Let's dive...Into Madness! (UA War Game)

Aizawa walked in, his usual tired expression plastered on his face as he dragged himself to the front of the room. The class instantly quieted down, all eyes on our homeroom teacher. I put on my best attentive face, sitting up straight and nodding slightly as he began his speech.

"Well, you all lost," Aizawa started bluntly, his voice devoid of any sugarcoating. "And you lost badly."

Collective groans filled the air, shoulders slumping under the weight of his words. A few heads hung in shame, and I could practically feel the disappointment radiating off some of my classmates. I kept my face neutral, just another one of the team who had been ruthlessly eliminated.

"Your teamwork was lacking. You got too comfortable, and you underestimated your opponent." His gaze flicked to me for just a second before moving on. "Your inability to adapt was your biggest weakness."

I felt my lips twitch, but I quickly turned it into a serious nod. Adaptability, huh? Guess playing a role to perfection really does throw people off their game. They weren't wrong, though. Class 1-A did get too comfortable. They trusted each other too much, didn't suspect enough, and that was their downfall.

"You were led around by the nose the entire time," Aizawa continued, his voice cold. "If this had been a real battle against a real villain, you would all be dead."

The room went silent, the weight of his words settling in. A few faces turned pale, others looked down at their desks in shame. I felt a shiver run down my spine, and for a moment, I almost believed him. But then I reminded myself—it was just a game. Just acting.

Aizawa's gaze softened just a fraction. "Still," he added, crossing his arms, "you showed potential. You never gave up, even when the odds were against you. That's the kind of determination a hero needs."

I could see the others perk up at that, the praise lifting their spirits a little. Denki let out a relieved sigh, and Kirishima pumped his fist quietly. I kept my face neutral, nodding along with the rest. After all, I was just a member of the losing team, right?

"Midoriya," Aizawa suddenly called out, his dark eyes locking onto me.

I straightened, giving him my most innocent smile. "Yes, sir?"

He studied me for a moment, his gaze sharp. "You did well."

I blinked in surprise. "Oh... thank you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "But don't get cocky. You exploited their weaknesses, but you also got lucky. Relying on luck will get you killed."

I nodded, forcing my expression to stay serious. "Understood, sir."

Aizawa's eyes lingered on me a little longer before he moved on, his gaze shifting to the rest of the class. "Learn from this. All of you. You were outsmarted, outmaneuvered, and outplayed. If you don't adapt, you'll never make it as heroes."

Another round of defeated nods went through the room, and I joined in, trying to look as disappointed as everyone else. It was surprisingly easy.

The rest of the debriefing passed in a blur, Aizawa going over individual performances and pointing out mistakes. He was brutal, his words cutting straight to the heart of every flaw, every misstep. But that's what made him a great teacher. He didn't sugarcoat anything.

I listened with half an ear, accepting every criticism with a nod and a smile. It was fine. Everything was fine.

No one was treating me any differently. No one was looking at me like I was a monster. To them, I was still the same old Midoriya, their cheerful, friendly classmate who just happened to play his part a little too well.

I glanced around the room, catching snippets of exhausted faces, defeated postures, and quiet whispers. Kaminari was rubbing his head, probably still shaken from the "backstabbing" incident. I made a mental note to apologize to him later. Just to keep up appearances.

Bakugo was glaring at his desk, his hands clenched into fists. He looked ready to explode. I wondered if he was angrier about losing or about me outsmarting him. Either way, I'd have to tread carefully around him.

Shoto sat quietly, his arms crossed as he stared blankly ahead. There was a small bruise on his cheek from where I'd knocked him out. I resisted the urge to grin. I'd gotten him good.

"Midoriya!" Kirishima called out as soon as Aizawa dismissed us. "Dude, you were insane out there! I mean, I knew you could strategize, but that was... that was something else!"

I rubbed the back of my head, letting out a sheepish laugh. "Oh, uh... I just did my best, I guess."

I could feel eyes on me, my classmates gathering around to either compliment or complain about my tactics. I played the part perfectly—cheerful, friendly, a little embarrassed at all the attention. The ideal hero student.

"Seriously, man," Sero chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief. "You'd make one terrifying villain."

I laughed, waving his comment off. "Nah, I don't think I could pull that off."

They all laughed with me, completely buying the act. If only they knew. If only they could see the thoughts running through my head, the calculations, the strategies, the masks I wore. But they didn't, and that's what made it so easy.

No one was suspicious. No one doubted me. I was just Midoriya Izuku, the cheerful, awkward, quirk-obsessed hero student. Nothing more, nothing less.

My chest felt light, a soft warmth spreading through me. I had played the villain, and they still saw me as the hero. I was still their friend, still their ally.

Nothing had changed.

I smiled to myself, a genuine, gentle smile. Aizawa's voice droned on, his words washing over me like background noise. I was safe. My secret was safe. And my role was secure.

Because at the end of the day, the best actor never breaks character.

And I was the best there was.