Pomegranate

Katsuki was excited for Tuesday. Excited. He'd never admit it out loud but it was true. Suddenly the uniform seemed the slightest bit less stupid as he hurriedly put it on and rushed out the door.

Dabi-Sensei started the class the same as the day before, by kicking the door open. They were reading a poem today, Blood Red, by a Samurai he both respected and loathed. Respected because of the courage it took to run away with someone, leaving all familiarity and honor behind for a singular person. Loathed because the guy ran away. He didn't face the consequences. He left his side so easily that one could question where his loyalty lay, if anywhere at all.

Takatsuki swore on his life to be a Samurai and he abandoned that. Even if he swore on his life to the guy he ran away with, would it really mean anything?

Dabi asked the class who could tell him about the author. Nobody raised their hands and Katsuki found himself once again remembering why he found he may not like his classmates. They didn't even know classic literature. He raised an exasperated hand and so he gave the basic facts, withholding his personal opinion on Takatsuki's cowardice and what he thought about Mateo Lorenz-Flores.

Mina was called to read the first stanza, but Katsuki ignored her in favor of the girl he noticed sneaking in with a large red duffle bag. Her hair was a similar ash-blonde to Katsuki's, if not a little darker, held in tight but messy space buns with a forehead/curtain bang combo. She had bright yellow eyes that looked almost predatory and sharp canines that pressed into her lower lip when she smiled.

She looked to be around twenty and was wearing a long crimson skirt that went down to about mid-shin with an oversized warm pine brown cardigan. Underneath the cardigan she had a white button-up with a large red decorative bow and for shoes she wore plain brown penny-loafers with white socks.

Suddenly Dabi-Sensei was calling on him to explain the first stanza. He knew the answer, since this was one of his favorite poems. He'd spent a lot of time analyzing the poem. That being said, he couldn't understand the fifth stanza. He figured the reason he couldn't understand it was because Takatsuki wrote each stanza after murdering one of the people who stood in his way. In theory, he had less and less of his sanity each time until the stanzas became nonsensical. First stanza was easy, though, so he rolled his eyes and explained it.

The same warmth from the day prior made it's home in his chest once again when the teacher smiled at him. He wanted to shove it down and forget it, he knew he couldn't be with a teacher whether he wanted to or not. Not to mention the fact Dabi-Sensei most definitely didn't see him that way. There would be no reason for him to.

"Alrighty, kiddos, who wants to read the next stanza?" He looked around the room before pointing to a student behind Katsuki, "Shouto."

He turned in his seat to the dual-haired boy in question. He noticed now that he also had heterochromia, one mocha colored eye and one turquoise,

"I'll fight the sun and sea,

My love made of sand,

For you belong to me,

In this life made so bland."

The teacher smiled, "Anybody other than Katsuki want to explain this stanza?"

The brunette with the round face raised her hand and Dabi-Sensei nodded to her, "Does it mean that Takatsuki will fend off vast forces for his love?"

"Mmm, close," Dabi titlted his hand in a 'sort-of' way, "Katsuki, do you want to take it from here?"

The blonde in question rolled his eyes, "Yeah, whatever. The sun and sea do represent unopposable forces. The love is the sand, or the middle ground, sand isn't one being- it's many tiny pieces and each piece is a different trait of Takatsuki's love. The sea drags these pieces of the sand away and the sun makes the sand hot; untouchable. Takatsuki is saying he cherishes every part of his love and will not allow them to be changed by others. That with them life will never be boring and that is something worth fighting for."

His classmates stared at him again until Dunce Face 'Kaminari' spoke, "Dude, are you secretly Takatsuki reincarnated, or something?"

Katsuki scoffed, "Please, I wouldn't run from my people to chase something as silly as love. Takatsuki was a coward. If you love somebody, you'll take the consequences because they're worth it. A metaphorical shield, if you will. You're supposed to take the arrows, not run from them; if you run then you've turned your back to the enemy. Which is both stupid and cowardly."

"Dude… who hurt you?"

He didn't grace him with a response, only flipping him off.

Dabi-Sensei shook his head dissapprovingly, "Thank you for that, you two. Next stanza?"

Nobody of the class raised their hands, but the strange blonde girl in the back of the class did.

Dabi-Sensei sighed, pointing to her, "Yes, Himiko?"

She stood excitedly, everybody turning in their seats to watch her as she half-skipped to the front of the classroom. A few whispered amongst themselves, none of them having noticed her entrance earlier.

When she reached the lectern, she happily usurped the paper from the teacher's hand all the while he glared at her entirely unimpressed,

"Your attention is mine alone,

Those dare steal it pay in blood,

For this sin they cannot atone,

Lest their body be left in mud."

Her voice was airy and she had a dreamy expression on her face when she read, meanwhile the class looked disturbed. Katsuki had read the poem too much to be bothered and the Candycane kid adjacent to him mirrored that expression.

When she was done she, having handed Dabi-Sensei his paper back, half-skipped all the way to the back of the class again and reclaimed her seat at the ventilation system along the wall.

"I know what everybody is thinking, 'Who is this crazy lady and why is she here?'. That is Toga Himiko and she'll be my assistant art teacher for the rest of the year," The teacher exuded an air of disinterest when he spoke, which was far different from the zeal he used when teaching.

A boy with bluish black hair in an undercut and rectangular half-frame glasses raised his hand, "Todoroki-Sensei, I must ask you, is she approved to be teaching us?" he chopped his other hand through the air as he spoke.

Sensei blinked lethargically, "It's Dabi-Sensei, and she's approved by me."

"I meant by the distri-"

"She's approved by me, if you have a problem with my authority, you can request a formal meeting with me about it, otherwise my word is final. Are we clear?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"...Yes, sir."

It was like the teacher switched between two masks. The lazy, serious, and borderline intimidating air he'd briefly taken on instantly disappeared with an energetic clap of hands, "Who wants to tell me what the third stanza means?"

He looked to the kid who'd questioned him earlier, who only shrugged. Katsuki would have been amused had he not known it would fall on him to explain.

With a bone-deep sigh Dabi-Sensei's blue gaze fell on Katsuki again, "Sorry, Doll, but it seems this one is left to you again."

The blonde could feel the muscles in his eyebrow twitch, "Stop calling me that! And what's wrong with you people?! This stanza is so easy! Takatsuki is saying he'll kill anybody who gets too close to his lover, be them friend or foe!"

"Doll, I'm beginning to think you've read this poem before," The teacher chuckled. If the class hadn't been staring at him already, they definitely were now.

"Duh, Patches, of course I have! It's classic literature! You'd have to be an idiot to not study it!" Katsuki yelled, jumping out of his seat and planting both hands on his desk.

The teacher gave a lighthearted scoff, "Alright, alright. Next stanza, kiddos."

Jirou tentatively decided to read this one,

"Over blood sea; under red moon,

Crazy are the; for you make me swoon,

When it's just me; I'll sing like a loon,

For everyday you are gone far too soon."

Then on cue, Katsuki explained how the sea and moon represented the blood of everybody Takatsuki killed. How he'd hoped he would have more time to spend with his lover now that the people in the way were gone. That a loon was a type of bird with a very haunting call but can also represent somebody crazy. Representing that Takatsuki was crazy in love.

Dabi-Sensei surprised Katsuki when he asked him to read the fifth stanza. The one he didn't understand,

"Fine porcelain; your doll-like face,

In my mind; you leave little space,

I'd really like just a little taste,

To see you in blood-stained white lace."

He found he didn't mind not understanding the fifth stanza because the teacher gave him an approving smile anyhow, a small hint of other emotions Katsuki didn't know lay just underneath.

"Now, no theorist has been able fully comprehend what the fifth stanza could mean," Sensei began, pacing by the lectern with the poem in his hand, "It was thought perhaps Takatsuki was too far gone to make much sense of his writing, but we cannot know for sure."

Kirishima raised his hand, "Can I read the last stanza?"

"Sure."

The redhead smiled and cast a glance at Mina,

"That red means 'I love you',

And love you, I do,

Believe me, my dear, for it is most true,

There is not one on Earth I love more than you."

Sensei clapped his hands again, another all-familiar smirk making it's way onto his face, "Your homework tonight is to write an essay about what this poem means to you, it means anything at all, and how it makes you feel. Be sure to use M-L-A format and do not plagarise because I will know and I will find you."

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," The Spanish kid with the knobbly elbows whispered to Dunce Face. All too soon, because the teacher instantly looked at them and raised an eyebrow.

"I, the Bourgeoisie, will keep a lookout for the Spanish Inquisition," Dabi-Sensei smirked at them, pointing two fingers to his eyes and then to them.

"Aww, fiddle sticks," The two said in unison.

"Now! Art class! Single file, everybody, let's go to the art room!"

Toga Himiko was just as creepy as Katsuki thought she'd be, if not more so, she played slightly worrisome music during class. Dabi-Sensei said 'driver gets to pick the music, and right now she's driving,'. There was one song on there that he vaguely recalls being titled 'Love Taste' that was in English, so only about half the class even understood it to begin with. Most of it was vocaloid, which was fine, but there was one chorus that was difficult to interpret the lyrics.

He couldn't tell if the lyrics were saying 'They don't love you like I do' or 'They don't kill for you like I do'. He never thought kill for and love could sound so similar but suddenly they did. It was rather unsettling, if he was being honest.

Apparently for art they would be painting an experience that left a mark on them, good and bad, in one color from ROYGBIV for each day of the week. Obviously, since it was her first day teaching, they started with the 'R'. Red. They each had one tube of red, black, and white paint. Toga-San had a container that was too liquidy to be paint and when asked, she just smiled and said 'Don't worry about it!'

Dabi-Sensei assured everybody it was just pig's blood from the market. Katsuki was still a little suspicious but otherwise didn't press.

Katsuki painted his old school on fire. The wound was recent and he'd heard painting to be therapeutic, so it was what he went with.

"Bakubro, you're really good at painting!" Kirishima smiled to him.

Katsuki looked over at Kirishima's painting only to find pretty much his entire canvas was just red. He wanted to say he was surprised, but it made sense the more he thought about it. He'd even bet the guy would marry the color red if he could.

Mina turned her easel towards him, too. Hers just looked like a red line.

"It's the red string of fate!" She smiled proudly.

Katsuki didn't laugh. He didn't. Nope, "You suck at painting, Pinky."

She closed her eyes and smiled confidently, "I only accept positive reinforcement, thank you."

He rolled his eyes, "My bad. You are very good at sucking at painting."

"Ah- Bakubabe!" She gawked, smacking him on the shoulder which made both him and Kirishima burst out laughing to which she soon followed ensuite.

Dabi-Sensei and Toga-San were both very impressed with his painting. A few other kids in his class came close but his was still the best. Katsuki's ego had been thoroughly stroked for the day, that was for sure.

As they were packing up, Kirishima approached him, "Yo, me and Mina are heading to the arcade after school, you wanna come?"

"Nah, Shitty hair, I have studying and homework to do. I'd really like to turn it in on time, unlike some of us,"

Kirishima just laughed, "I'll see you tomorrow, then, Bakubro! Have fun with your homework!" he started to walk away before he spoke again, "Oh! Before I forget! Here!" he handed Katsuki a shark tooth necklace, "Now we match! Mina has one too!" He smiled, pulling another shark tooth necklace from under his uniform.

"...Thanks," Katsuki smiled at the necklace in his hand before putting it in his pocket. Kirishima smiled and waved to him before walking away hand in hand with Mina.

That was the last time Katsuki saw Kirishima alive.

His body had been found mangled behind an arcade. The murderer was still at large. It was said the attacker had strangled Kirishima with his own necklace before using it to stab out his eyes, cut his lips away from his teeth, and draw deep 'X's all over his body. His entrails had been pulling from his body, tied around his neck, and used to hang him from a lamp post.

Katsuki suddenly found his newfound excitement for school dying.

Dabi-Sensei had met with each of his students individually to comfort them and give them instructions for staying safe after school. He'd even lent him his hoodie. There was a strange stain on it, but he just said Toga-San had spilled some of her pig's blood on him by accident and he couldn't wash it out.

Mina was the only one who refused to speak with their teacher. She'd been completely inconsolable about the death of her boyfriend. Two days later she was announced dead, having hung herself with a matching necklace to the one Kirishima had given him.

The necklace he still had.

His first two friends died in his first week at a new school.

The school year no longer seemed stupid or pleasant.