{AN: The two others will post tomorrow, I'm exhausted.}
The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of Class 1-A's homeroom, casting soft light across desks and backpacks.
Most of the students were chatting idly, still shaking off the last traces of sleep.
"Man, what do you think we're doing today?" Kaminari stretched his arms behind his head with a yawn. "Feels like it's been forever since we've done something cool."
Ashido leaned forward over her desk. "It's gotta be more combat training, right? We haven't touched on rescue scenarios yet."
Kyoka shrugged, tugging one of her headphone jacks between her fingers. "We just did the indoor battle test with All Might a few days ago and the combat training with Cementoss, maybe they'll throw something completely different at us."
"Whatever it is, I just hope it's not more written work," Kirishima groaned. "I didn't come to U.A. to get wrecked by math."
Uraraka giggled. "You might still get wrecked by math and villains if you're not careful."
Midoriya, who was scribbling notes as always, blinked up from his notebook. "Aizawa-sensei mentioned we'd start learning about real-world hero responsibilities soon. Maybe today's the day?"
A hush fell over the room as the door slid open, revealing Aizawa, wrapped in his capture weapon, eyes half-lidded as usual.
"Good morning," he said flatly, pressing a button that opened the panels on the wall, revealing a container numbered to each seat "Suit up. Rescue training starts in twenty."
A wave of excitement rippled through the room.
"Rescue training?" Uraraka asked, eyes wide. "Like natural disasters?"
Kyoka was just as animated. "And we get to use our suits?!"
"That, and more," Aizawa said. "You'll see."
Takuma raised an eyebrow. The words rescue and training didn't sound nearly as light as they were meant to.
The students quickly moved to change into their costumes — a burst of color and identity blooming in every direction. Kirishima was all sharp reds and spiked armor, while Iida gleamed with metallic blue. Jirou's gear was dark and practical, cables and speakers threaded into her arms and legs like audio weaponry.
Takuma emerged in silence, his costume more subdued — matte black and charcoal gray, reinforced gloves and sleeveless armor over flexible plating. The armor bore subtle lines, like circuit traces etched into its surface. Not decorative — functional. He bore no cape, no strange symbols, only a suit that would comfortably enhance his defensive and stealth capabilities.
Jirou gave him an appraising look as he stepped out. "That suits you."
"Didn't want anything extra," he said. "I'm not here to put on a show."
Kirishima clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, but you still look awesome."
The class gathered near the main entrance, forming ranks. Iida counted heads while Sato offered granola bars like a mother hen. A few students stretched or posed, enjoying the breeze outside.
As they waited for the bus to pull up, Takuma felt his phone buzz.
[Jirou Kyoka]: You seem a little more open today, you even smiled a bit when you talked about your suit.
Takuma blinked. He didn't realize.
[Takuma]: I just feel more comfortable when I have something to focus on, helps keep my thoughts from unpleasant memories.
She didn't respond, but he could tell she read that message for a long time, and probably just didn't know how to respond. Takuma couldn't fault her for that, he could barely process the words himself, even if he'd been the one to say them.
The bus rolled to a stop in front of the school.
They boarded, and the ride was lively — Kaminari and Mineta joking around while Ojiro and Tokoyami debated rescue protocol. Takuma sat quietly in the back, Jirou and Kirishima on either side. He didn't say much, but for once, he didn't feel so out of place.
When they arrived at the domed facility, the class filed out with wide eyes.
The building was massive, pristine, its front doors emblazoned with metallic letters: USJ – Unforeseen Simulation Joint.
"Wow…" Uraraka whispered. "This place is amazing!"
Jirou tilted her head, listening. "I can hear all kinds of weird machines inside. Small, low power. Like they're doing nothing but...floating?"
As they gathered in front of the building, Aizawa turned to address them.
"All Might was originally supposed to oversee this lesson," he said simply. "But he's been delayed — a meeting with Principal Nezu."
Takuma frowned. How many times was that now? All Might's patrol frequency has rapidly dropped over the last few years, and he has almost never been spotted in public outside of his heroic encounters...and now he's frequently absent from classes he's supposed to lead as our teacher.
"Don't let that change how you approach this," Aizawa continued. "You'll be learning how to rescue people from various disaster scenarios. Don't expect things to go your way."
The doors creaked open, and the class stepped into the vast space inside.
It was like stepping into another world. Zones simulated collapsed buildings, floods, landslides, fires, chemical spills — an entire landscape of catastrophe contained within one dome.
Thirteen, the black-clad rescue specialist, stood at the center.
"Welcome, Class 1-A!" she said with a flourish, her voice enthusiastic despite the imposing space. "Today, you'll learn what it means to save lives!"
Takuma scanned the area, his senses tingling. So many materials, so many points of pressure…
Jirou glanced at him. "What is it?"
He shook his head slightly. "Nothing. Just… There's so much here I can manipulate, more than I'm used to is all.."
She didn't press.
As Thirteen launched into her explanation about rescue types and Quirk applications in emergencies, Takuma caught movement in the center of the plaza.
A black fog began to curl and stretch, swirling into the air like smoke with purpose.
Takuma narrowed his eyes. Something's wrong.
That wasn't part of the simulation.