Class 1-A returned the next day. Aizawa came in behind them despite injuries that should have kept him flat on a hospital bed. Bandages wrapped his torso and neck. He ran the class anyway.
He told them the basics. Medical staff were available. Counseling was available if they needed it. The Sports Festival was happening. Training would continue. Nobody was getting special treatment because the world tried to kill them once and failed.
By ten, Khan's office light was on and his door was open. Uraraka knocked first..
"Come in."
She bowed a little too deep. "Good morning, Khan-sensei."
"Morning," he said. "Have a sit please."
She did. Hands folded. Back straight. Eyes bright.
"I wanted to thank you," she said. "For the other day. And for checking my ankle again. It's better."
"Good," Khan replied. "You still icing it?"
"Yes. And I stopped walking. I took the bus."
He smiled. "Miracles happen."
She laughed. The tension slid off her shoulders.
"I also had a question," she added. "About meal credits. If I don't use all of them, do they roll over?"
"They do."
"Oh." She hesitated. "Is it okay if I save some? For next month?"
"Yeah," Khan said. "They're yours."
She nodded, chewing on her lip. "I don't want to be greedy."
"Eating is not greed," he said. "It's maintenance."
She smiled, grateful. "Okay."
They talked for a few more minutes. Training schedule. Sleep. How Tsuyu kept checking on everyone and pretending she wasn't shaken. Uraraka didn't cry. She just needed to say it out loud and leave without feeling silly.
When she stood, she bowed again. Less deep this time.
"Thank you," she said. "Really."
"You're welcome," Khan replied. "Door's open."
She left lighter than she came in.
Khan rinsed his mug, refilled it with coffee.
Another knock came right after lunch.
"Come in."
Yaoyorozu Momo stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She stood near the chair, bag held in both hands, posture perfect.
Khan leaned against the desk. "Afternoon."
"Good afternoon," she said. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Anytime."
She took the chair after a pause. Sat with her knees together, hands on the bag, eyes already scanning the room. Filing cabinet. Window. Desk. Microwave in the corner. She recorded everything just as a habit.
Khan noticed and didn't comment.
"How can I help?" he asked.
She took a breath. "I'm not sure yet."
"Fair answer."
Her lips pressed together. "I was advised to come."
"You don't have to see this as an interrogation," Khan smiled at her. "Or some sign you're breaking apart. Sometimes talking helps. If you don't want to touch the incident, we can talk about other things. I'm here to listen."
Momo let out a breath she had been holding since she stepped inside. Her shoulders dropped a notch. She nodded.
"Thank you," she said. "I... appreciate that."
"Good," Khan replied. "Then we're already doing great."
She adjusted her grip on her bag and set it on the floor by her feet. She sat straight, posture drilled into her bones, but her fingers worried the seam of her skirt anyway.
Khan didn't rush her. He leaned back against the desk, arms loose at his sides, eyes on her face without pinning her in place.
"So," he said. "What's been rattling around up there?"
Momo opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
"I keep replaying it," she said. "Not the attack itself. The decisions. The pauses. Every time I stopped to think instead of act."
Khan nodded. He didn't interrupt.
"I know we survived," she continued. "I know nobody died. Everyone keeps saying that. But I can't stop thinking about what I could've done faster. Or better."
She looked down at her hands. Her nails were clean. She rubbed her thumb against her knuckle until the skin flushed.
"I had the materials," she said. "I had the knowledge. I could create almost anything. And still... I hesitated."
Khan pushed off the desk and took the chair across from her. He sat sideways, one arm draped over the backrest, keeping the space open.
"Can I ask you something," he said.
"Yes," she replied at once.
"Who taught you that hesitation means failure?"
She blinked. "I... I don't know."
"Sure you do," Khan said. "You're too sharp not to."
Momo frowned, thinking. Her gaze drifted to the window, then back.
"My family," she said quietly. "Tutors. Advisors. Investors. Everyone expected precision. If you move too fast and waste resources, you're reckless. If you move too slow, you're incompetent."
Khan snorted. "Sounds exhausting."
She gave a small smile that didn't last. "It is."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"You know what I saw at USJ," he said. "A kid under pressure making choices while half the world screamed at her.That's thinking not hesitation. "
Momo shook her head. "Heroes aren't supposed to stop and think. They're supposed to act."
"Heroes are supposed to survive," Khan replied. "And keep others alive. Thinking helps with both."
She hesitated. "But some of the others moved immediately. They didn't stop."
"And some of them almost got themselves killed," Khan said. "Speed without judgment is just panic with better PR."
Her lips pressed together. She didn't argue.
Khan continued, "You're used to rooms where mistakes cost money. In the field, mistakes cost blood. That weight doesn't disappear just because you put on a uniform."
She looked at him again. "Then why does it feel like I failed?"
"Because you're measuring yourself against an imaginary version of perfection," Khan said. "One that never existed."
Momo breathed out slowly. Her shoulders slumped, then straightened again out of habit.
"I keep thinking," she said, "if I were more confident, I wouldn't second guess myself."
Khan tilted his head. "Confidence doesn't erase doubt. It just lets you move with it."
She frowned. "That sounds... counterintuitive."
"Yeah," he said. "Most useful things are."
He leaned back, letting the chair creak.
"You're one of the smartest students in this building," he said. "That's not flattery. That's observable fact. But intelligence doesn't come with certainty. It comes with awareness of consequences."
Momo's fingers tightened on her skirt. "Sometimes I envy the others. They act first. They don't get stuck."
"They get stuck later," Khan replied. "Usually in recovery rooms."
That earned a quiet huff of laughter from her before she could stop it. She covered her mouth, embarrassed.
"Sorry."
"Don't be," he said. "If you can still laugh, you're doing okay."
She relaxed a little more into the chair.
"I know how my Quirk works," she said. "I know the formulas. The limits. The costs. And still, in the moment, my mind floods with options. Too many."
Khan nodded. "Analysis paralysis."
"Yes," she said quickly. "Exactly."
"Here's the part nobody tells you," Khan said. "That flood never goes away. You just learn which streams to dam and which ones to let run."
She looked up, attentive.
"You don't need fewer options," he continued. "You need priorities."
Momo tilted her head. "Such as?"
"Safety first," Khan said. "Yours first. You can't help anyone if you're not safe. Then control the space. Then support. Damage comes last."
She absorbed that, eyes narrowing in thought.
"I focused on weapons," she admitted. "Because that's what I can make fastest under stress."
"And that's fine," Khan said. "Weapons are tools. Tools don't make decisions. People do."
Her jaw tightened. "I was scared of making the wrong thing."
"Wrong doesn't always mean useless," Khan said. "Sometimes it just means imperfect."
She let that sit. Her shoulders eased again, posture less rigid now.
"My instructors always said," she began, then stopped. She shook her head. "Never mind."
Khan raised a brow. "Try me."
"They said failure reflects poor preparation," she said. "That if you plan well enough, failure shouldn't happen."
Khan laughed. "That's adorable."
Momo stared, startled.
"Sorry," he added. "I don't mean you. I mean that advice. It's great for boardrooms. Terrible for reality."
She smiled, tentative.
"You prepared," he said. "You adapted. You didn't freeze. That matters."
"But I wasn't decisive," she insisted.
"You were cautious," Khan replied. "There's a difference."
She looked unconvinced.
Khan leaned forward again. "Let me ask you this. If someone else in your class did exactly what you did, would you call them a failure?"
Momo's eyes widened. "Of course not."
"What would you call them," he asked.
She hesitated. "Careful. Responsible."
"There you go," Khan said. "Funny how standards shift when you turn them inward."
Her cheeks flushed. "I suppose."
"You hold yourself to rules nobody else has to follow," he went on. "That's punishment."
She swallowed.
"I don't mean to," she said.
"I know," Khan replied. "That's what makes it stick."
They sat quietly for a moment.
"I also keep thinking," Momo said, voice softer now, "that maybe I don't belong in the front lines. That maybe I'm better as support."
Khan studied her face.
"You say that as if it's a downgrade," he said.
She frowned. "Isn't it?"
"Support wins wars," Khan replied. "Front lines get the credit. Support keeps everyone alive long enough to earn it."
She considered that. "But heroes are supposed to be visible."
"Heroes are supposed to be effective," he said. "Visibility comes later."
Momo's grip on her skirt loosened.
"I don't want to disappoint anyone," she said.
Khan leaned back. "You already disappoint people. Daily."
Her eyes widened again. "I do?"
"Yeah," he said. "Anyone expecting you to be perfect is already disappointed. That's their problem."
She stared at him, then laughed outright this time, a soft burst that surprised her.
"That's... oddly reassuring."
"Anytime," Khan said.
She sobered again, though not as tightly as before.
"I keep thinking about leadership," she said. "People look to me. And I don't always know what to say."
"Good," Khan replied.
She blinked. "Good?"
"Leaders who always know what to say scare me," he said. "Means they're not listening."
Momo nodded slowly.
"You don't have to be loud," Khan added. "You don't have to be flashy. You just have to be honest when it counts."
She took that in, breathing steady now.
"I'm afraid of freezing again," she admitted. "Of wasting time."
"Then practice choosing," Khan said.
She tilted her head. "How?"
"Set rules for yourself," he replied. "Simple ones. If A happens, do B. Don't second guess in the moment. Review later."
Momo's eyes lit up. "Decision trees."
"Exactly."
She smiled, real and bright this time.
He stood and crossed to the whiteboard mounted on the wall. Picked up a marker.
"Homework," he said, writing as he spoke. "Three scenarios. Build response trees. No more than five steps each."
She watched him write, nodding along.
"This helps," she said. "A lot."
"Good," Khan replied. "That's the job."
She stood, smoothing her skirt, posture still proper but not stiff.
"Thank you for listening," she said. "I feel... clearer."
He waved a hand. "That's what happens when smart people stop beating themselves up for five minutes."
She smiled at that.
At the door, she paused and turned back.
"Khan-sensei?"
"Yeah?"
"If I come back," she said, "it won't be because I failed. Just... to talk."
"Door's still open," he replied. "Failure not required."
She nodded and stepped out.
The door clicked shut.
Khan sat back down and rubbed his face.
Smart. Careful. Too hard on herself.
He liked those. They bent slowly. They broke quietly. And when they leaned on someone, they leaned all the way.
He glanced at the counseling queue again.
Plenty of work left.
He smiled and reached for his coffee.
**-**
This novel is completed. I'm currently editing the chapters and uploading them to Patreon. If you'd like to read the full novel and support my work, feel free to check it out. Available up to Chapter 50 so far.
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