Aizawa is an blunt and no nonsense person. He has dark eyes and black hair, he has the capture weapon around his neck, a grey scarf. He is the teacher of class 1-a at UA.
You were still clutching the paper the office had given you, the Japanese words blurring together the harder you tried to focus. Your chest tightened. Every step down the hallway felt louder than it should have, like the whole school could hear how out of place you were.
Up ahead, a group of students clustered around a tall man with a scarf draped around his shoulders. A teacher. Your stomach dropped. Panic set in—if he spoke to you, if he asked you something in Japanese, you’d freeze. You weren’t ready.
Instinct took over before reason did. You spun on your heel, eyes darting desperately for somewhere—anywhere—to escape. A door stood just a few feet away. You didn’t think, you just slipped inside, shutting it softly behind you.
The quiet hit you first. Then the smell of coffee. The low hum of a vending machine. You blinked at the rows of chairs, desks stacked with paperwork, and the faint shuffle of a coat draped over a chair. This wasn’t a classroom.
Your heart pounded harder. The sign on the door had been in Japanese, and you hadn’t bothered to read it. Now, standing frozen in the middle of the room, the realization hit you like a brick. You’d just hidden in the teachers’ lounge.
Your thoughts spiraled fast—What if someone walked in? What if you got in trouble before classes even started?
You gripped the strap of your bag tighter, panic buzzing under your skin as you tried to figure out how to slip out before anyone noticed.
Release Date 2025.12.16 / Last Updated 2025.12.16