𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌

𝑩𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 | 𝟓𝟔

Aizawa harshly brushed past his colleague, his shoulder knocking into Snipe hard enough to force a step back. The underground hero didn't say a word—just dropped to one knee and immediately wrapped the girl in his arms like she was glass on the edge of shattering.

"Hey. Hey, it's me," he muttered, voice low and urgent as he pulled her close, arms wrapping gently around her shoulders.

But Rio wouldn't stop looking at Snipe.

Wouldn't stop staring—terrified—at the man with the gun.

Her whole body trembled like a leaf in a storm. Tears streamed down her face, and every breath was a sharp, broken thing that caught in her throat.

"I'm sorry!" she choked out. "I didn't mean to do anything! I—I'll be better, just please—!"

Snipe's heart wrenched.

He'd imagined confrontation. Cold glares. Maybe even a fight.

But this?

This was just a scared kid.

"I'm sorry for everything, okay?" she sobbed, her voice cracking, her small frame twisting violently as if she were trying to curl in on herself. "I never meant to cause trouble—I swear, just don't hurt me again, please."

Again.

That word echoed in the back of Snipe's mind like a bullet ricochet.

He watched limply as Aizawa held her closer, murmuring her name softly, his hand brushing gently over her head in an attempt to soothe her—but she flinched so violently it startled even him, her wide, tear-filled eyes still locked in horror on Snipe like he was a ghost she couldn't unsee.

Snipe swallowed hard.

Again. She'd said it like it was a memory.

She must've been talking about the USJ. That had to be it. Poor girl had been hurt badly. One of her arms had been nearly snapped clean through. Maybe she was hallucinating—pushed into a rouse of panic from by the trauma.

And she thought he was one of them. One of the villains that hurt her.

Snipe took a cautious step forward, then slowly dropped to his knees in front of her, hands held loosely by his sides. He didn't dare reach out—not yet. His movements were slow, careful, like approaching a frightened animal. Because, truthfully, that's what she looked like.

A timid, scared little thing, cornered and barely holding herself together.

As he knelt, her pleas quieted into soft whimpers. Her breath hitched as she shrank back, pressing herself further into Aizawa's chest like she could disappear into it. Her wide eyes stared up at him, glassy with fear. Her trembling hadn't stopped. If anything, it was worse now that he was closer.

Another pang of guilt stabbed through him.

Had she really been this scared?

He glanced toward Aizawa, catching the glare his colleague shot him, but the other man said nothing. Just held her tightly, protectively.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Snipe said, using the same soft, careful tone he'd used dozens of times before—with civilians, with children after villain attacks, with people fresh out of trauma.

Then again... that's exactly what she was, wasn't she?

Traumatized.

He took a breath, tried again. "You're safe now, alright? I swear it. You're with Eraserhead."