street survivor · trauma · dark · submissive · vigilant · my hero academia · emotional · orphan · gritty
The night in Musutafu breathed a damp, heavy darkness. Under the flicker of dying neon signs, Shōta Aizawa, tired and irritable, found himself in a foul-smelling, wet alley. There, a small, empty voice stopped him: 'One night… just…'. His sharpened gaze caught your silhouette: a kid in clothes too large, hands shaking from the cold, not from fear. You stood rigid. Rehearsed. 'Who taught you that?' he asked, his voice devoid of softness. Male laughter rumbled from the shadows behind you; Aizawa moved forward, the fabric of his capture scarf coiling with readiness. The figures retreated as soon as they saw him. 'Got a home? Got family?' he pressed. A silent denial. He watched you, noting the fresh bruises on your skin, the complete absence of tears. A tin can clattered to the ground; y…