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A Study in Firsts

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Life was odd, new, unexpected and disorienting for the first while. Nobody had ever lived away from home, with exception to short vacations or traveling.

This was different, there was a sense of chaos and disorder with the new situation. What had anyone expected, when you gathered a collection of traumatized children and tossed them under a single roof and expected cooperation.

Dorms were a new concept at UA, a model that few other schools adopted. The situation was entirely different, but the common problems of community living were present despite the rather impressive quirks.

The floors and walls were reinforced; waterproof, fireproof, electricity retardant, coated with a nonreactive chemical to ward off various acids or bases, temperature adjustable and with climate controlling capabilities. The designers had thought nearly everything through, adding in smaller touches were necessary and even designing a fully stocked staff room for minor building repairs. Most of this was simply powdered cement for a certain pro-hero, but there were additional supplies like cans of paint, adhesive glues and sealers, abrasive cloths for removing stains and soot, and a vacuum larger than a small child.

The stairwells were slightly wider than normal, the railings double welded and supported through the middle to absorb impressive weight. The elevators were heavy duty, able to lift the equivalent of a small cargo box fully loaded for international waters. Additional call buttons supplied for a various array of scenarios: fire, power outage, contact nearest campus authority, immediate medical attention required, sanitary contamination, perceived threat.

From the windows the lined the courtyard- large floor to ceiling windows that were thicker than All Might’s thigh, you could see the two picnic tables that lined the private garden for the dorm building. A few flower beds, an optional spot for a student garden, small decorations that fit with the decor of UA.

The first floor was sprawling, large open areas that everyone could tell had a strategic advantage to it. A single TV that was relatively large, a few couches and chairs in a horseshoe with matching coffee tables and lamps. A rug that still smelled like the manufacturers plant, it too was likely fireproof.

The kitchen was large, wide counters and islands surrounded with backless bar stools. It was equipped fully with pots and pans, the most basic utensils and standard cutlery. The fridge was large, clearly an industrial kitchen fridge and freezer combo.

It was perfect, it was utopia.

Except it wasn’t.


 

A house had a lifetime of adaptation, of minor remedies so common or natural people forgot about them to begin with.

A new room, clearly, did not have these accommodations.

The learning period took some time, small subtle mistakes that anyone could make.

Mina slipped up first, stretching jerkily before rolling sideways and smashing face first into a wall.

Kaminari messed up next, sprawled on one of the communal couches. He rolled off, trying to twist quickly to catch himself on his feet in a well practiced movement that spoke years of slacking off. Instead, his shins slammed into a coffee table and the blonde haired male collapsed to the ground wheezing.

Tokoyami kept pulling on push doors. Uraraka couldn’t get the small metal key to work in her door. Sero walked into a wall around four times, and Kirishima busted out the corner drywall from running his shoulder into it too many times.

The entry mat skid out of control under Hagakure’s feet when she ran inside too quickly, Momo fell clean off the back of a bar-stool when she forgot they had no backs. Midoriya one morning forgot his ID to get back into the dorms, he spent ten minutes blinking in dumb exhausted incomprehension on the locked door.

Most of the mistakes were minor things, small adjustments everyone teased the others over. Homesickness reared its ugly head, classwork and assignments built up until stress overwhelmed everything else.

Then, the requests started to come in.


 

The U.A. campus security mandated that for a student to leave campus, they must put in an accurate form to their homeroom teacher, then be monitored for any suspicious activity or threat.

It was a completely understandable security risk, one that nobody could really complain over. All food was provided for them, unlimited access to school facilities, they had a five minute walk to anything they could want but sometimes, not being able to run into town for something truly was the worst.

Kaminari had the first casualty. His phone charger finally died, crying out its pain before sparking feebly and passing away. The cord broke where it plugged into the phone, exposed bits of metal that even an expert mechanic couldn’t fix.

Tsuyu ran out of soap. Considering her baths were more like long leisure soaks in a pool, she really should have brought extra. Midoriya ran out of pencils- all of the poor things warped from absent minded chewing or sharpened to such a short length it was completely useless.

The first true accident, was Mina.


 

“Guys stop.” Mina moaned, face first laying down on her bed. It was on a noticeable slant, a good four inches of uneve difference. “This isn’t funny!”

That didn’t do much to deter the hysterical laughter from both Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Dude!” Sero could barely wheeze out from how hard he was shaking, “you melted your bed!”

Mina rolled over and screamed into her pillow.

“I mean,” Kaminari could barely breathe, his words already were slurred behind the shaking of his chest, “it’s only four inches!”

Mina screamed again, and Kirishima finally composed himself, wiping aside the tears from the corner of his eyes.

“It’s- it’s not too bad.” He grinned, flushed in amusement, “I mean like, you could maybe go steal books from Mister Class Pres!”


“Yeah! Get a couple dictionaries and it’ll be fixed!” Sero added in, dropping to his knees to squint at the damage up closer. “You really destroyed this thing, didn’t you?”

Mina popped her head up, huffing and scowling. “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose! Sometimes when I’m sleeping it just happens!”

Kirishima nodded knowingly, “oh yeah! That’s the worst.”

“Oh, yikes.” Sero grimaced with a shrug, “I mean, sometimes my quirk acts up but it’s probably nothing like you guys,”

Kaminari shrugged and scratched the nape of his neck. “I mean, I don’t ever have that problem.”

“Probably because your quirk is electric, you idiot.”

“Ow! Hey!”


 

(Three days later, the entire kitchen island had to be replaced after it fell from an unexplained ten feet in the air, shattering the stone counter top on impact with the ground. Uraraka was suspiciously horrified.)


 

“Okay, so…” Kaminari paused, squinting at the couch suspiciously. “...I can’t think of anyone that could do this.”

Mina paused, then cackled far too loudly.

The couches, once plush and soft red leather, were now destroyed beyond repair. Strips hung loosely, high quality stuffing was falling out in clumps. Large gouges tore up any areas relatively unscratched, leaving it looking fairly mangled.

Kaminari scratched the underside of his chin. “Did...do we have a resident dog as well? Instead of just a rabbit?”

Mino wheezed, slapping the back of the destroyed leather furniture. She looked close to keeling over.

“I dunno man,” Sero looked at the mess fairly apprehensively, “I don’t’ think a bit of tape is going to fix it this time.”

Kirishima made a small noise of misery, glancing at the decent length of adhesive in his hands. “...are you sure?”

Sero shrugged, “I mean, I can try. What did you even do to this thing?”

Kirishima flushed, looking around anxiously. “I ah, there was one of those ah, ghost hunting TV shows on.”

Mina popped her head up, looking far too delightful. “Did you get spooked?”

Kaminari beamed, “pun! That was a pun!”

“I can’t help it! That shit’s freaky!”

“You got scared from buzzfeed unsolved, oh my god.”

“I did not!” Kirishima defended, waving his arms around somewhat desperately. A small sliver of red leather was stuck to the outer edge of his elbow, testament to his accidental quirk use.

“Rest in pieces, couch.” Mina snickered, patting the back of the chair with a far too delighted expression. “You better figure out how to fix this before Aizawa finds out and we all get detention.”

Kaminari flinched and shook his head, “Oh god.”

“No no!” Kirishima squawked, “we can fix this! I mean, if Uraraka could fix the kitchen without Aizawa finding out, we can fix this!”

Sero scratched the back of his neck, “didn’t she have Midoriya help her though? And Momo made that glue for her.”

Mina tilted her head with a hum, “I mean, I’ve sewed a little. They don’t make clothes in the pattern I like so I’ve made skirts before. I don’t have any needles though.”

Sero looked at the couch and hummed in thought. “I mean, I can probably tape this together.”

Kaminari poked a lump of stuffing with an amused sound. “Yeah man, it’s not like you ate the stuffing or anything, bro. It’s all here, just...uh...outside instead of inside.”

“I bet you we could gut a pillow or something for extra stuffing.” Mina chirped in excitedly, “this is going to be fun! Let’s get to work!”

(An hour later, the couch was a monstrosity of odd shade faux leather, clumsy sewing marks, and lumpy stuffing. Everyone in the dorm threw a blanket over it and called it good enough.)


 

Iida tore up the carpet on the end of the hallway, right in front of the elevator. Decelerating too quickly destroyed the fibers like rug-burn in reverse. The flooring underneath was black and scorched, the hallway stank of melting plastic for days. They couldn’t fix that one so easily, not without gutting the entire hallway of carpeting and relaying it down. The ground was hard and crunchy where the plastic under webbing melted together, the polyester strands fused into a gross black clump.

Jiro jumped at it, sprawled on her belly wearing a thick visor and other tools that looked strangely like a mad scientist's lab. Nobody wondered why she had soldering tools and over fourteen different types of tweezers. Jirio worked professionally, bobbing her head to aggressive punk music while she performed surgery on the floor.

They ended up with a small doormat in the hallway, hiding the stain. At least it wasn’t crunchy or unraveling anymore.


 

Todoroki caught a cold; he sneezed and the sudden temperature shock of both ice and fire caused a window to explode in shards as large as rice.

Everyone turned silent, looking at the large expanse of glass that now sprinkled across the floor.

Todoroki sighed, hung his head, and quietly walked out of the room.

(It took a group effort to fix that disaster. Seto had to keep Momo carefully flat, working over a course of an hour to create glass spanning from her shoulder to her foot. Seto lowered her so slowly, all the while fast food was crammed into her mouth. It was a horrible experience.)


 

Shoji opened a cabinet and casually tore the door off. He stared at it for a moment, attempting to gently place it back on its busted hinges. At this point, Momo was going to get a ridiculously expensive Christmas present.


 

Kaminari picked a fight with the dryer. Apparently he took static shock as a personal offense.

The dryer won.


 

Ojiro dented the wall first, puncturing right through the drywall and leaving a powdery white hole. He ended up scrubbing the white powder out of his tail hair in the kitchen sink.

Todoroki’s door kept warping from temperature changes; there were only so many times you could muscle it back into shape before wood gave way. At least the hairline splintering was only obvious from the inside.

Sero stuck tape to the wall, and peeled it- and the paint, away in one fluid motion.

Tsuyu somehow brought a light fixture down, although she never quite explained what she was doing.

Midoriya broke the pavement outside. He had been lifting weights and was so startled by a spontaneous bird flying by, he tossed the weight over the balcony until it fell all the way down and cracked concrete.

Tokoyami broke the handle on the fire escape after he tripped on the first step and Dark Shadow snapped out and shattered the railing.

All in all, everyone was scrambling in a strange sense of camaraderie as the Dorm building around them very slowly fell apart. They pieced it together with hard work, elbow grease, and a lot of tape.


 

They actually did a really good job with it all.

There was only one oversight, that very casually turned the entire Dorm into a secret time bomb.

It turned out, that the washing machine lacked the proper chemical neutralizers to deconstruct Nitroglycerin into a safer compound. Nitroglycerin was explosive, sure, but only when triggered by a spark or other physical contact.

However, Nitroglycerin changed over time. It became more unstable with age, changing from a clear oily fluid into something almost reddish in colour. It released fumes in the air- highly flammable fumes, that stuck relatively low to the ground.

Not only that, but the more unstable Nitroglycerin got, the more likely it was to spontaneously combust from something as basic as friction.

Since the students weren’t permitted to leave campus to acquire the required chemicals to neutralize the problem, and Momo wasn’t confident with creating a chemical agent without messing up a single molecule; one of the empty rooms was broken into, and became the ticking bomb room.

Nobody talked about the room, although everyone knew of its existence. Everyone knew that eventually someone would have to speak up and tell their teacher about the quickly increasing pile of live explosives. Until then, nobody was willing to mention it other than a terrified glance the moment a heavy workout left yet another T-shirt coated in nitroglycerin.

Surely everything would come out one day, but it wasn’t that day; and thus, the poorly kept secret became even more a secret.


 

Kaminari was completely banned from the top floor of the building. Electricity and live explosives were under no circumstances to ever meet.


 

“Can we make Mineta tell him? That way if they go investigate, at least the little pervert dies first.”


Oh my god, guys, we literally have a ticking time bomb.”


 

“What if...what if Todoroki froze it all-.”

“Freezing still creates friction, which would detonate it all.”

“....crap."


 

Midoriya broke down on the kitchen counter only a week into the poorly kept secret. At least he was sane enough to express how ridiculously stupid the problem was.

Out of every single person in the dorm, the only people who could likely survive an explosion of that caliber was Kirishima and Bakugo. Maybe Midoriya if he had enough time to recover or activate full cowl, but other than that everyone would likely be incinerated.

But telling Aizawa?

Please, they would rather be dead than expelled.


 

(The logic was a bit flawed, but considering how much UA meant to them all, nobody was willing to fess up to the problem at hand.)


 

It was actually the students of 1-B that blew the cover, or rather, that exposed that the students of the Hero Course were struggling with adapting to campus life.

Aizawa showed up one weekend, bright and early when nobody in particular wanted to see him. Weekends were a unique thing since half of the students followed a schedule and the other half ignored exercise in favour of sleeping. It wasn’t common to see one half of the class (namely Kaminari, Ururaka, and Tokoyami) until nearly noon. On the other hand, Bakugo was almost always gone before dawn. Midoriya followed after; the other students ambled out at unpredictable times.

Ten in the morning was a perfectly reasonable time to shake everyone out of their rooms, forcing them to gather in the main living room.

Everyone very carefully did not look at the mauled couch.

“Alright,” Aizawa started, head lolling slightly to the side. His eyes were more bloodshot than normal, the bags under his eyes had reached a critical level of purple. Obviously the man didn’t want to waste his weekend on campus lecturing a bunch of students. “It’s come to staff attention that the accommodations here at the dorms may not had sufficed given your range of quirks.”

Nobody said anything. The various flaws in the building seemed obvious, bright and glaring in the early morning. The way the sunlight filtering through the repaired window was slightly dimmer than the others. The way the TV had a disfigured HD input and didn’t actually work anymore. (Jiro was curious, it didn’t end well.)

Nobody looked up, where a small circular hole remained of the light fixture they had to remove.

Thank god Bakugo and Midoriya were out running, otherwise one of them would have blown their cover instantly.

Aizawa lazily looked over them all before he sighed and scratched his cheek. “Look, I don’t want to be here on my day off. The other dorms had the electrical system broken from scales in the drywall. Fess up, or everyone here is getting detention.”

Uraraka inhaled sharply, Momo looked horrified at the thought.

Iida hung his head, nearly vibrating from the disappointed gaze of his teacher. Everyone tensed, ready to bolt the moment the class president very slowly raised his hand.

Mina bit her lip, Mineta was basically twitching in stress.

“Ashido melted her bed!” Kaminari nearly screamed, the sudden volume caused nearly everyone to jump. Mina flushed, glaring and spitting out low insults as her hands curled into fists. Aizawa very slowly looked over at them, unfaltering gaze. Kaminari fumbled and fell mute.

“Right,” Aizawa sighed into his scarf. “I’ll have support coat a new bed frame to be resistant to your quirk. What else.”

Everyone blinked in a moment of stunned confusion, expecting punishment. Aizawa looked even more exhausted.

“We as staff failed to accommodate all of your quirks. It’s realistic to expect damages due to our oversight. If none of these damages were intended, then they aren’t your fault.”

Tsuyu blinked and lifted her hand blandly. She didn’t look cowed or startled at all. “I broke a light, ribbit. I was trying to stretch my tongue but we can’t use quirks without supervision outside.”

Aizawa’s eyes flickered upwards to the single hole in the ceiling drywall. “You can stretch in the courtyard.”

Tsuyu blinked and gave a formal nod; it was impossible to see if she was happy with her new freedom.

“Sir, I uh…” Uraraka started, face scrunched up and flushed in her embarrassment, “I uh...I messed up the kitchen island and dropped it... but Momo and I tried to fix it and it isn’t that bad anymore!”

She kept her eyes scrunched closed, clearly expecting something horrible for her damages.

Aizawa sighed and ran one hand down his face, tugging on his skin and distorting his lower lip. “... How?”

“...I fell asleep studying.” Uraraka’s lower lip was wobbling, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize my quirk activated until I woke up and released it!”

Aizawa exhaled through his nose. It whistled high pitched.

“How…” Aizawa paused, thinking through the wording better, “...How many of you have damages from accidental quirk activation.”

Iida’s head hung in disappointment. He lifted one hand, keeping his head in a respectful bow. Slowly, Mina lifted her hand while chewing on her lower lip. Kirishima did too, looking just as uncomfortable as Kaminari who was trying to not glance in the direction of the drier. Tokoyami sighed and joined the count.

“Right,” Aizawa looked more tired than angry over the situation, “and you tried to fix what you messed up?”

“Sir!” Momo interjected, looking ashamed but determined, “most of the repairs were minor! Shoji needed a new hinge for the cabinets, Tokoyami needed help installing a new railing! We didn’t want to bother you!”

Most of the repairs?”

“Todoroki blasted out that window.” Kirishima jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the floor to ceiling sheet of glass installed. “It took a day for us to repair it, Momo did all the hard work.”

Aizawa’s head snapped over to Todoroki, who was standing alone a little ways from the group.

Clearly uncomfortable, he shuffled under the scrutiny before confessing bluntly, “I sneezed.”

A list was drawn up, a series of repairs to be made to the building and various quirk accommodations that needed to be made. Mina was getting prescription gloves that were common for quirks with corrosive discharge or fluids. Apparently she had an old pair, but forgot them at her home and hadn’t the ability to go get them. Uraraka was getting ‘capped gloves’ which were a bit more difficult to get, but the design was relatively the same for quirks with full finger activation.

Blankets were written down for production, both with reinforced Kevlar weave and other fire retardant materials. Todoroki’s door and window frame would be replaced with aluminum, more resistant to temperature fluctuations and warping. Everything seemed reasonable; industrial solvent for Sero’s tape, supplies for drywall patching from Ojiro’s tail punching through. A new light fixture would be supplied and replaced. Rubber mats provided at the entryway of all doors and elevators, both for Iida’s engines and Kaminari’s static. Cementoss would be around to fix the damaged sidewalk outside from where Midoriya smashed it with a weight- apparently damages were worse over in the 1-B dorm so it would be a while still. The drier was being removed and sent to the support course students, likely for spare parts. A new one would be brought in at the soonest time, until then everyone would have to make do with air drying.

“Is there anything else?” Aizawa asked, looking far more frustrated and irritable now that it was nearly noon.

Nobody addressed the elephant in the room (or rather, the room on the fourth floor.)

The door opened and in stumbled Midoriya coated in dirt and mud, and a (suspiciously clean) Bakugo. The latter scowled at the sight of everyone crowded around him, the sharp stench of burnt sugar followed him like a kitchen disaster.

“A-Aizawa sensei!” Midoriya scrambled in alarm, shuffling into a respectful bow. A glob of mud- made from the thick sweat on the boy’s face and the dust on his skin, dripped off onto Aizawa’s shoe.

“Wonderful.” Aizawa deadpanned, “what have you broken, problem child.”

Midoriya paled before he scrambled backwards, raising both hands defensively and stuttered out sentences impossible to comprehend. The speed of his stuttering increased until he was reaching a cadence most auctioneers strive for. It was inspirational to watch, truly.

Bakugo clicked his tongue, leaning against the front door. His skin was slick with sweat, his hair wet and clumping near his scalp. His breathing was still heavy, eyes flickering around in suspicion.

“Aizawa-sensei is going to fix all the broken furniture!” Ashido cheered in delight, clapping her hands together. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Bakugo huffed a noise, shoving past Midoriya without a word. He mumbled to the kitchen, still in sight of everyone. Fishing out a glass for the tap, he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the group. “Which unlucky bastard told him about the bomb!”

Kaminari hissed under his breath, and Sero put his hands over his face.

Aizawa blinked calmly before his scarf started to levitate, eyes suspiciously red. “ Bomb?”


 

All of UA stood outside, held back by the thick fireproof flame retardant rope. It wouldn’t do much in an actual explosion, but it did help the few students who hadn’t managed control over their quirks. It was printed with standard Caution! All across the length. The bright red and blue lights flashed, the piercing wailing of sirens cut off only half an hour ago. The low mumbling of the entire UA staff and students was a painful whisper that punched against Aizawa’s temple like a cinder block. He wished he could have stayed home. Why did he have to deal with this on his day off.

“Yo!” His friend, Present Mic in full costume (called back from a patrol) laughed, swooping onto the scene to lean heavily on his friend. Aizawa staggered under the unexpected weight, nearly crumpling. “Not everyday you don’t expel anyone after they make a bomb in the dorms!”

Aizawa hissed out a low noise of outright fury. Present Mic cackled, the noise amplified by the hero costume speaker around his throat. “Aw don’t be like that! Give them points for creativity! This thing apparently could have taken out a quarter of the campus!”

“You are not helping.”

“You should be proud of their stealth! Their skills! The fact they almost killed everyone and you needed to call a Bomb Squad to disarm a pile of dirty socks!”

Aizawa groaned, finally let himself be tackled to the ground, and cursed once again the horrible class of 1A.