【 Tranquility 】

Between the Dots

A few weeks have passed, and All Might has been training us harder than ever. And here I thought he was the lenient teacher. My muscles were screaming from days of running laps, lifting weights, and torturous practice battles in the TDL.

I shifted my weight for comfort while Mr Aizawa stood before us in the common area. My ears and mind were elsewhere as Uraraka and I complained about our exhaustion until the word 'Newspaper' reached my ears.

"A newspaper?" Someone in the class asked, to which Aizawa said, "Yeah. A newspaper wants to do a feature on you all."

An article about a bunch of sixteen-year-olds? My stomach clenches. What would they even ask us? How we're "coping" after everything like we're some tragic case study? Or would it be a PR stunt, smoothing over everything that went down at Kamino? Would they ask about Bakugo?

I practically gasp. "Seriously?"

"It's kind of embarrassing," Kaminari said.
Kirishima stretched his arms, "Why?"
"Imagine having your face shown in a newspaper. Better be a good photo." I added, voice lowering. "We'd have more people in our business..."

Mr Aizawa's voice cuts sharply through the chatter. "Don't get too excited. The article is supposed to be about how you all are doing in the dorms you just moved into. The principal thought it would be good for your parents and guardians to see you all living happily here, so he gave special permission. That's why..."

Mineta, like the huge pervert he is, interrupts with a sentence that leaves him wrapped in Mr Aizawa's scarf. He squirms and writhes, voice muffled while Kirishima and I snickered. "So you better not do anything like that," our teacher then warns.

Then an unfamiliar voice comes from around the corner. "You don't have to be like that, Mr. Aizawa. I want to report on the U.A. students in their natural state in the dorms."

"Mr. Tokuda, I didn't say you could come in yet—"

A tall, slender man with wavy black hair and round glasses walks into view, his bony fingers pointing at his watch. "I was told I could be here from 8 am to 6 pm. It's already time," he said. Mr Aizawa loosened his scarf as the handsome man walked closer.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Tokuda, a reporter. Thanks for having me here today." He said with a bow.
"Nice to meet you!" We greeted, bowing as well.

"You don't have to do anything special. Please, just show the camera how you normally live. I might ask you some questions occasionally, so I'll be counting on you then." He said, kind blue eyes softening as he flashed a pleasant, toothy smile.

"He's giving off a charming but mischievous vibe," I remarked, like the kind of guy who knows exactly how to make people like him and run their mouth.
Kaminari leans closer to whisper, "He's giving popular guy vibes to me."

Mr Aizawa points out our class president. "Iida, if there's a problem, let me know immediately. Got it?"
"Yes, sir! As the class representative for class 1-A, I, Tenya Iida, will carry out my duty—"
The photographer cuts in, "Okay, then, um... what would you usually be doing now?"
"Having breakfast!"
He smiled awkwardly; "You don't have to be so nervous... Just pretend I'm not here."

Everyone turned to the kitchen and I followed, noting the usual containers and food items lining the shelf. All the same stuff, and my stomach growls at the thought of bread.
As I spread ketchup over my lettuce, I watched in the corner of my eye as Mr Tokuda snapped pictures of my classmates enjoying their food. I take a seat with Tsu and Uraraka, my eyes flicking away from the camera as if ignoring it would somehow make me look more natural. Did it look good?

The thought hits me out of nowhere. Being documented, having people I don't even know form opinions about me and my friends based on a single snapshot in time. Would I wake up in five years, open a newspaper, and see my own face staring back—older, hopefully wiser, but still just me?
My stomach felt weird, and I wasn't sure if it was hunger or something else.