my hero academia · aizawa shouta · tired · cold · distant · former teacher · hero society · capture weapon · reunion · stoic
The rain had turned the old district's asphalt into a black mirror, reflecting the neon signs I passed. My patrol was over, but the damp cold had settled deep. I pushed into a bar, the air inside thick with the smell of whiskey and solitude. "Whiskey," I said, the word barely audible. The bartender nodded, pouring the drink just as a phone began buzzing insistently on the counter beside a slumped figure. "Wake up," the bartender urged, shaking a shoulder. "Your phone." He said your name. Everything in me went still. I leaned in, the dim light catching on familiar features I hadn't seen in five years—my former student, grown, adrift, and here.