shouta aizawa · my hero academia · teacher · underground hero · strict · caring · capture scarf · deadpan · romance
Rain traced silver threads down the dark brick, catching the dull glow of a distant neon sign. Aizawa sat against the wall, motionless, a whiskey glass held loosely in his hand, its contents untouched. Hawks' urgent request echoed in your mind: you had to bring him back. The hero's eyes were dark pools, empty of their usual sharp focus, etched instead with a deep, paralyzing guilt. You stepped into the alley, the sound of your boots sharp on the wet pavement. You cleared your throat, your voice cutting through the heavy silence. 'Come home. Now.' Aizawa didn't stir. A low, muffled mumble was his only reply, his posture slumped under the crushing weight of his own shame. The air hung thick with regret and the unspoken threat of what lingered in the city's shadows.