Maya's body sank deeper into the couch, the soft blanket Midnight had draped over her legs providing a sense of warmth and security. She let her gaze drift, unfocused, as the quiet hum of conversation filled the lounge.
At a nearby table, Ectoplasm sat with a stack of math tests, his skeletal hands methodically flipping through the pages. He paused on one, tapping the table lightly as he examined the paper. "Unanswered again," he muttered, his deep voice rumbling through the room. "Let's see... how should I explain this one?"
He leaned forward slightly, reading the problem aloud as though mulling it over to himself. "If 4x−7=134x - 7 = 134x−7=13, solve for xxx. Then substitute xxx into y=2x+5y = 2x + 5y=2x+5 to find the value of yyy."
Maya, lost in thought and forgetting for a moment that she wasn't alone, stared blankly at the wall. Without hesitation, she answered, her voice calm and instinctive.
"It's 52," she said softly. "Start by isolating xxx in the first equation. Add 7 to both sides, so 4x=204x = 204x=20. Then divide by 4, so x=5x = 5x=5." Her voice was steady, and she continued without missing a beat.
"Substitute x=5x = 5x=5 into y=2x+5y = 2x + 5y=2x+5. That makes y=2(5)+5y = 2(5) + 5y=2(5)+5, which equals 10 plus 5. So, y=15y = 15y=15."
She paused for a moment before finishing. "The answer they're looking for is 15 for yyy, and if they're asking for x+yx + yx+y, it's 52."
The room stilled.
Ectoplasm froze, his skeletal head tilting slightly as he turned toward her, his expression one of astonishment. Present Mic, lounging nearby, sat up straight, his trademark grin widening with curiosity. Even Aizawa stirred in his sleeping bag, one eye cracking open to observe the unexpected scene.
Ectoplasm, still holding the paper, decided to test her again. He read out another question, his tone deliberate. "If a train leaves a station traveling at 80 kilometers per hour, and another train leaves the same station an hour later traveling at 120 kilometers per hour, when will the second train catch up?"
Maya, still staring blankly at the wall, answered instinctively. "The second train will catch up in two hours. The first train travels 80 kilometers in the first hour, so the second train needs to cover that gap. Since it's moving 40 kilometers per hour faster, it takes two hours to catch up."
Her tone was calm, matter-of-fact, and precise. Ectoplasm leaned back slightly, the surprise in his skeletal expression almost comical.
Present Mic whistled low, leaning forward with wide eyes. "Alright, that's impressive!"
Ectoplasm's intrigue deepened. This time, instead of another problem from the papers, he decided to shift tactics. He leaned forward, his tone changing to something more dramatic, like a scenario being narrated.
"Alright," he said, his deep voice commanding the room's attention. "You're a hero running to a disaster site. A building has collapsed two kilometers ahead, and there's heavy debris blocking your route. You're traveling at 40 kilometers per hour, but emergency services are delayed by five minutes due to road closures. How do you calculate the remaining time to the site, and what protocol would you follow to ensure safety upon arrival?"
Maya's posture shifted slightly. Her shoulders straightened, and her expression hardened into focus. She spoke without hesitation, her voice calm, collected, and oddly professional—as though she were speaking directly into a comm line.
"You'll reach the site in three minutes," she began, her tone precise, almost robotic. "Travel time is reduced because of the short distance, but the delay puts emergency services behind by at least eight minutes once they reroute. On arrival, assess the debris for structural instability before entering the site. Prioritize communication with on-site personnel to locate survivors. Protocol dictates securing the perimeter to prevent additional casualties."
Her voice dropped slightly as she continued, her cadence steady, almost soothing. "Use thermal imaging to detect life signs beneath the rubble and proceed with caution. Watch for potential gas leaks or compromised electrical lines. Inform backup teams of all hazards and await confirmation before extraction."
The room fell silent once more.
Ectoplasm's pen dropped onto the table, his skeletal gaze fixed on Maya with an intensity that was almost unnerving. Present Mic's ever-present grin had vanished, replaced with an expression of quiet respect. Even Aizawa, usually a picture of disinterest, sat up slightly in his sleeping bag, his dark eyes sharp and focused, a flicker of intrigue breaking his impassive mask.
The sound of the door opening drew their attention briefly as Midnight walked in, holding a smoothie in hand. Her gaze darted from Maya to the group of men, her brow furrowing as she noticed the sudden shift in the room's atmosphere.
"What's going on?" she asked softly, her tone laced with curiosity.
Ectoplasm raised a skeletal hand, signaling her to stay quiet, while Present Mic gestured dramatically toward Maya with wide eyes. Midnight tilted her head, confused, but said nothing, carefully setting the smoothie on the table next to Maya.
Aizawa reached into his sleeping bag and scribbled something on a piece of paper before passing it to Ectoplasm, who skimmed it briefly before handing it to Midnight.
The note read: Maya admitted to doing dispatch work in America. She said she was good—I thought she was exaggerating.
Midnight's lips parted in surprise as she read the note. Her gaze flicked to her sister, who was now reclined on the couch, her blanket pulled up to her chest. Maya's eyes were distant, her body relaxed, but the aura around her had changed. She seemed to be somewhere else entirely, her focus sharp and calm, as if she were back in her apartment handling a real call.
Ectoplasm, clearly intrigued, decided to press further. His voice carried a steady authority as he gave the next scenario.
"A devastating earthquake has hit a populated city," he began. "Buildings have collapsed, and emergency services are spread thin. Your hero is two kilometers away, moving at 50 kilometers per hour, but debris is blocking major roads. There are reports of injuries, fires, and potential chemical leaks from a nearby factory. What's the safest protocol, and how do you prioritize the response?"
Without hesitation, Maya's calm, collected voice cut through the room, carrying a quiet confidence that was impossible to ignore.
"First, prioritize communication with emergency services already on-site," she began. "Determine the stability of the surrounding buildings and assess whether evacuation routes are safe. The factory poses a potential chemical hazard—send a team equipped with protective gear to secure the area and prevent further contamination."
She shifted slightly on the couch, getting more comfortable as her tone became sharper, more authoritative. "Injuries should be triaged on-site. Heroes and first responders must focus on survivors trapped in structurally sound areas before attempting high-risk rescues. Ensure fire containment crews are alerted to the areas most at risk of spreading flames. Coordination is key—overlap in rescue efforts will only waste time and resources."
The room was dead silent, all eyes fixed on Maya.
Aizawa, sensing an opportunity, decided to add to the scenario. "The factory has reported an unknown chemical leak," he said, his voice monotone but precise. "Symptoms in affected individuals include dizziness, difficulty breathing, and burns. How do you handle this?"
Maya didn't miss a beat. Her voice remained calm, as if she were speaking into a comm line. "Symptoms suggest a corrosive or inhalation hazard. Evacuate the area immediately and establish a perimeter of at least 500 meters until the chemical can be identified. Deploy specialized hazmat teams to assess the source and mitigate the spread. Inform all first responders to use full protective gear and avoid direct exposure. If possible, ventilate the area to reduce concentration levels."
Her tone dropped slightly, almost soothing. "Update nearby hospitals to prepare for chemical exposure patients. Use mobile decontamination units for those exposed on-site before transport. Ensure backup teams are ready to relieve the initial responders due to extended exposure risks."
Midnight's eyes widened as she looked at the note in her hand again, then back to Maya. "She's... she's not exaggerating," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Ectoplasm seemed to be enjoying himself now, his skeletal grin nearly visible as he jotted notes on a nearby pad. Present Mic was shaking his head in awe, while Aizawa simply watched Maya, his sharp gaze unreadable.
Maya, oblivious to the attention, remained in her own little world. She tucked her legs beneath her on the couch, her voice steady and detached as she continued detailing protocols and expectations. It was as if she were back in her apartment, working a real dispatch call, her instincts and experience carrying her effortlessly through the scenario.
The room's atmosphere shifted slightly as Aizawa, still watching her intently, glanced at Ectoplasm. "Raise the stakes," he said in his usual monotone, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Let's see how far she can go."
Ectoplasm gave a slow nod, his skeletal face unreadable as he considered the next challenge. Finally, he spoke, his tone heavy with tension.
"Multiple villain attacks are happening simultaneously in different areas across the city," he began. "One group is holding hostages in a high-rise building. Another is causing chaos in a crowded marketplace. A third is targeting critical infrastructure—power plants, water supplies, and communication towers. You're coordinating all heroes and emergency services. How do you prioritize, assemble teams, and manage the chaos?"
Maya's entire demeanor shifted. Her back straightened, her fingers twitching slightly as though reaching for a headset. Her voice, calm and precise, became sharper, carrying an air of command.
"High-rise hostage situation takes priority," she began, her tone cutting through the room like a blade. "The safety of civilians in immediate danger comes first. Deploy flight-capable heroes or those with advanced mobility to reach the hostages. Secure the building floor by floor, starting from the top to prevent villains from escaping. Maintain open communication with law enforcement to block off surrounding areas."
She paused for a breath, her gaze distant but focused, as though seeing the scene unfold before her. "Marketplace chaos requires crowd control and evacuation. Send heroes with defensive quirks to protect civilians and minimize injuries. Ensure medical teams are stationed at nearby safe zones to triage the injured. Use drone surveillance to monitor the situation and relay updates in real-time."
Her tone became more authoritative as she continued. "Critical infrastructure threats must be neutralized immediately to prevent long-term damage. Assemble teams of tech-savvy heroes and those with combat capabilities to secure each site. Prioritize the power plant—it poses the highest risk to the population if compromised. Dispatch smaller teams to the water supply and communication towers, ensuring swift, coordinated action."
Maya's voice shifted slightly, carrying an almost soothing cadence as she began delegating tasks as if speaking to an actual team. "Team Alpha, handle the high-rise. Team Beta, the marketplace. Team Gamma, secure the infrastructure. Each team leader will report to me every five minutes with updates. Secondary dispatchers will monitor and relay critical changes to ensure coordination remains seamless."
The teachers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and awe. Even Aizawa straightened fully, his sharp eyes fixed on Maya as she continued effortlessly.
"Establish a central command point for coordination and communication," she said, her voice unwavering. "Prepare for potential villain reinforcements. Inform surrounding agencies to deploy backup teams to secondary locations in case the attacks are distractions for larger-scale plans. Always anticipate the unexpected."
She finally stopped, her chest rising and falling slightly faster as she took a deep breath. Her gaze remained distant, as though she were still in her own world.
The room was silent.
Ectoplasm, who had been jotting notes on a pad, set his pen down with a faint clink. Present Mic looked genuinely stunned, his usual exuberance replaced with quiet respect. Midnight stood frozen, holding the empty smoothie cup in her hand as she stared at her sister.
Aizawa finally broke the silence. "She's not just good," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made everyone listen. "She's exceptional."
Maya blinked, her focus snapping back to the present. She looked around the room, her gaze darting from one face to another, noting the intensity of their stares. Her chest tightened, and her brows furrowed in confusion.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice quiet but laced with uncertainty. "Did... did I do something?"
The question hung in the air for a moment, and it was clear from her tone that she genuinely didn't know what had just happened. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket as she shrank slightly under their collective gaze.
Midnight stepped closer, crouching beside the couch, her eyes soft but searching. "Maya," she began gently, "do you know what you just did?"
Maya hesitated, shaking her head faintly. "No... I was just answering the questions. Why?"
Ectoplasm folded his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. "You didn't just answer the questions," he said, his tone calm and measured. "You took control of hypothetical disaster scenarios with precision and professionalism. You handled them like someone who's been in those situations a hundred times."
Maya's eyes widened slightly, her grip on the blanket tightening until her knuckles turned white. "I... I didn't mean to," she said, her voice trembling as if she'd done something wrong. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, the weight of her past creeping into the present. Jared's voice echoed in her mind—his anger when she got too focused, too "zoned out."
Her lips began to move, muttering the same word over and over. "Sorry... sorry... sorry..."
The apology spilled out instinctively, her voice shrinking with each repetition. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, her gaze dropping to her lap.
Aizawa's sharp eyes didn't miss the sudden change in her demeanor. He shifted in his seat, his usually stoic expression softening. His voice, calm and deliberate, broke through her spiraling thoughts. "Maya," he said evenly, his tone grounding. "You don't need to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."
Maya's muttering slowed, though her hands still fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. She glanced up briefly, her eyes darting between Aizawa and the others. The reassurance in his voice, though quiet, began to pull her back.
Ectoplasm, sensing the tension, leaned forward slightly, his skeletal face kind despite its unnerving appearance. "Maya," he said, his tone gentle but steady, "how about you help me grade these math papers? You can write down simple explanations for the correct answers—something to help the students understand better."
Maya blinked, her brows knitting together in surprise. "Help... grade papers?" she echoed, her voice uncertain.
Ectoplasm nodded, offering her a small stack of ungraded tests. "You've got a gift for numbers," he said warmly. "And you've already proven you can explain complex problems clearly. I think you'd be great at this."
Maya hesitated, her fingers still gripping the blanket. "I... I don't know," she said softly.
"It's not a test," Ectoplasm added, his voice encouraging. "There's no pressure. Just something to focus on. If you don't feel up to it, that's okay too."
Midnight crouched next to the couch, placing a comforting hand on Maya's shoulder. "You're not in trouble, Maya," she said softly. "This is just a chance to do something you're good at. Something you might even enjoy."
Maya's grip on the blanket loosened slightly as she considered the offer. The thought of helping, of being useful, tugged at the edges of her anxiety. Slowly, she nodded. "Okay," she murmured. "I'll try."
Ectoplasm smiled, passing her the first test. "Take your time," he said. "If you want to stop, just let me know."
Maya took the test carefully, her fingers brushing against the paper as if it might crumble under her touch. As she began to read the questions, the familiar logic of numbers and equations started to soothe her nerves. For the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of confidence—small but steady.
The room relaxed, the teachers subtly watching Maya's progress while resuming their own conversations. Aizawa leaned back in his seat, his sharp gaze lingering on her as she worked, noting the faint focus returning to her expression.
After a few moments, Maya paused, looking up at the group of teachers. "I need an empty notebook," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of determination. "I think writing the question numbers down and explaining how to solve them step by step would help. That way, the students have something to look off of. It might make learning easier."
The teachers exchanged glances, and Ectoplasm gave a small nod of approval. "Good idea," he said, rising from his chair. "I'll get you one from my classroom." He left the lounge with quick, purposeful steps.
As the room settled again, Midnight placed the smoothie on the table next to Maya. "Here," she said, her tone warm. "Don't forget to drink this while you work."
Maya glanced at the smoothie, giving her sister a small nod of thanks before focusing back on the stack of papers. Her hands rested on the edges of the tests, but her fingers no longer fidgeted nervously.
Ectoplasm returned shortly with a plain notebook, placing it on the table before her. "This should do," he said.
Maya carefully opened the notebook, smoothing the first blank page with her hand. She reached for a pen, her grip steady as she began to write. Her handwriting flowed effortlessly, each number and letter adorned with elegant, subtle swirls. It was beautiful, organized, and easy to read, with each explanation laid out clearly beneath the corresponding question number.
The teachers couldn't help but glance at her work, their expressions quietly impressed. Midnight leaned over slightly, her eyes lighting up as she saw the neatness of Maya's writing. "You've got beautiful handwriting," she said with a smile.
Maya's lips twitched into a faint smile, the compliment seeming to relax her even more. "Thanks," she said softly. "I like keeping things organized. It makes everything... clearer."
She continued to write, her focus unwavering as she carefully detailed each step of the problem-solving process. There was a quiet sense of joy in her expression—a lightness that hadn't been there before. She seemed genuinely happy to be doing something productive, something she was good at.
Maya sifted through the stack of tests, one particular paper caught her attention. The handwriting was shaky, and the answers were incomplete, with several scratch-outs and faint impressions of erased work scattered across the page. It was clear the student had struggled, likely growing frustrated as they tried to solve the problems.
Maya paused, her brows knitting together as she thought about what to write. After a moment, she picked up her pen and carefully wrote a note at the bottom of the test:
Next time, if you feel frustrated, take a deep, calming breath. Step away from the hard question and try another one. Then come back to it with a fresh perspective. You've got this.
Her handwriting, with its elegant swirls and neat organization, added a warm, encouraging tone to her message. For a moment, she stared at the note, a faint smile touching her lips. She hoped it would help the student feel less overwhelmed.
As she worked, the door opened, and a few more teachers filed into the lounge. One of them, a younger hero, sat down at a computer and let out an audible sigh. "Great. It's going to take forever to load," they muttered.
But as they powered it on, their eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa," the teacher said, blinking at the screen. "This thing is running like it's brand new. What happened?"
Ectoplasm, who was sitting nearby, tilted his head toward Maya. "You can thank her," he said simply.
The teacher glanced over at Maya, who was too engrossed in her work to notice. "Well, whoever she is, she's a lifesaver," they muttered, quickly getting to work.
Meanwhile, Maya let out a small yawn, her body beginning to protest the long morning and the mental strain of everything so far. Midnight noticed, her brows knitting together with concern.
"You've done enough for now," Midnight said gently. "Why don't you take a break? Go lie down for a bit."
Maya nodded faintly, carefully closing the notebook and stacking the graded tests neatly on the table. She stood, her movements slow and deliberate as she made her way back toward the couch.
But as she took another step, her body suddenly gave out beneath her. Her knees buckled, and she crumpled toward the floor.
"Maya!" Midnight cried, rushing forward.
She wasn't fast enough. Before she could catch her sister, Maya collapsed, her small frame hitting the ground with a soft thud. The teachers in the room all turned at the sound, concern flashing across their faces.
Aizawa was the first to reach her, crouching beside her with a steady hand on her shoulder. "Maya," he said firmly, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the haze. "Can you hear me?"
Maya stirred faintly, her eyelids fluttering. "I... I'm okay," she murmured, though her voice was weak.
Midnight knelt beside her, her face tight with worry. "You're not okay," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Maya's face. "You're exhausted."
Ectoplasm stepped forward. "Let's get her back on the couch," he said, his tone measured.
Aizawa nodded, carefully slipping an arm under Maya's shoulders to lift her gently. Midnight supported her from the other side, and together they guided her back to the couch, laying her down carefully.
Maya's breaths were shallow, but her eyes remained open, flickering between the teachers. "I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice barely audible.
"Stop apologizing," Aizawa said firmly, his dark eyes steady as they locked onto hers. "You've pushed yourself too far. You need to rest."
Midnight pulled the blanket back over Maya, tucking it around her carefully, her movements slow and deliberate. "Just stay still for now," she said gently, brushing a hand lightly over Maya's hair in a soothing gesture. "Let us take care of you."
Maya blinked up at her sister, her body too heavy to move. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, her voice barely audible.
"Enough with the apologies," Aizawa muttered from the other side of the couch, his tone gruff but not unkind. His sharp eyes softened slightly as he glanced down at her. "For someone who's clearly a genius, you're being stupid for pushing yourself like this."
The faintest flicker of a smile ghosted over Maya's lips, though she didn't respond.
Midnight shot Aizawa a pointed look but didn't disagree. Instead, she sat down beside Maya, one hand resting protectively on her arm. "You'll rest," she said firmly, "and no arguing."
The room settled into a tense quiet. Ectoplasm stepped aside to notify Recovery Girl of Maya's collapse, his skeletal face betraying a hint of concern. Present Mic leaned against the wall, his usual energy subdued as he exchanged a glance with Midnight.
"She'll be okay," Midnight murmured softly, almost as if reassuring herself.
The teachers exchanged silent, worried glances, each hoping Maya would allow herself the time to heal—not just physically, but emotionally. Her quiet strength and brilliance were clear, but so were the cracks beneath the surface, hidden under years of stress and pain.