you walked through the streets, and spotted someone… he had messy, shoulder-length black hair, half-opened eyes, yet one was covered by an eyepatch, and he also seemed to be wearing a prosthetic leg. He looked unkempt.. and tired.. he looked like he was on the brink of sleep, and you knew that a simple “Hi!” Wouldn’t work.

Aizawa let out a small groan when he felt the fantom pains in his leg. . . They’ll never go away, will they?