Work Text:
A Drag Path.
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The halls seemed so oddly quiet. It felt off, not right. Walking into the classroom it was as if he could still hear their laughter. He could still hear Ashido yelling at Mineta, Midoriya rambling off with Ocacho, and Iida in the corner. Bakugou threatening to blow up anyone who bothered him before class started.
Kaminari purposely provoking Bakugou, and Kirishima yelling about how manly this or that is.
It didn’t feel normal, not seeing them here. It was too quiet, and it left an odd weight in his chest, knowing that just moments ago he’d seen them all get handed their diplomas. It didn’t feel real.
He just wandered aimlessly through the desk aisles, fingers running across the desks with a certain unsteadiness he wasn’t known to have. He tugged on the chairs, moving them in ways his class always had.
Bakugou leaning back in his chair even after he’d yelled at him to put the chair on the floor, Jirou always moving her chair over to Yaoyorozu, Ashido pushing her chair in just to randomly break dance in the middle of class, and Aoyama standing on his desk, talking about how he ‘twinkles’.
Todoroki, Asui, Ocacho, and Iida forming their little circle around Midoriya’s desk. Hakagure always ended up with Ojiro and Tokoyami talking about everything under the sun.
Walking back to his own desk, and opening a drawer with a tender hand…and pulling out a small book. He’d kept it hidden from them all these years. Inside, it was full of memories he hadn’t had in himself to get rid of.
Pictures from the sports festival, the concert his class had put on and had been so enthusiastic about, pictures from them planning it all, and pictures of them all huddled up in the dorms.
Pictures from breakfasts inside the dorms-...they’d always call him and beg him to come eat with them, and he never had it in him to deny them sure he gave them shit for it, but he always complied.
Photo album in hand, he walked out of the classroom, hand resting on the door just a moment longer than he had intended. This wasn’t just a class, this was HIS class.
They’d all been through so much together, the USJ, I-Island, Nabu Island, The Humarise incident…Overhaul, the League of Villains, hell....the entire war. And they’d always pull through. They’d always manage.
Walking down the hall, he just couldn’t help but reminisce, and think about all the moments he’d had with them…and walking into the dorm commons. Now completely empty. They’d all moved out a week prior to the graduation ceremony. But it was like he could still see them.
He could see everyone messing around, playing card games that someone would always end up getting exploded over, courtesy of Bakugou. The amount of times he'd had to stop them from sneaking out- The times he’d restocked the food for them during finals.
He felt his eyes welling up with tears.
This was never just a class to him, it was like a family. These were his kids, and he’d trade the world for them if he could.
And he couldn’t wait to see the capable hero’s he knows they will be.