"You're one of All Might's students, right?"
The reporter moved her microphone closer to my face, and I instinctively took a step back. She seemed eager, shuffling forward to fill the gap I'd created. The media had been swarming outside the school for a few days now, but this was the first time they'd attempted to talk to me. Most other days, they flinched back at my glare. This reporter seemed braver than the others.
"How is All Might adjusting to teaching? What do you think of him?"
"I hate him," I replied curtly.
Almost instantaneously I found myself surrounded by ten more reporters as they all pushed microphones at me. Multiple cameras were pointed in my direction and a growl rumbled from the bottom of my throat. Not wanting to deal with their bullshit, I turned and began to walk away.
One reporter made the mistake of grabbing my wrist. On instinct, I snatched their wrist with both of my hands and adjusted my positioning, throwing the individual over my shoulder. The girl cried out in pain when her back hit the ground, and the rest of the reporters quickly shuffled away from me.
"What the hell, kid?" one of the cameramen yelled at me.
"Maybe you shouldn't have grabbed her," a tired voice spoke from behind me.
Aizawa strolled over with his hands in his pockets, stopping at my side. The media members were all quite angry, and the reporter woman I had thrown jumped to her feet and began demanding answers regarding All Might and scolding me for attacking civilians.
"This student has been trained in hand combat for many years," Aizawa explained to the reporter, "When people surprise her, sometimes her instincts take over. It happens with quite a few of the students, not just this one."
"Sir, as an apology, could you please get All Might for us?" she mumbled out, feeling defeated. "Also, you look like a mess. What's your deal?"
"All Might's not on campus today. Now get out of here, you've disturbed my students enough already."
Aizawa made a shooing motion with his hand before turning to walk through the gates, "Izumi, let's go."
The media remained piled outside the gate, yelling out complaints and questions. The tired man ignored them and didn't even react when a loud, violent beep rang out across the front yard. I whipped around to stare at the giant metal walls blocking the gates and raising up from the walls.
"Just so you know," Aizawa stopped walking. "That's what will happen if you try to leave school property without a teacher."
I tightly clenched my fists at his words, but the teacher turned and kept walking. He had never liked me. That's the reason they put me in his homeroom class. From the start, Aizawa had been one of the heroes against my presence at UA. Despite his reserved nature, he wasn't afraid to announce his distrust of me.
The faculty and the police thought that putting me Aizawa would be the safest since he was the most adamant about my being dangerous. The other teachers were more sympathetic to me and wanted to help. If I were to turn against UA High, which was inevitably true since I was never on their side, then Aizawa wouldn't hesitate.
Other teachers may develop an attachment to me. Hell, some of them already had. The number of times Midnight had shown up to visit me in the hospital and bring me get-well-soon gifts made me want to punch her. She had also insisted that once I started going to UA, that she would take me shopping at the mall since I'd never been.
Aizawa hated me and considered my presence a threat. As soon as I was considered to be a villain, the teacher would have no problem fighting me. Why they thought it would be a good idea for me to live with him, I have no idea.
I ended up entering the classroom just after Aizawa and went to take my seat in the back corner. Although there may have been chatter before I arrived, it all seemed to die down once the teacher took his place at the front of the room and the bell rang overhead.
"Decent work on yesterday's combat training, you guys," he congratulated the group. "I saw the video feeds and went over each of your team's results. Bakugou."
He glanced towards Asshole, who glanced up at him with a scoff, "You're talented, so don't sulk like a child about your loss, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever," he looked away.
"And Midoriya," Freckles immediately sat up straight in his seat. "I see that the only way you won the match is by messing up your arm again. Work harder, and don't give me the excuse that you don't have control over your quirk. That line's already getting old. You can't keep breaking your body while training here, but your quirk will be really useful if you can get a handle on it. So show a little urgency, huh?"
"Right!"
He then shifted his gaze across the classroom. The look on his face became more serious as he announced it was time to get down to business. Whatever we were doing, was apparently deciding our future. A shiver ran through the students as they tried to determine what was happening. I didn't really give a fuck.
"You all need to pick a class representative."
It was silent for only a second as everyone processed what had been said. After that, the room was enveloped in chaos. Everyone was jumping to their feet, hands raised and volunteering themselves for the job. What the fuck was a class representative anyway?
I wasn't until Nerd Armor silenced the group, going on some long rant about what a class representative should be. His speech may have been inspiring to the class if he hadn't been standing there with his hand raised the whole time - it was quite obvious he wanted everyone to vote for him.
"Is this really the best idea?" Sparky looked unsure.
"We've only known each other a few days, how do we know who we can trust?" Froggy placed a finger on her cheek, thinking.
Rocky nodded, "Besides, everyone will just vote for themselves."
"Most people will," Nerd Armor agreed. "That means whoever does receive multiple votes must truly be the most suitable person for the job. It's the best way, right sir?"
Nerd Armor turned to Aizawa, who was zipping himself up in his sleeping bag, "Do what you want, just decide before my nap is over."
"Thank you for your trust!"
As Aizawa flopped onto the ground behind his desk, some of the students got to work on creating ballets. Using scissors and blank paper, they cut out little cards and handed one out to each desk. An empty tissue box was used for everyone to place their votes.
As everyone began writing names down on the ballets, I stared at my blank one. I wasn't putting my own name down, that was for sure. I couldn't be bothered with shit like that. Being a class representative sounded like a lot of work, after hearing Nerd Armor's explanation.
The other students didn't seem to even know what it was, they just wanted to do it. With a low growl, I moved my pencil to the paper to write down the nerd's name. It was the first and last time I would probably ever use it - and no fucking way would he ever know who voted for him.
Standing up, I moved to the front of the class with the folded vote and dropped it into the box. After everyone had voted, Stuble woke up from his nap and grudgingly counted the votes in front of the class. He then wrote the results on the board, revealing Princess with 2 votes and Freckles with 3. Great. The class was fucked.
"Okay idiots, who voted for him!?" Asshole jumped to his feet.
An argument broke out between Asshole and Tape. The latter had questioned the blond if he seriously thought anyone would vote for him. Of course, this only proceeded to piss him off further. Rocky had stepped in to try and calm them down, but Asshole had already blown a fuse.
"One vote!" Nerd Armor shot out of his chair, overjoyed.
"Isn't that your own vote?" Princess glanced at him, confused.
"No, which shows that at least one student would have chosen to put their faith in me. Whoever you are, I thank you for your trust."
Rolling my eyes, I pulled my backpack up onto my lap. If he didn't watch it I might just take my vote back. Why the fuck did I vote for him in the first place? I certainly didn't trust him, or even like him. Actually, he would have been a nightmare as the class representative. I guess it was a good thing no one voted for him. Instead, they voted for Freckles - the only worse candidate.
Freckles was announced the class rep, and Princess was the deputy. She looked slightly annoyed at the kid trembling beside her. He was wide-eyed, questioning Stuble if he was sure he'd read the votes correctly. In the end, the class determined that they were happy with the votes, other than Asshole, and the bell rung for lunch.
While the others headed to the cafeteria, I returned outside to the tree I had eaten under yesterday. I was not-so-subtly trailed by Stuble, but he left me alone once I sat down. Opening my bag, I pulled out a book and flipped it open to the page my bookmark was in.
My stomach was starting to hurt from hunger. I hadn't eaten at all yesterday or the day before that. At first, it had been my stubbornness, followed by my inability to eat spicy foods. This morning, Stuble told me he wasn't going to babysit me and I was old enough to prepare my own meals. I was too pissed off to tell him I didn't know how to cook.
My reading was disturbed when a loud alarm began piercing through the air, and a massive crowd came charging through the front gates. Armed with microphones and cameras, the media began searching hovering outside the school doors demanding for answers.
Just as I stood up, realizing the doors were locked and I was now stuck outside with them, I found myself swamped. Some of them recognized me from this morning, demanding to know why I hated All Might and what kind of a teacher he was.
I turned to walk away, hoping that one of the doors around the back of the school would be open. The crowd seemed to shift, and I found myself completely surrounded. Microphones were being pressed against my face and cameras were all turned to me. For each step I moved away, the media shuffled in close around me.
Feeling claustrophobic, my body tensed up as I tried to look over their heads for anything to switch with. But even as I found something, it didn't matter how many times I muttered the word under my breath. My quirk didn't work. I couldn't use it.
My hands immediately went to the coughs around my wrists as I began to grip at them, and the media only fired off more questions at me. One of them knocked a microphone against my sunglasses, and the shades fell from my eyes towards the ground.
The bright lights were blindingly painful, and I immediately reached up to cover my eyes with my hands. Unable to see, I could feel myself getting pushed around and the people moving around me. The metal cuffs seemed to be screeching their presence, and I could feel my stomach growling angrily.
"We want answers, and we want them now!" a feminine voice demanded. Several bodies seemed to move closer to me, knocking off my balance. The ground was hard when I hit it, and the voices only seemed to get louder. I could feel the microphones getting pushed up against my face.
The crowd was too big, and I couldn't see shit. My sunglasses had probably been trampled by now, and the overwhelming sensation in my chest was growing more violent. I had been through tons of shit in my life, but I was always used to dark, quiet spaces with very few people.
This situation was the opposite, to a point where I could barely hear my own thoughts. In the end, I couldn't keep my hands over my eyes, reaching out to try and push the microphones and cameras away. Even though my eyes were closed, the light still hurt, I could still see it a bit through my eyelids.
"Back up!" a voice that could only belong to Present Mic boomed over the crowd, causing the reporters to flinch as they all covered their ears. I could still feel them crowded around me, but they shuffled away after a few seconds.
I flinched when a deep voice called out from right beside me, "She's not wearing her sunglasses."
"Aizawa, they're over here! But looks like they got trampled."
I couldn't see shit. From words, I'd managed to gather that Stuble was the one directly beside me, and Screecher was there, but a bit further away. He had found my apparently now broken sunglasses, meaning I was just going to be fucking blind for a bit.
My body tensed up when something began to cover my eyes, "It's just my scarf." The bright lights were blocked out as he wrapped it around my head. The media was still yelling and making loud noises, but Screecher's voice was able to speak over them all as he pulled them away from me and directed the attention to himself.
A hand was placed on each of my shoulds and I was guided to my feet. Normally I wasn't the type to accept help, but there wasn't really any other way for me to get inside. Sirens echoed in the distance, as the police got closer to the school.
Tripping over something, my knees bent forward and my body hit the ground. There was a loud sigh as Stuble pulled me back up. There was stumbling and some words from Screecher who had apparently been beside us.
Zoned out from the noises, and my growling stomach, I didn't protest at the teachers grabbing at me. Not knowing what was happening, my feet were lifted from the floor and my legs wrapped around something - someone. My arms were pulled forward, probably over the person's shoulders, and their rocking motions informed me that we were moving.
"I'll take her inside," Stuble's voice spoke from right beside my ear, meaning Aizawa was carrying me. "You handle the press."
"You got it!" Screecher did what he did best.
Considering the yelling media and the sirens were now muffled, I guessed we were now inside. The chattering students seemed to be in a panic, although teachers were now stepping up to assure everything was fine. This quieted the crowds, leaving everything to be much more peaceful.
"Aizawa, is Izumi okay?"
"I saw her outside surrounded by the media when I looked out the window."
"Why is your scarf around her face? Did she get hurt?"
A couple more questions were fired out, but Stuble shushed them with a grumble. I wasn't sure who was there, but the first two were male and the third was a female. They didn't receive an answer at first but that only left them to ask more questions.
"She's fine, don't worry about her. Her eyes are very sensitive to light. That's why she wears sunglasses. The support class teacher designed them especially for her, but they were broken when the media ambushed her. I put my scarf over her face so she wouldn't be blinded by the light."
There was silence for a few seconds before the female asked, "Is she really that sensitive to light that she needs special sunglasses?"
"Uraraka, that's kind of rude."
"Oh! You're right, Iida. Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Sorry about that! Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Well," Stuble grumbled out. "If you want to be useful, you could help her back to the classroom while I go get her backups."
"Sure," Bubbles giggled. "Deku, Iida, can you carry her?"
"I can fucking walk!" the snarl came from my mouth as soon as my feet touched the floor. There were mumbled acceptances from the trio and I could only assume Stuble had left. Bubbles and Nerd Armor said they were going to guide me before a felt a hand wrap around each of my arms.
There was a gentle pull forwards, and my feet took baby steps. Their pace was immediately slowed down to match mine, and we inched our way through the school. I didn't know them very well and therefore didn't have much trust in them.
There still seemed to be a lot of students in the halls, considering how loud it was. Nerd Armor was yelling out to clear a path, whilst Bubbles was thanking those that moved. Freckles seemed to be doing both at once, but much more quietly and timidly, from ahead.
"There's the classroom!" Bubbles lurched forward, pulling me with her.
My legs stumbled forward and immediately a pair of arms tried to catch me from the front whilst another grabbed me from the back. After steadying myself, I thrashed out my limbs angrily to throw them off, not knowing who had gotten so close to me.
"Sorry, Izumi. Nice catch, Deku! You too, Iida."
"Don't touch me," I hissed, although unsure of where everyone I was talking to was.
"We're almost there," Nerd Armor promised. "Just another moment."
A hand was placed on my back, gently pushing me forward. Another hand took my wrist from ahead, guiding me in the right direction. There was the sound of a door opening and the familiar voices of Class 1-A filled my ears.
"Woah, what happened to Izumi?"
"Did the media do something?"
"She got swamped, right?"
The questions were fired out, just as the trio had done to Stuble. Still, they didn't answer right away either. I was pulled a bit further before two hands were placed on my shoulders and I was lowered to sit on the chair behind me. Reaching my hands forward, I found the desk before scooching my chair to a more comfortable position.
"Aizawa-sensei said that Izumi has problems with her eyes, and that's why she wears her sunglasses," Iida's voice explained. "They got knocked off and trampled when the media surrounded her. The scarf is just to block the light since she's extremely sensitive to it. There are no injuries."
The class all let out noises of understanding and the chatter started up once again. A few attempted to speak with me, but from my annoyed growls and the few times I attempted to punch them, they got the picture. The noise suddenly died down after a bit of time had passed, so I assumed Stuble had entered the room.
The scarf around my head was loosened, which confirmed my theory. As he began to unwrap it, I closed my eyes. I could tell when it had been removed since the light was bright even through my eyelids. A pair of glasses was stabbed into my cheek, and I reached up to help guide them over my eyes.
Opening my tired eyes, my vision took a moment to focus before I could see Stuble leaning next to my chair. Seeing I was now looking at him, he stood up and silently returned to the front of the room to start class