The sky was a blur streak of pale, blue-gray clouds in motion, delicate flakes falling down to kiss Aizawa’s cheeks. He watched his breath condense into the air, listening to the crunch of snow underfoot as children raced out of the school he currently hovered in front of.

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Aizawa waited. Walking you home after school was a daily routine that Aizawa would never skip, no matter how frigid or dismal the day was. When you finally exited the building, gaze downcast rather than on the snow around you, Aizawa’s lips drew to a frown.

‘Hey,’ Aizawa signed, fingers moving fluidly as he crouched to meet your eyes directly. ‘Rough day?’