AM N. NOT.šš»(ļæ£ć¼ļæ£)
Like the other teachers of U.A., Mei Terumi was also busy.
She served as a combat teacher for the second-year classes, which meant her schedule was far tighter than most. Right now she was handling the final class of the day: Class S of the second years.
Mei sat lazily in the teacher's chair on the stage at the front of the large, opera-style lecture classroom. The room itself was shaped like a theater, rows of seats descending toward the stage.
Fortunately, today's activities were not hectic.
The class was simply recording the grades they had earned during the recent survival examination.
So Mei had decided to let her assistant teacher handle the work.
Her mind was elsewhere.
She was thinking about her husband.
More specifically, she was thinking about when he was finally going to prepare their house. She had asked Nemuri about it earlier, but Nemuri had looked just as worried as she was.
Nemuri had only said one thing.
"It's his gloomy state again."
Mei, of course, hadn't understood a single thing that meant.
Her thoughts were suddenly cut off.
Because a curious girl floating in the air started firing questions at her all at once.
"Heyā¦ Mei-sensei, where are the first years' dorms? How many staff are there? How many classes were made? Oh, are you perhaps asleep? What about that test? Oh, I forgotāwhere is he? Did he also pass? Do you have his number, Mei-sensei? When will the first classes start? Andā"
"Huuuā¦"
Many students were already accustomed to hearing Nejire talk like this.
Her questions always came out in a chaotic stream.
But those who didn't understand what she was talking about became curious when she suddenly asked about someone's number.
Then a tall man suddenly stood up.
"Nejire, that was some multitasking ability you've got there! Your Quirk is definitely surging!"
He struck a dramatic pose.
And waited for a reaction.
There was only silence.
The boy beside him lowered his head onto the desk.
"How embarrassingā¦"
The standing man frowned.
"What? You didn't get it? It's because her Quirk is Surge, and her questions were also surging."
The room became even quieter.
They couldn't believe the man had just explained his own joke.
From the back of the classroom, Black Maria spoke lazily.
"That's not a good joke, Mirio-chan."
"Whaaaat?!" Mirio shouted, mouth wide open.
The man was Mirio Togata.
Authority: Genetics
Category: Quirk
Epithet: Permeation
Mirio was a tall young man, about 181 cm (around 5'11"), with an exceptionally muscular and athletic physique.
His face had a simple, almost cartoon-like style. Small blue oval eyes with no visible sclera, a rounded nose, and a bright, optimistic smile that rarely disappeared.
His blond hair formed a distinctive cowlick on top while the sides were swept back.
Scars lined his lower arms, proof of the brutal training he constantly pushed himself through.
He wore the standard U.A. male uniform but usually skipped the blazer. Around his waist sat his signature "jaws" belt buckle.
Beside him, still slouching with his head lowered onto the table, sat his friend.
"Hey, Mirioā¦ sit down. You're attracting attentionā¦"
That was Tamaki Amajiki.
Authority: Genetics
Category: Quirk
Epithet: Manifest
Tamaki stood around 177 cm, though he often looked shorter because of his constant slouch.
His build was lean and athletic but hidden beneath loose clothing.
He had pale skin and a permanently anxious expression. His dark, narrow eyes often hid behind messy indigo hair that stuck out in every direction.
Long bangs hung over his face like a curtain whenever he felt socially overwhelmed.
His most distinctive feature was his pointed, elf-like ears.
"Oh, cute as always," Black Maria said teasingly.
Tamaki visibly shivered.
Goosebumps ran along his arms.
He refused to even look at her.
"Ignore the spiderā¦ ignore the spiderā¦" he whispered to himself.
Mirio slowly sat back down in his seat, resting his chin on his hand, clearly still trying to understand why no one laughed at his joke.
From the back row, another woman spoke.
"Flirting again, Spidey? Always looking for a man to beat up. That's a bad habit. "You're likely to become a masochist one day. Actually, never mindāit looks like you're already there."
Another girl chimed in casually while flipping through a magazine filled with bikini models.
"What's the problem as long as she's a sexy chick?"
Everyone stared at her.
No one understood her taste.
Then a woman at the front joined the conversation.
"Yup. Maria, you'll never find a real man with that sadistic personality."
The woman had long orange hair.
It was Rangiku.
Black Maria simply smiled.
"Oh, sorry to disappoint youā¦ but I'm not single anymore."
The entire class froze.
Everything stopped.
"What?!"
Students who didn't know what was happening immediately turned toward her.
From a corner seat, Monet calmly closed her book.
"Oh please. Stop with your delusions. He would choose me over you."
Several students turned their heads toward her.
Another voice spoke up.
A calm, stoic tone.
"They're just women who haven't touched him yet."
It was Konan.
The entire room stared at her.
Their jaws dropped.
"What?! Even her?!"
"Hey, enough with that topic," Soi Fon said sharply. "Didn't you hear and see it ? he's my sister's man."
Now everyone turned toward her.
And thenā
BANG
A loud slam echoed from the front of the room.
All heads snapped forward.
Mei had slammed her hand onto the desk.
A vein bulged on her forehead.
Her fist clenched tightly.
"Did I give you permission," she said coldly, "to covet my husband right in front of me?"
Several students slapped their hands over their faces.
Their teacher was arguing with her own students over a man.
"Waitā¦ you have a husband?" some of the students asked in confusion.
"Tsk."
Others simply scoffed at Mei.
The discussion exploded again.
Students whispered, argued, questioned, and speculated about what was happening.
Then the assistant teacher suddenly spoke from the side.
"Hey. We're not finished recording your grades yet. Settle down, or I'll mark every one of you with a 65."
Silence fell instantly.
No one wanted remedial classes.
Not even Class S.
!!ć½(ļ¾Š“ļ¾ć½)(ļ¾ļ¾Š“ļ¾)ļ¾!!
AM N. NOT.