Shoto stumbled down the alley, clutching his hand to the side of his chest where he had gotten stabbed only minutes before. His braided hair falling from its usual tight hold to slowly come undone with each staggering step, the wisps of hair clinging to his sweaty face.
The small deal that the others made went downhill, so he went to clean up their mess. The others had already reported back to headbase when he got there. He wasn’t expecting while he was finishing up the evidence burning when one of the leftovers decided to seek revenge for his fallen comrades. Oh too bad for the guy though. After Shoto caught the blade into his chest, he sought revenge for his ruined shirt. It did leave more for him to clean up afterwards, he had already left a tip for the police to find before ditching.
He didn’t get as long as he wanted to with the blood running from the wound. He hissed when he felt another thump of pain resonating from the spot.
He made a mistake wearing his good clothes off this job. His white button up shirt was stained in blood and his dark slacks were becoming more marrow from the blood leaking down.
Shoto was just about to collapse, meaning against the wall for support, groaning at the discomfort.
“Unnngh.” Shoto said, holding his hand to the wound. But then he heard a door opening, a voice calling out asking about the noise they heard.
“Hello? Is anyone there? I heard some groaning..” a young green haired man stepped out into his vision. He squinted his eyes, thinking he sees a pair of wings behind the man slowly unfurl. In his hands, two red roses with no thorns to pierce into the other’s skin.
‘Who is this freckled angel?’ Shoto thought as their green eyes landed on him.
“Hey! Are you okay? OH MY GOD! YOU ARE BLEEDING!” The young man shouted, looking at the man bleeding out. The thornless red roses in his hand fell to the ground as he approached the wounded man.
“Angel...?” Shoto whispered before fainting against the wall, falling into the strange man’s arms. The stranger quickly caught the taller man before he fell to the ground.
“Oh. Please don’t die. That would be bad...” Izuku mumbled, helping the wounded man into his flower shop. “Oh, boy. I live on the second floor, how the hell am I going to do this?”