5

Tenya Ida’s eyes popped open at the sound of a bird chirping outside his window. The sight of his dimly lit ceiling signaled the start of his day. He checked the alarm clock beside his pillow; it was set to go off in five minutes.

I might as well get up.

Ida turned off the alarm, stretched a bit, and got out of bed. After fixing the rumpled blanket, he proceeded with his daily routine by opening the curtains, which scared away the chirping bird on the veranda.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he said as he opened the window.

The morning view of U.A.’s campus spread before him was quickly becoming a familiar one, but it was always bracing to behold. A deep breath of the still-chilly air was just the thing to invigorate Ida for the day ahead. No time to dawdle, though. Ida shut the window, did his business in his en suite bathroom, and left his dorm room. He carried with him his toothbrush, his towel, and everything else he’d need at the sink in the boys’ changing room, which was attached to the bathing area down on the first floor.

“Again? Really…?” said Ida to himself, scowling at the state of the changing room. The baskets meant for holding bathers’ clothes were scattered about, and the tissue box and other provisions were out of place. Somebody had even left his toothbrush behind.

“Of all the…” sighed Ida, as he straightened up the room and placed the forgotten toothbrush in a prominent spot by the sinks. It wasn’t so messy that one couldn’t traverse the room; in fact, one might expect a changing room shared by fourteen boys to be much, much worse. But Ida was the word serious in human form, so he most certainly classified it as a mess.

A living space in disarray begets minds in disarray. They must learn to keep things tidier…

He had scolded his classmates about this plenty of times since they’d moved into the dorms, but the lesson never stuck. It ground Ida’s gears. He faced the mirror and brushed his teeth as he pondered a new approach to the topic.

“Good morning, Shoji, Koda,” said Ida, noticing the pair come into the changing room.

“You’re up early again today, President,” replied Mezo Shoji, who also stuck to a fairly regimented schedule. Behind him, a tired-looking Koji Koda gave a slight bow of acknowledgement. This was far from the first time Ida had bumped into these fellow early risers at this hour.

“Ah, do either of you happen to know who left this toothbrush behind?” asked Ida.

The two boys squinted at the toothbrush in his outstretched hand.

“Kaminari, maybe. I think his is that color,” said Shoji.

“Very well. Thank you, Shoji. I’ll have to rouse our forgetful classmate and ask him about it.”

Ida left the changing room and bumped into Mashirao Ojiro on the third floor. The latter was yawning as he left his room with towel in hand and tail fur full of cowlicks.

“Good morning, Ojiro.”

“Good morning…”

Back in his room, Ida changed into his school uniform and placed his pajamas—neatly folded—into the laundry basket. He checked to make sure his window was locked, closed the curtains, and picked up his schoolbag—already full of the books and supplies he would need for the day’s classes.

On his way to the elevator, he stopped at Denki Kaminari’s room and knocked on the door.

“Kaminari! Are you awake? If not, perhaps you ought to be!”

A moment passed, and then some shuffling sounds came from within.

“Mornin’…” said Kaminari as he opened the door. Ida had grown concerned about Kaminari’s tendency toward procrastination, so he’d been making an effort to wake his floor mate on mornings like this one.

“Good morning indeed, Kaminari! Did you happen to forget your toothbrush by the sinks?”

“Yawwwn… Huh? Oh. Maybe?”

“Well, I left it where you can’t miss it. Be more mindful next time! See you in class, then.”

Kaminari blinked lazily—still half-asleep—said, “Yayyy…” and nodded.

With that task out of the way, Ida made for the dining area on the first floor. The breakfast available (with both Japanese and Western options) was prepared early in the morning by the school’s head cook, Lunch Rush, and delivered to the dorms. Dinner was also carted over later in the day.

As Ida was selecting his miso soup, Shoji, Koda, Fumikage Tokoyami, Momo Yaoyorozu, and Kyoka Jiro all showed up for breakfast. After saying “Good morning,” each picked out some food and took a seat at the table.

“Yawwn… So sleepy…” said Jiro.

“Me too…” said Yaoyorozu, also yawning.

“Did something disturb your sleep?” asked Ida, turning to the girls.

“Nuh-uh… But last night, we…” started Jiro.

“Last night? What happened last night?”

Ida’s question seemed to startle them.

“L-last night…I was up quite late, simply absorbed in one of my books…” said Yaoyorozu.

“And I, uh… I was listening to music. Like I do…” said Jiro.

But Ida sensed something awkward about the girls’ explanations. On his other side, Tokoyami cleared his throat loudly and squinted at Ida’s breakfast.

“I see you opt for a traditional Japanese breakfast, President.”

“Quite right, Tokoyami. I’m grateful to Lunch Rush Sensei for providing us with such wonderful rice every morning!”

Ida had been taken off guard by the sudden pivot, but he assumed that Tokoyami must be equally enthusiastic about their surprisingly tasty school food. He finished every last grain of rice in his bowl, thanked the powers that be for the meal, and said, “See you all in class.”

As he exited Heights Alliance, the gleaming tower that was his destination came into view, with the verdant grounds and blue sky reflecting off its polished glass surfaces. The main U.A. High building beckoned, inspiring Ida to pick up his pace.

He was grateful that the implementation of the dorm system had shortened his commute. It wasn’t that Ida hadn’t made good use of the original travel time from his family home—that too had been a valuable opportunity to study or be alone with his thoughts—but having the school a stone’s throw away meant more energy to devote to worthier tasks.

As Aizawa was prone to pointing out, time didn’t grow on trees, so every minute of every day ought to be meaningful in some way.

Ida arrived in the classroom within minutes, and what he saw revived the same frown from earlier in the changing room. Many of his classmates’ chairs were out of place, despite his constant chiding about this very point.

Sloppy chairs lead to sloppy attitudes, so we must treat school property with greater respect.

Katsuki Bakugo’s was always the worst.

“Of all the…” said Ida for the second time that day.

After slotting the chairs under their respective desks, Ida got the broom and dustpan from the closet and began sweeping. There was nothing like a clean classroom to allow students to focus on their studies, after all. Next, he wiped down the lectern with a damp rag so that their teachers could better focus on teaching. With his routine concluded, the class president surveyed the spick-and-span classroom and smiled.

Let us make today another meaningful day.

Ida took his own seat and began to review subject material in silence. After a solid night’s sleep, early-morning studying was the perfect way to get the brain and body in gear for the rest of the day.

Before Ida knew it, it was three minutes to homeroom.

“Everyone sure is cutting it close…” he remarked. The entire class was usually present by this point, if not already in their seats. Ida tilted his head in concern, unsure why the classmates he’d run into at breakfast that morning weren’t there already.

Another two minutes ticked by, and just as the class president was really starting to panic, he heard the approach of a minor stampede out in the hallway. Within seconds, the other nineteen members of class A barged into the classroom, practically tripping over each other.

“Phew, made it…” said Eijiro Kirishima, his shoulders sagging in relief.

“A full sprint this early in the day? Not fun at all,” added Mina Ashido.

“What on earth were you all up to? Are you aware that homeroom is about to begin?” asked the concerned Ida, his arms wildly swinging side to side. His classmates froze and then broke into a series of awkward Umm’s and Well, y’know’s.

“Actually, y’see…” started Ochaco Uraraka, facing Ida. “We ran into some big old C-words.”

“C-word? Which C-word is that?”

“The creepy-crawly buggers that show up in the kitchen sometime. Those you-know-whats…”

“Ah! You mean Periplaneta japonica, or the common cockroa—”

“Don’t say it!” shot back Uraraka with a distinctly non-Uraraka expression. “Wouldn’t want to jinx it and summon another one, especially after we just got done exterminating!”

The intensity of her stare and tone made Ida flinch, but he recovered and clamped his hands down on his friend’s shoulders.

“I apologize that I wasn’t there to assist! That sounds like quite the ordeal!”

This made the others breathe a collective sigh of relief. As they took their seats, Izuku Midoriya and Shoto Todoroki greeted Ida wearily.

“Good morning, Ida.”

“Hey.”

“And good morning to you as well, Midoriya, Todoroki. It’s a bit early to be looking so exhausted, no?”

“Exhausted? Us? Nah… We’re not tired, right, Todoroki?”

“Guess not.”

As Ida’s two friends made for their seats, he couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss. Before Ida could voice his concern, he turned around and caught notice of Uraraka’s hair.

“Why, Uraraka! I’ve never known you to tolerate cowlicks.”

“Huh? Dang, really? I must not’ve slept well, staying up so late,” she said as she hastily smoothed down her hair with her hands. Like the hair, this comment caught Ida’s attention, since Yaoyorozu and Jiro had also mentioned having late nights.

“What kept you up, may I ask?” said Ida.

“I was just—”

But before she could finish, Uraraka clamped her own hands over her mouth.

“Uraraka?”

“N-nothing! No special reason. Just didn’t sleep well, I guess!”

Right on cue, Aizawa strolled through the door, prompting the kids to snap into their seats. A number of strange things were weighing on Ida’s mind, but those concerns would have to come later. First period would start immediately after homeroom, and these lessons demanded focus.

The first four periods of the day flew by.

At lunchtime, Ida made his way to Lunch Rush’s Cafeteria with Midoriya and Todoroki, just like always, and as per usual, the large space was packed with students—from all grade levels and courses of study—hoping to fill their bellies at a reasonable cost. The trio of 1-A boys followed the crowd and got in line.

“Lunch Rush Sensei must be busier than ever since the dorms were built,” said Ida.

“He’s making a whole lot more than just lunch now,” added Todoroki, which made Midoriya think.

“I wonder if he’ll revise his hero name? To ‘Three-Squares Rush’ or something?”

“No, I feel he ought to specifically reference breakfast, lunch, and dinner. ‘B.L.D. Rush,’ perhaps?” offered Ida.

“Ooh, ‘B.L.D.’ sounds like the name of some new sandwich,” said Midoriya.

“Pretty sure you can’t just change your hero name at the drop of a hat,” said Todoroki.

As the boys chatted, a trio of third-year students ahead of them in line—U.A.’s so-called Big Three—were having another conversation.

“Ugh… Why does this place always have to be so crowded? Can’t take it… Need to get outta here. Maybe I’ll take my lunch and eat in the corner of the classroom…” whined Tamaki Amajiki, who at a glance seemed far too timid to be considered one of U.A.’s top three hero hopefuls.

“You’ve been like this since we were first-years!” said Nejire Hado, in her usual practical way. “Kinda weird how you still haven’t adapted, huh! Huh! Hey, Togata, didja decide what to get yet? Me, I’ve been craving cold chuka noodles all day! Did I mention that earlier?”

“I’m going for ramen, with extra chashu pork! And I’ll save a piece for you, Tamaki!” said Mirio Togata, all smiles and charm.

“Thanks…” muttered Amajiki gratefully. “Pork, sure… That’ll give me a stronger sniffer for today, I guess.”

“So what’re you getting, Amajiki? Huh? Huh? It’s your turn to order! Didn’tcha notice?” said Hado.

“Ah… Um… What to get, what to get…”

“How about vongole, Tamaki? You like clams, right?” suggested Togata.

“Okay. Why not…”

The Big Three placed their orders, got their food, and strolled past the first-year trio. Though they didn’t know it at the time, it wouldn’t be long before class 1-A would get a guest presentation on work studies from the Big Three themselves.

When it was their turn to order, each of the boys picked his favorite dish: Ida got beef stew (with a glass of orange juice on the side), Midoriya chose the katsudon pork bowl, and Todoroki went for soba noodles served on a wickerwork tray. They found a table and were soon approached by Rikido Sato.

“Mind if I sit here too?” asked Sato.

“Of course n—”

“Go ahead! We sure don’t mind, right, Ida?” said Midoriya, interrupting Ida a bit too eagerly. Sato took a seat opposite the trio.

As he ate his lunch, Ida found himself reflecting on the events of the morning.

“Ah, a question, friends!” he said with a start. “How might I convince our fellow male classmates to keep the changing room tidier? When I went to freshen up this morning, I found the room in a state of disarray.”

“That bad, huh?” asked Sato.

Ida nodded. “Yes, the baskets were askew, and I feel the issue could be solved if we were all just a bit more mindful…”

“Hmm, maybe put up a sign? Like a friendly reminder?” offered Midoriya.

“Or stick magnets on the floor,” suggested Todoroki. “So the baskets could snap right back into position every time.”

They went back and forth for a minute until Sato interrupted.

“B-by the way, is there anything you can’t eat, Ida…?”

“Foods I dislike? No, I can’t say I’m all that picky.”

“Any food allergies, then?”

“No, none that I know of.”

“Great! Glad to hear it!” said Sato with a wide, satisfied grin that caused Ida to beam in response.

“Thank you for asking, though! Is there any reason in particular you’d need to know such a thing?”

At Ida’s question, both Midoriya and Sato flinched. Ida found this odd, but before he could ponder their reaction, Todoroki finished the soba noodles he was slurping and raised his head.

“Cuz it’s your—”

“Todoroki!” yelped Midoriya, who leaped out of his seat to clamp his hands over his friend’s mouth. Midoriya’s momentum threatened to send them both toppling to the ground, but Ida was quick enough to extend an arm and keep them upright.

“What ever is the matter, Midoriya?”

“N-nothing, really! I mean, uh, I noticed a scallion stuck to the corner of his mouth… Right, Todoroki?”

“Oops… Sorry. I was so caught up in my soba I got careless,” said Todoroki.

“Careless? How do you mean?” asked Ida.

“He didn’t mean a thing! Right, Todoroki…?”

“Right… I mean, the scallion. On my face. So careless.”

Something was off about the entire exchange, and Ida was once again reminded of the strange happenings throughout the day. Firstly, it wasn’t like Yaoyorozu, Jiro, and Uraraka to stay up particularly late. Ida thought back and realized that Tsuyu Asui, Mina Ashido, and Toru Hagakure had also been yawning like mad during the breaks between class periods. And now Midoriya and Todoroki’s clumsy attempt to cover up something. They were the types to wear their emotions on their sleeves, yet they insisted that nothing was the matter. It was also bizarre how late all nineteen of Ida’s classmates had arrived in the classroom.

Did I perhaps do something to offend without realizing it?

In searching for an explanation for the recent changes in his classmates, that was Ida’s first thought. He decided that the next word Todoroki had been about to utter after “Cuz it’s your—” was “fault.” That was hardly a logical follow-up to Ida asking why Sato wanted to know about allergies, but Ida’s distress over these disturbing events led him to that self-deprecating conclusion all the same.

So the class has decided to lie to me, shun me, ostracize me… But why? What on earth did I do to deserve such treatment?

Ida searched his memories, and it suddenly seemed obvious.

He was constantly warning Bakugo not to open doors with his feet. He had scolded Yuga Aoyama for staring into the mirror at length after bathing. He had told off Minoru Mineta for bringing adult magazines into the common area. He had lectured the boys about practicing their backstroke in the communal bath. He had chided them for getting Dark Shadow riled up at bath time, which resulted in foamy bubbles everywhere. And when Kaminari had decided to cover himself in body soap and slide around like a hockey puck, Ida had forbidden that particular antic from going forward.

Then there was that other time, when I…

The list was endless. His complaint about the messy changing room just moments ago, too, had probably come off as needless nagging. Suddenly, Ida’s favorite beef stew wasn’t hitting the spot anymore.

“Ida? Everything okay?”

Ida’s abrupt silence hadn’t escaped Midoriya’s notice.

“Yes, of course. I’m perfectly fine!” said Ida. He could tell that the concern on his friend’s face was genuine, at least. As he finished his lunch, he gave the predicament a bit more thought.

It’s not as though I have proof, so it’s shameful of me to doubt my friends. Yes, I must be reading into things too much.

But for the rest of the day, his classmates kept giving him the cold shoulder and keeping their interactions with Ida bizarrely brief, so by the time afternoon classes were over, his nagging doubt had turned to solid conviction. After all, when had the kids of class 1-A ever held back from speaking their minds, besides the times when Aizawa was lecturing them? The departure from the norm was even more striking once they got back to the dorm building—especially when, after an awkwardly silent dinner, they all left their seats simultaneously and with unusual efficiency.

Something is definitely odd, here…

Desperate to get to the bottom of the mystery, Ida decided to take his bath ahead of his usual schedule, since the boys might be more willing to open up in a space where they were already so exposed, physically. When Ida arrived in the changing room, he realized most of them were already bathing. Their respective bath times usually didn’t overlap to this extent. As Ida approached the closed door to the bath, he heard the animated conversation within.

“This part’s gotta be Midoriya or Todoroki.”

“Oh, uh-huh. Makes sense.”

“That’s a big responsibility.”

Ida could make out Kirishima’s voice, and then Midoriya’s and Todoroki’s responses.

They’re being entrusted with a task of some importance, then…?

The class president found his resolve and reached for the sliding door, but as he stepped into the room, Kaminari blurted out something not meant for Ida’s ears.

“Let’s just hope Ida decides to hole up in his room early tonight.”

“Ack!” said Midoriya, noticing Ida standing in the doorway.

The boys flinched, and Kaminari—looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar—sank down into the water until half his face was submerged. The lively conversation died, giving way to uneasy silence.

This is somehow about me, as I thought.

“It would seem you’re all speaking about me?” said Ida, screwing up his courage.

“S-say what? You? Nah! Whoops… Fingers are getting all pruney! Must’ve been in the bath too long!” stammered Kaminari.

“W-what he said!” added Midoriya. “Later, Ida.”

With that, the boys practically charged out of the bath, leaving Ida all by his lonesome in the steamy room. He washed himself in silence at a stall before stepping into the bath proper for a soak. He’d made a habit of always bathing with at least one other person since moving into Heights Alliance, so now, alone in the wide communal tub, he felt lost at sea, his mind adrift. With one last splash of water to the face, Ida stood and left.

“Midoriya, might I speak to you in my room for a moment?” said Ida, singling out his friend from the group in the common area.

“Huh? Oh, sure!”

Midoriya seemed ill at ease on the trip up to the third floor.

“This shouldn’t take too long—I know you have some business to conduct with Todoroki.”

“Eh? Why would you think that?”

“Apologies, but I overheard the conversation in the bath, earlier.”

“Oh, that? Nothing you have to worry about!”

Midoriya’s obvious panic made Ida frown, since this was far from the first time he’d heard “It’s nothing” and “Don’t worry” that day. Not to mention, there was no better sign that something was indeed something than the insistent claim that something was nothing.

“I need you to be honest with me, Midoriya, as my friend. Have I done something to make you and the others dislike me?”

Midoriya’s eyes grew wide at Ida’s grave concern.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” continued Ida, “how oddly you’ve all been acting, and I need to know why so that I may take steps to improve. So please, tell m—”

“That’s not it! Not at all!”

“But…”

“I promise, that’s not the case!”

Hearing this from Midoriya in no uncertain terms gave Ida some relief, but then his friend glanced at the clock on the wall, gasped, and panicked.

“You’re overthinking things, Ida. Are you getting enough sleep, buddy? That must be it! Better call it a night!”

Ida looked at the clock; it was far too early for bed.

“No, I don’t feel tired in the least…”

“Doesn’t matter! Just lie down, and you’ll get sleepy before you know it! C’mon, just…lie…down…already!”

Midoriya practically shoved Ida’s head onto the pillow and covered him with the blanket, before saying a quick “Good night,” flipping the light switch, and dashing out of the room.

With eyes shut, Ida attempted to follow his friend’s orders, but he simply wasn’t feeling sleepy.

“Aha!”

His eyes flashed open as he made the connection between Midoriya’s strange behavior and what he’d overheard Kaminari saying in the bath.

They really wanted to be rid of me that badly…?

Since starting his high school career at U.A., Ida had come to know his quirky classmates, learned more about the areas in which he needed improvement, and found some friends he respected. He was constantly striving to make every day a meaningful one, especially since being elected class president. It was Ida’s duty to lead the class to a better tomorrow. He couldn’t understand why they would suddenly ostracize him, but he guessed that perhaps they were fed up with his strict, faultfinding ways.

“I promise, that’s not the case!”

Midoriya’s declaration echoed in Ida’s mind. Those heartfelt words from a true friend.

I can’t take this anymore.

Ida sprang out of bed and left his room. Even if his classmates were shunning him, he was still fond of them—warts and all—especially given everything they’d overcome together so far. No, he could never bring himself to resent them, and if there was to be any hope of tackling the challenges to come, he had to confront them now.

Ida boarded the elevator, and as he watched the floor display tick down, he felt an odd combination of resolve and nerves deep in his gut. Upon arriving on the first floor, the doors opened to reveal an unlikely obstacle.

“Huhh?” said Bakugo, glaring at Ida suspiciously, presumably on his way up to his room.

But Bakugo made no effort to board the elevator. He only stood there staring, as if deep in thought.

“I would like to get out, Bakugo,” said Ida, but even this polite comment didn’t make the boy budge, so he decided to spell it out.

“It’s customary, Bakugo, for people to step off the elevator before others get on, so that they don’t need to bump past each other in the cramped space. So if you wouldn’t mind—”

But Ida caught himself. There he’d gone again, lecturing a classmate.

He could hear the others’ cheery voices over in the common area.

“Too cool! I’d think you bought it at the store, if I didn’t know better!”

“Looks delish! Great job as always, Sato!”

It sounds as though they’re about to enjoy one of Sato’s cakes or other confectionary creations…?

At the sound of this get-together, the steely resolve Ida had found in the elevator began to melt away. He stood there in silence as the elevator doors started to close, but at the last second, Bakugo pried the doors back open, stepped in, and jabbed the “Close Door” button.

“I’m actually getting out, Bakugo. As I previously explained…”

“What floor’s your room on?”

“Oh, have you forgotten? I reside on the third floor.”

Bakugo clucked his tongue in annoyance before pressing “3” and then “4,” for his own room. As the elevator started to move, he turned to Ida.

“Don’t you dare go back down there and interfere, four-eyes. Go back to your room and stick your nose in a book, or whatever crap you do to pass the time.”

Ida couldn’t figure out how to respond during the brief elevator ride, so when they reached the third floor, he stepped out slowly, without a word. On the trip back to his room, he reflected on the festivities he’d heard on the first floor as well as Bakugo’s warning. Just the thought of the class going silent at Ida’s arrival—as the boys had in the bath—made every step he took feel leaden and painful. Of course he’d never wanted to “interfere” with anyone’s fun.

As Ida stepped into his room, his cell phone rang on his desk. Caller ID told him it was his mother.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Tenya! How are things? Getting used to life in the dormitory?”

“Yes. I suppose,” said Ida, after a pause. His mother picked up on his hesitation and responded quietly.

“Well… You haven’t had too long to adjust yet, of course.”

Ida knew that he’d be unable to hide his angst if the conversation went on, and the last thing he wanted to do was worry his mother, so he changed the subject.

“What’s he talking about now?” came another voice from the phone. Ida pondered for a moment and gasped.

“Is Tensei there? Is he okay?”

“Your brother is just fine. Making lots of progress in his recovery, even,” replied his mother.

Ida’s relief didn’t last long, because the light in his room suddenly blinked off.

“Anyhow, since today is your b—”

“Apologies, Mother, but we seem to be experiencing a blackout! Is everything okay on your end?”

“Huh? Yes, we’re all right.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to call you back!”

Ida hung up and felt his way out of the dark room. The lights in the corridor were out too.

Another blackout, really…? It’s not storming like it was the other day… In any case, I had better make sure the others are safe!

Despite the apparent power outage, the elevator was still running. Perhaps the backup generator had kicked in, Ida thought as he pressed the button for the first floor. For a moment, his feet felt as leaden as they had earlier, but he quickly shook off the dark thoughts.

This is a potential emergency, so personal feelings must be set aside. I am the president of class A, after all.

The first floor was also pitch-black and bathed in complete silence.

I expected they would all still be here… Did they somehow steal away to their rooms in the meantime?

Ida didn’t have much time to think about it, because Uraraka’s piercing scream echoed from the common area.

“Eek!”

“Uraraka? What’s the matter?”

“S-save me, Ida! Quick! This way!”

“I’ll be there in a jiffy! Hang in there!” shouted Ida as he relied on touch and memory to dash across the space.

A villain attack, perhaps? What would be the best way to counter an invasion in here…? No, the top priority is rescuing Uraraka!

Ida’s leg brushed against the couch as he rushed to the source of his friend’s screams.

“Where are you, Uraraka?”

“Right here,” said Uraraka in her usual chipper voice, just as the lights popped back on.

“You’re all here?” gasped Ida. The entire class—except Bakugo and Sato—was gathered before his eyes. Behind them, colorful balloons and handmade paper flowers decorated one corner of the common area. Hanging from the window nearby was a banner whose message they now shouted in unison.

“Happy birthday, Ida!”

They all simultaneously pulled the cords on the party poppers they held. All except a flustered Todoroki, who—late to the proverbial party—punctuated the chorus of pops with a delayed one of his own.

Multicolored confetti filled the air, and Ida stood stunned.

“My birthday…?” he stammered. “I had completely forgotten…”

That must have been why Mother was calling…

The class ran up to Ida, surrounding him.

“We really pulled off the surprise, huh!” said a giggling Uraraka.

“What a nerve-racking day, though. Especially when we had to go over the plan just after Ida left for class. I was sure we would be tardy…” said Yaoyorozu, patting her chest to calm herself.

“So true,” added Jiro with a grimace.

“We stayed up late making all these decorations, y’know!” said Ashido.

“Thank goodness we finished in time, ribbit,” said Asui.

“And then we had to toss them all up at top speed while you were back in your room, Ida,” said Ojiro.

Kaminari clapped his hands together in apology.

“Sorry, man! I know that must’ve come off real weird, back in the bath!”

“This’ll probably be the only time we go all out, though,” said Sero with a grin. “Like, a special way of saying thanks to the class president who never quits on us!”

Kirishima, meanwhile, scratched his head disappointedly.

“Real shame Bakugo couldn’t stick around. Dude said he was getting sleepy and stormed off…”

Ida thought back on his bizarre interaction with Bakugo, who must’ve known about the party decorating going on just across the room. If Ida had walked in on that, the surprise would’ve been ruined.

Was Bakugo actually being…considerate?

Maybe considerate was going too far, but Ida felt like he’d seen a new side of his surliest classmate that day, and it brought a smile to his face.

“And hey, sorry about that weirdness in the cafeteria,” said Midoriya. “I panicked when Todoroki started blabbing.”

“Yeah. My bad,” said Todoroki.

“I must admit, that was the point when I really became suspicious,” said Ida, which made Midoriya feel even guiltier.

“Sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth earlier, but…” Midoriya paused. “But I meant what I said, about how it wasn’t what you were thinking! Of course we like you!”

Ida looked at the smiling faces that surrounded him, each of them thrilled that they’d pulled off the surprise party. Just knowing the awkward lengths they’d gone to all day to keep it under wraps filled Ida with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

“Hey, when’s it gonna be time for the main event?” called a voice from the kitchen. The class turned to see Sato’s face peeking from around the corner.

At Yaoyorozu’s signal, they started singing “Happy Birthday,” and that was Sato’s cue to carry the platter with the cake over to Ida. The brilliant orange cake was topped with sixteen lit candles. The panel of chocolate in the middle said, “Happy birthday, President! Thank you for all that you do! –Class A.”

“Now you get why I was asking about your preferences and allergies, yeah? Anyway, this thing’s made with orange juice, just for you, Ida. Not even from concentrate!”

“It’s…magnificent. Thank you,” said Ida, clearly moved.

“You gotta blow out the candles quick, Ida!” said Uraraka.

“And think of a wish when you do,” added Asui.

“A wish…?”

Urged on by the class, Ida took a deep breath.

“My wish…is to be a worthy president for the fine members of class A!” he said, before blowing out the candles with a mighty breath.

“I said think, not say out loud, Ida.”

“What good is my wish if I can’t announce it to you all?”

This left the rest of them stumped, so Ida let loose with a hearty laugh.

“Never mind that! I would just ask that you keep putting up with me, going forward!”

Ida’s smile was infectious, and as the faces around him beamed and grinned, he couldn’t help but feel proud. He’d have to remember to give his mother a call back and tell her—now, with confidence—that while life in the dormitory had its ups and downs, every wonderful day spent with his friends was well worth it.