Mailin’s POV

The chaos that unfolded at the training camp still lingers in the air, like a storm that’s passed but left destruction in its wake. My heart feels heavy as I walk through the remnants of the forest, stepping carefully around the charred remains of trees and the scattered debris from the attack.

Shota is already at the scene, helping Class 1-B students to safety. His sharp eyes are scanning the area, always alert, always focused, and despite everything, a part of me feels comforted just seeing him. I follow closely behind, my own nerves on edge as I help students onto the buses, watching the medics rush to the injured.

“Mailin, help me with this one.” Shota’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I move to help him carry one of the students who is more seriously injured. Together, we manage to get them to safety, but the tension between us is palpable.

I can tell that he’s worried about more than just the students. He’s concerned about Katsuki, about the broader implications of this attack. And so am I.

When we finally catch our breath, I take his hand, squeezing it gently. “They’re going to be okay, Shota. You’ve trained them well.”

He gives me a brief nod, but I can see the weight in his eyes. The weight of failure. Despite all our efforts, Katsuki has been captured.

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Mailin’s POV - The Emergency Meeting

The day after the attack feels surreal. The medical teams worked through the night, and the authorities moved quickly to arrest some of the villains, but that doesn't erase the ache in my chest. Twenty-seven students injured, one missing, Katsuki—taken. I watch Shota closely during the emergency meeting, his expression stony but his eyes revealing just how deeply this cuts him.

I sit beside him, my presence meant to offer him support, but I can feel the tension radiating from every teacher in the room. Principal Nezu is speaking, his voice measured, but I can sense the worry beneath his calm demeanor.

"We’ve become soft," Snipe mutters, voicing what we all know but haven’t wanted to admit. The peaceful times have dulled our edge, and now we’re paying the price.

Shota shifts slightly beside me, his arms crossed tightly. He hasn’t said much since the attack, but I can see the storm brewing beneath the surface. His frustration with the villains, with himself, is eating away at him.

When Present Mic mentions the traitor, I tense. The idea that someone close to us could have betrayed U.A. is chilling. But Nezu dismisses the idea quickly, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief. Mistrust would only tear us apart right now.

The tension is broken by All Might’s phone ringing, and he steps out to take the call. The rest of us sit in uncomfortable silence, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air. I reach out under the table, resting my hand on Shota’s knee. He glances at me, his expression softening for just a moment before his focus snaps back to the meeting.

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Shota’s POV - The Public Apology

Standing in front of the cameras is never easy. I’ve always hated the media, the way they twist and distort things, making a spectacle of real pain. But today, it’s necessary. We failed to protect our students, and the world needs answers. Mailin stands just out of view, watching me with quiet concern. Knowing she’s there helps ground me, but it doesn’t make this any easier.

As Principal Nezu addresses the reporters, I remain silent, arms crossed as I listen. It’s difficult to hear the questions, the accusations, the doubts about our ability to protect our students. I can feel the anger simmering beneath the surface, but I keep it in check. Mailin’s presence reminds me to stay calm, to focus on what’s important.

The tension spikes when one of the reporters brings up Katsuki. They question whether his aggressive behavior at the Sports Festival indicated mental instability, whether we failed him as teachers. I can feel the reporter’s words poking at an old wound, and I grit my teeth.

Beside me, Vlad King tenses, clearly worried that I might snap. But I won’t give them that satisfaction.

“I apologize,” I say, my voice steady but firm, “for not taming Katsuki’s violent behavior. But let me be clear—his behavior isn’t a sign of villainy. It’s a reflection of his relentless drive to be the best hero. And if the villains think they can turn him, they’re gravely mistaken.”

I glance at Mailin as I speak, finding strength in her quiet support. She knows how much this weighs on me, and I can see the pride in her eyes as I stand firm against the media’s insinuations.

Nezu follows up with reassurances about our collaboration with the Police Force to recover Katsuki, but I can still feel the doubt in the air. No matter what we say, the truth is we failed. And it’s going to take more than words to fix that.

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Mailin’s POV - Quiet Support

After the public apology, I catch up to Shota, resting my hand on his arm. The tension from the press conference is still heavy in the air, but he’s handled it with his usual calm.

“You did well,” I tell him softly, my thumb brushing lightly over his wrist.

Shota sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly now that we’re out of the public eye. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

I step closer, looking up at him. “You were honest. That’s all we can be right now.”

He meets my gaze, and for a moment, the weight of everything seems to lift. “Thanks, Mailin.”

I smile, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “We’ll get him back, Shota. We won’t stop until he’s safe.”

He pulls me into a brief but tight hug, his face buried in my shoulder. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability, but it reminds me just how much he carries on his shoulders—and how important it is for me to be there to share the burden.