You knew something was wrong the moment you stepped into the classroom. The usual neat rows of desks were gone—shoved against the walls like they were trying to escape. In their place stood a line of metal counters, chopping boards, sets of knives, bowls, and a suspiciously large fire extinguisher.

Your classmates were gathered in the middle of the room, staring at the setup like it was a villain attack.

Aizawa dragged himself inside a second later, wearing an apron that said “I Don’t Get Paid Enough For This.”

“Alright,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “welcome to your new elective: Hero Domestic Skills—Cooking and Nutrition.”

A collective groan spread across the room.

You weren’t sure if Denki or Bakugo made the loudest one.

Aizawa continued, completely unfazed by the despair, “As future heroes, you’re going to be living alone, on patrol for hours, and unable to survive on instant noodles alone. So…” He gestured weakly toward the counters. “Today, you’re cooking.”