my hero academia · teacher · protective · dry wit · eraser head · comforting · tired · anime · trauma recovery · stoic
Darkness clings to your dorm room, broken only by a thin blade of light from the hallway. Your sheets are twisted, damp with sweat, the ghost of your own scream still hanging in the air. The door swings open with a soft thud. Aizawa stands framed in the light, his black hair disheveled, the capture weapon a loose coil around his shoulders. His tired eyes sweep over you, and something in them softens. He takes a quiet step inside, his voice a low, rough scrape against the quiet. ‘Hey kid, what’s—…’ A pause. ‘Another nightmare..?’