I entered the classroom with my headphones screwed into my ears, my helmet under my elbow, and my hands in my pockets. Almost everyone was there, except for the teacher and a few uninteresting latecomers. I moved between the rows without looking at anyone, feeling that even an inadvertent glance would be like opening the door to discussion. They all seemed to be tripping over themselves, bouncing from one foot to the other, hesitant to approach me, but dying to - you could see it in their tightened faces and nervous glances.

It had started in the group chat, where, for some reason, everyone had started identifying me to ask my opinion on X or Y stupid and pointless thing. I'd just opened their messages without bothering to reply, hoping to reverse the trend by playing the ice queen, but I hadn't counted on their shonenesque spirit, as it only made them intensify their efforts to get me to talk.

I should have known better than to push them away; they'd already shown their resilience in the anime, managing to turn a stalker (who even went so far as to drive a teenager to suicide) into a more or less normal student and one of the manga's most likeable characters.

Let's face it, if I hadn't been kind of fated to reincarnate as Shoto, I would have probably picked Bakugo - and not because of his Quirk.

Still, for their sake, I hoped they'd stop trying to talk to me; unlike the original Shoto, I had violent tendencies when I got too irritated. (My old man tried to get me to work on that, but I had a little trouble applying the psychologist's advice.

Why do breathing exercises when I could just blow a skull off with a golf club?)

I sat down and unpacked without further ado, checking the time on my cell phone.

Only 30 seconds and-

“Todoroki-san !”

Inaza's nasal voice broke through the barrier of Russian rap music blaring in my ears. I fluttered my eyelids at my kit, forcing myself to pull out each of my instruments - even the ones I wouldn't use - with deliberate slowness.

Pen, eraser, glue, scissors, calcul-

Inaza's hand crushed my pencil case and what looked like my fingers.

My eyes wandered over the thin, long, repulsive fingers as blood pounded in my temples. My nostrils flared as I clenched and unclenched my fist in my pocket.

It's okay, Shoto, it's okay. We're patient people, so we'll wait until the next practical lesson to break his fingers one by one and make it look like an accident.

I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders.

A surge of pride came over me for not jumping down his throat.

The old man will be proud of me when I tell him.

“I wanted to thank you on behalf of the entire class for slowing down the bird-faced villain long enough for All Might and the other heroes to come to our rescue”

To my surprise, he bent ninety degrees to show his gratitude.

There was a wave of "Thank you, Todoroki-san" and "You're a real hero" before the rest of the students followed in this impromptu salute.

A smug - if surprised - smile appeared on my face.

They should bow to me more often, these fools.

The seconds ticked by and I could see Inaza starting to waddle, wondering when

I'd come up with the famous "Don't give me so much credit, I'm just a humble, pure-hearted student like you !

Too bad for him, I was beginning to enjoy seeing them so respectful in my presence.

Should I ask them to kneel down ?

“What's going on here?" a loud and (oh surprise) angry voice interrupted.

“Kacchan" I said, turning to face the newcomer. “You see, the other students in the class were thanking me for my essential contribution during the incident at the USJ. They kept saying that without me, the situation would have been critical and Aizawa-sensei wouldn't have made it out alive”

“That's not exactly what-”

“On the other hand, I didn't hear anyone mention your name. Maybe that's because you weren't much use to anyone, except for the fact that you missed being chopped off ?”

His face turned red as his eyes screamed bloody murder.

His explosions crackled so intensely in his hands that smoke billowed from them, swirling in gray curls down his arms and rolling behind his shoulders.

There was something so incredibly funny about watching him lash out.

He stepped forward menacingly as I watched, arms crossed over my chest.

Inaza was on the other side of the table, watching the exchange with disapproval.

“You shouldn't-”

Bakugo reached out in his direction and used his Quirk.

It was a tiny explosion, not enough to kill a cat, but enough to scorch his eyebrows. Still, there were murmurs of shock from the other students: Inaza, far from letting go, grabbed Bakugo's wrist, forcing him to stretch his palm toward the ceiling. A gust of wind blew up and cleared the smoke from his intact face.

Inaza and Bakugo now stared at each other, the former with a warning look in his eyes and the latter with raised eyebrows, not the least bit impressed.

“If this isn't a turn of events I hadn't expected," I hissed approvingly.

50 to 1 Inaza kicks his ass.

“Shouldn't you try to stop him ? You're kind of the reason they got to this point,"

Kirishima scolded me in a low voice.

I gave him a doubtful look, reluctant to comply with his request.

He didn't look at me, his eyes on the two teenagers, and added:

“Iida said he was going to get the teachers. This could end badly”

I turned my attention back to the boy, who was indeed hurrying toward the door.

Everything to spoil my fun, huh ?

I sighed loudly and stood up, causing my chair to creak against the floor. It fell backwards, the sound echoing louder than it should have in the silent room. Iida stopped in the doorway. Inaza shot me a sideways glance, but Bakugo hadn't even flinched.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I walked around the table, stopping between the two boys before wrapping my arms around their shoulders, deliberately using my chakra to apply pressure and force them down.

I met each student's eyes briefly, pausing on the mutant for a moment when I saw his ear twitch in my direction.

I guess I like to inspire fear as much as respect.

“Do you know what happens to two students who fight on school grounds and outside of the allotted training time ?”

Bakugo, snarling like an animal, froze.

“They're expelled, plain and simple”

Totally made up, of course, but would they really go and read the rules to see if it was true ?

I released the boys.

“So I suggest we all calm down” (this time I gave Iida a hard look) “and start the lesson, because the teacher has just arrived”

And indeed, Cementos was standing in the doorway, a pile of notebooks under his arm and his impassive eyes studying me intensely.

At least I thought it was intense - it's hard to describe the expression of someone who looks like a stone.

Bakugo's eyes darted back and forth between Cementos, Inaza and me before he decided to put his hands in his pockets and shuffle over to his desk - right next to mine.

Inaza watched him before taking my hand between his and shaking them gratefully.

“Thank you for sorting things out, Todoroki-san !”

“Yeah yeah," I said and took of my hands of his. “Class is about to start, go to your seat”

“Oh !”

He walked away (after giving me one last smile) as I wiped my hand on the bottom of my uniform.

Poor people already disgusted me, but if they started touching me without my consent, we'd be in trouble.

The teacher opened his textbook and continued the lesson.

I turned to Bakugo, who was concentrating on the screen, pencil in hand.

Sensing my persistent gaze, he reluctantly turned to me.

“What do you want ?”

Bakugo was entertaining, but we weren't friends: if I continued in this vein (that is,of his daily harassment), he would end up hating me (much to my dismay, since I found him excessively funny).

I had to make amends by showing him that I wasn't really making fun of him.

“No hard feelings ?”

He gave me a sideways glance.

“Fuck you" he murmured in a low voice as the professor's back was turned.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guy with the mutation's Quirk tilter.

A small smile appeared on my lips as Bakugo went back to his English exercises.

It may take more than a few fake excuses to get this one wrapped around my pinkie.

*

Aizawa returned two days after the USJ incident.

He wasn't mummified, but it was close.

I even wondered if he wasn't exaggerating his injuries just to get more days off.

Then came the fateful revelation:

“The Yuei Championship is two weeks away. Get ready, the eyes of the world will be on you”

The second part of his sentence was drowned out by the commotion in the classroom.

Whether he was in a good mood - or just not in the mood to do his job - Aizawa didn't say another word and continued to sip his fruit punch, wrapped up in his wheelchair under half a dozen blankets.

This guy really is a drama queen.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, with the 1-A students more animated than usual (which I didn't think was possible). All the discussions were about the championship, the possible events, and how everyone would practice.

They were so excited that no one could pay attention in class: the teachers, in a rare gesture of kindness, let it flow.

The days that followed were so deadly boring - championship, championship, championship: that was the only word on everyone's lips - that I almost felt like shooting myself.

Please kill me.

It had become as boring as a lambda fanfiction, and I wanted to shoot myself just imagining the championship arc as a near carbon copy of the original.

I couldn't bear to sit through a rerun of events I already knew, which would give me nothing but the desire to die on the spot, so bored would I be.

To preserve my sanity, I had to - once again, and not unwillingly - fuck the canon.

The question was how to get there.

What if I broke Bakugo's leg ? No, without him, the quality of my opponents would drop by 70%. Humiliate Midorya in public, perhaps ?

I couldn't keep throwing myself at deku when I couldn't find a solution to my problems. His time would come, but it wasn't yet.

Changing the trials would certainly make the whole thing more interesting.

A good idea, but wouldn't the students behave the same way in general ? As much as I hated to say it, I knew that Izuku had plot armor - how else to explain his 'immortality' Quirk, which appeared at the most opportune moment of his life?

So he would inevitably make it to the final round of the championship, and in a more dramatic way than in the canon.

Bakugo being the nervous, weirdass, determined teenager that he was, was bound to find a way to the podium. The others weren't worthy of my interest, except for Inaza or Monoma - and while both will be able to make ripples, it will never be enough for my taste.

What I needed was a way to get all the students to act more violently and unpredictably than usual. I needed to inspire them - both the technical and the heroic students - to outdo themselves, to snatch victory from my hands.

Victory had to be worth more than the ephemeral glory of a high school tournament won against other teenagers: apart from being recognized, what drove people to excel in everyday life was - and still is - the desire to win.

I had a flash of genius.

It was such a surprising and yet obvious idea that I froze for a moment.

Can I really implement this idea ?

I stood up mechanically and walked to the front of Iida's desk. I held out my hand as he turned his astonished head to me.

“Todoroki-san ? Do you need something ?”

Behind him stood Uraraka and Izuku, the former staring at me in confusion and the latter shrinking at the sight of me.

“I need your copy of the school's rules”

Iida's face lit up with joy as he rummaged through his bag to find it for me.

Asking him was a bit of a gamble, since I wasn't sure if he was a big enough sucker to really carry a copy of the rules with him everywhere and all the time, but I was glad to see that he could still be counted on for his one-dimensional anime personality.

I took the thick volume, opened it to the table of contents, and started flipping through the pages to the one that interested me.

“Are you looking for something in particular, Todoroki-san?" Ochaco asked.

“Hmm” I mumbled distractedly as I devoured the contents of the text.

“It's excellently written, and by headmaster Nezu himself”

This remark made me look up at the boy for a moment.

Really ? That will only make it more fun...

“Some sections are-”

“I'm done" I said, closing the book abruptly.

I'd found what I needed: no one could punish me or stop my shenanigans once they started, because, as the saying goes, 'everything that's not forbidden is allowed'.

Now all I have to do is call the old hag.

“Oh, well. I hope you found what you were looking for," Iida breathed, almost euphoric to see one of his comrades 'on the right path'.

“Even better," I replied as I returned to my desk, struggling to contain the excitement coursing through my entire being.

It can be done: not even the genius Nezu had thought of such a possibility.

Briefly, I met Aizawa's gaze, who, despite his appearance of a wounded man about to die, gave me a warning look.

That's all he ever did anyway: worry me about things I hadn't (yet) done by making me think he knew what I was up to.

I'd been relatively quiet since the beginning of the year, and I found it almost

almost insulting that he would be so suspicious of me because me and his nephew had made some inappropriate, tasteless jokes in middle school.

In reality, he didn't know anything, and he wouldn't know anything until I carried out my plan: after that, any attempt to stop me would be futile, as there would be TV stations and an audience.

Without taking my eyes off Aizawa, I sat down again and gave him my most arrogant smile, my eyes looking down at him mockingly.

You can't even conceive what's going to fall on your head.

Now I was excited too, but for a completely different reason: I had to contact granny Todoroki and convince her to fuel my plan. Considering the time difference between Japan and Italy, the most reasonable time for me to contact her was at 6 p.m. - the end of classes.

The afternoon passed like a foggy dream: it would have been impossible for me to remember anything about it, as distracted as I was.

With each passing minute, my eyes automatically went to the clock, hoping that time would pass more quickly.

It was new for me to be so excited that I couldn't calm the tremors that ran through my left hand, making me frantically stretch and bend my fingers. I'd never had to wait for anything in my two lifetimes, so this new experience forced me to be patient when I'd always preferred action. I wasn't sure I liked it.

And - finally - the last class' bell rang.

It took me only about ten seconds to pick up my things, stuff them into my bag, swing my backpack over my back, and grab my helmet.

I saw Inaza approaching me out of the corner of my eye and decided to go around him by circling my desk, making the exceptional decision to leave through the main door instead of the side one.

“Hey, Todor...”

His voice died in his throat.

I stupidly thought that he had finally realized that I didn't give a damn about him and had decided to leave me alone. I realized this was not the case when I reached the front door of the classroom. I stepped aside, right in front of the mass of students that prevented us from getting out.

There was no more noise in 1-A.

Everyone was quiet and - I could tell - nervous.

My eyes met Hitoshi Shinso's.

*

Author's note :

If you like the story it would be nice of you to leave a review.

215 power stones = bonus chapter on sunday

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See you in the next update everyone !