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It is a rare day for you to feel rushed and yet, here you are. Late to the first day back to school and, more importantly, late to meeting the new students. The gate of U.A. stands imposingly, even more so with reporters seeking interviews with teachers who rose in the ranks over break or students expected to do well at this year’s sports festival crowding it. You, thankfully, slip through the crowd with only one or two excited shouts of your name. Offering a friendly smile and wave, you walk more confidently once on campus.
You check your watch once more; five minutes until homeroom meetings end and you are expected in the first of six classes for the day. And it's Hero-Course day. Those kids are always the hardest to convince that general coursework is needed. At least you have time to work up the nerve to face the first-years since Shota asked if he could move Class 1-A’s lesson to the end of the day. It was an easy concession - you have been here too many years to question his additional testing.
Sliding in to Class 3-B, you sigh when you notice the teacher is still engrossed in reading off announcements. You totally had time to get tea from the teacher’s lounge. The teacher finally finishes and, knowing you need no introduction, nods as they pass you on the way out. “Lucky bastard is probably going for tea,” you grumble. 3-B laughs, used to your antics. It causes you to beam, happy to be back with the students.
Most of the day passes similarly, with some of your favorite students ecstatic to see you and others groaning over their book assignments. In Class 3-A, Amajiki almost forgot he was in public for a moment, speaking at a normal volume, excited for the prospect of another year hiding in your library while Hado scrunched her nose at the title of the first book of the year - As I Lay Dying . The second years had similarly mixed reactions. A few instinctively flipped through the book and paused at a chapter that simply consisted of, “My mother is a fish.” That caused an uproar and you had to placate the class with promises that no, that is not a wonky translation and we will discuss it when you get to that chapter, I promise.
With that exhausting class over, you collapse into your seat in the teacher’s lounge, needing a moment to rest before you even think about eating. Of course in this school, rest never comes so easy. Your moment of reprieve is interrupted by blood-filled coughing and you peek your eyes over your crossed arms to see former student, Toshinori Yagi.
You sigh and rustle in your desk for a tissue, seeing as his handkerchief was already stained and near-soaked. He accepts it with a small blush, muttering a thank you. “(y/n)-san, do you mind my asking how you manage all these classes?” Toshinori asks and gestures to his mess of paperwork and lesson plans, “I only have two classes and I haven’t even learned the names yet.”
Your lip quirks slightly, “Practice?” The non committal answer makes him groan. “Sorry I’m not of much help. I must go, though; It’s time for me to meet the classes you don’t know.” You can’t help but tease the younger man. When he was at U.A., you never imagined him in a teaching role and even now it’s hard to believe.
You gather the forty copies of The Catcher In The Rye in your bag, heaving it over your shoulder and struggling under its weight. Fifth period of the day is Class 1-A and you're pleased to see Shoto had the students arrange the desks in a Socratic circle during lunch.
Shoto obviously didn’t bother coming back to introduce you, so you’re left to approach the front alone. Before you get a chance to settle, a student is bowing at you and (loudly) introducing himself. “My name is Tenya Iida! It is a pleasure to meet another teacher!”
Shocked at the formality, your first response is to laugh lightly. You wave your hand at him, gesturing for him to sit again, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Iida. I taught your brother, Tensei. Please give him my best.”
“Yes, sensei!”
“Well, that is one introduction over,” You beam at the collection of students. There’s always a special feeling of first greeting a class. The dynamic of each group is still unknown and it allows you a chance to truly guide young minds. Class 1-A has a mix of students already brain-dead from Shoto’s test, a few interested students, and others that seem generally apathetic. Not too crazy for aspiring heros. You clear your throat and introduce yourself, “I will be your literature teacher throughout your school career. You may notice I am not in a hero costume; I am technically licensed but let’s say I’m a lover not a fighter.”
A boy with green hair shoots his hand into the air, “What’s your quirk? Do you have a hero name?”
“No hero name, as I have never truly done fieldwork. My quirk is best described as frozen time or anti-aging, but it works as a regenerative quirk on the cellular level. I taught even All-Might literature years ago, so please entrust me with any questions or concerns.”
The class seems astounded by that fact and Mineta (thank God for class sheets) protests, “But you’re like - a babe! ” It causes you to frown and point a finger in the air.
“Okay, inappropriate but as it’s the first day of class, we will let that slide. I am hundreds of years old and your teacher. Please refrain from commenting on my attractiveness,” you say, cringing. The students laugh lightly at the reprimand. You’re glad to see the majority seem interested in you. “I understand Shoto did his usual first-day test, so I wanted to simply introduce myself, the concept of literature, and give out the first book of the year.”
“Every first-year follows the same curriculum as I believe these books are essential,” You speak, circling the students and handing each a copy. “Now, you may have read this before or you may have a different copy. I ask that you read this version, as I translated it personally and believe it to be most accurate to the spirit of the novel.” Some students look at the book as if it would bite. Iida and a few others hang onto every word - it’s refreshing to know some students won’t resist general education. “I will see you once a week and, with deference to other studies, will ask how far you guys think you can get into the book each week. For now, I only ask that you read the first two chapters before we meet again. Any questions?”
A blonde boy loudly scoffs, leaning back so his chair is balanced on two legs. “Yeah - why should I?”
You pause in your pacing around the circle. “Should do what?” You ask, cocking your head to the side.
“Waste my time reading this crap!”
The rest of the students watch with rapt attention. It’s common to have an unruly student; lots of young people wish to push boundaries and you understand the urgency many hero students feel. Unruliness is the definition of the hero course and you would be more unnerved if there was no attempt to fight. “Well, Bakugo-san, I wish to ask you to treat me with the same respect you would any other teacher. Literature is…,” You falter, looking for the words to express the power of words. The feeling you wish to convey sends you hurtling through your personal history. Times when there was nothing but books for company and times before quirks were truly accepted. Even times when All for One ruled the world. You settle on saying, “I have lived many lifetimes, in many places. The things I have seen, the lessons I have learned… it doesn’t get easier, no matter how ancient I am. Literature is a way to impart some of those lessons in a controlled environment. I came to U.A. years ago hoping to guide young people and the school has allowed me to do so.
“Besides like I said, I have taught All-Might and, well, if it worked for him, should it not be good enough for you?” You finish with an eyebrow raise. The class ooh ’s at the challenge but the blond boy huffs, giving in slightly. You are too experienced to believe that will be the only challenge. “Right, well, let me introduce the novel! The author, J. D. Salinger, wrote this novel in the 1950’s. I was also in American in the 1950’s and personally….”