MHA 2025!

The common room of Class 1-A's dorm was usually a scene of controlled chaos, but on game night, it transformed into a vibrant, if slightly unhinged, arena. It all started innocently enough. Someone, likely Kirishima, had suggested a weekly game night to foster "manly bonding." Initially, it was all wholesome fun: charades where Bakugo just yelled prompts, Pictionary attempts that looked like abstract art, and low-stakes card games.

But, like any system of controlled joy, it spiraled. Someone introduced "Hero Charades," which devolved into a tangled mess of impersonations where Bakugo ended up mimicking All Might's laugh, much to everyone's amusement and horror. Then came the "Truth or Dare" variant, where the truths became increasingly outlandish and the dares more chaotic. One time, Sero ended up covering the entire room in his tape, while another time, Mineta somehow convinced Tokoyami to sing a lullaby.

Last night, however, was the night of the infamous "Ultimate Hide and Seek." It started with a simple enough premise: hide within the dorms and don't get found. The students, fueled by sugary snacks and competitive spirits, treated it more like an epic raid than a game. Furniture was moved, closets were ransacked, and Midoriya, bless his heart, had somehow managed to camouflage himself as a potted plant. The noise volume crept higher with each shriek of discovery and victory.

The turning point was when Tsuyu, while hiding in the laundry room, accidentally triggered the washing machine into a high-speed spin cycle. The resulting cacophony was a blend of rattling metal and panicked squawks. That, it seemed, was the final straw.

Aizawa-sensei, a man who thrived on sleep and detested disturbances, made a thunderous entrance. His eyes were redder than usual and his hair was somehow even more disheveled. He surveyed the scene, the chaotic aftermath of their game night, his singular eye twitching in irritation. He didn't yell, he didn't need to. His voice was a dangerous calm, "Class 1-A. Detention. Five weeks."

The usually boisterous class fell silent. Even Bakugo seemed stunned into submission. Game night, it seemed, had gone from a bonding activity to a five-week sentence to contemplate the consequences of their actions. The only sound was the soft hum of the still-spinning washing machine and the regretful sighs of a class who had pushed their fun just a little too far.