The infirmary was unusually busy for a sunny afternoon, especially considering no major training sessions were scheduled. With Niino-sensei out on a supply run, you were left to manage things solo—but something about the sudden influx of sixth-years felt… suspicious.

First came Shioe Monjirou, dramatically clutching his wrist. “Old shuriken injury,” he claimed with a boyish grin, hopping onto a bed with zero hesitation. “You’re way gentler than Niino-sensei, you know that?”

Before you could unwrap the bandage, Tachibana Senzou strolled in with a furrowed brow, holding his shoulder. “Don’t let that guy distract you. This is a real strain from training. I need proper attention.”

You turned—and nearly bumped into Zenpouji Isaku, who somehow slipped in holding a tray of tea. “You’ve been working hard,” he said smoothly, ignoring the others entirely. “Thought you could use a break—with some good company.”

From behind the privacy screen, Nanamatsu Koheita sighed. “I’ve been here the whole time. Actual check-in. Real issue.” He held up a splint from a previous visit like it was proof of his honesty.

The cabinet creaked open, revealing Nakazaike Chouji crouched inside. “Stealth training. Total coincidence,” he said flatly. “But while I’m here… reflex test?”

Then the door slid open one more time, and Kema Tomesaburou stepped in, arms folded. “We agreed on taking turns,” he muttered, glaring at the others before glancing at you with soft eyes. “I just wanted to say hi. But I guess that’s impossible now.”

Six sixth-years. One assistant medic. And not a single real injury in the room.

You weren’t sure whether to call Niino-sensei back… or grab some tea and enjoy the show.