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༉˚*ೃ ᵒ⁴. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄!
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 of girls—it should have been a crime, that there were only seven of them versus the thirteen boys—joined the other statistic of their class as they walked through the gymnasium hall, heading out towards the large U.A. field, sports uniforms on. Tsubame much preferred these, with the soft, sweat-absorbent blue fabric, short sleeves, and pants. Much less stuffy than the usual U.A. uniform, and with no irritating collar.
"I wonder what's going to happen," said Yaoyorozu with a hint of nerves, slim hand curled and clutched vulnerably towards her chest, eyes unsure.
Bakugou had taken the lead by a fair amount, clearly not wanting to walk with the rest of his classmates, and offered the mean scoff of, "Fucking extras." The group of twenty pooled out of one of U.A. gym's many exits, towards the sport field. The ground here was packed tight, fit for athletics of all kind. Tsubame joyed in the feeling of her running sneakers pressing against the earth. Their teacher—Aizawa—was waiting for them with that same, disinterested, tired expression, bags beneath his eyes shadowed in the bright morning sun and chin tucked into that strange scarf-like object slung around his neck. The murmuring of classmates still getting to know each other under such odd circumstances came to a silence as their feet stopped in front of their teacher, awaiting direction.
"You should get here faster," were Aizawa-sensei's first words, not entirely encouraging. We were lost... Tsubame thought, but didn't dare say anything aloud. The teacher sighed again. His black eyes scanned over his students, who probably looked like a sorry mess in comparison to the heroes he'd trained over the years—had he trained heroes? It was expected of staff at U.A., but this man looked like he could barely keep awake in front of a group of twenty fifteen-to-sixteen-year-olds. "Punctuality is crucial for heroes. That is why this morning you'll be undertaking an evaluation specific to the Hero Course." His voice paused momentarily, perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps because he just couldn't bring himself to care. Tsubame wasn't the best at deciphering tones already, and his monotonous drawl made it even more difficult. "A Quick assessment test."
What? Assessment already?
"A Quirk assessment test?!" Tsubame's voice rung out, surprised and indignant, along with the echo of her other nineteen classmates. It was a united cry that was somewhere between a groan and a shout. This was bad. Tsubame was bad at tests. She needed to study a lot to get anything through her head, and the way their teacher was eyeing them in an unimpressed manner told her all she needed to know about the prospect of having time to study. By the distressed look on several of her other classmates' faces—Kaminari, Ashido, and Uraraka stuck out the most—, they were experiencing the exact same line of thinking.
