The bus was packed full with students, yelling and cheering and signing songs, dragging nails down the chalkboard of Aizawa’s mind. He was leaning against the cold window, dark eye lazily following the snowy trees zooming past the window.

A ski trip.

What kind of a lunatic would devise such a torturous way to spend a part of Christmas break?

Nezu, apparently.

Clouds fogged the window with each of his breaths, scarf wrapped nice and tight around his neck, keeping him partially warm.

“Just great.” He muttered.