The buses rumbled to a stop along the coast, hissing as their doors folded open. A blast of salty wind and the cry of seagulls greeted both classes as they stepped off, eyes widening at the glittering ocean stretching endlessly before them.

“U.A. Aquatic Training Facility—Beach Division,” Vlad King announced with his usual seriousness.

“YEEEEEAH, BEACH PARTY!!” Yamada-sensei immediately hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth. His voice carried so loud the gulls scattered.

“Oi! Don’t ignore the training part!” Aizawa-sensei grumbled from beneath his capture scarf, already regretting this field trip.

But the students hardly listened.

“Finally! Sun, sand, and no homework!” Ashido Mina cheered, spinning in the sand with her towel flapping behind her. She tugged on Jirō Kyōka’s wrist. “Come on, Jirō-chan, we’re getting in the water right now!”

“Wait, Ashido-san!” Jirō protested, stumbling as she clutched her beach bag. “We literally just got here—!”

Monoma Neito stepped out dramatically, hand raised against the sun as though he were posing for a magazine cover. “Heh. Witness, Class 1-A. Every competition, every challenge today, Class 1-B will reign supreme!”

“Monoma-kun,” Kendo Itsuka sighed, already flexing her enlarged hand, “if you start trouble before we even unpack, I’ll plant you in the sand like a beach umbrella.”

Bakugō Katsuki growled, already yanking off his shirt and stomping toward the shoreline. “Tch. Screw this chatter! Oi, Dunce-Face! Get over here—we’re settling this with a match right now!”

“Eh?! W-wait, Bakugō-kun!” Kaminari Denki yelped, nearly tripping over his flip-flops as he chased after him. “At least let me stretch first!”

Meanwhile, Yaoyorozu Momo had already produced an entire stack of coolers and utensils from her quirk. “Sato-kun, if you’ll take over grilling duties, I can assist with preparation. Tokoyami-kun, please keep the marshmallows from catching fire this time.”

Tokoyami Fumikage tilted his head solemnly, holding a bag of skewers like an offering to the abyss. “The darkness of the flame consumes all… it cannot be restrained.”

Kirishima Eijirō barked out a laugh, jogging toward the net set up farther down the sand. “Alright, enough talk! Let’s settle this! Class 1-A versus Class 1-B, volleyball showdown!” He hefted a ball into the air like a warrior brandishing a weapon.

A cheer went up from both sides. Even Iida Tenya, trying to lecture about “proper sunscreen application and hydration breaks,” found himself swept into the energy.

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu slapped his fists together, grinning wide. “Heh! About time! Let’s crush ‘em, Kirishima-kun!”

“Yeah, bro!” Kirishima shouted back, their rivalry instantly reigniting across the net.

Shoji Mezo was already helping distribute shade tents while Shiozaki Ibara wove leafy vines into makeshift seats. Tsuyu Asui hopped into the shallows with an easy “kero,” while Kuroiro Shihai muttered about “merging with the abyssal waves” before diving under like a shadow.

Near the grills, Aoyama Yūga struck a pose with his reflective sunglasses, nearly blinding Hagakure Tōru. “Ohoho! Behold, mes amis! Even the sun itself cannot outshine moi!”

“You’re just reflecting it, Aoyama-kun!” Ojiro Mashirao called, tail swishing as he tried to corral supplies.

By the time Present Mic blew a whistle to “officially” start the first match, the beach was already a battlefield of laughter, bickering, and quirks being used far less responsibly than the teachers would’ve liked.

Whatever “training” this was supposed to be, it had already transformed into something else entirely: a day of sun, sand, and sheer U.A. chaos.