Lunch time arrives after fourth period; essentially, it's Tommy's break time. He's decided to hang out a little in Class 1-A's room before he goes and eats something, just leaning on the wall—apparently Lunch Rush's food is good? He'll have to try it.

...Wonder if they make drinks, too; specifically tea. Maybe there's curry.*

After Uraraka's sudden energy about the Sports Festival, Tommy perks his head up. He finally bites the bullet and asks, "What's the uh—what's the Sports Festival like?" He says it pretty softly, in his opinion, but everyone's heads still turn toward him. His hands do not twitch under their gazes, because this is not the ruins of the Community House and he is not so used to living in tundras anymore.

"You..." Mina slowly begins, "you don't know what the Sports Festival is?"

"Well I do, of course," Tommy blatantly lies, "but what's it like? I've never watched it or anythin', I just know the general concept." Hopefully, Aizawa, Yamada, or Kayama will tell him about it later. "Plus, I'm foreign."

"It's rare for someone to not know the U.A. Sports Festival regardless!" Iida immediately states, waving his hands like he's karate-chopping the very air.

"I'll have you know that I was busy—" Fighting a war or three. "—having a life, thank you very—"

"After all," the other overrides, "it's a country-wide event in Japan that is also streamed in other countries! Due to this, the environment is heavily packed with people in a stadium. Students of all classes will be battling in the middle of the stadium, but there may also be other things such as an obstacle course or a teamwork event, so television screens are above the audience! Overall, it allows every U.A. student to showcase their Quirks, so it will be extremely battle-heavy, whether it be physical or not. There are also snack and drink vendors littered about."

...Oh.

"Uhuh," Tommy nods, like his hands aren't shaking and his heart isn't racing, "alright. I get it now. So that's why it's called the 'Sports Festival,' huh?"

"If you're worried about us getting injured or anything," Izuku chimes in, giving him a knowing look, "don't worry! We have Recovery Girl here, so." Tommy distantly connects the name with the person Izuku mentioned that had healed him after the Entrance Exam. His hands tremble a little less.

Tommy nods again when everyone else vouches for Recovery Girl's experience in healing, acutely aware of the cold feeling that curls in his gut, just like the USJ.

He doesn't believe any of them.

Once again, Uraraka suddenly cheers menacingly, raising a fist to the air and rallying everyone else. Sighing, Tommy stretches a little. They're probably gonna keep cheering for a while longer, so he's gonna go eat.

Oh, wait.

He moves towards Koda instead, waving to get the other's attention. If you need space because the cafeteria's too loud, he mentions, you can come to the teacher's lounge. It's not actually that anymore because I claimed it, but yeah. I'll probably be in there, but no one else will unless they're like a teacher or some shit.

Tommy's only offered that because Koda seems either constipated or the personification of anxiety most of the time. Right now is not one of those moments, though, as a rare smile spreads on the other's face, soft on their blockish features. Okay! Thank you!

Tommy nods back. With that, he strides out the classroom, ignoring anyone who's looking at him curiously.

===

When he gets lunch and goes to the teacher's lounge—Lunch Rush makes some damn-good curry, but because of long-lasting starvation effects he can't have more than a plate—the first thing Tommy does is go to the crafting table to replace the signs outside. Now, they read "Tommy Innit's Territory," and the wood's ugly on the polished—whatever the original sign is, but what-the-fuck-ever, those who don't like it can go and fuck off or whine like a bitch for all he cares. He isn't changing it.

Though, besides Koda who Tommy allowed entry to about ten minutes after lunch time had started, there was a large figure standing outside for a few. They'd worn a suit, and Tommy had leaned over a little to see them more, but they'd already moved on.

Eh. Tommy takes another bite of his curry, savoring the taste as he basks in his and Koda's silence. If they didn't need him, then they didn't need him.**

===

"...What the shit," Tommy says, staring out the doors of the classroom and to the fucking crowd of people blocking the only entrance and exit. This is literally like, what, ten minutes after lunch ended? These bitches should be in class by now. Are they boycotting class for whatever teenage rebellion this is?

(Everything is closing in. Everything is closing in. Tommy can see the hand-prints on the walls by students peeking in, eyes on all of them, watching. Watching, waiting, looking for weakness. Any of them could be spies, his mind reminds him. Any of them could be a villain. Nezu and Aizawa and all the other heroes are smart, but villains can be even better, even sneakier—like Eret.

The students morph into pitch black spaces that seem like void—the walls cave in, imploding, collapsing, revealing obsidian—Tommy is fifteen again, hunched over with the old L'Manburg, battered and bruised—and his hope—their hope—grows, grows, grows—

—Eret crushes it with the push of his finger and a laugh.

Tommy blinks, and none of that has happened. He looks at his hands—of course they're shaking again—and remembers that Eret's okay now. She's better now. Learnt what they did wrong. He breathes, body subconsciously shifting closer to the windows, and makes sure Clara's in his inventory.)

At least the others seem just as surprised.

"Wh...W-What's going on?!"

"What business do you have with Class 1-A?"

"We can't get out!" Mineta raises a fist, "What'd you come here for, anyway?!"

Bakugo shoves past Uraraka, Iida, and Mineta. Though, even with Tommy near their path, Bakugo doesn't bump into him. "Scouting out the enemy, small fry," he states, eyebrows already furrowing more than usual. "We're the ones who made it out of the villains' attack. They probably want to check us out before the Sports Festival."

...That makes sense. But do they have to be so aggressive about it? Like Prime, Tommy knows they're jealous, but...

Maybe an improved future or their reputation's on the line? This is practically broadcast everywhere, if what Iida said is true. If they do well, then it's good for them; if they do bad...

Actually, wait. Are they all masochists? Do they want a position in U.A.'s top Hero Course, thinking of it as a joke or an easy class, when this class literally almost died to real, genuine villains that wanted their fucking blood?

Tommy narrows his eyes. No fucking way he's letting any of these shitheads stay in. He'll hold Aizawa's coffee hostage and make the man expel them if that's what it takes.

"...doing stuff like that," Bakugo's saying. The crowd outside shifts, the air changing into something more... weary. Never mind that—is he being diplomatic for once? "Out of my way, extras!"

...Prime-fucking-damn-it. Tommy almost—almost—groans into his hands at the resounding uproar that the mob makes in response. Class 1-A's reputation from the USJ is now fucking gone.

"Stop calling people extras just because you don't know them!" Iida exclaims, doing his hands thing. Tommy almost wants to laugh; like that'll stop him.

A drawling voice, one almost eerily like Aizawa's, comes in. "I came to see what the famous Class 1-A was like," they say, pushing through the crowd, "but you seem pretty arrogant." A head of purple, wild hair appears, paired with eye-bags that could rival Aizawa's. "Are all the students in the Hero Course like this?"

Tommy bristles, just as Bakugo does. (The similarities are uncanny—no, no, no, Tommy is his own person. Tommy is not him. Tommy isn't, he swears; he could've been like Bakugo once, but he isn't. He isn't.) The others wave their hands and heads in denial frantically.

"Seeing something like this makes me disillusioned." The newcomer ends up putting a hand under their head, briefly scratching their head. "There are quite a few people enrolled in General Studies or other courses because they didn't make it into the hero course. Did you know that?

"The school has left those of us a chance." They lower their hand, staring at Bakugo, of which is scowling. "Depending on the results of the Sports Festival, they'll consider our transfer into the Hero Course. And it seems as if they'll also transfer people out."

Everyone in the classroom stiffens—besides Bakugo and Tommy. The latter has a contemplative look on his face, mixed with a frown that mars it.

Their amethyst eye scans the classroom. "Scouting out the enemy? I, at least, came to say that even if you're in the Hero Course, if you get too carried away, I'll sweep your feet out from under you.

"I came with a declaration of war," they end with. Tommy's face relaxes in an instant, inventory open, eye intent on them. They seem to sense the sharp, intense stare, looking right back—and their eyes widen. Surprise? Shock?

It doesn't matter. I came with a declaration of war, they said. Tommy is used to wars.

There's a critical error in what they've said, of which would've passed by Tommy had he not been in wars before and—and brothers with a silver-tongued terrorist. The part where they say, they'll consider our transfer into the Hero Course, may be true, but the sentence after might not.

Tommy wouldn't have mentioned it. After all, he's a kind, considerate guy in his opinion. This also serves as motivation for the class as well as healthy competition, and anything he will say will only make things go downhill like it always does. However—

I came with a declaration of war.

How dare they. How fucking dare they.

Tommy looks at him, expressionless, and keeps staring. "Where is your proof?"

They still. Everyone looks at Tommy. "What—?"

"Where's your fucking proof, that if someone in this class were to under-perform, they'd kick them out? All Aizawa's told the class is that it's a chance for people to shine, and I presume that the other teachers have told you lot that it's both that and a chance to rise the ranks. Who has said that they'll kick a member of the current Hero Course out?"

Taking a breath, Tommy glances at the class; they seem to look at him with a sort of awe. Focusing again in the tense silence, he continues, "If everyone were to do outstanding in this course, yet some of you perform just as well, then who would be kicked out? That's a no-gain situation for Nedzu and the entire world, you know, if they trade a student for another but both did well. It's a shit idea. If anything, it'd disrupt the current dynamics of teamwork that everyone has with the person they've partnered with in hero classes.

"No one has ever said the Hero Course has to be twenty students, either. Adjustments can be made to the classes, you know. This school is filthy fucking rich; of course they've got enough money to spare. Hell, maybe they'll make another Hero Course! They can afford it, and they've already done so with 1-B; they just might not have enough heroes that have the time or will.

"Even if a student in this course can be kicked and that rule is unsaid, have you considered the fucking USJ attack that happened not long ago?" Tommy scowls, emotions erupting higher and higher even as the others around him become uneasier. The air is straining, and he can't breathe—but Tommy is used to that. He isn't sure if this fucker is, though.

"Real, genuine villains came for their fucking blood, and the villains weren't even after them!" He says, loud and clear. "They went after these students when All Might didn't arrive! They could be dead! Can you handle that, the deaths of people you've recently known in the one place you're supposed to be safe? Would you want to trade places for that? I'm not dissuading you, I'm making sure your commitment is genuine.

"So," Tommy begins to conclude, remembering every single damning war he's been through, "is this 'declaration of war' really to everyone's benefit, or is it to cause enough disunity in this course to make it collapse? If it's the latter, then that isn't very heroic, innit? Does that make you worthy of that title, as you have proclaimed here?"

The silence is strung even higher. Mini-Aizawa actually looks stunned, before openly scowling. "And you, yourself, are my prime role-model?"

Tommy laughs. "Fuck no!" He states. "I'm probably the least heroic here! No one is a hero here—not officially, and maybe not even morally! Hell, All Might is number one, but even he could've done some moral wrongs, y'know?" Tommy sighs, relaxing his stance (and ignoring the thoughts of Phil and Techno, because he's already barely managing to not scream.) "All I'm saying is that some are worse or less-deserving than others, and I think you should look at yourself first before slandering others.

"'Cause if you're just as corrupt as the villains you despise, manipulating your words to cause shit," he starts, thinking of brown hair and round glasses and a beanie and a billowing, ripped coat and are we the villains, Tommy? "Then what does that make you?"

He can't fight physically, the mere thought of killing now making something in his stomach curl unpleasantly, but...

You want a cold war? Tommy asks with a silent smile in the dead quiet, all sharp teeth. I'll fucking

Mini-Aizawa flinches. Oops. Did Tommy step on a nerve or go too hard?

Wait—when did Bakugo look that vulnerable and contemplative?! Tommy drops the smile and purses his lips at the sudden fluctuating temperatures, too, discreetly selecting Clara but not taking her out. And some of the students look like they're having a crisis. That... wasn't really Tommy's intention, and it'd be a lot funnier, the expressions their faces are twisting into and this silent chaos he's caused, if it wasn't so serious.

Opening his mouth, Mini-Aizawa manages to start saying "I—"

"HEY, HEY!" Someone shouts, effectively breaking the weary atmosphere. Tommy minutely flinches at the noise, and even more so when someone just—fucking—pops over everyone else's heads? They've got long, spiky white hair and whiter eyelashes just as long, framing their wide eyes and near-nonexistent irises. "I'm from Class 1-B next door! I heard you fought against villains, so I came to hear 'bout it! Don't get so full of yourself!"

Tommy takes a glance at Kirishima to make sure he's still there, and that he didn't just cosplay as an alter ego just for a bit.

"If you bark too much, it'll be embarrassing for you durin' the real fight!" Kirishima 2.0 shouts.

Bakugo, with one last glance at Tommy, just starts making his way through the crowd, the people parting for him. He brushes against Mini-Aizawa, who lets himself be pushed aside, still in his... crisis. Wow, Tommy must've really hit something.

Enraged, Kirishima 2.0 keeps screaming. "You ignorin' me, bastard?!"

"Wait a minute, Bakugo," Kirishima says, rushing to the entrance/exit, "What're you gonna do about all of this?! It's partially your fault that everyone's hating on us!"

Bakugo stops, looking back without fully turning around. "It doesn't matter," he says, but the usual aggression in his voice is a little—off.

"Huh?!"

"It doesn't matter as long as you rise to the top." With that, Bakugo leaves.

"Damn you bastard!" Kirishima 2.0 shouts.

Tommy finally closes his inventory as Kirishima clenches his fist and starts praising how manly Bakugo's reasoning is. The atmosphere finally lifts a little as it's followed by Satou and Tokoyami's agreement, along with Kaminari's protests. The rest of the class seems to focus on them for more comedic relief or something.

Izuku's still staring at Tommy, just as contemplative as Bakugo was. "Cut that shit out," Tommy hurriedly whispers when he nears him, "you're gonna word-vomit everythin' in your head. Plus, you're blinking in like... twenty-second intervals; do you know how scary that is? Your mind's coming up with like a thousand plans or something, I'm sure of it."

"Wh-What?!" Izuku exclaims, fortunately snapping out of it. His face warms into a healthy pink. "Um! I—sorry! It's—"

"Habit, I know," Tommy says. "C'mon, Big Man; go to your next class."

"You. Eye-patch." Oh shit, Mini-Aizawa hadn't left? Tommy looks up, a little flabbergasted at the determined stare he meets. "I'll make sure I'll show you that I'm not a villain. Just watch me."

Tommy watches them leave.

"...Wait," he calls out, maybe a little too late as the thought finally strikes him. "What's your—name... and pronouns..."

Man. Guess he has to wait until the event.

===

Shoto exhales for the nth time, watching the frost come out of his breath. He reduces the cold in his body as much as he can, watching as with every step he takes, his frost breath reduces. He can feel the heat of blood in his face lower, bit by bit.

It might not entirely fade, today—at least, until he goes back to the house and Endeavor makes it fade.

"'Cause if you're just as corrupt as the villains you despise, manipulating your words to cause shit, then what does that make you?" Tommy looked terrifyingly old as he said that, visible eye eerily blank, as if his mouth were forming the words just to get the point across. Shoto hadn't been able to control his sudden burst of emotions properly enough, if the sudden shifting but gradually colder temperatures on his left side were to mean anything.

Quickly, he reins the frost in, biting on his inner cheek hard enough to maybe make a puncture wound. He wasn't fast enough, if Tommy's frown is anything to go by.

Endeavor would beat Shoto for that.

He frowns, pausing for just a moment as he looks at his hands. Shoto forms them into a fist to stop the shaking. His nails dig into his skin; it's grounding.

"'Cause if you're just as corrupt as the villains you despise, manipulating your words to cause shit, then what does that make you?"

If Endeavor is just as corrupt as the villains he despises, doing just as much collateral damage as they would if they were let free, then what does that make him?

If Endeavor is just as corrupt as the villains he despises, making Shoto "train" mercilessly every day, then what does that make him?

An English saying comes to his head: the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Wrongdoings or evil actions are often undertaken with good intentions.

Shoto purses his lips. Would Endeavor's "good intentions" be boosting his reputation and legacy? Then the saying doesn't apply to this, doesn't it.

So if Endeavor is now the villain and Shoto is training to be a hero...

Sighing softly, Shoto continues to walk. Maybe if he rations his lunch money well enough or he steals Endeavor's credit card again, he can afford a camera.

===