The once-bright halls of U.A. had become something else entirely.

No longer just a school, it now served as a shelter, a field hospital, and a sanctuary for the wounded—physically and emotionally. Cots lined the gymnasium floors, the smell of antiseptic mingling with the faintest whiff of smoke from distant fires. Heroes, students, and civilians moved through the building with slow, exhausted steps. Even the walls seemed tired.

Recovery Girl shuffled from bed to bed, her kind face drawn with fatigue, her healing quirk pushing its limits. She smiled still—but the smile had cracks.

Eri stood just outside the infirmary doorway, her small hands balled into trembling fists, her eyes wide and glassy. She’d been helping with water, snacks—anything she could manage—but every time she saw someone in pain, in bandages, in grief, a sharp, cold guilt burrowed into her chest.

She knew she could help. She wanted to help.

But the fear was always there—if she tried to rewind someone and lost control… what if she made them disappear?

So she stayed frozen. Useless. A child again. Powerless in a place that desperately needed power.

And then, across the corridor, through the open doors—she saw them.

Izuku. Limping slightly, bandaged from shoulder to waist. Mirio beside him, his smile present but worn, guiding him gently through the crowd. They looked like shadows of themselves—strong still, but dulled around the edges by pain and exhaustion.

The moment their eyes met hers, Eri’s breath hitched.

She ran.

Small feet slapping against the tile floor, tears welling as she flung herself toward them. “Deku! Lemillion!” Her voice cracked halfway through.

They both knelt just in time to catch her in their arms.

“I can help now!” she cried, burying her face in Izuku’s chest. “I can fix it—I can rewind you—I can make you better, please just let me try—!”

Her words tumbled out between sobs, guilt and hope tangled in every breath. She clutched at their sleeves as if she could hold them together with her hands alone.

Izuku’s voice, raw but gentle, met her with all the strength he had left. “Eri… It’s okay. You don’t have to do this all by yourself. We’re here with you.”

Mirio cupped the back of her head, pressing his forehead to hers. “You already helped us more than you know, sunshine.”