MHA REINCARNATION!

As the bell rang and students began to filter out of the cafeteria, a thick knot of curiosity formed in my stomach. I knew my brother was perceptive; Anos always saw things others missed. But I couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that hovered around his words. Every moment we spent talking made me acutely aware of the pressure every student carried, including myself.

"See you after school?" I echoed, trying to keep my tone light despite the uncertainty tightening in my chest.

"Yeah," he replied, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes, and with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to contemplate the weight of unspoken words.

The hours dragged on, each class blending into the next, overshadowed by Anos's insight. I couldn't help but notice how the dynamics in our classes mirrored what he'd pointed out. Some students were eager to support one another, while others seemed to harbor a fierce, almost secretive drive that set them apart. The atmosphere felt charged, like a storm gathering just beyond the edge of my awareness.

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, I found myself rushing back to the courtyard. It was a sprawling space littered with colorful banners and students mingling as they exchanged plans for after school. But I was solely focused on finding Anos, the unease coiling tighter within me.

I spotted him near the trees that bordered the school grounds. He leaned against one, his gaze turned skyward, lost in thought. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to break the silence that had settled between us, before finally approaching.

"Hey!" I called out, forcing a grin onto my face despite the lingering tension. "What did you want to talk about?"

Anos turned to me, his expression serious but softened by a hint of a smile. "Let's walk."

As we strolled through the green pathway, side by side, I felt the weight of expectation press down on us. The sun began to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows that dappled the ground beneath our feet.

"I've been thinking," Anos started, his voice steady, "about what I mentioned earlier. The competition among the students—it's more prevalent than I initially thought."

"Right," I said, nodding, ready to hear what else he had to say. "You think it's affecting people?"

He sighed heavily. "Yes, and I noticed it during the training exercises today. Some students are strong, incredibly talented, but it seems like they're losing themselves in this need to outperform one another. I can see the pressure weighing on them."

I swallowed hard, feeling an unsettling empathy for my classmates. "I know how intense it gets. Sometimes it can feel like there's no room for mistakes."

"Exactly," Anos responded, stopping suddenly and turning to face me. "But it doesn't have to be that way. You're not just a warrior in a battle; you're part of a team. You need to remind everyone of that. Encourage collaboration over competition."

"But what if they don't listen?" I asked, a hint of desperation creeping into my voice. "What if they think weakness is letting others help them?"

"That's a misconception," he said firmly. "True strength lies in vulnerability and trust. If you show them a different way, maybe they'll begin to see it too."

I pondered his words, reflecting on my experiences with my classmates. The supportive moments we shared, the times when we truly worked as a team—those were the moments that felt the most powerful.

"Maybe you're right," I admitted slowly, a new determination shimmering within me. "I could talk to them, encourage them to work together more. We shouldn't just focus on our quirks but also on our bond as classmates."

Anos smiled, an encouraging light dancing in his eyes. "That's the spirit. If anyone can inspire them, it's you."

The conversation shifted to other topics, light and easy, but the weight of Anos's insight lingered. On our walk home, I felt a change inside me, a stirring of resolve that promised future action. I knew the importance of inspiring this team spirit, and it gave me hope.

As we reached our home, I turned to Anos, who had paused at the gate, his expression contemplative once more. "Thanks for today, Anos. I think I needed that."

"Just remember," he said softly, "strength isn't just about power. It's about lifting each other up, too."

With that, he stepped into our home, leaving me with a new mission brewing in my heart. I was finished with just observing the competition; it was time to ignite a support system among my friends—a family of heroes united, not divided.