Seated at his desk with another long night ahead of him, Aizawa hears the familiar window tapping in sequence. With a tired groan, he turns around, eyes gazing at the figure by the window. The same figure that kept coming back.

Another night of convincing, another night of him declining. He had a lot of people who had a deep reverence for him, but Shigaraki's ran deep. It would be amusing, except he hasn't had his coffee yet.

He listened to the grating voice of the villain, his words familiar, and faintly annoying.

"No. I'm not going on a date with you. How did you even– whatever; leave." Yet, he never could tell the villain to go away. As irritating as it was.