war of hearts | bakugou katsuki

prologue

There was a time in our history, ancient but not yet forgotten, where clans reigned supreme and kingdoms rose from the ashes of an unmitigated anarchy. From them descend the stories of war and chaos we now know today—

"You get the gist," droned the professor, skipping the lengthy summary as the books were passed around the class. His half mast eyes pinpointed the eagerness of some students and the utter boredom weighing on the faces of others. History was only ever important to a good few, anyway. He still wasn't sure if he was a fan of it himself, and he was teaching the damn subject.

Grunting under his breath as a hand shot into the air, he relented. The placement of the perfectly poised fingers were familiar. He didn't need to see their face to know who had a question.

"What is it, Iida?" he called, flipping to his notes on the new topic.

"Sir Aizawa! Am I to assume this is the English-History assignment you and Professor Yamada spoke of last week?"

"Yes."

Another hand rose, scarred and hesitant, even somewhat quivering as if ready to collapse at a moment's notice if the teacher moved on. He didn't. He nodded to the timid student of his as the boy met his sunken stare with an inquisitive gaze.

"If this is a double class assignment, does it count as one grade or two?"

"I'm getting to that," he said, watching Midoriya sink further into his seat, clearly embarrassed, "but glad to see you care. Some of you should be worrying about this with your current grades."

As Midoriya deflated in relief, his coevals stiffened in fear.

"Here's the set up," Aizawa began, making sure all eyes were focused on him before continuing. "This assignment is based on two things: reading comprehension and historical fact. Your job for my class is to pick historical fact from historical fiction as the author we chose caters to students your age and mixes reality with fantasy to spice things up and keep you interested."

"So the fantasy aspect is for Professor Yamada's class, then?"

"Raise your hand, Kaminari," Aizawa warned dryly, "but yes. There are writing styles and whatnot he wants you to learn and take note of throughout the story. Obviously, we are grading you on separate things, so you'll have two separate grades from this assignment which can help a lot of you who are behind right now. Any other questions before we get started?"

"Do we have to read this trash on our own time?"

"What part of 'raise your hand' did you not hear, Bakugou?"

The temperamental student clicked his tongue in annoyance, not bothering to follow the simple command to the rhetorical question.

"No. This is in-class only as there's just a few weeks left before spring break."

The rise in the class's volume after that statement had him wishing it was already here. It had been a long school year. Not the worst class he's taught, fortunately. He'd never admit it was his favorite to date. Except for that kid, Mineta. Him he could do without for the rest of his days at this institute.

Allowing them to release a modicum of the annoyance that was their youthful energy, Aizawa was soon settling them down with his signature glare. The silent threat of detention—or worse—had everyone shutting their mouths and staring straight.

"Sir? Are there any actually historical figures in this book?"

The professor blinked at a befuddled Midoriya, not surprised he was already flipping through the pages of the novel. That kid had always been fervent in regard to his education.

"Some of the characters have monikers that will help you connect what historical person they're modeled after, other than that its up to you to know the difference—another reason why we chose this novel. Any more questions?"

Sweet and utter silence. If only he didn't have a class to teach, then he'd get some shut eye.

"Alright, let's get started then."