The day of the USJ trip had arrived, and the excitement in the air was palpable. My classmates were buzzing with anticipation as they gathered outside the school, waiting for the bus that would take us to the training facility. I, on the other hand, was less than thrilled.

A bus... seriously?

I stared at the worn-out, dusty vehicle parked in front of us. The sight of it made my skin crawl. The idea of squeezing into that filthy, cramped space with the rest of the class was simply unacceptable.

Aizawa-sensei, standing nearby with his usual deadpan expression, noticed my hesitation.

Aizawa: Midoriya, what's the holdup? Get on the bus. We don't have all day.

I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow as if he'd just suggested something utterly ridiculous.

Me: Get on that thing? You must be joking. There's no way I'm setting foot in that... that death trap.

Aizawa sighed, clearly not in the mood for my antics.

Aizawa: "t's a bus, Midoriya. It'll get you to USJ just fine. Now stop being difficult and get on.

I crossed my arms, refusing to budge.

Me: I'm not getting in that thing. It's filthy, outdated, and probably a breeding ground for germs. I have standards, Sensei.

Aizawa's eyes narrowed, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Aizawa: We're not here to cater to your standards. This is a school trip, and you're going to participate like everyone else.

I let out a dramatic sigh, shaking my head in mock disappointment.

Me: You really don't get it, do you? I'm not like everyone else. I don't have to settle for mediocrity.

Before Aizawa could respond, I pulled out my phone and made a quick call. Within minutes, the sound of an approaching engine caught everyone's attention. A sleek, luxurious bus, complete with tinted windows and polished chrome, pulled up beside the old school bus.

My classmates stared in awe as the doors of the luxury bus opened, revealing plush leather seats, ambient lighting, and more legroom than they'd ever seen in their lives.

Me: Now this... this is how we should travel.

Aizawa looked at the bus, then back at me, his expression a mix of irritation and resignation.

Aizawa: You can't just do whatever you want, Midoriya. There are rules—

I waved a hand dismissively, already heading towards the luxury bus.

Me: Rules are for people without options. This is what happens when you have money, Sensei. Now, are you going to keep arguing, or are you going to enjoy a comfortable ride for once?

The rest of the class didn't need any more convincing. They quickly abandoned the old bus and began filing into the luxurious one, chattering excitedly about the upgrade.

Aizawa sighed again, rubbing his temples as he realized he'd lost this battle.

Aizawa: I don't get paid enough for this.....

I smirked, leaning back in one of the leather seats as I watched the rest of the class settle in.

Me: Of course not, Sensei. I'm just... providing a better option.

Aizawa didn't respond, but the look he gave me said everything. He knew he couldn't win against my money, and deep down, he probably didn't mind the comfort either.

This was how things should be—luxurious, comfortable, and completely on my terms. The others could pretend to care about the school's rules, but I knew the truth.

Money rules everything. And as long as I had it, I could make the rules.

A/N: Sorry that it's a bit short, I didn't had time to make it longer.... Sorry TT.TT