The Class That Cried Werewolf

50 - Top Dog

-3rd Person POV-

The three days of house arrest had dragged on like molasses, but on the final stretch, something strange caught Izuku's eye. He had stepped outside to take the trash out, the rhythmic creak of the bag swinging in his hands filling the quiet air when a face literally appeared out of the wall. Wide eyes, perfectly framed by the concrete, blinked at him with an unnerving casualness.

Izuku froze, his grip on the garbage tightening. Surprises like this weren't unheard of in a world where superpowers shaped society, but that didn't stop his pulse from spiking.

Izuku replayed the encounter in his head as if trying to convince himself it hadn't been a bizarre dream. This morning, however, his thoughts screeched to a halt when the door opened, and in strolled the same face—now attached to a body.

The Big Three. And it's him! Izuku thought, his mouth parting in shock as he recognized the man from his encounter with the wall. Togata's relaxed grin was unmistakable.

"Oh, wow!" Ashido's voice snapped Izuku out of his thoughts. Her enthusiasm bubbled over as she practically bounced in her seat.

"Of all the talented students here, they're the ones at the top," Iida declared, his tone full of admiration as he adjusted his glasses with a crisp motion.

Yaoyorozu nodded, her hands folded neatly on her desk. "They're on a different level. Still in school but practically pro heroes."

"If they're as good as I hear, then they're the students we should be chasing after," Jiro added, leaning forward with a contemplative gaze.

"Eh, I don't know. They don't look all that special to me." Kaminari tilted his head, his usual laziness creeping into his voice. "Except the girl, she's pretty hot."

Target acquired. Zoom and enhance, Mineta thought, his gaze locking onto Hado with predatory intensity. He leaned forward, his beady eyes narrowing as if his vision had turned into a laser beam. A gleeful, drooling grin crept onto his face as his brain spiraled into places no one wanted to imagine.

The guy from outside, Izuku thought, casting a side glance at Togata. I could only see his face then, so I didn't recognize him. But I know who he is. He was in the Sports Festival I watched from home last year. He didn't do so well, but he, uh, definitely left an impression. If I remember correctly, the other two didn't take home any medals, either. And yet, they're U.A.'s Big Three.

Aizawa's voice cut through the hum of chatter, sharp and matter-of-fact. "Get to it. Introduce yourselves briefly. Let's start with Amajiki."

All eyes turned to the dark-haired boy, who shifted uncomfortably under the attention. His gaze bore into the room with such intensity it was as if he could see every flaw and fear written across their faces.

Most of the class squirmed under the weight of his stare, the oppressive silence thick enough to suffocate. Tatsuya, however, leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable as he locked eyes with Amajiki, the tension between them seemingly lost on everyone else.

"It's no good," Amajiki eventually muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words filled the room. His whole body seemed to shrink under the pressure of so many eyes on him. "You two go. I just can't. Even if I try to imagine them as potatoes, I can see their human bodies. I still know they're still people. No words are coming out. My mind's blank, and my mouth is dry. I can't say anything. I wanna..." He turned to the wall, his forehead pressing against it like he was trying to meld with the surface, his shoulders trembling. "Go home."

Ojiro scratched the back of his head awkwardly, a nervous sweat beading on his temple. "Okay. So, um... are you really one of U.A.'s top heroes?" he asked hesitantly, the unfiltered honesty drawing a collective wince from the class.