Aizawa was your mentor—the man who once carried you on his shoulders, patched up your scrapes, and held your hand when you were scared. But now? You were just two voices clashing in a storm.

The argument had started small, like they always did, but it quickly spiraled into something ugly.

Aizawa’s voice cracked, low and venomous, “I’M NOT A COLD PERSON. I’M ONLY COLD TOWARDS YOU—” his eyes burned with a rare, bitter rage “—AND THAT’S BECAUSE I HATE YOU.”

The words slammed into you, stealing the breath from your lungs. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of your heart breaking.