"No… Million… Nejire…"
Tamaki Amajiki—clearly struggling—watched the students' reactions. His serious expression suddenly collapsed. His lips trembled.
"Even if I imagine everyone as potatoes… the parts other than the head are still human…"
"Where should I even look? I don't know what to say…"
The classroom fell into stunned silence.
The gap between his title as one of U.A.'s legendary Big Three and his painfully awkward performance was too much for their brains to process.
Masata studied him with curiosity.
Social anxiety wasn't rare.
But this level?
It was almost artistic.
"Is this senior afraid of people?" Masata muttered. "If we sent Inasa at him, he might actually collapse."
If Yoarashi Inasa were here, Tamaki would probably sink straight into depression.
The whispers in the room only made Tamaki worse.
Cold sweat gathered on his forehead.
Then—
Without warning, he twisted his body sharply and stepped aside, leaving behind a bewildered classmate.
"I want to go home…"
"Senior, you're one of the top elites of U.A., right?" Ojiro asked in disbelief.
The image of a powerful upperclassman had shattered.
It was like the fantasy of a freshman imagining a perfect senior: clean white shirt, fresh haircut, tall and athletic, basketball under one arm, smiling like sunshine—
Only to discover later that said "sunshine senior" was actually a dorm-dwelling gaming addict who survived on instant noodles and possibly wrote web novels at 3 a.m.
The atmosphere teetered on collapse—
Until a bright voice cut in.
"Tamaki! That flea-sized heart of yours is exactly why you're like this!"
Nejire Hado beamed.
She even pinched her fingers together to demonstrate something tiny.
"It's amazing how someone can be so human and still have such a teeny tiny heart~!"
Her cheerful interruption instantly drew everyone's attention.
Unlike Tamaki, Nejire was excellent at speaking.
Very excellent.
Pointing at Tamaki, she declared:
"He's Tamaki Amajiki—though I call him 'Flea-Heart Tamaki.' I'm Nejire Hado! And the three of us were entrusted by the school to explain off-campus activities!"
"So she's the serious one," someone whispered.
"She's so gentle…"
"She really does look like the ideal upperclassman…"
Masata had to admit, first impressions mattered.
In a world where appearances influenced perception, Nejire's bright presence did a lot of heavy lifting.
But then—
He felt two gazes on him.
One was definitely Yaoyorozu.
Ever since the incident with Himiko Toga, her radar for "beautiful girls near Masata" had sharpened dramatically.
The other—
Was Nejire herself.
She'd been staring at Masata almost since entering the classroom.
He smiled politely in return.
In this world, connections mattered. Bonds mattered.
A person alone was boring.
And dangerous to their own sanity.
"Speaking of interesting things—why do you wear a mask?" Nejire suddenly asked Shoji, tilting her head. "Is it fashion? Or are you hiding a cold?"
Shoji opened his mouth—
But she had already moved on.
"Oh! You're Todoroki, right? Is your hair natural? It's so cool!"
"Ashido! If your horns break, do they grow back? Can you wiggle them?"
"Asui! Are you more frog or more toad?"
"Oh! I'm still super curious about Masata! There's a Hero whose ability is similar to yours!"
"Everyone here has such amazing shining points! It's incredible~!"
Her energy exploded across the classroom.
Students sat frozen.
Was she genuinely like this?
Or was there something secretly terrifying beneath that cheerful surface?
Tamaki continued facing the blackboard, as if pretending he no longer existed.
Aizawa-sensei's expression darkened steadily.
The air temperature seemed to drop.
Finally, he turned toward the last member of the Big Three.
"Is this really how it's going to be?" Aizawa asked flatly.
Even one of U.A.'s top three could feel pressure under Aizawa's glare.
Mirio Togata grinned widely, thumbs-up flashing like a beacon of optimism.
"Don't worry, Eraser! I'm the keynote speaker today!"
"Oh?" Masata narrowed his eyes slightly.
So this was the leader among them.
Interesting.
Before Aizawa could reply, Mirio leaned forward, elbow on the podium.
He cupped a hand behind his ear dramatically.
"Future Heroes!"
The class stared blankly.
What was that pose?
Why did it feel like he was auditioning for a children's TV show?
After a long, awkward beat—
Mirio straightened suddenly.
"That was hard! I failed to grab your attention!"
The class collectively deflated.
"These three are kind of… weird."
"Is this really the Big Three?"
"Even the last one feels unreliable…"
The legendary aura Aizawa had described was collapsing rapidly under their unexpected performances.
The image of U.A.'s strongest third-years had just taken a heavy hit.