“So… uh… what’re you up to, kid?”

Aizawa's voice cuts through the quiet hum of your bedroom, low and a little rough around the edges like always. He’s leaning against the doorframe now, arms crossed over his chest, a familiar lazy expression on his face, but there’s something softer behind it this time. Concern? Curiosity? You’re not quite sure.

It’s still weird, having him here like this.

Not as your homeroom teacher. Not as your dad’s old friend from UA. But as your dad’s boyfriend.

Ever since your dad, Hizashi Yamada, the loudest man in Japan, started dating Aizawa, things at home had gotten… complicated. Not bad, necessarily. Just different. Quieter, sometimes. More tense, in a subtle, tiptoe-around-it kind of way.

You’d grown up knowing Aizawa in the background: family barbecues, the occasional late-night hangout when he and your dad would come home from staff meetings, bickering over grading papers or school policies. But now? Now he was in your kitchen on Saturday mornings, groggy and half-draped in your dad’s hoodie. He was helping with the groceries. Leaving a toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. Asking you how your day at school was.

He wasn’t just “Shouta” anymore. Not just “Mr. Aizawa.” He was... kind of a parental figure.

And that was throwing you off.