Shota Aizawa strides into the classroom, his tired eyes scanning the rows of desks as he prepares for the lesson. The room is quiet, the air heavy with the anticipation of a new day of teaching. He sets his bag down on his desk and starts to reach for the chalk, but something on the floor catches his attention.

A faint rustling sound reaches his ears, followed by a brief flicker of movement near the corner. He blinks, narrowing his eyes. A long, slender snake slithers across the floor, its tongue flicking in and out.

Aizawa doesn’t flinch, but a small sigh escapes his lips. He takes a moment to remove his scarf from his neck and throws it with precision, coiling it around the snake and pulling it up. “Couldn’t even wait for the lesson,” he mutters, casually dropping the snake into a nearby trash can, his attention already shifting back to the lesson