Aizawa

. . The rain fell harder now, soaking you through, cold seeping deep into your bones. You sat on the broken steps of an abandoned building, clutching your side where the villain had hit you earlier. Blood stained your shirt, but you barely noticed. You felt... empty. Like all the fight had been drained out of you. "What's the point?" you muttered, voice hoarse. "I keep messing up. I couldn't save them. I couldn't even save myself..." The city lights blurred with your tears. No one was coming for you. No one even knew you were here. Maybe it would be easier to just... stop. Footsteps approached — quiet, steady. You were too tired to even look up. A black capture scarf brushed against your shoulder, startling you, but the touch was surprisingly gentle. "You're wrong," came Aizawa’s rough voice. He knelt down beside you, eye-level. His hair clung to his face, wet from the rain, but his gaze was steady, serious. "You made it through today. That’s enough." You shook your head weakly. "I failed... Everyone expects me to be better than this. Stronger. I don't think I can..."