Chapter Text
‘We’ll have you form teams of two to fight against one teacher!’
Some holler. Some cry out in frustration. Class B, for the most part, is a picture of pandemonium; Neito Monoma, however, dignified as he is, smirks in satisfaction. This is excellent. This is much better than the original plan – he can’t use his Quirk on robots, after all. He shares a fist bump with Tetsutetsu behind him.
‘Um, hold on, please,’ Kendo says, raising her hand. ‘There seem to be only… eight teachers here. If two students are assigned to each teacher, that would leave four students out.’ Nezu smiles.
‘Astutely observed, Miss Kendo! I was going to explain but you beat me to it,’ Principal Nezu laughs. The back of her ears reddens as he holds in a snicker. ‘We are missing Mister Cementoss. This is because he is up against a pair from Class A right now.’ Monoma can’t help but clench his fist. Of course Class A were briefed first. They can’t resist hogging all the attention. Damn it. ‘As for the other vacancy…’
A silhouette blocks out the sun. Class B raise their heads just as the hulking, muscle-bound man leaps from his perch on the school building, plummeting to the ground. He scatters dust and crashes down with a mighty thud. The red-and-blue hero flashes his winning smile. ‘I AM HERE!’
Some cheers ring out, but a chill runs through the class. Who can blame them? No one wants to be the unlucky sap fighting All Might. Well… he might be a possible exception. What would that amazing power feel like at his fingertips? That’s if he can even touch him, of course. That applies to all of the teachers – getting within range is going to be a tricky operation. He has to do this, though. If he can’t get a higher score than those morons in Class A, what the hell is he doing?
The explanation goes on, and Monoma frowns deeper and deeper. This is a big test. Of the teachers in front of him, who can he consider taking on? All Might? No. For Cementoss, he’d need a mobility-aiding Quirk for sure. Ectoplasm and Midnight are odd cases; the tide might turn if their Quirks can be copied through the clones or Somnabulist. Snipe? No way. He can’t outrun that – he grits his teeth. He couldn’t outrun Bakugo and his fucking team either.
It keeps flashing in his mind: his humiliating defeat in the Sports Festival. All his headbands, whisked away. That damn motherfucking slip n’ slide move. Watching his worst enemies dominate the final round. He has to show them, can’t lose here, he can’t, he can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t -
Oh. A hand firmly squeezes his shoulder and he inhales sharply. ‘Psst, stop thinking about Class A,’ Tetsutetsu says into his ear. He rolls his eyes in response. Tetsutetsu’s gotten real good at guessing what he’s thinking about. Well, more like who. On second thought, though, it’s best if he focuses on the task at hand. He takes a deep breath. He can do this. He’s Neito Monoma. A confident smirk paints itself onto his face. Fake it ‘til you make it, baby.
‘I’m okay, don’t worry,’ he mutters to Tetsutetsu, whose face lights up. They discreetly fist bump – not discreetly enough, it seems. Tsuburaba’s googly eyes spot them from the back.
‘Psst, y’all handing out fist bumps? I’ll need one after that mess of a written exam.’ He puts his fist in between them. This attracts Awase(‘Fist bump? Fuck yeah!’) and Kuroiro, setting off a chain reaction. Any semblance of secrecy is gone at this stage. Bit by bit, most of the class has wheeled around, pooling outstretched fists into the a massive pile in the centre.
‘Oh, fine,’ Kendo relents, the last one in. Her enlarged hand joins the fray.
‘To Class 1-B,’ Monoma toasts.
‘TO CLASS 1-B!’ Hands go flying forward, bumping into each other and bruising some hands. They cheer, and Monoma cheers with them. Hell yes. 1-B power. We can do anything. Standing out is great, but sometimes it’s also nice to just be part of a crowd who are enjoying themselves.
‘Ahem.’ Principal Nezu stops them cold with a single word. They turn their heads slowly to look at him. In retrospect, that must have looked extremely weird to the teachers. They disassemble awkwardly and turn to face them again. Monoma’s putting on a smile but he can feel his face warming up.
‘Oh my god, that was so damn youthful,’ Midnight coos.
A laugh booms out from All Might. ‘Full marks for team spirit,’ he says, flashing them a thumbs up.
‘As I was saying, your matchups have already been chosen,’ Nezu carries on as if nothing had happened. What a trooper. ‘We are ready to begin immediately, starting with Pony Tsunotori and Kosei Tsuburaba versus Thirteen!’