𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂 || BNHA

Chapter 3

I crossed my arms, glaring at Aizawa as he stood there, casual as ever, like he hadn't just interrupted my moment of peace. His presence felt intrusive, like a storm cloud blotting out an otherwise clear sky. He didn't seem in any rush, though, because he slowly pulled out a wrapped bundle of food, unrolling it to reveal a slab of venison, cooked and aromatic. My nostrils flared instinctively, the rich, savory scent awakening an ache in my stomach I hadn't realized was there.

I eyed the meat warily, leaning in just enough to sniff it. It smelled... good. Too good, considering where we were. "So," I finally said, suspicion dripping from my words, "what are you doing here?"

Aizawa shrugged lightly, setting the food down on a flat rock between us, almost as if offering peace—or a distraction. His dark eyes met mine, steady and unreadable. "We had a misunderstanding back at school that I'd like to clear up," he said, his tone calm but edged with something firm, like iron wrapped in silk. "I'm Aizawa Shota, and I know you're just trying to protect yourself."

His words made my hackles rise slightly, a flash of irritation surging through me. Protect myself? From what? Who does this guy think he is, swooping in and making assumptions about me?

But then he continued, his voice calm yet unyielding. "You need to come with me to U.A. Technically," he said, drawing out the word like it was more trouble than it was worth, "one of our teachers found you. And therefore, you are under his custody."

I stared at him, my mind turning over his words, my claws curling reflexively at my sides. Custody. The word felt foreign, uncomfortable, like a shackle tightening around my wrist. He wasn't asking me—he was telling me.

I sighed, the tension easing out of my shoulders as I crouched down, drawing a slow circle in the sand with one claw. The motion was almost meditative, grounding me for a moment amidst the unexpected conversation. "I see. Well, alright. Seems nice," I said, my lips curling into a faint smile as I looked up at Aizawa.

He tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "He is," Aizawa replied, his voice as low and composed as ever. "Though I have to remind you, he's the number one hero. He doesn't have much time on his hands."

I nodded, the weight of that statement settling over me. It wasn't surprising—heroes always seemed to be in a constant whirlwind, their lives dictated by danger and duty. "I understand that," I said with a small shrug, brushing sand from my hand as I rose to my full height. "I can always take care of myself and only be with him on certain nights or something."

I shrugged again, letting the thought hang in the air as I stood tall, once more towering over Aizawa. His unflinching gaze didn't waver as he regarded me, calm and steady as always.

"Well," I said, flashing a quick, toothy grin, "I better go then. See you soon, Mr. Aizawa." Without waiting for his response, I turned and strode into the forest, my steps soundless as I melted into the shadows of the trees.

The rustling leaves swallowed me whole, and soon, there was nothing left of me but the lingering whisper of the wind.