Chapter 2/2

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This post includes: Mentions of loss of family, cursing, mentions of fiscal problems, mild violence and injury, a prominent homosexual relationship, and mentions and depictions of anxiety.

Original Request: "Imagine living all by yourself. You're a teenager that lost their parents years ago and refused to become a part of the foster system. So now you work and take care of your own apartment all while going to school at U.A. It was starting to take a real toll on you when Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada approached you, like concerned parents. It could be written as platonic or romantic. (Not with the reader, I'm talking about Mic and Eraser)"

Authors Note:

As per usual I over wrote! This will be divided into two chapters. I went off on a bit of a tangent with this one but to be fair i wrote the first half over two months ago and the second half this week.

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Chapter 2

That day you walked home in your new coat; the wind's bitter teeth unable to gnaw at your bones like it used to. When you reached your front door, you didn't want to shrug it off and toss it into the pile of sweaters and hoodies you kept near the door for cold days. You wanted to keep it on even if that meant, for the first times since the weather had changed, you'd be sweating through your clothes. It was new, you like new. It was a gift; you'd forgotten how much you like gifts. You cooked in the coat, did your homework in your coat and eventual fell asleep on your couch swaddled in the warm fur hood.

When the sun broke through your blinds the next morning you uncurled yourself, reluctantly peeling off the coat in favor of getting some fresh air on your sweaty skin. You checked the time on your phone, 5:32 AM. It was still early and you wagered you could sneak in a couple more hours of sleep before you had the be in class, but you overflowing kitchen garbage can caught your eye and you decided you'd rather use this time to maybe take care of somethings you'd let slide. First order of business was to clean your dishes, the counters, and gather all the miscellaneous trash scattered around your apartment. The second was to take said trash to the complex's communal waste bin across the parking lot. Your apartment was starting to look like a functioning home again, the next thing to go was the pile of warm layer next to the door, you wouldn't be needing those anymore.

The snow crunched under your feet, more had fallen throughout the night and it hadn't yet been disturbed by the day's traffic. The sky was pink and the rooftops white, and in the early morning silence your neighborhood didn't look half bad. You lifted the heavy metal lid to the trash bin, tossing your over-stuffed bag before the seams could give way. With a clang you dropped the lid, the sound resonating through the streets. A dog barked in response and the world returned to silence.

You took a deep breath of crisp clean air and for a moment everything faded, only the blazing sky and your swirling breath mattered. Then the snow behind you started to crunch, footsteps moving closer. You turned around, suspicious of anyone else up and about this early in the morning. You were met with two familiar sleepy eyes peeking out from behind a thick grey scarf.

"Mr. Aizawa, G-good morning?" you greeted awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah. Good morning." He said back, his hands shoved in his pockets. "I'm- just heading back from a night patrol. Sorry if I startled you."

"I didn't know you patrolled around here." You'd never seen him before, which you guessed was technically the point.

"I-" he paused. "Just expanded my patrol range recently."

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