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Assistant: Title: on the subject of dreaming
        Author: avenris aizawa_wears_crocs 
        Chapter: 1/1 
        Summary: Shouta doesn't sleep, most nights. He doesn't need it, and he definitely doesn't need the dreams.He's aware of the irony of trying to encourage his students to have healthy sleep schedules and routines, but he refuses to let his own habits impact his students. Midoriya is sleeping on the couch, so he goes to move him, and his student comes up swinging.- - -for day 2 of dadzawa week 2020: dekusquad!
        Contents: Summary:
            
              Shouta doesn't sleep, most nights. He doesn't need it, and he definitely doesn't need the dreams.He's aware of the irony of trying to encourage his students to have healthy sleep schedules and routines, but he refuses to let his own habits impact his students. Midoriya is sleeping on the couch, so he goes to move him, and his student comes up swinging.- - -for day 2 of dadzawa week 2020: dekusquad!
            
        

        
  Notes:





    
      in case you did not read the tags in-depth this work contains spoilers for aizawa's arc of vigilantes!
    

    (See the end of the work for more notes.)



  





    
        
          Shouta doesn't sleep, most nights.He knows that this isn't normal. Hizashi and Nemuri have scolded him enough times for it, and it's common sense to know that skipping out on multiple nights of sleep wears anyone down. It's the reason he has to sneak into class with his sleeping bag and catch up on a few hours, just enough to tide him over until the next day. Shouta's lived like that — from one day to the next — for years, though, and the system seems to be working. Even though he crashes every fifth day, has learned to predict the sweep of exhaustion that will finally overcome him and send him crumpling to the ground if he's miscalculated enough to be on patrol, he's got it handled. Shouta doesn't need the sleep, and he definitely doesn't need the dreams.
  Hey, Shouta, watch this!
Shouta hesitates to call them nightmares, really, because they're never nightmarish. He'll find Yagi in the common room one morning staring into a cup of tea like it holds the secrets to his soul, and know instinctively that he's had a sleep full of raging terror and broken screams. Kan will give him a wordless nod, tight-lipped, and Shouta will recognize that he's been up all night pacing the floors of the 1-B dormitory to make sure his kids are all safe. In contrast, Shouta's dreams, fuzzy and golden-edged, Oboro laughing in the sunlight as the permanent bandaid on his nose wrinkles up, are nothing. The ache of old heartbreak that sticks in his chest every time he wakes is down to him, not to the dreams he should probably be grateful for.Sometimes, Shouta wakes and forgets. Sometimes, he gets too deep into the illusion, and wakes up expecting to see Hizashi's fresh face next to Oboro's wild, bright hair. Every time reality seeps back in before he can pretend for too long, and he's left with the pieces of his memories lying shattered around him.All in all, it means that Shouta's quite happy avoiding sleep. Yes, Nemuri, he's aware it's a bad example to set. Yeah, Hizashi, he sees that it's harmful to his health. With unconsciousness comes pain, though, so Shouta sets his jaw and works through the night and ignores the weariness embedded like iron into his bones.Today is the fifth of his internal five-day calendar, and Shouta is about to end his patrol for the day. He's caught a couple of would-be muggers today near the Musutafu city center, both scared kids with wide, round faces and watery eyes. He's sent them home with a warning and the hope that they'll listen, and prayed deeply he'll never have to see them again. There haven't been any major incidents today, so Erasure has gone unused. Shouta's grateful for that — he's always ready to use it when he needs to, but not having to face the burning, bone-dry feeling of his eyes after the use of his quirk is always a relief. He rubs at his eyes subconsciously as he makes his way home, though it doesn't help the phantom ache behind them. His body protests as he keeps walking. It's three in the morning, and this is just about as far as Shouta can stretch his meager hours of sleep without dropping.When he reaches UA, pushing the door to the 1-A dorm open with heavy joints and stiff muscles, the lights are all off. Shouta sighs in relief that he's not going to have to deal with Satou definitely-not-stress-cooking or Todoroki sitting motionless and staring into the distance, and reaches over in the darkness of past midnight to flick the light switch he knows the position of by heart on.Light fills the room, the fixtures on the ceiling sparking to life. The common room is in one piece, there are no children lying injured or dead on the ground, and nothing seems to have been burnt down or destroyed since he left. Shouta heaves out a grateful sigh, and then his eyes land on the middle of the room.Midoriya is on the couch, motionless, the frayed communal blanket pulled haphazardly over his body. He's facing towards the couch, and Shouta sees the slow rise and fall of his chest and realizes he must be asleep. Shouta's talked to Midoriya about sleeping in the common room before, but the kid ends up here every so often regardless. It's bad for his posture, they both know, and it's never restful sleep. Shouta's aware of the irony of trying to encourage his students to have healthy sleep schedules and routines, but he refuses to let his own habits impact his students. Slowly, he pads over to the couch and stands over his student, intending to wake him up and send him off to his room."Midoriya," he says softly, not wanting to wake the other floors up. "Midoriya."His student shifts slightly, green curls flopping over to one side. Shouta hears a tiny exhale of breath, and Midoriya's shoulder twitches slightly. The sleep must be light, he reasons, so he reaches over to put a hand on his student's back. His hand connects. Midoriya goes rigid. Shouta freezes.A flash of green, the blanket whipping up into the air, and then the crackle of lightning fills the room as Midoriya jolts upright. Shouta jerks backwards as Midoriya's leg strikes out in a flawless kick, and Shouta can only catch a glimpse of the absolute terror naked on his face before he throws himself to the ground. His knees spark through with aching pain but Shouta shoves it away, blinking furiously as Midoriya's leg sweeps whisper-close to his head. Shouta inhales and activates Erasure, and burning heat sears through his eyes as he fixes his gaze on Midoriya, laser-sharp. The green lightning wreathing his student's body like flame lets out one last cracking spurt and dies.The abject, violent fear on Midoriya's face parts and gives way to horror, uneven and flaring, and he stops dead with eyes blown wide. He takes a breath, then another — too fast, Shouta knows — and then he's hyperventilating, short, panicked bursts of air and tiny whimpers filling the room. Shouta forces his stinging, fiery eyes to stay open, and closes the gap between them to clamp his hands down on Midoriya's shoulders."You're alright," says Shouta, keeping his grip firm but not tight. Midoriya's swimming eyes are unfocused as he gasps unsteadily, limbs stiff and rigid like a lifeless mannequin. "You're here, Midoriya. Can you hear me? You're alright."Midoriya shakes his head. "I'm — I'm —""You're in the common room at Heights Alliance," Shouta tells him, voice low. "It's three in the morning. You've just been asleep, and I woke you up. Can you recognize me?"Midoriya lets out an unintelligible string of terrified pain that Shouta interprets as a no. He pushes aside the fracture in his heart that cracks noisily at the sound."I'm Eraserhead," he says, "Aizawa, your homeroom teacher. You know me. Think about how you know me, Midoriya, alright? We're at UA, and you're here with me. We're just breathing, in and out." He hunkers down, getting on the same level as Midoriya, forcing his student to meet his eyes. Their gazes lock, and Shouta forces himself to stay calm at the haunted look in Midoriya's eyes. "Breathe with me. In. Out."Slowly, excruciatingly so, Midoriya's breathing starts to even out. Awareness returns to his eyes, the familiar spark brightening to clear away the clouds behind his stare, and he starts to shift more in Shouta's grip."Sensei," he says, slightly hoarsely, and Shouta nods."Good. That's good, Midoriya. Keep going."Midoriya swallows, and looks around. "I… I was sleeping," he recounts, looking to Shouta for confirmation. He nods, again. "I had a nightmare?""It seems like it," Shouta says gently. "Do you remember what it was about?"Midoriya's face closes off, just slightly, and he casts his gaze down. It's all the confirmation Shouta needs."Right," he says, and straightens up. "You sit down here." He encourages Midoriya back to the couch, pushing him gently, and then he crosses over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He returns and hands it back to his student, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the seat, and once the glass is half-drained Midoriya looks at him. Shouta sits on the coffee table, legs wide, forearms on his knees, hands clamped together."I'm — I'm sorry for attacking you, sensei," he says, voice quiet, and bows his head.Shouta frowns. "No, Midoriya. You don't have to apologize for something out of your control.""But — I shouldn't react like this to dreams!" Midoriya protests. He reaches up, and scrubs his face. "They're… they're stupid. I… they're stupid."Shouta shakes his head. "No nightmare is stupid. Dreams can be…" He searches for the right word to encapsulate the all-encompassing fear that he's seen on Ishiyama and Maijima and even Emi's faces. "Terrifying."Midoriya takes a shaky breath, and then lets it out in a laugh that's even less steady. "Yeah. They — they are."He's silent for a second. Shouta prompts, "Do you want to tell me about them?""No," says Midoriya, "but I think I probably should. Ha."Shouta nods. "That's a mature outlook," he tells him honestly. "PTSD is complex, and talking about it can help to a significant degree."Midoriya's head jerks up. "I don't —" he starts, something unreadable on his face, brow furrowed, eyes wide. "I don't have that, though, I don't — I don't have flashbacks, or anything.""You don't need to.""I'm pretty sure that's one of the requirements," Midoriya shoots back, and then looks horrified when he realizes who he's talking to. "Sorry, sensei —!""What is it with you and apologies, Problem Child?" Shouta asks, lightly amused. The emotion sinks beneath the seriousness of the situation, though, so he shakes his head. "Flashbacks to traumatic events are just one symptom, albeit common, of PTSD," he says. "You can have it with or without them. It's a disappointingly widespread misconception.""Oh," says Midoriya blankly, looking down into his glass. Shouta's struck by the similarity between him and Yagi's bowed form in the teacher's lounge, then, and he takes in a breath sharply, tensing. No fifteen-year-old should share that look, the same one as on a retired, injured war hero.Shouta looks at his problem child for a second, before he speaks. "Do you get nightmares like that often?"Midoriya stares at his hands, far too scarred to be that young, and nods.Shouta sighs. "That's why I find you down here so much."Midoriya winces. "I'm — sorry, I know it's bad for me. I don't want to cause trouble, I just — it's…" He trails off, biting his lip. "It's hard to sleep. Sometimes. Coming down here makes it… better. Tonight was just a, uh… a bad night. I don't usually hurt people like that, I promise," he says, looking anxious.Shouta nods, inwardly cursing at himself for not putting the pieces together before this. He knows the signs well. "You don't have to justify it to me, Midoriya. I'm just sorry I didn't notice before."Midoriya laughs, nerves vibrating like plucked strings through the sound. "It's alright, sensei! I mean, I tried to hide it, so —"Shouta raises an eyebrow. Midoriya goes still. "You tried to hide it?""I mean —" Midoriya flushes. "Not hide it, I didn't — not on purpose, I just didn't want to — to worry you, sensei.""It's my job to worry about you, problem child."Midoriya reaches up to the back of his neck, rubbing it almost self-consciously. "You have so much to do, though. You're a hero! And — and you have Eri, and you have to teach us, and —""Midoriya," says Shouta firmly, cutting him off. "I always have time for you. That is a promise."His student wilts slightly, but seems to take the words on board (or, at least, Shouta desperately hopes he does). "Okay."They sit in silence for a few moments, and Shouta waits for Midoriya to come to him. His student fiddles with his hands, turning them over and over and flexing his fingers like he can't believe they're whole. Distantly, Shouta feels the tinge of grief that comes with seeing all the children in his care break themselves constantly. Nobody does it more severely than Midoriya, and the ragged marks all over his hands are the terrible proof."They change quite a lot," says Midoriya suddenly, breaking the silence. He's not looking at Shouta, gaze fixed on his knotting fingers. "It's always the same… premise, though. What's happened before, but — but not everyone gets out."Shouta doesn't say anything. He just listens, still, giving Midoriya the space to speak."Tonight it was, uh, M-Muscular," he continues, stuttering slightly.Shouta knows what happened with Muscular, worked it out from the frantic tears covering Kouta's face and the blood covering Midoriya's shattered arms. His heart drops low in his chest."I didn't get there in time," says Midoriya. His breath hitches, and his gaze intensifies almost angrily. "I — Kouta was so still, and — and I was distracted and I just stared and then — he came up behind me, and —"His student lets out a sob, and Shouta pushes off the coffee table to come closer. Midoriya lurches forward and then he's hitting the ground, and Shouta is crouching on the floor in front of a kneeling, crying child. His chest aches."I couldn't stop it," Midoriya cries. "I — he just — and then I woke up, and — and —""It's okay, Midoriya," Shouta says, searching desperately for the right words to say. "You're here. You're safe. Kouta is fine. So are you. You're here, with me."Midoriya nods shakily, and his hands come up scrabbling. Shouta leans forward and Midoriya latches on to his sleeves, breathing in and out unsteadily, audibly trying to regulate himself. Shouta lets his hands anchor to Midoriya's shoulders again, hoping the touch is grounding."Thank you," stutters Midoriya.Shouta's grip tightens, almost involuntarily. "Don't thank me, Midoriya. You're important, and so is your mental health."Midoriya huffs a shaky, unsteady laugh. "I'm still going to thank you, sensei.""Disobedient problem child," Shouta says gruffly, and Midoriya's half-laugh turns into a teary smile. "What am I going to do with you?"Midoriya ducks his head, wincing slightly, and Shouta sinks onto his knees and pulls him into a hug. Midoriya's arms wrap around his back. "Dunno, sensei," he says, muffled.They stay like that, Shouta holding this kid who's breathing and alive and so strong despite what he's been through, and Shouta feels his eyes drooping with weariness. He shakes himself mentally — sleeping on Midoriya isn't going to help his situation, and he can hang on for another hour. Midoriya needs him, and Shouta needs to make sure he's okay until the image of Midoriya's horrified face, quirk spurting and failing, fades from his mind.Shouta frowns."Midoriya," he says, as the thought occurs to him. He releases his grip, and relaxes onto his haunches.His student raises his head, looking at him. "Sensei?"Shouta thinks through his words, and says, "You reacted oddly earlier, when I erased your quirk." Midoriya was already terrified, but when Shouta removed his quirk… the fear transformed into horror of an almost familiar sense. Shouta doesn't want to let whatever could have familiarized Midoriya with the feel of having no quirk to call on slip through his fingers.Midoriya stiffens, and draws back. "Did — uh, did I?" He laughs. It's gratingly fake. "I don't think I — I was just scared, sensei. From — from the nightmare."Shouta has a sixth sense for when his students are lying to him. Right now, it's ringing high and clear in his head like a bell. "It didn't look like just fear, Midoriya. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," he adds, gentler, and that's when Midoriya's resolve visibly weakens.He looks down, hesitating. "I — I don't like not, uh… not having it. My… uh, the quirk.""The quirk?""My quirk! I mean —" Midoriya breaks off, then, and meets Shouta's doubtful gaze. He exhales. "I'm not very good at this, am I?"Shouta smirks at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "You're really not, problem child. My b@llsh@t sensor picks you up every time," he adds, tapping the side of his head. "You've had your quirk erased for a long period of time, haven't you? You didn't react like this at the start of the year."Was it Overhaul? he wants to say. Were you temporarily dosed, and I just missed it?Midoriya swallows. "You could say that," he says, and then takes a deep breath. "I used to be quirkless. Until — until I got my quirk."Shouta stills. "You didn't get it at four, did you?"Midoriya laughs. He ducks his chin again to hide his face. "No. I… I got it last year. Near the entrance exam. But — I had time to train, I promise!"Shock strikes through Shouta like lightning, and he inhales sharply.There used to be a kid, in his middle school class, who was quirkless. Shouta never interacted with him, just like he never interacted with anyone, still firmly stuck in the shell Oboro had eventually managed to drag him out at UA, but he'd watched him. He'd stood by and looked while the kid was jeered at, teased, made fun of in ways Shouta could never understand.Back then, the kid had been part of roughly twenty or thirty throughout his school without a quirk. Shouta knows the statistics on quirkless people, and he knows how rare they are in the younger generations. His brain runs him through several scenarios like lightning, showing him technicolor visions of all the quirkless bullying that went on in his old school condensed into one person, into Midoriya. Fifteen years of being treated like the scum on the bottom of society's shoe.Shouta's throat won't make sound. It works and clicks, but he can't make noise. He stares."So… I didn't have it for a long time," Midoriya continues, voice hesitant, "and… I was disoriented, you know? And — and I just got… I got reminded of what it used to be like. When I couldn't use my quirk."He stares at the kid in front of him, and feels like he's beginning to comprehend just how resolute, how strong, Midoriya is. His student raises his head, and Shouta sees the pallor of his face. His lips are tight, face pale."Sensei?" he asks, so, so quietly. "Are you… are you mad?""Am I mad?" Shouta responds, and it comes out in a violent burst. Midoriya flinches. "I — of course I'm not mad, Midoriya. Why would I be?"Midoriya's cheeks flush. He looks away. "I… I don't know. I was quirkless.""People don't like quirkless people," realizes Shouta aloud, and watches the way Midoriya's shoulders tense up. "You thought I would be the same."A pause, and then Midoriya breathes out. "Yeah," he says.Shouta takes a moment to compose himself, and then another. "Midoriya," he says. His voice is hard. "Anyone who caused you to think that — and, from what I know, I'll assume it's almost everyone — is unequivocally, categorically, unquestionably wrong. You, Midoriya, are so important. Your status, quirk or no quirk, has no bearing on who you are. I promise you."Midoriya blinks, eyes shining. "Sensei," he whispers."I'm not done," says Shouta. "I'm so sorry you went through this, Midoriya. I can't make it up to you, and it's not my responsibility, but you should never have been treated that way. You're allowed to be whoever you are, whatever you are. I want you to know this. You're enough. You're important."Midoriya bursts into tears.When the crying is over, Midoriya sobbing into his shirt as Shouta holds him and tries not to rage at the world who decided this kid was better off crushed into the dirt, his student pulls back and wipes his eyes."Thank you, sensei," Midoriya says. His voice his hoarse. "Although — I know you said not to thank you. Still. I…" He hesitates. "I really appreciate it. What you said."Shouta nods encouragingly at him, and says honestly, "It's true. I don't lie, not in situations like this. Remember it, problem child."Midoriya smiles widely at him, almost blinding. "I will.""You should get to bed," Shouta says, changing the subject. "I know Ectoplasm has a math test scheduled for you tomorrow, doesn't he?"Midoriya winces. "Yes," he says, after a pause. "He does.""Go to sleep, then, problem child. You need the rest.""Okay, sensei," Midoriya says. "I will.""Goodnight, Midoriya.""Goodnight, sensei."Midoriya disappears up the stairs, leaving the blanket behind and neatly folded on the couch. Shouta watches him go. Once his student has disappeared up the stairs, he digs out his phone from the dyed folds of his outfit, and correctly swipes it open in the requisite pattern on the third try. He navigates to Chiyo's contact, and starts typing. Almost immediately, a matching Typing… bubble pops up opposite, and a message chimes in.
  I can see you typing. Call me.
Shouta shrugs, sinks down onto the couch, and presses the call button. Chiyo picks up on the second ring."Aizawa," she says in greeting. "My reading glasses never work too well at this hour. Calling is much easier.""That's because you should be sleeping," Shouta answers.Chiyo tuts, the sound cutting clear over the phone. "I don't think you're in a position to talk to me about sleep, young man."Shouta huffs a laugh. "I'm thirty years old, Chiyo.""And I'm nearing seventy. That's nearly double your age, young man.""Fair point," concedes Shouta, smiling at the wall."What did you need me for?" asks Chiyo.Right. "Midoriya Izuku," begins Shouta, and there's a frustrated noise from the other end of the phone."What has that boy done now?" Chiyo demands. "If it's another bone, he'll be going to Nedzu's office. Maybe he can finally talk some self-preservation into —""Midoriya is showing signs of PTSD," interrupts Shouta. "Nightmares, especially."Chiyo goes silent. "Oh," she says eventually, voice faint."I wanted to make you aware," Shouta continues. "He's going to need to talk to a professional about this, and god knows I can't fill that role.""I see," says Chiyo. "Thank you for telling me."Shouta nods, though she can't see it. "If you let me know once you've arranged something, or you want to see him, I'll excuse him from lessons.""Of course," Chiyo responds. "I'll make arrangements and tell you tomorrow.""Thanks, Chiyo," Shouta says."That boy," Chiyo murmurs. A beat of silence passes. "He's been through so much."Shouta thinks about one child standing up to a playground bully, to a hulking giant, to a monster in a mask. "Yeah," he says, low and quiet.Chiyo hums briefly through the phone. "I'll let you go and sleep, now," she tells him. "I know it's your… sleep day, or however you assign it.""You know about that?" asks Shouta.Chiyo snorts. "Every fifth day you come in with the bags under your eyes almost normal. Impossible to miss.""Huh," says Shouta."Regardless. Sleep, young man. You have to teach Midoriya and his classmates tomorrow."Shouta feels a wash of tiredness sweep over him, and nods slowly. "You're right. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Chiyo," he tells her."Goodnight, Shouta."Shouta hangs up, and looks at the phone screen for a moment. He's so tired. Staying up with Midoriya has outlasted his sleep buffer, and Shouta can barely muster up the energy to drop his phone back inside one of his deep pockets. He leans further back into the couch, and the pillow deflates and shifts around him like an embrace. His eyes shut, just once, and he breathes in.When he next exhales, he's out like a light.He dreams of laughter, and flowing hair, and the cloud motif on a curved gourd. Oboro runs ahead of him, hand clasped firmly around his own, tugging him along. He's whole and alive, happy and grinning toothily. Hizashi is ahead of them, stupid triangle glasses crooked on his face, hair spiked in a tiny quiff. He waves them over, beaming. Oboro runs towards him. Shouta knows with a certainty beyond his bones that, here, his cheek is smooth, unscarred, his hair short, his body not yet ravaged by chronic lack of sleep and lack of care.Oboro laughs and laughs and Hizashi laughs too, and Shouta wants so badly to join them but he knows something is wrong. Oboro lets go of his hand. He runs, off towards the golden light in the distance. Shouta holds up a hand, reaching across infinite distance for him, but time stretches and the light dims.The rain starts to fall. Hizashi has vanished. Shouta squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to breathe past the yearning in his heart.He wakes to soft beeping and a spat curse."F@ck!"Shouta cracks one eye open.Bakugou is across the room, by the stove, tense in front of it. He's in the process of strangling the timer beeping loudly in his hands, presumably in some misguided attempt to silence it. Spread out between him and Shouta are Yaoyorozu, Iida, Asui, and a wide-eyed Midoriya, all staring directly at him."Oops," says Asui. "You woke him up, kero.""F@ck," repeats Bakugou, and scowls at the pan in his hand, angrily making a motion that causes the mixture inside to fly up and flip mid-air.Midoriya gets up, and maneuvers his way closer to the couch. Shouta watches him, using one hand to push himself higher from where he's sunk into the cushions. He moves his twinging neck from side to side and it lets out a crick, and he grunts in relief."Sensei?" Midoriya says. "Are you okay?"Shouta nods. "I'm fine, Midoriya. I just… fell asleep here."He's expecting a joke about his hypocrisy, but Midoriya just hesitates.Shouta frowns. "Is something wrong?""You're… you're crying, sensei," says Midoriya, quietly.Shouta reaches up to his cheek. His fingers come away wet and glistening. "Oh," he says.Midoriya is quiet for a moment, and then he turns. "Kacchan, we have enough pancakes for Aizawa-sensei, right?"Bakugou glowers into his pan. "Obviously we do! He can have my best ones. Give him those, Deku," he says, and brandishes his spatula towards a plate stacked with four fluffy, drooping pancakes.Midoriya beams. "Thanks, Kacchan!" he exclaims, and then scoops up the plate. Shouta opens his mouth to protest, but Iida is already holding cutlery from the drawer out and Yaoyorozu is already offering a mug of tea, steam wafting up from its warmth. Midoriya collects the proffered items deftly, holding them steady and secure."Thanks, everyone," Midoriya says cheerfully, and waltzes his way around the numerous people and obstacles to deposit his cargo in front of Shouta. "Here you go, sensei. It might make you feel better.""Midoriya, I —""And I'm sure you wouldn't reject our gift, right, sensei?" Midoriya presses. There's a tiny glint of mischief in his eye.
  Sneaky child.
Shouta huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. "Fine, fine," he says, and the grin that splits Midoriya's face is dazzling."We appreciate your thanks, sensei," he says humorously.Shouta takes the plate and holds the mug, the warmth seeping into his hands. He looks up at his student, still standing there."You don't have to do this for me, Midoriya," Shouta tells him.Midoriya just smiles at him. "You're important, sensei," he says, echoing Shouta, and Shouta feels his mouth lift in a half-smile right back.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
Assistant: