The U.A. Afterschool Lounge wasn't flashy. Just a broad, sun-drenched room on the third floor of the main building, usually reserved for quiet study groups or club meetings. But after a long training day, Class 1-A had unofficially claimed it as their chill zone — a shared agreement born of exhaustion and survival.
The desks had been pushed to the walls. Cushions, yoga mats, and beanbags were scattered around like someone had just thrown a slumber party at a martial arts studio. The wide windows let in the fading golden light of a summer evening, catching dust motes that floated lazily through the air.
Mina landed on one of the beanbags with a bounce. "Okay, okay, I can't stand it. We've been training together for two weeks and I barely know your favorite snacks, let alone your tragic backstories."
"Do we have to share tragic backstories?" Jirou asked from a low seat, looping her earjack around her finger absently.
"No pressure," Mina replied, grinning. "But we do need to break this awkward ice. I call a vibe circle. Everyone's gotta share one weird fact about themselves. Or an embarrassing moment. Dealer's choice."
Bakugo, lounging in the corner with arms crossed, let out a low growl. "Kill me now."
"Too much work," Kaminari said cheerfully. "You go last."
"Try me, Pikachu."
"Heeey now," Kaminari smirked, "let's keep it PG-13, Kaachan."
"I will end you."
Uraraka laughed and leaned toward Midoriya, nudging him with her elbow. "You're going first."
"Wh-why me?!"
"Because you're full of secrets," she said, teasing.
"I'm really not!"
"You carry around seven notebooks labeled 'Battle Strategy – Confidential'."
"They're not that confidential…" Izuku muttered, flushed.
Jirou smirked. "You do mutter like a spy. Let's hear one of your notes."
"Oh no," he groaned, hiding behind his hands.
"Midoriya," Yaoyorozu offered gently from her spot near the window, "you're among friends. No judgment."
He peeked through his fingers, then sighed. "Okay, uh… weird fact about me. I used to snap pencils during middle school because I wrote so fast when analyzing Pro Heroes. Like, ten pencils a month. My mom started buying them in bulk."
"Dude!" Kirishima said, eyes lighting up. "That's dedication."
Mina grinned. "You're totally the 'if you died in battle I'd write an essay about your sacrifice' type."
"I have," Izuku said before thinking. "I mean—!"
The group broke into laughter. Even Todoroki, quietly seated with a cup of tea, quirked the smallest smile.
"You write about us too?" Uraraka asked, curious.
"Um… yeah. Kind of. Strategy ideas. Team ups. Quirk synergies."
"Show us!" Kaminari leaned over eagerly.
Izuku hesitated — but eventually cracked open one of his battered notebooks. "Okay. Here's one for Kirishima."
He flipped to a page. "Kirishima Eijirou: Quirk — Hardening. Ideal frontline tank, can take impacts for squishier teammates like Jirou or Aoyama. Great candidate for combo defense tactics if paired with Yaoyorozu generating shields or barriers. Potential for last-man-standing missions. Also…" He paused. "Has shown consistent selflessness. Reliable in high-stress zones."
There was a brief silence. Kirishima looked stunned.
"That's… seriously man, that's awesome."
"Do me next!" Kaminari begged.
Soon Izuku was surrounded by classmates craning to peek over his shoulder. Even Bakugo, from the back, didn't move — but didn't leave either.
Yaoyorozu leaned closer and murmured to Izuku, "You've been watching us all this time… not to judge, but to protect us."
He blinked. "I guess I have."
Shared Snacks, Laughter, and Quirks
Sato, ever the baker, had brought a tray of homemade sweet buns from home and passed them around. Ojiro poured paper cups of cold barley tea from the dispenser. Someone turned on the speaker system to a soft playlist, and the room settled into a warm rhythm of comfortable noise.
Mina had started putting glitter makeup on Uraraka's cheeks "for combat shine," while Jirou plucked quiet beats against a nearby book with her earjacks. Shoji, from the corner, passed out fresh wipes without being asked.
"Guys," Kaminari announced, holding up his phone, "we need a class group chat."
"Yes," Mina declared. "And we're naming it."
"What about 'Class 1-A: Hero Hustle'?" suggested Kirishima.
"No, no," Jirou said. "'Don't Tell Aizawa.'"
Everyone laughed.
"That's perfect," Uraraka said. "It even sounds kind of illegal."
Momo smiled faintly. "Then we'll all get in trouble together."
"Camaraderie," Tokoyami said darkly. "The truest form of rebellion."
Phones buzzed with pings as invites went out. Someone started assigning emojis to names. Sero stuck tape to Kaminari's back when he wasn't looking. Bakugo grumbled. But he didn't leave.
As the group settled again — full of food, tired laughs, and low conversations — Momo turned to Izuku with a small smile.
"I wasn't sure what life at U.A. would be like," she admitted.
Izuku glanced up. "Yeah?"
"I thought it would feel… competitive. Isolated." She looked around at the circle of classmates, everyone tangled in friendly banter or quiet thought. "But this? This is… grounding."
Izuku nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
A warm hush fell between them — the kind that only happens when people feel safe. Outside the world was still uncertain. Entrance into U.A. hadn't guaranteed peace, or even clarity.
But in that lounge, with mismatched cushions, half-eaten snacks, and glitter still stuck to someone's cheek — it felt like the beginning of something good.