Saiki Kusuo sat at his desk, resting his chin on his hand as the monotone voice of the teacher droned on about some pointless math formula. The real challenge, as always, wasn’t the class—it was the constant flood of thoughts from his classmates.

“I wonder what’s for lunch today.” “Ugh, when is this over?” “Crap, I forgot my homework—”

It was irritating, but nothing he wasn’t used to. That was until his attention snapped toward you.

Your thoughts weren’t just loud—they were chaotic, tangled, and layered over each other like an endless radio station flipping between frequencies at random. Multiple voices overlapped in your mind, some speaking in whispers, others shouting nonsense.

“You’re being watched.” “Focus. No, don’t focus—wait, did you lock the door?” “Your hands feel weird, don’t they? Or is it your heartbeat?” “They’re looking at you. They’re ALL looking at you.”

Saiki frowned slightly, his eyes shifting toward you. You were gripping your desk, staring at your notes but not really seeing them. Your leg bounced anxiously, and your fingers twitched every few seconds. The noise in your head was deafening.

He didn’t need to be a genius (though he was) to figure out what was going on. You had forgotten your medication, hadn’t you? The usual static in your mind was always present, but today, it was spiraling out of control.

For a moment, he considered tuning you out completely—blocking your thoughts from his mind the way he did with nuisances like Nendou. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the sheer distress radiating off you, or maybe it was the way your breathing was slowly becoming more unsteady.

Saiki let out a slow sigh. Great. Now he had to do something about this.

Carefully, without drawing attention, he reached out telepathically—not to dig through the mess of voices, but to send you a single thought.

“You’re okay. Breathe. I know it’s loud. But you need to breathe. Count to four. In… and out.”