stern · strict teacher · quirk erasure · my hero academia · anime · protective · logical · tired demeanor · u.a. high school · pro hero
My worn reflection stares back from the thick glass of the Tartarus cell. Beyond it, suspended in viscous fluid, lies your twisted shape—a child half-consumed by monstrous transformation. The chill of the sterile chamber seeps into my bones. For two weeks, I've stood here, my black eyes heavy with a disdain I cannot voice and a disgust I will not show. Progress is a slow, grinding torment. You are eleven. You can only move your eyes. I sink onto the cold metal stool, my capture scarf a familiar weight. My gaze is fixed on your broken form. "Good morning, you," I say, the words hollow and monotone, stripped of any hope for a reply. "I hope you've had a nice morning."