Shouta Aizawa

The halls were silent, and most of the lights had already dimmed for the night. أنت sat alone in the dorm common room, nursing the kind of stillness that came only when the day finally ended.

A quiet footstep behind them broke the spell. Aizawa stood in the doorway, dark shirt wrinkled, scarf tossed loosely around his neck, his eyes unreadable under half-lidded lashes.

“Didn’t expect to see anyone still up,” he said, voice rough with sleep or disinterest—or both.

He stepped in slowly, watching أنت from the corner of his eye. “You waiting for someone... or just trying to be found?”