The cafeteria buzzed with end-of-week tension. Students laughing too loudly, half-asleep over curry bowls, or hyped up on sugar and weekend delusions. Midoriya and Uraraka entered with their trays, dodging a sprinting Shoji carrying four drinks.
“There she is,” Midoriya said, tilting his head toward the usual table.
Robinn was already there... but barely. She sat slumped forward, arms folded on the table, forehead resting heavily on top. Her food tray sat untouched to the side, like it had personally wronged her.
Uraraka blinked. “Whoa. What is that posture?”
“She looks like she failed the midterms,” Midoriya muttered as they got to the table.
Robinn groaned without lifting her head. “This is worse.”
Uraraka sat down across from her. “Okay. Drama queen. What happened?”
Robinn’s voice was muffled against her sleeves. “I can’t pick a club.”
Midoriya blinked. “Still?”
Robinn lifted her head slightly, just enough to be seen glaring through a curtain of hair.
“Do you know how many clubs there are? I didn’t even know we had clubs until Monday. And now it’s Friday. And I still don’t know which one is the least likely to ruin my life.”
Uraraka raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t they supposed to be for fun?”
“Exactly,” Robinn said grimly. “And that’s the problem. I don’t see the appeal. Fun is how people get injured or emotionally entangled.”
Midoriya gave her a deeply confused look. “What do you think clubs are?”
“I don’t know,” Robinn snapped. “But I walked past the Tea Ceremony club and they were dead silent and making eye contact like they were plotting something.”
“Maybe they were just... having tea?”
Uraraka bit back a laugh. “So... not that one.”
“Then I walked past the Gardening Club and Shoji asked if I wanted to help repot the traumatized roses." Robinn’s eyes were dead serious. “The roses are traumatized, apparently. I didn’t know that was a thing that could happen.”
“Maybe they’re dramatic. Like you,” Uraraka offered sweetly.
Robinn didn’t respond. Just let her face collapse back onto the table with a thunk.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
There was a short silence. Then Uraraka leaned over and said, “At this point, just join one. Seems like you’ll suffer no matter what.”
Midoriya nodded, perfectly supportive. “Yeah. Might as well suffer in a structured environment.”
Robinn groaned into her arms. “I should’ve just joined the first one I saw and been done with it.”
Uraraka tilted her head. “Honestly... maybe Gardening Club’s the move. Plants don’t talk, there’s dirt to stab, and it might even teach you patience.”
Robinn didn’t move. “...I don’t want to learn patience.”
Midoriya smiled. “That sounds like exactly why you should.”
Uraraka grinned. “I’m taking that as a yes.”
Midoriya glanced over. “So... Gardening Club it is?”
“Tell them I’ve been emotionally blackmailed,” Robinn muttered.
The garden behind the main Building wasn’t large, just a collection of raised beds, a nice shed, climbing trellises, and soft earth with a few scattered tools, but it was quiet. Peaceful.
Shoji liked that.
He was watering a row of spinach when she arrived.
Robinn Reibach stood like a soldier on parole, hands limp at her sides, eyes locked on the trowel she held like it had personally wronged her.
“Welcome to Gardening Club,” he said.
She didn’t answer. Her gaze drifted behind him, to the distant gym building.
Shoji followed it, watched her eyes linger.
“I usually train after class,” she muttered. “Not... this.”
Shoji nodded. “You can build grip strength with weeding.”
She stared at him like he’d suggested lifting weights with her teeth.
Before the silence could rot, a serene voice floated in from the side path.
“Ah. A new seedling has arrived.”
Shoji stepped aside as Ibara Shiozaki approached, hands folded in front of her. Her vine hair swayed gently, even without wind.
Robinn took a half-step back.
“I am Ibara Shiozaki,” she said warmly. “Let the spirit of the soil guide you.”
Robinn blinked. “Thanks... I guess, the name’s Robinn Reibach.”
“And this,” Shoji added, gesturing toward the others as they arrived, “is Yui Kodai from class 1-B too, her quirk is amazing to transport pots.”
“Equipment too!” Yui chimed, grinning and adjusting her sunhat.
Robinn nodded slowly, like someone trying to process a foreign language.
“And this is Aiko, from General Studies, she’s a year above us.”
A girl with a ponytail and dirt-streaked gloves gave a wave from where she was re-potting something leafy. “Hey. If you’re new, grab gloves. Tools are by the shed. Don’t mess with the peppers, they’re moody.”
She didn’t look up again, just kept working, methodical and unfazed.
Shoji handed her gloves. “Want a tour?”
“What even is there to tour?,” Robinn said flatly. “There are just like 12 big planters full of plants...”
Shoji smiled behind his mask. “They’re not just plants. Each one has a story, growth cycles, how they respond to care. Let me show you.”
He led her slowly along the planters, naming spinach, tomatoes, beans, and some herbs Robinn barely glanced at.
“See this tomato?” Shoji pointed. “Needs steady watering, lots of sun, but don’t overdo it. Fragile skin, but strong roots.”
Robinn gave a small, dry smile. “Fascinating. I’ll add ‘tomato whisperer’ to my resume.”
Shoji chuckled. “Try repotting this one. Beginner tradition. Helps you get a feel for the soil.”
Robinn crouched, still tense but careful, and gently lifted a small seedling. The dirt crumbled a little, but she managed without mishap, plopping it into the pot Shoji was holding.
He nodded approvingly. “Good job, Robinn. That’s enough for today.”
She stood, brushing dirt from her knees, voice light but tired. “Well, I suppose this isn’t the worst way to waste time.”
Shoji opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off with a polite but brisk nod.
“I’ll... see you tomorrow, then.”
Without waiting for a response, Robinn turned and strode toward the gym building, the trowel held like an accessory she’d rather lose.
“See you tomorrow,” Shoji called after her.
No reply.
