Someone in the U.A. faculty thought school dormitories were a good idea, and Ojiro was determined to find out who it was.
Shoving a bunch of teenagers into a high school dorm may have been a good plan from a statistical point of view, but he couldn’t help but think the whole thing was going to end in disaster.
He stood in front of the brand new and sparkling building with a sense of dread settling into the pit of his stomach as his classmates fell in beside him, yawning and rubbing at their eyes and looking like they rarely woke up this early on the weekend. He smiled a little as his tail flicked in amusement, having been awake for quite some time himself. Perks of being an early riser included generally being the most alert person in the room, or in the case, in the clearing outside of their dorm.
There was some chattering from among the group; mostly quiet good mornings and nervous exclamations. With all that had happened it was no surprise. It wasn’t every day the symbol of peace retired. It wasn’t every day your classmate and friend-slash-resident-angry-boy was abducted from a school trip and then rescued by a bunch of high school freshmen. It wasn’t every day that your teacher finally snapped and expelled the one student they’d all been praying for the departure of. And with that, it wasn’t every day a student was transferred over from general studies, just in time to be told he had to move out and come live with the weirdos in the hero department.
Ojiro shot a wary glance in the guy’s direction. He was quiet, hadn’t spoken to anyone yet, and looked like he needed a really long nap. Ojiro didn’t want to feel uneasy, but being brainwashed on national television did interesting things to your self-preservation instincts. He shook his head a little and made his was over to the new student, stopping to stand next to him. With a little nod, he spoke, “Shinsou Hitoshi, right?” He asked, the name popping up from who knows where. The boy’s tired eyes slid over to meet Ojiro’s small but very much awake ones. He nodded in response. So, the guy didn’t like to talk. Ojiro supposed that if he’d been told all his life that his speaking did nothing but hurt people, he might be quiet, too. He took a deep breath and tried to let go of the residual anger from the sports festival. “Ojiro Mashirao. Nice to meet you.” The new student’s eyes slid back to where they’d been, dutifully studying his shoelaces. Ojiro frowned, having expected at least a subtle response in return. A small bubble of anger was rising in him, but he pushed it back down and nodded at the front of the building. “Think this is gonna turn out well?” The snicker he got as a response was surprising, and answer enough, but much to Ojiro’s astonishment, Shinsou took his chance to speak.
“Bunch of teens with hero complexes and just enough free time to make themselves a collective pain in the ass? Yeah right.” He chuckled again, and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes not leaving their gaze at his feet.
Even if he’d never been brainwashed into helping his new classmate win a place in the sports festival’s upper echelon, Ojiro was pretty sure he wouldn’t like Shinsou. He took a few side steps away from him under the pretense of looking at the front of the new dorm building at a different angle.
The quiet mumblings from his classmates had all but died down as they all waited for…Something. Turned out that something was their professor slinking his way to the front of the group to chew out those who’d broken the rules. Ojiro’s mind was elsewhere as Aizawa went on to explain the basics of the housing setup; he was too busy thinking about how he was going to spend the next few years in a class with a guy who clearly hated his guts, but more importantly, how he was going to survive the next few days adjusting to life in a dorm.
With their teacher done with his explanation and the students free to head to their rooms, Ojiro soon found out the answer to his more pressing question.
It started out with the room tours. Well actually it started out with the collective groaning from those who lived on the upper floors of the dorm. And the subsequent hushing by Bakugou, only Bakugou’s version of hushing was dangerously close to shut-your-mouth-or -I’ll-shut-it-for-you. So dangerously close that that was a verbatim quote. Yet they managed to make it through a full day of moving in without anyone being forcibly silenced by the explosive boy. To no one’s particular disappointment, he turned in before everyone else headed down to the common area. And then the room tours began.
It was mostly a blur for Ojiro after his own room was found to be exceptionally ordinary. He wanted to argue his point with having such a bare room; there was no way in hell this living arrangement was going to work out, no point in getting comfortable. But no one was in the mood for serious thoughts like that, except perhaps Shinsou, who seemed to be a very serious guy. Lighthearted enough to laugh under his breath, but not enough to let anyone see the inside of his room. Or enough to maintain interest in the whole ordeal past the second floor. With the given explanation that he was too tired to keep going, he shut himself in his room. Something about the dark circles under his eyes made Ojiro doubtful that his intended nighttime activity was sleeping, but he wasn’t going to press him.
And then they were done and someone was handing him one last slice of cake and someone was saying they should get to sleep before it got too late because even with everything that had happened there were classes in the morning. Ojiro didn’t put too much thought into his nighttime routine, operating on autopilot as he brushed his teeth changed into his pajamas.
Laying on his stomach and hugging his pillow up under his chin, he finally slowed down enough to think. He was tired, so the thinking didn’t last too long, but he did allow himself a smile. Everything might be in chaos and he might be in a class with someone who hated him and he might be about to become part of the worst living arrangement Japan had ever seen, but it was going to be exciting. Something told him that, at least.
There was a lot to learn about his classmates now that they were all living together, some more than others, and that was an exciting prospect. But exciting prospects got to be explored in the morning, not at ungodly hours of the night.
Ojiro shut his eyes on his first night in his new home.
He couldn’t have imagined the type of exciting prospects that awaited him. In some ways, living with a class full of teenagers was just as terrifying as facing a villain head on.