It was just past midnight when a woman walking on the sidewalk heard the first low rumble of thunder overhead. Inwardly, she groaned, cursing the heavens for making this miserable night even worse for her. But she grit her teeth and continued walking, determined to complete her task and be done with it. She walked briskly, attempting to skirt around any lamplight illuminating her path. In her eyes, being under any amount of light left her exposed to danger, no matter how faint it may be. As she neared her destination, another roll of thunder announced itself, followed by the first drops of the impending downpour. As fat raindrops hit her nose and shoulders, she noted how cold they were on her skin. While this wasn't unusual for an August rain, it only heightened her sense of concern for the cargo she was carrying. The young lady readjusted the basket in her arms, attempting to shift it so her body could better block the rain. She couldn't allow what was inside to become too wet or cold.
After walking two more blocks, which to her felt like miles, she finally stopped in front of a house. It was modest and rather plain looking from the outside, like most Japanese suburban homes. A stranger passing by wouldn't have paid it a second glance. But the woman knew otherwise; she had spent weeks observing the house and it's tenants. This was home of not one, but two extremely prominent and powerful pro-heroes. People who were loved and respected by the community; people who kept others safe. And it was the lattermost trait that had solidified the young lady's choice of houses in her mind. What she had needed to be kept safe at all costs.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, the woman walked up the three short steps that lead to the front door. The chilly rain had picked up slightly and she noted the narrow overhang above the doorway, and attempted to position the basket so it remained as covered as possible. The woman kept her eyes focused on the wicker basket or the concrete landing, determined not to look at basket's contents lest she lose her nerve. Once she was satisfied with it's placement, she stood up, straightening her spine and faced the closed door. As she raised her fist, she exhaled a single word into the cool night air.
"Please."
A silent prayer that those within would hear her and help.
She knocked four times, giving quick rhythmic knocks before she pressed her ear to the doorway and waited. A few moments passed, but she couldn't hear any movement on the other side. She stood back and knocked four times more, louder and more insistently this time. Once again she pressed her ear to the door hoping to hear some sign of life. The rain was picking up, making it more difficult to hear. But this time she thought she heard something, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to listen intently. There was silence for a moment and then she heard a faint scraping sound. Like someone had pulled out a chair from somewhere within the house. She felt hope rise in her chest; one of the heroes was awake. One of them would come to help soon. This was her last chance to get their attention...With a deep breath, the woman stood up and stepped one arms length away from the door. She exhaled, reached out, and gave three final knocks before turning on her heel and sprinting into the downpour. As she ran, she chanced a glance over her shoulder hoping she had been quick enough to get away. The door was still closed, but there was no time to turn back again. She felt tears sting the corners of her eyes and she turned her head back around, praying as she ran that she had done the right thing. If she had only turned a few seconds later, she would have seen the door open.
•••
When the first round of knocks came, it was Shouta Aizawa who had been roused from sleep, blinking owlishly around the room and confused as to what noise had woken him up. He turned to his right to see his husband of three years, Hizashi Yamada, still sleeping and snoring softly. Hizashi's long blond hair was strewn everywhere and Shouta sighed lovingly, taking a moment to brush a few loose strands away from his face. Shouta had always been the lighter sleeper of the two, and it wasn't uncommon for him to wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. He decided it must have just been the house settling, and turned over to go back to sleep. That's when the second round of knocks came.
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