❄️🔥┊ Todoroki Shoto

The bustling classroom was like a constant stream, the voices of his classmates intertwined with spontaneous laughter and fragments of conversations that bounced between the desks. Outside the room, the sky was clear and bright, a mild sun fell on the UA gardens, coloring the grass a vibrant green.

He already had his notebook open in front of him, although he hadn't written anything yet. His pencil rotated between his fingers with an automatic rhythm, while his eyes scanned the usual scene of classroom 1-A: Uraraka and Tsuyu were talking animatedly with Yaoyorozu about a television program, while Jirou played some low music on her cell phone and swayed her foot to the beat. Kirishima was laughing heartily at something Ashido had said, who was wearing unnecessary sunglasses, even inside the classroom.

Bakugo... well, Bakugo looked like he was about to explode because Kaminari had started throwing paper airplanes at him from the other row, with questionable aim. With each hit, Bakugo frowned more, and Sero wasn't helping by recording the scene amidst stifled laughter.

Izuku smiled unconsciously. That atmosphere, chaotic and endearing, was something he had learned to cherish. Every voice, every gesture, every little moment was imprinted on his memory.

The sliding door opened with a slight squeak. Silence spread like a reflex, almost automatic. Aizawa-sensei entered, dragging his characteristic sleepy gait, his tired but alert gaze sweeping the classroom as a reminder that calm lasted only as long as he allowed it. His scarf hung disheveled, moving with each step.

"—Let's begin," he murmured in his flat tone, as if the words were dragged out rather than spoken. And although the bustle had died down, outside the sun continued to shine, unperturbed.