the things that you might like don't grow inside of me

Seijin did not agree with him.

A night owl by default, Arata was only half awake as he made his way down one of many wood paneled hallways that made Seijin distinct from other academies. It wasn't exactly a new problem. While elementary school hadn't been much issue so far as Arata was able to remember his waking hours had slowly shifted closer and closer to midnight as he'd entered and gone on through middle school, as luck would have it right around the time that such institutions began to become more strict with the expectation that their students would start acting more like adults. Mind, that perception was entirely relative from Arata's point of view, but it didn't at all come as a surprise that Seijin was just as strict if not more so when it came to student discipline.

So, here Arata was, clad in a uniform he did not find remotely comfortable and making his way to his assigned classroom for the first day of the semester.

Not that it was the uniform's tailoring that got to Arata. Same as it wasn't the bit about being forced to be awake so early in the day. The discomfort went quite a bit deeper than that, but to let his mind wander to the why of that would be to let it go down a deep and dark rabbit hole he'd feel even less comfortable exploring. So, as Arata approached the sliding door marked as his destination the teen would shove all of those thoughts down into as deep a pit as he could and reach to open it, pausing with a small blink of surprise as he noted that he was... somehow the first one there?

No, that wasn't entirely true. More accurately - and against common sense - it would've been more appropriate to say he was the first student. Towards the front of the classroom and having evidently been waiting with her gaze expectantly fixed on the door was a woman that Arata could only assume to be the class teacher.

"... morning." Arata said after a moment of pause, moving into the classroom and leaving the door open behind him for any other students on their way. They couldn't be far behind - while Arata was a few minutes early on account of being a quick eater he couldn't have imagined his morning-zombie self would've gotten there ahead of everyone. He was plenty awake now as opening a door and becoming immediately aware of someone watching you tended to have that effect, though. Rather than introduce himself or try to strike up conversation, though, Arata would move to take first dibs on a desk towards the back of the classroom.

There'd be time enough for that later. Judging from the teacher's appearance and apparent age Arata couldn't help but assume that this was likely her first year teaching, and a good number of those in the profession seemed to get a kick out of parading students in front of the class one at a time for introductions. All the more likely with Seijin's team-centric focus, at least from what his family had told him.

Sakiya Hanzo Kazuyuki Shiratori Yoko Cuthbert

the things that you might like don't grow inside of me

If nothing else the next several minutes would give Arata the opportunity to wake the rest of the way up, the early morning grogginess leaving his body. Not that it would be readily apparent to anyone around him as it was replaced instead by something that looked quite similar - a general sense of apathy as Arata found himself having to physically resist the urge to lean forward or slump over the desk until class began. Whether or not it was a better feeling than the sense of nervousness and anxiety he was getting from the other students slowly beginning to fill up the room was a question entirely open to debate. On the one hand that was a kind of stress that Arata was very happy to do without... but on the other it implied that they had motivation he didn't, and despite how long his family's history with the school went back it just wasn't something Arata could really make himself care about.

He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do with his life yet, true, and an argument could be made that Seijin would prepare him for whatever he chose to do. But graduating would mean likely getting sucked into the family tradition that followed, and part of Arata found himself prickling at having that decision made for him.

And then everyone was there, or at least enough that class could start as the teacher began speaking. The initial announcement of a pop quiz sent murmurs of surprise through the room, although that was quickly offset as a joke before she started getting into actual course focus and introductions. The mention of a teamwork focus almost immediately put a damper on his already fairly unenthused mood. Were this a regular high school or the like? Arata would've been fine. But hero courses were different, with all cards on the table - and that included active and relatively free uses of one's Quirks and challenges designed with that in mind. Arata was perfectly content with what he was physically capable of but in a Quirk focused environment he was going to be the weak link in any team based challenge - and the more you brought a group of people down with your suck the more they tended to resent you for it.

With that in mind the year was already off to a good start.

Her name, though, was not one that Arata recognized off the top of his head, although it wasn't the one he cared about - her hero name, a stage name. Not the real one or the actual person they'd be speaking to behind the mask or performance. Under normal circumstances he would've had nothing but questions in a setting of casual conversation, but this wasn't the time or place. Not with what followed as Sarasaki pulled out a marker and whiteboard that was to begin making its way around the room. The first student she passed it to was the boy sitting immediately in front of her who would introduce himself as one Shiratori Kazuyuki, his Quirk being Flurry. What followed after that was fairly stock affair in the sense that he was a normal kid, same as anyone else there. As was his closing statement - that he wanted to be a pro hero.

To anyone else in the room those words may have sounded obvious. It was natural to assume that everyone who was there wanted to be there, especially with the entrance exams most hero schools made mandatory. Arata, though, wasn't going to knock it. Right off the bat that gave Shiratori more reason for being there than he had, and presumably the motivation to make it work.

Many of the students that followed were much the same and of similar motivations. Some were, to an extent, things that Arata could even empathize with. "My family members are heroes". "I have a goal". "I want to help people". A lot of ideals and good ideas, although the more and more people parroted the line or motivations held within the more he couldn't help but wonder how many were simply going with what seemed like the right thing to say or sidestepping the mistake of voicing more selfish endgames. Plenty of people entered the industry drawn by promises of wealth, fame and glory, and statistically speaking Arata didn't believe for an instant that not one of his fellow classmates harbored such motivations.

With almost twenty people to go through and given the path the whiteboard was taking Arata couldn't help but place an elbow on his desk, leaning forward to rest with his cheek propped up against his knuckles - not that he realized he was doing so until at least a couple of minutes after the fact, though. Given where his seat was in one of the back corners of the room he was likely going to be dead last on introductions, although that brought his attention to the next student that stood out.

In many ways she wasn't unlike the other students and the sense of anxiety that seemed to permeate the room all but exuded off of her as well - although something about it felt a bit more distracted than the others. As she started to introduce herself, though, Arata couldn't help but immediately take note of her name. It was an odd mix of both a Japanese given name but a foreign surname, and unlike many of the other students in the room she'd introduced herself with her given name first. Had she been raised overseas? With the small horns on her head that came straight out of Japanese myth and folklore the irony wasn't lost on Arata, and even before Cuthbert came to her Quirk there were a dozen questions swimming around in Arata's head - about the same as usual, really. Before too long, though, her introductions were over and the whiteboard had made its way through another several students before finally arriving to him.

Eyeing the small white rectangle of plastic with well hidden annoyance as it was passed onto his desk, Arata bit the bullet and reached for the marker to quickly scribble something onto the board before standing up - a picture of a very poorly drawn handheld gaming system scrawled across it for lack of anything else that Arata felt like sharing having come to mind.

"My name's Iwatori Arata. My Quirk is Reflection. It stops things. I like cooking, gaming and reading. Here's hoping we get along." Arata said, staying as succinct as possible as he stayed on point and kept his voice clear and audible before sitting down and handing the board to the student ahead of him to be passed back to the front of the room. With any luck that'd keep things simple. All anyone seemed to care about these days were hero names, and while his relatives weren't even remotely well known outside of the school's teachers and other alumni those were still expectations Arata could very well do without.

Sakiya Hanzo Kazuyuki Shiratori Yoko Cuthbert