Introductions

                                    

                                          
Chapter 2: 
As I walked into the classroom, the dull hum of chatter began to die down. The sound of shuffling feet and quiet whispers made me acutely aware of the thirty or so pairs of eyes that would soon be staring directly at me. 
The large classroom was lit with a warm glow, casting faint shadows on the rows of desks filled with curious students who looked ready for another year of training, trials, and everything else that UA had to throw at them. This was my first day as a teacher assistant here, and I was about to introduce myself to the class.
I heard a couple of them talk with excitement as they already were family with who I am. 
My heart pounded as I stepped up to the front, glancing around and catching the gaze of Mr. Aizawa — my supervising teacher, who sat with his arms crossed in the corner, an inscrutable expression on his face. He gave me a slight nod, his dark eyes steady. Somehow, that small gesture gave me the confidence I needed.
"Good morning, everyone," I started, my voice steady but my fingers fidgeting just a little. "My name is y/n, and I'll be your teacher assistant for this year. I'm twenty-two, and some of you may already know me as 'Bulletproof.'"
Just as the last syllable left my mouth, a loud voice rang out from somewhere in the middle of the room. 
"Wait, aren't you that model?" Said a girl with pretty pink skin. 
A ripple of laughter followed the interruption, and a few students murmured excitedly, casting glances my way.  I forced a smile and laughed, trying to shake off the sudden attention.
"Yes, yes, that would be me," I replied, laughing a little. I looked down for a second, hoping the redness in my cheeks wasn't too obvious, before stealing another glance at Mr. Aizawa. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Somehow, his slight amusement calmed me. I returned my focus to the class and continued, addressing the room once more.
"As some of you may already know, my quirk is called Bulletproof. It's exactly what it sounds like. My body has a natural resistance to most types of impacts, which means I can take a lot of hits without much damage." I paused for a moment, noticing that the students seemed genuinely interested, leaning forward a bit to listen.
"But just because I'm bulletproof doesn't mean I don't feel pain," I added, raising a finger as if to make a point. "There's a limit to how much I can take, so I still have to be careful. Just like all of you are learning how to manage and maximize your quirks, I've spent a lot of time figuring out my own."
I could see a few students nodding, clearly relating to the struggles of understanding one's quirks. The curiosity in their eyes shifted into a mix of respect and anticipation.
"As long as you don't give me any bullshit," I said with a slight smile, "I won't give you any bullshit either. Let's work together to make this a good year, alright?"
There was a chorus of murmured agreements and a few scattered smiles. I could feel the atmosphere settling a bit. Then, a hand shot up in the back row.
"Yes?" I called on the student, a boy with wild, green hair.
"What was it like working as a model?" he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. A few students around him giggled, and I noticed several others waiting expectantly for my answer.
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Honestly, it was... interesting. There were some fun parts and some not-so-fun parts. But it's different from what you'd expect. It takes a lot of discipline, like training for anything else." I shrugged, hoping they'd drop the subject quickly, but I knew the look in their eyes. This wasn't going to go away that easily.
"It was a good experience, though. I learned a lot about myself," I added, quickly trying to bring the focus back. "But that's all in the past now. Right now, my focus is on helping you guys." I gave a half-smile, trying to close that chapter of the conversation before it spiraled into endless questions about my past career.
"Any other questions?" I asked, scanning the room and seeing the hesitant but curious faces of students still unfamiliar with me.
A boy with white spike who looked like an angry Pomeranian finally spoke. 
"So what the hell are you here for" 
You raised an eyebrow because half of you wanted to educate him on what a teacher does. And the other half wanted to strike him down. 
A boy with glasses and a serious expression raised her hand. "What are you going to be helping us with?"
"Good question," I replied, nodding approvingly. "I'll be assisting Mr. Aizawa with various training exercises, helping keep track of your progress, and giving some one-on-one guidance for those of you who need it. My role is to support you however I can. If you need help with quirk development, understanding how to apply your abilities practically, or if you're just having a rough day, I'm here for that, too."
The girl nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response. A few more hands shot up, and I tried to answer as many questions as I could. Most of them were typical: what school I went to, how I discovered my quirk, and why I decided to leave modeling for a teaching role.
"Honestly, I just felt that this was where I belonged," I explained. "The world of hero work is something I've always admired, and helping future heroes develop their potential seemed like the right path for me."
The classroom fell into a thoughtful silence, and I could sense that my words were starting to resonate with them. I took a moment to glance at Aizawa again. He looked almost pleased, which, coming from him, was practically a standing fucking ovation.
Then, just as I was about to wrap things up, a student with a mischievous grin raised their hand. "If you're bulletproof, does that mean you don't have to worry about getting hurt at all?"
I laughed, shaking my head. "Like I said, it's not quite that simple. I can take a lot of damage, but I still feel some of the impact. Think of it like... a shield that protects me from the worst of it, but I can still get bruised. So if you're planning on testing my limits, I'd advise against it." I gave the student a mock stern look, and they laughed, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
"Well," I said, letting out a small sigh of relief, "I think that covers most of it. Let's make this year a great one, and remember, I'm here to help. Don't be afraid to come to me with questions, problems, or concerns. My job is to support all of you in reaching your full potential."
As I finished, the class broke into a round of applause — a few students whooped, clearly excited for the year ahead. I felt a mixture of relief and pride, my initial nervousness melting away. Teaching, I realized, might just be the perfect fit for me.
I glanced over at Aizawa one last time. He gave me a slight nod, his expression approving, and I couldn't help but smile. This year was going to be an adventure, and I was ready for it.