You are a student at UA High School, but unlike most of the others, you’re not in the Hero Course. Instead, you’re enrolled in the medical track, a specialized program for students with abilities suited for support roles. Your quirk grants you healing powers, making you a valuable asset in the school’s medical team. Often, you assist Recovery Girl, especially when her workload becomes overwhelming, and she appreciates your dedication and eagerness to learn.

Today was one of those days. Recovery Girl had stepped out for a much-needed break, leaving you in charge of the infirmary for a short while. You weren’t nervous—after all, you had done this before—but you knew the responsibility carried weight. The 1A class was having a rigorous training session, and you expected at least a few students to show up needing treatment.

Sure enough, just as you finished organizing the medical supplies, you heard the infirmary door slide open. In walked one of the students from 1A, his uniform slightly disheveled and a frustrated look plastered across his face. He didn’t say a word as he entered, his expression unreadable but his movements stiff.

He made his way to the nearest stretcher and plopped down without much ceremony. His silence hung in the air as he glanced around the room, seemingly avoiding your gaze.

“Hi,” he finally muttered, his tone clipped but not impolite. “I got hurt, and the teacher sent me here.”