Seat #2

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SEAT #2: MINA ASHIDO

Shota Aizawa hadn't had enough coffee that morning.

He had forgotten to set his alarm clock the night before, which caused him to roll out of bed a mere ten minutes before the school bell for homeroom was scheduled to ring. Normally, he wouldn't have considered this a problem -- he had no qualms about showing up late -- but knowing the nature of his first year students, they would hold his action over his head for weeks after the incident.

So, neglecting a shower in favor of a quick hair-brushing that did the job of taming his hair just barely, he sprinted downstairs to start his coffee before it was too late. He popped a cup into the instant maker before dashing back up the stairs to throw on his hero costume and get some eye drops in to start the day. He had changed in record time and barely had time to get back down the stairs only to discover that in starting his coffee pot, he hadn't put either a pot or a mug underneath the spout, and boiling coffee had begun to spill over the counter. He huffed in annoyance before jamming a plain white mug that may have been dirty under the spout to collect what ever was left.

5 minutes.

He wiped down the counter top and floor sloppily, making a mental note to mop after work, and grabbed his sleeping bag and zipping out the door. He lived only a stones throw from UA, so he arrived to class just as the bell was ringing, slowly ambling in as though his morning had not gone completely and utterly crappy.

He had less than a fourth of his normal dose of coffee in his mug.

"Shut up and sit down." He ground out at the children of his class, feeling satisfied when they scrambled back to their seats and sat up pin-straight with their lips tightened.

"Alright, I'm gonna call roll. Aoyama?" The flamboyant boy in the front row screamed something in french -- Aizawa didn't even care what he had said. "Ashido?"

Silence.

"Ashido?" He asked again, his tired bloodshot eyes flickering up from the class roster to scan over the room. In truth, the pink girl's seat was empty, which was very unusual. He sighed, marking an absence on his roster.

Maybe it was the lack of caffeine that was normally drumming through his system at this time, maybe it was because he was still half asleep, maybe it was because he knew he had a mess to clean up at his apartment later; but Shota Aizawa could feel the beginnings of worry pooling in his chest.

"Alright, moving on then." He sighed, wishing the aching feeling would just go away. Whatever was up with his student was their problem, not his.

So why was he still feeling anxious three hours later at lunch time when the girl was yet to show?

"Screw this." He muttered, fishing an applesauce pouch from his sleeping bag and downing it quickly. He was about to crack the top off another one when a frantic knock was heard pounding on the teachers' lounge door.

"Mr. Aizawa?" It was Yaoyorozu. "MR. Aizawa, may I come in?"

'Course she asks.

"Yes, come in." He grumbled, resuming the opening of his applesauce.

The dark haired girl came running in, Uraraka and Asui hot on her heels. "Mr. Aizawa, we found Ashido passed out on the floor in the girls' locker room! Hagakure and Jiro are with her right now, and it doesn't look like she's injured, but she's unresponsive." The girl's voice was strong and steady, but Aizawa saw the panic hidden behind her dark eyes.

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