The Marionettist

Class 1-A

Izuku made it to his classroom after wandering the school for a couple of minutes as soon as he got there. He took a deep breath and opened the door to Classroom 1-A.

He was immediately met with a lot of sound. Sighing, he made his way to a vacant seat and sat down, looking around the classroom.

"Get your feet off the desk! It's insulting, you know!" a boy with dark blue hair and glasses was yelling at someone in front of Izuku. He didn't pay much mind to it until the other boy spoke.

"Shut up, four-eyes! I can do whatever I want, I don't need your permission," the boy grumbled, sounding disinterested. Yes, Izuku recognized that voice now. And that blonde hair. It was Katsuki Bakugou, one of the people he swore to get revenge on...

The blue-haired boy looks affronted by this response. "Excuse you, but it is still very rude to have your feet up on the desk! I sit right in front of you, and if I lean back, your feet will be in my hair!" the boys' face is turning red, and Izuku notices. He continues to watch the exchange with an amused expression on his face as the people start to join the classroom.

Bakugou snorts. "If it's that much of a problem, then you have other options," he says casually, crossing his arms. "One, don't lean back, or two, find another seat."

The blue-haired boy just huffs and takes his bag, shuffling away to find a different seat. Bakugou snorts again and takes his feet off the desk. Suddenly, he turns around in his seat and meets Izuku's emerald-green eyes.

Bakugou gasps. "What the hell are you doing here, freak?"

Izuku just looks at him. "What do you think? I'm here to become a hero." 

Bakugou gives a shout of laughter, and before he can respond, a yellow sleeping bag rolls into the classroom, the door closing behind it.

The class quiets and everyone stares at the sleeping bag, amazed.

The sleeping bag sighs and unzips itself. Shota Aizawa crawls out of it and stands up, adjusting his capture scarf and popping a straw into a juice box.

"My name is Shota Aizawa, teacher of Class 1-A, A.K.A you all," he says in a bored voice. The class just stares back at him, taking all of it in.

Aizawa sighs. "You will call me Aizawa-sensei or Mr Aizawa. I expect all of you are here to become heroes, correct?" Some people muster up the courage to nod yes. "Good. Well-- yes?" 

A boy with spiky red hair had raised his hand. He clears his throat before speaking. "Wh-- what about orientation?"

Aizawa narrows his eyes at the boy. "What's your name?"

"Eijirou Kirishima, sir."

"Well, Kirishima," he says annoyedly, sucking on his juice box. "I only have three years to make you all into fully-fledged heroes. That's not nearly enough time, and I'm not going to waste it on stupid things like orientation."

Kirishima looks a bit dumbfounded for a second but then nods. "Yes, sir. Sorry for asking."

Aizawa nods curtly. "Now that we've got that out of the way, head to the gym. Get changed. We will have a little fitness assessment to see how strong you all are."

The class groans and makes their way to the locker rooms. As they're walking, Bakugou catches up to Izuku.

Izuku rolls his eyes. "What now?"

Bakugou looks at him angrily. "Don't get all cocky now that you're in the hero course. I'm still stronger than you." he laughs shortly. "Your little puppets couldn't hold up a golf ball."

Izuku smirks. "You're right. Because they can hold up way more than that."

Once everyone got changed, they went through a course of fitness evaluations. Aizawa tested their speed, adaptability, and teamwork skills.

"Come on now," he said in his boring voice as a small boy with purple balls for hair struggled to lift some weights. "How can you expect yourself to be a hero if you can't even lift twenty-five pounds?" Smirking, he scribbled something on his clipboard that looked suspiciously like a zero.

It was gruelling, but Izuku powered through it with the thought that once it was all over, he could enjoy the looks on everyone's faces as he got revenge on those who had made his life hell.

Eventually, they got to the end of it and the class was exhausted. Aizawa looked around at them all, smirking and writing notes on his clipboard.

"Oh, right!" he said with the air of something just remembering something important. The class looked weary. "Whoever gets last place is expelled. Forgot to mention that at the beginning."

The class looked scandalized. 

"But it's the first day!" the blue-haired boy from earlier said, enraged.

"I don't care," Aizawa says shortly. Now line up. You're gonna throw this ball."

Every person in the class took their turn throwing the ball as far as they could. When it was Bakugou's turn, he showed off by throwing his ball with some fancy explosions. He ended up throwing it 705.2 meters. Confidently, he turns around and smirks at Izuku, as though daring him to throw it farther than he did.

Once it was Izuku's turn, he stepped up to the circle. He took the ball from Aizawa and wound up his arm a couple of times. With a whoosh, he threw the ball without using his quirk. Aizawa showed him his score.

705.3 meters.

The class was in shock. He threw it that far without using his quirk?!

Bakugou was livid. "How did he do better than me?!" he shouted. He turned to Aizawa. "Let me throw again!"

Aizawa just looked at him, annoyed. "No re-throws. Go away." 

Bakugou glared at Izuku angrily.

Izuku smirked at him, a smug expression on his face. As they made their way back to the locker rooms, he couldn't help think: Phase one: complete.