soulmate | bnha soulmate au [On Haitus]

a pain, isn't it? | aizawa shouta

AU where each soulmate's dominant-handed wrists are connected by a single, red string.

todo here! I'm sorry this is so late! Also, I know you said fluff, but it's a long oneshot so just be patient while reading uwu

@multi-trashed hope you enjoy, lovely!

aizawa shouta | (2050) words.

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Pull, pull, pull. ___ furrowed her brows as she followed the crimson string leading to her fate. It's been three years and almost all of the money that she'd spent almost eighteen years saving up. Still, the string wouldn't as much as tug back. She wasn't close.

___ was a very stubborn girl from the moment she was born. She had something her parents liked to call the 'princess syndrome' - a 'syndrome' at which she'd always be crying and throwing tantrums unless someone actually picked her up or gave her attention.

She always got what she wanted, when she wanted it. It's what her parents did. They were famous and full of themselves all in rich heritage.

Until, you know, they died from that villain attack oh, so many years ago.

She whined as she continued through the twists and turns of Japan, looking around apathetically as she continued to follow the red line. She'd given up on tugging. She's going to be a dog on a leash if she has to - and all she had to do was catch up.

⚜⚜⚜

Nothing ended up happening on that day, and when she entered Yuuei again with heavy bags under her eyes her fellow teachers already knew what she'd done yesterday.

___ didn't even bother giving anyone a warm welcome, instead of marching over to the meeting desk and resting her head on the cool, hardwood.

"Tough luck, (L)___," came the tired murmur of one of her closest friends. 

"Shut up," came her miserable reply, merely turning her head to look up at the raggedy-haired Shouta Aizawa sitting next to her.

He scoffed pleasantly as he brought his mug to his lips, taking in the sweet taste of apple cider.

"It's a cold ass month," came his colloquy, "if you continue your search to find prince charming, it's almost unequivocal you'll end up with a cold."

___ chose to remain silent, earning a discernable frown from him.

"Why do you care so much, anyway? It's a pain, isn't it? Following your faith so blindly?"

The question popped from his lips.

It was always the same question. He'd ask her this every day, yet she'd never answer.

He knew that. He knew her.

"Because I'm selfish," she replied.

He almost stiffened, finding the reply shocking.

He turned to her, however, apathetically boring into her determined gaze.

"I'm selfish, and I want to see them. I want to be happy," she declared.

It was hard, looking at her.

He didn't know what to do with the knife slitting open his chest.

He just stood there, a knot growing in his throat.

And why?

Because she was mature enough to force out her reason for all of this?

Because she didn't care for the looks everyone gave her - the callings as if she was a child running on a fairy tale?