Kacchan didn't talk to me at school the next day. He glared, sulked, threw looks my way when he thought I wasn't watching. I knew he was mad, but mostly, I think he was scared. So was I.
After school, he found me behind the gym. "You're not allowed to die again," he said, fists clenched at his sides. "Not while I'm around."
I tried to smile. "I'll be careful. I promise."
He wouldn't look at me. "Your quirk… it's not fair. You get to come back. The rest of us don't."
I understood, maybe for the first time, how lonely it was to be different. But I also knew I couldn't do this alone.
"We make each other better," I said quietly. "That's how heroes are supposed to work."
He snorted, but I saw his lips twitch. "Dumb nerd."
We trained softer that day, practicing teamwork instead of going all out. We laughed when we messed up, and for a while, it was just us—two kids dreaming of being heroes.
At home, I wrote down everything I could remember about the day, scared of losing any more pieces. Kacchan's words echoed in my head, a promise I wanted to keep: Don't die. Don't forget. Keep fighting.