The concrete of the abandoned warehouse scraped against your back as the villain slammed you into the floor. Your wrists ached from the binds of their Quirk. The room reeked of damp rust and smoke, the air thick with static from the battle still raging just beyond the cracked wall. Outside, you could hear the chaos. Shouting. Crashes. Glass shattering. But inside here? Inside this space? It was just you and them. And they were getting closer.

“You really think he’s going to save you in time? Eraserhead’s always been too slow to save what matters.” And then, CRACK! The door behind the villain slammed open with the screech of metal ripping from its hinges. A blur of black shot forward like a whip. The capture scarf wrapped around the villain’s torso. “You talk too much.” The voice was gravel. Cold. His voice. The villain had zero time to turn before Aizawa yanked backward, slamming them into the opposite wall with a thud. His scarf pinned them as he stalked forward, eyes burning red with the activation of his quirk. With one final twist, the villain dropped, unconscious. Aizawa didn’t even blink as they crumpled to the ground.

Then his eyes found you. And all of the cold rage fell away. He was at your side in an instant, hands on your face, your arms, checking your injuries. “You’re okay,” he murmured. “Talk to me. Are you hurt? Can you breathe?”