Hey! Chapter 17 is out! Hope you enjoy ;)

The reviews:

Guest: I would like to say that it is the same thing in our armies, if you break, the entire regiment breaks, only holding on strings that are some soldiers. It was the case in old times, when a king or a general had a breakdown, the entire army was paralyzed, not only because the person couldn't give orders, but also because it was an impact on the moral, and probably still is.

It was only natural that I also portray that in the GAR.

With that, onward!


Chapter 17: USJ Aftermath (Part 2)

/

Izuku set his tray down on the table with a sigh… What a mess… What a mess… The whole school was focused on them now, which was understandable; they had survived a terrorist attack. However…

The remarks made by that boy with the purple hair were out of line. Completely out of line. He felt a dull rage creeping in… How could he say that? About his classmates? Damn it, he never imagined how primitive some people could be. Declaring war, seriously?

And speaking of war. Lock. Warden and Focus had told him about their origins, that attack, their creation… It had shocked him, yes, he hadn't shown it, okay… But now…

Lock had just said something deep, far deeper than just a first experience. His brain was racing, analyzing, thinking. But the problem was that no war had taken place recently. So where did he get such a profound insight from? It didn't add up.

He should ask either Warden or Focus for answers. The sound of trays being set down nearby made him look up, and his emerald eyes fell on Iida and Ochako.

"The behavior of those students was entirely irresponsible.", Iida grumbled.

"Yeah, but I think Lock gave them a good lesson. What do you think, Midoriya-san?", Ochako asked.

Izuku looked at her for a long moment before sighing.

"Something seems odd about Lock. But well, it's just a feeling. Otherwise, I agree with you," the green-haired boy replied calmly, starting to eat his meal before falling back into silence, deep in thought.

There really was something strange…

"Uh… Well… Let's change the subject! I wanted to ask… you two… Why do you want to become heroes?" Ochako's voice broke through, pulling him out of his thoughts. Yeah, it was better if they changed the subject…

/

Flashback

The morning sun gently filtered through the curtains, illuminating the spacious room in the Iida household. The golden rays danced on the walls and furniture, creating a peaceful and warm atmosphere. In this soft light, a young boy of about eight years old, with neatly combed blue hair and eyes shining with juvenile determination behind his rectangular glasses, sat on his bed, his feet dangling in the air. This was Tenya Iida, the youngest of the family.

Tenya had always admired his older brother, Tensei. To him, Tensei was everything he aspired to be: an honorable hero, respected by all, but above all, a model of righteousness and kindness. Tensei was the famous hero Ingenium, a name that echoed powerfully through the streets of the city, synonymous with justice and courage. But not only that.

His entire family was made up of heroes.

His father and mother, Kazuo Iida and Ayumi Iida, were the heroes Turbo Knight and Wind Sprint, respectively. His grandparents had also been renowned heroes before them. For ages, his ancestors had been heroes. Some rumors about their family even said that one of their distant ancestors, a cousin, had fought against a super-powerful villain.

That morning, Tenya was preparing for an important event: his first sports competition in primary school. It wasn't just any competition. For Tenya, it was the opportunity to prove that he could live up to his family's name. He wanted to show his brother that he could follow in his footsteps, that he had that same fire, that same passion for excellence and justice.

However, as he was getting ready, a doubt had insidiously crept into his mind.

'What if I'm not good enough? What if I disappoint Tensei?'

These thoughts swirled in his mind, weighing heavily on his small shoulders. He clenched his fists, his heart beating faster with each passing second.

It was at that moment that the door to his room opened gently. Tensei, dressed in his hero uniform, entered with a kind smile; he was getting ready to go to work. His short hair shone in the morning light, and his gaze expressed infinite warmth and understanding.

"Tenya, are you ready?" Tensei asked, his voice resonating with comforting warmth.

Tenya looked up at his brother, seeking the reassurance he so desperately needed in his gaze.

"I… I don't know, Tensei-nii…", he replied softly with hesitation, "What if I'm not up to it? What if I disappoint you?"

Tensei knelt in front of his little brother with a rustle of armor, placing his hands on Tenya's shoulders. He looked him straight in the eyes, his smile growing even softer.

"Tenya, you don't need to compare yourself to me or anyone else. You are you, and that's all that matters."

"But… I want to be like you.", Tenya murmured, his eyes shining with admiration and doubt. "I want to be a great hero, just like you."

Tensei took a deep breath, thinking about the best way to reassure his brother.

"You will be a great hero, Tenya.", he said with firm conviction, "But you must remember that the path to getting there is long, and it's normal to stumble sometimes. It's not the fall that matters but how you get back up."

Young Tenya listened attentively, every word from his brother imprinting deeply in his mind.

"You're young, and you still have a lot to learn. But know one thing: I believe in you, and I'll always be there to support you, no matter what happens."

These words warmed Tenya's heart, dispelling some of his doubts.

"You'll always be there?", he asked, seeking one last confirmation.

Tensei nodded confidently, a smile on the corner of his lips.

"Always. You're my little brother, Tenya, and I'm proud of you, no matter the outcome today. What matters is that you give it your best. And I know you will."

Tenya's eyes filled with determination. He felt a new strength growing within him, fueled by his brother's love and confidence.

"I'll do my best, Tensei-nii!", he declared with newfound resolve.

Tensei smiled, seeing the change in his brother's attitude. He stood up and held out his hand to Tenya.

"Then let's go, little brother. Show them what you're capable of."

Tenya took his brother's hand, suddenly feeling lighter, as if all his doubts had dissipated. Together, they left the room, walking side by side down the hallway of their house, their footsteps echoing in the peaceful morning silence.

When they arrived at the school, the atmosphere was lively. Children were running around, excited about the day's competition. Tenya squeezed his brother's gloved armored hand for a moment before letting go, ready to join his classmates. Before leaving, he turned back one last time to Tensei, who waved at him with an encouraging smile before putting on his helmet, getting into position, and with a gust of wind, taking off like a rocket, aided by the exhaust pipes on his arms.

The competition began, and Tenya gave it everything he had. Every race, every jump, every effort was made with the conviction that his brother was watching him and believed in him, even if he was out working to bring justice. He was no never alone. He knew that. No matter the outcome, he had Tensei's unconditional support.

Hours passed, and the day ended with applause from the parents and teachers. Tenya hadn't won every event, but he had fought fiercely and won several medals. Yet, it wasn't the medals that mattered most to him. What truly counted was the approval in Tensei's eyes when he joined him at the end of the day, after work, at home.

"You did an excellent job, Tenya.", Tensei said, placing a hand on his brother's head, "I'm so proud of you."

Tenya smiled, tired but happy.

"Thank you, Tensei-nii. I'll do even better next time."

Tensei nodded.

"I have no doubt about that. But remember, it's not just victory that makes a hero. It's the courage, the determination, and the willingness to always improve."

That day, Tenya Iida learned a valuable lesson, a lesson that would shape the hero he would become later. He understood that, even though the path to greatness was full of obstacles, he would never be alone. His brother would always be there, right behind him, ready to support him every step of the way.

And with this certainty engraved in his heart, Tenya grew, each day a little more determined to become not only a great hero but a man his brother could be proud of. Because he now knew that, no matter the challenges ahead, Tensei would always be by his side, in spirit if not in person, to encourage him, guide him, and remind him that he was never truly alone.

End of Flashback

Iida took a deep breath before speaking.

"I've always wanted to become a hero, ever since I was little. I've always dreamed of it, following in my older brother's footsteps in heroism…"

"Hmm… Ingenium?", Midoriya murmured, catching him by surprise.

"How…?", Iida asked, surprised.

"Simple, a similar quirk, a close physical resemblance, you and your brother look quite alike. It's easy to trace it back to the source.", Midoriya explained, crossing his arms, "It's a good motivation you have there. Following in your brother's footsteps… I imagine you have great admiration for him, which is normal. However, don't let that hinder you. No matter what happens, your brother will always be with you."

Those words… They were the same as Tensei's… Iida nodded.

Then the green-haired boy turned his head, letting the blue-haired boy reflect, before asking.

"And you, Uraraka-san?"

/

Ochako took a few moments to think before replying, then sighed…

"All our lives...", Ochako began, her voice sad as she lowered her head, "My family and I... We've always carefully counted the money we had..."

'Mom? Can we buy this?'

'No, sweetheart, I'm sorry...'

'Dad? Can we get this?'

'I'm sorry, honey, we don't have enough money...'

Her whole life, every purchase had been a battle in itself, calculations, stress for her parents. Her parents ran a small construction business, and they never made much. And that had an impact on her. All her toys were made from pieces of rope, nails, and bits of wood, gifted by kind workers who chatted with her as she wandered through the construction sites, curious, under the watchful eyes of her parents.

Ochako remained lost in her memories for a while, reliving every moment when she had seen her parents sacrifice so much to make ends meet. The forced smiles, the heavy silences as they counted the money at the end of the month, the tired looks they exchanged, thinking she didn't notice… All of that had become deeply ingrained in her, like a silent shadow, following her day by day.

She also remembered the days when, as a child, she had wanted to ease her parents' burden. She had promised herself to work hard, to never disappoint them. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Their reality was cruel, relentless, and despite all their love and dedication, they remained trapped in poverty. Every smile she offered, every word of encouragement she gave them was a temporary balm, but it couldn't erase their fatigue or their despair.

"That's why...", Ochako murmured, her eyes shining with deep determination, "That's why I want to become a pro hero."

She took a deep breath, clenching her fists.

"I never want to see that look in their eyes again. I don't want them to have to choose between a meal and a bill. Being a hero is more than just saving lives for me... It's also saving my parents, giving them a life where they can finally breathe, where they can finally smile without worry."

The memories of the workers resurfaced. Those men and women who worked hard, under the burning sun or the freezing cold, yet still took the time to talk to her, to encourage her, to make her smile. They taught her the value of hard work, but also that of solidarity, of humanity. They were heroes in their own way, she thought, invisible heroes that no one noticed, yet who still changed the world, one small act at a time.

'I want to be like them.', she thought fervently.

"I want to be a hero who can help others carry their burdens, to make their lives a little lighter, a little more joyful."

Ochako knew the road ahead would be long and difficult. But she was ready to face every obstacle, to overcome every challenge. She had a clear vision of what she wanted to achieve, of the reason she was fighting.

"I want to give my parents a life they can be proud of.", said the brunette as she lifted her head, looking at Midoriya and Iida in turn, who were watching her, listening intently.

"And I want to be a hero who, one day, can reach out to those who, like me, grew up in the shadow of poverty."

She had always had a dream. A dream where she could finally give her parents, and so many others, the life they truly deserved.

Midoriya stood up, walked around the table, and sat beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder...

"And we'll help you. Always, you can count on us. If we achieve our dream, it will be together. Right, Iida?"

The blue-haired boy offered a smile.

"Indeed. One for all and all for one."

Ochako returned the smile.

Izuku then pressed his forehead against hers, just like during the Battle Trials, as a sign of support. The brunette appreciated the gesture, and they stayed like that for a little longer than necessary…

/

Izuku pulled away from the contact, feeling an odd need for more. A warm sensation gripped his heart, and the green-haired boy was surprised by it. Then his emerald eyes met Ochako's hazel ones, and he scratched the back of his head, a small, nervous laugh escaping him against his will, causing some confusion in Iida, who didn't understand what was happening before his eyes.

However, Ochako understood and averted her gaze slightly.

"Well… I guess it's my turn to explain my reasons…", Izuku said, calming down.

The green-haired boy took a deep breath…

"When I was a small boy…"

Flashback

"Mom, can you turn on the news? They're going to talk about heroes!"

Inko, unable to resist her son's overflowing enthusiasm, switched to the news channel, and immediately, the image of a gigantic man with a radiant smile appeared on the screen. The announcer, with a passionate voice, explained how All Might had once again saved dozens of lives during a natural disaster. Izuku, mesmerized, sat down on the carpet, his green eyes shining with fascination. Every word, every image, was etched into his mind like symbols burned into iron.

All Might wasn't just a hero. He was the Hero of heroes. The symbol of peace, the very embodiment of justice. To Izuku, it was as if a god had descended to Earth to protect humanity. That smile, that presence, that power! He was everything Izuku had ever wanted to be: strong, courageous, invincible. As the report showed All Might saving civilians, then smiling at the camera and declaring his famous 'Everything is fine! Why? Because I am here!', Izuku felt a shiver run through him. It was at that precise moment that he knew he wanted to become a hero, not just to be admired or for the glory, but to be like All Might, a pillar of light that brings smiles to people.

That night, after dinner, Izuku went up to his room, but instead of playing with his toys or reading his books, he grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil. His mind was buzzing with ideas, and he started sketching, clumsily but with passion, a hero costume he could wear one day. He already saw himself, taller, stronger, able to fly to the rescue of the innocent, just like All Might. His small child's hands struggled to hold the pencil, but he persisted, driven by an irresistible force.

He would become a hero. A smiling hero.

He was quirkless.

For days after that fateful announcement, the thought gnawed at him. He hoped the doctor had made a mistake, that he would develop a quirk, something… He watched the other kids in his class, some able to produce flames, others manipulating objects from a distance. Izuku, however, remained invariably without power. That emptiness in his heart grew every day, threatening to engulf his dream. But even then, even in those moments of deep doubt, a part of him refused to give up.

"Everything is fine.", he repeated to himself, "Everything is fine because I am here."

It was All Might's phrase, the one that resonated in him like a mantra, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

One evening, as the full moon faintly illuminated his room, Izuku couldn't fall asleep. He slipped out of bed, walked silently to the living room, and there, in the shadows, he turned on the television. An old recording of an All Might battle was playing on a specialized channel. Izuku sat in front of the screen, his knees hugged to his chest, watching every movement, every gesture of his idol. The sheer magnitude of All Might's power took his breath away.

Despite the enormity of his feats, what struck Izuku the most was All Might's expression: a blend of unwavering determination and deep compassion. It wasn't brute strength that made him a hero; it was his unyielding desire to protect others, to give them hope.

At that moment, Izuku realized something essential. Maybe he didn't have a quirk yet, maybe he never would. But that wasn't what made a true hero. What mattered was giving people a reason to smile, bringing light into their lives. And that willpower, he had it. Even without a power, he could keep hoping, keep preparing. All Might, with his mere existence, had given him a goal, a path to follow.

In the days, weeks, months, and years that followed, Izuku began to work harder than ever. He read everything he could about heroes, watched every video, analyzed every fight. He took notes in notebooks, writing down everything he learned, drawing strategies, imagining ways to fight villains even without a quirk.

"Everything will be fine. Because I'll be there…" the boy promised himself…

End of Flashback

"It's to bring a smile to people's faces that I want to become a hero, to bring them hope in this world…", the boy finished softly…

He had a little lied, saying he was born with a quirk, and not without one, but that didn't change his reasons.

He would always be a hero, despite what Bakugo had said, what the world around him said, he would bring a smile on everyone's face. And thanks to the training with Warden and Focus, he wouldn't hesitate.

A smile on everyone's face, no matter what it took.

/

Teeth grinded. Red eyes glowed with deep-seated annoyance and rage. Deku and his delusions… It irritated him, it frustrated him…

"Tsk…" Bakugo muttered, who had, unconsciously, seated himself just across the benches where that damn broccoli, rosy cheeks, and four-eyes had settled.

But deep down, those dreams stirred a dull feeling in his heart, a feeling he hated, a feeling he couldn't accept. Not because of his ego, not because of the reputation he had to uphold, not because of his goals. Because of himself. That shadow lurking behind him, which for once, wasn't Deku…

As a child, Katsuki had never doubted his destiny. From the moment he discovered his explosive quirk, he had immediately envisioned himself as a future hero, a symbol of power, of unshakable strength. It was a given. The other kids admired him, respected him, or rather, they feared him. To Katsuki, it was the same thing. In his mind, respect and fear were inseparable. You couldn't have one without the other.

But there was this shadow in his life, this thorn in his side that he couldn't ignore: Izuku Midoriya, that quirkless 'Deku', his childhood best friend turned to be only a nuisance, but with a stubborn heart. Deku, who clung to foolish dreams, naively believing he could become a hero without any strength, without any talent. It was ridiculous, exasperating. How could someone so weak dare to walk the same path as him, Katsuki Bakugo? Someone who had everything to win and reach the top.

This latent anger, this constant irritation toward Midoriya after the appearance of his quirk, had been the first sparks of the fire that burned within him. Every smile from Deku, every act of selfless kindness, drove him crazy. Yet, deep inside, a faint voice, almost imperceptible, whispered that Deku had something that he, Katsuki, did not. An unyielding determination, an unbreakable tenacity. It was something he despised as much as he feared it.

As they grew up, the gap between them seemed to widden, which only fueled Katsuki's satisfaction in bullying him, but also his rage toward the greenette. Why did that loser keep trying to follow him? No matter the path, Deku always tried to follow. How dare he walk in his footsteps? It was intolerable for Bakugo.

The memories of those first confrontations came back to him. One of them, particularly significant, occurred during an ordinary day in elementary school. That day, Deku had once again tried to 'help' him. Bakugo didn't need his help. He had never asked for it. The very idea that a quirkless could offer him something filled him with fury. That day, he promised himself that no one would surpass him, especially not Deku. For that, he had to become the strongest, the greatest hero.

But it wasn't just because of Deku. It wasn't just a fight against the green-haired boy, making him understand that his place was under his boot. It was a fight against himself, against that deep-seated fear, that feeling of inadequacy that threatened to devour him. He had never admitted this weakness, not even to himself, but it was there, hidden beneath layers of anger and pride.

The fact that Deku, that miserable quirkless kid who somehow magically obtained a quirk, now his worst enemy, whose every ounce of compassion had given way to a cold void, had become a threat in his eyes only fed this feeling.

Katsuki had always wanted to be the best, the number one. Not just to prove he could do it, but to silence that little voice inside him, that voice that whispered he might fail, that he might not be good enough. Being the best was a matter of survival, a way to maintain his mental balance. Every victory, every step forward was a way to annihilate that fear.

And for that, he had to crush Deku. It wasn't just a matter of rivalry; it was a necessity. If he let Deku surpass him, it would confirm that fear, prove to him that he wasn't invincible, that he wasn't as extraordinary as he believed. So, he swore to himself that he would never let that happen. No matter what it would take. And no matter how long it would take.

Suddenly, the meal he was eating tasted bitter.

He tried to take another bite, seeking to regain the spicy flavor of the food, but it was no use. All because of that idiot and his damn friends who wouldn't stop yapping just behind him.

He wanted to turn around and yell at them to shut their big mouths, to shut up so he could eat his meal in peace.

But… no.

The explosive blond restrained himself with a growl.

If he said something, the green-haired boy would respond, and not only would he humiliate him in front of the class as he did now, but in front of the whole school.

So, Bakugo suffered in silence and forced himself to eat.

/

Lock leaned his elbows on the table, pressing his back against the wall behind him before sighing.

Kriff.

He had messed up.

Rumors spread fast, and one was already circulating about him. Unfortunately, not a good one.

A couple of students sat down on the bench behind him, and he could hear them perfectly, as indiscreet as they were.

"Psst, isn't that the guy from Class 1-A who's trying to act like a 'veteran of all wars'?"

"Yeah, that's him, I was there when he went on and on."

And, of course, the ego of those who were there had conveniently left out one thing: they had all been petrified by his words.

"What a bunch of di'kuts... I can't stand their stupidity anymore...", Lock muttered, before looking at Momo, who was sitting on the other side of the table, also listening to another conversation.

The raven-haired girl shook her head as well and turned her attention to her vod, noticing that he was looking at her.

"I can't stand these di'kutla anymore... They're getting on my nerves.", Lock said.

The raven-haired girl rested her elbows on the table and sighed.

"We can't deny that you also gave them all the middle finger with your words, and you hurt their pride. It's good to be direct, but you shouldn't overdo it either."

Well, it was true that he might have overdone it with some of his words.

"I don't like not being taken seriously. They mock me, but never to my face. They spread rumors behind my back, and they don't dare to speak out loud when I'm around, it's cowardly behavior. I've fought killer machines, dealt with disgusting alien species, trudged through the filthiest swamps and the hottest deserts in the galaxy... And that's what angers me, a bunch of kriffin' teenagers", Lock grumbled, clenching his fists.

Momo remained silent before she too leaned on the table and sighed.

"What can we do... That's just how it is...", the raven-haired girl replied.

Lock rubbed his temples with a grimace.

"All this shit is going to give me a headache... I swear…"

Momo glanced around the cafeteria. Where she could see classmates, there were also other students, always others watching them closely, trying to find weaknesses to exploit later.

However, both Yaoyorozus knew it wouldn't be as easy as those guys thought. Every student in Class 1-A now knew the hell of battle; they had seen what it was. They had both noticed the fatigue etched on many of their classmates' faces, some probably unable to sleep properly since the USJ, plagued by nightmares and everything that came with them.

There was also something else besides all the mess of shellshock, PTSD, and all that kind of stuff. There was something called survivor's guilt. When people survive a massacre or an accident where others died, whether they were loved ones or strangers.

The class had experienced it.

Thus, Class 1-A would fight. More fiercely than ever, they knew what a fight for survival was, where defeat was nothing but a dark abyss. They would fight as a team, wouldn't let each other fall, because they won't want any of them to 'die'.

Class 1-A…

Would. Fight. Like. Hell.

/

The comment from the bulb-head guy had struck her to her very core...

And had brought one of her deepest fears to the surface.

The fear of being treated like a... strange and different person just because of her appearance... Being seen as repulsive... It pierced her deep inside.

That's why Ashido Mina always dressed in colorful clothing, trying to avoid the unpleasant comments others might make about her appearance...

But this time, it had hurt. A lot. That's why she wasn't in the cafeteria like many others but hidden in a dimly lit storage closet, sitting on the floor, her head buried in her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sobbed.

Maybe it was the USJ that was making her crack a little too? She hadn't slept well since the attack... She had seen death and hadn't been able to express her emotions, no one had been able to properly, shocked as they were, and that's why she was letting it all out now, with no one around to see.

She didn't even notice the door opening and someone coming in before closing the door and sitting down next to her.

It wasn't until a voice spoke that she startled and looked up.

"There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere…", Eijiro Kirishima said softly, leaning his head against the wall to look at the ceiling.

"How long have you been here?", Mina asked in a trembling voice.

"I just got here.", the redhead replied.

An awkward silence followed, Mina turning her gaze away in a vain attempt to hide her tears, and Kirishima not looking at her to avoid adding to her discomfort. After a good minute and a half, the redhead spoke again.

"Don't cry… Don't listen to them, they don't deserve your tears, they don't deserve your attention. They're just people who are jealous of us and don't know what we've been through."

Mina remained silent…

"They're just people who can't recognize the natural beauty of a person. They're people who don't go beyond appearances, who don't know how to appreciate someone's soul…"

Mina's tears began to dry up, and she looked at Kirishima with surprise.

"You are strong, brave, and courageous. The USJ may have been a shock... for everyone... but it never stopped you from being a strong girl...", the redhead gave a nervous laugh, "I admire you for that…"

Mina's eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light, and it was as if the knife wound in her soul had been stitched up by Kirishima's words.

"You're amazing… Know that, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise…"

It was the first time anyone had said such words to her… Mina felt her heart warm up, and she responded in a soft voice.

"You know… Your optimism... Your way of being is very unique... Your courage too... I admire you as well, and I wish I could be more like you…"

Kirishima blushed a little.

"No! It's me who wishes I could be more like you… You're courageous and strong… I…"

His words got stuck in his throat…

Flashback

The spring sun rose lazily in the clear blue sky, casting a soft light over the school playground. The laughter and shouts of children echoed in the air as they engaged in various activities. Among them was a young boy with black hair, wearing a serious and determined expression on his face. This was Eijiro Kirishima, a rather ordinary child in a society where the extraordinary was the norm.

Kirishima, like most children his age, dreamed of becoming a hero. But unlike others, his dream didn't stem from the excitement of battles or the fame that came with the profession. No, for Kirishima, it was deeper. It was a need to protect, to defend others, a need that was born from a feeling of inadequacy that he couldn't yet fully understand.

Kirishima often watched the other kids play with their quirks, those unique gifts that made them special. He, however, had nothing extraordinary to show. His quirk was as basic as it could be. Making himself as hard as rock. It was useless, except that it had injured him when it first manifested, explaining the scar he had on his left eyebrow.

But what always caught his attention was a girl with pink hair, vibrant and full of life, always surrounded by her friends. Her name was Mina Ashido. Unlike Kirishima, Mina seemed completely comfortable with herself and her quirk, a power that allowed her to secrete an acid she could control at will. She was popular, fun, and above all, she never seemed afraid of anything.

Kirishima admired the girl from afar, fascinated by her confidence and courage. He saw her as a hero in the making, someone who never let herself be intimidated, even by the toughest situations. One day, as Kirishima lingered in the yard, he saw something that deeply marked him.

A group of older boys was bullying a younger student, pushing him around and mocking him. Kirishima felt outraged but at the same time paralyzed. His body refused to move, his voice remained stuck in his throat. He wanted to intervene, but a visceral fear held him back. His fists clenched, but he remained immobile, frozen by uncertainty and anxiety.

That's when Mina burst onto the scene with two friends. Without hesitating for a moment, she stepped between the boy and his bullies. In the end, by getting the bullies to dance with her to calm the situation, the pink-haired girl managed to defuse the occurrence without any problem. The young boy she had defended thanked her with tears in his eyes, while Mina smiled warmly, as if what she had just done was the most natural thing in the world.

Kirishima, hidden behind a tree, felt a mix of admiration and shame. He admired the pink-haired girl's courage, but he also felt deeply disappointed in his own inability to act. Why hadn't he been able to do what she had done? Why had his body betrayed him at that crucial moment?

He wondered what made him a coward while Mina was so brave. He had always dreamed of becoming a hero, but how could he achieve that if he couldn't even defend someone in need?

It wasn't the only occurrence that day… Unfortunately…

In the afternoon, as Kirishima was heading home, he heard piercing screams coming from an alley. The sound resonated with such intensity that he felt his heart tighten. When he rushed to see what was happening, he saw something that horrified him.

A villain, a massive and terrifying figure, a true mountain of muscles and rage, hidden under a cape and hood that only revealed the lower part of his face. In front of him, two young girls Kirishima's age were petrified with fear, their eyes pleading desperately for a way out.

The villain, in a thunderous voice that echoed like a clap of thunder, demanded to know which direction to take to escape his pursuers. He threatened to crush them if they didn't answer. Kirishima stood there, hidden in the shadow of a building, paralyzed by the same fear that had overwhelmed him earlier. He knew this was his chance, the opportunity to prove that he wasn't a coward. Yet his legs refused to move, his fists remained useless at his sides.

Then, a familiar figure appeared. Mina Ashido, with the same determination she had shown in the schoolyard that morning, rushed towards the villain without the slightest hesitation. Her heart was pounding, and she masked her fear. Getting close enough to catch the giant's attention, she smiled bravely, her eyes sparkling with sharp intelligence.

"You're looking for a direction?", she asked with deceptive confidence, "Take this road, straight ahead, then turn right, continue for a hundred meters, turn left, and you'll find a clear avenue."

What she didn't mention was that this path led directly to the nearest police station.

The villain stared at Mina, his sharp eyes searching for a lie in her expression, but her unwavering confidence seemed to convince him. With a grunt of satisfaction, he turned his back on the young girls, heading in the direction Mina had indicated. As soon as he was out of sight, Mina collapsed to her knees, releasing all the fear and stress by crying. Kirishima, watching from afar, felt a wave of relief wash over him. But that relief was quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of shame.

He should have intervened. It was his duty, his dream to become a hero… and yet, once again, he had been unable to overcome his fear. At that moment, Kirishima felt deeply disappointed in himself. He remembered the words he had heard from the mouth of Red Riot, whom he admired so much: 'A hero is someone who acts, even when they are afraid.'

But what had he done? Nothing. He had done nothing.

He went home that day, his heart heavy, and locked himself in his room. The mirror reflected a boy with black hair, his face marked by that scar on his eyebrow, the symbol of a power he now deemed insignificant and didn't want. Kirishima let himself fall onto his bed, his gaze empty, and murmured in a breath.

"Maybe I'm not cut out to be a hero."

The following days were tinged with that sense of resignation. He avoided Mina, his friends, and even his own thoughts about his dream.

He thought about giving up, abandoning this ambition that seemed increasingly distant. But deep down, a small voice refused to die out. That voice that reminded him why he wanted to become a hero in the first place, why he wanted to protect others.

But he couldn't give up on his dreams. The spark of his dreams persisted and didn't fade away. It was thanks to an interview with his idol and the memory of his crushing failures that he decided to give it a shot despite his insecurity.

End of Flashback.

An arm wrapped around the redhead's shoulders, and Mina snuggled up to him.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Kirishima. Who charged the portal villain back at the USJ without fear, you and Bakugo, but especially you. Don't let your dark thoughts drag you down. I'm not capable of doing it, but you are. Stay strong like you are.", the pink-haired girl murmured.

A silence, this time peaceful, filled the room...

There was a rumbling sound, and Mina looked down, embarrassed…

"Ah… Uh… Hehe… I think…"

Kirishima cut her off with a smile.

"Shall we go eat?"

"Y-Yeah, I admit I'm a bit hungry…", said the pink-haired girl.

/

Denki Kaminari slowly stuffed a bite of his meal into his mouth, thoughtfully, and chewed it even more slowly than he had put it in.

'Do they blame me?', the electric boy wondered.

'... Maybe…'

The USJ had been a nightmare for him. The attack itself had been manageable; they had repelled it quickly enough…

However… The drilling villain… Drillstorm, that's what the news had called him…

That had been a different story… He had been petrified with horror, unable to move… To… To try to help. Damn it, his classmates had been in trouble—Jiro, Yaoyorozu, the clones—they had been in trouble.

And he hadn't had the strength to react… No courage to react, to move his stupid ass from the spot where he had frozen.

It was Yaoyorozu who had come to get him, damn it! She shouldn't have had to do that if he had just moved his useless butt! And on top of that, his lack of reaction had caused a death… The death of… Of… What was his name again…?

He wanted to slam his head on the table. And now he was forgetting the guy's name?! Sometimes he hated his quirk. And the USJ only reinforced that feeling.

Someone sat down at the table.

"Hey, Denki, are you okay?"

Denki looked up at the voice.

Jiro. The blue-haired girl had indeed sat across from him, wearing a pair of headphones, but with one earphone placed behind her ear.

"Huh? What?", the electric boy asked, having already forgotten the question. He cursed his quirk again for that…

"I was asking if you were okay.", the blue-haired girl repeated calmly. Usually, people sighed or something like that, but Jiro always seemed calm when talking to him if he wasn't teasing her or saying apocalyptic nonsense, as if she knew what his quirk did to him.

"I… Yeah… Well… No… I have regrets.", the boy admitted. "I think I could've done more at the USJ instead of… Yeah… Just standing there like a useless idiot watching… And if I hadn't… been as scatterbrained as I always am… I… I think I could've prevented the death of… Oh crap… What was his name again…"

"Tarrenn.", the blue-haired girl answered, still with that calm tone.

Denki thanked her silently with a nod, then it was Jiro's turn to speak.

"I have regrets too."

The boy's eyes widened in surprise.

"If I had been more careful, if I had been more diligent when designing my costume, I would have had something to protect my ears. And…", her voice cracked, "We could have avoided all this if I could have heard that… Monster…"

She lowered her gaze.

"I know my ears are sensitive and need protection… But I didn't plan for something to protect them… I don't want you to carry the weight of guilt alone; that's not fair… I also have part of the burden to bear on my shoulders… So please, don't blame yourself. Friends are there to support each other, right?"

Stars glimmered in the boy's eyes.

"Yeah… That's why friends exist…"

The dark mood lessened a bit, the weight shared; he would always carry the blame, but it was easier to bear with two than alone.

However, he couldn't help but crack a joke.

"So, what brings you to me, the handsome loner sitting at a table?"

The blue-haired girl's expression changed instantly. And…

"KRAKATPOTAK!", the electric boy exclaimed in a strangled voice when Jiro's jack extended and jabbed him in the arm.

"I could ask you why you're the loner at this table, Pikachu."

Jiro teased back, hitting the mark as Denki reacted by pouting.

"Not cool…"

Jiro burst out laughing.

The weight of the USJ temporarily pushed aside, the air seemed more breathable… Honestly, Denki was grateful to her. Very grateful for being the friend she was to him.

Or more…

/

Sometimes, accepting the death of vods was difficult. Very difficult. For some clones, they could move on despite the death of many of their brothers before their eyes. Annihilated companies sometimes saw their survivors emerge completely cold and devoid of any emotion, and when these survivors were asked how they felt, they often replied:

'Nothing. I felt nothing at all.'

For officers, this was normal; they had to hold on. Officers like Bacara of the Galactic Marines, Neyo of the 91st Corps, or even Fox of the Coruscant Guard, were known for being cold and completely indifferent to losses. Their men were just as cold, moving forward despite the worst possible losses, a shell could explode in the middle of a squad of Marines, killing all but one, but the survivor would continue straight ahead, busted and dirty armor covered in the blood and guts of his squadmates, his mind solely focused on the objective.

However, the Horn Company had never been like that. Although the former captain, Marauder, had been extremely cold with the rest of the company, Lock, who succeeded him, advocated unity for everyone. Although some remained isolated and many stayed within their squads, it worked pretty well.

Then came the three years here. It had been paradise. In the end, everyone had done magnificently well, and they were more united than ever. So, seeing seven of his vods get demolished had been a profound shock.

For Crackpot, it was especially Mag's death that had affected him. He had been close by but hadn't been able to do anything to prevent his brother from having his skull crushed by a big block of ice. It hurt him.

A lot.

He hadn't been able to sleep much since then, despite his vods best effort to support him.

"And lift!", Neex said, raising the crate. Crackpot followed the movement more slowly, as disturbed as he was.

If the AT trooper noticed, he didn't say anything, and the two moved through the corridors of their new barracks, which were bustling with activity as everyone went about their duties. The pair finally arrived at their destination, but Riot, who seemed to be on inventory duty, opened the crate and said.

"This isn't the right place for the crate. You've got armor pieces; here is more for electronic equipment. Check your maps. You should see a room called the armory. That's where it goes."

"Oh, kriff…", someone cursed behind them. Crackpot turned around and noticed that Omen and Nylimm were behind them, the former grumbling like the pessimist he was, and Nylimm checking the map to be sure.

"Move it, guys. Lieutenant Torda wants everything stored before two o'clock so we can prepare for this evening.", the sergeant instructed.

"Yes, sir.", Neex said. Crackpot, on the other hand, remained silent… Yeah… Tonight… The funerals. Just thinking about it made him feel terrible.

He felt the crate move and heard Neex say.

"Come on, Crackpot, let's go; I've found it."

The journey resumed in silence until they reached the armory. It was Dengloy who managed the equipment intake. The lieutenant opened the crate, looked inside, and instructed.

"Go place it at the back, and someone will take over to store everything. Thanks for your help," the lieutenant ordered in a slightly tired voice. It was true that everyone was quite exhausted; the last few days had been hard on everyone. But they didn't show it; they were soldiers, after all…

But even soldiers had their limits.

As he was placing the crate, Crackpot felt it.

Dizziness. He opened his mouth to say something, but the world spun violently around him.

He fell like a stone.

/

Recovery Girl looked up when she heard a cacophony of groans and clashing armor pieces echoing through the hallway outside the infirmary. The door opened, and three clones entered.

The elderly woman recognized Lockdown but didn't recognize the other two. One bore the medical symbol and was helping Lockdown support another clone, who was dragging his feet, head tilted forward.

"What happened?", the nurse immediately inquired as she approached the trio.

"Lack of sleep. Crackpot hasn't been able to sleep properly since the attack. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the students start dropping as well.", the other medic clone replied.

"Poor boy…", Recovery Girl murmured sympathetically. It was cruel that kids were being exposed to combat. To death, blood, and everything that battles could bring…

What Lockdown had told her about them and their creation indicated an unhealthy 'habit' of fighting, but the other young students didn't deserve that. Neither did the clones; they had all been forced into it. But while the clones had a soldier's mentality due to their origins and the studies of their army-passionate creator, the kids in Class 1-A didn't deserve it at all.

"Lay him on a bed, I'll take care of him… Thank you for coming, Lockdown and…?", said the old woman.

"Hm? Oh! My apologies for the lack of introduction… Midnight. My name is Midnight.", the medic clone said as he and Lockdown laid their brother down on a bed.

Recovery Girl froze for a moment.

"Midnight… Like my colleague, the teacher?"

The clone nodded.

"If you're talking about the woman who tries to seduce everyone and smells really good, then yes.", the mediclone responded with a nod.

"Oh, you've had the chance to meet her? Don't worry, Midnight uses that only as a cover; she's a lovely and very knowledgeable woman."

The two clones exchanged a look.

"I see…", said Midnight. Lockdown then burst into laughter, surprising the old woman.

However, the laughter choked in his throat when the door suddenly flew open, revealing someone—who turned out to be Hagakure.

Lockdown activated the thermal vision in his helmet, and upon seeing the expression on the invisible girl's face, he understood that there was a problem with one of the students.

"What's wrong?" Recovery Girl asked, instantly regaining her professionalism.

"It's… Rikido… Sato… Ma'am…", Hagakure began, out of breath, "He's… having… a… panic… attack…"

Midnight immediately straightened upon hearing that.

"We'll handle it, ma'am. Take care of our brother.", Lockdown said, before nodding to Hagakure, "Lead the way."

The invisible girl nodded and took off running, followed by the two mediclones sprinting at full speed.

Recovery Girl stood there, surprised by the speed and reaction of the two clones. Goodness… they knew their stuff… The old woman gave a sad smile. It was good they had such seriousness, but she found it terribly sad that they had to acquire it the hard way…

But she trusted them; what she had seen was impressive, and she knew the two knew their job well.

She turned to Crackpot, lying on the bed, and sighed. She had someone to take care of…

/

Lockdown and Midnight followed Hagakure, sprinting like their lives depended on it. Midnight had cranked up his helmet's microphones to the max, and between breaths, was shouting at the top of his lungs.

"MAKE WAY! MEDICS COMING THROUGH!"

The students in the hallways scattered like insects before a giant as the two medic clones and Hagakure zoomed past like missiles.

They took the turns without slowing down, occasionally bumping into students who weren't quick enough to move, but they did so as gently as possible.

Finally, they arrived at the cafeteria, where a crowd had formed around the completely panicked boy.

That was already a bad sign.

They shouldn't have done that. Midnight shouted, and his voice rang out like a clap of thunder.

"CALM DOWN! WE'LL HANDLE THIS, PLEASE STEP BACK AND GO ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS!"

All eyes turned to the trio, who approached at a slower pace, the clones catching their breath and Hagakure, who had made the round trip at a full sprint, panting heavily.

Lockdown couldn't help but put a hand on her shoulder as they passed.

"Thanks, Hagakure.", the mediclone said before focusing on the task at hand. The students had stepped aside to let them through, but that didn't mean they had left.

Midnight glanced at them.

"What part didn't you understand? Move! Now!", the mediclone growled like an enraged dog. That finally made those who remained frozen back away.

Lockdown approached the boy. He had forgotten that Rikido Sato was literally a powerhouse, and one punch could probably break his jaw even with his helmet on. Even with it, he feared the strength the boy might unleash.

He approached slowly, cautiously; the boy was leaning against a bench, almost curled up, his uniform covered in a semi-liquid red substance, also dripping from a burst ketchup packet. Nearby, the contents of a tray were scattered on the floor, and across from him, on the other bench, sat a petrified and utterly confused Koji Koda.

Lockdown crouched down and began to speak in a low voice.

"It's okay. It's just in your head; there's nothing there. You're safe."

The boy looked at him with wide eyes as they met the clone's cold, black visor. The boy swung a fist that could have broken Lockdown's nose, even with the helmet, if the medic hadn't reacted quickly thanks to his reflexes.

"Whoa!", the mediclone exclaimed, throwing himself backward, "Midnight?"

"Yep! Still here.", came the reply.

"Can you take care of Koda, please?"

The other clone nodded and approached the boy, reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, that it was pure coincidence this happened.

Lockdown turned back to his 'fight' and took off his helmet.

"Rikido Sato, it's okay, calm down. You're safe."

Maybe it was the helmet that had triggered the boy so violently because when the boy looked up again, he seemed to regain some control.

Lockdown removed his pack and pulled out a warm blanket, which he draped over the boy, also covering the ketchup stains on his uniform.

"Yeah, that's it, nice and easy. Breathe in, breathe out. Good? Okay. Do it. Breathe in, breathe out."

The boy did as the mediclone instructed and gradually calmed down. Sato took a deep, trembling breath before exhaling…

"Thank you…", the boy said in a low voice once he was calmed down enough.

"You're welcome. It's just my job. Be careful with ketchup packets next time. By the way, you should wash your face, you've got some all over it."

The gentle giant that was Sato nodded slowly before rising to his feet.

Honestly, Lockdown was surprised he had cracked like that… But then, appearances didn't mean much.

"Sorry about the punch… I could've hit you really hard."

The clone smiled warmly.

"It's okay. No need to worry. By the way, try to see a psychologist as soon as you can. They'll help you as best as they can."

Sato turned to Koda, who was sitting, looking a bit less worried after Midnight had successfully convinced him that it wasn't his fault.

"Sorry, Koda…" the big boy apologized.

Koda didn't speak but timidly nodded. Sometimes, Lockdown wondered how such kind and gentle people could be capable of violence or even become heroes. He wasn't there to judge, though; if they were there, they had earned it.

The medic put his helmet back on.

Well, that was handled…

/

Aizawa sat down in his chair in the teacher's lounge with care, trying to avoid hurting himself... He was exhausted, as always, but today it was worse... And he was especially worried.

Even though he hadn't known his class for long, he had already grown attached to them, more than he would ever admit to anyone else, he wasn't the emotionless man some students called him. These kids had gotten him used to their noise, their cheerfulness, their absentmindedness, but combined to their eagerness to learn and improve to become real heroes...

But today… He was hit by a shock.

That... silence.

A deathly silence, like a bottomless pit... That's what his class had fallen into. Some were slowly coming out of it, but the joviality and joy had vanished…

He raised a hand to his head, before remembering that he should avoid moving his forearm as much as possible.

He sighed and tried to make himself as comfortable as his body would allow. He had failed in his duty as a teacher. Now, he bore the deaths of seven clones and the trauma of his students on his already heavily burdened shoulders... In addition to everything he already bore from his career… And… The death of Oboro

"Ah! Shota! How are you, my friend?", Hizashi Yamada, also known as Present Mic, sat down in the chair directly across from him. The volume of his voice pierced Aizawa's eardrums, making him wince in pain.

"Hizashi, the volume!", the raven-haired man groaned.

"Oops, sorry, Shota, I forgot.", Hizashi apologized with a sheepish expression.

Aizawa could have sworn he did it on purpose just to tease him sometimes.

Aizawa straightened up slightly in his chair, trying to adjust his posture to ease the pain that was creeping back into his back once again. Despite his fatigue, he didn't have the luxury of giving in to it completely. The situation with his class was too concerning for that. The recent events had left deep marks, far beyond physical injuries. The trauma was palpable, like an omnipresent shadow hanging over his students.

"Shota, are you sure you're going to be okay?" Hizashi asked, more softly this time, concern evident on his usually cheerful face.

He was used to seeing his friend tired, even exhausted—it was just how he was—but this time, it was different. There was something darker, heavier.

Aizawa looked up at him, a spark of gratitude in his dull eyes. He knew his friend was there for him, that he didn't have to carry everything alone, but the habit of managing on his own was deeply ingrained in him.

"I'm doing what I can, Hizashi…", he finally replied, his raspy voice betraying his exhaustion.

"It's not up to you to carry everything, you know.", The soft, sultry voice of Midnight, or Nemuri Kayama, echoed through the teacher's lounge. She entered with her usual grace, but her expression was serious, even stern, contrasting with her generally provocative demeanor.

"Midnight…", Aizawa murmured as he saw her approach. She gave him a pointed look, almost reproachful.

"You don't need to play the martyr, Shota. We're here to help. We're all in this together."

Nemuri approached him, placing a delicate but firm hand on his shoulder. She could feel the tension under her fingers, as if her colleague was on the verge of breaking, yet stubbornly refusing to admit it.

"I know…", Aizawa finally conceded, lowering his gaze. He didn't like exposing his vulnerability, even to close friends, but he knew that Nemuri and Hizashi were right. He couldn't handle everything on his own, not this time.

"How are they doing?", Nemuri asked, her voice full of kindness but also gravity.

Aizawa sighed deeply, trying to run a hand through his messy hair.

"They're... broken, most of them. Some are trying to recover, but... it's going to take time. And I'm not sure I have the skills to help them get through this."

Nemuri and Hizashi exchanged a look. It was rare to hear Shota doubt his abilities. He was usually so confident, so firm in his convictions. This uncertainty was a clear sign of the extent of the damage. They had suffered too, but… Shota had taken the worst of it.

"We'll get through this together.", Nemuri said with fierce determination, "They need all of us. You, me, Hizashi, and even Snipe, Ectoplasm, and the others. It's by working together that we'll help them overcome this."

"Nemuri's right, Shota.", Hizashi added with a gentle smile, "We've been through so much already, and we're still here. These kids have potential, they just need time... and us."

Aizawa slowly nodded, recognizing the truth in their words. He still felt the crushing weight on his shoulders, but he knew now that he wasn't alone in carrying it.

As they talked, other staff members began to enter the teacher's lounge. Snipe, his face hidden behind his gas mask, gave a quick nod before heading to the coffee machine. Ectoplasm, always calm and stoic, took a seat at a nearby table. Power Loader was the last to enter, discussing plans to reinforce the workshop's infrastructure with Cementoss, their low voices blending into the ambient atmosphere.

The atmosphere in the room was more somber than usual. Everyone felt the impact of recent events. UA's security had been compromised, and the teachers knew that it had left an indelible mark, not only on the students but on them as well.

Nemuri sat down next to Aizawa, leaning slightly to meet his gaze.

"You know, I was thinking we could organize something to lift the students' spirits. Nothing too complicated, just a moment where they could relax, reconnect with each other…"

Hizashi nodded vigorously, visibly excited by the idea.

"Yeah, that could be a great idea! Like a... spontaneous party, or maybe a group activity. They need to remember that they're not alone, that we're here for them. We could ask Vlad if we can organize a joint activity with Class 1-B?"

Aizawa listened to them, thinking it over. Part of him resisted the idea, fearing it might seem inappropriate, even superficial, given the gravity of the situation. But another part of him, deeper down, knew it could actually help. These kids needed support, not just as students, but as human beings.

And besides, he could ease up on them for a day or two. Just for them and for no one else.

"Alright.", he finally said, a faint smile forming on his lips, something rare, hidden by his bandages.

"We can try. But nothing too extravagant. It has to be something simple, sincere."

"Count on us for that, Shota!" Hizashi replied, his voice regaining a bit of its usual volume, despite his visible effort to stay moderate.

"We'll come up with something that will do them good, I promise."

Nemuri also smiled, satisfied to see that Aizawa was willing to accept their help. She stood up, ready to start organizing this little surprise for the students.

"We'll talk to the others and see what we can do," she said as she walked away, followed by Hizashi, who was practically bouncing with excitement, already full of ideas.

Aizawa remained seated, watching them walk away to discuss with the other teachers. Their efforts to lift the students' spirits warmed his heart a little. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment, trying to relax in the relative calm of the teacher's lounge.

Suddenly, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. He opened his eyes to see Nemuri had returned, a reassuring smile on her lips.

"Hey, by the way, you don't have to do everything alone, alright?" she said softly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Aizawa nodded, touched by her gesture. He wasn't alone, even if his instincts often told him otherwise.

Together, they would rebuild what had been broken, step by step. And if it took time and effort, Aizawa was ready to put in the work, no matter how difficult it might be.


Yeah... That was a lot of flashbacks... But I'm glad I finished it! At least it allows some new perspectives of each character, and their goals... Yes it doesn't change a lot... But it's a small touch!

With that, Blackhound560 going dark! See y'all next chapter!