Chapter 10: The Burden of Attention
School was closed the next day. U.A. needed to repair security, and the students needed to repair their nerves.
When classes resumed on Wednesday, the atmosphere had shifted. The walk from the station to U.A. was usually quiet, but today, Aokiji felt eyes on him. Students from other courses—General Studies, Support, Business—whispered as he walked by.
"That's him. The tall one."
"I heard he fought The Nomu."
"I heard he died and came back to life."
"Scary..."
Aokiji pulled his sleeping mask down around his neck and slouched, trying to make himself look smaller. Great. I'm a local cryptid now.
He slid open the door to Class 1-A.
The chatter stopped instantly. Everyone looked at him.
"Morning," Aokiji mumbled, walking to his desk.
"Kuzan!" Kaminari shouted, breaking the tension. He ran over, draping an arm around Aokiji's shoulder (then immediately recoiling because of the cold). "Dude! You're trending on Twitter! 'Ice Boy' is a hashtag!"
"Please don't show me," Aokiji groaned, putting his head on his desk.
"It is quite the sensation," Momo Yaoyorozu said, turning in her seat to face him. She looked relieved to see him. "But I am glad you are resting. The structural integrity of your body... is it stable?"
"I'm solid, Yaoyorozu. Thanks," Aokiji replied into his arms.
The door opened again. The class rushed to their seats.
Aizawa walked in. He was a mummy. Bandages covered his entire face, leaving only one eye visible. Both arms were in slings.
"Sensei!" the class gasped. "You're back already?! You're a mummy!"
"My well-being is irrelevant," Aizawa mumbled through the bandages. "More importantly, the fight isn't over yet."
The class stiffened. More villains?!
" The U.A. Sports Festival is approaching."
The tension snapped.
"That's... totally normal school stuff!" Kirishima yelled.
"Wait," Kaminari raised a hand. "Is that safe? Villains just broke in the other day!"
"Conversely," Aizawa said, his eye twitching. "We must demonstrate that U.A. 's crisis management is solid. Security will be five times higher than usual. This is the greatest opportunity you will have. You cannot cancel it just because of a few villains."
Aokiji raised his hand slowly.
"Yes, Kuzan?"
"Can I sit this one out?" Aokiji asked. "I feel like I hit my quota for action this month."
"No," Aizawa said instantly. "Attendance is mandatory. It is your debut to the pros. If you want a future, you will participate."
Aokiji sighed, sinking lower in his chair. So much for the path of least resistance.
Lunchtime: The Locker Room
Later that day, the boys were changing after a light training session. The locker room smelled of deodorant and teenage sweat.
Aokiji was buttoning his shirt slowly. Across the room, Midoriya was muttering to himself, probably analyzing strategies for the festival.
"Kuzan."
It was Todoroki. He was leaning against a locker, his shirt half-off, revealing the muscular build of someone who had trained since childhood.
"You're not motivated," Todoroki stated flatly.
Aokiji looked at him in the mirror. "Is it that obvious?"
"It is," Todoroki said. "You have a quirk that rivals the pros. You held off a creature that All Might struggled with. Yet, you act like being here is a punishment."
"It's not a punishment," Aokiji corrected, tying his messy tie. "It's a transaction. I do the work, I get the grade, I go home."
"Don't mock us," Todoroki's voice dropped. The air in the locker room grew tense. Midoriya stopped muttering. Iida stopped cleaning his glasses. "There are people here who are desperate to be the best. To surpass... certain people." He touched his left side unconsciously. "If you don't take this seriously, I will crush you."
Aokiji turned around. He leaned back against the lockers, towering over most of the boys.
"Todoroki," Aokiji said, his voice devoid of his usual laziness for a brief second. "You're fighting ghosts. You're fighting your dad, can't even use your fire. You're fighting your past. That's fine. That's your business."
He picked up his bag.
"But be careful. If you focus too much on crushing people..." Aokiji's eyes flashed with a memory of the Nomu. "...you might shatter yourself in the process. Just let me out of this drama.."
He walked toward the exit.
"Wait!"
Bakugo slammed his locker shut. He stepped into Aokiji's path. He was shorter, but his presence was massive.
"Don't think you're safe from me either, Ice Cube," Bakugo growled. "You and Half-and-Half... I'm going to beat both of you. I'm going to make the world forget about the USJ and look only at me. The Sports Festival? That's where I'll kill you."
Aokiji looked down at Bakugo. He saw the fire in his eyes. It was exhausting just looking at it.
"Sure, sure," Aokiji waved his hand, stepping around Bakugo. "Just don't melt the stadium. It's expensive."
He walked out into the hallway, leaving the "Big Three" tension thick in the air.
As he walked down the corridor, he pulled out his phone. A message from his father.
Father:Make a statement at the Festival. The investors are watching.
Aokiji sighed, sliding the phone back into his pocket.
"Investors watching. Rivals wanting to kill me. Teachers who are mummies."
He looked out the window at the blue sky.
"I really should have just learned calculus," he whispered to himself. "It would have been so much quieter."