The halls of U.A. were quieter than usual. The aftermath of the USJ attack had left a lingering weight over everything, and even though the immediate crisis had passed, the scars—both physical and mental—remained. The usual banter, the laughter, the buzzing energy of students dreaming of becoming Pro Heroes—it had all dulled to a hushed murmur. The weight of the USJ attack still lingered, casting a shadow over everyone.
Kirishima walked slowly through the corridors, his bandaged arms still throbbing from Recovery Girl's treatment. His body had been pushed beyond its limits.
His Quirk, his so-called 'Unbreakable' body, had nearly been broken. He had nearly died. And yet, none of that compared to the thoughts swirling in his head.
He was alive because of All Might. Because of luck. Because he hadn't been strong enough.
Kirishima sat on one of the couches, staring at his bandaged hands. He had healed well enough, but the aches in his arms weren't what bothered him. It was the doubt, the questions he couldn't shake.
The memory of Shigaraki's fingers grazing his skin sent an involuntary shudder through him. If he had been just a second slower… No. He didn't want to think about it. He clenched his fists, trying to push it down.
Was the hero system truly strong enough to protect people?
If even All Might, the Symbol of Peace, had struggled, what did that mean for the rest of them? What did that mean for the future?
"Yo, Kirishima!"
He blinked, looking up to see Kaminari and Sero standing nearby. Their expressions weren't their usual carefree grins. Even they were shaken.
"Hey," Kaminari said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You holding up alright?"
Kirishima forced a small smile. "Yeah, man. Just… thinking."
Sero flopped onto the couch beside him. "Yeah. Same. Hard not to, after what happened." His voice lowered, his gaze distant. "I mean… we could've died."
Kirishima clenched his fists. "Yeah."
There was a brief silence before Kaminari sat down across from them, leaning forward. "Is it just me, or… does something feel off?"
Kirishima frowned. "What do you mean?"
Kaminari hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "I dunno, man. Just… everything. The way those villains just knew where to find us. The way All Might was barely able to stop them. Like—" He faltered, struggling to find the right words. "Like maybe we're not as safe as we thought we were."
That struck something deep inside Kirishima.
He had believed in U.A. In Pro Heroes. In the system. He had believed that as long as he trained hard, as long as he pushed himself, he would one day be strong enough to protect people.
But what if that wasn't true? What if there was something fundamentally broken about how heroes operated?
Sero exhaled. "Man, I don't wanna be that guy, but... If even All Might was struggling, then what the hell are we supposed to do?"
No one answered.
Kirishima's thoughts swirled. His fight with Shigaraki had proven one thing—strength alone wouldn't be enough. But strategy, tactics, and planning… Were they really enough either?
And then there was the fear.
Kirishima had felt it. That moment when Shigaraki had targeted him, not as an obstacle, but as prey. In that moment, he hadn't felt like a hero. He had felt like a kid who was about to die.
Was that what being a hero really meant?
Before he could spiral any further, another voice cut in.
"You're all thinking too much."
Kirishima turned to see Bakugo standing nearby, arms crossed, his usual scowl in place. But there was something different in his eyes. A flicker of something uncertain—though he would never admit it.
"Tch. You idiots are acting like this is some big revelation," Bakugo scoffed, stepping closer. "Of course heroes aren't invincible. Of course we could've died. That's what it means to be in this world. So what? You scared now?"
Kaminari bristled. "That's not what we're saying."
Bakugo snorted. "Then quit whining and get stronger."
Kirishima frowned, meeting his gaze. "And if stronger isn't enough?"
Bakugo hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second. But Kirishima caught it.
"…Then we get stronger again," Bakugo muttered, turning away. "And again. Until nothing can stop us."
The conversation ended there, but Kirishima knew the question hadn't gone away.
Was strength really all there was to it?
Could heroes really maintain order when villains like Shigaraki existed? When people were willing to kill to tear everything down?
Or… was there another way?
Kirishima didn't have an answer.
But he knew he had to find one.
Before Bakugo could continue, a new voice cut through the hallway.
"You should be resting."
The boys turned to see Aizawa, his arm in a sling, his face still covered in bandages. His usual tired expression was even heavier than normal. He eyed them both, but his gaze lingered on Kirishima.
"You put yourself in unnecessary danger," Aizawa said flatly. "You should have focused on survival, not fighting an opponent beyond your capability."
Kirishima stiffened. He wanted to argue, to say that he hadn't had a choice—but the words stuck in his throat. Because… deep down, he knew Aizawa was right.
"I just… I wanted to help," Kirishima muttered, looking down.
Aizawa sighed. "I know. But throwing yourself at an enemy without a plan isn't heroism. It's recklessness. You're strong, Kirishima, but strength alone won't save you." His gaze sharpened. "You need to think. To adapt. To know when to fight and when to wait."
Kirishima swallowed hard. He had never thought about it that way. He had always believed that being a hero meant standing in front of danger, taking the hits, being unbreakable. But now… now he wasn't so sure.
Aizawa's expression softened just a little. "You have potential. Don't waste it by acting without strategy."
Kirishima nodded slowly. "I understand, Sensei."
Aizawa gave a small nod before turning away. "Rest up. We have a long road ahead." And with that, he walked off down the hall.
Kirishima exhaled, his shoulders feeling heavier than before. He looked at Midoriya, who gave him a small, understanding nod.
"You're not alone in this," The boys said quietly.
Kirishima glanced down at his bandaged hands, then back at Bakugo. And for the first time since the battle, he allowed himself to really think. About what kind of hero he wanted to be. About whether the world they were trying to protect was one that could truly be saved.
And, more importantly, about whether or not he was strong enough to do it.