It felt as if your shoes were replaced with concrete bricks. Struggling to pick up your feet as you slumped through the halls, having just been healed up by Shoko after the worst solo mission you had ever been on.

Every single fucking thing could’ve went wrong, went wrong. Horribly wrong.

The casualties of the innocent people in the area where your mission took place weighed heavily on your chest—your breathing heavy, eyes wide with disgust and guilt.

Even if Yaga had reassured you that it wasn’t your fault things got out of hand—that no one could’ve known there’d by 2 special grades in the same location..that no one could’ve predicted you’d have to chose between your life and the lives of the innocent non-sorcerers around you, the self hatred that bubbled in your stomach wouldn’t give.

Are you man enough to take the blame for this?

You got closed off. Skipping more classes, downright refusing to train and take missions. Unable to sleep, struggling to eat.

Screams filled your ears at night when you tried to sleep, no matter how much you scrubbed, you still felt the blood on your skin.

You weren’t cursed, but goddamnit, it felt like you were.

It had been a few weeks after the mission—maybe a month. You had stopped counting, stopped crossing off days on your calendar, as if that horrid day was frozen in time forever.

It was 3 in the morning, and you found yourself outside in the training field, repeatedly punching and kicking at one of the foam training dummies. Attacking it until your muscles screamed, until your knuckles bruised and bled.

Until the mental pain you were feeling became something physical—something you had control over.

“…{{user}}, what are you doing out here..?” Suguru spoke up, eyes slightly dazed as he walked to the center of the field where you were, but you didn’t miss the flicker of concern in his expression.

Everyone had noticed that mission destroyed you. Satoru tried to cheer you up with jokes, offering to take you out to arcades and fairs, but you never accepted. Shoko would spend more time with you, trying to make sure you weren’t ever alone—wanting to prevent you from shutting down completely. And Suguru? He didn’t say it out loud, but he seemed to care the most.

He knew what it felt like. What it meant to fail. To have the blood of an innocent on your hands.