A Precise Note Chapter 28 - Future

Student Roster

Class 1-A

Recommended Seat Assignments

Seat 1 — Midoriya Izuku

Seat 2 — Yoarashi Inasa

Seat 3 — Bakugo Katsuki

Seat 4 — Kaminari Denki

Seat 5 — Todoroki Shōto

Seat 6 — Yaoyorozu Momo

Seat 7 — Saiko Intelli

Seat 8 — Shiozaki Ibara

Seat 9 — Fumikage Tokoyami

Seat 10 — Kyōka Jirō 

Seat 11 — Hagakure Toru

Seat 12 — Asui Tsuyu

Seat 13 — Ashida Mina

Seat 14 — Uraraka Ochaco

Seat 15 — Kendo Itsuka

Seat 16 — Kodai Yui

Seat 17 — Shinsō Hitoshi

Seat 18 — Shōji Mezō

Seat 19 — Eijirō Kirishima

Seat 20 — Monoma Neito

Aizawa scratched his head, sighing as he looked over the roster of students that he would be teaching. He grabbed the cup of coffee in his hand, taking a slow sip, before he looked over the roster again and took another sip. He stared at the roster one more time, but the coffee was emptied by his third sip.

His headache had grown. His desire for sleep had not lessened. The staff room was starting to fill up as more and more teachers showed up, getting ready for the first day. Aizawa moved towards the coffee machine, silently grabbing his fourth cup of the morning, then he looked once more at the student roster, and instinctively decided to take another cup with him.

How many teachers can handle these twenty…?

Aizawa could count on one hand the number of teachers well-equipped to perform the task. 

It isn’t only a matter of Quirks, but of expectations… of origins.

Most of the students in Class 1-A were the ‘best’ of their respective institutions. They were talented, all of them, ridiculously so, and that talent inevitably gave way to inflated perspectives of power and self-importance. As was often the case with talented geniuses, many of them were arrogant, or possessed inflated perspectives of themselves and lowered opinions of others.

Aizawa wanted to claim that the arrogance was undeserved, but it wasn’t. There was a very real possibility that if they ganged up on any other teacher all at once, they would be able to defeat them. Neither Midnight nor Present Mic had the sheer range and versatility needed to handle these twenty students.

Aizawa did not make that observation lightly, and he did not like the connotations of what that meant. A group of about twenty unproven hero aspirants could take down Pro-Heroes with decades of experience merely because Nezu had carefully curated and selected them. 

The Classroom of the Elite, some were jokingly starting to call it. The Classroom of Monsters would be a more apt term in Aizawa’s opinion.

Speaking of…

“Good morning, Aizawa-kun.”

His presence was like thunder. It inspired fear and awe and sometimes, religious adulation. Aizawa knew that the man in front of him was often praised, sometimes worshipped. Even appearing in his ‘deflated’ form, there was always that sharpness to his eyes and tremble to his voice, which many theorists had hypothesized that he possessed a secret secondary quirk capable of calming and inspiring people.

Aizawa knew the truth. He possessed no such thing. That ability to calm and inspire was innate. It was a gift, one which could not be erased or eliminated, quenched or drowned. Aizawa understood it was his paranoia, more than anything, which made him wary of the man. Somehow, despite having the most to lose, the man in front of him was the least likely person alive who would think about trying to harm him.

Yet, Aizawa kept his distance.

Paranoia, unnecessary, many would claim. The Symbol of Peace was the least likely person to be his enemy, logic would dictate, but it was precisely because of that reason that Aizawa was wary. A small part of it was also to do with the falling out, of course, between his benefactor, Sir Nighteye, and the man in front of him. A falling out over something Aizawa had gleaned to be a dispute over a successor.

“Morning, Yagi-san.”

“I happened to run into one of your students and had a conversation with him,” Toshinori Yagi said. “I could pick up the sounds from Class 1-A. You may have your hands full this time, Aizawa-kun.”

Aizawa neither confirmed nor denied the words. “So it seems.”

“Have you met our new Guidance Counselor?”

“I have.”

“Bubaigawara-san seems rather accomplished… although…” 

Toshinori let the sentence hang. Aizawa understood what he meant, even without him needing to say it.

Bubaiwagara is most likely not ‘here.’

Grabbing the roster, he emerged from his seat, grabbing his coffee with him.

“Aizawa-kun, if I may…” Toshinori paused. “How is Sasaki-kun doing?”

Aizawa stopped. “The same as always.”

“Is he…?” Toshinori mumbled. “Yes… I suppose so…”

A strange silence lingered between them. “You can come by the Agency,” Aizawa said at last. “I don’t think he would mind.”

Toshinori smiled in a way that was both a smile and not a smile at the same time. “You must have heard about our... disagreement.”

“I don’t pay much heed to topics that aren’t my business,” Aizawa shook his head. “It is a life-saving habit.”

Toshinori laughed. “One I hope you do not intend to pass down to your students.”

“Only if necessary…” Aizawa admitted.

The two stood there again, for an awkward moment.

“These students… are special this year.”

“They are.”

“They are also very delicate.”

Delicate? Aizawa lifted a brow. “That’s not a word I would use.”

“Burdens and expectations have been placed upon them that they were not ready for. That they are not ready for. Many of them… are delicate. If you would permit me, Aizawa-kun, rather than a strong approach, might I suggest a soft one?”

A soft… approach?

“I’ll take it into consideration.”

“That is all I ask, Aizawa-kun.”

Aizawa’s thoughts were turning as he contemplated the man’s words. Nezu had outdone himself, and yet, he may have undone himself. There was more to being a hero than merely having a powerful ability. That was the entire reason Nezu changed the exam system, in order to reflect that. It was the entire reason they added Hero Evaluation scores, to enable Pro-Heroes to make their verdicts on what, or who, was considered true hero material.

He left the office, walking with a bit of a slouch before making his way towards Class 1-A. The further he got to the class, the louder the commotion he heard. The noise seemed to be from a cacophony of voices, some louder than others, and some outright in direct conflict with each other.

Aizawa sighed, sliding the door open.

Snap judgment and quick thinking made him instantly flare his Erasure quirk. He would like to call it quick thinking, but he knew that it was mostly paranoia. Someone dropped down from the ceiling, another person stumbled, and the entire room spun their attention straight in his direction.

They’ve already formed cliques?

Humans were social animals. It was no surprise. Yet, the rapidity of the clique forming was a surprise, even to him. Aizawa had memorized the files of the twenty students, and the manner in which these twenty divided themselves into four cliques of five was something he took note of. Four cliques, each with a different, but apparent leader.

Hagakure Toru, Shiozaki Ibara, Shinsō Hitoshi, and Intelli Saiko formed a clique around Midoriya Izuku…

Yaoyorozu Momo, Asui Tsuyu, Ashida Mina, Kirishima Eijiro, are hovering about Bakugo Katsuki…

Uraraka Ochaco, Kendo Itsuka, Fumikage Tokoyami, and Kyōka Jirō seem to be surrounding Kaminari Denki…

Then the final group that does not seem to be a group at all… Shōto Todoroki, Monoma Neito, Kodai Yui, Shōji Mezō… at the front, is Yoarashi Inasa… 

Aizawa took note of all this in a moment, lifting a slight brow.

Midoriya… Bakugo… Denki… Yoarashi…

These four…

Aizawa sipped from his coffee.

“My name is Aizawa Shota,” he began slowly. “From today, I’ll be your Homeroom Teacher.”

Aizawa opened his lips, but stopped.

A soft approach…

His intended plan was to perform a Quirk Assessment Test. Even before he met All Might this morning, he was already reconsidering the necessity of it. Now however…

“Tear out a sheet of paper from your notebooks.”

The entire classroom collectively turned to stare at him.

“You’ll be writing an introductory essay,” Aizawa said dryly. “The title of the Essay is… ‘Letter to Future Me.’”

Aizawa yawned.

“You are writing a letter to yourself in ten years. There is no right and no wrong. Simply write whatever it is you would want to ask them, whatever it is you hope they have accomplished. Write it with the intention that ten years from now… you’ll read it for yourselves.”

Two hands went up. Midoriya, predictably, was one. Yaoyorozu was the other.

“This won’t be graded.”

The boy blinked. The girl paused. Both hands went down.

“You have one hour.” 

Aizawa set down a timer on his watch as he sat back in the chair.

“Take your time. Write…”

Aizawa paused.

“Write from the heart.”

XXXXX

…Is he truly that upset with me?

Intelli Saiko shot a furtive, subtle glance at Midoriya, who had, since she arrived at the classroom, only greeted her casually and said not a single word to her since she entered the classroom. She only casually glanced at the empty piece of paper in front of her, not at all interested in the task the teacher had set, and more interested in the green-haired boy who sat at the front.

Granted, my behavior in our last encounter was unbecoming… but…

Saiko had already mentally prepared and anticipated a cold shoulder from Midoriya. She would have preferred that, as it would show he had been hurt, offended, by her actions, and there would be room for reconciliatory actions. However, Midoriya had acted as though his thoughts, his mind, were elsewhere. As though he did not care for everything or everyone around him, and thus, had neither paid attention to her, nor treated her with callousness or snideness, but merely with a level of blasé detachment.

As if… he had no interest in her whatsoever.

That cannot be right… can it?

Mental changes could not happen so swiftly—

No, that is not correct.

In a normal person, such mental changes could not occur so swiftly, but Midoriya Izuku was the farthest thing from normal. A person who could control his own endocrine system at will and therefore be able to modify and augment even his brain, emotional states, and behavior could not be viewed through the lens of a normal person. For others, perhaps, the brain would be far more resistant to changes in identity, in beliefs, in hobbies and preferences, in likes and in interests, but not for Midoriya.

A person born with a preference for ‘chocolate’ over ‘vanilla’ could not discern for themselves why that preference existed, nor could they at will, randomly choose one day to change their preferences, any different than she, being born with an attraction towards intelligent, competent males, could not choose to shut off this attraction one day and decide her sexual interests lay in females with rough accents of the gal-subculture.

But if Midoriya’s Precision Quirk worked as she suspected, the boy could do so. 

It was entirely feasible for Midoriya to do away with his sexual and physiological attraction to women if he wished. If he did, then Saiko would have no recourse. No control. Her plans, her expectations that his developing hormonal brain would make him more likely to forgive her past transgression, would be dead in the water. The fact that in the end, she was an attractive, intelligent, fertile female, and Midoriya at his core was still a hot-blooded male, would hold no sway over his decisions, thought processes, or preferential treatment.

It would be as if she were dealing with a man attracted to other men, and as such, those subtle biases and unconscious acts of benevolent sexism would be nowhere to be seen.

Surely he didn’t…

She did not believe Midoriya had gone as far as to shut off his attraction to women. His brain, that marvelous brain of his, she would like to explore to its depths, was amazing, and being able to hardwire and rewire his emotional states, and thus thought processes on a dime, would be something that made Midoriya not only incredibly versatile, but also immensely unpredictable and exceedingly dangerous. 

For the normal person, when they gained new information that conflicted with prior beliefs, there was a sense of discomfort created in the brain called cognitive dissonance.

Neurologically, Cognitive Dissonance occurs when deeply held beliefs are challenged, and the result would be no different from raising a biological alarm, sending trigger responses as if the body were under attack. It could lead to the release of hormones like cortisol and adrenaline, and trigger fight-or-flight responses. Conversely, when existing beliefs are affirmed, the brain's reward pathways switch on, releasing dopamine and creating a feeling of pleasure.

However, Saiko was aware that Midoriya could alter his emotional states, and thus, control his hormones, and thus, cognitive dissonance was a thing he could eliminate as easily as breathing. This meant that ideas in his head could be accepted and dismissed faster and easier than any other human.

Today, Midoriya could believe one thing was true… and if he found enough evidence that contradicted it, tomorrow, he could switch to believing the exact opposite was true, without so much as a single hiccup, because there was no chemical reinforcement controlling him, which made it appealing to stick with existing beliefs and existing belief systems.

It was no exaggeration to claim that Midoriya could go from progressive advocate to conservative zealot and back without so much as batting an eyelash, whereas others would never dream of being able to change their ideologies. 

This was what made Saiko unusually anxious.

If Midoriya had truly decided that he was no longer interested in her, he could, without so much as a second thought, never give her the time of day again. There would not even be such things as remnant emotions or lingering regrets or residual affections… she could, at a whim, be no different to him from a total stranger.

Saiko did not know what she could or would do if that was the case.

Focus, Saiko, you did not come to UA Academy merely to spend your days focused on Midoriya Izuku…

She shook her head and stared down at the paper in front of her.

It occurred to her that others were already writing, scribbling, and her paper was still empty. Slowly, she grabbed her pen, clicked her tongue, and scribbled. 

Dearest Future Self…

At the behest of my homeroom teacher, I am conducting this ruse of a task, of addressing you, myself, in the future.  Why am I even bothering with the pretense that this activity has any meaning, I do not know.

In ten years, predictably, you will have accomplished all the goals you set out for yourself and completed all the dreams you set for yourself. You are no doubt one of the foremost explorers of the New Frontier, no doubt have memories of stepping on moondust, and you have no doubt experienced a view like no other, seeing the earth in its entirety from a place amidst the stars. There, undoubtedly, will be some hiccups, as there always are with any goals, but these are hiccups you have no doubt prepared, anticipated, and conquered.

In ten years, this world will be a different place, unrecognizable from its previous shadow, and in ten years, you too, will have long lifted yourself out of that shadow of fear, and either slain the evil responsible for it, or… perhaps, morosely, have been slain. There is undoubtedly no middle ground. Of course, if the latter is the case, then you will not be alive to read this; thus, if you are reading this, then there is no doubt that you have been successful. 

Thus, congratulations are in order. Champagne is to be popped, and imbibed, and victory perhaps celebrated, though undoubtedly, that too has already been done.

In the unlikely event that none of these came to fruition, and that our plans failed… and that you are either the slave of that great evil or living in a wretched, twisted world where our dreams of the stars are buried forever, then this entire letter must seem like a mocking, scathing offering; like salt rubbed upon an already festering wound. 

To which, I do not apologize. 

If you fail, it is of no fault but your own… my own, I suppose, as you are my future. Though I cannot fathom a future of failure. In the unlikely event that such a future is indeed our future, is indeed the reality that surrounds you, then remind yourself, and ask yourself…

Saiko paused writing. She noticed Midoriya ahead of her.

Ask yourself why you had such goals to begin with. 

Perhaps that shall give you strength. Or perhaps it shall not. Ten years is a long time. We are the same person, but our experiences undoubtedly vastly differ. I think it is folly, or even stupidity, to believe I could offer you any wisdom now, from the past, that you, in the future, wiser and more experienced, have not already gleaned.

Thus, this entire letter seems pointless. Futile. Of no purpose but to reminisce wistfully.

Or not. Perhaps it is like a photograph, a snapshot of the person I once was.

Regardless, you surely have better things to do, currently, than reminisce wistfully. I sincerely hope so. 

The stars await us, as does the expanse beyond.

Yours, to infinity,

Past You.

XXXXX

…Soft Approach.

Aizawa ran his hand through his hair as he collected the last of the essays and ushered the students out to go for their orientation. He had not understood why All Might had told him such. Perhaps the man had seen something that he hadn’t, or perhaps he had taken note of something that no one else could, but Aizawa could not help but admit that he was right.

He did not know why a part of him had thought the students would not take this exercise seriously, or why a small part of him suspected that most would only give flattering depictions of themselves in their letters to the future, and while many did, it was only to a small extent.

The hardest person to deceive is yourself.

Aizawa slowly sipped his coffee as he looked through the letters, one after the other. He began to understand, little by little, just what sort of people he was having as his students.

He would not read them all at once. He would not do so.

One at a time. Taking his time.

It was only right to give it that much attention.

Nezu… these students…

Aizawa sighed.

…We really need to protect them.

XXXXX

Yo, Future Me!

It’s me! The Most ELECTRIFYING MAN IN HERO ENTERTAINMENT! How’s it going? Are we the Number 1 Hero yet? I know we are, we definitely are! So, how’s it feel being on top of the world?

Got all the girls? All the fame? We got all the riches too! Right? Right? Definitely, we got it all!

Dazzling and shining and taking the world by storm! Heroes gotta be cool! You know! So you’re definitely the coolest man around! You, that’s me, that’s us, we’re definitely the best of the best! Rocking and cooling!

Say, say, managed to figure out that ultimate technique yet? You know, THAT one, we’ve been working on for like… months now, but couldn’t figure out? Yeah, you probably have. Duh. Like, ages ago too. There’s no way you’d not have figured it out.

Say…

So…

Hm…

The teach’s the one who asked us to do this, but I don’t really have much I wanna ask. The Future’s meant to be a surprise, y’know? But… given that it's ten years… did Kyōka finally forgive us…? Or… well… no, wait, you’d probably have forgotten all about her by now! Hah! With all the girls you’ve gotten, there’s no way you’d remember Kyōka with the earphone jack… yup. I mean… you’re the most ELECTRIFYING MAN so… yeah… I guess… maybe… maybe… you don’t even remember her.

Say… Future Me…

Did mom and dad finally work things out? 

I mean, I’m sure they would have, right? With how rich and famous you are, you must have brought them together and said, ‘See? That coma wasn’t all bad! Look at how famous your son is now! And rich! And I’ll give you plenty of grandkids too!’  

You definitely, absolutely, totally managed to get them to patch things up, right? You managed to convince Mom it wasn’t her fault, right? Right? Future Me? Right…?

Say…

You know it wasn’t her fault, because we were really, really dumb and messing around with our Quirk, but… hey, Future Me… they’re talking to each other now, right? Right? They don’t argue anymore… right? They hug each other like they used to, right…?

Definitely…

Yeah… I know you can do it, Future Me! I know… right now… I’m still kinda no one, and nobody… but you’re the greatest hero, Future Me! The most Electrifying Man in Hero Entertainment…

When you’re that electrifying… you can pull things together… like a magnet… there’s nothing you can’t pull back together… 

So… definitely… totally, absolutely… 

You did it, Future Me.

I'm gonna celebrate here, from the past! Woo!

Yours electrifyingly…

You.