THIRD PERSON POV
Izuku Midoriya stood before the towering door of Class 1-A, his hand trembling as it hovered over the handle. This was it. The threshold of his dreams. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, and slid the door open.
The peace lasted for approximately half a second.
"Remove your feet from that desk immediately!" a rigid, loud voice boomed.
Izuku blinked. At the front of the room, the tall, bespectacled boy from the entrance exam, Iida Tenya, who was standing in a stiff, military-straight posture. He was chopping his arm through the air like a robot, pointing directly at a very familiar, spiky blonde head.
"Huh?" Bakugo grunted, his feet still firmly planted on the desk as he leaned back with a look of pure, unadulterated disdain. "Why should I?"
"It is an insult to the upperclassmen who sat there before us and the craftsmen who made this desk!" Iida lectured, his voice echoing off the walls. "Do you have no sense of decorum?!"
"Like I care, you elite stiff," Bakugo snapped, his palms giving off tiny, threatening sparks. "Which middle school are you from anyway, you side-character?"
Iida stiffened further, if that was even possible. "I am from Somei Private Academy. My name is Iida Tenya!"
"Somei? Oh, so you are a damn elite. I'll enjoy crushing you even more then."
Iida gasped, genuinely appalled, but as he turned to continue his lecture, his eyes landed on Izuku standing awkwardly in the doorway. The class's attention shifted. The boy with the dual-colored hair (Todoroki) didn't look up, but the rest of the colourful cast of students stared.
"Ah, you're the one!" Iida said, marching toward Izuku. He stopped and bowed deeply. "I must apologise. I completely misjudged your character during the exam. You perceived the true nature of the practical test, didn't you? I was blind to it!"
"N-no, I didn't actually-" Izuku started, waving his hands frantically, but he was interrupted by a bubbly voice behind him.
"Oh! It's the plain-looking boy!" Uraraka Ochaco beamed, leaning into the room. "I'm so glad you made it! That punch was amazing! I wonder if we're having an orientation today?"
As the three of them chatted, a strange, yellow shape worm appeared on the floor in the hallway behind them. It looked like a giant, discarded sleeping bag.
"If you're here to make friends, you can pack up your things and leave," a gravelly, exhausted voice muttered.
The "sleeping bag" stood up, unzipping to reveal a man who looked as if he had seen enough horror that would put crime detectives to shame. Yes, it was none other than (dadd-ahem) Shota Aizawa who stepped out, his eyes bloodshot and dark circles hanging heavy beneath them.
"It took you eight seconds to be quiet," Aizawa droned, checking a stopwatch. "Time is precious. You kids are not rational enough."
He stood at the podium, looking over the class with a gaze that felt like a death sentence. "I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Now, grab a gym uniform and-"
BAM!
The massive door, suddenly slammed against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.
A single figure stood in the doorway, her right leg still extended in a perfect side-kick position. Her uniform was slightly rumpled, her blazer unbuttoned, her tie loose, and she looked like she'd just sprinted a marathon.
"OI! YOU SPARKY BASTARD!" Riko shouted, her voice echoing through the silent room. "DON'T THINK FOR A SECOND THAT TIE COUNTS! I WANT MY LUNCH MONEY BY THIRD PERIOD, YOU EXPLOSIVE HEDGEHOG!"
The class froze.
Bakugo's head snapped toward the door, his eyes widening before narrowing into slits of pure fury. "Y-YOU CRAZY, FUSE-BOX"
Riko stayed exactly where she was for three long seconds, one leg still held high in the air, her finger pointed accusingly at Bakugo. Then, her eyes slowly drifted to the front of the room.
She saw the twenty students staring at her in shock. Iida, Uraraka, and even the stoic Todoroki looked at her in stunned silence. She saw Izuku hiding his face in his hands.
And then, she saw the man in the black jumpsuit with the messy hair and the "I'm-about-to-expel-you" stare.
Riko's leg slowly, carefully descended until her foot touched the floor. She stood up straight, smoothed out her blazer with one hand, and looked at the clock on the wall. Then, she pulled back her sleeve and stared intensely at her own wristwatch.
"Huh," she said, her voice dropping from a roar to a casual conversational tone. She tapped the glass of her watch and held it to her ear. "That's weird."
"Akabane Riko," Aizawa droned, his voice sounding like sandpaper on glass. "You are exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds late. Care to explain why you felt the need to assault my door?"
Riko looked at Aizawa, then back at her watch, then back at Aizawa. She gave a small, sheepish shrug.
"Well, you see, Sensei... the thing is, I live in a high-rise," she started, her brain working overtime. "And I think the elevation difference between my apartment and the school caused a localized temporal distortion in the gears of my watch. According to which, I'm actually five minutes early."
The classroom remained silent. Mineta whispered, "Is she for real?"
"Temporal distortion," Aizawa repeated flatly.
"Or I forgot to wind it," Riko added quickly, giving him a thumbs-up. "One of the two. My bad, Sensei. Nice sleeping bag, by the way. Very aesthetic. Is it a designer brand?"
Aizawa sighed, a long, weary sound that suggested he was already reconsidering his life choices. "Change into your gym uniforms. Now. If you're the last one to the field, Akabane, you're expelled on the spot."
"Wait, what?!" Riko's eyes went wide. She didn't wait for a second invitation. She snatched a uniform from the pile and bolted past Aizawa. "See you at the finish line, Sparky! Don't trip on, your way!"
"GET BACK HERE!" Bakugo roared, lunging out of his seat.
As the class scrambled to follow, Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looked at the dent Riko had left in the wall and then at the back of his homeroom teacher. He prayed the following days wouldn't be as crazy.
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Author's Basement
.....sup kids, want another chapter?