Chapter 3: The Calm Before the Storm
The silence after Mina lowered her phone felt heavier than the locked woodshop cabinet. Ochaco stared at her own toes, face aflame. Momo smoothed her skirt with trembling hands, the pristine fabric a stark contrast to the vulnerability they’d just exposed. Toru’s gloves fluttered aimlessly near her invisible hips. Kyoka glared at the wall, the phantom sting of the camera flash lingering on her bare skin.
Then Mina let out a shaky, high-pitched giggle. It broke the tension like a dropped glass. "Okay," she squeaked, clearing her throat. "Okay! So! Operation: Before is officially complete! Now… uh… Operation: Survive is go!" She clapped her hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Knowledge is power, right? Who wants a crash course in… technique?"
Ochaco looked horrified. "T-technique?"
"Yep!" Mina bounced slightly, forcing energy into her voice. "How to… receive." She grabbed Ochaco’s shoulders, steering her towards the nearest bed. "Think of me as your sensei for the next five minutes. Lie down! Across Ochaco’s lap! Go on!"
"Wh-what? Mina, no!" Ochaco yelped, stumbling forward.
"Trust the process!" Mina insisted, pushing firmly until Ochaco was bent awkwardly over the edge of the mattress, her upper body draped across Ochaco’s thighs. Ochaco yelped again, flailing slightly. "Perfect positioning!" Mina declared, ignoring Ochaco’s muffled protests. She patted Ochaco’s covered backside with mock seriousness. "See? Elevated target. Good access. Midnight’s gonna appreciate this."
Kyoka snorted. "She appreciates wood, Ashido, not your stupid demonstrations."
"Details, details," Mina waved a hand dismissively. She raised her own hand high. "Okay, observe! The classic approach." She brought her hand down in a swift, sharp smack! on Ochaco’s skirt-covered rear.
"Yow!" Ochaco yelped, more from surprise than actual pain. She twisted, trying to look back. "Mina!"
"See?" Mina chirped, ignoring Ochaco’s glare. "Sudden! Sharp! Makes you jump!" She delivered two more quick, stinging pats. Smack! Smack! "Breathing! In through the nose…" Mina took an exaggerated inhale. "Out through the mouth when it lands!" Smack! "Like this: Haaaa!"
Ochaco, caught between indignation and the absurdity, let out a surprised giggle. "Haaa! Mina, stop it!" Her laughter, high and breathless, was infectious.
Smack! "See?" Mina grinned, delivering another light tap. "Laughing helps! Distraction! Also, wiggle those toes! Sounds weird, but it kinda… diffuses it?" Ochaco wiggled her toes furiously, dissolving into genuine, cathartic laughter, her face buried in the mattress.
Toru’s giggle bubbled up nearby. "You look ridiculous, Ochaco!"
"Feel ridiculous!" Ochaco gasped between laughs, her accent thick.
Momo watched, a small, reluctant smile touching her lips. Kyoka rolled her eyes, but the tense line of her shoulders eased just a fraction. Mina patted Ochaco’s back. "Alright, student, you passed. Barely." She helped a still-giggling Ochaco sit up. "Who’s next? Toru? How do you spank the invisible girl?"
Toru’s gloves slapped lightly against the presumed spot. "Just gotta aim true! I have faith in Midnight’s accuracy!"
The shared absurdity melted the last of the paralyzing dread. Mina flopped dramatically onto her own bed. "Seriously, though, guys. It sucks. It really, really stings. And it feels like it lasts forever. But it does end." She rubbed her own backside absently. "Big breaths. Don’t hold it in. And… maybe don’t make your own paddle extra thick, Kyoka?" She shot a pointed look.
Kyoka’s hand drifted unconsciously towards her skirt pocket. "Shut up," she muttered, but there was no heat.
Momo nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Controlled exhalation during impact makes physiological sense. It reduces tension and mitigates the perception of acute pain. We should practice that. Deep breath in…" She demonstrated, filling her lungs. "...and sustained exhale on impact. Haaaaaa."
"Exactly!" Mina pointed at her. "See? Momo gets it."
A sudden, shared impulse moved them. Ochaco, still flushed but smiling, stood and opened her arms. Mina scrambled up and launched herself into them. Toru’s gloves wrapped around both their waists. After a brief hesitation, Momo stepped forward, her embrace joining the huddle. They stood, a tangled knot of limbs and nervous energy, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling.
Kyoka stood apart, arms crossed. "You guys look ridiculous," she grumbled.
"Come on, Jiro," Mina’s voice was muffled from within the hug. "Group solidarity! Hug it out before we get paddled out!"
Kyoka hesitated. The vulnerability of the photos, the shared laughter, the terrifying solidarity... it was too much. With a huff that sounded suspiciously like a sob caught in her throat, she took one stiff step forward, then another. Ochaco reached out a hand, snagging Kyoka's wrist, gently pulling her into the circle. Kyoka resisted for a second, then sagged into the embrace, her forehead bumping against Momo’s shoulder. Her arms came up stiffly, then tightened, fingers clutching the fabric of Ochaco’s shirt. It was warm. Safe. A temporary shield.
They stood like that for a long moment, breathing together. The cheap perfume was gone, replaced by the scent of nervous sweat and shared resolve. Mina’s voice was soft against Toru’s unseen shoulder. "Just breathe, okay? In…" They inhaled shakily in unison. "Out when it hits. Haaaa. Wiggle your toes. It’s just pain. It passes."
"What if I cry?" Ochaco whispered, her voice small.
"Then you cry," Momo murmured. "There’s no shame in it. I think we all will end up crying knowing Midnight."
"What if I puke?" Kyoka’s voice was barely audible, muffled against Momo.
Mina gave a weak chuckle. "Try not to aim at Midnight’s boots?"
The fragile bubble of their group hug popped with Mina’s morbid joke. Nervous chuckles died in throats. They untangled slowly, fingers lingering on sleeves, reluctant to lose the contact.
Mina clapped her hands again, the sound brittle. "Alright, last pro tip before showtime. Seriously important." She leaned in, lowering her voice like sharing classified intel. "Your butt cheeks. Don't clench 'em. Like, at all." She poked Ochaco’s hip for emphasis. "I know every instinct screams to tighten up. Resist!"
Ochaco frowned, shifting her weight. "But wouldn't that... hurt more?"
"Opposite!" Mina insisted, her eyes wide with urgency. "If you tense up, it’s like slapping concrete. The paddle wins, every damn time. Bam! Shockwave straight to the bone." She mimicked a violent recoil. "Relax the muscles. Seriously. Let 'em go jiggly. It absorbs the impact way better. Sounds gross, feels weird, but trust me."
Momo blinked, processing. "Like a non-Newtonian fluid? Applying sudden force to a relaxed state disperses the energy more effectively than a rigid one." Her hand absently brushed her own skirt. "That... makes a surprising amount of sense."
Kyoka snorted, crossing her arms tight. "Great. So we just gotta go in there, bend over, and think floppy pancake. Easy." Sarcasm dripped, but her knuckles were white where she gripped her elbows.
"Exactly!" Mina pointed at Kyoka, ignoring the tone. "Floppy pancake mode. Embrace the jiggle. It’s the only defense against carved maple." She rubbed her own backside unconsciously. "Relax the cheeks, deep breath out on the whack, wiggle the toes. Survival package."
Toru’s gloves waved excitedly near her presumed rear. "Jiggle mode activated! Though, you know, hard to tell if I'm doing it right..." Her voice held a flicker of doubt about her invisibility plan for the first time.
"Midnight’ll know," Ochaco muttered, her Mie accent thickening with anxiety. She smoothed her skirt repeatedly, a nervous tic. "She’ll feel it. Or s-see the ripple..."
The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. The stark dorm walls seemed to press closer. The faint scent of Mina's bubblegum perfume mixed unpleasantly with the tang of cold sweat. Kyoka’s gaze drifted back to the locked cabinet where their custom paddles awaited – especially her own thick, heavy creation. Momo clasped her hands tightly in front of her, lips moving silently, rehearsing breathing techniques.
The sharp scent of Mina’s bubblegum perfume clashed violently with the lingering smell of cold sweat. Momo clasped her hands tightly in front of her, lips moving silently, rehearsing breathing techniques. In… haaaa out… The imagined crack of maple against skin echoed louder than any real sound.
"Okay," Mina announced, slapping her thighs. The forced brightness in her voice scraped against the quiet. "Operation: Freak Out is officially paused. Operation: Sleep Now, Panic Tomorrow is a go. Who wants lukewarm tea? My secret stash!" She rummaged under her pillow, pulling out contraband teabags.
Kyoka flinched at the sudden movement. "Pass. Tea just means more… later bathroom breaks. Bad plan." Her hand drifted again to her skirt pocket, tracing the outline of the heavy paddle blank she'd sanded earlier. Its imagined weight felt like lead.
Ochaco managed a tiny smile. "Tea sounds nice, actually. Calming. Maybe." Her fingers still smoothed her skirt compulsively. "My grandma always said warm tea fixes nerves. Well, most nerves." The 'most' hung heavy.
"See? Ochaco gets it!" Mina chirped, shoving a floral-patterned bag into Ochaco's hands. "Boiling water, stat! Toru, be a dear?" Toru’s gloves vanished towards the communal kettle. "Momo? Jiro? Sure? Last chance before the maple-induced apocalypse."
Momo shook her head, still focused on her breathing rhythm. "No, thank you, Mina. I need clarity, not sedation. And… hydration management is a valid concern Kyoka raised." She glanced towards the locked cabinet as if it might spontaneously combust. Kyoka just grunted, leaning against a bedpost.
The kettle hissed, a thin plume of steam rising. Toru’s invisible fingers fumbled slightly pouring the hot water into two mugs Mina procured. The mundane act – pouring tea in a sterile dorm room – felt surreal against the backdrop of their impending punishment. Ochaco cradled the warm mug, letting the heat seep into her chilled fingers. "Smells like… chamomile?"
"Emergency stash!" Mina declared, blowing on her own mug. "Guaranteed to induce mild drowsiness and questionable decision-making. Like… agreeing to pose for awkward 'before' pics." She winked, a shadow of her usual mischief returning.
Kyoka rolled her eyes hard. "Speak for yourself, Ashido. Some of us weren't exactly volunteering." But the corner of her mouth twitched, almost against her will. Ochaco giggled, a fragile sound. "My face still feels hot from that flash."
They settled onto the edges of beds, sipping the weak tea in silence for a moment. The warmth was a small comfort, a tiny anchor in the churning sea of dread. Momo finally lowered her hands, her breathing marginally steadier. "Mina," she began, her voice unusually soft. "This… ‘floppy pancake’ technique. Are you absolutely certain about the physics? Relaxing the gluteus maximus under impact… it seems counterintuitive to pain mitigation."
Mina swallowed her tea. "Swear on Midnight's favorite paddle, Momo. Clench, and it’s like hitting rock. Bam! Shock straight to your spine, rattles your teeth. Relax? It stings like hellfire, yeah, but it’s… spread out? Absorbed? Less… structural damage." She rubbed her own rear again. "Feels sloppy. Works better."
Toru's glove waved near her mug. "Jiggle physics! Got it! Though, kinda wish I could see if I'm doing it right…"
"Midnight’ll let you know," Ochaco murmured, her accent thickening. "Loud and clear, I bet." She took another sip, the warmth failing to reach her eyes. Kyoka shifted, the bedsprings groaning under her weight. The silence deepened, thick with unspoken fears – the crack of wood, the bite of pain, the raw humiliation of exposure, the terrifying unknown of their own handmade instruments of discipline.
Then Mina set her mug down with a decisive clink. "Group hug redux," she declared, standing abruptly. "Mandatory pre-paddle solidarity. No arguments." Ochaco stood immediately, setting her tea aside. Toru’s gloves were already reaching out. Momo hesitated only a breath before rising.
Kyoka stayed seated. "Pass."
"Jiro," Mina said, her tone losing its playful edge. It was flat. Serious. "Get over here. Now." She held out her arms.
Kyoka stared at the offered embrace, her jaw tight. The vulnerability felt like sandpaper on raw nerves. But the shared dread in the room, the phantom sting of the camera flash, the terrifying weight of the paddle in her pocket… it was too much. With a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl, she pushed herself up. Ochaco grabbed her wrist, not gently this time, and pulled her firmly into the circle. Kyoka stumbled into the center, Momo catching her shoulder.
They huddled close, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling – Momo’s measured inhalations, Ochaco’s shaky sighs, Mina’s forced steadiness, Toru’s light hum, Kyoka’s ragged exhale. The cheap floral tea scent mixed with sweat and fear. Mina’s voice was a low murmur against the unseen curve of Toru’s shoulder. "Breathe. Haaaa out on the hit. Floppy pancake. Wiggle toes. It ends. We survive. Together." Ochaco sniffled quietly. Kyoka’s stiff arms finally came up, wrapping awkwardly around Momo’s waist, her grip tight. Momo rested her chin on Kyoka’s purple hair.
"Just… try not to scream too loud, okay?" Mina whispered, a shaky attempt at humor. "My ears are sensitive."
Kyoka snorted, the vibration trembling through the group. "Shut up, Ashido." There was no bite. Just exhaustion. They stood like that, a fortress of shared dread and fragile support, for one long, quiet minute. The sterile dorm air felt warmer inside their circle.
Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled apart. Fingers lingered on sleeves. No one met anyone else's eyes directly. Mina stretched, an exaggerated yawn cracking her jaw. "Right! Bed. Now. Gotta get some beauty sleep before our… red carpet event tomorrow."
Ochaco nodded, wiping quickly at her eyes. "Yeah. Sleep." She turned towards her bed. Toru’s gloves fluttered a cheerful, unconvincing goodnight wave before seeming to glide towards her own bunk. Momo smoothed her skirt one last time, a final, controlled gesture, and moved with quiet purpose. Kyoka just stood for a second, staring at the floor, the lingering warmth of the hug already fading, replaced by the cold dread pooling in her stomach. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, fingers brushing the rough, heavy wood of her paddle blank. She didn't look at the cabinet.
One by one, the lights clicked off. The dorm plunged into darkness, only the faint glow of an exit sign casting long, distorted shadows. The rustle of sheets. The creak of a mattress. Mina’s whispered, "G'night, floppy pancakes," earned a weak chuckle from Ochaco and a soft sigh from Momo. Kyoka lay rigidly on her back, staring into the oppressive dark, listening to the too-fast, too-shallow breathing of her friends. The scent of cold chamomile tea and fear lingered. Tomorrow loomed, vast and terrifying. The maple waited.