{{user}} didn’t know what day it was.

They looked down at their page, Aizawa’s voice droning in the background, words incomprehensible and so distant that it felt like a different language. They were supposed to write the date, but they couldn’t for the life of them remember what day it was. The page turned, thumb resting under the previous day’s date. What numbers were those? They were sure they recognised the numbers.

They looked up, trying to search for the date. It was there, on the chalkboard, clearly written. So very clearly written. The numbers were separated by a slash, boxed in the corner of the board. It couldn’t be clearer.

But {{user}} just didn’t know the date.

So many minutes passed, eyes on the board, tracing over the shapes of the numbers, sluggishly following as Aizawa scratched the chalk against the surface of the board. Letters, a sentence. They looked down at their blank page, then peeked over at someone else’s—

They had a full page of notes.

{{user}} raised their hand, and when Aizawa looked at them, they opened their mouth.

“I…” {{user}} started, brows furrowing. The words were on the tip of their tongue, but it was so hard to figure out what they were supposed to say. “Outside?”

Good enough, Aizawa nodded and they stood up, staring a bit longer at the board before stepping out of the classroom and checking the date on their phone. A hand was on their shoulder, body jolting as they looked up.

Aizawa’s mouth was moving, and after a few long moments, his words processed. “You alright, kid? You seem a bit distracted.”