𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐒: bnha x atla

⌞#𝟎𝟏𝟗⌝

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 of 1-A was abuzz with the usual morning chatter, the air tinged with the scent of freshly sharpened pencils and the barely contained energy of young heroes in training.

When the door slid open with a serenity that belied the presence about to enter. All eyes turned to the figure framed by the doorway, their collective breaths seemingly caught by an invisible winter's chill. Iluliaq, walked in with an air of untouched nobility—a stark contrast to his peers, who were often more boisterous in their youthful exuberance.

However, this morning, Iluliaq seemed different. His waist length hair, the color of the purest snowfall from his northern homeland, usually hung loose and free like the unchecked winds of the tundra. Today, it was artfully arranged in a cascade of waterfall braids that seemed to tell a tale of meticulous care and patience. His usual stoic expression had morphed, his sculpted features now contorted with what could only be described as annoyance.

The class watched in silent awe as Iluliaq sighed audibly, his breath hanging in the air as if to emphasize his displeasure. With an almost regal pivot, he addressed the room.

"...Good... morning." He uttered, the words tasting like a forced courtesy on his tongue. His voice, cold and uncaring, now carried an unfamiliar tone of civility that left his classmates in disbelief. After all his interactions with others were typically limited to stoic silence or thinly veiled threats.

Bakugo snorted from his desk. "Hah, the Ice Prince greets us. What's the occasion, huh? You finally decide to join the world of the living?"

Iluliaq's gaze flickered towards Bakugo, his expression unchanging. "I'd prefer the company of the dead. They're less irritating."

To the side Kaminari leaned over to whisper to Kirishima, "Is that actually a 'good morning' or is it a threat wrapped in a greeting?"

Before Kirishima could even chuckle at the comment, their teacher, Aizawa, known for his dry wit and unflappable demeanor, seized the opportunity to poke fun at the prince's unexpected courtesy.

"Kiyotsuki." He began, using Iluliaq's surname with a hint of irony. "Greeting us peasants for once?"

Iluliaq's head snapped toward the voice, his eyes narrowing. The air around him felt like it dropped a few degrees.

"I swear I will gut you like a fish so silence yourself, you decrepit relic." He retorted, the threat hanging between them like a guillotine's blade, albeit one delivered with an undertone of grudging respect.

Aizawa chuckled, unfazed by the icy veneer. "You are such a charmer, aren't you? A real heartthrob."

Iluliaq's face remained impassive, though a flicker of annoyance betrayed him. He remembered, with some disdain, that he was supposed to be charming, not his usual detached and abrasive self. But the very notion seemed to bore him further.

"I hope the next time you get coffee, the barista gives you decaf." He wished upon Aizawa with a deadpan expression, as if cursing him with the most vile of fates.

"Decaf? That is cruel even for you." Aizawa replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Maybe, but only a fraction as cruel as having to endure another one of your motivational speeches." Iluliaq scoffed.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, accepting the challenge. "Here I thought my words were the highlight of your day. After all, you seem to hang onto them with such... fervor."

As the pair got on each other's nerves, Midoriya, leaned over to, Uraraka. "Do you think they actually enjoy these exchanges?"

Uraraka shrugged, her eyes still on Iluliaq. "Hard to tell with them. It's like watching a really tense tennis match."