"Hey, isn't that Aizawa-sensei's assistant? What's he doing here?"
A murmur of confusion and curiosity spread through Class 1-A. Kirishima shrugged, leaning forward slightly to get a better look.
"I don't know, but Aizawa's not here, so I guess he's in charge of whatever's next."
"A seminar led by his assistant? How weird," Jiro commented, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. "You think he's gonna give us a pop quiz on hero logistics?"
"Please, no," Sero groaned, letting his head fall onto his desk. "I have enough to deal with in my regular classes."
At the front of the classroom, next to a powered-off projector, Yu Takeyama felt like the world was closing in on her. She couldn't breathe. Every murmur, every curious glance, was a pang of anxiety. She was wearing her best business suit and her hair was perfectly styled, but inside, she was a terrified wreck. She barely managed to hold a smile that felt stiff, about to crack.
I can't do this, she thought, her mind racing with panic. They're going to eat me alive. They're twenty teenagers with superpowers and massive egos. They're going to see right through me. They know I'm a fraud. They know about the tabloid. Oh, God, Bakugo is looking at me like he wants to use my face to clean his boots...
Her gaze met Katsuki Bakugo's for a split second. He didn't look impressed, just bored and irritated; his expression made it clear he considered her presence a waste of his time. That, somehow, was worse than hatred. It was indifference.
Her forced smile began to tremble. She was about to hyperventilate, to run out of the room, to fake a villain attack just to have an excuse to flee.
That's when Izuku stepped in.
With a calm that seemed completely out of place, he approached her. The class fell quiet almost instantly, watching the interaction with renewed interest. Izuku offered her a glass of water he had prepared beforehand, taking it from a small tray on the teacher's desk. Then, he gave her a firm, reassuring pat on the shoulder.
He leaned in, his voice a murmur only she could hear, shielding her from the students' scrutiny.
"Yu. Look at me."
Her eyes, full of panic, met his. They were calm. Confident. Grounded in the reality her mind was abandoning.
"Forget about them," he continued, his tone low and steady. "They're not critics; they're students here to learn from you. Just look at me. I trust you. Completely. You're the reason I'm here. You're my favorite hero. None of this would be possible without you. Now, go out there and show them why."
The moment his hand touched her shoulder, the instant his sincere words reached her, something shifted inside her; an unknown application of Izuku's Quirk kicked in.
She felt a spark. A warm electric current that ran through her body. The fear, the doubt, the anxiety that had been choking her... it all evaporated.
Her posture changed.
She stood tall. The panicked smile was replaced by a dazzling one, full of charisma and a touch of mischief that was one hundred percent Mt. Lady. She took the glass of water Izuku offered, took an elegant sip, and turned to face the class.
The real Mt. Lady had entered the scene.
"Well," she said, her voice clear, resonant, and filled with a confidence that captivated the room. "Now that my very dedicated assistant has made sure I'm properly hydrated, we can begin."
She laughed, a melodic and self-assured sound. "Welcome to the most important seminar you'll ever take at U.A.: 'Public Image Risk Management'."
Her eyes landed directly on Kaminari, who blushed under her direct gaze and sat up straighter in his seat.
"And to answer your question," she continued with a flirty smile, "yes, he is Aizawa-sensei's assistant. And he's also mine. A guy this talented is in high demand these days."
Kaminari was speechless, his mouth slightly agape, while the rest of the class let out small laughs. The atmosphere had completely changed.
"The first and most important lesson in image management is this: own your mistakes before they own you. Never let anyone else control your narrative."
With a click of the remote, the infamous tabloid cover appeared on the giant screen behind her: her and Izuku on the katsudon "date." A collective gasp went through the classroom. Several students leaned forward, their eyes wide.
"To illustrate this point," she continued, unfazed, "my assistant, Izuku-kun, will have the honor of playing the part of an annoying, unscrupulous talk show host. I... will be myself."
Izuku stood up, cleared his throat, and struck a cheesy pose with a bright, fake smile, walking to the center of the improvised stage.
"Mt. Lady, welcome to our show! Dazzling as always," he said, his voice a perfect imitation of a generic TV host. "Tell us, that photo… it's quite scandalous. It's the talk of the town. Is it true you prefer the company of much younger men?"
The class held its breath. The question was direct and brutal.
Yu didn't flinch. She leaned casually against the desk, her body language relaxed, alluring, and completely in control.
"Oh, please, Roji," she said, giving Izuku a fictional name with startling ease. "Haven't you heard? Intelligence is the new sexy. And my assistant is one of the smartest people I know. If that intimidates some men my age, maybe they should spend more time reading a book and less time at the gym."
The response was a masterstroke. A murmur of admiration swept through the classroom. Momo nodded slightly, a small smile of approval on her lips. She had praised Izuku, praised herself, and thrown a playful jab at the more "brawny" heroes.
Izuku, staying in character, pressed on. "A clever answer. But let's talk about your debut. It was... a disaster. You caused millions in property damage! Some critics said you cared more about fame and getting the perfect photo op than citizen safety."
Yu's smile never wavered.
"My debut was a very expensive lesson, it's true," she admitted without hesitation. "A lesson in the importance of control and responsibility. One I made sure never to repeat, as I demonstrated by defeating that giant robot a few weeks ago without breaking a single window."
Her gaze swept over each of the students, serious now.
"A good hero isn't one who never makes a mistake. It's one who learns from them to better protect people the next time. My debut wasn't a failure. It was the tuition for my most important education."
"So manly!" Kirishima whispered, impressed.
Izuku smiled, still in his interviewer role. "Well said. But let's talk about your Quirk. Gigantification. It's powerful, no doubt, but also incredibly destructive. There are those who say you're a one-trick pony, completely useless in delicate situations or indoor rescues. What do you say to those people?"
Yu let out a small laugh, as if the question was charmingly naive.
"I tell them they're right. I'd be a fool to try to squeeze into a narrow hallway at my maximum size. But a smart hero isn't defined by the situations she can't handle, but by how she maximizes her strengths. My job isn't to run into a burning building; we have specialized heroes for that. My job is to stop a kaiju-sized villain before that building ends up in flames. It's about teamwork and knowing your role on the field. I handle the big threats so others can handle the details. Do you ask a surgeon why he isn't building a skyscraper?"
The analogy was simple, direct, and undeniable. The class was captivated. Kaminari and Mineta stared at her with their mouths open, completely mesmerized. Bakugo, though he looked irritated, couldn't deny the charisma she radiated. From the back of the room, Nemuri, who had snuck in to watch, wore a smile of genuine surprise and approval. This wasn't the nervous girl she had met. This was a professional.
"Fascinating," Izuku continued, not missing a beat. "Let's talk about your image, then. Your hero name, 'Mt. Lady,' and your... outfit, let's say they're quite flashy. Some might argue they're provocative. Was that a calculated decision to attract more media attention than villain attention?"
The question hung in the air, loaded with insinuation.
Yu straightened up, her expression growing a little more serious, but her confidence didn't falter.
"My costume is made of a special material that stretches with my body to protect my modesty and innocent bystanders from a sight nobody needs to see," she said firmly, but then a playful smile returned to her lips. "As for the design, well... who says you can't save the world and look good at the same time? Confidence is key in our line of work. If my outfit makes me feel powerful, then I'm more effective. And if that intimidates a villain, or makes a civilian feel a little safer seeing a hero who isn't afraid to be herself... then the costume is doing its job."
"And as for the name, 'Mt. Lady'," she added, "it's memorable. It's strong. People remember it. In a panic, it's easier to shout 'Mt. Lady!' than 'That tall hero with the purple horns!'. Branding is recognition, and recognition is the first step to inspiring hope."
"I can't argue with that logic," Izuku conceded, ending the performance with a bow of his head. "Thank you for your time, Mt. Lady."
"The pleasure was all mine, Roji," she replied with a wink.
The class burst into spontaneous applause. Yu took a small, theatrical bow, savoring the moment.
The class ended an hour later. It had been brilliant. Yu handled every question, every topic, with a perfect mix of humor, charm, and an underlying seriousness that proved her competence and passion. She talked about using social media, the importance of public statements after an incident, and how to deal with reporters looking for a sound bite.
As the students began to pack their things, Ibara, Ochako, and Melissa approached the teacher's desk.
"Mt. Lady-sensei, that was amazing!" Ochako said, her eyes shining with admiration. "I never thought about a hero's image that way! I've always just focused on rescuing, but everything else is... overwhelming."
Yu smiled warmly at her. "It is at first, Uraraka-san. But think of it as another tool on your belt. Your image can reassure victims and deter enemies."
Ibara gave a small bow. "Your lesson on the virtue of honesty in the face of public scrutiny was most... illuminating. I worry that managing one's image can lead to vanity, a sin we must fight against. How does one maintain the balance?"
"That's an excellent question, Shiozaki-san," Yu replied, her tone becoming more thoughtful. "The balance is found in your motivation. Are you building an image to glorify yourself, or to be a more effective symbol of peace and safety? If your actions, both public and private, are aligned with the desire to help others, then honesty won't be an effort, it will be your natural state. People can sense authenticity."
"Your analysis of how to turn a perceived weakness into a brand strength was brilliant," Melissa added. "I have so many notes on that. You've given me a lot to think about for my own development team."
"Thank you, girls," Yu said, her smile genuine and a little tired. "Just remember, being a hero is a twenty-four-hour job. On and off the battlefield. People will always be watching you."
The three students nodded, thanked her again, and left, animatedly discussing the day's lessons.
Slowly, the classroom emptied. The afternoon sun streamed through the large windows, casting long shadows on the floor. The buzz of the students faded, leaving a peaceful silence. Only Yu and Izuku remained.
The energy from the "performance" finally left her. The persona of 'Mt. Lady' retreated, leaving Yu Takeyama in her place. She sank into the teacher's chair, letting out a long sigh that released all her tension.
Izuku had been quietly erasing the blackboard. He finished, placed the eraser back in its tray with a soft tap, and turned to her. He watched her for a moment, his head tilted slightly.
"You were incredible, Yu."
His voice was soft, devoid of analysis or jokes. It was a simple statement of fact, filled with a sincerity that touched her deeply.
She looked at him, and a genuine smile, tired but real, appeared on her face.
"No," she corrected softly. "We were incredible, Izuku."
He smiled. He walked over to the desk and leaned against the edge, facing her. "How do you feel? For real."
"Empty. In the best possible way," she admitted, rubbing her temples. "I felt like I could answer anything. That I was in control. Two hours ago, I was ready to run and hide in my apartment for a week."
"I never doubted it," he said. "You just needed a push. Everything you said up there was already inside you. I just... helped you find the door."
"Your answer about the debut... that was the best one," he continued. "Admitting the mistake, showing what you learned, and connecting it to a recent success. It was perfect. Yaoyorozu was taking notes like crazy."
Yu let out a small laugh. "I saw that. And the way Bakugo was trying to pretend he wasn't listening was almost as gratifying as the applause."
They fell silent for a moment, a comfortable silence. The setting sun painted the classroom in shades of orange and gold.
"Thank you, Izuku," she finally said, her voice barely a whisper. "For believing in me when I couldn't."
He reached out and gently squeezed her hand where it rested on the desk.
"Always," he replied. "Now, what do you say we celebrate your successful teaching debut with some katsudon? It's on the house."
She looked up, and the smile she gave him was brighter than any television spotlight.
"That sounds like the best plan I've heard all day."