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It was a fairly normal Tuesday.
Aizawa had shuffled in, announced a new practical exercise for next period and given out instructions for forming teams and strategies, before laying his head on the table for a very determined power nap. After a brief pause for Momo to pass along a blanket to the front of the class, the students had quickly migrated to their usual groups and erupted into discussions which were, for the most part, about the topic of the class.
“I think we should have teams with Quirks divided pretty evenly into offensive and defensive,” Izuku was saying, sitting on his desk, flipping through their handouts.
“I think you should eat a dick,” Katsuki muttered under his breath from his lonely angry corner.
“I think that’s a great idea, Deku,” Ochaco said peacefully. “I also think people whose name rhyme with baggage glow should probably shove their head up their ass. There, we’re all contributing.”
“What an oddly specific thing to say,” Izuku said, beaming at her. Tenya patted him on the head gently.
There was a drawn-out, screeching sound as Mineta attempted to spin his non-spinning regular chair around to face Ochaco. She went stiff in unpleasant anticipation.
“You know,” Mineta said huskily, “I never knew you were such a pottymouth, Uraraka. It’s, uhm, kind of a turn-on.” Beside him, Denki let out a low guffaw, and Mineta elbowed him playfully.
“Okay,” Ochaco said evenly. “Anyway, back to the exercise- “
“I have a strategy,” Mineta continued sotto voce to Denki. “All the girls, fighting naked, in one team. No, wait, one girl in each team and they fight each other!”
The room went quiet. Mineta continued, obliviously. “Olive oil included, of course.”
“Uh,” Denki said, glancing at the front of the room, and then hastily taking his seat.
“That’s it. Enough’s enough.”
The whole class turned as one to witness their teacher, who’d stood up behind his desk with a stormy expression and nap-tousled hair, peering at the room full of teenagers like he was about to start chucking chalk.
Tsuyu held up her hand. “Enough sleep, sir?”
“Absolutely not,” Aizawa said, glowering at the question.
“Enough dirty scarves?” Kirishima piped up.
“No – okay, just stop guessing, all of you,” Aizawa rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Enough of the frankly exhausting parade of perverted comments and sexual harassment. Mineta, I woke up because you need to stop.”
“What, me?” Mineta exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch indignantly. “Sir- “
“Don’t play coy now,” Aizawa said flatly. “I let the incident at the sports festival slip because I was hopped up on painkillers, but you seem to have only gotten worse. So, since you have no qualms talking about the assets – shut up, no snickering – of your fellow classmates, we’re going to talk about you.”
All the girls in the class raised their hands immediately.
“Couldn’t I just get detention?” Mineta asked, starting to turn pale as he looked around. “You know, like in a normal school?”
“No,” Aizawa said shortly. “Now, I understand that you’re both curious and completely inexperienced when it comes to girls.” He lifted his hand before Mineta could open his mouth again. “So you overcompensate to gain better societal status among your peers, and they reward you with some awkward chuckles that you in your overly optimistic heart interpret as acceptance. Girls continue to confuse and frighten you, so you degrade them just to feel in control. You don’t get corrected, and you don’t really see women as human beings, so you feel entitled to treat them like your personal wank material, and they’re too polite to file for a restraining order.”
At this point, the whole class was listening in silence, sensing, somehow, that this was a moment of great historical importance. Kyoka was slowly unwrapping a candy bar, unable to peel her eyes away. Aizawa continued.
“I get it. I understand. I just don’t approve. Your youth is no excuse. Your ignorance is no excuse. The fact that your male friends fail to correct you- “ and at this point he shifted to glare at the rest of the room, “is no excuse.”
“This is an overreaction,” Mineta protested. “I’m not some pervert! I’m just a healthy guy, who likes girls, like any guy here does! What, now flirting isn’t allowed anymore?”
“Oh, so you like girls, do you?” Aizawa said, his voice as flat as a dried up pancake.
“Yes!” Mineta said, flushing defensively.
“Fine,” said Aizawa curtly, pointing at Momo. “What’s her favourite movie?”
“The,” Mineta stammered. “Uhm. Trick question, she doesn’t have one?”
“It’s Wall-E,” said Momo quietly, staring at her desk.
"But I bet you know her bra size." Aizawa pointed at Tsuyu. “What’s Asui’s favourite colour?”
“Um, blue?” Mineta ventured.
“I wear green literally every day,” Asui said mildly from her seat.
“I guess you only pay attention to certain things in her appearance. Name one thing Jiro likes,” Aizawa pressed on, mercilessly.
“Uh,” Mineta looked around, eyes wide. “Trick question- ?”
“Dude,” Denki said. “Even I know she likes turtles.” The other students nodded in agreement.
“Even I knew that, and I try not to take any personal interest in my students,” Aizawa said. “Except for Asui.”
“Why her?” Sero blinked.
“I just like her.”
“This isn’t fair!” Mineta cried out. “Why am I being bullied all of a sudden?”
“There’s only one bully in this room, and he’s currently carving Midoriya’s name on his desk – yes, Bakugo, I’m sending a letter to your parents,” Aizawa said, evenly. “This is an intervention. Mineta. Because you're bothering your classmates.”
“It’s honestly tiring to feel uneasy every day in class,” Momo said seriously.
“I can’t bend down to pick up anything anymore,” Ashido pointed out. “Like, how messed up is that?”
“It’s not cute and it’s not funny,” Ochaco said.
“I’m invisible, and you still make me feel gross!” Toru piped up.
“Every time I feel your eyes upon my body, I crave for the cleansing heat of fire to come and purify me deep into my soul,” Tsuyu said, and then added, completely deadpan, “Ribbit.”
“Atta girl,” Aizawa said, and then continued.
“Frankly, I don’t know what kind of career you’re envisioning when you have trouble distinguishing half of the population of Earth as people. But since I’m on my first streak of not expelling a student before the first term, and there’s a bet going around - and since I feel like it falls within my hero duties to not let you grow up to be the person trying to neg women on Facebook – I’m giving you a second chance.“
Mineta lifted his head from the table, peering at Aizawa tentatively. “What – what kind of a chance?”
“No more ‘flirting’,” Aizawa said. “No innuendo, no dirty puns, no ogling, or touching your classmates without their consent. No cutesy hijinks involving clothing. No tripping and copping a feel in a comical fashion. I once expelled a kid because we both wore the same shirt for school, I’m not above expelling you the moment you utter the words harem anime.”
“Really, sir?” Tenya piped in incredulously.
“Well, he was also stealing class equipment. But it was mostly the shirt.”
Mineta groaned, resting his head gently on his desk: Denki reached out, patting him on the back gingerly.
Aizawa leaned down, pulling two books onto his table.
“Now,” he continued, “I was all too prepared to have this conversation eventually, probably somewhere private, where you could’ve been spared the public humiliation- “
“Why didn’t you?” Mineta asked muffledly.
“Honestly, I’m still pretty stoned on Vicodin,” Aizawa said. “As I was saying – since this is probably going to leave some kind of a gap in the classroom dynamics, not to mention your fragile teenage identity, I figured I’d offer you some alternatives.” He lifted the books in the air. “You can choose between birdwatching and card tricks.”
Mineta stared at his teacher. The class, standing on the precipice of a new, less uncomfortable era, held their breath in anticipation.
“I,” Mineta croaked, and then continued, hesitantly, “I guess I’ll pick – the card tricks? I could be the card trick guy.”
There was a singular, solemn clap from the back, before the students burst into applauds. Card Tricks For Dummies was passed along from desk to desk with grand solemnity, until it reached its new owner. Mineta held onto it, with the expression of a man desperate for people to stop talking about him.
“Good choice,” Aizawa said, clapping along lazily. “All right, now that’s dealt with, we can move onto other business. Someone unfurl the banner.”
“Finally!” Kirishima exclaimed, pulling out a hand-written letter with great flourish.
Tenya stood up, yanking on a rope that revealed, above the blackboard, a banner that read ANGER MANAGEMENT: IT’S NOT JUST A BAD MOVIE.
“Right,” Aizawa said. “Bakugo, this is an intervention.”
Katsuki wrenched his gaze away from his intense exploration of the back of Izuku’s head. “You have got to be shitting me.”
Aizawa steepled his fingers together. His eyes turned red, gaze sweeping across the classroom.
“Let’s talk about meditation.”