the last class

Rain hammered against the windows of U.A.’s classroom.

Izuku Midoriya stared outside, watching the grey sky swallow the last traces of daylight.

Something about today felt wrong.

He couldn’t explain it. Nothing had happened. No alarms had gone off. Nobody had attacked them. It was just a feeling—a tiny voice in the back of his mind telling him that he should be somewhere else.

“Midoriya.”

Izuku jumped.

Aizawa stood at the front of the classroom, looking as tired as ever.

“Sorry, sir!”

A few students laughed.

Bakugo clicked his tongue from the other side of the room.

“Still jumpy as hell, Deku.”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Kacchan.”

“Don’t call me—”

“Quiet.”

Aizawa’s voice immediately silenced the room.

He held up a folder.

“We have a mission.”

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Everyone sat up.

“A few days ago, the Hero Commission received a distress signal from an abandoned training facility outside the city.”

Kirishima frowned.

“Abandoned?”

“Officially, yes.”

Aizawa placed several photographs on the desk.

The images showed a huge concrete building surrounded by forest. Most of the windows were broken, and vines crawled over the walls.

“The facility was used for quirk research and hero training approximately fifteen years ago.”

Uraraka raised her hand.

“What happened to it?”

Aizawa paused.

“An incident.”

The room went quiet.

“That’s all the official report says.”

Bakugo leaned back in his chair.

“So we’re going to investigate some creepy old building because the Commission couldn’t be bothered to tell us what happened?”

“Essentially.”

“Great.”

Aizawa ignored him.

“Your assignment is reconnaissance. You are not to engage any villains unless absolutely necessary. You stay together, follow my instructions, and report anything unusual.”

Midoriya looked at the photographs again.

There was something strange about them.

Every picture seemed to have been taken from outside.

Except one.

It showed a long hallway inside the facility.

At the far end stood a doorway.

And on the wall beside it was a faded number:

13.

Izuku stared at it.

“Sir?”

Aizawa looked at him.

“Yes?”

“Why does that hallway have a camera?”

Aizawa’s expression changed.

Only for a second.

But Izuku noticed.

“I don’t know.”

Two hours later, Class 1-A stood outside the facility.

The rain had stopped.

The forest was silent.

Far too silent.

Bakugo shoved his hands into his pockets.

“This place sucks.”

“Agreed,” Kaminari said. “Ten out of ten haunted-house vibes.”

“It’s not haunted,” Iida insisted. “There is no scientific evidence supporting—”

A branch snapped somewhere in the forest.

Everyone froze.

Kaminari slowly looked around.

“...I retract my previous statement.”

Aizawa sighed.

“Inside.”

The enormous metal doors groaned as they opened.

One by one, the students entered.

Izuku followed near the middle of the group.

Bakugo walked several steps ahead.

Every instinct Izuku had was telling him to stay close.

He quickened his pace.

“Kacchan.”

Bakugo glanced over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Maybe we should stay together.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow.

“You scared, Deku?”

“No! I just think—”

“Then keep up.”

Izuku smiled faintly.

“Right.”

They continued down the hallway.

Their footsteps echoed strangely.

Too loudly.

Izuku looked at the walls.

Old photographs had been torn down, leaving pale rectangles where they had once hung.

Then he noticed something.

A scratch.

Three long lines across the wall.

Then another.

And another.

They continued down the corridor.

Izuku swallowed.

“Kacchan...”

“What now?”

“Look.”

Bakugo followed his gaze.

His expression hardened.

“Those aren’t from a normal weapon.”

Before either of them could say anything else—

CLICK.

The lights turned off.

Complete darkness swallowed the hallway.

Someone screamed.

“Everyone stay where you are!” Aizawa shouted.

Izuku heard several people moving.

“Don’t move!”

“I’m right here!” Uraraka called.

“Iida?”

“Present!”

“Kirishima?”

“Here!”

One by one, the class answered.

Izuku breathed out.

Everyone was there.

Everyone...

Except—

“Kacchan?”

No answer.

Izuku’s heart dropped.

“Kacchan?”

Still nothing.

He reached forward in the darkness.

His hand found empty air.

“Aizawa-sensei?”

No answer.

Izuku’s stomach twisted.

The emergency lights suddenly flickered on.

Red light flooded the hallway.

Everyone stood exactly where they had been.

Everyone except Bakugo.

Izuku stared at the empty space beside him.

“No...”

Aizawa immediately stepped forward.

“Nobody moves.”

“But Kacchan—”

“I said nobody moves.”

Izuku looked down the hallway.

At the very end, the door marked 13 stood open.

He was certain it had been closed before.

Then something moved inside.

A shadow.

Small.

Familiar.

Izuku’s breath caught.

“Kacchan?”

Aizawa grabbed his shoulder.

“Midoriya.”

But Izuku couldn’t stop staring.

The shadow slowly stepped into the red light.

Spiky hair.

School uniform.

Ash-blond hair.

Bakugo.

Izuku’s relief was immediate.

“Kacchan!”

He started forward.

Bakugo didn’t move.

He simply stared at Izuku.

His face was completely blank.

Izuku slowed.

“...Kacchan?”

Bakugo tilted his head.

“Who are you?”

The hallway went silent.

Izuku felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath him.

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know you.”

Behind him, inside Room 13, something scratched slowly against the wall.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And then a voice whispered from the darkness:

“He’s not the one you lost.”