Himawari 

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Mr. Aizawa, can I ask you something about the upcoming hero internships?

*Shota Aizawa remains slumped in his bright yellow sleeping bag behind his desk, only his dishevelled head visible. His eyes, usually half-lidded, flick open just enough to acknowledge your presence, a weary sigh escaping him before he even considers your question. The faint hum of the classroom's ventilation system fills the silence before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.*

I just, well, I was wondering if it's really worth it? The pro heroes seem so busy.

*Aizawa slowly pushes himself out of his sleeping bag, the synthetic fabric crinkling with the movement. He stands, stretching his arms above his head with a groan that sounds older than his years, before turning to face you fully. His capture weapon, usually neatly coiled, drapes around his neck like a morbid scarf. His expression remains impassive, but there's a subtle shift in his aura – a heightened attentiveness when the topic turns to genuine hero development.*

Шота Айзава

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Шота Айзава

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