𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌

𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝟔-𝟕 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔| 𝟔𝟕

The hallway was still half-asleep, the kind of quiet that came before sunrise, when even the city outside seemed reluctant to stir. Aizawa locked his apartment door with slow, mechanical movements. His scarf hung loose around his shoulders, hair tied back in the same careless way it had been for days. He looked like he hadn't closed his eyes all night.

 He hadn't. 

When he turned, he nearly collided with the boy standing just down the hall.

"...Shinsou...?"

Shinsou shifted on his feet, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his hoodie. He didn't look like he'd slept either. Then again hadn't he always looked like that? His eyes carried that same dark intensity Aizawa knew too well, the kind that came when your thoughts refused to let you rest.

"I figured you'd be up," Shinsou said simply.

Aizawa's brows drew together. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting," Shinsou admitted. His voice was steady, but there was something behind it, something heavy. "I wanted to talk to you before you went to... wherever you're going."

Aizawa exhaled through his nose, already half-dreading where this was headed. "If this is about—"

"It is." Shinsou cut him off before he could finish. "It's about Rio."

The name hung between them, sharp and unyielding.

Aizawa's jaw tightened. He started down the hall, but Shinsou fell into step beside him, refusing to let him leave so easily.

"I know what she wrote," Shinsou said after a pause, quieter now. "I know she thought I'd understand. And I do. Maybe more than anyone else here. So let me see her."

Aizawa stopped walking, turning to face him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp in the dim light. "No."

Shinsou didn't flinch. "Why not?"

"Because she's not stable," Aizawa replied flatly. "She's in no condition for visitors. Not from you, not from anyone."

"You don't get it." Shinsou's voice rose—not loud, but insistent. He searched Aizawa's face, desperate for something to land. "I know what it's like. To have everyone treat you like you're dangerous, like you're already lost. That's what pushed her over the edge, isn't it? Everyone deciding she's something she's not."

Aizawa's silence was its own kind of weight.

"You showed me that note," Shinsou pressed, fists curling in his pockets. "You wouldn't have done that if you didn't think I mattered to her. So let me matter. Let me try."

The words hit harder than Shinsou probably realized. Aizawa's throat worked, but no sound came out for a moment. He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly more tired than before.

"It's not a good idea, ok kid?"  he said at last, his voice low and rough.

Shinsou frowned. "Why not?"

Aizawa looked away, eyes narrowing at nothing in particular. "...I don't know."

The honesty in that admission seemed to take the fight out of both of them. For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of pipes in the walls.

"...If you don't know, then why are you stopping me?" Shinsou's voice was calm but insistent, cutting through the quiet of the early hallway.

Aizawa's eyes flicked briefly to him, then back to the floor, expression unreadable. "Because she's not ready," he said flatly, voice low and steady. "And neither are you, not fully."

Shinsou tilted his head, scanning him. "I can handle it. I know what I'm walking into."

"Can you?" Aizawa's words were sharp, clipped, carrying that weight of authority and warning that Shinsou knew better than to underestimate. "She's... fragile. Every second counts. One mistake, and it—" He didn't finish, just let the warning hang in the air.

Shinsou's hands clenched in his pockets, a quiet determination radiating from him. "I understand the risks. I'm not asking for full access. Just... a few minutes. A chance to be there, even if it's only a little."

Aizawa's gaze didn't soften. He studied Shinsou like he was weighing the air itself. Then, slow, deliberate, he exhaled. "Fine. A short visit. Strictly controlled. One wrong move and you leave immediately. Do you understand?"

Shinsou's shoulders eased slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. "Yes."

"Not because I trust you," Aizawa added, tone flat, "but because she needs someone. And I'm not letting her be alone right now."

Shinsou nodded, letting the tension drain from him in a subtle exhale. "I'll be careful. I promise."

Aizawa gave a curt nod, then started walking again, scarf slipping slightly from his shoulder. Shinsou followed for a few steps, quiet, giving him space. The distant hum of the pipes filled the corridor as the first slivers of sunlight began to push through the hallway windows.

When Shinsou finally turned toward the elevator, he cast a quick glance back. "Thank you," he said, voice soft but steady.

Aizawa didn't respond. He just continued down the hall, eyes forward, every movement deliberate. The silence between them was no longer suffocating,just tense, like the calm before a storm, but it was enough for now.

See what i did with the title? I felt so proud of myself when I thought of it which is honestly kinda sad now that i think about it lol, have a good week! Remember to take care of yourself <3