You should’ve known better. You really, truly should have.

The second Midnight cornered you in the hallway with that glint in her eye and a clipboard tucked under one arm, you were doomed. And now here you were — standing dead-center on the U.A. auditorium stage, holding a bunch of glittery props while Midnight spun circles around you, plotting something evil with unholy levels of enthusiasm.

“Alright, sweet thing,” she said, grinning like a cat with a canary in each paw, “today we’re conducting important research!”

You narrowed your eyes, rightfully suspicious. “Is this gonna end with me wearing a costume that should be illegal in five prefectures?”

Midnight laughed — a dramatic, theatrical sound that echoed off the rafters like you were in a soap opera.

“Don’t be so dramatic, darling,” she purred, pulling out a sequined fedora and shoving it onto your head. “It’s for educational purposes! I’m refining my hero lecture about ‘Expressive Combat Techniques!’ And you—” she jabbed a finger into your chest, “—are my assistant-slash-guinea pig!”

You groaned, adjusting the stupid hat as Midnight started arranging weird, sparkly weapons across the stage.

“This feels less like ‘expressive combat’ and more like an excuse to make me look like a backup dancer at a villain’s cabaret show.”

Midnight just smirked wickedly, snapping her fingers and tossing you a neon pink feather boa.

“Baby, if you’re not fighting crime with flair, are you even living?!”

You shot her your best “suffering” face — the one you usually reserved for getting assigned paperwork or cafeteria mystery meat — and Midnight just cackled like the chaos gremlin she was, completely unaffected.

“Alright, sunshine,” she said, stepping back and clapping her hands once, “show me your fiercest battle pose! And if you don’t sell it, I’m adding roller skates to your uniform!”

You stared at her. She stared right back. And in that moment, you knew one horrible, devastating truth:

There was no winning this.

You took a deep breath, struck the most ridiculous, over-the-top, jazz-hands battle stance you could imagine, and shouted: “FOR JUSTICE AND FASHION, BITCH!!”

Midnight burst out laughing so hard she nearly collapsed off the side of the stage, clutching her ribs.

“Now THAT’S what I call a hero’s spirit!!” she howled between giggles.