Chapter 3: The Eraser's Gaze And Class 1A
The sunlight didn't wake Sherlock; the sound of heavy velvet curtains being drawn back with a violent, rhythmic shuck did. He groaned, burying his face deeper into his pillow to escape the intrusive morning light.
"Young Master Sherlock, it is 6:30 AM," a calm, firm voice announced.
Sherlock didn't move. "Maria, if you close those curtains right now, I will write you into my will as the sole owner of my collection of broken pens. Please. The light is aggressive."
Maria, the head maid of the Sheets estate, stood at the foot of the bed holding a freshly pressed UA uniform like a sacred relic. "I'm afraid the sun doesn't take requests, and neither do your internal organs, which require breakfast. Your father has instructed that you are to be downstairs, fully dressed and ready, in exactly ten minutes."
Sherlock peaked one eye out from under the duvet, looking like a disgruntled cave creature. "Ten minutes? It takes me ten minutes just to negotiate with my left foot to touch the floor. Tell him I've retired. I'm a professional sleeper now."
"He said that if you weren't down in ten, he would replace your high-thread-count sheets with sandpaper to 'encourage a more heroic friction,'" Maria replied with a sympathetic tilt of her head.
Sherlock let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Sandpaper. He's becoming a supervillain. Fine. My soul is being traded for a grey blazer. This is a dark day for freedom."
Scene at the sheet house breakfast table:-
He moved through the house like a ghost. The Sheets mansion was a masterpiece of glass and steel, echoing with a silence that felt expensive. Every footstep on the polished marble seemed to carry the weight of a corporate merger.
Breakfast was a brief, cold affair. Arthur Sheets sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his eyes never leaving a holographic projection.
"The driver is waiting, Sherlock," Arthur said without looking up. "The curriculum for Class 1-A is significantly more rigorous than 1-B. If you fall behind, it won't just be an academic failure; it will be a public relations nightmare for Sheets Industries. The public expects the son of the 'Pulp Princess's to be a paragon. Eat your protein. You'll need it."
Sherlock stared into his black coffee. "I'll try not to let the stock price drop, Dad."
Ten minutes later, he was settled into the back of a black Sheets-Benz S-Class. The luxury sedan glided through the streets of Musutafu, its silent electric engine barely a whisper. Sherlock leaned his head against the cool, armored glass, watching the common commuters huddling on train platforms. He felt like a prisoner being transported in a five-star cell.
As the car pulled up to the gate of UA, the driver, Sato, looked at him through the rearview mirror. "Good luck today, Young Master."
"I don't need luck, Sato," Sherlock muttered. "I need a nap that lasts three years."
As the car pulled up to the gate of UA, Sherlock stepped out and just stood there. The main building of UA, shaped like a giant 'H', loomed over him. He walked slowly, his hands in his pockets. He noticed the high-density security sensors—sophisticated tech, likely outsourced from his own father's company.
He passed a support lab where sparks were flying and a distant shout from Present Mic echoed through the corridor. So much noise, he thought. Even the walls are shouting about heroism. Finally, he found himself standing before a door that was unnecessarily large—the entrance to Class 1-A
Room 1-A:
Sherlock slid the massive door open and was immediately met with a wall of noise that made his eardrums throb.
"Take your feet off the desk! It's an insult to the upperclassmen and the makers of this fine furniture!" Tenya Iida was shouting, his arms moving like rigid, synchronized pistons.
"Hah? Like I care, Four-Eyes!" Katsuki Bakugo snarled back, leaning his chair on two legs. "Which middle school are you from anyway, you damn elite?"
"I am from Somei Private Academy!" Iida replied, standing even straighter. "And your behavior is utterly unbefitting of a UA student!"
Sherlock scanned the room for the "Back-Corner Sanctuary." It was the seat furthest from the teacher's podium, nestled right against the window. He moved toward it, trying to become invisible.
"Hey, you!" Eijiro Kirishima slammed his hand onto a nearby desk, his eyes bright. "You're Sherlock Sheets, right? The recommendation guy! Man, I saw the clip of your entrance; that paper-gliding thing was so manly!
It was like you were surfing the air!"
Sherlock gave a small, polite nod. "Yes. Thank you."
"I'm Kirishima! Let's get along, man! Your quirk seems way more complex than my Hardening!"
"Likewise,"
Sherlock said, sidestepping him. He almost made it to his desk when Mina Ashido bounced into his path.
"Mina Ashido! Nice to meet you! Is it true your family owns that massive tech tower downtown?
Does it have a pool on the roof? Can we go?!"
"It's a pleasure, Ashido-san. And... it's a private facility," Sherlock replied, his voice getting quieter
. He finally reached his desk and slumped into the chair next to Momo Yaoyorozu.
"You're late," Momo whispered, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"I was busy stalling," Sherlock muttered, resting his chin on his palm. "I was hoping for a class of poets. Instead, I got a loud engine, a human explosion, and you."
"And me?" Momo raised an eyebrow.
"You're the only thing keeping the room's average IQ above freezing, Momo," he said softly
A Man leaned against the doorframe, looking like a man who hadn't slept since the Shizuoka era.
The classroom went dead silent as a man with messy black hair and bloodshot eyes crawled out of a yellow sleeping bag at the door. "I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa," the man said.
"The principal thinks 'introductions' build camaraderie. Stand up, name, and quirk. Keep it short."If you take more than ten seconds, I'm cutting you off."
Tenya Iida bolted upright. "Tenya Iida! My Quirk is Engine! I have organic engines in my calves that allow me to run at high speeds! I look forward to learning the rules and regulations with all of you!"
"Explosion," Katsuki Bakugo grunted, popping a small explosion in his palm. "I sweat nitroglycerin. I'll be the only one from this trash heap who makes it to the top. The rest of you are just extras."
"I'm Ochaco Uraraka!" the girl with the bob cut chirped. "Zero Gravity! I can make anything I touch float! I'm here to help support my family!"
Mina Ashido struck a dynamic pose. "Hi, hi! I'm Mina Ashido! My quirk is Acid! I can shoot corrosive liquid from my skin! Let's make this class super fun!"
"Shoto Todoroki," the dual-colored boy said softly. "Half-Cold Half-Hot." He didn't offer a single word more, his eyes fixed on some invisible point in the distance.
"I-I'm Minoru Mineta!" the small boy with purple spheres on his head squeaked, staring intently at the girls' rows. "My quirk is Pop Off! These balls are super sticky! I'm here to... to become popular with the ladies!"
Fumikage Tokoyami stood with a somber air. "Dark Shadow. I harbor a sentient shadow within me. It is a creature of the abyss."
"I'm Denki Kaminari!" a blond boy with a black lightning bolt in his hair grinned. "Electrification! I can discharge electricity, but if I use too much, my brain short-circuits and I become a total idiot for a while!"
"That's not exactly something to brag about," Kyoka
Jiro muttered, tapping her earphone jacks. "I'm
Kyoka Jiro. Earphone Jack. I can channel my heartbeat as soundwaves through anything I plug into."
Eijiro Kirishima slammed his fists together. "Hardening! My spirit is unbreakable! Let's have a manly year!"
Momo Yaoyorozu stood next with poised grace. "Creation. I can manifest any non-organic object from my lipids. I hope we can all strive for academic excellence together."
And Other student also introduces themselvesves And,
Finally, Sherlock rose slowly. "Sherlock Sheets. Paper Manipulation. I manipulate the density, sharpness, and kinetic properties of paper using specialized glazes."
As Sherlock sat down, the class began to digest the introductions.
Midoriya's Internal Analysis: (Muttering under his breath, eyes wide) "Sheets... the Paper Master. If he controls kinetic properties, he could potentially turn a simple sheet into a projectile with the force of a high-caliber bullet! And the density factor—he could create shields as hard as steel but as light as air.
His versatility might even rival Yaoyorozu-san's... and Todoroki's power is just overwhelming... I have to work ten times harder just to stand near them..."
Kaminari (whispering to Mineta):"Paper? Isn't that, like, super weak? One spark from Bakugo and he's basically a walking bonfire, right?"
Mineta (whispering back): "Who cares about the paper guy? Did you see Yaoyorozu? Her quirk uses lipids! That means she has to... you know... eat a lot! I love this school already!"
Bakugo: Paper? Is this a joke? I'll burn his whole deck to ash. He's just another pebble in my way.
While the rest of the class was busy sizing up rivals, Sherlock's mind was on a completely different frequency.
Is the floor heated? Sherlock wondered, staring at a dust mote. If I leaned back at a thirty-degree angle against this pillar, the hoodie would act as a sufficient cushion. If Aizawa talks for another five minutes, I can probably squeeze in a four-minute REM cycle. Why did the school put the windows on this side? The glare is suboptimal for resting…
"Alright," Aizawa interrupted his thoughts, standing up with a tired groan.
"Now that you know each other's names, we have actual work to do. Orientation is over. Follow me.Up Next
Next The First Training Session of Class 1A