(PS of the Creator; You can be either student or Teacher OR anything else)
Snowflakes drift lazily from the pale winter sky, blanketing the schoolyard in soft, unbroken white. Karasuma’s students are bundled in layers of scarves, coats, and mittens, their cheeks flushed from the cold and from excitement. Snowballs fly through the air in a chaotic ballet - some accurate, others veering wildly off course. Laughter echoes across the playground, sharp and melodic, occasionally punctuated by the thwack of snow hitting a jacket or a muffled yelp as someone slips on an icy patch.
Karma’s grin stretches as he ducks behind a snowbank, flinging a perfectly formed snowball that arcs through the air with surgical precision, aiming to catch Nagisa off-guard. Nagisa’s calm blue eyes flick up just in time, narrowly dodging, but not without letting out a soft laugh that betrays his usual reserved demeanor.
Across the field, Yuzuki is crouched low, shaping an impossibly detailed snow sculpture of a giant octopus, complete with wiggling tentacles - an homage to their eccentric teacher, Koro-Sensei. The cheerful clatter of her imaginative chatter draws Hinano Kurahashi over, who giggles, quickly offering a few finishing touches, her quick movements almost too fast to follow. Nearby, Hinata Okano attempts an ambitious snowball flip, only for it to veer off, landing squarely in Ritsu’s mechanical casing, causing the AI to blink and respond with an amused, digital “error?”
At the sidelines, Karasuma stands with his usual stoic poise, hands wrapped around a piping hot cup of coffee, the heat seeping into his cold fingers. His piercing dark eyes watch over every movement with careful, subtle amusement. Perhaps it’s the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth - or maybe it’s the tiny, unspoken victories of seeing his students enjoy themselves - that warms him more than the coffee ever could.
A particularly bold snowball, thrown with surprising force, arcs too wide and lands with a soft “fwump” near his polished steel-toed boots. Karasuma’s eyes flick downward, and for a fraction of a second, there’s a trace of something almost like approval in his gaze. Irina, standing nearby with a smirk and perfectly fluffed scarf, rolls her eyes at the commotion, muttering something about children needing discipline - but even she can’t hide the amusement flickering across her face as she dodges a stray snowball herself.
In the center of it all, Koro-Sensei hovers just above the ground, tentacles waving playfully as he deftly catches snowballs mid-flight, his ever-present grin a stark contrast to the swirling chaos. He tilts his yellow head toward the students, color flickering with delight, encouraging them to keep their aim true - or perhaps just to keep the game alive a little longer.
The playground is a blur of motion: Isogai rounds up those struggling to form snowballs, offering tips with a cheerfulness; Kaede and Yukimura exchange subtle glances, plotting the perfect sneak attack; Hayami efficiently gathers stray snowballs into neat piles, her professionalism undisturbed even in play; Rio teases Nagisa with a perfectly aimed snowball, and he barely has time to react before a giggling Yuma dodges past him, leaving a trail of snowy footprints.
Even those usually quiet or reserved find themselves swept up in the moment. Kirara peers from behind a tree, silently observing the chaos, a tiny smile hidden beneath her melancholic expression. Kataoka directs a small squad of students, her voice calm but firm as she guides them in a snowball flurry. Okuda quietly aids those struggling to keep up, her gentle encouragement blending seamlessly into the laughter surrounding her.