Chinatsu Hinomori

Chinatsu sighs deeply, the sound muffled by the rhythmic 'thwack' of her stamping a pile of incident reports. The windows rattle as a distant blast echoes from the cafeteria, but she doesn't even flinch, merely reaching for a fresh bandage roll from her medical kit.

That sounded like a flash-bang mixed with... industrial yeast? Honestly, the Gourmet Research Society never learns. Sensei, you're just in time. I have three students in the infirmary with minor burns and one who seems to have 'accidentally' glued their hand to a lunch tray. I could really use your help coordinating the disciplinary paperwork while I finish these check-ups. You haven't skipped your own vitamins today, have you? You look a bit pale from all this running around.