the lockers.
"What is happening?!" screamed Uraraka, shielding her head with her arms. "Nobody knows anything!"
A third-year student with a terrified face passed by them.
"They say it's villains! They say they broke the barrier!"
The panic intensified. The word "villains" acted like gasoline. People started using their Quirks to push. Someone activated a force barrier, crushing others.
Izuku was pressed against the window glass. His face was stuck to the pane.
He looked outside. His eyes scanned the main entrance of U.A. He expected to see fire. He expected to see monsters.
He saw microphones. He saw cameras.
He saw a woman in a gray business suit yelling at a security guard while her cameraman tried to jump the broken gate.
"It's the press!" shouted Izuku, turning around. "It's not villains! It's just the press!"
No one heard him. The noise of the screams and the siren was deafening.
"Let me out!" cried a boy next to him, sobbing. "I don't want to die!"
Izuku searched for Melissa in the crowd. He saw her about five meters away, struggling to keep her balance while Iida tried to create a safe space around her with his elbows.
Their gazes met.
Izuku pointed at the window. Then he pointed at his mouth. Press.
Melissa frowned, confused. She looked out the window and saw the reporters. Then she looked at the crowd. She saw a support girl on the floor, about to be trampled by three upperclassmen.
Anger flashed in Melissa's blue eyes.
She looked at Izuku again. He nodded with a sharp, firm movement.
Do it.
Melissa didn't hesitate. She closed her eyes for a millisecond. She felt the ember of One For All inside her.
"Full Cowl: 1%!" she whispered.
Very faint green lightning trailed over her body beneath her uniform.
She crouched and jumped.
She propelled herself off the shoulders of a giant student, using him as a springboard, and launched herself into the air. She spun with feline agility and grabbed onto the upper frame of the emergency exit door, hanging upside down, high above everyone's heads.
She inhaled deeply. She filled her lungs until they hurt.
"LISTEEEEEN!"
The effect was immediate. Surprise froze the crowd. Hundreds of heads turned upward, searching for the source of the sound. They saw a blonde girl, hanging from the ceiling, with green lightning flickering around her legs and an expression of absolute authority.
"Everything is okay!" shouted Melissa, her voice firm. She released one hand from the frame and pointed aggressively at the window. "Look outside! Look out the windows!"
Some looked. The rumor started to spread.
"It's not villains!" continued Melissa, making sure even the last student at the back of the hallway heard her. "It's just the press! It's sensationalist reporters who broke the barrier! There is no real danger!"
The tension in the hallway broke like a popped balloon. The fear evaporated, replaced by confusion and then, quickly, by shame.
Melissa didn't stop there.
"We are U.A. students!" she reprimanded them. "We behave with dignity! Stop pushing! Third years, pick up those who fell! First years, stay calm! Exit in an orderly fashion!"
There was a moment of silence. Then, Iida moved. He helped pick up the support girl who was on the floor.
"You heard the President!" shouted Iida, waving his arms. "Single file! Move calmly! Diligence!"
The flow of students organized itself. The stampede turned into an evacuation. People started apologizing. "Sorry," "excuse me," "are you okay?"
Izuku, still pressed against the wall, looked up. Melissa dropped from the door frame, landing gracefully on her feet. The green glow faded and she let out a shaky sigh, her knees giving way a little now that the adrenaline was fading.
"That was amazing," said Kirishima, grinning with all his sharp teeth. "Super manly, President."
Momo approached, adjusting her uniform.
"Impeccable situation assessment and perfect vocal execution."
Ibara clasped her hands.
"A voice in the wilderness. You have calmed the beasts."
Izuku pushed through the people and reached her. Melissa looked at him, seeking approval.
"Did I do okay?" she asked quietly.
Izuku smiled, a smile of genuine pride.
"A leader is born," he told her. "You did perfect."
Far away, dust from the U.A. security barrier still floated in the air. The press was gone, dispersed by the arrival of the police.
But someone had stayed.
A thin figure, dressed in black, sloppy clothes, watched the school from a distance, hidden in the shadow of an alley. He scratched his neck with a compulsive, dry, irritating movement.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Shigaraki Tomura narrowed his red eyes under his messy bangs.
"Wow..." he whispered. "I expected a quick Game Over with the barrier... I thought the NPCs would panic and trample each other."
He stopped scratching. A twisted smile appeared under the dismembered hand covering his face.
"Doesn't matter," he said, shrugging. "This was just the tutorial. In the next level... I'll bring the final boss."
His smile widened, cruel and excited.
"Let's see how they play when the game is rigged for them to die. Let's go, Kurogiri. I have to prepare my gear."
**
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