The boys and girls emerged from their respective hot springs, the laughter and warmth between them as soothing as the gentle mist rising from the pools. It was a rare, blissful moment of peace, where for a fleeting time, even Ochaco could almost forget the lingering trauma of the war that had shaped them all.

But peace never lasts.

Third-Person & Deku POV (Switching):

"Deku!" Ochaco's face lit up when she saw him waiting in the lobby. She hurried to slip on her coat, practically bouncing on her feet.

"Hi, Uraraka," Deku greeted her warmly, tilting his head. "Did you have fun?"

"Mhm!" She beamed, her eyes glowing brighter than the lamps lining the hallway.

The two walked out together into the brisk night, assuring their friends they'd return soon. The others nodded and piled into their respective cars, leaving the duo in the soft, eerie quiet of the hotel grounds.

"Deku," Ochaco began, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "I wanted to ask you something."

"What's on your mind?" Deku's tone softened as he noticed the flicker of uncertainty in her expression.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing against each other. "Do you ever feel... strange? Like something's off, or like the same moment keeps happening over and over again?"

Deku furrowed his brow, mulling over her words. "No, I haven't felt anything weird since game night at the hotel. I mean... we've only been out of town for two days. Do you think..." His eyes widened slightly as a thought hit him. "Wait, are you sick?"

"No!" Ochaco quickly protested, though the faintest edge of doubt wavered in her voice. "At least, I don't think so... but do I seem like I am?"

Deku shook his head. "Not at all. But if you're feeling this way—"

He stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing as a chill raced up his spine.

"Ochaco..." His voice was tight, the warmth draining from his tone.

"What is it?"

"...Have we... been here before?"

Ochaco gasped, clutching his arm. "That's exactly what I was thinking!" she blurted. Her voice trembled as she continued, "While I was in the hot springs, I kept feeling like... like I'd seen it all before. Except it wasn't just déjà vu. It was more."

Before either of them could make sense of their unease, the sound of hurried footsteps shattered the silence.

Not normal footsteps.

Scattered, frantic. Approaching fast.

Ochaco grabbed Deku's hand instinctively. "We need to go!"

"I—" Deku froze, his body rooted to the spot.

"Come on, Please I have a bad feeling!" she cried, trying to pull him forward.

"I cant move."

"Ochaco... leave. Get out of here," he managed through clenched teeth, his voice strained with an unseen force.

"No!" she screamed, yanking at his arm desperately. "I cant leave you!"

The footsteps grew louder, accompanied now by distant, blood-curdling screams.

Panic clawed at Ochaco's chest as her mind spiraled into chaos. She'd seen this before—she'd seen this happen. A dream? A memory? She didn't know anymore. But she knew what was about to happen.

Her grip on Deku tightened. Please, not like this. Not again. He always finds a way... he always gets back up. Please.

A figure emerged from the shadows, moving faster than Ochaco could react.

The masked man lunged.

His fist plunged through Deku's chest, and for one horrifying moment, everything froze. Then came the laughter—the cruel, guttural laughter—as the man held Deku's heart in his hand.

Ochaco's scream tore through the air as she watched the man toss the heart toward her like a grotesque trophy. It hit her head with a sickening thud, crimson streaks dripping down her face.

"No! No, no, NO!" she shrieked, stumbling back, tears streaming down her face as the man turned toward her next.

She tried to run, but the hallway stretched endlessly, warping into a maze of shadows and despair. The man lunged again, reaching for her chest—

And then she woke.

Ochaco bolted upright, gasping for air, her heart pounding so violently she thought it might burst. Her trembling hands fumbled for the lamp beside her bed. When the warm glow bathed the room, she instinctively activated her quirk, lifting herself into the air as if to reassure herself she was alive, awake, and safe.

Her room came into focus—the shabby, poorly decorated hotel that still felt more like a prison than a refuge.

She glanced around, panting heavily, her mind struggling to separate the nightmare from reality.

Then her door burst open.

A flood of familiar faces crowded the doorway: Iida, Deku, Tsuyu, and Momo at the front, all wearing expressions of alarm.

"ARE YOU OKAY?!" multiple voices cried in unison.

Ochaco nodded shakily, though her throat felt tight with unshed tears.

The sight of her classmates—her friends—was enough to bring her back to herself. But even as she reassured them, her mind was already replaying the nightmare, the image of Deku's lifeless body burned into her memory.

It wasn't just a dream, she thought, her fists clenching. Something is happening... and I have to stop it before it's too late.

 - Trapped in the Cycle

The room was tense, suffocating with a weight none of them could explain. Ochaco sat on the bed, her hands trembling as she held a glass of water. Her wide, bloodshot eyes darted between her friends, searching for something to ground her.

"I'm not crazy," she muttered under her breath. "This... this has been happening. I know it's been happening."

"You're not alone," Deku spoke softly, his voice laced with unease. He was sitting at the edge of the room, his arms tightly folded. "I've felt it too... like my thoughts aren't my own sometimes. Like someone's moving me, controlling every step I take."

Uraraka flinched at his words, the glass slipping from her hand and shattering on the floor.

"Enough of this!" Bakugo barked, his tone sharp as a whip. He stood by the door, arms crossed, glaring at them. "You're all acting like this is over. Like we're just gonna accept whatever's happening here. Get a grip!"

"It's not that simple," Momo said, her voice shaky. She pulled a battered notebook from her bag, flipping through its creased, stained pages. Her hands trembled as she scanned her own shaky handwriting.

"The quirk is messing with my memory," she continued. "I've been writing everything down to keep track... but every time I look at these notes, they don't make sense. I—I can't tell what's real anymore."

She turned the notebook around, showing pages filled with scribbled reminders: Trust your instincts. They're manipulating you. 300 days stuck here. No escape.

Denki slouched against the wall, his face pale and his breathing labored. He clutched his side, where faint arcs of electricity flickered uncontrollably across his skin. "It's... taking a toll," he wheezed. "I can feel it eating at me, like it's burning me from the inside out."

"Iida," Bakugo growled, shooting a glare at the former class president, "aren't you gonna say something? You're just standing there like a damn statue."

"I don't..." Iida's voice faltered, his usually sharp demeanor dulled by confusion. "I can't tell what's true. Every memory feels... fractured. Like pieces of a puzzle that don't fit."

"Me too," Tsuyu croaked, her usually calm voice strained. "And I—I don't feel anything about it. No sadness, no anger. It's like... I've forgotten how to care."

"It's all of us," Deku murmured. "Some kind of quirks... targeting us. Controlling us."

Ochaco's voice cracked as she broke in. "They're... using our worst fears. Making us live them. Every night, I see One Of you die. Each time a different person I care about. First It was Iida, then my father, then Tsuyu, and now Deku. Its a Cycle. Over and over. And I can't stop it." Tears spilled down her cheeks as she gripped her head. "I don't know what's real anymore!"

The Realization

Bakugo's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. The room felt like it was spinning, and his frustration boiled over.

"You mean to tell me," he growled, "that these quirks have been screwing with us for 300 damn days? And none of you thought to snap out of it?!"

Momo's voice trembled as she looked up from her notebook. "We've been reliving the same days... over and over. I—I wrote it down, Bakugo. We've been trapped here. And there's no escape."

Her words sent a chill through the room.

"No escape," Bakugo echoed, his lips curling into a snarl. "Tch. Says who?"

"Says me," Momo replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her composure was cracking, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Everything I've written points to the same conclusion. Every door is locked. Every window sealed. It's... hopeless."

"Maybe you're kinda smart, Ponytail," Bakugo spat, "but I refuse to just let this happen. You keep forgetting and remembering things—how do you know you're not wrong?"

"I don't," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I don't know if any of this is real anymore!"

Bakugo's Fury

"Well, I do!" Bakugo's voice thundered, cutting through her despair. He stepped forward, his crimson eyes blazing with determination.

"Listen up," he snapped, pointing at each of them in turn. "We're not some weak-ass nobodies. We were U.A.'s finest, got that? Still talked about till this day! These quirks might've messed with your heads, but they're not touching mine. And I'm not gonna let whoever's behind this think they can screw with us."

The room fell silent as Bakugo stormed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Deku called after him.

"To figure out who the hell's behind this and blow them to pieces," Bakugo barked. "Let's show these dumbasses who they're fucking with."

He threw open the door, marching into the dimly lit hallway.

But as he reached the lobby, an eerie realization hit him. The hotel was empty. Completely silent.

He reached for the front doors and tugged—nothing. They wouldn't budge. The windows were the same, sealed tight.

A cold dread crept up his spine.

Momo's Final Warning

Momo's voice echoed from behind him as she caught up, clutching her notebook. Her fingers traced a particular line, trembling as she read aloud:

"There seems to be no escape," she said, her voice hollow.

Bakugo turned to face her, his expression hard. "Tch. Says who?"

"Says me," Momo whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I don't know how long I can keep doing this. I don't know what's real anymore, Bakugo."

His jaw tightened, his gaze unyielding. "Maybe you don't, but I do. I'm not just gonna sit here and let them win."

He turned back to the door, his fists sparking with small explosions. "We're getting out of here. And when we do, whoever's behind this is gonna wish they never messed with us."

Momo hesitated, then nodded shakily. "Okay. But... we need to stick together. That's the only way we'll break this cycle."

Bakugo smirked, his fiery determination refusing to waver. "Then let's break it."

To Be Continued...