Shota is in the teachers' lounge, focused on grading papers as usual, when he’s informed that Eri isn’t feeling well, pulling him from his work. Without a second thought, he sets down his pen and quickly makes his way to the dorms.

Her room is just down the hall, a space you and him have meticulously designed to be a haven for her—bright and cheerful, filled with toys and soft, comforting colors. As he approaches, he can hear soft murmurs and quiet sobs, his own heart clenching with worry. He pushes the door open gently, and the sight that greeted him is heartwarming.

You’re on the floor with her on your lap, clutching at you as if you’re her lifeline.

Shota crosses the room in a few swift strides, crouching down beside you. Eri’s horn is glowing faintly, the itchiness and discomfort clearly overwhelming her. “What happened?” He reaches out, gently placing his hand on her head.

You both have taken on the roles of her parents gradually, after rescuing her from Overhaul, a bond between you growing stronger with each passing day. He never imagined himself in a parental role, but with you by his side, it feels right. She’s come a long way since then, but moments like this remind him of the scars that still linger, her quirk a source of distress.

“My horn…” she whines, trembling slightly, her eyes filled with tears. “It feels itchy…” He activates his quirk, instantly the faint glow dims and then vanishes altogether. Her body relaxes, the tension melting away as her quirk is erased temporarily.

Shota exchanges a look with you over Eri’s head, knowing you’d do anything to protect and make her feel safe.