"𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐮?"
The voice crawled across my scalp like centipedes, coiling around my spine like a snake. "Akiharu... Hey... Could it be, that kid... with the Adamus?"Standing atop the fountain, watching me intently, was a villain covered in hands...
The green stripes are back y'all. They're a pain in my ass to draw, but I love them so dearly. You can thank Lady Nagant's design for convincing me rip 🥲
𓆱❀𓆱
Class 1-A of U.A. was alive with chatter as the final students trickled into their seats. "Hey, didja see the news last night? Everyone was on screen for a second, but I didn't stand out all all!" complained Hagakure.
Ojiro looked her way. "It'd be pretty hard to stand out when you look like that."
A row back from them, Kaminari was leaning back in his chair, looking to his friends over his shoulder. "All of the news channels were making such a big deal about it!"
"I was surprised!"
"Can you blame them?" Jiro sighed. "The hero course that keeps on pumping out high-ranking pros was attacked."
"Who knows what would've happened if the teachers hadn't shown up..."
"Stop that, Sero! Just thinking about it is gonna make me wet myself," whined Mineta.
Bakugo wheeled around in his chair. "Shut up, fucking scumbag!"
"Everyone!" Iida threw open the door, dashing over to the lectern. "Morning homeroom is about to start! Stop talking and take your seats!"
"We're already in them, though," Sero grinned. "Actually, you're the only one who's not."
"Shoot!"
"Don't mind, Iida!"
"Morning..." The classroom door slid open. In hobbled a man, wrapped head-to-toe in bandages beneath his dumpy black clothes and hair. Both of his arms were in slings, and he moved stiffly – every jerk of his arms sent pain shooting through him.
"Mr Aizawa!" his students exclaimed.
"You're back too soon!"
"You're too much of a pro!"
"My well-being doesn't matter. More importantly...."
"Wait, Mr. Aizawa..." Ashido raised a tentative hand. Her voice was uncharacteristically sullen. "Akiharu's not here yet..."
The class turned their gaze to the only empty desk in the room.
Aizawa shook his head. "There's no point in waiting," he said. "Now, as I was saying..."
Ashido rested her chin on her folded arms, lower lip jutting out with a pout. She glanced back in the direction of the empty desk. "Where are you..." she mumbled.
The classroom door was flung open. Standing in the doorway, dishevelled like she'd just run a marathon, was Akiharu. Her face was smeared with dirt here and there, her blazer was wrinkled, and her tie was even more crooked than usual.
"S– Sorry I'm late," she panted, closing the door behind her.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
