Aizawa set down the paper he had just finished grading and checked his phone. 4:03. His review course was supposed to start at four, but Nemuri knew his thoughts on the matter. It was more logical for the lessons, be they lecture or practical, to take as long as needed to sink in.

He picked up the next essay, Kaminari's paper, grimaced, and grabbed a fresh red pen. UA's courses reminded him more of high school in a way, the more generic courses anyway. Given that Heroics was a multidisciplinary track with such diverse disciplines including communications, criminal justice, medical training, marketing, advanced quirk training, and even athletics… it was determined that the students should be given additional support.

Simply marking a report with a D without pointing out the reasons why (multitude of reasons why in Kaminari's case) being high among them. Despite being a professor, he often felt more like a glorified TA. His specialized, Heroics-only review course had been set up by Dean Nedzu, to keep a watchful eye in case anyone needed to be removed, and to watch any potential replacements if a slot opened up.

He made another mark, the fifteenth on the page, scanning for more errors before flipping the page and reaching for his phone again. 4:07.

Aizawa grimaced and sent Nemuri a text asking if they were close to finishing. His was the last class of the day, and he'd hold the students to finish if necessary. Still, Nemuri should have sent him a message saying she was going to be late, even if today's lesson on observation and situational awareness during patrols would take longer than most practical training.

He returned to the essay but stopped after the second paragraph. Nothing. There were errors in what he'd read, but his phone hadn't chimed, buzzed, or made any noise. Had he left it on silent? He snatched it, checking for a message, sure that he'd given her enough time to respond, but found none.

His frown deepened as he called her, concern growing with each ring. The moment it went to messages he hung up and dialed Nedzu.

Yaoyorozu blinked, waking from… she wasn't sure, to be honest. Something was nagging at her, something important, but what it was, she couldn't place. She was lying in her bed, the drapes screening the morning sun–was that right? It didn't feel right. Didn't the sun get blocked by the headboard… But it was her bed, she was sure of it, and—

"Mistress? Are you awake?"

That voice! Wait, mistress? Yaoyorozu propped herself up, her soft silk nightclothes maintaining her decency, "Jiro? What are you doing in my room?" Not that she wasn't allowed, of course, but she would usually knock.

"Ah," There was a swishing sound as fabric rubbed against fabric as Jiro approached, "I was merely checking to see if Mistress was awake. You will need to prepare if you are to greet Sirs Todoroki and Iida when they arrive."

"Sirs Todoroki and Iida–" Yaoyorozu pulled the screen away to see–she blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes for good measure, "Jiro, what are you doing in…" She motioned to the black dress with a frilly white apron. The bottom of the dress billowed out with a short petticoat, leaving her stockinged legs exposed from the knees.

Perhaps she stared a bit too long because Jiro began to squirm under her gaze.

"Is mistress not pleased?" Jiro asked, far too meekly for the friend she knew, "I was merely following mistress's instructions." And then she blushed.

Yaoyorozu couldn't quite stop herself from staring, sure that she was blushing herself. She could feel her heart beating a little faster.

There was something incredibly wrong with this. She knew that. This wasn't like the Jiro she knew at all... but that didn't mean she could tear her eyes off her friend.

Jiro squirmed, her legs brushing up against each other, her face going flush before she finally found her resolve, "Would mistress like me to assist her in getting dressed?"

The conference room was crowded with the professors who taught the missing students. All Might looked haggard, the disappearance of his successor weighing on him heavily. Present Mic was uncharacteristically quiet, eyes lingering on Midnight's empty chair. Aizawa, arriving only just in front of Nezu himself, sat down heavily, saying nothing.

Nedzu closed the door behind him and took his seat at the head of the conference table, "As you've all been made aware, one of our hero courses has gone missing along with Professor Midnight."

"Do we have any idea what happened?" Snipe asked, arms barred tightly against his chest.

"We were fortunate that their disappearance was caught on camera, though we weren't fortunate enough for any audio to be recorded. What we do know is that they were returning from Ground Gamma when they were approached by an unknown individual." Nedzu took a remote from his pocket and hit play, the scene playing out behind him.

1-A were walking through the quad when a disheveled-looking man ran towards them. They all braced, clearly seeing him as a threat, but he skidded to a halt several feet away. With his back to the camera, it was impossible to see exactly what he did, but Midnight and the students were just moving into action when the man, Midnight, and the students all disappeared in a flash of light.

"Please tell me we have a better visual on him?"

"Did he leave any physical evidence behind?"

"How did he get on campus?"

Nedzu held up a paw as the professors began peppering him with questions. "We do have a better picture of him, it's being run through criminal records as we speak. I guided Aizawa to the place he disappeared from and we recovered a locked cell phone and a syringe that we believe was filled with Trigger, but we won't know for sure until it's been analyzed. As for how he arrived on campus…" Nedzu trailed off, his eyes wandering over to Aizawa, "there was a witness, but they were assaulted by the mystery assailant. I am putting Eraserhead in charge of questioning as our witness is someone he's familiar with."

Izuku checked the clock, notebook at the ready. His next appointment… appointment? He blinked but shook his head. Yes, his next appointment would be arriving. An… Ochako Uraraka coming to see him for quirk counseling.

Something about that struck Izuku as wrong, in fact, a lot did, but it also struck him as incredibly right. He already had his notebook at the ready, filled with notes of previous sessions, and ideas about how her quirk worked. He'd be asking her more questions of course, seeing what she had used it for, if there were any avenues she hadn't explored with it.

There were tests as well. They ranged from the simple to the complex, but also the esoteric. After all, there really was no way to know how a quirk would react when… stimulated, at least until one tried it.

Izuku furrowed his brow, the thought striking him as odd in the extreme. It was Uraraka, he knew her, he… um… he gnawed on his lip, his cheeks going red. He needed to remain professional? Something wasn't adding up, but that was when someone knocked on the door. He pushed the thought aside, "Come in."

The door opened and Uraraka slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. She was wearing civilian clothes, a simple t-shirt that was tucked into her shorts. The effect left the shirt tight against her in ways he wouldn't have expected, but she sat down across from him and gave him a smile. "Thank you for the assistance." She said, without preamble, "I really need to make sure I know all the ins and outs of my quirk before I become a hero."

Izuku nodded, "It's the smartest decision you could make." He smiled at her and looked at his notebook, "Now, it says here we were going over different aspects of your quirk. I…" He paused, "I asked you to come in this time with your shirt tucked in?" That didn't… he flipped the page, "Ah. I wanted to see if you could free it with your quirk alone." That made some sense, right? It was weird, but trying new things was important, wasn't it?

"Okay," Uraraka nodded, clearly not seeing anything weird, "I'll try." Her fingers brushed against the fabric at her bust, drawing a flush to Izuku's face, and he watched as she focused, shutting her eyes as she willed her shirt to free itself.

"You can do it, Uraraka," He murmured, trying to support her as she strained, "I'm sure you've almost–" He didn't quite finish, the words dying on his tongue as her shirt popped free of her pants and shot up, revealing the bra underneath.

"Wake up Mineta."

Aizawa ignored the pointed look Recovery Girl gave him. His former student groaned, rubbing at his eyes. One of them had been black and blue when he arrived, and he'd likely suffered a concussion when the abductor slammed him into a wall, but Recovery Girl's kiss should have healed both in short order.

"Sensei?" Mineta croaked, and Aizawa felt his lip twitch.

Close enough, he guessed. Aizawa pulled the seat up to the bed, "I need you to tell me everything you remember about this afternoon."

"What?" Mineta blinked, furrowing his brow, "Wait, this is the nurse's office. How did I–" He trailed off, recognition flashing across his face.

"You were assaulted, and we're looking for the individual who did it." Aizawa leaned in closer, "Can you tell me how they entered UA? We had camera footage of him appearing in the hallway as he assaulted you, but we didn't have a good angle."

Mineta grimaced, "I was blocking the shot." Aizawa nodded but stayed silent. His former student hadn't been removed due to a lack of talent, more a lack of self-restraint. UA's code of conduct was strict enough, but Hero students were held to an even higher standard. It had only taken a few violations for him to be pushed out.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Mineta chewed on his lip, closing his eyes as he focused, "I was in between classes, but I didn't have enough time to go back to my dorm, so I was playing a game on my phone." His eyes squeezed shut, "The next thing I knew, a fist was shooting out of my phone, and I was being thrown into a wall."

Aizawa tensed, "He came through your phone?" He could hardly imagine how they'd be able to make effective countermeasures against such an individual, but to his relief, Mineta hesitated before shaking his head.

"No. No, I saw someone in the back of the class. It wasn't the first time, but he always disappeared so I thought it was just a glitch." His former student opened his eyes and looked up at him, "I think he came through my game."

Aizawa grimaced, already dreading the answer, "What sort of game were you playing, Mineta?"

The sounds of the weight room were familiar. Heavy breaths, grunts, and groans, barbells clinking against racks or striking the floor. But just for a second, Eijiro blinked in confusion, wondering how he got here. Hadn't he–

"Watch yourself Shitty Hair," Bakugo growled, and Eijiro's eyes widened at the barbell above him. He'd already taken it off the rack, but only now was he feeling the strain. "take this shit seriously."

"Looks like he's got something on his mind, that's all." Sero offered, and walked around him, "I'll spot for you."

"S-sure." Eijiro answered and took a long slow breath as he lowered the weight.

Sero grinned down at him, "Going with a basic set? A ladder? Or are you going to try for a pyramid?"

Eijiro blinked, "Uh… a basic set right now."

He could hear Bakugo tsk, but Sero just stepped back, "Three sets of ten then."

Eijiro exhaled as he pushed the barbell into the air in one steady motion, "One." Sero said, and Eijiro took another breath as he lowered the bar again. How much weight was even on these things? He felt like he was pressing a ton, but at the same time somehow not.

All he could see was the fifty-pound plates on the end. And that there were at least two on each side. He could already tell he was going to be sore later, but no pain, no gain.

"And rack," Sero said, cutting into his train of thought as he guided the barbell onto the shelf. "Good job. You've got," He checked his watch, "eighty seconds before your next set."

Bakugo grunted and wandered over, pushing a bottle of water at him, "Drink." He ordered, and Eijiro was all too willing to comply.

"How much did I put on?" He asked, keeping an eye on Sero as he counted down the seconds.

"You idiot." Bakugo snatched the bottle away, "How can you not even–"

"Two fifty," Sero answered. "You said you were going for your personal best?"

"Better than my personal best." Kirishima offered, just a little sheepishly.

"You can do it, Kiri," Mina announced, marching over from he wasn't sure where. He just knew that he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her if he tried. Since when did she go to the gym in only a sports bra? Not that he was complaining, but…

"Think you'll be able to keep it up?" She teased, leaning over him, "Do you need some incentive?"

Okay, he was sure his cheeks were burning, and it had nothing to do with physical exertion. "W-what sort of incentive?" He squeaked.

"How about a kiss?"

"A kiss?"

"Oy, Racoon Eyes, you're distracting him." Bakugo cut in, "Save that shit for later."

"Yup, we're just hitting eighty… now." Sero announced, "Get back to it, two more sets and we can hit the showers."

"Oh, that sounds much better." Mina grinned mischievously, "If you get through all three sets, maybe I'll come join you."

The barbell nearly slipped from his hand and Mina laughed as Sero reached in and helped him correct his grip. "Better luck next time, Kiri." She laughed melodically.

Sero helped him get the barbell onto the shoulder and shook his head, "Guess you'll only get to see us naked today."

I cannot write a summary worth a damn. Yes, this is my April Fool's story, no, it isn't going to wait around until next year for chapter two. ... I mean, I certainly *hope* you won't have to wait until next year for chapter two, but I've managed to make a fool out of myself more than once when estimating chapter updates.

Anyway. I'm also going to get this out of the way now: this is low stakes compared to Locked In Digital and Linger, the two stories that inspired this one. Expect several tropes from those stories though.