Chapter Text
Training Ground Beta - Friday February 13th 2XXX - 3:17pm
Midoriya was halfway through tying a sling around Bakugou’s shoulder when Bakugou jerked his arm.
“Hold still,” Midoriya said.
“It’s crooked.”
“It’s not.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue and stopped fighting him, which was probably the only reason Midoriya managed to finish at all. He tightened the knot, checked the fold under the elbow, then let go carefully.
Bakugou rolled his shoulder once, testing it, then looked annoyed.
That was probably fine…
Around them, the training ground was a mess of broken concrete, bent metal supports, and smoke drifting low over the ground. Cementoss had built most of the rubble, and Thirteen had added marked hazard zones and rescue stations around the edges. Orange crates full of medical supplies sat at each checkpoint. Gauze, splints, slings, braces, thermal blankets.
Aizawa-sensei had called it basic disaster triage.
Which would have sounded simple if he hadn’t also said they’d be graded on speed, technique, and “whether or not you make the victim worse.”
Kaminari, a few metres away, was proving that last one might be a real concern.
“You wrapped the wrong leg,” Sero said, looking down.
Kaminari froze. “No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
There was a pause.
“…I can fix it.”
Jirou walked past them with a med kit in one hand and didn’t even slow down. “He’s dead.”
“I’m not dead,” Sero said.
“You will be.”
Iida was already moving over before Kaminari could argue, dropping into a crouch beside them.
“Kaminari, undo it and start again. Sero, stop shifting your weight. If this were a real fracture, you’d be making it worse.”
“I’m trying not to fall over,” Sero muttered.
“Then don’t let him bandage you standing up!”
Near the next mat, Uraraka was helping Tsuyu down onto a folded blanket while Yaoyorozu handed over a wrap.
“Left ankle?” Uraraka asked.
Tsuyu nodded. “That’s what the tag says.”
Ashido, flat on the ground beside them, lifted one hand. “I think I’ve been abandoned.”
“You’re not even in our group,” Yaoyorozu said.
“I can still be abandoned.”
Tokoyami was kneeling beside Shouji, fastening a pressure wrap around his forearm with Dark Shadow hovering over the open supply crate. The bandage was neat, obvious that it wouldn’t fall off.
Shoji flexed his hand once. “That’s good.”
Dark Shadow puffed up slightly. “Of course it is.”
Midoriya stood and took a quick look around while he tucked the extra gauze back into the kit.
Everyone was moving, more or less. Not perfectly, but enough. The first aid drills used to be clumsy because half the class treated them like an excuse to mess around. They still messed around, but now it happened while they worked. They were faster than they used to be. More automatic. It was a sign of the changing times, the war brewing on the horizon.
Bakugou glanced down at the sling again, then at Midoriya.
“It’ll hold.”
Midoriya blinked. “…Yeah.”
Bakugou was already walking off before he finished answering.
Kirishima dropped into the empty spot he’d left, grinning. “My turn. What am I?”
Midoriya reached for the tag clipped to his sleeve. “Fractured ulna.”
Kirishima held out his arm at once. “That sounds bad.”
“It’s your forearm.”
“Oh. That’s fine, then.”
“That’s not how that works,” Midoriya muttered, already reaching for the splint.
A whistle cut across the field.
“Rotate in thirty seconds,” Aizawa called.
A few people groaned.
“Already?”
“We just started.”
“Good,” Bakugou said. “Some of you are hopeless.”
“Wow, thanks,” Kaminari said.
“You wrapped him backwards.”
“I said I was fixing it!”
Midoriya slid the splint under Kirishima’s arm and adjusted it into place.
“Don’t bend your wrist.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You always move when people tell you not to.”
“Aw, come on dude, so not manly to point out my flaws like that.”
Midoriya just looked him in the eyes and raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll keep still.”
Midoriya started the wrap at the wrist and worked upward, keeping it firm but not too tight. Kirishima actually stayed still for once, watching over his shoulder while Midoriya secured the bandage.
On the next mat over, Todoroki was sitting on a slab of concrete while Jirou redid the wrap on his hand.
“Too tight?” she asked.
“I can’t really tell.”
“That’s not helpful.”
He looked at the bandage for a second. “Then maybe a little.”
She loosened it. “There.”
He flexed his fingers. “Better.”
“See?”
Aizawa’s scarf dragged over the ground as he walked between groups, checking their work. He stopped by Kaminari and Sero, looked down at the mess of half-unwrapped gauze around Sero’s leg, and sighed.
“Kaminari.”
Kaminari straightened. “Yes, sensei!.”
“Fix it.”
Kaminari opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Sero pointed at him. “Sensei, I’m totally dead aren’t I.”
Aizawa stared at both of them for another second, then moved on without another word, which somehow felt worse.
Midoriya finished tying off Kirishima’s splint just as Uraraka jogged past with Tsuyu’s arm over her shoulders.
Iida appeared beside them immediately. “Support more at the waist. If she loses balance there, both of you go down.”
Uraraka shifted her grip. “Like this?”
“Better.”
Tsuyu glanced at Midoriya as they passed. “He’s been doing this to everyone.”
“I’m helping,” Iida said.
“You’re supervising,” Jirou called.
“Somebody has to.”
Kirishima stood once Midoriya was done and flexed his fingers.
“Nice,” he said. “Feels solid.”
“Don’t actually hit anything with it.”
“No promises.”
“Please- just don’t.”
Aizawa blew the whistle again.
“Ok, new rotation. Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, Tokoyami. Extraction course.”
Midoriya straightened at once. “Right.”
Uraraka was already at the next marked section, tightening her backpack straps. Iida moved ahead of them before anyone else could. Tokoyami stepped through the edge of the smoke with Dark Shadow drifting out in front.
Midoriya slung a med kit over his shoulder and followed.
The next area was tighter. More debris packed into narrower spaces, broken slabs stacked high enough to block the light in places. A bent support beam forced them to duck on the way in. The smoke hung thicker here, and somewhere deeper in the course, one of the hidden speakers crackled with the sound of distant sparking wires.
Iida raised a hand and slowed.
“Two routes,” he said. “Left side is narrower.”
“Then we split?” Uraraka asked.
Tokoyami looked up toward the unstable slab overhead. “Not underneath that.”
Midoriya crouched near the gap on the right, looking through the dust and shadow. He could just make out one of the practice casualty markers near a collapsed wall.
“Right side,” he said. “There’s a tag ahead.”
Dark Shadow slid forward into the gap.
“Clear enough,” it said.
“Let’s move,” Iida commanded.
They stepped deeper into the rubble while the noise from the rest of the class faded behind them.
~
Training Ground Beta - Friday February 13th 2XXX - 16:29pm
Midoriya knelt on the cracked concrete, rolling up a stray bandage that had unspooled across the training ground. The smoke machines were shut off now, leaving the air still and faintly dusty. Most of the class had gone back inside, and the mats were mostly empty except for the scattered medical supplies and overturned crates.
He shoved the last roll into the crate and heard low voices near the edge of the field. He froze when he recognized them.
“—vanished completely,” Aizawa’s voice said. It was flat, controlled, but there was a tension in it that made Midoriya stiffen.
“Abroad,” Nedzu’s squeaky voice replied. “Multiple leads. Not just missing, but signs they crossed borders. No warning. No trace.”
“…That’s unusual,” Aizawa said. A pause, quiet enough that Midoriya had to strain to catch it. “You’re saying several of them, all at once.”
“Yes,” Nedzu said. “And the timing, well, it suggests something big. Something imminent.”
Midoriya’s hands stilled over the last bandage.
“What do you mean, imminent?” Aizawa asked. There was a slight edge in his tone, the kind that didn’t belong in a normal school day.
“I’m not certain,” Nedzu replied. “But when multiple people disappear in the same window with no signals or communication… it’s not normal. Not even close.”
Silence fell for a moment. Midoriya’s stomach tightened. He didn’t move, fingers silently toying with the fastening of the bandage.
“Keep monitoring the channels,” Aizawa said finally. “Any unusual movement, you’re reporting immediately. Understood?”
“Understood,” Nedzu said. The silhouette of unspoken words hung between them, heavy with the meaning they implied.
There was a pause, then Aizawa moved off. Midoriya held his breath until the sound of his boots faded, then started stacking the bandages again, careful not to make a noise. Finally, he slipped away, hurrying up to his room in the dorms. The air smelled like cooking again, the usual chaos of friends bantering and arguing. He didn’t want to interrupt just yet, didn’t want to sound dramatic in front of everyone, because of course it could be nothing.
But he needed them to know.
Pulling out his phone, he opened the “Hell Class” group chat and started typing.
Class 1-A Dorms - Friday 13th February 2XXX - 16:36pm
ow my bones: hey… overheard something. Aizawa and Nedzu said some heroes and informants have disappeared. completely gone. maybe crossed borders. something big might be coming
kirby: wait… like actually gone?
🦈: figures. we’ve all kinda suspected things were gonna get weird
pikachu: lol yeah, but still. freaky
karatekid: its okay, we’re heroes in training!
spiritually in a pond: oijirou is right, we’ve handled worse.
alien queen: still, let’s look out for eachother <3
blasty: Whatever, it’ll be light work for the future No.1 Hero anyway. You damn extras will probably make things worse.
alien queen: you love us reallyyyyy
Mother: Also… I heard Midnight talking to Snipe. Some gang locations are empty. Supplies left but no people. It… it seems like they’ve been taken.
kirby: seriously?
muffin man: damn… that’s… yeah, we stick together, right?
octoman: always
🦈: yeah, together
kirby: of course
ow my bones: alright… just… keep an eye out I guess
alien queen: imma go grab some snacks lol
muffin man: anyone want cookies?
blasty: don’t test me with cookies
pikachu: lol
🦈: I want snacks
karatekid: fine, imma get tea
ow my bones: talk later.