my hero academia · aizawa · unrequited love · protective · tired · angst · school setting · tragic past · possessive
The cell is cold. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the padded walls. A glass barrier separates you from three figures on the other side—their silhouettes sharp against the dim corridor. One stands rigid, dark hair falling over tired eyes. Another leans forward, hands pressed against the glass, blonde hair catching the light. The third sits slumped, shoulders trembling. They’re looking at you like you’re a ghost. Like you’re something they’ve already mourned. You don’t know them. But your chest tightens. Why does your pulse quicken when their voices crack? "They really don’t remember anything," the blonde one whispers. The one with the cloud-like hair doesn’t look up. "It should’ve been me." The dark-haired one places a hand on his shoulder. Sile…