There's a certain indescribable feeling that one experiences when they find out their ex-partner, the 3rd ranked pro-hero, who they thought had died in a blazing inferno, is dragged to their front door in the middle of the night.
That's the feeling I happen to be experiencing.
I look over at the bottle of red wine sitting on my counter, far too fancy for someone like me, pieces of red wax flaking off at the corners, wax that once sealed it many years ago.
I contemplate opening in. Instead, my eyes wander to the kitchen scissors on the counter. I take them, flipping them over tentatively in my hands. I drag myself to the bathroom, and check myself in my mirror. My hair is starting to get longer, and resemble a short bob more than anything.
In an attempt to feel something, or gain some kind of sense of identity, or a sense of control perhaps, I begin cutting away at my new growth. Once I'm done, I look just how I did after Toya fried away my hair and I had to chop it off. I ruffle my hair and step into the shower to try and get rid of the small cuttings.
The hot water is a welcome escape, though it's turned up maybe a bit too high. My skin is almost glowing red, yet I do nothing to stop it. I wonder if this is how my asshole of an ex felt as the flames engulfed his wings.
Actually, I don't need to worry about that anymore. He's gone, and no longer my problem.
Then why do I keep thinking about it?
The metal dial for the shower creaks as I turn it off.
After drying my hair and getting my hero costume on, I head downstairs.
"Took you long enough." Hitoshi smiles at me, in his own hero costume. I grin widely.
"Your own hero costume! It's so cool!" I admired it. He smiles embarrassedly.
"Thanks." He mutters, before noticing I'm bringing only myself and nothing else. "Why aren't you bringing a night bag?" I shrug.
"We won't need it." I say matter-of-factly. Hitoshi furrows his brows before sighing and retreating back to his room. Shota sees him passing by and shoots him a look.
He asks me the same question.
"You're not bringing a bag?" I shake my head.
"You are, though." I reply. He looks at the backpack he's got slung over his shoulder.
"It's just got the capture stuff. No overnight clothes." I nod.
"...Decided to keep your hair short then?" I twist a lock of hair in my fingers.
"Yeah."
"For aesthetic reasons? Or..."
"It's just one less distraction if I keep it short. And maybe I like it." He smiles softly.
Hitoshi returns, and we exit U.A. into the night.
The train journey to Hosu City isn't terribly long. Hitoshi is scrolling on his phone and listening to whatever it is kids are listening to nowadays after we'd gone over our plan of attack, whilst myself and Shota sit in silence. My phone dings abruptly.
"1 message from: Enji
Are you en route?"
I quickly send a reply.
"Yeah. Will let you know when we've got him."
"Hey." I turn, Shota is waiting for me to notice him. "Sorry we couldn't go for dinner." I shrug.
"Not your fault. I just didn't feel so great after the night before with... You know who." I glance at Hitoshi who is engulfed in his phone. Shota nods.
YOU ARE READING
Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach. (OC/Reader x Aizawa)
FanfictionY/N L/N is a 23 year old semi-retired pro-hero, after waking up after a fight and having her quirk mysteriously disappear. She finds a job listing for a teacher at U.A., and decides to apply, not predicting the level of assholery one of her co-worke...
