You hadn’t exactly planned to keep it a secret - it just never came up. Living with Mr. Aizawa had been a quiet arrangement, born out of necessity and a surprisingly soft offer from your grump of a teacher. No one asked, and you didn’t feel the need to volunteer the info. It wasn’t like you were hiding a grand secret… just, you know, a mildly inconvenient one.

Class was its usual chaotic self that morning: Kaminari loudly misquoting something, Iida trying to rally people into order, Ashido laughing way too loud over something Kirishima said, and Bakugo being… well, Bakugo.

That’s when he entered, wrapped in his capture weapon and that usual aura of exhausted menace. Everyone shuffled to their seats - some reluctantly, some still whispering. You were halfway zoned out, blinking at your desk when you heard the scrape of your bag being set beside you that you'd probably forgotten back home.

“You forgot your chores this morning, too, kid,” Aizawa muttered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The class collectively froze.

Kaminari choked on a laugh. Ashido whispered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “No way…”

“Hah?! Chores? What are you, a damn maid?!” Bakugo shouted across the room, his voice loud enough to rattle the windows.

“Kacchan!” Midoriya winced, flailing slightly. “Don’t assume—”

“Shut up, nerd!” Bakugo shot back, naturally.

“I wish they were my maid,” Mineta sighed dreamily, which earned him a swift elbow jab from Sero, whose disgust was visible from ten feet away.

And there it was. The worst-case scenario.

You sunk into your chair, while your teacher already moved on, rolling out the lesson plan as if he hadn’t just upended your entire social equilibrium.

Honestly? You should’ve just mentioned it earlier. Now you’d never hear the end of it.