MHA: Echoes of the Breach

AN: so Shinji is not having a good time, I talked to my medic Friend to get this as realistic as possible while also making it read well, and factoring in anime logic. Hopefully, it turned out good. Also sorry about the delay for this chapter, somebody hit a power line yesterday, so I wasn't able to finish it.

As Always, I hope you enjoy and review/comment

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Shinji scanned the battlefield, his exposed eye sharp and unyielding. His visor had been shattered, but that didn't matter. The fight wasn't over until he said it was.

His feet scraped against the concrete as he stepped forward, his body still humming with tension. He moved with purpose, checking the fallen villains strewn across the battlefield. Some groaned in pain, others lay completely unconscious. None of them were getting back up. Not now. Not after everything.

The Nomu remained still.

Shinji turned toward it, watching for any twitch, any flicker of movement. Nothing. It stood there, like a mindless husk without a purpose, its grotesque form frozen in place. Whatever command had been controlling it was gone. For now.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders before glancing around. The destruction was immense, craters, shattered pavement, the entire area scarred with the aftermath of battle. Then, movement.

Midoriya was the first to approach, still catching his breath. His uniform was torn, bruises already forming along his arms, but his eyes were wide, filled with barely-contained relief. "Takeyama! Are you-" He hesitated, taking in the state of his classmate. The ruined visor, the jagged tears, the way his fingers still twitched like they were ready to strike again. "Are you okay?"

Shinji managed a smile, half-hidden by the remains of his shattered visor. It wasn't reassuring. It wasn't meant to be. His fingers flexed once before finally stilling, the adrenaline still coursing through his system, his body still ready, even though the battle was over.

"I'm fine," he said, though the words felt hollow.

Midoriya didn't seem convinced, his eyes scanning Shinji's form, the torn armor, the exposed flesh where Striker's plating had been ripped away. The damage was extensive, yet Shinji stood like none of it mattered. Like none of it even hurt.

Todoroki approached next, his gaze flicking between Shinji and the motionless Nomu. He was calm, and collected, but there was an edge of something else beneath his usual stoicism. "You kept going," he said, more a statement than a question.

Shinji exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Of course I did."

Bakugo scoffed, stepping closer with an irritated glare. "The hell is that thing's deal?" He gestured to the Nomu, still frozen in place, unmoving, lifeless without its master's command. "It was tearing through everything, and now it's just standing there like a broken toy?"

Shinji didn't look at the Nomu. He didn't need to. He could feel it. A presence without a will. A beast without orders.

"They left it behind," he muttered, voice quieter now, though no less sharp. "Without Shigaraki… it has nothing to do."

The weight of that realization settled over the group. Even though the battle was over, even though they had won this fight, the enemy had still walked away, and if not for Shinji, if not for the way he had pushed himself past every limit, would they have still been standing here now?

"Takeyama! Oh my god, are you okay?!"

Mina's voice hit like a jolt to the system, her sheer panic cutting through the static hum in Shinji's mind. She practically skidded to a stop in front of him, hands hovering in the air, her face twisted in complete and utter freakout mode.

Her wide, frantic eyes darted over him, taking in the wreckage that was his armor, what was left of his visor barely clinging to his helmet, the exposed flesh where his suit had been torn away, the burns, the gashes, the streaks of acid-burnt metal and skin.

"You look wrecked! Holy crap, your visor, your chest, and-" Her voice cracked when she finally saw the worst of it. The bruises that had already turned deep shades of purple, the slashes still oozing blood, the dents in his armor where the Nomu's fists had connected.

"What the hell?! Why aren't you screaming in pain right now?!"

Before he could answer, another voice cut in.

"Ashido's right."

Midoriya stepped up beside her, panting slightly, his own uniform torn and stained with dirt and sweat. His eyes were filled with something between awe and alarm as he took in the sight of him. The aftermath.

"That thing hit you so hard you made a crater, Takeyama," Mina added.

And yet, he felt… fine.

Shinji blinked, trying to piece together his own thoughts. "Oh," he said, as if just now registering it.

"Oh?!" Mina's voice shot up in disbelief. "Oh?! That's all you have to say?! Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

Before she could start shaking him, another voice scoffed.

"Tch. What a damn idiot."

It was Bakugo, standing a short distance away, arms crossed, his costume in disarray. His eyes weren't mocking, though, they were sharp, scrutinizing, calculating.

"You do realize you're walking around with half your armor missing, right?" Bakugo gestured vaguely at him, eyes narrowing as if inspecting some kind of defect. "And you're not even wincing."

Shinji exhaled slowly, trying to keep his tone casual. "I don't feel it."

The words made everyone freeze.

Mina's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. "Wait, what? You don't feel it?"

"Nope," Shinji replied, popping the "p" with a casual air. He glanced down at himself, his fingers flexing slightly, feeling the disorienting pull of his muscles, his joints. His body should be wracked with pain, he should be crumpled over, gasping for air, struggling to stay upright. Instead, his movements were fluid, his thoughts clear.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. "You're saying you took all that damage, got slammed into the ground hard enough to leave a damn crater, and you don't feel a thing?"

Shinji nodded, but inside, there was a different truth pulling at him. His mind raced, but the pain that should be there... wasn't.

It wasn't that he didn't feel anything. He could still sense the sting of the Nomu's acidic blood on his skin, the crack of his bones, and the jagged edges of his fractured visor. It was just dulled, muted beyond reason. Almost like everything he was going through was... submerged under a layer of fog. The Specter's lingering influence was still pressing against him, holding the worst of the damage back.

"THAT'S NOT NORMAL!"

Mina's exasperated shout broke through his thoughts. "What are you, a cyborg?! No normal person just shrugs off getting their head punched in like that! Your visor is literally missing half of itself, and I know you got acid-burned because I saw that thing's blood sizzling on you! And you're just standing here like it's a minor inconvenience?!"

Shinji blinked, pretending the outburst didn't bother him, even as his heart raced. He wasn't lying to them, not exactly. He just wasn't showing the full extent of how his body was trying to scream at him.

"I'm tougher than I look," he said with a light shrug.

"Oh my god, I hate you," Mina groaned, pressing her hands to her temples, clearly beyond frustrated.

Midoriya still looked thrown, his brow furrowed as he processed what was happening. His eyes darted between Shinji and his wrecked armor before his voice became more tentative. "Is it… some kind of secondary Quirk effect?"

Shinji shrugged. "Maybe."

Bakugo scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Or maybe this dumbass just got hit in the head so hard he broke something upstairs."

Shinji tilted his head, trying to keep the mood light, his fingers flexing as if testing the limits of his own body. "Hey, you bent a lamppost with your body, and Midoriya's still standing on a broken leg. I think I'm doing just fine."

Mina shot him a glare. "That's not funny, Shinji."

Midoriya looked concerned, but his eyes flickered briefly to the ground before he gave a small, strained grin. "Well... I guess that's one way to look at it..."

Bakugo didn't seem amused. "Tch. So now you're trying to make it sound like you're fine, huh? Don't make me laugh. You're full of holes, and the only thing that's holding you together is that damn suit."

Shinji smiled thinly, letting the lie slip through his teeth. "I'm fine. Seriously, just a little banged up."

But there was a noticeable pause as he shifted uncomfortably, the truth eating at him beneath the façade. The battle had been too much, and yet... he couldn't let them see the full extent of it. He couldn't let them know how much damage he had actually taken.

Mina's brow furrowed, her expression softening with concern. "You're lying."

Shinji kept his eyes forward, not meeting her gaze. He didn't want to see the worry in her eyes, the pity. He didn't need that.

Shinji shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the group of concerned faces. He could feel the weight of their gazes, the questions and worries pressing in on him like a vice. He couldn't let them see just how bad it really was, not yet hopefully ever but he wasn't that naive.

"We won, that's what matters, right?" he deflected, shifting back on his heels, trying to regain some control over the situation. "Let's focus on that."

Mina wasn't buying it, though. Her eyes narrowed as she took a step forward. "Then take it off. Disable it, or however, you do it. Get out of the armor, Takeyama."

Shinji opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, the sound of footsteps approaching broke through the tension. A few Classmates from the rest of 1-A started arriving, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

"Is everything okay here?" Aoyama called out, his eyes widening at the sight of Shinji's damaged form.

"Well, You've got a few craters to explain," Kaminari said, blinking at the destruction around them. "What happened here?"

Shinji's tone was a mix of exhaustion and dry humor as he shifted his gaze to Kaminari. "Oh, you're out of your... stupid state." His words were biting, but there was no malice behind them, it was just a statement.

Kaminari shot him a look, still processing the earlier exchange, but Shinji wasn't finished. He quickly moved on, trying to redirect the conversation. "Are Yayorozu and Jirou with you?"

Kaminari blinked, clearly trying to keep up. "Uh, yeah, they're coming. They're just a little behind. Why?"

Shinji just nodded, his gaze drifting momentarily toward the wreckage of the battle, the remnants of the Nomu standing lifeless, yet still unnervingly present. He didn't want to look like he was dodging anything too directly, but the truth was, the less focus there was on him right now, the better.

"I feel like that's pretty obvious," Shinji muttered, his voice strained but steady. "The sooner we get everyone back, the sooner we get out of here." His gaze flickered past Kaminari, locking onto the approaching figures of Yaoyorozu and Jirou.

Kaminari scratched the back of his head, still processing everything. "Right, right... Guess we're all kind of a mess right now." He glanced at Shinji's armor, half-destroyed and barely hanging on before his eyes darted over to the still form of the Nomu. "You guys really did a number on this place."

Shinji offered him a nonchalant shrug. "It wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but you know... we did what we had to do." He glanced at the others now beginning to regroup, keeping his posture relaxed, doing his best to avoid drawing any more attention to himself.

Mina stepped forward, her tone slightly more gentle now. "You need to get out of that armor, though. I know it's tough, but it's not worth it if you can't even move in it, right?"

Shinji nodded absently, trying to look like he was focusing on the others coming toward them. "I'll get to it soon enough... just want to make sure everything is taken care of."

Shinji's mind was still a tangled mess, the specter's voice like a gnawing whisper at the back of his thoughts. "I know you like to play hero but you're running out of time. My little… gift does have a time limit."

His pulse quickened as the weight of those words settled in, a creeping unease creeping through him. He could feel the numbness in his body, that strange absence of pain, and it was all he could do to hold it together. If anyone noticed how off he was, how much the damage was stacking up, it would only raise more questions. And that was the last thing he needed right now.

He forced the discomfort aside and, with a measured breath, addressed the group.

"Let's go to the top of the stairs," Shinji said, his voice calm but with a steely edge to it. "It'll be easier to see what's going on from up there. And we'll have a better vantage point in case things escalate again."

The others nodded, and with a quick glance over his shoulder, Shinji began to move toward the stairs, leading the group. His boots echoed against the floor as they ascended, each step a reminder of how much he was pushing himself. His fingers flexed restlessly, the weight of his armor still a reminder of how much damage he'd taken. But there was no time to dwell on it now.

As they reached the top, Shinji's eyes scanned the battlefield below, watching for any signs of movement, any new threats. The battle was winding down, but the remnants of chaos still lingered in the air.

And just as they reached the top of the stairs, a voice rang out from below, booming through the tense silence.

"I AM HERE!" All Might's voice boomed, but unlike his usual cheerful declaration, there was no trademark grin to be seen. His expression was strained, his eyes narrowed as he took in the damage around him. The sight of the wreckage, the unmoving Nomu, and the battered students made it clear that something had gone horribly wrong.

Shinji, though, didn't take the moment to relax. He continued scanning, his attention shifting to the others as they caught sight of the Symbol of Peace. While some of them visibly relaxed, Shinji's mind was still racing, still haunted by the specter's warning. He kept his posture casual, though, trying not to show how tightly wound he really was.

All Might's eyes swept over the group, landing on Shinji last. "You…Young Takeyama. Are you injured?" The concern in his voice was palpable, even though his face remained unreadable.

Shinji, still trying to downplay the extent of his own injuries, straightened a little, despite the dull ache still crawling under his skin. "Nothing serious, sir," he said, keeping his tone light, though his sharp eyes flickered toward the Nomu. "But watch that thing." He pointed towards the creature with a hard expression. "It took down Mr. Aizawa, and it's a monster in every sense of the word."

Shinji's eyes flicked between All Might and the still form of the Nomu. He felt a lingering unease. "It seems to be docile for now," he said, his voice steady but cautious. "The main villains escaped, leaving it behind. I don't think it has the capacity to function on its own, but I'd rather not risk it."

All Might's expression hardened as he took in Shinji's words. His sharp gaze swept over the group, lingering on their torn uniforms, bruises, and the exhaustion lining their faces. Despite everything, they were still standing. Still ready to fight.

"No," he said firmly. "You've done enough. I'll handle finding the others." His voice left no room for argument, the authority in it absolute. "Stay here and wait for the other heroes to arrive. You've fought hard, but you need to rest. You've earned that much."

Shinji didn't argue, though his hands clenched at his sides. Every instinct told him they should be doing more, that they should be the ones making sure their classmates were safe. But All Might was here now, and despite everything, there was no one better suited for the job.

All Might nodded once, then turned on his heel. And in an instant, he was gone, leaping into the chaos beyond with the force of a storm, his golden presence vanishing into the smoke and destruction.

Silence lingered in his absence, the weight of everything settling over them. Shinji exhaled slowly, turning back toward the others.

"We're staying put," he reminded them, his voice quiet but firm. "We wait for the other heroes."

No one argued, though Mina crossed her arms, clearly still uneasy. "Yeah, yeah. It just feels wrong sitting around after all that."

Before anyone could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from below. Moments later, Tsuyu and Mineta appeared at the top of the stairs, their faces drawn with exhaustion.

"There you guys are," Midoriya breathed, relief washing over his features.

"We're fine," Tsuyu said, her voice steady as ever, though there was an edge of fatigue to it. "I take it the villains ran off?"

"Yeah," Bakugo muttered, his voice tight with frustration. "Cowards bolted before we could finish the job."

Mineta, still jittery, glanced around nervously. "And we're sure that thing isn't going to attack again, right?" He pointed toward the Nomu's still form below.

"Not yet," Shinji said, though he wasn't about to let his guard down just yet.

Another set of footsteps approached from behind, and Kirishima arrived, slightly winded but mostly unharmed. "Man, you guys look like hell," he said with a tired grin before his expression turned serious. "What now?"

Shinji glanced around at the group, scanning each of them. Some were still shaken, some holding onto that last shred of adrenaline, but all of them were still here. Still standing.

"Now," he said, exhaling slowly, "we wait."

The tension in the air was thick, but the worst of the fight was over. Now, all they had left was the waiting.

Mina let out a groan, running her hands through her hair. "Ugh, I hate this part. Just standing around when we could be, I don't know, helping somehow."

"We did help," Jirou pointed out, crossing her arms. "We fought, we survived, and now we're following orders. Just let the pros handle the rest."

Mina shot her a look but didn't argue.

Midoriya, still deep in thought, glanced toward Shinji. His brows furrowed. "You really don't feel anything?"

Shinji barely let a pause settle before shaking his head. "I'm fine." The words left his mouth automatically. He wasn't about to let them dig into it further.

Midoriya didn't look convinced, but before he could press the issue, Kirishima clapped a hand on Shinji's shoulder. "Dude, you took a beating. I saw the ending of that fight, that was insane. You're still standing like it was nothing?"

Shinji forced a small, casual shrug. "I'm tougher than I look." He saw Mina twitch out of the corner of his eye.

"Okay, no. I'm sorry, but that's bull," she shot back, hands on her hips. "I get the whole 'tough guy' act, but can we not pretend like you didn't just get knocked halfway to hell?"

"Could be worse," Shinji deflected smoothly. "I could be Midoriya."

"Hey!" Midoriya protested, flinching as he shifted his injured leg.

"He's got a point, though," Kaminari laughed weakly. "Dude, you're a walking injury."

"I am not, " Midoriya started, only to be immediately met with several unimpressed stares. He sighed. "Okay, maybe a little."

Kirishima grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, at least we all made it through. That's what counts."

"That and the fact that the villains got away," Bakugo muttered darkly, his arms crossed, his eyes still locked on the wreckage below. "We should've ended it."

Momo, who had been mostly quiet, finally spoke. "We don't know their full plan. If they left that… thing behind, it's possible they never intended to win outright. This could have been a test."

That thought made everyone pause.

"They knew the pros would be coming," Jirou added. "If they had more forces, they would've sent them. This wasn't about wiping us out."

"They wanted All Might," Midoriya finished, his voice even. "And they didn't get him."

"Which means they'll probably try again," Shinji murmured.

Another silence settled over them, this time heavier. The realization of it all sank in, this wasn't over.

Kirishima cleared his throat, trying to shift the mood. "Well, when they do, we'll be ready."

"The pros will be. Not us," Momo corrected firmly, her arms crossed. "We were lucky this time. We're still students. If All Might hadn't shown up when he did…" She trailed off, the unspoken weight of what could've happened settling over them.

Kirishima frowned but didn't argue.

"We still did our part," Jirou pointed out. "We fought, we survived, and we held our ground."

"And nearly got turned into paste," Mina muttered, side-eyeing Shinji.

"Still standing," Shinji replied easily, but there was no humor in his voice.

Bakugo scoffed, his patience finally wearing thin. "You aren't fooling anyone, dumbass. We all know you're hiding your injuries." His crimson eyes burned with frustration as he jabbed a finger toward Shinji. "You can act all cool and pretend you're fine, but when the pros get here, then we're all gonna see."

Shinji met his glare without flinching. "That's fine," he said evenly. "I'll deal with it then."

Bakugo's eye twitched, clearly unsatisfied with the response, but before he could fire back, Kaminari stepped in with an uneasy chuckle. "Uh, maybe we should all just take a breath? Y'know, focus on the fact that we're alive?"

The battlefield was still, the dust finally settling, but the weight of what had just happened lingered. Momo's voice broke the silence, careful, measured. "Are you sure you're okay, Takeyama?" She searched his face, wary, like she was afraid of what she might find. "Back in the mountain zone… something was wrong. You hesitated before you went for that thing."

Shinji exhaled, his posture steady, unreadable. "I handled it."

Momo's frown deepened. "That's not an answer."

His gaze flickered toward her, then past her, settling on nothing in particular. "You ever wonder what it's like?"

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

Shinji's voice was quiet, but there was a weight behind it. "Losing track of what's real."

A hush settled over the group.

"It sneaks up on you," he continued, his tone level, but his fingers twitched slightly. "One second, everything makes sense. You know where you are, what you're doing. The next… it shifts. The air feels off. The sounds aren't right. And suddenly, you're back somewhere you swore you'd never be again." He let out a slow breath. "That's what happened when we got pulled through. For a second, it wasn't this fight anymore. It was something else."

The tension in the air thickened.

Momo's expression tightened. "Then why, "

"What else was I supposed to do?" Shinji cut in, shrugging. "Just stand there?"

"That's not the point," Midoriya interjected, shaking his head. "You were dealing with something none of us even realized, and you just acted like it wasn't happening. Like it didn't matter." He hesitated, his frown deepening. "That's not normal, Shinji."

Kaminari shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think he cares what's normal."

Bakugo's scowl was immediate. "Don't give me that crap." His fists clenched. "Yeah, I yell, I fight, I push people, but I don't pretend nothing gets to me."

Shinji barely moved, his gaze cool. "That's rich, coming from you."

Bakugo stepped forward, eyes sharp. "I don't ignore what happens to me. I don't pretend I'm fine when I'm not." His voice was edged with frustration. "I deal with it. I get stronger from it. You? You act like none of it matters. Like you don't even have the right to let it matter."

A heavy silence followed. Shinji held his gaze, unreadable.

Then, he let out a slow breath. "I can't argue that," he admitted, his voice steady but laced with something quieter. "But you've got it wrong." His fingers curled slightly at his sides. "I don't act like I'm untouchable."

His voice dropped just a fraction. "Trust me… I know better than anyone that I'm not."

The weight of his words settled over them like an unspoken truth, one none of them quite knew how to respond to.

Bakugo's scowl faltered, just for a second, before he crossed his arms and scoffed. "Then quit acting like you're just gonna keep walking through hell and coming out the other side without a damn scratch."

The words lingered in the air between them, heavy and unshakable.

Momo shifted uncomfortably, exchanging a glance with Jirou, while Kaminari let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Midoriya looked like he wanted to say something, but for once, even he hesitated.

Finally, it was Kirishima who broke the silence. "So… what now?" His voice was softer than usual, lacking its usual unwavering confidence.

Shinji rolled his shoulders slightly, the tension still clinging to him. "Same as before," He exhaled. "We wait for-" Shinji's eyes widened in alarm, his breath hitching sharply as the pain intensified. The dull, distant ache he'd been pushing aside was rapidly becoming something much more tangible, every breath pulling him deeper into the grip of it. He felt his knees threaten to buckle beneath him, the weight of it all finally seeping through the cracks in his defense.

Shinji's body trembled as he finally collapsed to his knees, his hand instinctively coming up to brace himself. A sharp cough tore through him, followed by a splatter of blood that stained strikers hands and the ground beneath him. His vision blurred, the edges of the world spinning as the pain surged through him, relentless and all-encompassing.

"Takeyama!" Momo's voice was high with alarm as she rushed forward, her eyes wide with fear. She crouched beside him, her hands hovering uncertainly.

Bakugo gritted his teeth, but there was no anger in his gaze now, only frustration and concern, emotions he rarely allowed to show. "You idiot," he growled, his voice thick with annoyance but laced with something softer. "Why the hell didn't you say anything sooner?"

"Hey, you wanted to see the scratch," Shinji started, his voice cracking, but before he could finish, his stomach churned violently. He didn't have time to stop it; the bile surged up his throat, and he gasped, bending forward as it came out in a dark, sickening rush. Blood mixed with the bile, staining the ground beneath him in crimson streaks.

Shinji's vision blurred, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. The bitter taste lingered in his mouth, his body trembling as it fought to expel the contents of his stomach.

He wiped his mouth with a shaking hand, barely able to process what was happening. "Was it supposed to be that red?" he muttered weakly, voice hoarse. The blood was too much, too vibrant, too real, and it only made the pain inside him worse.

"I wasn't lying," Shinji continued, forcing the words out through a cracked breath. "I didn't feel it then." He looked up, trying to give them a grin, but it was weak, more of a grimace than anything. "Guess my body's catching up now."

Momo was the first to react, kneeling beside him, her face pale as she reached out to help him steady himself. "Takeyama, this isn't just exhaustion. You need help, right now."

"I'm fine," Shinji muttered, trying to push her away, but his movements were sluggish, uncoordinated. "I just need a minute... just a second…" But the words were hollow, and even as he said them, he knew they were lies.

Kaminari's usual playful energy was gone, replaced by concern. "Takeyama, man… we need to get you help, like now."

Shinji's eyes flickered to him for a brief moment, but the strain of keeping his focus was starting to take its toll. His vision doubled, and his ears rang, muffling the voices around him.

"I'm fine… just…" His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. "Just need a second to…"

Shinji opened his mouth to respond, but another wave of nausea hit him, followed by another round of painful, bloodied vomit.

He couldn't even keep himself upright anymore, his body betraying him in front of his classmates, forcing him to stay on all fours, head hung low.

"Shinji," Momo said urgently, her voice breaking with concern. "You need to get out of the armor now!"

Shinji's head lulled slightly, his eyes still unfocused, but he managed to give her a weak grin. "Hey…" His voice was barely above a whisper. "Miss Prim and Proper said my first name... I didn't think we were that close." There was a shaky humor to his words, though it was strained and weak.

Before Momo could respond, Striker's armor around him began to dissolve, the metal and plates crumbling away like ash in the wind. It happened slowly at first, then faster, the armor's systems working against the rising disarray in Shinji's body. The once-solid suit melted off of him, fading into nothingness until all that was left was his tattered, bloodied uniform.

He swayed slightly, the transition from armor to nothingness making him feel more exposed than ever. The sensation of being fully vulnerable, with no shield or support from the armor, only made the cold, gnawing pain surge again.

Shinji's chest heaved, and his vision doubled, but he could barely muster the strength to move, feeling every ounce of his body protesting. He'd been running on fumes for so long, and now it was catching up with him all at once.

"Oh my god, is that his spine?!" Mina's voice cracked in horror, her words slicing through the air like a knife.

Shinji barely had the strength to respond, but he heard Ochako's voice next, sharp and full of panic. "Why are his legs that color?"

There was a long, heavy silence after that, stretching unbearably before a sickening sound broke through, the wet, choking retch of Ochako gagging. Then came the unmistakable sound of her vomiting, the noise raw and filled with distress

Kaminari took an uneasy step back, his face pale as he forced himself to look away. "Dude… this, this isn't normal. This is seriously messed up." His voice wavered.

"I-I don't, how the hell was he even still talking?" Jirou muttered, her voice hushed, like she was afraid speaking too loudly would shatter what little composure remained among them.

Momo was visibly shaken, but she was forcing herself to focus, to keep her hands from trembling too much as she crafted the medical supplies Shinji had requested. "We need to stop the bleeding now," she said, trying to inject some level of control into the situation.

Shinji, despite the pain, gave a breathless, humorless chuckle. "Well," he rasped, his voice thin, "you all wanted to see how bad it was. Surprise." His fingers twitched, his body swaying slightly before he weakly added, "If anyone's gonna pass out, now's the time."

His words did little to lighten the mood. If anything, they made it worse.

Shinji forced himself to take a shaky breath, fighting against the growing haze in his mind. The pain was unbearable, but he couldn't afford to let it take him under just yet. He still had to get through this.

"Yayorozu," he rasped, voice uneven, "I need you to make a needle, thread, and if possible… antiseptic." His breath hitched, but he pushed forward, forcing the words out before he lost the ability to. "Something strong, alcohol, iodine, whatever you can manage. We need to clean this up before infection makes it worse."

Momo's hands clenched into fists for a second before she nodded sharply, pushing through her panic. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, and within moments, the requested items began to emerge from her skin.

"I got it," she said, her voice steadier than before, though the look in her eyes betrayed her fear.

Shinji gave a weak nod, his muscles trembling as he struggled to keep from passing out. "Good… now listen carefully." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the urgency in his tone kept everyone silent, hanging onto every word.

"Whoever's got the steadiest hands… you're going to stitch me up." Shinji's voice was strained, every word forced through gritted teeth. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep himself conscious. "You need to be quick but careful. Start with the deepest wound, get it closed first. The others… can wait." He exhaled sharply, his head tilting back against the ground. "Cut my suit off—just the top half should be fine."

The group exchanged uneasy glances. No one moved at first, the weight of the situation settling over them like a thick fog.

Momo was the first to act. Without hesitation, she pressed a hand to her chest, the familiar glow of her Quirk flaring to life. Within seconds, a pair of surgical scissors formed in her grasp. She knelt beside Shinji, her movements precise yet urgent. "Hold still," she instructed softly, though she knew he had little choice in the matter.

She gently lowered him onto his back, flinching when Shinji made Pained groan. The cold metal slid beneath the fabric of his suit, and with careful movements, she began cutting. The material parted easily under her hands, revealing torn flesh and deep lacerations beneath. She suppressed the shudder that threatened to run through her, this was worse than she thought. But now wasn't the time to falter.

The group exchanged uneasy glances. No one moved at first.

Jirou looked at her hands and then back at Shinji, her expression grim. "I can do it." She hesitated only for a second before kneeling beside him, rolling up her sleeves with an almost forced determination. "I've got a steady enough hand. Just, just tell me what to do."

Shinji gave her a faint nod of approval. "Alright," he murmured. "Heat the needle first. Kill any bacteria. Then thread it, make sure the knot is tight." His breathing was growing more labored, but he wasn't done. "When you stitch, don't just go through the skin, go deep enough to hold the muscle together. It's going to hurt like hell, but…" He exhaled shakily, his voice losing strength. "Just do it."

Jirou's throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, but she nodded. "Alright," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Alright, I can do this."

As she worked, the others could only watch in tense, horrified silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them like a suffocating fog.

Shinji sucked in a breath, his body trembling violently as Jirou heated the needle over a flame. The pain was excruciating, but he forced himself to focus. He couldn't afford to black out yet. Not when they still needed to do this right.

"Alright," he rasped, swallowing against the bile rising in his throat. "When you push the needle through, don't do it too fast, but don't hesitate either. Straight in, then out. If you hesitate, it'll just make it worse." His voice was hoarse, but the instruction was clear.

Jirou nodded, her jaw tightening as she worked. The moment the needle pierced his torn flesh, Shinji's entire body jerked, a strangled, pained noise escaping him before he clenched his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache.

He coughed violently, his body wracked with tremors, and a wet, sickening sound followed. A thick trickle of blood and bile spilled from his lips, staining his chin. Shinji barely had the strength to wipe it away.

"Shit," Kaminari muttered, looking queasy. "Dude, how do you even know how to do this?"

Shinji gave a weak, humorless chuckle, though it was cut short by another deep, body-racking cough. When he spoke again, his voice was rough, nearly lost between shallow breaths.

"Breach." The word alone sent a chill through the group. His gaze was distant, unfocused like he was seeing something else entirely. "I had to do this before. Except I didn't have antiseptic. Had to use whatever I could find."

Jirou's hands faltered for a second before she forced herself to keep going. "What… what did you use?"

Shinji exhaled shakily, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thread… wasn't thread. It was some kind of plant fiber. Tough, but flexible. I had to strip it down with my teeth to make it thin enough." He coughed again, more blood staining his lips. "The needle…" His breath hitched. "Piece of Striker. A shard that broke off. Heated it up with a campfire."

The group fell into stunned silence.

"You stitched yourself up," Momo murmured, her voice barely audible.

Shinji's lips twitched slightly, something that might've been a smirk if he weren't barely clinging to consciousness. "Why do you think most of my scars are so shoddy, I'm not winning any medical awards that's for sure."

Jirou swallowed hard, forcing her hands to stop shaking as she pulled the next stitch through. "Well, this time… you're not doing it alone."

Shinji hummed faintly in response, the sound almost lost beneath his shallow, uneven breaths. His vision blurred, his body growing heavier by the second. He didn't know how much longer he could stay awake.

Shinji's head swayed slightly, his body no longer fully responding to his commands. His vision swam in and out of focus, the sounds around him muffled like he was hearing them from underwater. He was dimly aware of Jirou's hands still working, of Momo's voice murmuring something to her, of someone, maybe Kaminari, cursing under their breath.

"Stay awake," Jirou muttered, her voice tense as she pulled another stitch through. "Come on, Takeyama, you don't get to pass out on us yet."

Shinji tried to respond, but the words tangled on his tongue, coming out as more of a slurred exhale than anything intelligible. His body felt distant, detached. Cold.

A hand gripped his shoulder, grounding him slightly. Bakugo. His grip was firm, almost painful, but it helped anchor Shinji to the present. "Oi, don't you dare pull this dramatic crap," Bakugo snapped, his voice rough but edged with something that almost sounded like concern. "You're gonna stay awake, got it?"

Shinji forced himself to inhale, though the action felt like dragging broken glass through his lungs. "M'tryin'…" he slurred.

"Try harder."

Momo's hands were steady as she pressed a freshly created bandage against one of the deeper wounds, applying just enough pressure to slow the bleeding. "He's going into shock," she said, her voice tight. "We need to keep him conscious."

"I'm working on it!" Jirou snapped, her hands still threading the needle through Shinji's torn skin. The strain in her voice was evident, but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

Shinji coughed again, the taste of copper thick in his mouth. He was exhausted. Every inch of his body was screaming for rest. But…

Something about the way the others hovered over him, about the way they kept talking, kept touching his shoulder, his arm, kept anchoring him, made him fight a little harder to stay awake.

"Hate to break it to you…" he rasped, barely getting the words out. "But I think… I'm gonna need… a sick day."

Kaminari let out a strangled laugh, though it was half-choked with nerves. "Yeah, no shit, dude."

Jirou finally tied off the last stitch, exhaling sharply as she wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. "Alright," she muttered. "That should hold for now."

Momo nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "We need to keep him awake and get him out of here as soon as possible. The pros should be arriving any moment now."

"Hate… to break it to you…again" Shinji rasped between shallow, labored breaths, his voice barely above a whisper. "But… coughing blood? Usually means… organ damage…" He let out a weak, breathy chuckle that quickly dissolved into another fit of ragged coughs, more crimson spilling from his lips. His head lolled slightly to the side, vision blurring at the edges. "Also… pretty sure there's… an actual crater in my chest."

A tense silence followed.

"Goddammit," Jirou muttered, wiping her hands on her already bloodied uniform.

Mina, still looking pale, swallowed hard. "Yeah, uh… we kinda noticed that part."

"Shit," Kaminari whispered, running a shaky hand through his hair. "That's, Shinji, dude, that's not something you just casually drop into conversation."

Shinji tried to shrug, but the movement barely registered. "Figured… y'all should know," he slurred. "Full disclosure… and all that."

"Heeey…" Shinji drawled weakly, his voice hoarse and uneven. "Just think of this as training… for when you all become pros. Patchin' up some half-dead idiot… it's gotta be on the syllabus somewhere, right?" He let out a breathy chuckle, though it quickly turned into a grimace as another wave of pain rolled through him.

His fingers twitched, barely able to move as the weight of his injuries pressed down on him. His body was screaming, every breath like fire in his lungs. He could feel the panic in the air, the way they were all hovering, unsure, desperate to help but not knowing what else to do.

"Also…" he wheezed, blinking sluggishly up at them, "please… keep talking. Ask me stuff, anything. Just… keep me distracted. awake"

There was a beat of silence before Jirou huffed, crossing her arms. "Oh yeah? What do you want, a pop quiz?"

Shinji smirked, or at least, tried to. "Maybe. Got… history facts?"

Kaminari snapped his fingers, scrambling for something to say. "Uh, okay! Who's the first number-one hero in recorded history?"

Shinji's eyelids fluttered. "Mm… gonna guess… All Might's great-great-grandpa?"

"Nope, but solid try," Kaminari shot back quickly, his voice a little too high-strung.

Momo pressed harder on one of his wounds, making him wince. "Shinji, this is serious," she scolded, but her voice wavered at the edges.

"That's why…" he inhaled sharply, "why I need the distraction." His breath hitched. "Not really… fond of staring at my own guts."

Ochako made a choked noise, turning away.

Bakugo scoffed, shaking his head. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

Shinji's lips barely curled into a lopsided grin. "Welcome."

"I'm not that stupid," Shinji rasped again, his voice weak but laced with that same wry humor. "I know you all have questions… about me, about everything. Go on, ask away. I'm probably delirious enough to answer just about anything."

He forced a smirk, but the exhaustion made it barely hold. His body was getting heavier, the pain creeping deeper, but if he let himself drift, he wasn't sure he'd come back. He needed them to keep him tethered, to keep him here.

"Anything?" Kaminari asked, brows furrowing. "Like, anything, anything?"

Shinji gave the smallest nod, swallowing against the metallic taste in his throat. "Yeah. Might as well… take advantage of my current lack of judgment. Might want to stay clear of darker topics though, don't want to make this worse for any of us"

Kirishima gave a weak chuckle. "Alright, man, I'll bite. What's the dumbest thing you've ever done? Y'know, besides this." He gestured vaguely at the mess of blood, torn armor, and Shinji's very obvious impending collapse.

Shinji snorted, though the breath hitched into a cough. "Oh, that's easy," he rasped. "One time, I thought I could jump a ravine in the Breach." He blinked slowly, his voice taking on a faintly nostalgic lilt. "Turns out… I couldn't ."

Mina stared. "Wait, wait, what?!"

"Yeah." Shinji coughed again, tasting copper. "Broke a rib. Or, uh… three." He waved a sluggish hand. "Made a decent landing, though. Well, eventually."

Midoriya tilted his head. "Did you at least have a plan?"

Shinji hummed faintly, eyes slipping shut for a moment before snapping open again. "Not a good one."

Jirou let out a slow breath, shaking her head. "I'm starting to think your entire existence is just a string of bad decisions."

Shinji smirked. "And yet, here I am."

Yaoyorozu, still stitching, frowned. "Barely."

Shinji's gaze flickered toward her, hazy but warm. "Which is why I appreciate the help." His fingers twitched against the dirt again. "Seriously, keep going. If I stop talking, that's a bad sign."

Ochako wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, still pale but determined. "Alright. If we're asking random questions, then… what's the first thing you're doing when you get out of here?"

Shinji exhaled through his nose. "Assuming I don't immediately pass out?" He hummed, considering. "Probably getting a drink. Something strong. Assuming Yu lets me anyway if she doesn't kill me anyway."

Bakugo rolled his eyes. "Shocking."

Shinji gave him a lazy grin. "Or, " he continued, voice slurring slightly, ", I take a very long nap. Like, coma-length."

"That's not how naps work," Kaminari muttered.

"Details," Shinji mumbled, vision blurring again. "Someone else ask something before I get too tired to care."

Kaminari, still shaken but trying to lighten the mood, raised his hand. "Alright, alright, I've got one! If you could have any quirk other than your own, what would it be?"

Shinji chuckled weakly, but the sound was strained. "Tough question. Guess I'd go for something… less deadly. Maybe teleportation. Get out of tight spots in a flash."

Mina raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? With your luck, you'd teleport into a wall or something."

Shinji grinned, a weak, tired thing. "I can't argue with that. But hey, maybe I'd end up in a pool… or an ice cream shop."

Momo's lips twitched in the barest of smiles. "I'm sure that would be much more pleasant."

Shinji's gaze drifted to the others, a sort of distant sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, well… you can dream, right?" His voice had dropped a notch, becoming less flippant and more introspective. "Sometimes the little things are all you have left."

Kirishima's brow furrowed slightly, his grip tightening on Shinji's arm. "Hey, man… you don't need to keep talking like that. We've got you, alright?"

Shinji glanced up at him, offering a small nod, though his body was failing him in real-time. "I know. I just… don't always get the luxury of staying around. Y'know?" His eyes wandered again, unfocused. "But hey… just keep the ice cream in mind, yeah? If I do get through this…"

"When you get through this," Mina corrected, her voice gentle but firm.

Shinji's lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. "Right. When." He closed his eyes, resting his head back, but the strain was obvious, his body shuddering under the effort to hold onto consciousness.

Shinji's chest heaved with shallow breaths, his entire body a battleground of pain. The momentary sense of relief that had come from the ice cream joke was fleeting. His mind buzzed, fatigued and desperate to cling to some semblance of normalcy.

But then a voice cut through the haze.

"Hey," Midoriya's voice was hesitant but steady, his concern palpable. "Why did you get up again? After everything you had gone through… how could you even move?"

The words hung in the air, weighty and direct. Everyone's gaze shifted to Shinji, who had been teetering on the brink of passing out just moments ago. They were all there, watching him. And though Todoroki said nothing, his quiet presence at the edge of the group spoke volumes, his eyes narrowing in silent thought, watching Shinji like everyone else.

Shinji exhaled slowly, the sound more like a forced rasp than a breath. His muscles screamed in protest, his limbs like lead, but still, there was something stubborn in his gaze. He lifted his head slightly, meeting Midoriya's eyes, and for a moment, there was nothing but that raw, quiet determination.

"I wasn't going to just sit there," Shinji muttered, his voice rough and strained, but still defiant. "You think I'd just let it happen? Let all of you get hurt because I couldn't move. I've been down before. A lot." He coughed weakly, the metallic taste of blood thick on his tongue. "But this... this is different." His breath was unsteady, shallow. "I was angry. You're still kids, we're still kids, and those villains were ready to kill you all just because they could."

It was true. Mostly. Even now, he knew he couldn't tell them about it, about the specter and whatever it had done to him. The way it had moved inside his mind, whispering in a voice he swore was his own. The way power surged through him, power that came from something that wasn't real. That was a truth too dangerous to speak aloud.

Shinji was too delirious to question his own thoughts, too far gone to wonder why he still believed the specter was just a fragment of his imagination. But somehow, somehow, it had made him stronger.

So he forced a smirk instead, one that barely held. "Besides… that thing was basically a kaiju, right? It'd be really embarrassing if I went down to just one after everything I survived in the Breach."

Kaminari let out a choked, disbelieving laugh. "Dude. Do you hear yourself?"

Shinji gave a weak shrug. "Not my best work, I'll admit."

Before anyone could respond, hurried footsteps echoed through the ruined battlefield. More voices, some frantic, some stunned into silence, began filtering in.

"Holy crap," Sero breathed, skidding to a stop as he took in the full extent of Shinji's injuries. His usual easy going demeanor shattered, replaced with something raw and horrified. "Dude, what happened to you?"

Jirou clenched her fists, her shoulders rigid with barely restrained emotion. "He nearly got himself killed is what happened." Her voice wavered, frustration and concern bleeding through in equal measure.

"Worth it," Shinji sputtered, the words barely making it past his bloodied lips. His smirk was weak, half-formed, but still there, still stubborn.

Mina stared at him in disbelief, eyes wet but burning with anger. "Worth it?! You can barely breathe, Shinji! You look like, like-" She gestured helplessly at his battered body, unable to finish the thought.

"Don't care," Shinji snapped, his breath hitching as another wave of pain lanced through him. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus on Mina's face. "I couldn't just let them take your guys' futures. I already lost mine… you don't need to lose yours too."

The weight of his words hung heavy between them, the unspoken truth settling in. Shinji had made his choice long before this fight, long before any of them had even realized how much he had been carrying alone. And now, as the blood pooled beneath him and the world swayed at the edges of his sight, he just hoped, prayed, that it had been enough.

Kirishima's mouth tightened, his teeth grinding together as he shook his head. "That's not how this works, man. You don't just get to decide that for us." His voice was thick with emotion, but Shinji could barely process it. Everything was starting to feel distant, his body, the voices, the cold creeping in.

Momo was on her knees beside them, hands trembling as she pressed fabric against one of Shinji's wounds in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. "You shouldn't have had to do this alone," she whispered, her usually composed voice cracking. "We could've helped you, should've helped you."

Shinji exhaled sharply, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Not exactly a team effort when you're fighting things no one else can see." His head lolled slightly as exhaustion took its toll, but he forced himself to keep talking. "Besides, I made it out, didn't I?"

"What part of 'barely' do you not understand?" Jirou asked, her voice unsteady, frustration bleeding into her tone as she looked him over like she was still trying to convince herself he was actually alive.

Shinji groaned, shifting slightly despite the screaming protest of his body. "Okay, yeah, message received, I look like hell. Can we move on to another question? Something that doesn't involve pointing out how wrecked I am?"

The group hesitated for a moment before Kaminari, ever the one to jump into an awkward silence, cleared his throat. "Alright, uh, who's Yu?"

"Oh, that one's easy," he murmured, letting out a breath that was almost a chuckle. "You probably already know her."

Kaminari blinked. "Wait, really? Is she a pro or something?"

Shinji gave a lopsided, weary grin. "Yeah. Kinda surprised you didn't put it together sooner, Mt. Lady."

Silence. Then,

"WHAT?!" Mina practically shrieked, nearly tripping over herself. "No way! You're messing with us!"

Kirishima's jaw practically hit the floor. "Dude, you're saying you're related to Mt. Lady? Like, THE Mt. Lady? Giant, dramatic, totally-in-love-with-the-camera Mt. Lady?"

Shinji gave a weak shrug, barely mustering the energy to smirk. "Name is. Yu Takeyama."

Ochako's eyes widened. "That actually makes so much sense. She always talks a big game, but then she does something crazy self-sacrificing like taking a villain's attack head-on just to protect some civilians."

"Or throwing herself at a villain without thinking of what comes after," Jirou muttered, crossing her arms.

Bakugo scoffed, shaking his head. "Figures. You're both reckless idiots who don't know when to back down."

Shinji huffed a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, well… family resemblance."

Kaminari ran a hand through his hair, still trying to process. "Man… I can't believe we've been hanging out with Mt. Lady's little brother this whole time. Does she know you're at U.A.?"

Shinji's expression flickered for just a second before he forced a grin. "Yeah. She knows. Visited yesterday" He didn't elaborate, and no one pressed, at least, not yet.

Mina's eyes practically sparkled. "Okay, but, like, what's she like off-camera? Is she as extra as she seems?"

Shinji's head dipped slightly, exhaustion's pull deepening, but his voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. "I don't actually know. With me… she's different. She always treats me with such care, like I could break at any moment."

That caught them off guard. The idea of Mt. Lady, loud, bold, and always hogging the spotlight, being gentle?

Momo frowned slightly. "She must really care about you."

Shinji gave a small, tired chuckle. "Yeah. Maybe a little too much. She was always watching over me, always making sure I was okay. I think… I think she was afraid that if she looked away for too long, I'd disappear." His gaze unfocused for a second before he blinked himself back to the present. "Can't really blame her for that."

Kirishima nodded, his expression understanding. "That's what big siblings do, man. They look out for us, even when we don't think we need it."

Shinji let out a slow breath, his body growing heavier. "Yeah… guess so." He forced himself to smirk, shifting slightly. "She'd hate to see me like this, though. Probably chew me out first, then cry about it later."

Ochako gave a small, sad smile. "Sounds like she really loves you."

Shinji hesitated, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, finally, he nodded. "Yeah. She does." His voice was softer now, almost like he was speaking more to himself than to them. "Even when I made it really hard."

Momo pressed harder against his wounds, her breath shaky. "He's losing too much blood. We need to get him to Recovery Girl now. Where are the pros?"

"I don't know," Kirishima admitted, frustration bleeding into his voice. "They should've been here by now."

"Then we keep him talking," Kaminari said quickly, panic lacing his words. He looked down at Shinji, forcing a grin. "Okay, dude, serious question, if you weren't doing all this hero stuff, what would you be doing?"

Shinji blinked sluggishly, his mind struggling to process the words through the haze of exhaustion. For a moment, there was silence, the question lingering in the air. Then, finally, he let out a rough, breathy chuckle.

"Dunno," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "Never really thought about it. Being a hero was kind of the plan from the start."

"That's it?" Mina pressed. "Come on, there had to be something else you wanted."

Shinji exhaled slowly, his gaze unfocused. "Maybe…" His brow furrowed slightly as if reaching for something distant. "Maybe a mechanic. I like putting things together, figuring out how they work."

Kirishima huffed a soft laugh. "Man, I can actually see that."

"You? Fixing stuff?" Jirou scoffed, crossing Her arms. "You break everything you touch."

Shinji smirked weakly. "That's how you learn." His voice was growing fainter, and his eyelids drooped dangerously.

"Hey, stay with us," Jirou said sharply, nudging his shoulder. "No passing out yet."

Shinji forced his eyes open a little more, though it was clear it was getting harder. "You guys ask the weirdest questions."

"Better than letting you bleed out in silence," Kaminari shot back, nudging him lightly. "Now keep talking."

Shinji let out a weak, breathless chuckle, his lips barely curling into a smirk. "Just realized," he mumbled, the end of his words slurring together, "most open I've ever been…"

He exhaled shakily, blinking sluggishly as his head lolled slightly to the side. "Literally, too."

Mina groaned. "Okay, nope, you do not get to make jokes about how much you're bleeding out."

"That's, like, peak unhealthy coping," Jirou muttered, pressing two fingers against his wrist, checking his pulse. Her frown deepened. "His heartbeat's getting weaker."

"Shinji," Momo said urgently, shaking him slightly. "Stay awake. Just a little longer."

His eyes fluttered, but his smirk remained, even as exhaustion pulled at him like a tide. "You guys stress too much…"

"Yeah? Well, maybe if you weren't actively dying, we wouldn't have to," Kirishima snapped, his voice strained with frustration.

Bakugo clicked his tongue, eyes darting around. "Where the hell are the pros?!" His hands clenched into fists, sparks crackling at his palms. "If they don't show up soon, I'm carrying his dumbass there myself."

Shinji huffed, barely a sound. "Romantic."

"You shut up," Bakugo growled.

Kaminari forced a grin, nudging him again, gentler this time. "Hey, man, don't worry. We'll get you patched up, and then you can tell us more about how you and Mt. Lady are actually related."

Shinji groaned, barely holding onto consciousness. "You guys are obsessed."

"Obviously," Mina said. "Now stay awake so we can bother you about it later."

Shinji let out a slow breath, his body feeling heavier by the second. He swallowed the taste of iron still thick in his mouth. "Seriously though," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is… the most I've talked since before the Breach."

The words hung in the air, heavier than his condition, heavier than the blood soaking the ground beneath him.

His classmates went quiet for a beat. Even Bakugo didn't immediately snap back.

Momo's hands faltered for half a second before she pressed down harder on his wounds as if that alone could keep him here, keep him from slipping away.

Jirou's fingers twitched, her grip tightening on his wrist. "That long…?"

Shinji huffed, a ghost of a laugh. "Yeah… don't… don't really do the whole 'sharing feelings' thing anymore." His eyelids drooped before he forced them open again, his breath shuddering. "Didn't see the point."

Kirishima's jaw clenched. "Man… that's not okay."

"It's not about being okay," Shinji murmured, his voice distant. "It's just how it is."

"Bullshit," Kaminari muttered, his usual lightheartedness gone. "You, " He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his eyes. "You don't just stop talking for years and act like that's normal."

Mina exhaled sharply. "What the hell happened to you in there?"

Shinji blinked sluggishly, his mind fogging over. He could barely feel his body anymore, like he wasn't fully in it, like he was floating somewhere just outside himself.

He should've lied. Should've brushed it off.

But he was so tired.

So he answered.

"…Everything."

Shinji let the silence stretch, his breath uneven but steady enough to speak. "…Another question."

Kirishima, still kneeling beside him, hesitated before asking, "Okay… if you weren't here, if none of this had happened, what would you be doing right now?"

Shinji opened his mouth, the answer forming, Sleeping? Training? Something normal for once?, but before he could get the words out, the doors slammed open with a force that sent dust and debris scattering.

The sudden noise startled them all, but relief flooded the room as their teachers rushed in.

Midnight was the first to reach them, but whatever urgency she'd come in with faltered for just a second as she took in the scene, jagged cracks splitting through the walls and floor, debris littering the space, and the overwhelming smell of blood thick in the air. Her usual composure wavered, her lips parting slightly in something like shock before she shook it off, dropping to her knees beside Shinji.

"Get him up, now!" she barked, her voice sharp with something almost like panic. "There's an ambulance waiting outside. We're getting him out of here."

Present Mic was right behind her, his usual loud energy gone, replaced by a rare seriousness. "Damn, kid…" His glasses hid his eyes, but the tension in his jaw said enough. "Can you even stay awake?"

Cementoss had already started reinforcing the structure, his expression grim. "Is anyone else injured? What happened here?"

Midnight pressed her hand lightly against Shinji's shoulder, trying to gauge how bad it really was, but the moment she felt the warmth of fresh blood against her fingertips, she inhaled sharply. Too much. Way too much.

"Shinji, stay with us," she urged, her usual teasing tone nowhere to be found. "We need you conscious."

Shinji exhaled a shaky breath, his body barely responding at this point. But he still forced himself to speak, his voice so weak it was barely more than a whisper.

"Tell them…" His fingers twitched, like he was trying to reach for her sleeve but couldn't find the strength. "The Nomu… don't fight it."

Midnight's breath hitched, eyes flickering between his face and the others. "What? What are you talking about?"

Shinji's eyelids fluttered, his breathing uneven. "Different… stronger… Don't…" His voice trailed off, barely a breath now, his body going slack.

"Shit," Present Mic muttered, moving closer. "We're running out of time, let's go, now!"

Midnight swallowed hard, nodding sharply. "Move him carefully. We don't know how much more he can take."

With that, they lifted him as gently as they could, rushing him toward the exit where flashing red and blue lights waited just outside.

The daylight stung Shinji's half-lidded eyes as they rushed him outside, the heat doing nothing to thaw the bone-deep cold sinking into him. The world around him felt distant, sirens wailing, voices sharp with urgency, yet his mind clung stubbornly to the moment, refusing to let go just yet.

"Easy, watch his ribs!" one of the paramedics instructed as they lifted him onto the gurney. The straps tightened, holding him in place, but Shinji barely flinched, his body too battered to register much beyond exhaustion and pain.

Perched atop a paramedic's shoulder, Nezu tilted his head, his beady eyes flickering over Shinji's wrecked form. "Ah, young Shinji, you seem to have a rather dramatic way of demonstrating your dedication to heroism." His voice was light, but there was an unmistakable edge of concern beneath it.

Shinji blinked sluggishly, his gaze dragging toward him. "Can I… give the others extra credit?" he muttered, his voice frayed at the edges.

Nezu's whiskers twitched in amusement. "Oh? And what subject would this be under? Reckless Endangerment 101?"

Shinji huffed weakly. "Effort…" he rasped, his lips quirking faintly. "Tried real hard…"

Nezu let out a small, thoughtful hum, clasping his tiny paws together. "While I admire the enthusiasm for rewarding effort, I do believe I'd have to file the paperwork for that first… and oh, the bureaucratic nightmare it would be! You wouldn't believe how much red tape is involved in unofficial grading systems."

Midnight sighed beside him, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Now is not the time, Principle Nezu."

Nezu, undeterred, continued in his usual chipper tone, though his sharp eyes never left Shinji's paling face. "But, if it's any consolation, I do believe your classmates have earned quite a few practical experience points today." His voice softened, just a fraction. "And you, my dear student, have certainly given us all quite the lesson in perseverance."

Shinji's eyes fluttered, his consciousness slipping, but a small smirk ghosted over his lips. "So… passin' grade…?"

Nezu chuckled lightly, an odd warmth to it. "I'd say you've more than exceeded expectations."

The paramedics hoisted the gurney into the ambulance, and Midnight climbed in after them, still looking rattled. As the doors slammed shut, Shinji could hear his classmates distantly explaining what happened.

Then, finally, the world faded away.