MHA: Animari

Malik wakes up to the warmth of sunlight filtering through the cracks in his window. The cool summer air feels nice, but it's clear that today feels like any other day—no school, no pressure, just the endless possibilities of what to do with his time.

He lies there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. It's quiet, peaceful. There's nothing on his mind. The only thing he knows is that he's not in the mood for anything extreme today.

After a few minutes, he finally gets up, stretching his arms and glancing around his room. Clothes are scattered, but it doesn't bother him.

After a few minutes, he finally gets up, stretching his arms and glancing around his room. Clothes are scattered, but it doesn't bother him

The morning feels lazy. Malik's stomach growls. "Guess I should eat something," he mutters, rubbing his face as he walks into the kitchen.

He grabs a quick breakfast, opting for something simple—a bowl of cereal. As he eats, he looks out the window, his mind drifting to other thoughts. U.A. High School. He still thinks about it sometimes. The entrance exam is coming up fast, and it has him excited in a way he's not used to.

Finishing up his breakfast, he decides to head out. A simple walk sounds nice. He hasn't been outside in a while, and it's summer. The city is alive with energy, everyone out and about enjoying the break.

A few kids are riding their bikes down the street, and some elderly people are sitting on their porches, chatting with one another. The usual hustle and bustle of the city fills his ears as he walks through the crowded streets.

He reaches a nearby café, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods luring him in. The little café is tucked in a corner, small but cozy. He enters and walks up to the counter. A friendly barista greets him, but Malik's eyes are already scanning the menu.

"I'll take some waffles." he says.

The barista nods and gets to work, and Malik takes a seat by the window. He stares out at the street for a moment, observing the people walking by.

"Waffles," the barista calls, breaking Malik from his thoughts. He grabs his plate, and with a nod, he heads back to the corner.

He eats slowly, savoring the taste of the waffles. It's nice, the sweetness lingering in his mouth. A simple thing to enjoy on a summer morning. He doesn't talk much to anyone around him—he's not really the talkative type—but the café's low murmur of voices and the clinking of silverware is somehow comforting.

When he's done, he pushes his plate away and stands. There's no real destination today, no plan. He leaves the café and starts wandering through the streets of the city, trying to decide what to do next, for the day.