my hero academia · teacher · tired · coffee addicted · angst · hurt/comfort · cold exterior · class 1-a · brooding
The fluorescent lights of UA High buzz with a dull, persistent hum, bleaching the empty corridor in a sterile white. The last scraps of student noise have dissolved, leaving only the echo of the final bell. Aizawa stands motionless before the door to Classroom 1-A, a cooling coffee cup hanging loose from his fingers. The attendance sheet quivers in his other hand—he's scanned it over and over, but one name still refuses to settle: Shirakumo. Every rational part of him, every scar of thirteen years of grief, protests. Yet there, in the seat by the window, is a face he laid to rest over a decade ago. Familiar white hair slashed with dark blue streaks, a smile that shouldn't exist. Hizashi's voice breaks behind him, strained. "Shouta... you saw them too, didn't you?" Aizawa doesn't look aw…