Chapter 51: Aftershocks and Empathy
The stadium was a place of controlled chaos. The cataclysmic end to the quarter-final match had left a deep, physical scar upon the arena and an even deeper, psychological one upon its audience. On the field, the Pro Hero Cementoss was methodically at work, his hands pressed to the ground as he coaxed the shattered concrete of the ring back into a semblance of order. The last of the melted ice hissed into steam, and the scorched, blackened patches of sand were a stark reminder of the fiery confrontation that had taken place.
Midnight's voice, amplified and authoritative, echoed through the stands, imposing a fragile order on the buzzing crowd. "Due to the unforeseen intensity of the last match, we will be taking an extended intermission to ensure the complete safety and integrity of the arena! The semi-finals will commence in one hour!"
High above, in a separate stadium where the third-year festival was in full swing, Principal Nezu took a report from a frantic staff member, a calm, thoughtful expression on his face.
"A complete loss of control, a public confrontation between the top two Pro Heroes, and a destroyed arena, you say?" Nezu mused, taking a delicate sip of tea. He let out a high-pitched, almost amused chuckle. "My, my. The first-years are certainly having a wild and eventful festival, aren't they? Has the situation been contained?"
"Y-Yes, sir," the staffer confirmed. "All Might has de-escalated the situation. The competitors are being seen to."
"Excellent," Nezu said, his dark eyes gleaming with a strategic light. "Let them proceed. These chaotic moments are often the most valuable learning experiences."
In the quiet, sterile corridors beneath the stands, a small, somber group from Class 1-A moved with a shared, unspoken purpose.
"As class representative," Tenya Iida announced, pushing his glasses up his nose, "it is our duty to check on the well-being of our classmates who were injured in battle."
"I agree!" Uraraka said, her face a mask of genuine concern. "Todoroki-kun looked like he was in a lot of pain, and… Gaara-kun, too."
Midoriya, his own bandaged hands a testament to the day's battles, nodded in firm agreement. Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, and a few others murmured their assent. Trailing at the back of the group, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his expression a thunderous scowl, was Katsuki Bakugo. He was not here out of a sense of duty or concern. He was here to settle a score.
They reached the infirmary door. A deep breath was taken. They entered.
The room was quiet and smelled of antiseptic. Shoto Todoroki was sitting up in one bed, a thick thermal blanket draped over his shoulders as Recovery Girl treated the minor frostbite creeping up his right side. He was staring silently at the ceiling, lost in a cold, distant world of his own. In a bed across the room, Gaara sat perfectly still, his back straight. He wasn't looking at anything. He was just staring at his own hands, which rested, palms up, on his lap, as if they were foreign objects he had never seen before.
The heavy silence in the room was immediately shattered by Bakugo.
"So," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous growl that made everyone flinch. He stalked towards Gaara's bed, a predator cornering his prey. "The little monster finally showed its true colors."
"Kacchan, stop it!" Midoriya said, quickly moving to stand between them, a fragile, bandaged shield.
Bakugo shoved him aside with a contemptuous snort. "Stay out of this, Deku!" He glared down at Gaara, his crimson eyes burning with a furious, vindicated rage. "I told all of you from the start. He's not a student. He's a criminal. A monster that belongs in a cage. You all saw it! He completely lost his mind!" He jabbed a finger at Gaara. "I'm going to be the one to put you in your place, right here, right now!"
He lunged, his hand already crackling with threatening explosions, but Kirishima was faster, grabbing him from behind in a hard, restraining grip. "Bakugo, calm down, man! This isn't the place for this!"
It was then that Gaara's voice, quiet and hoarse, cut through the chaos.
"He is right."
Everyone froze. Bakugo stopped struggling. They all turned to look at Gaara, who hadn't moved from his bed. He slowly lifted his head, first to look at Todoroki, whose own shocked gaze had finally broken from the ceiling.
"I apologize," he said, his voice a soft, fragile rasp. "For what happened. At the end." He then looked down at his own hands again, and a flicker of something raw and unseen—a deep, profound fear—crossed his face. "I was… also terrified."
The confession, so simple and so vulnerable, stunned the room into a new kind of silence.
"The thing that is supposed to protect me…" Gaara continued, his voice barely a whisper, a confession not just to them, but to himself. "For a moment… it became something that controlled me. I did not know what I was doing."
His words, so full of genuine, quiet horror, seemed to drain the explosive rage from Bakugo, replacing it with a confused, sputtering anger. The other students' expressions softened. The hard edges of their wariness began to melt away, replaced by a dawning, shocking sense of pity, and perhaps, understanding.
It was Fumikage Tokoyami who stepped forward. He, more than anyone else in the room, understood the terror of a power with a will of its own. A rare, small, and almost imperceptible smile touched his beak.
"You are in the same state as I am," he said, his voice a low, respectful rumble. He gestured to his own shoulder, where Dark Shadow would normally be. "We have powers that are not always our own. We simply have to tame them. To understand them. And to bring them under our complete control."
Midoriya, seeing the first, fragile bridge being built, quickly added his own support. He held up his own bandaged hands. "He's right. I still haven't found a way to properly control my own power, either. In that way… you're like most of us, Gaara-kun."
"He's right!" Kirishima chimed in, a genuine, toothy grin on his face, his anger at Bakugo forgotten. "We're all just trying to figure this stuff out!"
"Indeed," said Yaoyorozu, a warm, reassuring smile on her face.
"Let's all just do our best together!" Uraraka added, her own eyes shining with a new, hopeful light.
One by one, they offered him their own words of encouragement, their own hesitant, but genuine, smiles.
Gaara looked up, his teal eyes moving from one face to the next. He saw Kirishima's honest grin. He saw Yaoyorozu's elegant smile. He saw Iida's formal, respectful nod. He saw Uraraka's bright, warm, and open expression.
And as he looked at these new, warm, and unconditional smiles, a flash of memory, cold and sharp, cut through his mind. He saw the smiles of darkness from his past. The wide, predatory, and broken grin of Shigaraki. The condescending, mocking smirk of Monoma. The fearful, forced smiles of the villagers who had tried to placate the monster they saw before them.
Those smiles had been cold. They had been tools of manipulation, of mockery, of fear.
These… these were different. They held no ulterior motive. They asked for nothing in return.
They were warm.
He remained silent, but as he looked at the faces of his classmates, at the first, fragile bonds of a community he had never known, something deep within the frozen desert of his soul began, ever so slowly, to thaw.
~~~~
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