Teachers pet (COMPLETE)

Chapter 9: Sports Festival part 1

After classes end at 3:20 p.m., something unexpected happens.

As Bakugou swings open the door, we’re greeted by a crowd of students gathered in the hallway, directly in front of our classroom. The sheer number of them is unsettling, their eyes locked on us, studying us like we’re some kind of spectacle. My chest tightens with unease, and I have to fight the urge to step back.

"U-Um, why the heck are you all here?" Ochako asks, her voice tinged with shock.

"Do you students have some sort of business with our class?" Iida steps forward, his usual formality coming across more stiff than ever.

I frown, a wave of defensiveness rising inside me. "Why are you blocking our doorway?" My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but the sight of all these strangers sizing us up makes my skin crawl.

“They’re scouting out the competition, idiots,” Bakugou scoffs as he stomps toward the front of the group, his confidence radiating off him in waves. "We're the class that survived a real villain attack. They wanna see us with their own eyes. At least now you know what a future pro looks like. Now move it, extras."

"You can't walk around calling people extras just because you don't know who they are!" Iida scolds, chopping the air with his hands in that dramatic way of his.

"So this is Class 1-A," a new voice cuts through the murmurs. A boy with purple hair and tired eyes pushes his way to the front, his expression as bored as it is calculating. He fixes his gaze on Bakugou with barely disguised disdain. "I heard you guys were impressive, but you just sound like an ass."

Bakugou growls, fists clenching, but the boy keeps talking, undeterred.

"Is everyone in the hero course delusional, or just you?" The purple-haired boy crosses his arms and glances around at all of us. His eyes sweep over me briefly before focusing back on Bakugou. “How sad to come here and find a bunch of egomaniacs. I wanted to be in the hero course, but like many others here, I was forced to choose a different track. Such is life. I didn’t cut it the first time around, but I have another chance. If any of us do well in the Sports Festival, the teachers can decide to transfer us to the Hero course. And they'll have to transfer people out to make room."

His words hang in the air like a storm cloud. I hear the sharp intake of breath from my classmates, and I feel a wave of unease wash over me. Transfer us out? The thought claws at my insides, cold dread creeping up my spine.

The purple-haired boy steps closer, his gaze never leaving Bakugou. "Scouting the competition? Maybe some of my peers are, but I’m here to let you know that if you don’t bring your very best, I’ll steal your spot right from under you."

The tension in the hallway becomes suffocating, his words echoing in my mind—steal your spot right from under you. Something snaps inside me. He’s making it sound so easy, like our struggles mean nothing. Like the USJ incident, like everything we fought for, is just a stepping stone for him to waltz in and take what’s ours.

Before I can stop myself, my quirk activates. Shinsou is yanked forward, his body pulled toward me as if hooked on an invisible string. His eyes widen in surprise as he’s jerked closer, his feet stumbling beneath him.

“Listen here, you Aizawa-Sensei look-alike,” I snap, my voice sharp with barely restrained fury. My heart is pounding, not from fear, but from the raw, burning anger bubbling up inside me. “You don’t know anything about us. You weren’t at USJ. You didn’t watch your teacher get beaten bloody. You didn’t fight for your life against monsters you barely understood.”

The hallway falls deathly silent. My classmates are frozen, their eyes wide as they watch me, my quirk still holding Shinsou mere inches from my face. I can feel my pulse in my ears, the intensity of my emotions making the air around me hum with power.

“You think it’s going to be easy?” I spit the words out, my voice trembling with rage. “You think you can just declare war on us like we haven’t already been through hell?”

Shinsou’s eyes lock with mine, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of something—uncertainty?—in his gaze. But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t get to walk in here and belittle everything we’ve gone through. I won’t let him.

“I won’t let you,” I whisper, my voice low but steady, filled with conviction. “I won’t let you take what we’ve earned. We survived. We fought for our lives. So don’t you dare act like it’s going to be easy.”

I release him, my quirk dropping as suddenly as it had activated. Shinsou stumbles back, his face unreadable, but I don’t care. My body trembles slightly, the adrenaline still coursing through me, but the anger has already begun to cool, leaving me feeling oddly hollow.

The hallway is eerily quiet. My classmates are staring at me in disbelief. I can feel their eyes on me—shock, awe, maybe even a little fear. I hadn’t meant to lose control like that, but… I couldn’t stop myself.

Momo steps forward, her hand gently resting on my arm. “Mailin…” she whispers, her voice calm, but I can hear the concern lacing her words. “It’s okay.”

Midoriya, standing off to the side, looks stunned. His wide eyes flicker between me and Shinsou. “Hoshino…” he murmurs, but there’s admiration in his voice.

Kirishima, always quick to break the tension, grins. “Damn, Hoshino! That was intense!”

Even Iida looks torn between scolding me for using my quirk so recklessly and being impressed by my boldness.

Shinsou, regaining his composure, brushes himself off with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So that’s how it is, huh?” he says, his voice low and measured. “Guess I’ll have to see for myself at the festival.”

He turns and walks away, but the tension he left behind lingers. My body feels heavy with the weight of everything that just happened. My classmates are still watching me, their gazes filled with curiosity and, for the first time, respect.

As I stand there, the adrenaline finally ebbing away, all I can think about is how close I came to completely losing control. How easy it would’ve been to let my anger sweep me away, just like at the USJ.

Momo gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says softly, “but… I’m glad you stood up for us.”

I try to force a smile, but the guilt is already gnawing at me. I don’t know if what I did was brave or reckless, but I know one thing for sure—there’s no turning back now.

As the hallway empties out, I catch Bakugou’s eye from across the room. His arms are crossed, his usual scowl in place, but there’s something different in his expression. A flicker of approval. He gives me the slightest nod, a subtle acknowledgment.

“Not bad, Hoshino,” he mutters, his voice just loud enough for me to hear. It’s not a compliment, not really, but coming from Bakugou, it feels like one.