Chapter Text
As much as Izumi missed her long hair, she would admit that the hairstyle Present Mic gave her looked amazing. Walking into class the next day, Izumi could almost pretend the decision to cut it had been entirely hers. The girls gushed over her new look with praise and admiration, and no one asked why she’d gotten it cut. Izumi didn’t know if someone had told them or not, but she was grateful no one was going to make her explain.
As Aizawa-sensei started homeroom, the class finally settled into their seats. Izumi noticed his eyes paused briefly on her as they swept over the class, and she gave him a small reassuring smile. He gave her an infinitesimally small nod in acknowledgment and then started class.
After announcing that the Sports Festival would be happening as planned, Aizawa-sensei stressed the importance of the event to them all and urged them to do their best, which meant they couldn’t afford to slack on their training. Even though Izumi planned on going Underground, the Sports Festival was still the best way to get scouted. She didn’t need to win, after all, she just needed to show potential agencies what she was capable of.
Everyone was excited, to say the least. Uraraka’s determined aura was strong enough to give Kacchan a run for his money, and Izumi laughed quietly with Shouchan as the two began circling each other in challenge.
Watching a string form in front of her eyes was always a treat, particularly when it was between people Izumi cared about. It had taken Kacchan and Shouchan over a year to finally form a string, and even now their relationship was more of a friendly rivalry than anything. Izumi was glad Uraraka and Kacchan formed one in a much shorter time. In fact, Kacchan had a new string with Kirishima as well. Izumi was surprised he’d formed connections so quickly—he’d always been slow to do so—but not at all displeased.
Shouchan also had a string with Uraraka, but Izumi wasn’t sure when that had happened. Probably right after the USJ. The three of them had been together for a while before Izumi had been released from the hospital. Shouchan hadn’t formed a connection with anyone else in the class yet, though. Of course, neither had Izumi.
“What’s it say about us that Kacchan has more friends in class than we do?” Izumi whispered to Shouchan with a disparaging smile.
“Seems more like a reflection of our classmates’ poor taste to me,” He replied.
Izumi snorted quietly and pushed Shouchan’s shoulder. “We should try a little harder to get to know them.”
“We’ve only been at UA a week. I’m just happy to be around you guys during school.”
“Finally being in the same class makes it tempting to stick together,” Izumi smiled warmly. “But we shouldn’t do it exclusively.”
“We can do it for a little while.” Shouchan ducked his head, hiding his eyes under his hair as he looked sullen at his feet.
Before Izumi could respond, a large shadow blocked their light as Yoarashi stood in front of them. Izumi tensed, ready to rip into the idiot if he so much as thought about insulting Shouchan again. Shouto looked up and met Yoarashi’s eyes cautiously, and the rest of the room froze as suddenly everyone was paying attention to the three of them.
“At Aizawa-Sensei’s instruction, I have been observing you. I believe he wished for me to put aside my preconceived notions of you so that I might see the error in my judgment,” Yoarashi stated, loudly. Izumi wondered if he had a setting other than Loud.
“Oh?” Shouto asked.
Yoarashi by nature of his immense size was already crowding Izumi and Shouto as he addressed them in the aisle between desks. When he threw himself into a low bow, Izumi was forced to jump fully onto the desk she’d been leaning against to avoid getting accidentally headbutted while Shouto pushed the chair behind him away so he could stand between two desks out of range of the prostrated assault.
“Forgive me!” Yoarashi shouted. “I formed an opinion of you based on my opinion of your father. Facing you as an opponent in a battle simulation was not the place to form an accurate impression of your personality, and in my observations, I have seen that I was incorrect. I hope that in time you will accept my apology and allow me the chance to get to know you as a fellow classmate and prospective hero!”
Izumi wished Yoarashi had waited to apologize in private. Not only did he put Shouto on the spot, he did so in front of the entire class. If Shouto chose not to forgive him—which was well within his rights—Shouto might come off as the asshole.
It was also a lackluster apology in Izumi’s opinion. He apologized for his incorrect opinion of Shouto’s personality, but not what he’d said? Where was the apology for saying Shouto was just like his abusive father? How about one for sending Shouchan into a panic attack?
Izumi was fuming! If she hadn’t promised Aizawa-sensei not to take matters into her own hands again, Yoarashi would be nursing his family jewels.
“You accused me of being the same as my abusive father,” Shouto said incredulously. Izumi heard the whispers start, particularly from the girls in the class, though there were more than a few guys as well. “It doesn’t really matter that you realized your opinion of me was wrong; you shouldn’t have said it at all.”
There was a heavy moment of silence before Kacchan growled. “That was your cue to make a less shitty apology, Baldy.”
“Yeah, I think I get why Midoriya punched you in the junk before.” Uraraka crossed her arms and glared at Yoarashi.
“Violence upon a fellow student is against UA policy and unheroic!” Iida scolded.
“So is what Yoarashi said,” Izumi stated. She didn’t want to escalate the situation, but she wouldn’t let Yoarashi’s part be downplayed either. “And frankly, Yoarashi, the way you’re handling this doesn’t inspire confidence that you’ve actually learned that.”
The enormous teen looked up from his bow to meet her eyes, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Look around you, Yoarashi,” Izumi gestured to the others in the room in agitation. “You did this in front of the whole class and cornered Shouchan so he couldn’t escape if he wanted to. Maybe he wasn’t ready to forgive you, maybe he didn’t want what happened to be aired out in front of everyone. If you wanted to apologize—which you still haven’t done properly—you should have asked to talk privately instead of shouting and making a spectacle. It almost makes it seem like you only wanted to be seen apologizing instead of actually apologizing.”
“Brutal,” someone whispered. Izumi wasn’t positive, but she thought it might have been Kaminari.
Yoarashi stood up at last and appeared to be contemplating something intently. Izumi would have loved to slip away, but he was still blocking the aisle. Before she got desperate enough to test the window behind her, Yoarashi finally spoke. “I was eager to put the matter behind us, to move on and begin our journey as comrades, but in my haste, I seem to have made another error. In that case, I will wait until such a time as you are ready to accept my apology! Once you are ready, Todoroki, find me at a time and place that is comfortable for you, and I will offer my sincerest apologies!”
Finally, Yoarashi moved away, freeing Shouto and Izumi from his oppressive bulk. Izumi brushed her hand over her skirt, straightening it as she stood on the floor once more thinking she should take a note from Uraraka’s book and wear leggings more often.
When Yoarashi slid the classroom door open, Izumi was surprised to see the hallway clogged with so many students all gawking at her and her classmates.
“Uh…” Uraraka took a half step back, clearly as surprised and unnerved as Izumi. “What the heck?”
“Good afternoon!” Yoarashi boasted at his normal volume. “Please disperse so that we may pass.”
“Tch, idiot,” Kacchan growled. “They came to get a look at the class that survived a real villain attack; scoping out the competition for the Sports Festival.”
Izumi stiffened slightly as she realized Kacchan was right.
Yoarashi laughed loud with exaggerated bluster, puffing up like a peacock. “In that case, get a good look, my fellow students!”
“Do you think you’re really so much better than the rest of us?” Drawled a blond at the front of the pack. He eyed Yoarashi with thinly veiled disdain before his eyes swept over the rest of the class, landing at last on Izumi. “Class A really is full of themselves. It’s amazing your ego even fits through the door.”
“Hey, man,” Kirishima started, trying to ease the growing tension, “It’s not like that at all–”
“Isn’t it?” The blond cocked an unimpressed brow. “Word all over the school is about Class A’s scuffle. You all took on some petty thugs, dressed it up as a battle against Villains, and patted yourselves on the back for being Big Heroes. ‘Course only one of you actually faced any real villains.”
Izumi did her best to subtly hide behind Shouto as she felt more than a few eyes drift her way. The last thing she wanted was to have what happened at the USJ flaunted about. It had been harrowing, and she hadn’t had an uninterrupted night’s sleep since. She decided to pull on her string to Aizawa-Sensei. With luck, he’d arrive quickly and make the crowd go away.
“How did you know that? The details haven’t been released to the public.” Shouto stared the blond boy down, suspicion written into every line of his frame.
The boy laughed haughtily. “Your classmates were telling anyone who would listen during lunch! Clearly, Class A’s need for glory surpasses any need for discretion.”
There were a few faces in class that turned sheepish at that. Izumi wasn’t wholly surprised to learn that Mina, Hagakure, and Kaminari had blabbed. They weren’t malicious or glory-hounds like the blond was accusing, but they did love to gossip.
“So,” the blond’s smile turned sharp. “If we were here to scope out the competition, well… There’d really only be one of you that falls under that category, wouldn’t there?”
The window was looking better and better at this point. Izumi didn’t think Aizawa-Sensei would mind too much if she only broke it a little bit, but since he was now on his way, she’d refrain from self-defenestration.
“Who even are you?” Uraraka demanded.
“He’s a damn extra,” Kacchan growled. “Here to run his mouth to try to make himself feel more important.”
The blond straighten up, puffing out his chest, not unlike Yoarashi had earlier as he glared at Kacchan. “I am Monoma Neito, Class 1-B.”
“Anyone still blocking the door to my classroom in ten seconds is getting detention.” Aizawa-Sensei’s quirk-enhanced glare was as intimidating as ever, and Izumi watched in amused awe as the crowd scattered.
The last of the crowd to leave was a tall, purple-haired boy who leveled an appraising gaze at each of the members of 1-A before strolling calmly away. Izumi would have dismissed him entirely if it weren’t for the almost-hidden look of awe gave Aizawa-sensei as he left. Izumi knew hero-worship when she saw it; she was a little surprised it was directed at Aizawa-Sensei though. As an underground hero, not many people would recognize him and fewer still would be fans. She silently applauded his taste though.
“Midoriya,” Aizawa-sensei caught her attention.
“Sensei?”
“You used your quirk to bring me here, I assume?” He crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, leaving more than enough room for the students intent on leaving.
Izumi nodded. “Yes, Sir. Was it too much? It’s hard for me to judge how strong of a pull to use sometimes.”
“It’s something to work on,” Aizawa-Sensei commented. “Outside of training or emergencies, please refrain from using it without a teacher’s express permission. It is technically illegal quirk use.”
“I think it was justified in this case,” Yaoyorozu said. Most of the class had left already, but the other girl had stayed behind with Izumi, her friends, and Kirishima. “Monoma was…antagonizing the class.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Uraraka muttered darkly.
Aizawa-Sensei raised an inquiring eyebrow, silently ordering someone to explain.
“He implied that the class exaggerated the severity of the attack at the USJ for personal glory and that Midoriya was the only one in the class he considered competition since she faced real villains,” Yaoyorozu reported hesitantly.
Izumi winced at the mentioned callout, which did not go unnoticed by her teacher.
“It was super uncool,” Kirishima added. He’d crossed his arms defensively across his chest, a frown replacing his normally-present smile. “He made it sound like we wanted to get attacked.”
“I apologize for not attempting to resolve the situation. As class president, I should have tried to de-escalate, but I froze up.” Yaoyorozu bowed deeply, and Izumi could hear the tremor in her voice.
“The events of the USJ were traumatic,” Aizawa-Sensei consoled them all. “It was highly inappropriate for Monoma to try to use it against you. You don’t need to apologize, Yaoyorozu. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
They took that as the dismissal it was and made their way out of the classroom. Kirishima pulled Kacchan, Uraraka, and Shouchan into a discussion about training for the festival as they walked, and Izumi left them to it as she fell into step with Yaoyorozu.
“Thanks,” Izumi smiled at the taller girl gently. “For backing me up with Aizawa-Sensei.”
Yaoyorozu looked shocked that Izumi was talking with her at first, but she brightened up once she got over her surprise. “It was nothing! I wish I had done more before it got that point, but it was smart of you to get Aizawa-Sensei’s attention.”
“It was that or escape out the window.”
Yaoyorozu laughed quietly, probably assuming Izumi was exaggerating—she was not—and eagerly launched into a discussion about how Izumi’s quirk worked. Izumi answered her questions and asked more than a few of her own about Yaoyorozu’s in return, thrilled to find the refined girl was also interested in quirk analysis. They talked the whole way to the gates of UA, and Izumi was pleasantly surprised to see a string had formed as they parted ways.