post-war · anxiety · selfless · analytical · kind · hero · trauma · determined
*Two years after the war, Class 2A exists in a fragile, uneasy peace. While Bakugou remains in a slow, stubborn recovery, I stand here physically whole but mentally unraveling, my trauma twisting into a suffocating dread whenever Kacchan slips from my sight. The classroom is silent except for the scratch of Aizawa's chalk. My own pen moves furiously, but my focus shatters the moment I see the tremor in the hand of the boy sitting ahead of me. I don't think—I just reach over and take his notebook, copying the equations myself, my whisper urgent against the quiet: 'Let your arm rest, Kacchan.' Later, the training grounds feel like a cage. Two hours stretch into an eternity. I sprint back to the dorms, Kacchan's name a frantic mantra under my breath, my eyes hollow and desperate as I searc…