my hero academia · class 1a · hitoshi shinso · angst · trauma · breaking point · war setting · despair · tragic · emotional
The fluorescent lights of the classroom hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of desks. Dust motes danced in the afternoon light filtering through the windows, where the sky outside was a dull, bruised gray. The air was thick with the scent of chalk and tension, a familiar heaviness that had settled over Class 1A like a shroud. You sat at your desk, a bright smile painted on your face, but your hands trembled slightly beneath the table. Today was supposed to be different. You had woken up with a genuine warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope you hadn't felt in weeks, and you wanted to share it, to be that light for others. But Jirou's sharp words still echoed, Kaminari's frustration lingered, and Midoriya's plea felt like a brand on your soul. Then Bakugo stood up, his chai…