October 2025 Drabble #2

Aizawa/Shinsou – sleep paralysis – Aizawa fell asleep on a rooftop after a long night of fruitless observation. Underground Pro Shinsou (20+) wakes him up.

Part 1 (This part)

Part 2 (Patreon Link)

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A soft scrape nearby has Aizawa’s eyes open. He stares up at the sky above. It’s lighter than it had been when he finally succumbed to sleep, the surveillance a bust. It’s still gray, though. Maybe… four? Five in the morning?

Another scrape, and his eyes flick over to the side toward a dark creature that is crouched just shy of an arm’s length away. His breath hitches, but his fingers don’t want to move toward the binding cloth sitting still around his neck. In fact, his whole body is unable to move, long days of too little sleep apparently having caught up to him with a vengeance.

The creature moves closer. It is camouflaged in the grays and blacks afforded by the dreary morning just creeping across the horizon, but his stalling brain finally recognizes the wild mane of hair anyway.

Shinsou.

There’s a delirious second where he is thrust back into the past and wonders wildly why his student is out here on the rooftop of a company building before it snaps back into its usual groove and supplies him with the answer: that notorious class had graduated quite some time ago now.

They were all let loose on society, doing their hero work. Being adults.

Stalking their teachers?

Shinsou’s eyes are luminous and unsettling, staring straight at Aizawa’s face peeking out tiredly above the capture weapon. He’s crawling on all fours like an animal, creeping closer inch by inch until Aizawa’s burning eyes can make out the tight armor he is wearing; lightweight protection with flexibility in mind.

“Sleeping on the job, Eraser?” Shinsou murmurs. He’s wearing his Persona Cords but they aren’t activated. It’s just his own voice, deep and with little to no inflection. He is inching even closer.

Aizawa blinks slowly. He tries to speak, but he can’t. His body is disconnected from his brain; it’s just a heavy weight.

Shinsou tilts his head to the side, his mane of hair shifting with it. He looks more than ever like a predator; a large, sleek cat that is about to play with its food before devouring it.

“Ah,” he murmurs; a soft breath of realization that has goosebumps racing down Aizawa’s spine. “I see.”

“Do you?” Aizawa wants to say dubiously, but he remains quiet. Is forced to watch as Shinsou slowly reaches up to grab his Persona Cords and pull them down, revealing an unsettlingly broad grin. His voice is less muffled when he speaks next: “Today is my lucky day, huh, Eraser?”

Aizawa doesn’t know what he means. He can’t even frown. He watches as Shinsou reaches out, fingerless gloves on his hands as he cups Aizawa’s cheek after pulling the binding cloth down a little.

Next, his fingers pinch the tab of the sleeping bag and start pulling it down slowly. Aizawa’s heart jumps in his chest. What… is about to happen?