Shadows of the Mind

Chapter 14 Unraveling Threads and Rising Tension

The training grounds of UA High buzzed with the familiar sound of shouts, clashing metal, and the hum of Quirks sparking to life. Class 3-A stood ready for their joint combat exercise, adrenaline thick in the air. Aizawa's eyes swept over the group with a practiced, unreadable calm, lingering for a moment on Kageko Yamikaze.

Kageko took a steadying breath as she stood between Kirishima and Bakugo. The intensity of the drill, which simulated a real-life emergency with unpredictable challenges, pushed her nerves to the edge. She felt the familiar prickle at the base of her neck—the shadows within her responding like a coiled serpent ready to strike.

"Keep up, Darkling," Bakugo barked, eyes glinting with impatience and something unreadable. She caught his gaze and nodded once, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sharp retort.

As the drill began, the team leapt into action. Kageko's shadows curled around her like an extension of her body, lashing out to disarm opponents and create smokescreens. But the moment Kirishima took a hit and staggered back, her focus wavered. Shadows twisted erratically at her feet, flickering like an unstable flame.

"Kageko, get your head in the game!" Bakugo's voice cut through the noise. His tone, usually biting, carried an edge of concern. She didn't have time to dissect it, but the intensity of his voice spurred her on.

One of the holographic attackers lunged, and Kageko's control snapped momentarily. The shadow she summoned coiled into a jagged shape before disintegrating, forcing Bakugo to step in with an explosive counterattack. His jaw clenched, eyes flashing as he shot her a glare—sharp, questioning, but with something deeper that made her breath catch—before turning his attention back to their adversaries.

The exercise ended minutes later with the team panting, adrenaline crackling in the air like a live wire. Aizawa's eyes met Kageko's from across the grounds, a subtle nod acknowledging her silent battle. She swallowed hard, trying not to show how deeply her failure gnawed at her.

"Yamikaze. Shinso. Stay for a moment." The rest of Class 3-A began dispersing, leaving Kageko and Shinso standing aside. Kageko felt a pang of tension as Aizawa approached, his eyes steady and unreadable.

Once the training grounds had emptied, Aizawa crossed his arms. "I noticed your performance today," he began, eyes narrowing slightly. "Your Quirk's instability is concerning, Kageko."

Kageko's jaw tightened. The slip had been small but significant enough to catch attention. "I'm handling it, Dad," she said, the word slipping out naturally, carrying a warmth only Shinso and Aizawa understood.

Aizawa's expression softened briefly, an acknowledgment of their familial connection flickering in his eyes before his usual stoic demeanor returned. "You're not handling it alone, Kage. I trained you both to work past limitations, but that doesn't mean ignoring them. If your emotions affect your Quirk, we need to address it—together."

Shinso nodded, arms loosely crossed. "We'll make sure of it," he added, his voice steady, eyes flicking briefly to Kageko as if to reaffirm his promise.

Aizawa's eyes shifted between the two. "There's an underlying tension, a weight to what's coming. I need both of you prepared for more than just physical challenges. You've got support here. Use it."

Kageko met his gaze and exhaled. "Understood."

A small, almost imperceptible nod was his only response before he stepped back. "Dismissed."

Back in the dorms, Kageko's hands trembled as she flexed them, the ghostly sensation of shadows slipping through her fingers like smoke. She stared at them, willing them to still.

"You don't have to carry all of it alone, you know." Shinso's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, calm and unassuming. He leaned against her doorframe, his purple eyes filled with an understanding only he could provide.

Kageko's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, forced and fleeting. "I know," she replied, the weight of unspoken fears anchoring her voice. The room felt too small, too confining. But she nodded, acknowledging his quiet support. "Thanks, Toshi."

Shinso watched her for a moment longer before stepping away, leaving her with the familiar echo of solitude.

The common room buzzed with laughter and casual chatter that evening. Mina had convinced most of the class to join in a game of cards, the pile of brightly colored snacks and drinks adding to the chaotic energy. Kageko sat at the edge of the group, Mina's easy grin pulling her in despite her instinct to distance herself.

"C'mon, Kazi, don't look so serious!" Mina teased, nudging her shoulder. "You're part of the team now."

Before Kageko could respond, Bakugo strolled by, a smirk cutting across his face. "Yeah, try not to turn everything into a mission briefing, Darkling." The playful mock in his voice, though harsh, tugged at something inside her that felt strangely... light.

She raised an eyebrow. "Says the one who doesn't know how to relax even in his sleep." The comeback was quick, their banter familiar enough now to draw chuckles from the others.

Bakugo's eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth quirked up just a bit, unnoticed by anyone but her.

News flickered on the common room's TV, background noise amid the laughter. A headline scrolled across the bottom: "Elusive Villain Reverie Continues Psychological Attacks on Heroes." The words landed like a cold splash of water on Kageko's senses. Her shadows twitched, the movement subtle but sharp enough to catch Bakugo's attention.

"Oi, you good?" he muttered, not looking directly at her but glancing sideways with a guarded expression.

"Fine," she replied curtly, her tone clipped. She forced the shadows to still, exhaling slowly as Mina and Kirishima's laughter filled the silence between them.

The dim glow of streetlights cast long shadows over the empty alley where Aizawa had once trained her. Kageko was younger, eyes wide and determined, shadows swirling around her feet like protective wisps. Aizawa stood at a distance, arms crossed. "Reverie isn't just a name. It's a mental game," he said, his voice grave.

Kageko clenched her fists. She'd read the reports—a villain who could infiltrate the mind, sowing seeds of doubt and fear until even the strongest heroes fell apart. "How do you fight something that's inside your head?" she had asked, shadows trembling at the thought.

"You don't let them in," Aizawa replied, his eyes hard. "You learn to trust your own mind and the strength around you."

The memory faded, but the weight of it remained.

The night closed in around the dorms. Kageko sat on the edge of her bed, the soft glow of her lamp casting long shadows against the wall. They moved, restless, echoing her thoughts. She shut her eyes, the familiar words repeating like a mantra: Heroes don't get the luxury of whining about their past; we just... keep moving forward.

A knock at her door broke the silence. Her eyes snapped open, heart quickening. She called out, the sound tentative.

"Come in."

The creak of the door opening filled the room, leaving the air heavy with uncertainty, as if the shadows themselves held their breath.