One Shot ~

bnha

Word count: 1.4k
Warning: none

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"Can you guys just shut up for one second?" my voice snapped through their noise like a whip. I shot each one of them a sharp glare, my gaze like a knife to their throats.

"Fuck..." I kissed my teeth.
"Y'all giving me a headache..." a frustrated sigh left my mouth, my foot continuously tapping the ground.

They all fell silent after the sudden snap, even Bakugo, who rarely listens to people, kept his mouth quiet. The suffocating silence was broken by the soft, tinny elevator music.

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to steady myself. My patience was seemingly thin, exhausted from the intense training session we just completed that had drained every ounce of energy from my body. Being cramped in an elevator with the three boys, whose personalities clash like fire, water, and earth, is definitely not what I am in need of right now.

"Sorry..." Izuku murmured behind me, his voice barely audible.

I opened my eyes and turned my attention to them. Izuku stared at me sympathetically; his hand never stopped fidgeting. Todoroki shifted slightly, keeping his gaze lowered on the ground. "Apologies," his voice monotone, a surprising hint of sincerity.
Bakugo kept his hands in his pockets and avoided my gaze, probably mumbling some dumb shit under his breath.

'Ding.'

We arrive at our destined floor, the elevator doors open. "Whatever," I breathe out, exiting the cramped space.

I slowly walk through the hallway of Endeavor's agency, the echoed footsteps signaling me that the others were following me.
Furthermore, I pushed the door open to the conference room, where we are to meet up to discuss our training progress.

Greeted with a massive screen glowing ominously on the far wall. I took a seat near the center of the table, the others hesitantly sat next to me, Todoroki on my left, his calm presence refreshing after the tension in the elevator, Izuku on my right with his notebook out and ready to scribble, and Bakugo slouched into his seat across from me, the expression on his face saying 'fuck off' loud and clear to anyone who dared to say something.

The heavy tension is visible to other bystanders, like an unwelcome guest.

Endeavor enters the room a moment later. "Alright, children," he began, his tone sharp.
"We're going to go over today's training session. Pay close attention to your performance footage. I want you to identify at least three areas for improvement."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. After hours of laborious training, the last thing I wanted was to sit through footage of every mistake I'd already replayed in my head a hundred times. But Endeavor didn't care about what we wanted-only what we needed to improve.

The screen started displaying our recent exercise. Izuku glided through our training field, dodging attacks, while Bakugo blasted his way through, activating most of the traps and disabling us on his way. Todoroki blocked the explosion thanks to his ice abilities.

Then my own performance came up. I watched myself make mistakes and waste precious time, which only fueled my aggravation and frustration. The unwanted comments of Endeavor not assisting.

"You were too slow there," he let out. "And in lack of critical thinking, we cannot afford such disheveled actions. The time wasted would have been major and could cost a civilian their life in a real situation," he addressed.

The old man does nothing but comment on everything I do, no matter how hard I try, to the point I don't sleep at night to study for the next day. Will he ever be satisfied with what I have to give?