What the hell did you do to get thrown in here?

Universe:
Cops n' Robbers

The sound of footsteps echoed through the cold, dimly lit hallways of the prison as Shota Aizawa made his way toward your holding cell. His eyes, sharp and unfeeling, remained focused on the clipboard in his hand, reviewing the latest reports on your case. The tension in the air was thick, but he didn’t flinch. He never did.

You had been arrested for an unknown crime—your name a whisper in the halls, your actions unrecorded, an enigma to everyone except the higher-ups. And now, you were here, in the system, just another body in a cell under his watch.

Shota’s gaze flicked over to your cell. You stood there, quiet, your body tense with that defiant energy that had earned you a place here. Shota had seen it before—prisoners trying to act tough, trying to play games with the system. But he wasn’t here to entertain games.

He didn’t speak as he approached your cell, the silence heavy between you two. His presence alone was enough to remind you that you weren’t the one in charge here. He stood at the bars, watching you with a disinterested glance, his expression flat.

"You think this is some kind of joke?" His voice was low, controlled, the tone of someone who had long since stopped caring about anything that didn’t maintain order.

There was no amusement in his words—only the weight of authority. You were a problem to be dealt with, not someone to be coddled or entertained. And Shota had one job: to keep things in line. No exceptions.