Chapter 43: The Normalcy of the Abnormal
[A/N: My bad on Aizawa's personality last time! My brain was so fried from the JoJo references and Minecraft horror that I think I accidentally gave him a personality transplant. I've tried to fix his "logic" in this chapter to make him feel more like the canon Eraserhead we all know and love. Enjoy!]
[Shota Aizawa POV]
I walked down the hallway toward the faculty wing, my capture weapon heavy around my neck and my soul feeling like it had been through a car wash—one that used glitter instead of soap.
I reached for my clipboard to look over the Quirk Apprehension scores one last time, but as I pulled it out, my hand met something… fluffy. I looked down. My clipboard was gone. In its place, I was holding a very confused, very fat pigeon wearing a tiny yellow vest that said 'STAFF.'
Attached to the pigeon's leg was a sticky note in Sunny Midoriya's handwriting: "Don't forget to feed the data, Teach! [HONK]"
I stopped dead in my tracks. My eyes twitched. I looked back toward the field, realizing that the "test results" I thought I had filed were actually just a series of flip-book animations of Shikanoko Noko eating my syllabus.
They had bamboozled me. Again.
I couldn't even go back and lecture them. If I opened my mouth to expel them right now, I was 90% sure a bouquet of flowers or a literal 'CENSORED' bar would pop out of my throat. Sunny and that deer-girl had effectively neutralized my ability to be a hard-ass.
I sighed—the kind of sigh that usually precedes a career change—and pushed open the door to the Principal's office.
"I'm retiring," I said, not even looking up. "I'm going to find a mountain. I'm going to live with goats. Goats don't have frame rates."
"Now, now, Shota," Nezu's voice chirped. He was sitting behind his desk, surrounded by twelve different monitors showing the chaos of the afternoon. "Have some coffee. The 'Showrunner' brewed it himself before he left."
I sat down and took a sip of the coffee. It was perfect. Dark, rich, and somehow tasted like a peaceful nap. My headache receded by exactly three percent.
"He's an anomaly," I muttered, staring at the screen where Sunny was currently moonwalking out of the school gates with a girl who had antlers. "And the deer. Where did she even come from? She isn't on the original registry."
"The 'Script' provides, Shota!" Nezu laughed, his paws flying across his keyboard. He pulled up a file—a new teaching contract. "But I agree. Class 1-A is… unique. They require a specific kind of guidance. Someone who has dealt with this 'Calamity' before."
I squinted at the screen. I recognized that name. "Ms. Hina? The kindergarten teacher?"
"She's the only person in Japan with 'Chaos-Induced Immunity' and a high enough therapy bill to be fearless," Nezu said, his eyes glinting. "She'll be joining us to help manage the 'extra-curricular' logic of your class. Think of it as… remedial reality."
I leaned back, closing my eyes. God help us all.
[Inko Midoriya POV]
The kitchen was a whirlwind of steam, giggles, and the rhythmic thump-thump of a tail—or maybe that was just the sentient rug Sunny had brought home last week.
"Careful, Eri-chan! The carrots need to be sliced, not turned into origami!" I laughed, catching a flying piece of ginger with my Quirk.
"I'm doing it, Ms. Inko!" Eri shouted, her face red with determination. She was wielding her Reality Crayon like a professional chef's knife. Every time she drew a vegetable in the air, a perfectly seasoned side dish manifested on the table. "Sunny-nii said a Hero's stomach is his most important 'babie'!"
"He's not wrong," I smiled, stirring a pot of katsudon that was large enough to feed a small army.
The front door burst open—literally. It didn't swing; it just turned into confetti and then reformed behind the boys.
"HONEY, I'M HOME!" Sunny's voice boomed, sounding like he was speaking through a 1940s radio.
Izuku stumbled in behind him, looking exhausted but wearing a smile that could light up the city. Behind them, Toga was already raiding the fridge for juice.
"We survived!" Izuku cheered, dropping his yellow backpack. "Mom, I actually did it. I'm… I'm a UA student."
"And I'm 'Unscorable'!" Sunny added, scooping Eri up and spinning her around until she was giggling uncontrollably. "Which is basically 'S-Rank' for people who don't like math!"
We sat down to a feast that defied the laws of nutrition and physics. Between Eri's marshmallow-density potatoes and my katsudon, the room felt full. For a moment, the world of heroes and villains felt a million miles away. We were just a family, even if half of us were technically narrative hazards.
[Izuku Midoriya POV]
I stood at the gates of UA the next morning, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I looked up at the massive glass 'H' of the main building. It felt different today. Yesterday was a dream, a blur of robots and sand-pits. But today? Today it was real. This was the starting line. This was the place where the greatest heroes in history were forged.
I felt a hand on my shoulder—a white-gloved hand that squeaked when it touched my blazer.
"Don't get too deep in the monologue, Izu-chan," Sunny chirped, leaning against the literal air next to me. He was wearing his UA uniform, but he'd somehow edited the tie to look like a tiny, spinning propeller. "We've got a schedule to break!"
"I'm just… thinking," I said, looking at him and Toga. Toga was busy braiding her hair into even more complex buns, looking completely at home. "We're really here."
'This is the story,' I thought to myself, the narrator-voice in my head taking over for a second, 'of how we became the greatest heroes. Or at least, how we became the reason the school had to triple its insurance premiums.'
"Come on, nerd!" Toga laughed, grabbing my arm. "If we're late, Sunny says the floor turns into lava. And I didn't wear my lava-boots today!"
We sprinted toward Class 1-A, the future stretching out before us like a blank page waiting for Sunny's crayon.
[Lunch Rush POV]
I am a professional. I have fed thousands of students. I have cooked in war zones and disaster sites. I understand the kitchen.
I pushed open the doors to the UA Cafeteria, ready to begin the morning prep for 1,000 servings of white rice and miso. I reached for the vegetable bin.
I stopped.
My kitchen was gone. In its place was a forest.
Not a real forest—a forest made of giant, orange carrots the size of redwoods. And the floor… the floor wasn't linoleum anymore. It was a sea of compressed deer crackers, millions of them, crunching under my boots.
A single deer—a small, brown doe with googly eyes—sat on my stove, wearing a chef's hat. It offered me a cracker.
"...I'm going to need a bigger spatula," I whispered.
[Izuku Midoriya POV]
The first few classes were normal—well, 'UA Normal.' Present Mic's English class was loud, and Cementoss's Modern Lit was surprisingly relaxing. But everyone was waiting for the afternoon.
Foundational Hero Studies.
The classroom door was silent. Then, the handle turned.
"I AM…"
The voice boomed through the walls, vibrating the very pens on our desks.
"...COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!"
All Might burst into the room, leaning forward in a pose that was so 'Silver Age' it practically had its own theme music. He wasn't walking; he was practically vibrating with heroic energy, his cape billowing even though there was no wind in the room.
The class erupted.