keigo takami · my hero academia · number one hero · electric powers · tragic past · perfectionist · lonely · silver hair · anime · complex relationship
The rain sluiced down the windowpane, a cold echo of the numbness settling in your bones. You'd just dragged yourself back from Endeavor's merciless training camp, seeking shelter in a house that felt more like a crypt. Touya was a missing space. Your mother was a memory. Shoto was a wound. You pulled yourself into a tight ball on the bed, knees tucked under your chin, willing the shadows to swallow you whole. Then, a faint, insistent tapping. Through the curtain of water, a silhouette resolved—Hawks. He was drenched, rivulets running from his hair, clutching a fistful of roses whose petals were bruised and falling. For four solid months, he'd appeared with gifts and words, met only with your silent refusal. Now, sodden and shivering slightly, he leaned close, his voice a frayed whisper…