𝘗𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐𝘵 𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘍𝘢𝘳
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Training had been relentless, an unyielding stream of sessions ever since Aizawa had arranged for (Y/n) to work with Todoroki and Izuku. With Todoroki, each session had focused on delicate control, a gradual, almost grueling progression toward understanding and mastering her destructive side without letting it slip too far out of control. Todoroki had taught her that power, raw and volatile, could be dialed back; it could be as precise as she needed it to be. They'd spent countless hours finding that thin balance—starting with a flicker, a glimpse of her quirk's ability, then edging the intensity upward as she grew more comfortable. She could feel herself inching closer to that fabled "full capacity," but the thought of wielding it to its maximum potential filled her with unease.
These lingering doubts took root, tangling with her thoughts. How did her father manage it, to have such a dangerous quirk in his hands yet remain unwaveringly in control? The power to erase, to harm—it came to her so naturally, yet it felt like an encroaching shadow she feared crossing. She wondered how he had maintained that elusive, delicate boundary between using it and letting it overtake him. She found herself obsessively replaying these questions even during classes, to the point where Momo's voice occasionally faded into the background as she zoned out.
But despite her doubts, she had come remarkably far in catching up academically. Momo had structured her study sessions with razor-sharp precision, walking her through the curriculum that her classmates had absorbed over their three years at U.A. (Y/n) estimated that she was nearly halfway there—an achievement that should have filled her with pride, though it instead left her feeling strained, exhausted. Momo had tested her knowledge with small pop quizzes, scaling them up to comprehensive exams, and while she passed most with ease, each victory seemed to drain her a bit more.
Aizawa had taken note of her dwindling energy. It was hard not to. The once bright, if somewhat awkward, spark he'd noticed in her had dimmed, reduced to something almost hollow, an imitation of her usual self. He watched her in class, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion, her responses slower, a forced upbeat tone that lacked its usual energy. After training, he'd observe her trudging back to her dorm, her shoulders slouched as if every step were a monumental effort. She was pushing herself too far, Aizawa could see that, but the girl seemed oblivious to her own limits—or too afraid to stop.
That Saturday morning, she had arranged yet another lesson with Momo before the latter had to leave for her own plans. Once they finished, Momo quietly shut (Y/n)'s door and stepped into the hallway where Aizawa, Izuku, and Uraraka waited. She frowned, glancing toward Aizawa, her voice soft but laced with worry.
"I don't think (Y/n) is eating or sleeping properly," Momo confessed, her eyes troubled. "She's... she's overdoing it. With everything."
Izuku nodded solemnly. "Todoroki told me the same thing. She's... she's like a shell of herself in training, you know? It's like she's there, but... not really there. I think she's pressuring herself way too much."
Uraraka's face softened, her brow furrowing as she added, "It's only been three months since she started third year, but it's like she's terrified of falling behind, like she's running out of time." Her voice dropped to a murmur. "Maybe... maybe she's scared she'll lose control again, like when she was held captive."
Momo gave a small nod. "She mentioned something about that... About being kept in a tank and only taken out occasionally. It was awful. She seemed almost... haunted by the League, as if she thinks they might come for her again." Her voice grew even softer. "She's trying to get stronger, as fast as she can, but I think that fear is what's really driving her."
Aizawa listened quietly, his face stoic but his eyes reflecting a simmering concern. He'd suspected as much but hearing it confirmed weighed heavily on him. Kirishima, Bakugo, and Kaminari, who had overheard the conversation as they were about to leave, glanced at each other with uneasy expressions. Bakugo, in particular, looked as if he'd been struck with a realization, his gaze shifting away, processing this new understanding in silence.
Aizawa finally sighed and nodded, his voice firm. "I understand. I'll make sure she takes a break, get some rest, and eat. If she doesn't, she won't be able to keep this up much longer." He glanced over at Izuku, who nodded in agreement.
"Yeah," Izuku said, his face somber. "Todoroki and I can't keep training with her if she's too light-headed to stand up. She's not in any shape to do it."
Kirishima looked over, his face creased with worry. "Is there anything we can do? Maybe bring her some food?"
Aizawa nodded, his tone slightly softened as he thought it over. "If you three could go out and bring back something easy on the stomach, I'd appreciate it. I'll cover the cost." Kirishima and Kaminari both nodded, instantly agreeing, while Bakugo stood still, giving Aizawa a measured look. Something flickered behind Bakugo's eyes—skepticism, maybe, but also a trace of something else. He didn't say a word, though, just followed the others.
As they left, Izuku couldn't help but bring up his observation. "Mr. Aizawa, do you think Kacchan's been giving (Y/n) a hard time? I've seen him watching her a lot, almost like he's waiting to see if she's... I don't know, a threat?"
Aizawa's expression softened slightly as he nodded. "Bakugo has a hard time trusting new people. He's... still figuring out where she fits in." Uraraka frowned, her cheeks puffing in mild irritation.
"Well, he's not going to learn much by staring holes into her from across the room. He needs to spend time with her if he wants to see who she really is," she said with a pout. Aizawa considered this thoughtfully, a faint smirk forming briefly as he nodded.
"You may be right," he said. "I just worry with her panic disorder, how she will be able to handle his outbursts. Especially if I were to pair the two together for sparring matches during class."
Izuku shook his head with a determined and encouraging smile, "If she could handle being up against Todoroki and I going all out during our sparring matches with her, I'm sure she can handle Kacchan."
Aizawa nodded in gratitude and thanked them before turning back to (Y/n)'s door, knocking and waiting for her muffled response. Opening the door, he leaned against the frame, his usual calm presence tinged with a hint of authority that made her look up in surprise.
"Close your books," he said firmly. She blinked, momentarily stunned by his tone, but complied, shutting her textbook and looking up at him, bewildered. Aizawa stepped into the room, studying her with a scrutinizing gaze.
"You're not well, (Y/n)," he began. "I've seen you dozing off in class, struggling to keep up during training, and you're pushing yourself too hard. This isn't sustainable." His voice softened slightly, but his gaze remained unwavering. "In just three months, you've covered half of what my students have learned in two years—that's an impressive feat. But the way you're treating yourself, staying up late, skipping meals... it's going to backfire if you keep going."
She looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't realize how far I'd pushed it... I'm sorry."
Aizawa's expression softened further as he took in the guilt lining her features. "I sent Kirishima, Kaminari, and Bakugo out to get you something to eat," he told her. "We'll start small since your stomach probably isn't used to much food right now. And you're going to take care of yourself, because if you don't, you won't have the strength to do any of this." He paused, adding, "You're a teenager. That means you're allowed to rest, even enjoy life every once in a while. You have friends here; lean on them. Not everything has to be a battle."
(Y/n) nodded slowly, and a glimmer of realization crossed her face. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa. I'll... I'll be more mindful from now on."
With a small nod of approval, he stepped back. "Get some rest," he said, his tone gentle. "And remember, you don't have to fight this alone."
She watched as he closed the door behind him, leaving her in a quiet room that suddenly felt a little less daunting. With a heavy exhale, she climbed into bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing her down like gravity itself. The moment her head touched the pillow, sleep came almost immediately, pulling her into a much-needed, dreamless rest.
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