Chapter 5: Experienced to the front
The click of Midnight’s heels on the linoleum floor of the detention corridor sounded like gunshots in the suffocating silence. Kyoka kept her eyes fixed on the back of Ochaco’s neck, tracing the tense line of her shoulders beneath her uniform. The sterile smell of disinfectant clawed at her throat, sharp and unforgiving. Ahead, Mina walked with unnaturally stiff posture, her usual bounce utterly absent. Momo’s head was held high, but Kyoka’s sensitive hearing picked up the rapid, shallow rhythm of her breathing. Toru was utterly silent, her footsteps barely perceptible whispers.
Midnight stopped before an unmarked metal door. The key turned with a heavy, final clunk. The door swung open, revealing a room that matched Kyoka’s dread: stark white walls, harsh fluorescent lighting, a long, utilitarian metal table surrounded by hard plastic chairs. A single, loud clock ticked relentlessly above the door. 2:59 PM it declared, a mocking reminder.
"Inside," Midnight commanded, her voice devoid of its earlier purr, replaced by cool authority. She gestured with a gloved hand. "Single file. Stand facing the far wall."
The girls shuffled in, the scrape of their shoes echoing unnaturally loud. Kyoka felt the cold air prickle her skin. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in. Midnight walked slowly to the head of the table, her gaze sweeping over them like a searchlight.
"Turn around," she instructed. They obeyed, a ragged line facing her. Kyoka felt exposed, pinned under that assessing blue stare. Midnight’s expression was unreadable, a mask of professional detachment that somehow amplified the tension.
"Against the back wall," Midnight gestured with a tilt of her chin, "you will find a cabinet. Inside are the implements you crafted yesterday. Each bears your name." Her voice was calm, factual. "Retrieve yours. Hold it vertically in front of you. Both hands."
Kyoka’s stomach lurched. Her feet felt leaden as she turned with the others. Mina reached the cabinet first, her hand trembling slightly as she pulled the latch. Inside, leaning against the metal shelves, were five paddles. Kyoka spotted hers instantly – the dense maple block she’d stupidly chosen, its surface sanded smooth but radiating a brutal weight. Mina pulled out her own – a slightly thinner, longer piece of oak – her knuckles white as she gripped it. Toru’s gloves fumbled for a moment before grasping a paddle of pale ash. Ochaco took hers, a sturdy cherry wood paddle, her face pale. Momo retrieved hers with stiff dignity – a dark walnut paddle, elegantly shaped but undeniably substantial.
Kyoka reached for hers last. The wood felt colder than the room, heavier than she remembered. She wrapped both hands around the handle, the thick wood pressing uncomfortably against her palms. Too thick. Way too thick. The thought screamed in her head. She held it vertically in front of her chest like a shield she knew wouldn’t protect her. The others did the same, forming a line of terrified sentinels clutching their instruments of punishment.
Midnight observed them, her gaze lingering on each paddle, each pair of wide, apprehensive eyes. The ticking clock filled the silence.
"Now," Midnight began, her voice cutting through the oppressive quiet. "A simple question. Raise your paddle hand if you have experienced corporal punishment before. Specifically, a spanking administered with an implement like this."
Kyoka held her breath. Mina’s hand shot up immediately, clutching her oak paddle. Her face was flushed, but she held Midnight’s gaze.
"Ashido," Midnight acknowledged neutrally.
Toru’s gloved hand wavered, then slowly rose. "Um, once? Sort of? My mom used a wooden spoon when I was little? Does that count?" Her voice sounded thin and disembodied.
"It counts," Midnight stated. "Hagakure."
Silence. Ochaco stared fixedly at her cherry paddle. Momo’s knuckles were bone-white on her walnut grip. Kyoka felt the rough grain digging into her skin. She kept her hands firmly locked around the thick maple handle, staring straight ahead at a smudge on the white wall.
"Very well," Midnight said after a beat. Her tone remained level, but a new layer of intent seemed to settle over her. "Ashido, front and center. Hagakure, beside her."
Mina swallowed visibly but stepped forward, positioning herself directly in front of Midnight. Toru’s gloves shifted as she moved hesitantly to Mina’s right.
"Yaoyorozu," Midnight continued, her gaze shifting down the line. "To Hagakure’s right."
Momo took a steadying breath, her posture rigidly correct, and moved beside Toru. The walnut paddle trembled slightly in her grasp.
"Uraraka," Midnight said. Ochaco flinched almost imperceptibly, her Mie accent thickening as she whispered, "Hai," before stepping stiffly beside Momo.
Kyoka was left alone at the end. Midnight’s gaze finally landed on her, cool and penetrating. "Jiro. End of the line."
Kyoka shuffled forward, the soles of her boots scraping loudly. She took her place beside Ochaco, acutely aware of the thick maple paddle she held. The lineup was complete: Mina, Toru, Momo, Ochaco, Kyoka. Experience dwindling to terrified inexperience.
Midnight walked slowly down the line, her heels clicking rhythmically on the hard floor. She stopped before Mina, her eyes appraising the girl who stood clutching her paddle like a lifeline. Mina tried for a weak smile, but it faltered instantly under Midnight’s scrutiny.
"You understand why you are here, Ashido?" Midnight asked, her voice low but carrying perfectly in the silent room.
Mina nodded jerkily. "Y-yes, Midnight-sensei. Distracted training. Lack of focus."
"Endangering yourself and your teammates through negligence," Midnight corrected smoothly. "A hero’s lapse can cost lives. Today, it costs your comfort." She moved past Mina to stand before Toru. The floating gloves tightened on the ash paddle.
"And you, Hagakure? Your misplaced optimism does not exempt you from consequence."
"I… I know, sensei," Toru’s voice quavered. "I wasn’t focused either."
Midnight continued down the line. Momo met her gaze with forced calm, though her knuckles were white. Ochaco stared fixedly at the floor, her shoulders hunched. Kyoka kept her eyes locked on the wall, feeling Midnight’s presence loom closer, the heavy scent of her perfume mingling with the smell of wood and fear.
Midnight stopped before Kyoka, her gaze dropping pointedly to the thick maple paddle clutched in her hands. Kyoka felt a hot flush crawl up her neck. Midnight didn’t comment on its thickness. She didn’t need to. The weight of it, the sheer density Kyoka had chosen in a moment of defiance or stupidity, spoke volumes.
"First times," Midnight said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper that somehow carried to every corner of the room. She wasn't just speaking to Kyoka, but to Momo and Ochaco as well. "They carry a particular weight. A lesson etched deeper." Her blue eyes held Kyoka’s for a fraction of a second longer, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps understanding, perhaps just assessment – before she turned sharply on her heel.
Midnight’s sharp turn echoed in the tense silence. She paced back to the front, the click of her boots a deliberate counterpoint to the frantic ticking clock. "Combat drills demand absolute focus," she stated, her voice slicing through the stale air. "Distraction isn't carelessness; it's a betrayal. It tells your classmates their lives matter less than your wandering thoughts."
She stopped, surveying the line of girls clutching their instruments of punishment. Mina flinched under her gaze; Toru’s gloves tightened audibly on her paddle. "Your negligence wasn't just sloppy," Midnight continued, her tone hardening. "It was dangerous. Today, you learn the price of that lapse. Pain is the quickest teacher for recklessness."
Her eyes swept over Momo’s rigid posture, Ochaco’s downcast eyes, Kyoka’s death-grip on the thick maple. "This isn't humiliation for humiliation's sake. It's calibration." The scent of her perfume, something dark and floral, warred with the sharp tang of fear sweat. "You need to feel the consequence, remember it in your muscles, so next time? Your body chooses focus before your mind even wavers. Understood?"
A ragged chorus of "Hai, Midnight-sensei," whispered through the room. Kyoka’s voice caught in her throat. Her palms were slick against the maple.
Midnight nodded once, a sharp, decisive motion. "Then prove you understand the gravity. Prove you accept the lesson." She paused, letting the weight of expectation settle over them like a physical thing. "Shorts and panties. Down to your ankles. Now."
The command hung, brutal and absolute. Kyoka’s breath hitched. Ochaco made a tiny, choked sound beside her. Mina’s face, already pale, drained completely of color.
Momo moved first. With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned her shorts, the click of the fastener absurdly loud. They slid down her legs, pooling around her ankles. Her plain, white cotton panties followed a second later, joining the puddle of fabric. She stood ramrod straight, chin lifted, but a faint tremor ran through her thighs.
Ochaco fumbled with her button, her Mie accent thickening her whisper. "S-sorry..." Her shorts dropped, followed quickly by simple pink panties. She stared resolutely at the floor, ears burning crimson.
Kyoka’s fingers felt numb, clumsy. She wrestled with the button on her own punk-style shorts, the thick denim resisting. Too thick paddle, too thick shorts, her mind screamed uselessly. They finally gave way, dropping heavily around her heavy boots. Her black lace panties, a defiant choice that felt pathetic now, followed. The cold air of the detention room prickled against her bare skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the maple paddle like an anchor.
Beside her, Toru’s invisible hands fluttered nervously. The rustle of fabric was the only sign – her shorts then her panties falling in sequence to land on the floor beside her sneakers. "C-cold," her disembodied voice whispered, shaky.
Mina took a shaky breath. "Right. Okay. Here goes nothing." She yanked her shorts down with forced bravado, revealing bright yellow briefs that clashed violently with the sterile room. They joined the others at her ankles. She stood, legs slightly apart, trying to project a toughness her trembling lower lip betrayed.
They stood exposed, five girls reduced to trembling skin and bare vulnerability before Midnight’s imposing figure. The discarded clothes lay like colourful islands on the cold linoleum. Goosebumps rose on pale skin – Momo’s, Ochaco’s, Kyoka’s, Toru’s unseen – and Mina’s darker thighs. The only sound was the relentless tick-tick-tick and their own shallow breathing. Midnight’s gaze was a physical pressure, moving slowly down the line, taking in their postures, the tension in their shoulders, the way they each subtly tried to angle themselves away.
She walked back to the long metal table, the sound deliberate. "Paddles," she commanded, gesturing to the tabletop without looking back. "Place them here. Handle towards me."
Kyoka shuffled forward first, desperate to release the heavy maple. She laid it down with a soft thud, the thick wood seeming to dominate the surface. Mina placed her oak paddle beside it, then Toru’s ash. Momo’s walnut followed with precise care. Ochaco set her cherry wood down gently, almost reverently.
"Good," Midnight said, her voice low. She rested a gloved hand lightly on the row of paddles, fingertips brushing the smooth wood. She turned, facing the line of bare-skinned students, her blue eyes sharp and unwavering. "Ashido. You have some experience. You understand the expectation." She pointed to the center of the room. "Position yourself over the end of the table. Bend fully at the waist. Grasp the far edge."
Mina swallowed hard, the sound audible in the silent room. "Right. Okay." Her voice cracked slightly. She shuffled forward, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. Her yellow briefs seemed absurdly bright against the sterile grey floor.
She stopped at the end of the long metal table. Midnight watched, impassive. Mina bent slowly at the waist, folding herself over the unforgiving edge. The metal dug into her hip bones. She stretched her arms out, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the far edge. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped it.
"Feet apart," Midnight instructed, her tone clipped. Mina shuffled her feet wider, bracing herself. Her exposed backside felt impossibly vulnerable, raised and centered under the harsh lights. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against the cool metal.
Midnight walked slowly towards the paddles laid out on the table. Her gloved fingers trailed over the wood – Mina’s oak, Toru’s ash, Momo’s walnut, Ochaco’s cherry, Kyoka’s thick maple. She stopped beside Mina’s prone form.
"Hold position," Midnight commanded. Mina nodded jerkily, her breath coming in short gasps. Midnight turned her attention to the others still standing rigidly against the wall. "Hagakure. Yaoyorozu. Uraraka. Jiro. Step forward. Closer to the table."
They shuffled forward as one, bare feet whispering on the floor. Kyoka kept her gaze fixed on Mina’s trembling legs, trying to ignore the prickling heat on her own exposed skin. Ochaco’s breathing hitched beside her. Momo stood unnaturally still, her jaw clenched.
"You will observe," Midnight stated, her voice cutting through the thick air. "You will see the consequence of distraction enacted. You will understand what awaits you." She paused, letting the weight of that sink in. The clock ticked, impossibly loud. "Ashido’s experience affords her no leniency today. It demands higher expectations."
Midnight moved back towards the paddles. She picked up Mina’s oak paddle, testing its weight in her hand. The wood made a soft, ominous thwap against her palm. Mina flinched at the sound.
"Midnight-sensei?" Toru’s disembodied voice piped up, thin with nerves. "Um… where should I… stand? Exactly?"
Midnight turned, her gaze sharpening. She looked directly at the space where Toru stood. "Positioning is crucial for observation, Hagakure." A slight, knowing curve touched Midnight’s lips. "And one more thing."
She reached into a small pouch on her utility belt. Her hand emerged holding a sleek, silver bracelet. Before Toru could react, Midnight stepped forward with surprising speed. She grasped Toru’s invisible wrist firmly.
The cool metal clasp snapped shut.
A shimmering wave cascaded over Toru Hagakure’s form, starting from the bracelet and rippling outward. In an instant, the invisibility dissolved. Toru stood fully revealed – her pinkish-blonde hair slightly messy, her wide, startled eyes magnified by her glasses, her face frozen in shock. She wore only her U.A. gym shirt, her shorts and panties pooled around her ankles like the others.
She gasped, a sharp, horrified intake of breath. Her free hand flew instinctively to cover herself, then jerked away uselessly, hovering in the air. Her skin flushed a deep, mortified crimson, spreading from her cheeks down her neck and across her bare shoulders and chest. "N-no!" she stammered, her voice thick with panic. "Sensei! Please!"
The other girls stared, momentarily stunned. Kyoka saw Ochaco flinch in sympathy. Momo’s controlled expression faltered, genuine pity flashing in her eyes. Mina, still bent over the table, twisted her head slightly, her eyes wide.
Toru trembled violently, trying to shrink in on herself, utterly exposed under the fluorescent glare and the horrified gazes of her classmates. Her glasses slipped down her nose. Tears welled in her wide, terrified eyes. "Make it stop," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please… I can’t…"
Midnight’s expression remained stern, though a flicker of something – perhaps regret, perhaps resolve – passed through her eyes. "The bracelet ensures visibility during discipline, Hagakure. No hiding. No exceptions. Stand beside Yaoyorozu. Face forward." Her tone brooked no argument. "Observe."
Toru whimpered, a small, broken sound. She shuffled numbly beside Momo, her entire body radiating shame and terror. She kept her head bowed, tears dripping onto the cold floor. Midnight turned back to Mina, who had frozen completely during the revelation.
Midnight hefted the oak paddle again. She took a measured step back, aligning herself perfectly behind Mina’s raised, trembling form. The silence deepened, thick with dread and Toru’s muffled sobs. Midnight raised the paddle high, her arm drawing back with deliberate, terrifying slowness. The wood gleamed under the harsh light. Mina squeezed her eyes shut tighter, bracing against the metal table edge, her knuckles bone-white. The paddle paused at its apex.