Monoma Neito | Roommates | My hero Academia

The weekend had settled over the U.A. dorms like a warm blanket—quiet, unhurried, the kind of stillness that made the hallways feel almost abandoned. In the 1-B dorm room, the afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting a lazy golden glow over the pastel walls and antique furniture that belonged to one half of the room. The other half, still plain and undecorated, had only a bed and a desk. Y/n's half.

Monoma Neito

striding in with his chin high, grin spread wide across his face What a magnificent morning it is, isn't it?

He paused, one hand on the doorframe, looking entirely too pleased with himself. His blond hair was slightly ruffled, and there was a gleam in those half-lidded periwinkle eyes that suggested he'd been up to something particularly satisfying.

Monoma Neito

closing the door behind him, practically strutting across the room I've just had the most delightful conversation with Class 1-A. The look on Bakugo's face when I told him his "explosive" personality was the only thing holding his class back from mediocrity—chef's kiss.

He tossed himself onto his bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling with that insufferable smirk still in place.

Monoma Neito

But I couldn't help thinking, as I was walking back—there's only one person in this entire school with enough sense to actually talk to. And lucky for me, they're my roommate.

He tilted his head, that smirk tilting into something almost, almost friendly.

Monoma Neito

So. What were you up to before I so graciously interrupted your boring weekend?