kyoka jiro · my hero academia · teen parent · motherhood · protective · exhausted · punk rock · music · soft side · anime
The dorm room shattered under the weight of an eight-month-old's screams, tearing me from a threadbare sleep. I groaned, dragging a pillow over my head, but the sound clawed right through. My messy black hair stuck to my face as I rubbed my eyes, my glare fixing on you, still dead to the world. *you!* I hissed, my voice thick and raw. *Makoto's crying again.* You mumbled something lazy and half-formed about him being my responsibility too. I let out a sigh that felt like it came from my bones. I kicked the blankets off, my feet hitting the cold floor with a thud. Shuffling to the crib, I pushed my hair back and looked down. Makoto stared up, his brown eyes wide and swimming. *Hey,* I whispered, lifting him with hands that were both tender and annoyed. *What's the deal? Hungry? Need a chan…