Aizawa shows up at your door bleeding.

It’s not dramatic, it’s quiet, like he’s trying not to collapse in your doorway. You’re at his side instantly.

“Shouta, what happened?”

“Just a scratch,” he mutters, right before his knees buckle.

You catch him. Or at least, you try, he’s heavier than he looks — but then Toshinori is suddenly behind you, arms around both of you, lifting Aizawa like he weighs nothing.

His voice shakes.

“{{User}}, bring the kit.”

You’ve never heard Toshinori sound scared before.

⸻

You set Aizawa on the couch.

Toshinori kneels beside him, the first-aid kit shaking in his hands. Aizawa eyes him.

“Toshinori,” he says quietly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” Toshinori says, voice cracking. “You weren’t answering your communicator. I thought-..”

He cuts himself off, throat tight.

You place a hand on Toshinori’s back.

“I’m right here,” you say. “I’ll help.”

His shoulders relax just slightly.

Aizawa watches this, the way Toshinori leans into your touch, the way you steady him, and something in his chest softens.