We're all seated.

Classroom locked in a familiar kind of stillness. The kind right before something explodes or Bakugo starts yelling.

Both are possible.

Everyone's chatting in their little pairs. Sero and Kaminari are whispering like they've got insider info. Jirou's watching them with the same look I give microwaves that spark. Iida is trying to organize people by desk alignment for "proper battle readiness."

Izuku is calm.

Too calm.

He's sitting next to me, doodling something innocent in the corner of his notebook—probably not the blueprint for emotional devastation but I know better.

He passes me a folded note under the desk like this is a high school drama and not the buildup to Cold War: Quirk Edition.

I unfold it.

In his scratchy, chaotic writing:

"Prepare for chaos."

I blink.
Then flip it over.

"(Also don't forget the vents. We go in at 13:45.)"

I blink again.

A cough behind me. A shuffle of movement. Then—

Aizawa steps in.

Silence drops like a guillotine.

He doesn't say anything at first. Just walks slowly toward his desk like the crypt keeper of disappointment. He sets down a tablet, yawns into his scarf, and finally speaks:

"Today's training will be a special Hero vs. Villain exercise."

No reaction. Yet.

He scrolls something on his tablet. His tone is flat. Unbothered. But my brain is already replaying Nezu's voice in the hallway.

War Game.

Aizawa continues.

"You will all be working in pairs. One pair of villains. Everyone else, heroes. You will not be told who the villains are. You'll only know your own assignment."

The room shifts.

I feel it like static.

Mina's whispering "oooooh," Tsuyu tilts her head slightly. Bakugo's scowl deepens by several degrees, which I didn't think was scientifically possible.

Sero speaks up. "Wait, so you're not gonna tell us at all?"

"No," Aizawa says simply. "That's the point. It's not just about fighting anymore. It's about deduction. Mistrust. Planning. Team cohesion under pressure."

He lets that hang for a beat before adding, with cruel precision:

"And this isn't a one-and-done simulation. We'll be rotating the villain role throughout the week."

Silence.

Not the fun kind.

The kind where you know Kaminari just did math in his head and realized statistically speaking, everyone is going to betray someone.

"You'll all get a chance to be the villains," Aizawa says. "Eventually. No one is exempt."

He glances across the room.

"You won't be able to change pairs. That's your only lifeline."

Midoriya is still silent.

So am I.

Because I know.

This is bait.

They made this whole thing to feel like a detective movie with superpowers. Aizawa's practically gift-wrapped it for chaos. People are going to start suspecting each other by lunch.

And I'm partnered with the one person orchestrating the downfall of modern trust.

A note slides toward me again under the desk.

I open it carefully.

"I have six contingency plans. This is so fun. Are you having fun? I'm having fun. >:)"

I close it. Slowly.

Aizawa's still talking, explaining simulation safety rules, damage limits, etc. No one is listening. They're too busy glancing at their partners like they're trying to see into each other's souls.

Uraraka leans toward Izuku with a nervous smile.

"Hey... you're not the villain, right?"

Izuku smiles back with all the sunshine of a well-adjusted honor student.

"Of course not," he says cheerfully.

I stare at him.

He stares back at me.

The note is burning a hole in my pocket.

Aizawa claps his hands once. "We begin after lunch. Prepare accordingly."

The class erupts into chaos and soon lunch time came around.

We joined them.

Midoriya and I carried our trays over like we weren't plotting the slow unraveling of our classmates' trust in each other. He smiled. I didn't.

"Yo! Shoto, Izuku!" Kirishima waved us over, scooting down to make space. "You guys were late!"

I nodded. "Project stuff. Fire involved."

"Literal fire," Izuku added, chipper. "Kitchen might be banned now."

No one questioned it. Honestly, that's the least concerning part of today.

We sit.

Mina leans in immediately. "Okay, be honest—do either of you know who the villain pair is? Like. You two look like you'd know."

I blink. "Statistically speaking, it's probably someone who talks less. Someone who doesn't draw attention. Someone who thinks five steps ahead and plays the long game. Probably someone quiet. Reserved. Slightly unpredictable."

They all stare at me.

I stare back.

"...That describes you," Kaminari says, slowly.

"I wasn't describing me," I lie.

Izuku is silently sipping his tea like he didn't just nudge my ankle under the table for dramatic effect.

Bakugo slams his tray down across from us, growling. "This whole thing's dumb. Like we wouldn't know who the villain is. It's gonna be obvious."

"You think so?" Izuku asks innocently. "Wouldn't that make it too easy to stop them?"

Bakugo scowls. "Tch. Yeah, unless it's a bad villain."

Izuku shrugs. "Or... maybe the best villain would make you think they're a bad one."

His tone is soft, but his words cut.

Everyone glances at Bakugo.

Bakugo's fork dents the tray.

Uraraka stirs her soup nervously. "Wait. So you think someone in this room is... like, pretending to be bad so we don't suspect them?"

"It would be smart," Izuku says, matter-of-fact. "Make people underestimate you. Overcorrect. Guess wrong. If I were the best villain in the class... I'd probably make myself look like the worst."

"Okay but now I don't trust anyone," Sero mutters, rubbing his forehead.

I poke at my food.

"Or," I say slowly, "What if the villain's someone we already expect to explode on instinct? Someone whose emotional instability makes it impossible to tell if they're faking or not?"

More staring.

Bakugo points his spoon at me like a weapon. "Say it. Go on. Say it."

"I didn't say anything," I reply calmly.

"YOU WERE GONNA."

"You said it for me."

Izuku hides a laugh behind his cup.

Mina whispers to Jirou. Jirou frowns and whispers back. Sato stares at his sandwich like it might confess to something.

Mission accomplished.

The seed is planted.

We're surrounded by suspicion, and no one's looking at us.

The villains.

Just how we want it.