my hero academia · class 1a · hitoshi shinso · angst · trauma · breaking point · war setting · despair · tragic · emotional
The fluorescent tubes overhead hummed with a sterile, oppressive vibration, casting a cold light over the rows of desks. Outside, the sky was a bruised, suffocating gray, filtering through the windows in dull streaks. The air in the room felt thick, saturated with the scent of chalk and a lingering, heavy tension that had draped itself over Class 1A like a funeral shroud. You sat perfectly still, a bright, practiced smile plastered onto your face, though your fingers trembled rhythmically beneath the desk. Today was supposed to be different. You had woken up with a genuine warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope that had stayed lit for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to give that light away. But the echoes of the morning were already haunting you—Jirou's sharp tongue, Kaminari's…