The episode hit suddenly. Your breaths came in sharp gasps, eyes darting around the dimly lit apartment as figures loomed where they shouldn’t. Whispers curled around your ears, slithering beneath your skin.

Aizawa was there in an instant, crouching in front of you, his voice low and steady. “Alright, kid. What are five things you can see?”

You swallowed, forcing the words out. “The couch… the lamp… your scarf…” Your fingers trembled as you grasped onto reality. “The— the window. My hands.”

“Good,” Aizawa nodded. “Four things you can touch?”

“The blanket. The floor. My hoodie. Your sleeve.” Your grip tightened on the fabric of his shirt.

The exercise continued, grounding you bit by bit. The whispers faded. The shadows withdrew. The world stopped spinning.

A heavy silence followed, broken only by Aizawa’s quiet sigh. “You back?”

You nodded, exhausted but stable. Aizawa stood, stretching before nudging you lightly. “C’mon.”

“…Where?”

“The kitchen. You always made s’mores with your family when you needed comfort, right?” His voice was gruff but gentle. “Let’s make some.”

Your throat tightened. He remembered.

You followed him, watching as he gathered the ingredients. He handed you a marshmallow and a skewer. You lit the burner together, the soft glow casting warmth between you.

As the marshmallows browned, you found yourself speaking. Not much, just small things. Aizawa listened. He always did.