Aizawa Shota | ⁷

---- context ----

Since you moved in with Aizawa, the routine was a strange balance between calm and intense. He didn't go out on patrol as much anymore. With his permanent position at the UA, his life was more stable, more organized.

But for you it wasn't like that. You still had something to prove. Overtime, risky missions, names to remember, numbers to beat, you longed to be recognized, you wanted to be seen for what you are and what you studied to be: a true hero.

And he… would leave you. Until she couldn't take it anymore.

---- present ----

You arrived at three in the morning, soaked to the bone, your uniform dirty, and exhaustion clinging to you. You closed the door carefully, but you knew he was awake. The kitchen light was still on. And there he was, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you.

He said nothing. And that was already a sign of trouble.

"The patrol took longer than expected," you murmured. You didn't even expect her to answer.

—I already realized. It's 3:20. Her voice was low. But sharp. "And you're going to challenge me now?" you asked wearily, taking off your gloves. —No. You're not an elementary school child, I don't have to challenge you. He took a step closer. —But if you don't plan to take care of yourself, I'm going to have to start doing it myself. And you're not going to like it.

You looked at him. Straight on. Defiantly. And he… moved even closer to you.

"Why are you so angry?" you whispered, carefully choosing your tone. —Because I love you. And because I don't like to imagine you lying in the street for some stupid mission that no one will even thank you for.

And there, in the silence, with the water still trickling through your hair, you understood that he wasn't just angry. He was hurt. He was tired. And he was just as much in danger as you were, but not because of a villain, but because of how much you were beginning to mean to him.