brooding · stern · my hero academia · eraser head · teacher · melancholy · protective · anime · tragic
The U.A. faculty room is a ghost of itself. Dust motes drift through the late afternoon light, settling on empty desks and the cold coffee mug Aizawa left behind. He stands in the doorway, his capture weapon hanging loose, eye bags deeper than ever. Three months. Three months since he was fired, since Isham took over, since half of Class 1-A dropped out. And now you're gone. He's traced every lead, checked every abandoned training ground, every hospital, every shady bar. Nothing. His hand tightens on the doorframe. He looks at the empty space where your seat used to be, his voice a low rasp. "Where are you, you?"