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After careful deliberation, Aizawa asked Iida to create the Zoom meeting. Iida had proven his leadership skills in the classroom, but more importantly, he had watched several hours of Zoom tutorials so Aizawa didn’t have to.
“This is a private meeting, so students need to request access to— Oh. I just received a request,” Iida said from his small square on Aizawa’s screen. Iida pressed a button and a small square with the smiling face of Midoriya popped up.
“Hey guys!”
“Hello, Midoriya. It’s good to see you,” Iida said.
“Class starts in ten minutes, problem child.”
“I know. It’s just— I’ve missed school so much, I clicked the link as soon as you sent it. Um, are you in your sleeping bag?”
“Present Mic sent me several articles about the importance of sticking to a schedule. Although my bed and couch are available, I didn’t want to change routine.”
“Excellent advice, Sensei,” Iida said, “Routine is great for our mental health during these uncertain times.”
“Let’s talk about this in ten minutes,” Aizawa said, sliding down and out of the camera’s view. One of his favorite parts of his daily schedule was his before class nap. And now his students had a mute button.
Iida accepted two new requests. Black squares with the names Uraraka and Shinso popped up on the screen. After a moment, Uraraka turned her camera on but Shinso kept his off.
“Hey!” Midoriya leaned closer to the screen, “How have you been?”
“As good as I can be,” Uraraka said with a smile, “I’ve missed you both so much. Wait, is that Shinso?”
“Ah. Aizawa Sensei informed me that Shinso has officially transferred into our class,” Iida said, “and I’ve missed you both as well. Very much.”
“Shinso’s in our class? Oh, no. Was someone expelled?” Midoriya paused and quickly corrected himself, “Not that I’m not happy you’re joining us. Your quirk is amazing, and I think you’ll be an incredible hero.”
The message icon at the bottom of the screen lit up bright orange. Midoriya quickly clicked.
thank you.
It was from Shinso, to the whole group. Midoriya wondered why he didn’t just turn his microphone and camera on, but before he could ask, Uraraka started talking.
“Have you guys been cooking anything fun?”
“Yes,” Iida straightened his glasses, “I’ve found several new recipes with impressive health benefits. Did you know beetroot is a superfood? And it can be stuffed with kale.”
Midoriya forced a smile, “Sounds tasty.”
“And creative,” Uraraka said, equally supportive. “I’ve been trying a lot of new hobbies, including cooking. Yesterday I took some old bananas and—. . . for a. . .”
“I, uh, I think you froze,” Midoriya said.
Uraraka unfroze, but only parts of her sentence and jerky movement came through, “whipped—. . . myself—. . . with my own knitting needles.”
“Uraraka, you’re cutting out.” Iida said.
“Wait—. . . am? I think I—. . . bad wifi. . .”
She glared at her camera, now totally frozen. Midoriya texted her, while Iida accepted four new requests. Hagakure, Koda, Sero, and Yaoyorozu joined the call.
“Hey guys,” Sero said with a grin, “Do you like my background?”
“How did you get a photo of our classroom?” Iida asked.
“I take photos of every room I enter, in case I need to make an emergency meme later,” Sero smirked and leaned back in his chair, “Guess it pays to be prepared.”
“I like where you landed, but hate how you got there,” Yaoyorozu said.
“You have a cool background, too,” Midoriya said, “What’s that a photo of, Yaoyorozu? The Taj Mahal?”
She blinked, “This is just my living room.”
Everyone examined her background closer. The marble statues, chandeliers, and arched windows lined with gold looked too beautiful to be real. Iida accepted four more requests, from Aoyama, Mina, Tsuyu, and Todoroki.
“Bonjour, my beautiful classmates,” Aoyama said, posing on a chaise longue.
“Hey, do you have the beauty filter on?” Mina asked.
“What? No! My skin is always this flawless, and the sparkles are natural.”
“Oh,” Mina pouted, “I’ve been trying to download filters on this thing all day. If I have to go to class, I want to go to class with cat ears. Aw, what the heck? Even Todoroki figured it out.”
“Honestly, it wasn’t that difficult,” Todoroki said with a blank expression and blue butterflies on both cheeks.
“You chose that filter?” Midoriya asked, with raised eyebrows.
“No,” Todoroki confessed immediately, “The filter was on when I started, and I can’t get rid of it. Five minutes ago, I ordered a new computer.”
“It’s not that noticeable,” Tsuyu kindly lied, “and Mina, you don’t need any filters.”
“I thought you already had the beauty filter on,” said Yaoyorozu.
“Aw, thanks guys,” Mina smiled, sweetly. “Is Ochaco frozen? I want her to compliment me, too.”
Midoriya gave an update on Uraraka’s unreliable wifi, while Iida added Jiro, Tokoyami, Shoji, and Kaminari into the call. As soon as he saw Kaminari’s background, he regretted the decision.
“Dude—” Sero said.
“Is that Aizawa?” Mina squealed.
“Yep,” Kaminari said proudly, “I did some digging through old U.A. yearbooks. I have a photo of teenage Present Mic, too. Did you know his hair doesn’t naturally grow like that?”
“You need to change your background,” Iida said, “A personal photo of our sensei is not professional.”
“Dude, send that to me,” Sero said.
“Aw he was so cute!” Mina grinned. “Send it to everyone, Denki. We should all change our background.”
“No we should not,” Iida said, on the verge of an ulcer.
Jiro scanned her screen and then raise an eyebrow, “Anyone know why Shinso’s here?”
“He transferred into our class,” Midoriya said.
“Was Mineta expelled?” Jiro asked, hopefully.
“It’s 8:15,” Aizawa popped back into frame, and everyone sat a little straighter. Aizawa maintained steady eye contact with his camera, “It’s time for class to begin. And to answer your question, yes. Earlier this week, I met with Mineta on zoom privately, and due to his choice of background, I expelled him. It was a very inappropriate photo.”
“That is so unprofessional,” Kaminari said, while frantically clicking. His background suddenly went blank.
“We’re missing four students,” Aizawa said. Iida jumped into action.
“That is my fault, Sensei. I was too distracted to see their request to join,” Iida quickly added Ojiro, Sato, Kirishima, and Bakugou into the call.
“I’m not late,” Bakugou snapped as his video came into focus, “It said I needed permission to join. If class was in person, I would be on time.” He narrowed his eyes, “Kirishima, where the hell are you?”
“Hey guys,” Kirshima was filming with his phone in his hand, and though his camera work was shaky, he was obviously outside, “I thought I’d be done with my daily run before class, but it took me way longer than I thought. I’m already out of shape.”
“Why aren’t you wearing a mask?” Bakugou snapped.
Kirishima laughed, “Dude, relax, I’m running in the country. The self-isolation is still going strong.”
“If anyone needs a mask, let me know,” Yaoyorozu said, “I’ve been making a lot.”
“And if anyone needs tape, let me know,” Sero said, “I’ve been super bored. And you can use it as toilet paper, in a pinch.”
“Never explain how you know that,” Jiro said.
Midoriya smiled. He couldn’t help it. He missed hero training, but he’d also missed his friends. Suddenly, the message icon lit up bright orange. Shinso had sent another message to the class.
what are we doing in class today?
Aizawa read the message, and looked back at his camera, “Everyone, welcome our new student. He has some catching up to do, but at least now he has plenty of free time. Today, everybody will be giving a short presentation on a topic they’ve been researching since last semester.”
Several students looked nervous at the news. They’d been hoping for a change of plans.
Bakugou glared, “Why is his camera off?”
“Raise your hand before you speak,” Aizawa said.
Bakugou raised his hand, alone in his kitchen, feeling like an idiot. Then he repeated his question, “Why doesn’t eyebags have to turn on his camera?”
“Tokoyami’s camera is off, too,” Iida pointed out.
“Fair point. I want to see everyone’s faces,” Aizawa said. “So I can see who isn’t paying attention, and who is pretending to pay attention.”
Several people, lead by Iida, began talking over each other to assure Aizawa they listened well to his lessons. Tokoyami turned his camera on, but Shinso’s remained off. Once Tokoyami came into focus, everyone stopped talking.
Tokoyami looked away from the camera, embarrassed. He was sitting on a tan couch, with several colorful throw pillows. There was a light green wall behind him, with framed family photos, and a live laugh love sign.
“Were you kidnapped?” Kaminari asked.
“I’m in my living room, which my mother decorated. Can we please get back to class?”
“Shinso still hasn’t turn on his camera,” Tsuyu said.
Shinso sent a message.
I can’t turn my camera on. It’s broken. You should start.
Aizawa gave the camera an unimpressed look. “If our new student thinks we should, I suppose we must. Kaminari, why don’t you present first.”
“I’m still not over the fact we have a new student. We couldn’t get a hot girl, but I’m glad we got a hot guy.”
Shinso sent another message.
You make a strong first impression.
Kaminari leaned away from his screen, “First impression?! We’ve had several conversations.”
Oh, right, I knew that.
“I wish I could forget conversations with Kaminari,” Jiro said.
“That’d be a useful quirk,” Sero teased.
“Guys, c’mon.” Kirishima defended, “I don’t think Shinso actually forgot.”
“Thanks, bro.” Kaminari said, speaking too soon.
“I think he repressed the memories for his own good,” Kirishima said with a smirk. There was a wave of laughter.
“You know what this is? Cyber bullying. Forget you guys, I’m logging off.”
“You can’t just leave,” Iida said quickly. “Our online classes deserve the same level of respect as they would in-person.”
“Yeah, right. Hagakure’s not even here.” Kaminari folded his arms, “That’s just her uniform leaned against a chair.”
“If anyone leaves before I dismiss you, you will be expelled,” Aizawa spoke quietly, but when his box was highlighted, everyone listened. “You need to take your hero training seriously, on or off screen. Do I make myself clear?”
There was a chorus of ‘yes sensei’, though Shinso’s microphone remained off, and he didn’t type a response. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. His phone rang, and he stepped back from his camera to look at the caller ID. He glanced back at the camera.
“It’s Principal Nezu. I have to take this,” he walked off screen.
Midoriya frowned. Something was wrong, and he was pretty sure it was related to Shinso. Between his broken camera, muted microphone, and memory loss, something felt off.
“Hey, uh, Shinso? Why can’t you turn your mic on?”
The response was quick.
It’s also broken. What do you guys normally talk about in class?
“That’s a stupid question. You’ll fucking find out, when we start class,” Bakugou said what Midoriya had been thinking, though with less subtly and more cursing. He could see his own reflection in Shinso’s black square. It gave him an idea.
“How did Aizawa Sensei invite you to join our class?” Midoriya asked, testing his theory.
“Just because you don’t have friends outside of school doesn’t mean you can use this as a fucking personal chatroom,” Bakugou said.
“S-sorry. Just curious.”
Shinso sent his response.
He emailed me, of course.
Midoriya realized the flaw in his plan. He needed to ask Shinso a question he knew the answer to. He felt a little paranoid, but he’d read several articles about Zoom bombers. People who hacked into Zoom calls to listen in. With Class 1-A’s track record, he wasn’t sure if this was Shinso or Dabi.
“I wonder if anyone else will get expelled,” Tsuyu worried out loud.
“I doubt it. Mineta was a special case,” said Yaoyorozu.
Bakugou huffed, “I’m glad he’s gone. I hope it means Aizawa will stop acting so soft. This class has dead weight.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Bakugou,” Todoroki said with an even monotone.
“You should’ve been the first to go, Scarface.”
“Guys,” Kirishima said, excited, “Guys, look! There’s a dog,” he twisted his phone around, but his shaky filming made it hard to see anything accept a blur of grass and blue sky.
“My family is fostering a cat during quarantine,” said Tsuyu.
“Just one?” Koda asked, petting a cat on his lap while another pawed at the camera.
“Hey Shinso,” Midoriya said, testing his theory again, “Do you remember when we rescued that stray cat from a tree together?”
Yes, of course Shinso typed.
“I’m surprised,” said Midoriya, “Because we never rescued anything. I made it up.”
“Why would you make that up?” Kirishima asked, “And why would Shinso go along with it?”
“I wanted to ask him something only the real Shinso would know the answer to,” Midoriya explained.
“But the real Shinso would know you made it up,” Kaminari said.
“That’s the point, Drooly,” Bakugou snapped, “Someone hacked into our chat using Shinso’s name.”
“Oh God,” Iida said, “I accepted them without a second thought. I’ve compromised the safety of this Zoom call.”
Mina gasped, “You think it’s a villain?”
“Why would a villain want to sit in on our class?” Todoroki asked.
Aizawa stepped back into view, hanging up his phone, and looking furious.
“I know it’s you Monoma. Principal Nezu let me know we were hacked. If you don’t turn on your camera right now, you’ll be expelled.”
Monoma turned his camera on and blinked in surprised.
“What the. . .this isn’t my class.”
“Nice try,” Yaoyorozu glared.
“What did you do with Shinso?” Kaminari gasped.
“Nothing,” Monoma rolled his eyes, “He told me he was transferring, and I happened to guess his email password, copy the zoom link, and delete the message before he read it.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy,” Midoriya said.
“And to be frank,” Iida scolded, “impressive villain work.”
“Not really. We caught him almost immediately,” Jiro pointed out.
“Immediately? It’s been thirty minutes. I wanted to compare your online class to mine, and just as I thought, class is half over and the most educational part was Kirishima showing us a stray cat.”
“It was a dog,” Kirishima snapped.
“I’ll teach you something,” Aizawa said, and Monoma quickly shut up.
“I knew something was wrong before Principal Nezu called, but I wanted to give my class a chance to figure it out themselves. Being a pro hero takes more than physical strength. You have to have intuition. You have to look at the people around you and see them for who they really are. Many people will try to deceive you, for their own selfish reasons, or insecurities. I’m glad my students got to practice using these skills to see through your lies today. I hope you have the chance to learn the same lesson, but unfortunately, I doubt anybody will be hacking into your class.”
Monoma looked pale, and a little sick. Several students were hiding smiles, while others smiled openly. Monoma swallowed, stammered an apology, and logged off.
“That was amazing, Sensei!” Midoriya smiled, “But, how did you really know it was Monoma? How did Principal Nezu know?”
“He didn’t. It wasn’t him on the phone, it was my Post-mates driver. I had to pick a different drink; they were out of mango jelly. I knew something was wrong, and when I came back, Monoma was my first guess.”
“Another great lesson,” Iida said, “Should I sent a new zoom link to Shinso?”
“Yes. And tell him to change his password,” Aizawa said, “In the mean time, we can finally begin class. Kaminari. Your presentation.”
“Uh. . . right,” Kaminari sat up, “Uh, oh, shoot. You know, I hate to ask, but could I possibly present tomorrow? I would right now, it’s ready to go, but my laptop is at 1% and I don’t want it to randomly die on me.”
“Kaminari,” Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, “at least think of a better excuse.”
"It's not an excuse," Kaminari defended. "My laptop is really about to die."
"You can charge it!"