TheFanficGOD
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Patreon Exclusive— Welcome to U.A. Lil’ Sprouts Division- Part 1
🕑 Added 2025-04-18 14:15:07 +0000 UTC
U.A. Kindergarten – Hero Track A
Lil’ Sprouts Division
Time: Too early for this crap.
Aizawa stood at the front of the most cursed room in the building, silently sipping burnt coffee out of a chipped mug that read “I tried.”
Colorful foam letters on the wall shouted “WEE ARE HEROS IN TRAINING!”
He stared at the typo.
He stared through the typo.
"...This is my hell."
Before he could consider flinging himself out the window, the door slammed open like the Kool-Aid Man owed it money.
“GOOD MORNING, ERASERRRR~!” Present Mic bellowed, jazz-handing his way into the room like this was a daytime talk show and not a room full of emotionally unstable toddlers.
“Why,” Aizawa deadpanned, “are you yelling.”
“First day, bro! Gotta bring the vibes!” Mic beamed.
“I’d rather bring a shovel. To dig my grave.”
Enter: Chaos.
First one in the door was Izuku Midoriya, a mop of curly green hair and panic in overalls. His backpack was comically oversized—he could’ve lived in it—and he wobbled three steps in before full-on emotional meltdown.
“MY MOM SAID I’M SPECIAL BUT I DUNNO WHAT THAT MEANSSSSS!” he sobbed, collapsing face-first onto a bean bag like it had personally offended him.
Snot. Tears. Existential dread.
Aizawa stared, unmoving. "...This is why I keep eye drops in both eyes."
Then the door got kicked open like a toddler SWAT raid.
"MOVE, PUNKS!" screamed Katsuki Bakugo, storming in like he paid rent.
There was nobody near him..
He immediately punched the art station, grabbed a red crayon, and tried to ignite it with his hand.
Fizzle. Spark.
Boom.
The finger-paint table exploded like it owed him lunch money.
“HAHA! EXPLOSION!” Bakugo howled, proudly holding up what was now a molten wax blob.
“Don’t eat that,” Aizawa said.
Bakugo paused. "...But it’s red flavor."
Before anyone could answer, a desk rolled into the room.
Rolled. As in, it had wheels.
Behind it came Momo Yaoyorozu, dressed like a CEO in a preschooler’s body. She parked the desk beside Aizawa’s, popped open her suitcase, and pulled out a color-coded snack chart.
“I submitted a revised schedule to optimize fruit-to-cracker ratios,” she said seriously, fixing her ribbon.
Aizawa stared. “You’re four.”
“I’m aware,” she said, and began adjusting the seating layout with graph paper.
Then came Toru Hagakure.
Or rather… didn’t.
Her name tag vanished from the wall. The juice box on the counter floated.
Then someone sat down, and a voice whispered, “That was my chaaair…”
“AAAAAHH!” Izuku shrieked, diving under a bean bag. “THE GHOST TOOK MY BLANKIE!”
Aizawa didn’t even blink. “Hagakure, wear your clothes for at least five minutes.”
"I am! Kinda! Okay, not really," came the voice from nowhere, followed by aggressive slurping.
The door creaked open.
She hopped in wearing a frog hoodie five sizes too big.
Paused. Blinked.
Saw Izuku crying.
"Ribbit. Too much water. Frogs will drown. Must avoid."
She bounced to the bean bag corner and whispered, "Frogs don’t scream this much..."
Ojiro kicked in the door accidentally by tripping on his own tail.
"SORRY! I’M SORRY! MY TAIL HAS A MIND OF ITS OW—SORRY AGAIN!"
He whipped around, knocked over a stack of blocks.
"S-s-sorry again!”
Aizawa sipped his coffee. "Tail."
"I KNOW."
Then came the goth.
Fumikage Tokoyami shuffled in, hoodie zipped to his beak. He didn’t speak. Just found the darkest corner of the room, sat cross-legged, and pulled a frayed blanket over his head like a tiny cryptid.
Sat.
Pulled a ragged blanket over his head.
Started drawing bats.
Murmured, "Dark Nap begins."
No one questioned it.
The door creaked open.
A beat.
A shuffle.
And then, dragging a plush bat by the wing, wearing a hoodie two sizes too big and a sippy cup in hand that definitely smelled like cold brew, Ryuu Midoriya trudged in.
He looked around once.
Crying Izuku. Exploding Bakugo. Invisible giggles. Frog muttering. Desk CEO. Tail tornado. Blanket goth.
“…I hate it here,” he announced.
He dropped his bat on the carpet like a mic drop, walked up to his brother, and shoved something into Izuku’s tiny, trembling hands.
“A rock?” Izuku sniffled.
“That’s Greg,” Ryuu said. “Greg doesn’t cry. Greg has opinions. Talk to Greg. He’s smarter than most of you.”
Izuku blinked at the rock. “…Hi, Greg.”
“Good.” Ryuu plopped down beside Tokoyami’s void corner, face-down on the carpet. “System, log this day as a threat.”
Aizawa’s eye twitched. “You are a brat.”
Ryuu raised a thumb without looking up. “Emotionally? I’m thirty-two and unionizing.”
Then the door opened one last time.
In walked Principal Nezu, clipboard in paw and tail swishing like he was about to assign extra homework.
“Good morning, children!” he chirped.
Ryuu squinted at him. “Who let the lab rat out of his maze?”
Momo gasped. “Ryuu!”
Nezu’s ears twitched.
He stared directly into Ryuu’s soul.
Then smiled—and scribbled something on the clipboard.
Ryuu frowned. “Did the hamster just put me on a list?”
“He’s not a hamster,” Ojiro whispered.
“He’s Furry Einstein,” Ryuu replied. “And I don’t trust any animal in a tie.”
Aizawa looked out across the battlefield.
Izuku was whispering secrets to a rock named Greg.
Bakugo had now successfully set a cotton ball on fire and was using it to “brand” paper airplanes.
Toru was in the coat closet, invisible and definitely up to crimes.
Momo was drawing emergency evacuation routes.
Tsuyu was curled up muttering frog wisdom into a stuffed amphibian.
Ojiro was still apologizing to his own tail.
Tokoyami had started planning a funeral for crayons.
Ryuu was sipping cold brew from a baby bottle and muttering about wage theft.
And Nezu was still smiling.
Then Present Mic popped his head in.
“How’s it going, Eraser?!”
Aizawa didn’t even look up.
"I’ll have your resignation letter by lunch."
“Yup.”
Mic nodded, saluted, and disappeared again.
Aizawa picked up the clipboard, sighed like it weighed a thousand regrets, and said:
“…Alright, brats. Time for roll call.”
[System Notification]: Roll Call Initiated. Chaos is now in session.
This is only Day 1. Aizawa’s soul may not survive Day 2.
Comments
TheFanficGOD
Lol, joke writes itself
The_Flexorcist
Tot Toru the type to try and hide something by holding it and turning around, forgetting she's invisible
TheFanficGOD
How about both?
hector lyng
If it weren't for the gifts, the class would be horrible, but since the gifts are involved, all the daycares are either at the maximum hell level or at the apocalyptic level. I don't know which is worse.
TheFanficGOD
He is joking with Aizawa. Because Aizawa looks like he gave up on life, Present Mic says, Will I see your resignation letter? Aizawa deadpan, says yes. Exaggerated joke.
hector lyng
Who's going to resign?? Present Mic???
Marvin Baltes
well we have the normal novel just a lot more chaos: let´s see where this brings us
