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The teacher reminded him of a fox. Kouki didn’t actually think people like that existed in real life, people who radiated “suspicious person” vibes while stretching their lips up into a fake smile and having their eyes opened only just enough to see a sliver of the world around them, but, well, she [i]was[/i] a villain, after all. As class started and she began opening her mouth to speak, the gray-haired youth pulled his headphones off, letting it hang off his neck. 

He wished he hadn’t. Maybe then he could've just pretended he didn't hear anything.

A self-introduction was fine, but to ask for a topic as heavy as what heroism is? While also going as deeply personal as where their heroic aspirations come from? Good lord, where all teachers here gonna be so direct? It was one thing to tell his parents, but another to tell a total stranger, in a class full of somewhat-strangers. Kouki’s eyes settled into a dark glare as he tunneled into himself, hoping Mako would fuss over other students first and give him time to fake his way through questions he hadn’t yet thought about. Maybe he could plagiarize?

…

Fuck, he couldn’t do it. Except for one person, everyone was either a UA-wannabe or someone whose ideals of heroism stemmed from the purity of wanting to be ‘useful’ to their nation, or just straight-up both. And that one person who had a different thing to say? They were even more cringe-worthy. They want to be a strong? Had Kouki stepped into another dimension here? No way in hell he could repeat what the others had said with any of the same level of r-

That fox-woman’s finger settled onto him, and in that instant, the entire classroom’s attention shifted from the cheery, bubbling, cutesy reindeer girl to him. Yep, he really hated it when people pointed.

Seconds passed, tension building up.

Kouki’s gaze shifted upwards towards the fox-woman. Like ripping off a bandaid. Like pulling out a thorn. The faster, the better.
He stood up, hands slamming onto his desk as he did so. Rather anger or irritation, it was a cold detachment that emanated from his posture, his body tense with restrained violence.

[b]“Sendachi Kouki.”[/b]

He sat back down, the legs of the chair clattering against the classroom floor.

Welp, there went his high school debut.