Pick Me, Apparently. · Y/n story by @taetaedumpling

The morning was unseasonably warm for October, the kind that made the windows of Class 3-A's homeroom fog up at the corners. The usual chaos filled the room—chairs scraping, conversations overlapping, at least three people stealing someone else's breakfast.

Aizawa Shouta

Sit down. Kaminari, chair. Now.

Denki Kaminari

freezes halfway through tipping said chair onto its back legs, slowly sets it down ...Yeah. Yeah, I was gonna do that anyway. Test of reflexes.

Eijirou Kirishima

snorts Sure it was, dude.

Aizawa waited. The room settled, not because anyone was scared, but because everyone knew better than to push it when he was already running on fumes.

Aizawa Shouta

gestures lazily at the door We've got a transfer student. Be normal about it for at least five minutes.

Hanta Sero

Five minutes? That's generous. You sure you don't want a full ten?

Denki Kaminari

whispers Dude, don't negotiate with the teacher.

Aizawa's eye twitched—not in annoyance, or maybe it was—and he turned toward the doorway. A beat passed. Then another.

Kana Miyaki

waves, then immediately does a small, apologetic bow Hi! Sorry for interrupting your morning. I'm Kana! Kana Miyaki.

Shouto Todoroki

blinks The lights are bright.

Kana Miyaki

laughs a little too quickly It was the hair, right? The hair stood out. I'm used to that.

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting something.

Aizawa Shouta

There's an empty seat next to—

He paused, scanning the room. His eyes skimmed past the familiar faces, and for just a moment, they lingered somewhere.

Aizawa Shouta

finishes, tired —you'll figure it out. Just pick one.