The next day, it's Friday.
Thank goodness. The morning starts badly from the first step into class. In fact, as soon as you got out of bed this morning, you didn't really feel like going to school. But your dad insisted, he encouraged you to show your "balls", as he calls them, and come sit here, in this fantastic classroom.
"Good morning, sweetie. How are you today?" Tess asks, giving you a long kiss on the cheek. You smile at her.
"Better, thanks."
She freezes as soon as she sees Aizawa-sensei walk through the door, his gaze cold and strained as usual. But today... it seems more so than other times. You look at her first, raising an eyebrow, then you turn too, but as soon as you see him, you feel the floor disappear beneath you. You look away immediately, and he does the same.
You don't say hello. You pretend to open the book and leaf through it, looking at the pictures, while he pretends to check a tablet that you know very well is turned off. You're obviously trying to avoid each other.
"Good morning," he finally says, in a flat voice, addressing all of you.
Your eyes flutter for a moment when you hear his voice. You look down at the floor, feeling tears pricking your eyes. Please, Eri, don't cry now!
Then, all in unison, you answer and greet him with a dull good morning. Nothing more.
During class, Aizawa-sensei only looks at you when absolutely necessary. During roll call, when you ask him to go to the bathroom, when he hands you the test you took last week that he marked, the same one you got an A+ on... or when he asks you a question about the lesson you studied a few days ago, but he asks it without even meeting your eyes.
You, as usual, answer impeccably. But your tone is cold, very cold. It's decidedly different from the previous times. He asked you everything he'd been explaining for a week now, as if he wanted to test you, but with courage and determination you didn't let yourself be overwhelmed, answering everything politely and with dedication.
You got top marks in both the written and oral exams.
By the end of the morning, you feel like you've climbed a mountain. He's already on his feet, almost ready to cross the threshold, but you don't have the courage to look up from your book to see him leave the room. You don't have the strength. All he's done is keep his distance as if you were radioactive. It hurts, so much that you can't stand it.
He walks away, and you cover your face with both hands. Tess grabs your wrist.
"Eri...what happened to you? You're weird." She asks, visibly worried. You remove your hands from your face and look into her eyes. You feel like you're dying to tell her this, but you can't lie. Not to her.
You begin to tell her everything, from start to finish, everything you and Aizawa-sensei said yesterday in his office. It all comes out: your words, his, your anger, his frustration, his worry, your slamming door... And Tess listens without interrupting. When you finish, she sighs, squeezing your hand even tighter.
"Eri…he's a walking emotional mess," she says. "And you're completely in love."
"Unfortunately, yes…" You reply. "But if he doesn't want to be with me the way I want him to be…I'd rather end things. I don't want to feel bad."
She comes over and hugs you tightly, holding you close with one arm.
"Whatever happens…just know that I'm here, okay? Don't leave me alone." She says, winking. You smile sweetly, then nod, unable to say anything else.
In the afternoon, you stay at the institute with Recovery Girl, who explains impeccably the best ways to perform a perfect first aid. Sometimes you enjoy attending the third-years' classes, especially since Sensei is so generous and noble that she lets you do whatever you want. Ren ran away shortly after class with Aizawa-sensei, saying he had anatomy to study. Reina, on the other hand, had to go out with her sister, who had made her lose her temper. Tess couldn't stay; she had a shopping appointment with her mother...
So, after your lesson with Recovery Girl, it's just you and Kaito left in the lab. The infirmary is quiet, lit by white lamps and the occasional murmur from the older students. You're setting up some instruments and recalibrating a robotic bed when a girl stops in front of you. She says her name is Sarah, she's a third-year, and she compliments you on your performance at the Specialization Festival.
"Wow, you were amazing! But… didn't you have wings?"
"Of course!" You smile. With a pat on the back, you release your power and your wings appear, large and white. Her eyes sparkle.
"Wow! How cool! But… where are you hiding them?" she asks, curious.
"They're inside me. They only appear when I release my power." You reply, smiling.
You turn to Kaito, and you see him working in silence, having been for a while. Then suddenly, he sighs.
You say goodbye to the mysterious girl and approach him.
"Eri, can I tell you something?"
You stop. You look at him.
"Tell me."
He smiles, but it's a sad smile. Very sad.
"I admire you. So much."
His hands grip a medical glove.
"I already know you like someone else, you already told me. I admire you not for your quirk, or because you're good at school, blah blah blah. But I admire you... for who you are."
You lower your eyes, shrugging.
"Kaito, I don't deserve to…"
"Relax. I'm not asking for anything, I told you. I know your eyes…are elsewhere."
Your breath catches.
"I'm not saying I'm happy, okay?" he adds. "But…I respect you. And I want to be close to you, the way you want."
The silence that follows is painful. It's strange to know you wanted to hear those same words spoken by someone else. And it all hurts. You think about him. You think about Aizawa-sensei. You think about how he looked at you until yesterday, and how he hasn't looked at you at all since this morning. But you can't say anything, and you don't want to say anything.
Kaito tilts his head slightly to the side, watching you for a second too long. Then he shakes his head slowly, with a sweet smile.
"I didn't mean to put you in trouble."
"You didn't put me in trouble."
"You realize you only smile when you talk about him, right?"
You stiffen.
"No…that's not true."
"Eri, trust me, I can see it from afar." He whispers as he puts the vials back in their places. "That he makes you suffer…I don't like it at all."
A moment's pause.
"But that you love him…that's very clear."
You look down. Those damned tears again. Your chest hurts.
And as you close the locker, in this empty infirmary lit only by a flickering white light, you realize that Kaito is right, unfortunately.
Completely right.
And yet… you don't know if it's a victory or a condemnation.
***
That evening, after your shift at the infirmary, you return home. When you return, all the lights are off, it's the dead of night, and you can't sleep. Even though the house is silent, the sounds of the festival and the shouting still ring in your head, and every word Aizawa-sensei says that comes to mind feels like it's trying to hammer your brain until it's consumed.
You think back to that... 'I shouldn't be around you,' as well as the 'You've become important,' and last but not least, 'It's necessary to move away.' You grit your teeth until your jaw tightens, and you feel a strange taste of blood on your tongue. It hurts, it hurts too much.
But it certainly can't end like this. You have to think of a solution.
You rest your forehead against the window of your room, the tall, large one. You pause nearby to gaze at the city, your beautiful city, which you love and want to protect with all your might. The lights in the distance illuminate it like upside-down stars. On the streets, you can just make out a few cars passing here and there, slowly, and a few dark clouds approaching in the distance. For a moment, which seems so long, you feel like a child again: you see yourself as fragile, fearful, convinced of your worthlessness, faced with the imposing and powerful figure of your brother. That strange insecurity then transformed, over the years, into an internal struggle, which, with suffering and courage, helped you overcome enormous obstacles that you yourself had thought impossible.
Then you feel it. That strange sensation, you feel your heartbeat… different.
"I'm a hero in training," you murmur to yourself. "I can't live waiting for someone to pick me up. I have to become strong… just like you, Aizawa-sensei."
You dry your eyes with the back of your hand as you sit on the edge of the bed. You clasp your hands in your lap, fingers clenching and loosening in a nervous rhythm. You remember every detail of that night at the party, at Tess's house. You remember his hands, the way he touched you, almost by chance, but with a precision that gave you goosebumps. His voice, low and warm, whispering not to be afraid... each time the pain returns, sharper, more unbearable.
A shiver runs down your spine, and it's precisely now that you notice it: you're wet... between your legs. This desire, unexpected and overwhelming, joins your pain. Tears begin to slide down your cheeks for the umpteenth time, silent and stubborn. You don't want to cry. You don't want to feel so weak... but your body has a will of its own, and the memory of him (of his touch, his smell, and the way he'd grabbed you by the hips that night) is too intense to ignore.
With a trembling sigh, you lie down on the bed, sinking your shoulders into the soft mattress. Your hands slide naturally under your shirt, fingers caressing the pale skin of your belly...then slowly move up towards your breasts. You close your eyes, and in your mind, it's Aizawa-sensei's hands touching you, squeezing you, making you lose control. A moan escapes your lips as his fingers linger on your nipples, already sensitive and hard. You imagine his mouth, beautiful and soft, and your desire grows. It burns through your veins.
You spread your legs slightly, but to relieve the pressure building between them, you press your thighs together. One hand slides down, under the waistband of your shorts, and when your fingers reach your clit, already swollen and wet, a shiver runs down your spine.
"God…how I want you…" You whisper, your hand moving in slow circles, following the rhythm of your memories. You also remember the way he penetrated you, confident and deep, as if he knew every inch of your body better than you did yourself. You remember his moans, the way he told you not to hold back, to let go yourself.
The pleasure builds, and you begin to move your hips in sync with your fingers, as your breathing becomes increasingly labored, almost painful.
"Shouta..."
His name escapes your lips...your fingers grow even more moist as you penetrate yourself with increasingly rapid movements, your thumb pressing on your swollen, throbbing clit. You feel your body tense, your muscles contracting in anticipation of that moment when everything would explode, when you could, if only for a moment, forget the pain.
But then, between one moan and the next, something inside you stops. It's not just the pleasure that overwhelms you, it's also the realization of how fragile you are, how vulnerable your desire for him makes you. And in that moment, as your body trembles on the verge of orgasm, you realize a truth that burns more than desire itself: you can't let Aizawa-sensei define you. You can't let your unrequited love consume you.
With an effort that costs you every ounce of willpower, you pull your hand away, your breath coming out in gasps. Your heart is pounding, your body still throbbing with need, but your mind is suddenly clear. You raise yourself up on your elbows, your gaze fixed on the window, where the sky is turning red and purple, as if burning in a final, glorious farewell to the night.
A small, fragile smile curves your lips.
"I don't need him to be strong," you whisper. "I'll be strong for myself."
The silence of the room, after this revelation, seems to envelop you, like an embrace. There is no judgment in this moment, no pain, just you and the awareness that, for the first time, you are choosing yourself. You get out of bed, your legs still a little shaky, and approach the mirror on the wall. Your reflection sends you images of your tousled hair, your flushed cheeks, your bright but determined eyes. You are no longer just the girl in love, lost in her impossible dreams. You are something more. You are a woman who is learning to fight, to live, to exist beyond the shadows of others.
You run a hand through your hair, taking a deep breath. The desire for him hasn't faded, and it never will. You know it will always be there, in a corner of your heart, but now you also know you don't want to be a prisoner of that feeling anymore. You have to find your own strength, your own path. You want to learn to fly well on your own wings, without waiting for someone to give you permission to do so.
Outside, dawn is breaking, giving way to a beautiful sunny day. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time, then turn around and lie down on the bed. Whatever happens, you must face it alone. And this time, you will truly be free.