Wilted Bloom

The morning at UA High began like any other, but excitement buzzed in the air as Class 1-A gathered outside, their voices a symphony of energy and anticipation. The students whispered amongst themselves, speculating about their upcoming training session at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, better known as the USJ.

Standing in his usual slouched posture, Aizawa Shota glanced at the chattering group, his scarf draped loosely around his neck. His tired eyes swept over the students before he sighed, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

"Listen up," he said, his tone flat but commanding enough to quiet the group. "This is a controlled training session. Stick to your assignments, and don't do anything reckless."

"Yes, sensei!" the students replied in unison, their enthusiasm unwavering.

the students piled onto the bus, still chatting animatedly, Aizawa lingered near the doors for a moment, his gaze drifting back toward the school. His face softened briefly, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

"See you later, Maya," he murmured under his breath, the words so quiet even he barely heard them.

He blinked and shook his head, blaming his slip on exhaustion. But as he turned to board the bus, his eyes caught something unusual—a faint image near a distant tree.

A woman's silhouette stood there, framed by long, flowing hair that shifted gently in the light breeze. Her smile was bright, radiant even, and unmistakably familiar.

It was Maya.

Aizawa froze, his breath hitching in his throat. He pressed his hands against his eyes, rubbing them as though trying to clear his vision. Slowly, he looked again.

She was gone.

The tree stood alone, its leaves swaying softly, but the figure had vanished without a trace. Aizawa sighed, lowering his hands and muttering under his breath, "I'm too tired for this."

Shaking his head, he adjusted his scarf and stepped onto the bus, brushing the moment aside—though the faint image of her smile lingered in his thoughts.Inside the bus, the students of Class 1-A were lively as always, their chatter filling the air with energy. Aizawa sat near the front, slouched in his seat with his scarf pulled up, exuding his usual aura of disinterest.

"I'm telling you, my quirk is super flashy!" Kaminari said proudly, grinning as he gestured with both hands. "It's definitely the coolest in the class."

"You just short-circuit yourself if you go overboard," Jiro retorted, smirking. "So much for cool."

"Hey! That's a feature, not a flaw!" Kaminari protested, earning a round of laughter.

"You know, I think Todoroki has the strongest quirk," Yaoyorozu said thoughtfully. "Half-cold, half-hot is incredibly versatile."

"Maybe, but it's all about how you use it," Kirishima chimed in. "Like me—my quirk is simple, but it's perfect for close combat!" He flexed his arms dramatically.

"Perfect for looking like a rock," Jiro teased, earning a playful glare from Kirishima.

"Yeah, well, it's definitely better than Bakugo's," Kaminari said, glancing toward the blond. "I mean, all he does is blow stuff up!"

"What'd you say, idiot?!" Bakugo snapped, turning in his seat to glare at Kaminari.

Kirishima grinned, throwing an arm over the back of his seat. "Aw, come on, Bakugo, they're just saying your quirk's a bit... one-note."

"Shut up, Shitty Hair! My quirk is perfection!" Bakugo barked, his voice loud enough to make the others wince.

"Right, because blowing things up screams hero material," Jiro said, deadpan.