Fiddling with the white sheets, I zone out of the conversation around me, tracing the small blue patterns on the edges of the fabric. Several minutes pass, before the room slowly becomes quiet as nurses wheel out my empty tray and plate of food and other unnecessary equipment. Heavy footsteps near the side of my bed, stopping in front of a chair, it screeching lightly as it's pulled forward. The person sits on the edge of their seat, leaning forward with their elbows rested on their knees. They wait a moment, allowing me more time to speak at my own pace.
"Y/N?" The deep, male voice echoes in my head. I tear my eyes from my bedding, meeting his tired, dark, and droopy ones.
"A-aizawa Sensei." I stutter, eyes immediately brimming with tears at his expression. As usual, it's stoic and tired, but this time mixed with worry and fear.
"How're you feeling?" I look away, re-immersing myself with my previous engagement, finding a small loose thread.
"Fine." I state bluntly. He sighs heavily, pinching the skin between his eyes, at the top of his nose.
"Y/N..."
"The doctors said I would heal up quickly. I'll barely even have a scar-."
"You know that's not what I mean." I remain silent, avoiding any eye contact. "Hey." He places a hand on the top of my head, ruffling my hair slightly. Gently, he pushes the back of my head back, making me look even a little bit at him. "I know something else is going on." I shake my head.
"I'm fine Sensei."
"No, you're not. I can tell." I look into his eyes again. "You were attacked at your work study, no, ambushed, and were critically injured. You. Are. Not. Fine." His voice is stern and serious. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering, tears slowly slipping down my face, struggling to maintain my composure. Silence fills the room, occasionally broken up by small sobs. Creaking of his chair is followed by the ruffling of my sheets, the bedding dips beside me. Long and slender arms wrap around my shaking frame. One placing its hand on my shoulder, while the other lands on my head, gently shifting my hair. I lean into his chest, gripping onto the soft material of his gray and worn scarf and his black long sleeve shirt. I sob, letting out all my pain and grief, his arms squeezing me tighter.
"You're alright now Y/N. Everything's going to be alright."