Lunch in the cafeteria brought the practical exam right back to the front of everyone's minds.
Megumi set his tray down at the end of the long table, watching Kaminari dump an enormous pile of deep-fried chicken and rice onto the bench across from him.
"Alright," Kaminari declared, shoving a mouthful of rice past his chopsticks. "The written test is basically finished."
"You haven't answered a single question yet," Jiro pointed out from the seat beside Yaoyorozu. "You just joined a group."
"Mental victory, Jiro. Half the battle is confidence."
"The other half is not getting a zero."
Mina dropped down next to him, propping her elbows on the table. "I'm still fretting over the practical. Aizawa didn't give us a single clue about what we're fighting."
"He said it was comprehensive," Uraraka said from further down the table. "That means combat, rescue, mobility, basically everything.
"That doesn't narrow it down at all," Ojiro sighed.
Megumi ate quietly, letting the conversation wash over him.
A comprehensive exam could mean whatever the U.A. faculty wanted it to mean. Single-elimination matches, urban rescue scenarios, hazard clearing, or simulated villain suppression. Trying to build a rigid plan around zero information was a waste of energy.
A loud clatter echoed from the aisle behind them.
Megumi looked up just in time to see Monoma Neito from Class 1-B swaggering past. His elbow clipped the back of Midoriya's head with deliberate clumsiness.
"My mistake," Monoma said, spinning on his heel with an exaggerated, theatrical gasp. "Your head was so enormous that I simply couldn't maneuver around it."
Midoriya rubbed his neck, startled. "What was that for?"
Megumi looked back down at his soup.
'Here we go again.'
Monoma placed a dramatic hand over his heart, raising his voice so half the cafeteria could hear him. "I hear Class 1-A managed to drag themselves into yet another disaster during internships. First the USJ, then the Sports Festival, and now the Hero Killer in Hosu? It must be exhausting, constantly hoarding all the public attention while the rest of us actually focus on our curriculum."
Down the table, Iida's left hand tightened slightly around his chopsticks.
Megumi set his bowl down, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Monoma.
Before Monoma could keep grandstanding, a heavy chop slammed directly into the back of his neck.
The strike sounded like a piece of dense lumber snapping. Monoma's eyes rolled up, and he crumpled flat onto the table with a soft groan.
Kendo stood behind him, shaking out her enlarged hand with an exasperated sigh. "You're embarrassing the entire class. Stop picking fights over lunch."
She grabbed the collar of Monoma's uniform, dragging him backward across the floor like a sack of groceries. She looked over at Class 1-A with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about him. He's been like this all morning."
"No apology necessary," Iida said, adjusting his glasses. "We understand his temperament."
"He's an idiot," Kendo corrected bluntly. She paused, glancing between them. "Wait, were you guys talking about the practical exam just now?"
Several students leaned forward.
"Yeah," Sero said. "Do you know something?"
Kendo lowered her voice slightly. "An upperclassman friend told me that the final practical is almost always combat against large automated robots. Basically the same concept as the entrance exam, just with adjusted terrain and higher point thresholds."
Kaminari went completely motionless.
Mina froze right beside him.
They turned their heads toward each other in slow, synchronized disbelief.
"Robots?" Mina whispered.
Kendo nodded. "That's what they've done for the past few years."
Kaminari leaped straight onto the bench, throwing both fists toward the ceiling. "WE'RE SAVED!"
"I CAN MELT AS MUCH STEEL AS I WANT!" Mina cheered, slamming her hands against the table.
Half the cafeteria turned to stare at their table.
Shoji tilted his head. "Your main issue was holding back your Quirks against human targets."
"Exactly!" Kaminari shouted, pointing at him with broad, trembling grins. "Robots don't complain about third-degree burns! I can let out max voltage and nobody files a lawsuit!"
"You'll still short-circuit your own brain into mush," Jiro noted.
"A minor detail!"
Sero leaned back, grinning widely. "Man, if Yao-momo and Fushiguro can drag those two through the written test, we're all going to the training camp."
Megumi picked up his chopsticks and took another bite of rice, entirely unbothered by the sudden celebration.
Across the table, Jiro caught his neutral expression. "You don't look relieved."
Megumi swallowed. "It's secondhand information."
Kendo looked back over her shoulder, still holding Monoma by his collar. "You think my upperclassman is lying?"
"No," Megumi said. "I think they told you what happened to them."
"And?"
"That tells us what U.A. did last year," Megumi replied evenly. "It doesn't tell us what they're doing this year."
Kaminari's smile vanished. "Why would they change a system that works?!"
"I don't know."
"Then why assume they did?!"
"I'm not assuming anything," Megumi said. "That's the point. You're building a whole strategy around an assumption."
Kaminari stared at him, completely horrified by the logic.
Kendo stared at Megumi for a second, then nodded slowly. "Actually... that makes a lot of sense. Thanks for the reality check."
She hauled Monoma out of the cafeteria without another word.
Mina groaned, dropping her head onto her arms. "Fushiguro, why do you always have to be the voice of doom?"
"It's practical," Megumi said.
Jiro leaned her cheek against her knuckles, watching him with a dry look. "You came back from Kyoto even more paranoid than when you left."
"I spent a week getting hit by people who didn't give me the answers beforehand," Megumi said. "It makes you look at things differently."
"Still," Jiro said, taking a sip of her tea. "The uniform looks better."
Megumi paused for a fraction of a second, glancing down at his sleeve before looking back up at her.
"Thanks."
Jiro blinked once, looking mildly surprised that he had accepted the compliment without deflecting it. She quickly looked down at her tray, picking at a piece of vegetable with her chopsticks.
Kaminari slammed both hands on the table, trying to regain control of his mood. "I refuse to let Fushiguro ruin my dream. As far as I'm concerned, we are fighting giant tin cans until Aizawa drags one into the room."
Megumi shrugged. "Then train for robots."
Kaminari grinned.
"And train for people," Megumi added.
Kaminari's face completely fell. "I hate you."
Sero choked on his soup, coughing into his napkin while Mina groaned into the table.
...
The robot theory survived for less than three hours before Bakugo violently tore it apart.
They were copying down a series of organic chemistry formulas off the board when Kaminari made the fatal mistake of whispering to Mina that the practical exam was going to be an easy sweep.
The legs of Bakugo's desk screeched horribly against the linoleum.
"WILL YOU MORONS SHUT THE HELL UP ABOUT THE DAMN ROBOTS?!"
The entire classroom froze.
Bakugo stood up so fast his chair tipped onto its back legs before slamming flat. The clean, parted hairstyle Best Jeanist had forced on him was completely gone; his hair had returned to its jagged, aggressive spikes, and his red eyes were blazing with furious irritation.
Kaminari threw his hands up defensively. "Why are you yelling at me?! Robots are objectively easier to deal with!"
"Which means you're already planning to scrape by on the bare minimum, you lazy extra!"
Small, crackling sparks snapped across Bakugo's open palm. "If you can't control your damn Quirk against living targets, then figure out how to do it! Don't sit there crying with joy because you think the school is gonna hold your hand!"
Mina pointed a finger at him. "You have a really weird way of giving constructive advice!"
"DIE!"
Bakugo's glare ripped away from Kaminari and snapped directly onto Megumi.
The air in the back row shifted immediately.
Megumi didn't move. He rested his pencil against his notebook and met Bakugo's stare.
Bakugo's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding audibly. "And you."
"What?" Megumi asked flatly.
"Don't act like the Sports Festival didn't happen."
Megumi held his gaze. "I wasn't even thinking about it."
A thick vein popped against Bakugo's temple. "THAT'S WORSE!"
From the desk behind him, Kirishima reached out a hand. "Bakugo, calm down, man. We're in the middle of class."
Bakugo slapped Kirishima's hand away without breaking eye contact with Megumi. "You beat me by an inch because I overextended on the ring edge. Then you vanish off to Kyoto for a week and come back swinging around on frog tongues like Tape-Arms."
'It's a toad...'
Sero raised a single finger. "I really don't like catching strays here."
"SHUT UP, TAPE-ARMS!"
Sero slowly lowered his hand.
Bakugo took a heavy step toward Megumi's desk, pointing directly at his chest. "Finals are scored individually. There's no bracket. No terrain gimmicks. I'm taking the top score in the practical, and I'm blowing past whatever number you put up."
Megumi considered the declaration for a second.
"Okay," Megumi said.
Bakugo's eye twitched violently.
"Okay?" Bakugo snarled.
"Yeah."
"That's all you've got to say?!"
Megumi tilted his head slightly. "What else do you want me to say?"
"I WANT YOU TO ACT LIKE YOU ACTUALLY CARE, SHADOW BASTARD!"
"I care about passing," Megumi replied evenly. "Your score doesn't change mine."
Across the aisle, Todoroki looked up from his chemistry notes, his mismatched eyes tracking the argument.
Bakugo caught the movement and instantly snapped his head around. "AND DON'T THINK YOU'RE SAFE EITHER, HALF-AND-HALF!"
Todoroki blinked, completely neutral. "I was just writing down the formula."
"YOU'RE ON THE LIST!"
Kaminari leaned across his desk, whispering behind his hand to Jiro. "He's literally collecting rivals like trading cards."
"Gotta catch 'em all," Jiro whispered back dryly.
Bakugo's head whipped toward them with frightening speed. "I CAN HEAR BOTH OF YOU!"
Jiro didn't even flinch. "Good to know your hearing works."
A ripple of muffled snorts went through the room.
Bakugo looked like he was about to set his entire desk on fire when a dry, tired voice cut through the doorway.
"Bakugo."
The entire room snapped rigid.
Aizawa stood in the open doorway, a stack of graded worksheets tucked beneath one arm. His dark eyes swept the room with utter exhaustion. "If you damage school property three days before finals, I'll deduct the replacement cost directly from your practical score."
The sparks in Bakugo's hands died instantly.
He glared at Megumi for one more second, kicked his chair straight, and dropped heavily into his seat with his arms crossed over his chest.
Aizawa walked toward the podium without another word. "Page forty-two. We have three more reaction mechanisms to cover before the bell."
Megumi picked his pencil back up and went back to his notes.
Kirishima leaned over the aisle, keeping his voice low. "You know he's been stewing over that match since the festival, right?"
"I figured," Megumi murmured.
"You could give him a little more reaction. It might keep him from exploding."
"Reacting is what keeps him yelling. If I didn't react to him the classroom would've already been blown up."
Kirishima stared at him for a second, then let out a helpless chuckle. "Yeah. Fair point."
From the desk ahead of him, Jiro let out a quiet breath that sounded remarkably like a suppressed laugh. Megumi caught the slight dip of her shoulders, but kept his eyes on the board.
...
By the time the final bell dismissed them for the day, Yaoyorozu had transformed the vague concept of a study group into a military-grade schedule.
Megumi stopped beside her desk on his way out, staring down at the multi-colored breakdown she had mapped out across three separate sheets of paper.
Subjects. Sub-topics. Time blocks. Five-minute transitions. Break periods. Review quizzes.
"You made a minute-by-minute itinerary..." Megumi noted.
Yaoyorozu looked up, suddenly anxious. "Is it too rigid? I wanted to ensure we covered every weak area without wasting daylight."
"No. It's fine," Megumi said. "It's just thorough. Maybe too thorough"
Jiro walked over, slinging her strap over her shoulder and reading the pages upside down. "You scheduled fifteen minutes specifically for tea service."
Yaoyorozu looked concerned. "Would twenty be more appropriate?"
"Fifteen is fine, Yao-momo," Jiro said with a faint smile. "I'm just teasing."
Sero popped up behind them. "Is there a designated block for crying under the table?"
"Kaminari has that booked for the entire afternoon," Megumi said.
"Hey!" Kaminari protested from across the room as he shoved three binders into his bag. "I'll have you know I am going to ace this test and demand absolute respect from all of you."
"Good luck with that," Jiro replied without looking up.
Megumi pulled a pen from his pocket and looked down at the subject breakdown. Yaoyorozu had assigned herself almost everything, which was going to burn her out before lunch.
"What are your strongest areas?" he asked her.
"Classical Japanese, modern literature, world history, and chemistry," Yaoyorozu answered promptly.
Megumi drew a neat line through the math and physics columns and initialed them. "I'll take math, physics, and basic science. Jiro needs quadratics. Mina needs formulas. Sero can take classical Japanese with you, and Ojiro can split between math and history."
Yaoyorozu looked at the revised distribution, her shoulders relaxing noticeably. "That's much more balanced. Thank you, Fushiguro."
"It'll keep people from sitting around doing nothing."
Jiro tapped the edge of the math sheet with one of her earphone jacks. "So Fushiguro's handling quadratic functions."
"Looks like it."
"Just make sure you actually explain the steps," she said, glancing up at him. "Don't do what you did during rescue training yesterday."
Megumi frowned slightly. "What did I do yesterday?"
"'The tension holds, so I pull,'" she quoted, perfectly mimicking his flat tone. "That was your entire explanation to Sero when he asked how you managed swinging on tongues your first time."
"It was an accurate description of what happened."
"It wasn't an explanation."
Sero nodded slowly from behind her. "To be fair, man, I had no idea what you meant until I watched the replay."
Jiro shook her head, though there was a faint smirk playing around her mouth. "See? Terrible teacher."
"You asked for help," Megumi pointed out.
"A momentary lapse in judgment."
Megumi almost cracked a smile. He caught himself before it showed, tucking his pen back into his pocket. "Friday afternoon, then."
"I will message everyone the address and train routes tonight." Yaoyorozu said, gathering her papers into a crisp leather folder.
The group began filtering toward the door, their usual banter echoing down the hallway as they debated what kind of snacks to bring to a millionaire's house.
Megumi stayed behind for a moment, sliding his notebooks into his bag.
Kaminari and Mina were putting all their chips on the rumor because it was comfortable. Bakugo was focusing entirely on raw output because he wanted to crush everyone in front of him.
Neither approach made sense.
If U.A. wanted to test their growth after the USJ and the Sports Festival, giving them predictable targets was the last thing the teachers would do.
'Prepare for what's in front of you,' Megumi thought, adjusting the strap across his shoulder. 'And leave enough room to adapt when they flip the board.'
"Fushiguro."
Megumi looked toward the door.
Jiro was standing by the frame, one hand in her blazer pocket, waiting.
"You coming, or are you sleeping in the classroom?"
Megumi stepped into the aisle. "Coming."
He followed her out into the bright afternoon corridor, falling into step with the rest of the class as they headed for the front gates.
One week until finals.
He would be ready.
...
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