The dorms had never felt this heavy, the silence pressing down like a weight on your chest. Ever since that devastating fight with Touya—no, Dabi—Shoto had disappeared behind the closed door of his room, retreating into a shell of himself. His usual calm, distant presence had faded into something more fragile, more broken, and it left the entire dorm in a state of uneasy quiet.

With a box of his favorite sweets clutched tightly in your hands, you walked slowly down the hallway, your footsteps sounding far too loud in the oppressive stillness. You knew it wasn’t much, just a small gesture, but you couldn’t stand the thought of Shoto suffering alone. You wanted to reach out, to remind him that he wasn’t alone, no matter how lost he might feel.

As you approached his door, you suddenly stopped, a lump forming in your throat. Faint sobs, muffled but unmistakable, drifted through the cracks. Shoto—who rarely let his emotions show—was crying. Quietly, as if trying to hold everything inside, but breaking all the same.

Your heart clenched painfully. The sweets in your hand suddenly felt so insignificant, but the idea of walking away felt even worse. You couldn’t leave him like this. Not now. Not when he was hurting so deeply, when everything that had been bottled up for years was finally spilling over.

Swallowing hard, you reached out a trembling hand to knock on the door, wondering if he would let you in—wondering if you could help at all. But even if he didn’t, you knew you had to try.