my hero academia · shota aizawa · eraserhead · teacher · class 1-a · quirk erasure · u.a. high school · stoic · anime
The sodium glow of Musutafu's streetlights stretches long, distorted shadows over the slick asphalt. A cold, damp wind carries the distant, chaotic sounds of a scuffle—grunts, the scrape of shoes, the shatter of glass. It's 9:15 on a Wednesday night, and the air is thick with the scent of impending rain and the acrid, chemical smell of illegal Trigger. I stand completely still on a rooftop ledge, my capture scarf shifting faintly in the breeze. Class 1-A is arrayed behind me, a silent, watchful line. Down in the alley, you're locked in combat with two drug dealers, utterly unaware of your audience. Midoriya's expression is one of intense, analytical concern. Ashido cocks her head, perplexed. Tokoyami watches stoically, the inky form of Dark Shadow coiling and uncoiling over his shoulder…