Chapter 07 ~ Friends...
The news of Po's acceptance into U.A. High School spread through the Ping household faster than the smell of burnt garlic. The moment Po had waddled through the front door and gently placed the holographic projector on the kitchen counter, chaos erupted.
His father had cried tears of joy into a vat of boiling broth, ruining an entire batch of soup, while his mother had simply clapped her perfectly clean hands together with a determined gleam in her eyes.
"A feast!" Mrs. Ping had declared, her voice leaving absolutely no room for argument. "We are hosting a feast! Po, you must invite your entire class. Every single one of them!"
"Mom, there are thirty people in my homeroom," Po had tried to protest, scratching the back of his fuzzy neck. "And they eat a lot."
"Nonsense! The Ping Family Noodle Shop can feed an army!" she proclaimed, already tying her apron. "Go! Tell them to be here by seven!"
And so, at exactly 7:00 PM, the usually cozy noodle shop was completely overrun by a loud, buzzing horde of middle school teenagers. They squeezed into the wooden booths, pulled up extra stools, and chatted excitedly about Po's incredible U.A. results. Takeshi was sitting right next to Po, proudly telling everyone who would listen about how he always knew Po was a secret powerhouse.
"I am just saying, his stomach defies the laws of physics," Takeshi bragged, gesturing wildly.
Just then, the swinging doors to the kitchen burst open. A massive cloud of savory, garlic-scented steam rolled into the dining area.
"Welcome, welcome, honorable classmates of my heroic son!" a booming, joyous voice echoed through the restaurant.
The chatter in the room instantly died down. Thirty pairs of eyes turned toward the kitchen doors.
Stepping out from the steam was Mr. Ping. He was carrying two towering stacks of bamboo steamers, balancing them perfectly on his completely normal, average-sized human arms. He wore standard, dark trousers and a crisp, white chef's apron tied around a very standard, human waist.
But resting squarely on his shoulders was the massive, incredibly fluffy, unmistakable head of a giant panda.
Absolute silence fell over the teenagers. Several jaws literally dropped.
The students looked at Po, who was sitting at the head of the table, a giant, full-bodied bipedal panda. Then they looked at Mrs. Ping, who was walking around pouring tea, a completely normal human woman. Then they looked back at Mr. Ping. A human man with a panda head.
You could practically hear the gears turning in the students' heads as they desperately tried to calculate the Quirk genetics.
"Is... is he wearing a mask?" a boy named Kenta whispered to Takeshi, his eyes wide with utter confusion.
"Nope," Takeshi whispered back, casually sipping his tea. "That is just Mr. Ping."
"But... he has human hands! And a panda face! And Po is a whole panda! How does that even work?!" Kenta hissed, looking like his brain was about to short-circuit.
Completely oblivious to the genetic crisis he was causing, Mr. Ping beamed—or rather, his panda snout wrinkled upward in a massive, toothy smile. He set the bamboo towers down on the main table.
"You all look so skinny! Studying to be heroes must burn away all your meat!" Mr. Ping declared, pointing a very human finger at Kenta. "You! You look like a strong breeze could knock you over! Eat the pork buns! They build character and heavy bones!"
Mrs. Ping chuckled, seamlessly navigating the stunned crowd to place bowls of noodles in front of them. "Don't mind him, kids. He just shows his love through carbohydrates. Please, eat as much as you like."
"Thank you for having us, Mr. and Mrs. Ping!" the class president finally managed to say, bowing politely, though her eyes kept darting nervously to Mr. Ping's furry ears.
"It is our absolute honor!" Mr. Ping laughed, wiping a tear from his dark, panda eye with a normal human thumb. "My son is going to U.A.! The greatest hero school in the world! I always knew his destiny was great. But tonight, your destiny is my special spicy garlic noodles!"
The sheer, overwhelming enthusiasm of Po's parents finally broke the awkward tension. The delicious smell of the food was too much for the teenagers to resist. Chopsticks were raised, and within minutes, the restaurant was filled with the happy sounds of slurping, chewing, and laughter.
"Wow, this is amazing!" a girl gasped, her eyes tearing up slightly from the spice.
"Right?" Po mumbled happily, his cheeks completely stuffed with four dumplings at once. He swallowed them down with a loud gulp. "My dad is the best chef in the city."
"Po," Kenta leaned over the table, still looking at Mr. Ping, who was currently tossing noodles into the air in the kitchen window. "I mean this with total respect... but your family is wonderfully weird."
Po let out a deep, rumbling laugh, patting his large stomach. "Hmm, I see no weird things here, hey, you are distracting me from the shrimp rolls..."
Kenta's brows furrowed slightly.
"Ah… of course," he muttered. "This wouldn't seem strange to you. I forgot—you're friends with a panda, after all…"
As the evening wore on, the classmates completely forgot about the strange Quirk genetics. They ate until they couldn't move, listening to Mr. Ping tell embarrassing childhood stories about Po accidentally eating the restaurant's furniture when his adult teeth were coming in. It was a loud, chaotic, and incredibly warm celebration. Po looked around the crowded room, his heart as full as his stomach. The intense, competitive world of U.A. High School was waiting for him next week, but for tonight, he was just a kid sharing a meal with his friends.
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