MHA: Echoes of the Breach

Shinji hesitated for a moment, his hand still on the door as his eyes locked on Yu standing near the front gate. Her presence was striking, a mixture of calm and resolve radiating from her stance. She hadn't seen him yet, her head tilted slightly as she observed the campus grounds with an expression that was difficult to read.

Taking a steadying breath, Shinji stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind him. The air was cool and carried a faint breeze, a stark contrast to the tension still lingering in his chest. Each step toward Yu felt heavier than the last, but he pushed forward.

As he got closer, Yu's gaze shifted to him. Her eyes softened, a small, knowing smile appearing on her lips. "There you are," she said, her voice carrying the same reassuring tone he remembered.

Shinji stopped a few feet away, his hand shoved deep into his pocket. "Hey," he muttered, not quite meeting her eyes.

Yu stepped forward slowly, her gaze softening as she observed the exhaustion and tension in her younger brother. She gently reached out, her hand hovering just an inch from his arm before she spoke, her voice full of quiet regret.

Shinji's fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, the tension in his body slowly easing at her words. He could feel his pulse still unsteady, but something about her presence helped to ground him. He offered her a small, somewhat strained smile, trying to hide the weight of the day.

"Sorry I couldn't be there for your first day, Shinji," she said, her tone both apologetic and reassuring. "Villains get really active around the start of school, something about heroes wanting to see the new generation. Which draws them from work." 

"It's fine," he said quietly, his gaze lowering to the ground for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I know you're busy, I understand."

She offers help then doesn't show.

The thought felt like a betrayal, an insult, he slammed it down almost immediately. He clenched his left fist, the leather of his bag strap cutting into his hand as he breathed in sharply, willing the heat of his temper to fade. Focus, he told himself. You're better than this. She has a life, it doesn't revolve around you. 

The anger didn't completely dissipate, but he buried it deep, focusing instead on the rhythm of his steps as he walked beside Yu. He could feel the quiet, calm presence of his sister next to him, and with every step, the storm in his mind began to subside, replaced by the familiar weight of her concern.

Yu let out a dry chuckle, though there was a note of irritation beneath it. "At least you do," she said, shaking her head. "My date was mad I had to cancel. Like it's my fault villains exist, tch."

She sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her lips quirking into a humorless smile. "Seriously, I'm out there trying to stop someone from leveling half a city block, and they're upset I didn't show up to dinner on time. Priorities, right?"

Shinji glanced at her, a faint flicker of amusement breaking through his otherwise guarded expression. "You have the worst luck with people."

Me included

"Tell me about it," Yu replied, rolling her eyes. "It's like they don't realize what 'pro hero' actually means. Saving lives doesn't exactly come with a nine-to-five schedule."

Her tone was light, but there was an edge of weariness to it, a reminder of how much she carried on her shoulders. For a moment, Shinji's anger and frustration ebbed, replaced by a pang of sympathy. As much as he struggled, Yu's life wasn't exactly a walk in the park either.

"Well," he said after a pause, his voice quieter, "thanks for being here, even with all that going on."

She smiled at him, the warmth in her expression chasing away the bitterness from her earlier complaint. "Hey, you're my little brother. Villains or not, you're worth showing up for."

"I, uh, taught my first class today," Shinji said, breaking the silence as they walked.

Yu's eyebrows lifted in surprise, and she glanced at him with a curious smile. "Oh? That was today, how did it go?

Shinji hesitated, shoving his hand twitching lightly as he stood with Yu near the school gate. "It was... fine, I think. I told them they should only fight kaiju as a last resort, and I started teaching them how to pick apart their opponent." He paused, glancing at her with a hint of uncertainty. "Though... I did show them a kaiju."

Yu raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a faint smile. Though he could hear the concern in her voice as she spoke. "You showed them a kaiju? That's one way to get their attention," she teased lightly. "How did they take it?"

"They handled it better than I expected, actually," Shinji admitted, shifting his weight. "There was some nervous energy, but they listened. It felt... weird, though. Like I was just talking at them and not really connecting."

Yu's expression softened as she nodded. "Teaching's not easy, Shinji. But the fact that they listened means you're already making an impact." She looked thoughtful for a moment before brightening. "Tell you what, there's a café nearby. Why don't we head over and grab something to eat? You can tell me all about it there."

Shinji blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the suggestion, but then gave a small nod. "Yeah... okay. That sounds good."

"Great." Yu started walking, motioning for him to follow. "I've been meaning to check this place out anyway. It's supposed to have the best coffee in the area."

"So, how did you handle the kaiju?" Yu asked after a moment of silence as they walked, her tone laced with both curiosity and concern.

Shinji glanced at her, then back down at the ground as he walked. "It was... okay, more or less," he said with a shrug that felt heavier than it should have. "Probably would've gone better if I didn't pick one I had experience with." He paused, his brow furrowing as the memory resurfaced. "I'm not even sure how I got it into the program without... without having an episode."

Yu's steps slowed as she processed his words, her gaze turning toward him with a mix of worry and thoughtfulness. "Do you think your... episode in the cafeteria could've been avoided if you hadn't chosen that kaiju you knew?"

Shinji stiffened slightly, his gaze dropping to the ground. The question hit harder than he expected, and his jaw tightened as he mulled it over. "Maybe," he admitted after a moment, his voice low and strained. "I don't know. It's possible, but it's not like I went into this thinking, 'Hey, let's see how much I can handle before I break.'"

Yu's expression softened, and she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, making him stop. "I know you didn't, Shinji. But you're still dealing with a lot. Maybe putting yourself in situations like that... maybe it's too much right now."

He exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and resignation in the sound. "It's not like I planned for the alarms to go off. That wasn't exactly part of the lesson. I thought I was fine. I mean, I was fine until I wasn't." He looked at her, his brow furrowed. "You think I wanted to fall apart in front of everyone?"

"I know you didn't," she said softly, her voice steady. "But you don't have to prove anything to anyone, Shinji. Not to your students, not to me, not even to yourself. You're allowed to take things slow."

"I don't want to take things slow," he muttered, kicking at a loose pebble on the ground. "I want to move past this, Yu. I'm tired of being... this." He gestured vaguely to himself, his frustration bubbling over.

Yu stayed quiet for a moment, letting his words settle between them. Then she spoke, her tone firm but understanding. "Shinji, you've been through things most people couldn't even imagine surviving. It's going to take time. And pushing yourself too hard isn't moving past it, it's burying it. That doesn't work. Trust me, I've seen it before."

Shinji lowered his gaze, Yu's words echoing in his mind. She said it took time. But did he really have that luxury? Time felt like a resource he couldn't afford, a fleeting thing that slipped through his fingers no matter how tightly he tried to hold on. What if he snapped while he was piloting one of his Jaegers? The thought alone made his stomach churn.

He clenched his left hand, the only one that listened to him anymore. The punch he'd thrown at Kirishima replayed in his mind, a sickening loop he couldn't stop. That single blow had been bad enough, but what if it had been worse? What if he'd been inside a Jaeger, its colossal power amplifying every movement? The thought of what could have happened sent a shiver down his spine.

It wasn't just about him. The danger wasn't confined to his own pain or fear, it extended to the people around him. His team, his students, and anyone who might be in the wrong place at the wrong time if he lost control again.

"Shinji?" Yu's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, grounding him just enough to pull him back.

He looked at her, startled, realizing he'd been silent for too long. She was watching him closely, her brows knit with concern.

"You okay?" she asked gently, though her tone carried an edge of knowing.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to nod. "Yeah... just thinking."

Yu didn't look convinced, but she didn't press him. Instead, she nudged his shoulder lightly. "Come on, let's get something to eat. Maybe some sugar will help clear your head."

He managed a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

Yu led the way to the café, her pace relaxed but purposeful. She seemed to sense Shinji's need for space, keeping her chatter to a minimum as they moved through the quiet streets. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of flowers from nearby planters, but it did little to settle the unease knotting Shinji's chest.

The café wasn't far, a cozy little spot tucked into the corner of a street, its windows glowing warmly against the darkening sky. The sign above the door read Sweet Haven, and through the glass, Shinji could see a few patrons seated at small wooden tables, their conversations soft and unobtrusive.

Yu held the door open for him, gesturing for him to enter first. "Pick us a spot. I'll grab the menu."

Shinji stepped inside, the gentle hum of conversation and the clink of cups against saucers washing over him. He chose a corner table near the window, where the light was softer and the view offered a distraction. As he sat down, his thoughts returned to their earlier conversation.

The punch. The alarms. The fear. It was all still so raw, like an open wound that refused to heal. His mind wandered back to Kirishima's face, his shock, then back to the long-dead kaiju he showed his class. He clenched his fist under the table, a small, futile gesture to keep the memories at bay.

Yu returned a moment later, setting the menu down with a light tap. She sat across from him, her expression calm but watchful. "I've heard they have some good desserts here," she said, sliding the menu toward him. "I'd recommend the matcha cake. Or the éclairs, if you're feeling fancy."

Shinji glanced at the menu but didn't really read it. His mind was too loud, the weight of his earlier thoughts pressing down on him.

Yu seemed to notice his hesitation. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. "Hey," she said softly. "You don't have to act like everything's fine. I know it's not."

Shinji looked up, his brows furrowing. "It's not about pretending. I just..." He trailed off, his hand tightening into a fist again. "I don't even know where to start."

"Then don't start," she said, her tone steady. "Just talk. Whatever's on your mind."

Shinji paused, his gaze distant, as if trying to reach for something just beyond his grasp. The words seemed to spill out before he could stop them, his voice quiet but steady. "The kaiju I showed them today... It was one of the closest times I've come to dying, officially, I guess. I mean… just being in that place, I don't know if that counts, but I still haven't seen my logs. I remember bits and pieces though."

He took a deep breath, his left hand unconsciously gripping the edge of the table. "It was the kaiju I bit, I think I told you about that before... I used the last of my fuel to set it on fire, and even then, I didn't let up. I couldn't. I was sure it was dead, there was no way it could have survived after that, but then... just as I stepped back, its tail went right through Striker's visor. If I hadn't moved... it would've killed me."

Shinji's voice grew a little more strained as the memory replayed itself in his mind. "I yelled, and the tip of its tail, thankfully, it was just flesh and bone by then, not the spike, pushed farther into Striker's cockpit. I... I slammed my mouth shut, trying to regain control of the Jaeger, but I was still too close, and I ended up tearing through some of its flesh as I backed off."

"It tasted... odd, and on the bad side," Shinji continued, his voice almost mechanical as he spoke. He looked down at the table, his fingers absently tracing the edges of his cup. "And its blood burned like hell. I swear, I thought my mouth was gonna melt. The heat, the taste, it didn't feel... real. It just felt like I was drowning in it."

He stopped, feeling the weight of the words hang in the air. His heart started to race again, his throat tightening. His mind screamed at him to stop talking, to keep it in, to not burden anyone with the truth. You're rambling. Just shut up. Stop talking about it. But it kept spilling out like he couldn't hold it back anymore. You shouldn't be saying this. Why are you saying this?

Shinji shook his head slightly, rubbing his temples as if trying to rid himself of the thoughts. It doesn't feel right to tell anyone else these things. You should keep them locked away. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to stop, and the words just kept pouring out.

"Sorry. I... I know I'm rambling," he muttered, his voice a little quieter. "It's just... hard to not think about it. To not feel like it's still there. But it doesn't make sense, does it?" He exhaled slowly, the frustration in his voice clear, as though just saying it out loud made it worse.

Yu didn't interrupt, simply watching him with soft eyes, her expression filled with understanding. She knew how much Shinji was holding back, how much he kept locked inside, and how difficult it must have been for him to speak so openly, even though he clearly didn't want to.

"It's okay," she said gently, her voice soothing despite the heaviness in the air. "You don't need to apologize for talking about it, Shinji. I know it's not easy to share these things, especially when it feels like you're carrying so much on your own." She paused, allowing the silence to settle for a moment. "But you don't have to carry it all by yourself. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the weight of her words settle on him, but also the weight of everything else still bubbling under the surface. He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear those words until they were out there, filling the space between them. But that didn't make it any easier.

"I... I don't even know what to do with all of this," Shinji said, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain. "The anger, the guilt... it's like it's stuck in me, and every time I try to move past it, it just pulls me right back." He swallowed, his chest tightening again. "I keep thinking that if I just... forget about it, it'll go away. But I know that's not how it works."

Yu reached over and placed a hand on his, a gentle gesture that made his stomach twist in an unfamiliar way. The touch was grounding, but at the same time, it reminded him of everything he couldn't control. He pulled his hand away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

"I hate this," Shinji muttered, his voice thick with frustration. "It's like everyone's treating me like I'm some kind of ticking bomb. I keep messing things up, and all I wanted was a break... a moment to just not think about everything. You didn't deserve this. You just wanted to have some time away from work, and I... I ruin it, just by being here."

Yu's expression softened at his words, her brow furrowing slightly as she leaned in a little closer. She could see the storm of emotions in his eyes, the frustration, the guilt, the sense of inadequacy that clung to him like a second skin. She knew how badly he hated feeling like a burden, like a danger to everyone around him, even though none of it was his fault.

"Shinji," she said quietly, her voice gentle but firm. "You didn't ruin anything. Not at all." She reached out again, this time placing a hand on his arm, her grip steady and reassuring. "You're not a landmine. You're just... you. And you've been through things that no one should ever have to go through. But that doesn't mean you're a burden, and it doesn't mean you don't deserve to have moments where you can just... be."

Her words seemed to settle over him like a soft blanket, but the tight knot in his chest remained. He couldn't just let it go that easily. He didn't feel like he deserved any of this, this kindness, this moment. His eyes flickered to the table for a moment, but he found no comfort there.

"I don't know what to do anymore," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Every time I think I'm handling it, it's like I'm one step away from losing control. One more thing, and I'll break. It's like I can never move forward. I don't even know if I can make it through a day without screwing it up."

Yu was silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on him as though weighing her next words carefully. When she spoke again, it was without hesitation, her voice calm but filled with a quiet strength.

"You don't have to handle it all at once, Shinji. Nobody does. I know it feels like you have to keep pushing, keep going, like you're constantly fighting to stay afloat. But... you don't have to be perfect. You just have to keep trying. And even if you fall, even if you mess up, that doesn't change who you are. You're still worthy of having a chance to be happy, a chance to heal. That's not something you lose."

Shinji closed his eyes, a deep breath escaping him as if he were trying to breathe through the weight of it all. He felt the familiar tightness in his chest, but this time, it wasn't as suffocating. Yu's words were like a lifeline, something to hold onto in the middle of his storm.

He didn't respond right away, but he finally looked up at her, his gaze searching for something in hers. "I hate that it feels like I'm always... like I'm always dragging people down. You already do enough. You shouldn't have to keep dealing with me."

Yu's lips parted, but before she could respond, Shinji stood up abruptly, pacing a little as his thoughts seemed to take over again. The words, the frustration, they all spilled out, one after another like he couldn't stop them from rushing forward.

"I hate this," he muttered, his voice low but edged with something raw. "I keep messing up, over and over again. Every time I think I'm getting better, I do something like today, or... or like in the hospital. It's like I'm not in control of myself. And I keep thinking, what if I really hurt someone? What if I hurt you?" He stopped, turning to face her, his expression darkened with self-loathing. "You deserve better than someone like me, someone who can't even keep it together. I'm scared, Yu. I'm scared that I'm gonna lose it."

The words hung heavy in the air, a confession of the fears that had been buried deep inside him for so long. He didn't expect her to have an answer. He didn't even expect her to say anything at all. But what he did expect was for her to judge him, to tell him to figure it out, to push him away.

He wanted her too.

The words hung heavy in the air, a confession of the fears that had been buried deep inside him for so long. He didn't expect her to have an answer. He didn't even expect her to say anything at all. But what he did expect was for her to judge him, to tell him to figure it out, to push him away.

But instead, Yu wrapped him in a hug. It was gentle, not the kind of hug that demanded anything in return, but one that simply enveloped him with warmth and understanding. Her arms were firm around him, as though holding him up just for a moment, grounding him when he felt like he was unraveling.

For a heartbeat, Shinji froze, his body stiff as he fought against the flood of emotions he had kept bottled up for so long. He didn't know how to react. But then, he allowed himself to relax into the embrace, his tense muscles slowly unclenching as he let her words sink in.

"You're not a bomb, Shinji," she murmured softly, her voice steady and comforting. "And you're not ruining anything just by being here. You're allowed to have bad days. You're allowed to struggle. But that doesn't mean you're a burden."

Shinji's breath hitched, the warmth of her hug pulling at something deep inside him. He didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve to be treated like he wasn't a risk to everyone around him. But she didn't let him pull away, didn't let him retreat into himself. She just held him.

"I just… I don't know how to make it stop," he admitted, his voice quiet and strained. "I keep going, but it feels like I'm walking on the edge of something, like one wrong move and it all falls apart."

Yu didn't let go, didn't step back. Instead, she tightened her grip slightly, her voice calm and reassuring. "Then let it fall apart, Shinji. But you don't have to do it alone. You have people who care, people who want to help, even if you can't see it right now. You don't have to have all the answers."

The words felt like a lifeline, something he could hold onto when everything else felt so uncertain. The weight of it all didn't vanish, but it didn't feel so suffocating with her holding him.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice thick but sincere. "I… I don't know what I'd do without you."

Yu pulled back just slightly, enough to meet his gaze. A small smile curved her lips, a mixture of reassurance and something more tender. "You'll never have to find out. You're not alone, Shinji. Not ever."

Shinji blinked, a hint of surprise crossing his features before he followed her gaze. They had attracted the attention of a few passersby, their curious glances clearly drawn to the intimate moment that had just unfolded in the middle of the Cafe.

"I suggest we sit down though, we're starting to get weird looks," Yu said, her tone shifting slightly, playful yet still carrying that undercurrent of concern.

Shinji managed a small, sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Right. Good idea."

She guided him toward a nearby bench under the shade of a tree, the world around them fading into the background as they sat down. Shinji felt a strange sense of relief, the weight on his shoulders lessening in the quiet moment, his gaze momentarily drifting to the ground as he tried to gather his thoughts.

Yu sat beside him, her presence steady and comforting, like a silent promise that she would be there for as long as he needed. The tension in his chest slowly ebbed away, though a part of him remained alert, still processing everything he had just shared.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Yu asked after a few moments of silence, her voice soft but sincere. "Anything else on your mind?"

Shinji shifted slightly, his gaze drifting as he thought about what he wanted to say next. It was a fleeting hesitation, but it felt like something he wanted to say, not a need. "Always is... but can I talk about something from… my time again?"

Shinji looked at the ground, his fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of his sleeve. "I mentioned them in one of my logs, I think. Those weird deer things? They were six-legged, really fast, and they could climb these massive trees like it was nothing. Every time I saw them, it was like watching something out of a nightmare, so alien, but... so real, too."

He paused, trying to organize his thoughts. "The craziest part? They could move faster than anything I'd ever seen. They weren't like the usual creatures I encountered. They'd dart through the forest, weaving between the trees without breaking a sweat. It was like they had the world mapped out, knowing exactly how to use the environment to their advantage. I could barely keep up just trying to track them."

Yu listened attentively, her expression thoughtful, giving him the space to continue without interruption.

Shinji let out a quiet sigh, a faint, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. "But when you finally caught one, it was... worth it. Even in that place, I actually looked forward to those moments when I could hunt them down. My sense of taste's been kind of messed up since I've been back, so it might just be in my head, but those things actually tasted good. Not something I'd want to eat every day, but it was... something I could eat, you know? A rare kind of meal. But that was only if I could actually catch them."

His smile faded as he continued, voice laced with frustration. "The problem was, they were damn fast. The only way I could reliably catch one was by throwing something to distract them. And even then, it was like they could sense my intent before I even made a move." 

He shrugged, his expression softening a bit. "Outsmart isn't really the word I'd use. It was more like brute force and a lot of luck. Most of the time, all I had to throw were rocks, big ones. They had to be big enough for Striker to get a proper grip on, and when you're in something like that, 'big' is relative. The problem was, if the rock hit, it'd just paste the things, so there wasn't much left to actually eat."

Shinji's faint smile turned wry as he continued. "It felt counterproductive, you know? Like I'd just ruin the very thing I was trying so hard to get. Sometimes, if I was lucky, I'd manage to graze one just enough to slow it down, but even then, I'd have to move fast before it recovered or bolted up one of those massive trees like gravity didn't apply to them."

Yu raised an eyebrow, her smile widening a little. "Gravity-defying deer that are smart enough to sense your intent and fast enough to outrun a Jaeger... You're sure you didn't bring one back as a pet?"

Shinji let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "I don't even think I'd be able to keep up with one of those things outside of that place. Besides, I'm pretty sure they'd figure out how to open doors and leave the moment I looked away. They were survivors, through and through."

Yu's gaze softened as she watched him. "It sounds like they were a challenge, but one you respected. And... maybe even one that gave you some sense of normalcy. Something familiar to focus on when everything else was chaos."

He hesitated at her words, his faint smile fading into something quieter, more introspective. "Yeah," he admitted after a moment. "Maybe that's why I can't stop thinking about them. They were one of the few things that felt... real. Tangible, even when everything else wasn't. Like I said, they weren't just food. They were something to chase. A reason to keep moving."

Yu placed a hand lightly on his arm, her touch gentle and steady. "And you found a way, Shinji. Even there, you kept moving forward. That says a lot about who you are, more than you might realize."

Shinji glanced at her hand on his arm, the weight of her words settling over him like a comforting blanket. He took a slow breath, letting it out as he leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting toward the window. "I don't know," he said softly, his tone contemplative. "Sometimes it feels less like moving forward and more like running. Like if I stop, it'll all catch up with me, and I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Yu's expression didn't waver, her voice steady but kind. "You don't have to face it all at once. You've been through more than anyone should ever have to, and it's okay to feel like you're still figuring things out. But running forever? That's not you, Shinji. You're stronger than that."

He frowned slightly, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. "You sound so sure, but I'm not. I don't even know who I'm supposed to be anymore. Out there, in that place, everything was clear, survive, fight, keep going. Here? It's... messier."

"That's because surviving isn't the same as living," Yu said, her tone gentle but firm. "And now that you're back, you're learning how to live again. It's not easy, and it's not supposed to be. But you're doing it, one step at a time. And I'm here to help you, every step of the way."

Shinji looked back at her, his expression softening, though a hint of vulnerability lingered in his eyes. "You make it sound like I've already started to figure it out."

"You have," she said with a smile, giving his arm a light squeeze. "Every time you talk about what happened, every time you let yourself feel something, even the bad stuff, you're moving forward. It might not feel like it, but you are. And I'm proud of you for that."

Her words brought a small, genuine smile to his face, though it was fleeting. "Thanks, Yu," he said quietly. "I don't know if I can believe it yet, but... thanks."

"You don't have to believe it all at once," she said with a reassuring nod. "Just don't stop. Keep chasing those moments, like you did with those deer things. You'll find your footing, Shinji. I know you will."

Shinji hesitated, his faint smile fading into a quieter, more introspective expression. "I keep telling myself I can move past it," he said, his voice low. "But every time I try, something pulls me back. Another episode, someone saying the wrong thing... or that godforsaken thing."

Yu's brows knit together as she studied him, her concern evident. "The Thing?" she repeated softly, her voice tinged with unease. "You mean that thing you see?"

Shinji hesitated before giving a small nod. "Yeah... but not since the start of school," he admitted quietly. "It's like it's waiting, or maybe it just got tired of me. I don't know."

Her fingers tightened slightly around his hand, offering silent support. "When was the last time?" she asked gently, her voice steady despite the unease that flickered in her eyes.

"As school ended on the first day," Shinji began, his gaze drifting to the side, avoiding Yu's eyes. "One of my classmates... They said something. Just a few words, but it was enough. I felt it egging me on, pushing me, like it was whispering in the back of my head, telling me to lash out."

He clenched his fists on the table, his knuckles whitening. "And I did," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "Nothing happened, not really, but I lost control. It was in one of the training grounds." He hesitated, the memory replaying in his mind. "No one was hurt, except... well, the ground."

Shinji let out a bitter chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "I just... lashed out. It felt like all that noise in my head, all that tension, finally boiled over, and I couldn't hold it back anymore. The Specter kept pushing, egging me on, like it wanted to see how far I'd go."

Yu tilted her head, her concern clear. "What did you do, Shinji?"

"Nothing! I swear, I didn't, nothing happened, okay? I just... I fought it, alright? Like a sparring match or something! That's all!" The words tumbled out of Shinji's mouth in a hurried stream, his voice growing quieter and faster, almost blending into a mumble. "It's not like anything got hurt, I mean, you can't hurt something that doesn't exist, right? I just, I don't know, it was there, and I couldn't stop myself, and then, "

He broke off, his hand gripping his knee tightly as if to anchor himself. His gaze darted to the table, then to the floor, anywhere but at Yu. "I know it sounds stupid," he continued, his voice faltering but refusing to stop. "I know it's not real, but it felt real, and I just, what was I supposed to do? Stand there and let it keep pushing me, keep, keep watching me like that? I couldn't. I had to do something, even if it was... even if it was nothing."

Shinji finally stopped, his breathing uneven, the silence that followed his rambling feeling heavier than his words.

Yu sat silently for a moment, letting his words hang in the air. Her gaze softened as she watched him, her expression more thoughtful than concerned. She didn't interrupt, allowing Shinji the space to speak, to get it all out, knowing how difficult it was for him to even begin to voice his struggles.

When he finally stopped, her voice was steady, grounded. "Shinji," she began, her tone calm but firm. "You're not crazy. You're not weak. It's okay to not have control sometimes. You're carrying a lot, and that thing in your head, it's not you. It's something you're fighting, and I can see how hard you're trying not to let it win. But you don't have to fight it alone. Not anymore."

Shinji's head snapped up at her words, but before he could speak, she gently placed a hand on his.

"Whatever that thing is, whatever it's trying to make you feel, it's not you. You're still here, still trying to be better. That says more than you think."

He stared at her hand for a long moment, the tension in his body slowly easing. Despite himself, he found it hard to breathe out, to relax fully. But her words, soft, real, began to sink in, slowly peeling away the sharp edges of his thoughts.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice still rough. "I guess... I guess I'll just keep trying."

Yu gave a slight nod, her hand remaining on his as a quiet anchor. "That's all any of us can do."

Time had slipped by almost unnoticed as they sat in the small café, the outside world fading into the background of their conversation. Eventually, Yu glanced at the clock and let out a small sigh. "We should get going," she said gently, her voice carrying a quiet insistence.

Shinji nodded, rising from his seat and slinging his bag over his shoulder. The soft scrape of the chair against the floor seemed louder in the stillness between them. Yu stood as well, her movements unhurried, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before they stepped out into the cool embrace of the evening.

The walk back to the school was calm, the late sun painting the world in golden hues. Long shadows stretched across the pavement as the light began to dim, the sounds of the day giving way to the quiet murmur of an approaching night. Yu walked beside Shinji, her stride naturally falling in sync with his. She stayed close enough to be reassuring, yet gave him just enough space to process whatever thoughts were swirling in his mind.

Shinji broke the silence first, his voice quiet and measured. "Thanks for walking me back. You didn't have to."

Yu glanced at him, a small smile softening her expression. "Of course I did. Besides, I wanted to. You've had a long day." She paused, her smile growing a touch playful. "Plus, my car's outside the school anyway. Don't think you're that special."

He gave a small, almost amused huff, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Right. Guess I'll take what I can get."

"Smart choice," Yu teased lightly, her tone warm. "But seriously, Shinji, it's no trouble. Walking with you is the least I can do."

As they approached the small house nestled next to the dorms, the quiet buzz of the school grounds hummed in the distance. The sun had begun to dip lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the scene calm and unassuming.

Shinji slowed his pace as they reached the door, turning to Yu with a quiet nod. "Well... this is it. Thanks again for coming all this way."

Yu waved a hand dismissively, her smile still present but softer now. "You make it sound like it was some grand trek. It's just a walk, Shinji. Besides, I wanted to see how my little brother was doing at school."

He hesitated for a moment as if considering his words. "I'm fine. Really," he said, though his voice held that subtle crack of uncertainty he couldn't quite mask. "You don't have to worry so much."

Her expression softened further, and she reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "You don't have to carry everything alone, you know. You've got me... and others. Don't shut us out, okay?"

Shinji gave a faint smile, looking down. "I'll try."

"That's all I ask," she said warmly. "Now, get some rest. And don't stay up all night."

"Yeah, I got it," he replied, watching as she gave a final wave and headed toward her car, the sound of her heels clicking softly against the pavement fading as she walked away.

Shinji lingered at the door for a moment, the weight of the day still pressing on him but feeling just a little lighter. With a quiet sigh, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him and letting the stillness of his small home envelop him.