The sun filtered through the blinds of Shinji's room, painting the walls with soft streaks of gold. The hum of life outside was faint but steady, the sound of a city waking up. Shinji groaned, blinking clearly as the light assaulted his eyes.
He stretched, his muscles protesting slightly after the strain of the day before. His body ached, a dull reminder of his transformation and everything that had transpired. Yet, it wasn't unbearable, just another weight to carry, like so many others.
Sitting up, Shinji glanced at the bandage he'd wrapped around his arm the night before. The makeshift dressing was stained with a faint spot of red, but it had held. He flexed his fingers, testing for pain, and found it tolerable.
Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he stood and made his way to the bathroom. The cold tile under his feet jolted him fully awake. The mirror reflected a tired but resolute face back at him. Dark circles framed his eyes, but his gaze was steady.
After quickly washing up, Shinji moved to the kitchen, the faint sound of his bare feet padding against the floor breaking the silence. The smell of lingering disinfectant greeted him, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the sunlight spilling in through the small window.
And there it was.
The faint pink stain still marred the pristine white counter.
Shinji froze, his gaze locked on the spot. The events of last night flooded back in an instant, the knife, the blood, the desperate need for some kind of proof, any proof, that he was still human.
He inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness of the memory. It felt surreal now, distant, as though it had happened to someone else. Yet the stain was a stark reminder that it hadn't.
Grabbing a sponge, Shinji scrubbed at the counter. The pink faded further but didn't entirely disappear, leaving the faintest of marks, one only he would notice. He stared at it for a moment longer before setting the sponge aside.
One step at a time, he reminded himself.
He moved about the kitchen, preparing a quick breakfast, a piece of toast, some eggs, and a glass of water. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get him going. As he ate, his mind wandered to what the day would bring. The chaos of UA was bound to test him again, but he was determined to meet it head-on.
When the clock struck 7:30, Shinji grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He stepped out into the crisp morning air, the quiet of UA's campus surrounding him. The stillness was almost eerie, broken only by the occasional bird call or the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.
Shinji paused for a moment, standing on the walkway outside the dorm. The sky above was a pale blue, streaked with hints of gold as the sun rose higher. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to shake off the weight of the previous day and night.
He knew there would be questions.
Questions he didn't want to answer.
He would, to the best of his ability, in any case.
What he really wasn't looking forward to was explaining the state of the training grounds to Aizawa or Nezu. He figured they probably knew by now, either from reviewing the cameras or from someone reporting the noise. The memory of the cracked concrete and shattered equipment still weighed heavily on him.
But how could he possibly explain what had happened? How could he tell them he had been fighting a figment of his imagination without sounding completely insane?
Was he already?
The thought lingered, heavier than he wanted to admit. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he walked. The image of the specter flashed in his mind, its mocking grin, its piercing eyes, and the way it had taunted him, twisted his fears and doubts into something palpable.
No one else could see it, but he could feel it. Feel its presence like a shadow that never left.
Shinji shook his head sharply, trying to dispel the thoughts. He couldn't let them spiral out of control. He had made it through worse, hadn't he? The Breach, the kaiju, the countless battles that had left scars on his body and mind.
But this… this was different.
He wasn't sure if he could fight something that lived inside him. Something that felt as real as the blood that had dripped onto the counter last night.
The main building loomed closer, and Shinji forced himself to focus. He would deal with Aizawa and Nezu if they brought it up. He would find some way to explain it.
He had to.
Because the alternative… the idea of them thinking he wasn't stable enough to stay here…
That wasn't an option.
When Shinji reached the classroom, he was surprised by two things.
First, how large the door was, easily large enough to accommodate even the tallest or most unusual quirks among the students. Its size was imposing but practical, a reminder of how diverse his classmates could be.
Second, that he wasn't the first one to arrive.
Inside, Iida was already seated, his back impossibly straight as he meticulously flipped through the syllabus. He seemed so focused that Shinji almost thought better of interrupting.
The syllabus.
Shinji's stomach dropped as realization hit him, he had completely forgotten to grab the syllabus yesterday. Before he could dwell on his mistake, Lida looked up from his desk, adjusting his glasses with his usual precise movements.
"Ah, Takeyama!" Lida said, his voice crisp and formal. "Good morning. I trust you are prepared for today?"
Shinji stiffened but didn't lift his gaze, opting instead to shuffle toward his desk. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
Lida tilted his head, confused by Shinji's behavior. "Is everything all right?" he asked, concern evident in his tone. "Have I done something to offend you?"
Shinji stopped in his tracks, his shoulders tensing. "No," he said quickly, his voice low. "You didn't do anything."
"Then why won't you look at me?" Lida pressed, stepping forward slightly.
Shinji hesitated, his hand tightening on the strap of his bag. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he muttered, "It's your hair, okay?"
My hair?" Lida repeated, clearly puzzled. His hand instinctively moved to his head.
Shinji hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It just… brings back bad memories," he muttered, his voice quieter now. "Doctors say it's a trauma response, so I apologize if I offend you at all."
Lida's expression softened, his usual formality giving way to a rare moment of understanding. "No offense taken, Takeyama. I understand more than you might think." He paused, adjusting his glasses with a small, deliberate motion. "And on that note, I took the liberty of grabbing your syllabus. After yesterday's… incident, I thought it might save you some trouble."
Shinji blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the gesture. "Oh," he said, finally lifting his gaze slightly to look at Lida. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Lida handed over the neatly folded document, his movements precise as always. "It's important to stay prepared. A hero must always plan ahead." His tone was serious but not overbearing, and Shinji could tell the gesture came from genuine consideration rather than obligation.
"Right," Shinji muttered, taking the syllabus and tucking it into his bag. "Guess I owe you one."
"No need for that," Lida replied, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his face. "Helping others is what we're here for, isn't it?"
Shinji nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upward for the briefest moment. Maybe, just maybe, this new start wouldn't be so bad.
As Shinji settled into his seat, more students began to filter into the classroom, their chatter filling the space with energy. The first to enter was Kirishima, his bright red hair impossible to miss. He gave a hearty wave in Shinji's direction.
"Yo! Takeyama, right? You're the guy who killed it on the fitness test yesterday. That was manly as hell!" Kirishima beamed, plopping down into a seat near the front.
Before Shinji could respond, Bakugo stormed in, his usual scowl plastered on his face. His sharp eyes darted around the room, briefly landing on Shinji. His lips curled in a sneer, but he said nothing, instead slamming his bag down onto a desk near the window.
Behind Bakugo came Mina, her pink skin and bubbly personality lighting up the room as she greeted everyone. "Good morning, everyone! Shinji saw her give him a sidelong glance before quickly averting her eyes.
Ochaco and Midoriya walked in together, their conversation halting when they noticed Shinji. Midoriya offered a small wave. "Good morning, Takeyama," he said, his voice as polite and earnest as ever.
"Morning," Shinji replied curtly, keeping his tone neutral. He couldn't shake the weight of the questions he knew would come.
The room was alive now, with students chatting and laughing as they prepared for the day ahead. Shinji kept to himself, scanning the faces of his classmates. These were the people he'd be spending his time with, training alongside, maybe even fighting beside one day.
Class began not long after, with Aizawa shuffling into the room, his ever-present sleeping bag slung over his shoulder. The lesson was straightforward, a breakdown of what their schedules would entail for the semester and the expectations placed on them as students of UA. Most of it, Shinji had already surmised from glancing at the syllabus earlier that morning.
As the day transitioned into other classes, math, literature, and even basic hero ethics, Shinji quickly found himself struggling. Not with the content but with the stillness. His foot tapped a restless rhythm under the desk, his fingers occasionally drumming against the edge of the table.
The structured environment felt alien to him. Sitting still for extended periods was like a challenge unto itself. His mind wandered, pulling him back to the Breach, where movement meant survival. Sitting still? That would've been a death sentence back then. He shook the thought away, but it lingered like a specter in the back of his mind.
Shinji had managed to keep to himself throughout the day, staying quiet and blending into the background. His seat near the window on the far left offered some semblance of solitude, even if it wasn't his preferred spot. After lunch, the class returned to their desks, chatting casually as they waited for their next teacher.
The door suddenly slammed open, the sound echoing through the room.
"I'M COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!" a booming voice bellowed.
The entire class froze.
"All Might?!" Mina practically screamed, jumping up from her chair.
"No way!" Kirishima shouted, his voice filled with awe.
Even Bakugo, usually unshakable, looked momentarily caught off guard before he narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
Standing in the doorway, larger than life, was All Might in a silver-and-blue costume that looked vintage compared to his usual red, white, and gold. His trademark grin radiated confidence as he strode into the room, his sheer presence electrifying the air.
"That's his Silver Age costume," Asui said, her head tilting slightly. "I've seen it in old hero magazines."
"Whoa, you're right!" Kaminari added, leaning forward with excitement. "Man, it's so retro!"
All Might chuckled, flexing dramatically as he stood at the front of the class. "A hero must honor their roots! This suit saw me through many battles, and today, I'll be using it to guide all of you!"
The class erupted into excited chatter, some students whispering about training sessions, while others speculated about his costume choice.
But not Shinji.
While the others buzzed with excitement, Shinji sat frozen in his seat. His mind was elsewhere, flashing back to the last time he'd been face-to-face with All Might. That time, Shinji hadn't been a student or a hopeful young hero. He'd been a threat, a danger, and All Might had been the one to stop him.
The weight of that memory kept him rooted in place, his gaze fixed firmly on his desk.
The weight of that memory kept Shinji rooted in place, his gaze fixed firmly on his desk. He could feel the buzz of excitement in the room as his classmates fawned over All Might, but for him, the air felt suffocating.
"Welcome to Hero 101!" All Might's voice boomed, snapping Shinji out of his thoughts.
The class erupted in cheers, the energy palpable as students eagerly leaned forward in their seats.
"This is going to be awesome!" Kirishima exclaimed, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
"I wonder what kind of training we'll do," Midoriya muttered, his notebook already out, scribbling furiously.
All Might chuckled, his booming laugh filling the room. "I see you're all eager, and that's exactly the spirit I like to see! But before we dive into today's special activity, let me remind you: being a hero isn't just about strength, it's about heart, perseverance, and the ability to adapt!"
Shinji forced himself to look up, just in time to catch All Might's gaze sweeping the room. When their eyes met, there was a flicker of recognition and acknowledgment, but All Might quickly moved on, turning his attention to the entire class.
"You've already been through some foundational lessons, but today we're taking things up a notch," All Might continued, striking a dramatic pose. "This will be a practical test of your abilities in the field. Something that will challenge your teamwork, instincts, and determination!"
"What kind of test?" Bakugo asked, his tone sharp but intrigued.
All Might grinned. "You'll find out soon enough. But first, suit up!"
Shinji flinched slightly as the sound of mechanical gears whirred to life. A section of the wall slid aside, revealing a row of sleek suitcases neatly arranged and labeled with each student's name.
The room filled with excited murmurs as the class leaned forward to get a better look.
"Whoa! That's so cool!" Kaminari exclaimed, his eyes wide.
"Efficiency at its finest," Iida commented, his hands chopping through the air. "A hero must always be prepared to act swiftly!"
"All right, young heroes!" All Might declared, clapping his hands together. "Inside each of these cases is the hero costume you submitted designs for before enrolling at U.A. These suits represent not just your individuality, but also the tools that will help you protect others."
Shinji's gaze shifted to the wall, searching for his own case. His chest tightened when he spotted his name etched into the metal. He hadn't put much thought into his costume—just something practical and easy to move in. It felt like a lifetime ago when he'd even filled out that form.
"Take your cases and head to the locker rooms to suit up," All Might continued, his grin unwavering. "Once you're ready, report to Ground Beta. That's where the real fun begins!"
The class didn't need to be told twice. Students surged forward, grabbing their respective cases with a mix of eagerness and curiosity. Shinji hung back, waiting for the rush to subside before stepping forward to retrieve his own.
As the flurry of excitement began to settle, All Might's booming voice cut through the chatter. "Remember, young heroes! These tools are not just for show, they're extensions of your will, your drive to protect and serve. Use them wisely, and they'll carry you further than you can imagine!"
Shinji barely registered the words, his focus shifting to the case in his hands. He hesitated for a moment, his grip tightening on the edges.
"Yeah," he mumbled, still avoiding eye contact, his voice barely audible amidst the lingering buzz of the room.
All Might's smile remained gentle as he stepped closer. "I know it's been a tough journey for you, Shinji," he said softly. "But I'm glad to see you're in better health."
Shinji finally looked up, meeting All Might's gaze. "I'm trying," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper.
All Might nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Shinji's shoulder. "That's all we can do, isn't it? One step at a time."
Shinji walked into the locker room, his eyes focused on the floor as he made his way to his locker. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He opened his locker and started to change, his movements slow and deliberate. The suit itself features a high collar that extends to cover the lower part of the face, offering protection from debris and attacks. It's predominantly dark gray with glossy elements, providing a sleek and intimidating look. It includes shoulder guards and joint pads to enhance mobility and protection. The helmet is equipped with a large, tinted visor that covers the eyes, maintaining a clear view while slightly hiding the user. Just as he was putting on the helmet
"Hey, uh, Takeyama," Mineta's voice broke through the silence, hesitant and unsure.
Shinji glanced over his shoulder, meeting Mineta's gaze with a guarded expression. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone neutral but edged with caution.
Mineta hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "For what I said yesterday," he mumbled, his eyes flickering away. "It was stupid, and I shouldn't have—"
"You're fine," Shinji interrupted, his voice softer this time, though still firm.
Mineta's shoulders relaxed slightly, but his uncertainty lingered. "Thanks," he murmured, taking a tentative step back.
Before Mineta could turn fully away, Shinji spoke again, his tone steady but serious. "Just… be careful what you say to others. Not everyone's going to take that kind of talk the way I did."
Mineta nodded quickly, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "Got it," he said, his voice quiet but earnest.
Shinji watched him for a moment before turning back to his locker, pulling his gear out to finish changing. As he adjusted his gloves, he couldn't help but reflect on the brief exchange. He wasn't upset with Mineta anymore—he couldn't be. The kid had room to make mistakes, and as long as he learned from them, that was all that mattered.
But Shinji knew his own margin for error wasn't the same. His actions carried weight, not just for himself but for the people around him. Mineta could apologize and move forward, but Shinji? He wasn't sure the same path was open for him.
He shook off the thought, focusing on the task ahead. The upcoming training session with All Might loomed, and he needed to be ready.
Mineta's apology lingered in his mind, though, not as a point of frustration but as a reminder. Not everyone was out to challenge him or drag him down. Some people were just trying to figure things out, the same way he was.
As he closed his locker and adjusted his uniform, Shinji exhaled slowly, feeling a faint sense of relief. The encounter hadn't solved everything, but it had lightened something—just a little. Enough to let him step forward without as much weight on his shoulders. For now, that would have to be enough.
"They say clothes make the pros, young ladies and gentlemen. Take this to heart. From here on out, you're all heroes in training," All Might said, his voice filled with pride and encouragement as he gestured to the group with a wide, confident smile.
All Might finished his speech, the class filed out of the building and onto a sprawling training ground that resembled the mock city from their entrance exams. But with an added air of tension surrounding Shinji's presence. The students, now suited up in their respective hero costumes, gathered in an expansive training facility. The room was buzzing with excitement as everyone marveled at the array of hero suits.
All Might stood at the front, his larger-than-life presence commanding their full attention. He raised his hand for silence, his cape billowing dramatically despite the lack of wind.
"Welcome, young heroes, to your first Battle Trials!" His booming voice reverberated through the space, drawing cheers from many of the students.
Shinji, however, remained near the back, keeping his visor lowered as he adjusted the fit of his dark gray suit. He scanned the room, his posture stiff, silently observing his classmates' reactions.
All Might continued, pacing with deliberate energy. "Today, you'll be divided into heroes and villains! Your task? To either protect or capture a hidden bomb within a designated building. This will simulate indoor combat, the most common environment for villainous activity! Statistically, more than 60% of major conflicts occur indoors."
Lida raised his hand sharply, his voice cutting through the chatter. "All Might, is this similar to the combat simulation in the mock city from the entrance exams?"
All Might grinned, wagging a finger. "Ah, good question, young Lida! While the mock city is ideal for large-scale urban combat scenarios, the true test of a hero's skill is adapting to tight spaces and unpredictable environments. Villains use the confined nature of buildings to their advantage, tight hallways, limited visibility, ambush points! This trial will test your wits, teamwork, and ingenuity!"
The students exchanged murmurs of excitement and nervousness. Shinji couldn't help but feel the weight of All Might's gaze on him briefly before the pro hero moved on, addressing the group as a whole.
"All right!" Kirishima's enthusiastic voice broke through. "So we get to fight each other? Man, this is gonna be awesome!"
"That's the spirit, young Kirishima!" All Might laughed, his trademark charisma electrifying the air. "Heroes must always be ready for the unexpected! And villains? You must plan and execute carefully if you want to achieve your goals. Today is about strategy as much as strength!"
Shinji adjusted his stance, his mind racing. Teamwork. The word felt alien to him. In the breach, it had been survival, kill or be killed. Now, he had to trust others. He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking slightly.
As All Might explained the rules in more detail, Midoriya stood beside Shinji, adjusting his own gloves nervously. "It's a little intimidating, isn't it?" he whispered.
Shinji tilted his head slightly, his voice low. "Yeah… you could say that."
"Now then!" All Might's booming voice filled the training ground, snapping everyone to attention. "Teams will be drawn at random! Let's see how well you can work together, or stand against one another!"
He reached behind the podium and pulled out a large yellow box with the word LOTS written on the side in big, bold letters. The exaggerated handwriting and bold underline gave it an oddly cheerful vibe.
"I'm sure you're all eager to show off your skills but remember, this is about strategy as much as strength!" All Might said, shaking the box for emphasis. The students leaned in, buzzing with excitement and speculation.
"Random teams, huh?" Kaminari grinned. "This could get interesting."
"I hope I get someone hot," Mineta muttered, clearly worried.
"Luck of the draw," Kirishima said, flexing. "But it doesn't matter who I'm with, I'll make it manly!"
Shinji stood quietly at the edge of the group, his gaze flicking between his classmates and the box. Random pairing meant unpredictability, and that wasn't something he enjoyed. Still, he clenched his fists and forced himself to stay calm. This was just another challenge.
All Might gestured dramatically toward the box. "Step up, young heroes! One by one, draw your fates!"
The students began filing forward to pick their lots, excitement building as they unfolded slips of paper.
The first round was... intense. Shinji stood with his arms crossed, watching the events unfold on the massive monitor in the observation room. The match between Midoriya and Uraraka as the heroes and Bakugo and Iida as the villains was heating up, too much so, in Shinji's opinion.
Midoriya, despite his obvious nervousness and lack of control over his quirk, was fighting with everything he had, countering Bakugo's relentless assaults with calculated moves and surprising agility. However, the sheer ferocity of Bakugo's attacks made Shinji uneasy. It wasn't just aggression; it was borderline murderous intent.
Shinji's left hand clenched as Bakugo unleashed another massive explosion, the sound echoing through the mock city. The screen flickered momentarily as smoke obscured the view, and when it cleared, it revealed Midoriya barely standing, his arms scorched from the blast but his resolve unshaken.
"That idiot's going to kill him," Shinji muttered under his breath, his frustration mounting.
Beside him, Momo frowned, her arms crossed. "Bakugo doesn't seem to understand restraint, does he?"
"No," Shinji replied bluntly. "He's going to lose control, and someone's going to get hurt." His jaw clenched as he watched Midoriya dodge another explosion, this one narrowly missing Uraraka, who was trying to sneak around to the bomb.
The rest of the class watched in a mix of awe and horror. "Midoriya's holding his own," Kirishima said, though his voice carried a note of unease. "But man, Bakugo's not pulling any punches."
Then it happened.
Bakugo, now fully enraged, launched himself at Midoriya with an explosion so powerful that it shook the observation room. Midoriya countered with a move that Shinji hadn't expected, an upward strike, redirecting Bakugo's gauntlet just enough to avoid a direct hit. The resulting explosion sent both of them flying in opposite directions, debris scattering across the battlefield.
All Might, who had been silently observing up until this point, finally intervened. His booming voice echoed through the observation room's speakers. "That's enough, Young Bakugo! Control yourself!"
The match ended shortly after, with Midoriya and Uraraka managing to secure the bomb thanks to Iida's over-commitment to his villain role. But the tension in the air was palpable as Bakugo stormed back into the observation room, his face a mix of rage and frustration.
Shinji stood in silence, his gaze fixed on Bakugo as he stomped past him without a word.
Shinji let out a slow breath, his knuckles loosening. "Reckless doesn't even cover it," he said, his voice low. "That wasn't training, that was a grudge match."
All Might clapped his hands, forcing everyone's attention back to him. "An intense first round! Let this be a lesson: teamwork and self-control are just as important as power!" His eyes swept over Bakugo, who glared at the floor, and then lingered on Midoriya, who was being treated by Recovery Girl.
As All Might moved on to announce the next match, Shinji felt Momo nudge him lightly. "It's our turn," she said, her voice calm but focused.
He nodded, forcing himself to set aside his frustration. "Let's just hope our match isn't as explosive," he muttered, pulling his helmet on.
Momo gave him a small smile. "With proper planning, it won't be. Now, let's show them how it's done."
As they walked toward the building designated for their match, Shinji glanced at Momo, his voice low but thoughtful. "Hey, do you mind if I try something? Lida's villain act earlier, it looked like he was having fun. I figured we could try to channel that energy, you know?"
Momo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Fun? That's not the first word I'd associate with our training, but I'm listening."
Shinji gave a small shrug. "I mean, he went all in, right? The speeches, it was over-the-top, but it worked. He wasn't just playing the role; he was the villain. If we're going up against three opponents, we need to do more than just react. We have to think like villains too. Play dirty if we have to."
Momo nodded slowly. "Alright, that makes sense. What's your plan?"
Shinji hesitated for a moment, glancing at Momo as they walked. "Well, you can make anything, right? Including chemicals? What about something like chloroform? Nothing extreme, just enough to knock them out."
Momo's eyes widened slightly. "Chloroform? That's… an interesting suggestion. But why that specifically?"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "If I'm being honest, I don't trust myself to hold back enough to not seriously hurt them. I've been through too much—fighting for real, not for practice. My instincts kick in when I'm cornered, and I can't guarantee I won't go too far. This way, it's safer for everyone."
Momo studied him for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "I understand. Using something like that would allow us to neutralize them without relying on brute force. It's unconventional, but it could work. I'd just need to visualize the exact chemical structure."
Shinji nodded, grateful Momo wasn't dismissing the idea outright. "That's why I asked you. I trust your abilities, and I know you wouldn't misuse it. If we're playing the villains, we might as well act like villains. However…" He hesitated, glancing away before meeting her eyes again. "If you agree, I want to do something that'll probably have Mr. Aizawa, or Nezu, breathing down my neck later."
Momo arched an eyebrow, curiosity mingled with a bit of concern. "What exactly do you have in mind?"
"I want to cut the power to the lower floors, and…" Shinji trailed off.
"You ok? Momo asked, concern written across her features.
"Yeah, I don't know how to put it into words without sounding insane," Shinji replied, rubbing the back of his head.
Momo nodded thoughtfully, understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Shinji. I get it. You're not alone in feeling that way. Just take a breath and tell me what you're thinking."
"I guess the easiest way to say it is, I basically want to stalk them, like something from a horror movie. In my full transformation, I can see in the dark, and villains tend to use fear, so why not lean into it? I prowl the lower floors in the dark, and you set up an ambush up above."
Momo listened carefully, her expression thoughtful. "
Momo hesitated, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It's risky, but it's not without strategy. You're right, villains use fear. It's not just about hurting them, it's about making them doubt themselves, doubt whether they can trust their own eyes."
Shinji nodded, almost to himself. "Exactly. I want them to feel hunted, and to make mistakes they already have the numbers advantage, actually on that note can we change the temperature here?
"Hmm maybe? Momo said," I'm not sure the buildings are that fleshed out but why would you want to?
Shinji hesitated, his eyes shifting slightly. "Asui's basically a frog, right? If we get it cold enough, we could remove her entirely, do you think that's too much?" He looked a bit sheepish, almost scared at the prospect of going overboard.
Momo smiled softly, her tone gentle. "Probably a bit, plus like I said, I doubt these mock cities have heating, it's a miracle they have electricity."
They settled into a comfortable silence as they walked, and just before they reached the building and the countdown officially started, Shinji spoke up. "Thank you, by the way," he said, his voice a little rougher than he intended.
Momo glanced over at him, a bit taken aback. "For what?"
"For not asking and treating me like another classmate, I mean," Shinji clarified, his eyes flicking to the ground for a moment. "My sister would worry endlessly if I didn't at least try, and you make it easier than some of the others."
Momo shrugged, a casual smile crossing her face. "Hey, we're all in this together, right? Just focus on what you need to do in there. We've got your back."
It didn't take long for them to iron out the rest of the details. Shinji was going to prowl around the first three floors and attempt to take out any of them before they reached the third floor. Then he would regroup with Momo and assist in her ambush.
Momo nodded, her eyes determined as she took it all in. "Got it. I'll be ready when you give the signal to move." She glanced over at Shinji, a small smile crossing her lips. "And if things get too intense, don't hesitate to back out, okay?"
Shinji hesitated for a moment, then gave a brief nod. "I appreciate it. I'll do my best, though. Just, uh…keep me posted on when you're ready."
They shared a brief, tense smile before turning their focus back to the building ahead. The countdown clock was ticking down now, marking the last few seconds before the mission started. Shinji took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and gave Momo a confident nod. "Let's do this."
Shinji struggled with which jaeger to choose but he eventually settled on the full transformation of Tacit Ronin.
The Jaeger gleamed under the dim lighting of the mock city's interior, its sleek and angular design giving off an aura of precision and lethality. As Shinji initiated his transformation, the process was both mesmerizing and unsettling.
The change began with his body shimmering faintly, like a mirage distorting his human silhouette. Metallic white armor seamlessly emerged from beneath his skin, its surface gleaming with metallic accents and sharp, angular edges. The plates interlocked over his frame, forming a solid yet flexible exoskeleton. His height grew as the armor expanded, leaving him towering at 7.5 feet tall. The sharp, streamlined headpiece covered his features entirely, the visor glowing faintly like the eyes of a predator scanning the darkness.
The double-edged swords attached under his arms were securely sheathed, their intimidating presence muted for now. This choice wasn't just tactical; Shinji's movements were measured, careful not to accidentally intimidate or harm Momo. The plating along his arms adjusted to give him full use of his hands, the materials allowing him fluidity and precision without compromising his combat readiness.
Momo took a hesitant step back at first, her eyes wide as she observed the transformation unfold before her. "Shinji…" she breathed, momentarily at a loss for words. The contrast between the sleek, efficient Jaeger and the boy she had just been talking to struck her deeply.
"I made sure to keep the swords sheathed," Shinji said quickly, his voice a touch deeper but still recognizable, muffled slightly by the transformation. "Didn't want to scare you or anything."
Momo's expression softened as she stepped closer, her earlier surprise giving way to curiosity and a faint smile. "It's… impressive.
"I would hope so. It's kind of the only trick I've got," Shinji said with a shrug, his Jaeger-enhanced voice carrying a faint hum of machinery.
Momo raised an eyebrow, her expression softening with amusement. "Only trick? You just turned into a seven-and-a-half-foot mechanical warrior with built-in swords, and you're calling it just a trick, do I even need to get started on your big one?"
Shinji let out a dry laugh, the sound slightly distorted by the Jaeger's vocal system. "Fair point, but I've got to keep myself humble somehow."
Momo crossed her arms, a teasing smile on her lips. "Humble? Or downplaying it so we underestimate you? Because I think we both know what you're capable of."
Her words hung in the air for a moment, and as soon as they left her lips, her expression faltered. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide in regret. "I–I didn't mean it like that," she stammered, clearly horrified by what she had said. "I wasn't trying to bring that up–"
Shinji held up a metallic hand, cutting her off. His expression, as much as it could be read in his transformed state, was neutral. "It's fine," he said, his voice steady. "I'm used to it by now. Everyone knows. It's not like I can escape it."
Momo's hands slowly lowered from her mouth, her concern evident. "Still… I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm sorry."
He tilted his head slightly, his tone softening. "Don't be. You're right, though. What happened is part of who I am, whether I like it or not. And if everyone's going to keep watching, I might as well make the most of it, right?"
Momo hesitated before nodding, her expression resolute. "Right. And for what it's worth, I think you're doing a pretty good job of it."
The corner of Shinji's mouth quirked into a faint, wry smile, visible only through the slight tilt of his head. "Thanks. Now, let's focus on winning this thing."
Momo nodded again, stepping into position for her part of the plan. Despite the awkward exchange, the air between them seemed lighter, a mutual understanding forming in the wake of their words.
The building was cloaked in darkness, the dim emergency lights flickering occasionally, barely illuminating the space. The eerie silence was broken only by the occasional snap of broken glass underfoot and the distant hum of machinery. Shinji moved soundlessly through the shadows, the only sign of his presence the occasional whisper of his footsteps or the soft drag of his blade against a concrete wall.
Hummmm…
The low, melodic tune floated through the darkness, barely audible. Shinji's voice, distorted by his Jaeger's vocal system, seemed to come from all directions at once. As the humming grew louder, Kirishima's eyes darted around, and his muscles tensed.
"What is that?" he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.
Asui's voice replied from beside him, her tongue flicking out as she tried to catch any hint of movement. "Listen."
Scrape... scrape...
The sound of Shinji's blade scraping against the wall made the three heroes jump. It was close, almost too close. They couldn't pinpoint where he was, and that was unsettling enough. Shinji was playing with their senses, making them doubt everything around them.
Suddenly, the lights went out completely. Kirishima's heart skipped a beat as the darkness swallowed them whole. The only sound now was the slow, deliberate dragging of Shinji's blade, a steady, rhythmic noise.
Hummmm...
The noise came again, just behind them. Kaminari yelped, stumbling over his own feet. Asui turned, her eyes wide, scanning the darkness.
"This must be Takeyama" she called out, her voice steady despite the concern in her eyes. "Show yourself! Ribbit"
Silence followed, and then, scrape. This time, it was closer, much closer. Kaminari turned, his eyes wide.
"Takeyama, where are you?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
"Stay calm!" Asui urged, keeping her back to Kirishima's, their eyes darting around the pitch-black room.
Hummmm... scrape, scrape, scrape…
Shinji moved deliberately, his presence now seemingly all around them. The rhythm of his movements was maddening, the low hum making the walls feel alive. Momo's earlier words echoed in his mind—let fear be their weakness.
"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to fight?" Shinji's voice came from behind them again, the distortion making it sound otherworldly.
Kirishima spun around, his eyes wide. "Show yourself, coward!"
Scrape.
The blade touched something metal, Shinji dragged the blade slowly, a soft metallic squeal reverberating through the floor.
"Go on, find me," Shinji's voice taunted from the shadows.
"Damn it!" Kirishima shouted, turning in circles trying to find his foe
Shinji chuckled, a low, dark sound that seemed to come from all around them. "Nice try. How about something scarier?"
The lights flickered back on, just for a second, showing Shinji's Jaeger form in the distance, an enormous, white silhouette against the dim backdrop. He stood perfectly still, the blades under his arms fully out and pierced slightly into the ground.
"Boo," he whispered, his voice full of mockery.
The flickering lights vanished again, plunging the floor into darkness once more. The brief glimpse of Shinji's Jaeger form lingered in their minds like a phantom, and his voice echoed in the silence.
"Did… did he just say 'boo'?" Kaminari stammered, his attempt at humor falling flat as his voice wavered.
"That's not funny, Kaminari," Asui said, her tone steady but tense. Her eyes darted around, and her senses heightened. "He's trying to mess with us. ribbit"
Kirishima clenched his fists, his teeth gritted in frustration. "Then let him try! I'm not scared of some shadows!" His voice was loud, but the slight tremble betrayed him.
A faint scraping sound echoed from somewhere, metal dragging against metal. The sound grew louder, sharp, and deliberate, like the slow sharpening of a blade. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, bouncing off the walls and making it impossible to pinpoint.
"He's playing with us," Asui whispered. "We need to stay calm and stick together."
"Calm? This guy's a freak!" Kaminari exclaimed, sparks of electricity crackling around him. "We should just blast him and be done with it!"
"No," Kirishima said firmly, stepping ahead to shield his teammates. "He's trying to bait us. We can't give him what he wants."
The dragging sound stopped abruptly, leaving an eerie silence in its place. A low, distorted chuckle echoed through the darkness, followed by Shinji's mocking voice. "Smart move, Kirishima. But not smart enough."
Before anyone could react, a loud crash erupted from above, debris and dust falling as the sound of twisting metal and splintering concrete reverberated around them. The team instinctively turned toward the noise, their attention momentarily diverted.
It was all the opening Shinji needed.
In a flash of movement, he lunged from the shadows, his Jaeger form looming over Kirishima like a predator. Before the others could shout a warning, Shinji grabbed Kirishima in a vice-like grip and yanked him into the darkness. His metallic figure disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Kaminari and Asui spinning around in confusion.
"Kirishima?!" Kaminari called out, panic lacing his voice.
"Kirishima!" Asui echoed, her tone sharper.
Somewhere deeper in the shadows, Shinji pinned Kirishima to the ground, his movements precise and efficient. A rag soaked in chloroform appeared in his hand, and he pressed it against Kirishima's face.
The hardened hero-in-training struggled, his skin turning to stone in defense. "You... you're not gonna-" he grunted, his voice weakening as the chemical took effect.
"Don't worry," Shinji said, his voice a cold whisper. "You'll wake up... eventually."
Kirishima's struggles slowed, his eyelids drooping as unconsciousness took over. Shinji eased him to the floor with care, ensuring no lasting harm, then melted back into the shadows.
The dragging sound of metal resumed, louder and closer than before. "One down," Shinji's voice taunted, echoing ominously through the halls. "Two to go."
Shinji moved silently through the second floor, his form a ghost in the dim, flickering light. The mock building had been designed for urban combat simulations, but now it felt like something out of a nightmare. The power had been cut as part of his plan, leaving the halls in near-total darkness, except for the faint emergency lights casting weak, inconsistent beams across the space.
His footsteps were deliberate, slow, echoing faintly against the walls. Every now and then, he let the edge of his blade scrape against the metal surface, the sound sharp and grating. It was all part of the game, fear was a weapon, and he intended to wield it.
Kaminari's voice broke through the silence, soft and edged with unease. "Why's he taking so long? I thought he'd be on us by now."
"Maybe he's waiting for us to mess up," Asui replied, her tone calm but cautious. "We should stick together. If we split up, we'll be easy targets. Ribbit"
"Yeah, but this is creepy as hell," Kaminari muttered, gripping his wrist-mounted pointer nervously. "Like… where even is he?"
Shinji smirked under his helmet, their unease feeding his resolve. But as he rounded another corner, the air seemed to shift. He paused, his sensors picking up nothing unusual, but his instincts screamed otherwise.
The walls around him shimmered briefly, their smooth surfaces distorting as if something unseen pressed against them. For a fraction of a second, they weren't walls anymore, they were trees. Massive, gnarled trunks with roots clawing at the ground, their jagged branches casting sharp, skeletal shadows that seemed to reach for him.
Shinji froze, his breath caught in his throat as the scent of damp earth and decaying foliage flooded his senses. The air grew heavier, thick with an oppressive silence broken only by the faint rustle of invisible leaves.
He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as though trying to dislodge the image from his mind. "No," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. "It's not real."
When his eyes opened again, he was back in the mock building. The metallic walls were cold and unmoving, their sharp edges illuminated by faint emergency lights. His hands, still trembling, hovered over the claws that had dug into the floor without him realizing.
For a moment, relief washed over him, but it was fleeting. He couldn't shake the feeling that the forest was still there, lurking just behind the veil of reality, waiting for the slightest crack to emerge again.
He leaned against the wall, his breathing uneven, and tried to refocus. This was supposed to be a controlled exercise, a chance to prove himself, to play the role of a villain, and to demonstrate his cunning. But the ghosts of the Breach had followed him here, and they weren't going to let him forget.
Shinji steadied himself, his claws retracting slightly as he pushed off the wall. "Get it together," he muttered. "You're here, not there. This is a trial, not a fight for survival."
The distant sound of Kaminari and Asui's cautious movements reached his ears, reminding him of the task at hand. For now, he would focus on the game, even as the shadow of the Breach loomed large in his mind.
Shinji gritted his teeth, the echo of their footsteps growing louder as they drew closer to the area. His body tensed instinctively, slipping into a more predator-like stance. He could hear the faint buzz of Kaminari's electric charge, and the occasional rustling of Asui's limbs as she moved silently, but there was a growing sense of dread in the air, a tension he couldn't shake.
The walls, still flickering in his vision, seemed to close in. He could almost hear the low groan of tree branches snapping under the weight of an unseen force, the distant roar of something far more powerful than any of the heroes in training. But it was just his mind playing tricks—he had to block it out, to focus.
Taking a steadying breath, Shinji slowly began to step away from his hiding place. He knew that if he let them catch even a glimpse of him, it would be over. He needed to move with precision, using the shadows to his advantage. His transformation had given him an edge, but it also made him feel like he was becoming something less human. His heightened senses, his enhanced agility, all of it made him feel like a hunter.
He clenched his fists, the claws beneath his hands clicking together as he tried to steady himself. He couldn't let himself slip. Not now. Not when it would be so easy to lose control.
Shinji pressed his back against the wall, inching his way toward the room where Kaminari and Asui were likely to enter. He didn't want to be seen, he wanted to scare them, to get them off balance. He had the advantage of surprise, and that was all he could rely on.
He closed his eyes for just a second, letting the ambient sounds of the building fill his ears. The slight hum of the electricity, the whisper of Asui's movements, the soft crackle of Kaminari's energy pulsing through the air. He could feel the tension in his muscles as he prepared to spring. He had to make the first move, he had to show them just how much of a threat he was.
The room seemed to stretch, and just as the sounds of his targets drew near, Shinji lunged.
Shinji's movements were sharp and fluid as he circled around, his mind focused on the task at hand. He could hear Kaminari and Asui's cautious steps nearby, but they hadn't noticed him yet. He was waiting for the perfect moment. The cold, mechanical nature of his Jaeger form helped him focus, shutting out the emotions swirling in his mind. He had a job to do, and he couldn't afford to get distracted.
He locked his sights on Kaminari, who was still oblivious to the danger closing in. Shinji lunged forward, swift as a shadow, reaching out to grab Kaminari by the shoulder. The sudden movement caught Kaminari off guard, and before he could react, Shinji's arm swung him around, using his momentum to propel him into a sharp turn toward the concrete wall.
There was a loud thud as Kaminari's head collided with the wall. Shinji immediately let go, stepping back as Kaminari dropped to the floor, unconscious.
For a moment, everything was still. Shinji paused, eyes fixed on the unconscious form of his classmate, but the doubt that would normally cloud his mind didn't come. This was part of the training. He had known the risks, and so had everyone else. They'd signed up for it. This wasn't a mistake; it was part of the process, part of learning how to fight, how to win.
He stood over Kaminari for a moment, watching as the boy's chest rose and fell with steady breaths. He wasn't seriously hurt, and if anything, they had all been trained for situations like this, training to deal with the consequences of their actions in a mock battle. It was a necessary risk.
Asui, standing a few feet away, looked between Shinji and Kaminari, her concern evident. But Shinji's expression remained unmoving as he glanced over at her, his tone surprisingly calm.
"Stand down, Asui," he said, his voice low but clear. "You can't win this."
Asui met his gaze for a moment, her eyes narrowed, but she didn't argue. She knew the truth. The odds were against her now, with Kaminari out cold and Shinji fully transformed, ready to continue the fight.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, her stance softening. "Alright," she said, her voice resigned. "I'm not going to fight you."
Shinji's gaze didn't soften. He knew this was the only way it could end. They were playing by the rules, and part of those rules meant knowing when to stop. Asui had her strengths, but right now, facing him was futile.
The moment of silence stretched on until the sudden booming voice of All Might echoed throughout the arena, cutting through the tension.
"Villains win!" All Might called, his voice filled with the usual cheer but also a sense of finality. "The match is over. Excellent work, Young Takayama."
Shinji allowed himself a brief exhale, his tension fading slightly as the recognition from All Might settled in. The match was done, and there was no turning back. They had won, but at what cost? He couldn't shake the weight of the shadows that still clung to him, those remnants from the Breach, but for now, it was over.
Asui nodded, her expression still thoughtful. "You did well, Takeyama," she said, offering him a brief but respectful smile. "I think we all learned something today."
Shinji, standing tall and composed, simply nodded in return. "We did," he said quietly. "But it's not over yet."
All Might's voice rang out once more, calling the students to gather for the final debriefing. The tension was gone for now, replaced by the hum of exhaustion and accomplishment. The heroes-in-training had learned another valuable lesson, and though it hadn't been an easy one, they were one step closer to understanding the true cost of a battle.
Shinji sat quietly in the observation room, his posture relaxed but his mind still buzzing with the adrenaline of the fight. The sounds of the medic bots carrying Kaminari and Kirishima off to the nurse's office were barely noticeable, their quiet beeps the only indication that things were now calm. Shinji's thoughts, though, were anything but. The battle was over, but a part of him still felt like he was somewhere in the middle of it.
All Might, standing in front of the class with his usual confident grin, raised a hand to call attention. "Alright, everyone! Excellent job out there! Now, let's talk about the MVP!"
The class was already murmuring among themselves, trying to figure out who had made the most impact. It was clear the battle had been intense, and everyone had put in their effort.
Shinji, though, wasn't paying much attention to that. He shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze distant, thinking about the moments when everything had felt like it was slipping away from him. But he'd held on, and the team had won.
Finally, when All Might turned his gaze toward him with a smile that seemed a bit too wide, Shinji spoke up, his voice calm, almost detached. "I just did what was needed to win," he said simply, his tone making it clear that he wasn't interested in accolades. "It wasn't anything special. We both played our parts. Winning was the goal."
Momo looked at Shinji, surprised at his modesty. She'd seen the way he moved, the way he handled the situation. He had been the driving force behind their success, and yet he didn't seem to care for recognition.
All Might nodded approvingly, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "That's the spirit of a true hero, Shinji! It's not about glory, it's about doing what needs to be done, even when it's difficult."
Shinji shifted in his seat again, his gaze falling to the floor as he processed All Might's words. He wasn't sure he agreed entirely, but he understood the point. Sometimes it wasn't about being celebrated. It was about the quiet moments after the dust settled when you knew you had done what was necessary, no matter the cost.
"Good work," All Might added, clapping his hands together. "Now, let's talk about how we can all improve for next time!"
Shinji gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. As much as the whole thing had felt like a blur to him, he knew there was always room to grow. And for now, that was enough.
Shinji sat outside, his back against the cold concrete of the building, eyes staring blankly at the sky. The sounds of the ongoing match barely reached him; the echoes of battle faded as his mind wandered, retreating into places it didn't want to be. His right hand twitched uncontrollably, a familiar sign that the memories were creeping back.
He couldn't escape them. The feeling of the Breach was still fresh in his mind as if he could hear the roars of the monsters, see the shadows of the trees, and feel the crushing weight of survival closing in on him. The line between the mock battles and reality had started to blur again.
For a moment, he tried to calm his breathing, but it did little to help. His body remained tense, his thoughts scattered. Just focus, he told himself, but it was hard to drown out the voice in his head telling him he was still there, in that chaos.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for some kind of clarity. It's just a training exercise. You're here now. They're safe.
Shinji exhaled slowly, the twitching in his hand subsiding for the moment, but the restlessness remained. He pulled his knees up to his chest, leaning his forehead against them, just needing a second to breathe.
But the silence only made the memories louder.
He pressed his palms against his temples as if the pressure could somehow drown out the echoes. The roars, the screams, and the unrelenting thunder of battle all came rushing back, unbidden. Shinji clenched his jaw, the image of twisted metal and blood-soaked ground flashing behind his eyelids.
"It's not real," he muttered under his breath, his voice shaky but determined. "Not anymore."
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. He quickly lowered his legs, straightening up as Momo rounded the corner, her expression a mix of concern and hesitation.
"There you are," she said softly, stopping a few feet away. She glanced down at his twitching hand but didn't comment on it. "I noticed you left the observation room. Everything okay?"
Shinji forced a small, humorless laugh, running his left hand through his hair. "Yeah Just… needed some air."
Momo nodded, but her eyes lingered on him as if searching for something beneath his composed exterior. "You did well in the match," she said carefully. "Even All Might said so."
He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I just did what was needed to win. But I completely disregarded the point of it, it was a team trial but I did everything myself. What's the point of it if you didn't gain anything?
Momo shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how much to say, she wasn't close enough to fully understand him, but she did know the feeling of trying to measure up to an image others had of you. "I don't know you personally, but from what I've seen... you're a lot more than just your actions in the trials," she said, her voice soft but sincere. "It's easy to get caught up in the idea of winning or doing things on your own, but... I think you already know that's not the whole picture."
Shinji glanced at her then, the flicker of something in his eyes that he quickly masked. She didn't know him. She only knew what the world saw, the victories, the moments of glory. She couldn't possibly understand the weight of his own failures, the crushing fear of the past catching up to him.
"I guess," he said slowly, feeling the tension in his body begin to tighten again, "I just don't know how to not be the one in control, how to let anyone else handle things. It feels like... if I do, everything will fall apart."
Momo nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I can't say I know what that feels like," she admitted, a little awkwardly, "but... maybe it's okay to let go sometimes. You don't have to have everything figured out, and you don't have to do it alone. Even if it's hard to trust people, you don't have to carry everything by yourself."
Shinji wasn't sure how to respond, the words almost foreign to him. But for a brief moment, he let the silence between them fill with something other than his racing thoughts. Maybe there was something to her words, even if he wasn't ready to fully believe them.
Momo stood there for a moment longer, then gave him a small, tentative smile. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready," she said, her voice kind, but her distance still felt like a reminder of how little she truly knew him. "But I hope you know there are people who see you for more than just your actions in the trials."
Shinji nodded, though he wasn't sure if he truly believed that. Still, there was something in her words that made him feel, for just a second, like maybe he didn't have to carry all of this alone.
Momo stood there for a moment longer, her gaze lingering on Shinji as if she were waiting for him to say something more. But when he remained silent, she hesitated, unsure of whether she should push any further. Finally, after a brief pause, she offered a small, reassuring smile.
"Well, take care of yourself, Shinji," she said softly, turning to leave. "If you ever need someone to talk to..."
Shinji's chest tightened, the words she had said still echoing in his mind. If you ever need someone to talk to... The idea that someone might be willing to listen, to offer a connection he had spent so long avoiding, gnawed at him in ways he didn't want to admit. The flicker of hope her words sparked felt fragile, almost like something he couldn't afford to entertain.
As Momo's footsteps grew fainter, Shinji's frustration bubbled up, and before he could stop it, the anger surged. His hands clenched tightly into fists, his nails digging into his palms until it almost hurt. The memories from the Breach, the weight of all those battles and failures, mixed with the pressure of trying to keep up appearances, became too much to contain.
"She doesn't know anything about me," Shinji muttered under his breath, his voice low but filled with bitterness. "She doesn't know what it's like... what I've been through."
He slammed his fist against the concrete beside him, the sharp crack of his knuckles against the hard surface rattling through his bones. His breath came out in harsh gasps, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his emotions.
"She can't just leave," he spat, his voice shaky but filled with growing frustration. "She doesn't get to come in here, say a few kind words, and walk away like everything's fine. Like I'm fine! Like she can even begin to grasp what happened!"
The anger twisted inside him, rising up like an uncontrollable wave. His mind screamed at him, urging him to break something, to let out the chaos inside. The quiet, the calm, all of it only made the storm within him worse. The shadows of the past threatened to pull him under, and the more he fought it, the more the anger pushed to the surface.
"Dammit!" Shinji shouted, his voice cracking as he punched the concrete again, the sharp pain of his knuckles only adding fuel to the fire. His breath was ragged now, the adrenaline surging through him. "I can't-! I can't keep pretending to be... to be okay!"
For a moment, the world around him seemed to blur, the edges of his vision narrowing as he fought to control the surge of emotion. The bitterness, the frustration, and the loneliness all mixed together, leaving him feeling like he was drowning in his own rage.
Why does it always have to be like this? he thought, staring at the ground, his body trembling with the weight of his emotions. Why does everyone think they can understand?
Momo's departure had felt like the final blow. She didn't know him, didn't know the price he had paid for survival. She could never understand what it meant to be alone in that chaos, to carry the memories of the Breach that would never fade.
He took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the storm inside was far from calm.
The sky was painted in warm hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the quiet campus. Shinji remained outside his back against the cold wall of the building, hands resting on his knees. He had spent hours in that spot, the stillness of the evening doing little to ease the restlessness in his mind.
He barely noticed the sound of approaching footsteps until Aizawa's voice cut through the silence.
"Takeyama."
Shinji looked up, startled out of his thoughts. Aizawa stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets and his tired eyes fixed on him. The man's tone was calm but carried an edge of authority that left little room for argument.
"Class has been over for a while now," Aizawa said, his voice steady. "Nezu wants to see you. It's about what happened in the training room yesterday."
Shinji's heart sank at the mention of yesterday. His mind flashed back to the empty training room, the raw intensity of his actions, and the feeling of losing himself in the chaos. He quickly averted his gaze, his voice defensive. "What about it? I was just practicing."
Aizawa stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "Practicing doesn't usually result in the kind of damage you left behind, Takeyama," he said evenly. "Nezu has questions, and you need to answer them."
Shinji frowned, his fists clenching. "It's not like I hurt anyone," he muttered. "It was just me."
"That's exactly why we're concerned," Aizawa replied. "You weren't sparring with anyone, but the intensity of your actions suggests otherwise. Nezu wants to understand what happened, and so do I."
For a moment, Shinji considered refusing, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Reluctantly, he pushed himself to his feet, brushing the dust off his pants. "Fine," he muttered, his voice low. "Let's get this over with."
The walk to Nezu's office was silent, the quiet tension between them growing heavier with each step. Shinji kept his gaze forward, his mind racing with thoughts of yesterday. He hadn't meant for things to get out of hand, but something inside him had snapped, and he'd lost control.
When they reached the office, Aizawa stopped and turned to face him. "Whatever's on your mind, don't hold it in," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "Nezu isn't here to punish you. He just wants to know the truth."
Shinji nodded stiffly, unsure if he believed those words.
Aizawa opened the door, and Shinji stepped inside, his eyes immediately landing on Nezu, who sat calmly at his desk. The small, animal-like principal looked up with his usual pleasant expression, though his eyes held a sharpness that told Shinji this was no casual meeting.
"Ah, Takeyama," Nezu greeted him warmly, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat. We need to talk about what happened in the training room yesterday."
Shinji hesitated but finally sat down, his posture tense as he met Nezu's curious gaze.
"I've reviewed the recordings of your session," Nezu began, his tone calm but probing. "The level of force and aggression you displayed was... unusual, especially for a solo practice session. I'd like to understand what was going through your mind."
Shinji's jaw tightened, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure how to put his feelings into words. "I just… needed to let off some steam," he said quietly, avoiding Nezu's gaze. "That's all."
Nezu tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Letting off steam is one thing, but this went beyond that. The damage to the equipment, the relentless nature of your attacks—it seemed as though you were fighting something that wasn't there. Or perhaps... someone?"
Shinji's fists clenched at his sides, his mind flashing back to the Breach, to the monsters and the chaos. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't speak.
"This isn't a reprimand," Nezu said gently, his voice breaking through Shinji's thoughts. "But I need to understand. Are you carrying something that we should know about? Something that's affecting your performance, and your well-being?"
Shinji's shoulders stiffened, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He glanced at Aizawa, who stood silently by the door, his eyes steady and watchful.
For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Nezu's words hanging in the air. Shinji took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He wasn't sure how much he was ready to reveal, but he knew he couldn't avoid the truth forever.
Shinji's voice was low and sharp as he spoke, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. "It was nothing. Some kid said something stupid, and I got angry. That's all it was."
Nezu tilted his head slightly, his expression remaining calm but his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if he were dissecting Shinji's words. "I see," Nezu said softly, his tone unreadable. "And yet, your reaction didn't appear to be proportional to the situation. Words, no matter how sharp, typically don't result in such... destruction."
Shinji's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I said it was nothing," he snapped, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes. "Why does it matter so much anyway? I didn't hurt anyone."
Aizawa's voice cut through the tension, calm but firm. "It matters because this isn't the first time you've shown signs of losing control, Takeyama. If something's bothering you, you need to address it before it becomes a problem you can't handle."
Shinji glared at the floor, his frustration mounting. He wanted to shout, to tell them to stop prying, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Instead, he took a shaky breath, forcing himself to calm down.
Nezu leaned forward slightly, his small paws resting on the desk. "Shinji, no one here is trying to judge you. But your behavior in the training room suggests there's something deeper going on. It's not about punishment—it's about understanding. If we can help, we need to know how."
Shinji looked away, his throat tightening as he struggled to find the right words. He hated the way Nezu's calmness seemed to strip away his defenses, leaving him vulnerable. After a long pause, he muttered, "I just lost my temper, okay? That's all there is to it."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Shinji's words hanging in the air.
Aizawa exchanged a glance with Nezu before speaking again, his tone softer. "You're not doing yourself any favors by bottling this up. Think about what we're saying. When you're ready to talk, we'll be here."
Aizawa exchanged a glance with Nezu before speaking again, his tone softer but still firm. "You're not doing yourself any favors by keeping this bottled up. Think about what we're saying. When you're ready to be honest, we'll be here to listen."
Shinji shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his voice defensive but steady. "That's all there is to it. Mineta said something really, really stupid, and I lost it. I promise that's all that happened."
Aizawa's sharp eyes narrowed slightly as if he were trying to read between the lines of Shinji's words. Nezu leaned forward, his paws resting lightly on the desk, and spoke in a calm, measured tone. "If that's truly the case, then we'll take your word for it, for now. But, Shinji, anger like that doesn't usually come out of nowhere. If something else is going on, you should consider addressing it before it escalates further."
Shinji glanced away, his jaw tightening. "I'm fine," he muttered, the words clipped. "It won't happen again."
Aizawa's expression remained neutral, but his voice carried a hint of finality. "Make sure it doesn't. The consequences next time might not be so easily contained."
Nezu offered a small, understanding nod. "You're dismissed, for now, Shinji. But do reflect on what we've said. The path to being a great hero isn't just about physical strength, it's about emotional resilience too. You can't ignore what's beneath the surface forever."
Shinji said nothing as he stood, his shoulders stiff, fists clenched at his sides. The words from both Nezu and Aizawa echoed in his mind, but he refused to let them sink in. He didn't need their advice. He didn't need anyone's help.
"Understood," he muttered, his voice flat. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked out of the office, letting the door click shut behind him.
The hallway was quiet, save for the faint hum of the building's systems. Shinji's footsteps echoed as he made his way toward the exit, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and resentment. Their words dug at him more than he wanted to admit, stirring emotions he had no interest in confronting.
As he stepped outside into the crisp air, Shinji paused. He clenched his left fist tighter, his nails biting into his palm. His right hand twitched faintly, almost mockingly, but he ignored it. He didn't need their pity. He didn't need their lectures. He had survived on his own before, and he could do it again.
But no matter how much he told himself otherwise, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of his mind. Their words, unwelcome as they were, had struck a chord. The anger he'd unleashed in the training room hadn't just come from Mineta's comment, it had come from something deeper, something he wasn't ready to confront. The comment had merely been the key to unlock a door he'd worked so hard to keep shut, and now that it was open, it refused to close.
Shinji exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to scatter the thoughts clawing at the edges of his mind. He didn't have time for this. He couldn't afford to dwell on the past, couldn't afford to let his emotions spiral out of control. He needed to focus, to keep moving forward.
They're wrong, he told himself. I've got this under control. I always have.
But as he walked toward the dorms, his steps heavy, his mind betrayed him. Memories he had buried clawed their way to the surface, flashes of chaos, the suffocating weight of isolation, the Breach. His breathing hitched as his chest tightened, his pace quickening as though he could outrun the ghosts that chased him.
The cold air stung his skin, but it did little to ground him. His left hand remained clenched, the sharp sting of his nails digging into his palm serving as a faint anchor to reality. His right hand remained useless, twitching faintly, a reminder of all the things he couldn't control. He needed to pull himself together. If anyone saw him like this… if anyone realized just how close he was to the edge…
He stopped abruptly, leaning against a lamppost, his forehead resting against the cold metal. His breaths came in short, uneven bursts as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the storm inside him to calm.
After a moment, he straightened, forcing himself to take a deep, steadying breath. He couldn't fall apart now. Not here. Not in front of them.
With renewed determination, Shinji pushed off the lamppost and made his way to the dorms, his expression set in stone. Whatever was beneath the surface, whatever door had been unlocked, he'd deal with it, on his own terms, in his own time.
It had worked for three years. It would work now.