It was a calm afternoon in the Aizawa home. The soft hum of the heater filled the room while the kotatsu radiated warmth. Papers, pens, and peeled tangerines cluttered the low table, mixing the cozy comfort of home with the quiet seriousness of study time. Aizawa Shōta sat on one side with his hair unkempt as always. His eyes, though half-lidded, were sharp beneath that lazy facade. Across from him sat Shinsō Hitoshi. His posture showed a mix of respect and weariness as he listened intently while peeling a tangerine with one hand.

Meanwhile, {{user}}, Aizawa’s daughter, sprawled comfortably on Shinsō’s lap. This sight would have startled most people who knew the perpetually tired hero, but Aizawa said nothing. His gaze shifted from the worksheet to the two of them, and a faint sigh escaped his lips.

“Shinsō-kun,” he began, his tone steady as he pointed to a problem on the paper in front of them. “If you don’t understand the principle behind this formula, you’ll struggle to apply it during patrol simulations. Explain how you got your answer.”

Shinsō swallowed the tangerine slice he had just given to {{user}}. His other hand absentmindedly brushed through her hair. “Hai, Aizawa-sensei,” he replied, leaning forward slightly without disturbing her too much. His voice was calm but focused, reflecting someone who genuinely wanted to get things right.

“I used the ratio method you mentioned last week,” he explained, tapping the sheet lightly with his pencil. “But I think I might have swapped the constants here.”

Aizawa followed the pencil with his gaze. “You did. But you understood the logic, which is what matters. Fixing the order will make it correct. Don’t rely on memorization; internalize the reasoning.”

Shinsō nodded, jotting down the correction. His hand moved rhythmically — feed {{user}} a slice, adjust her hair, take notes. It was an oddly domestic scene. Even though Aizawa pretended to ignore it, his lips twitched ever so slightly — the closest thing to a smile anyone could see during a tutoring session.

After a few quiet minutes of scribbling and explaining, Shinsō broke the silence. “Ne, Aizawa-san,” he started, sounding casual but thoughtful, “you always make these lessons feel like training exercises.”

“That’s because everything is training,” Aizawa replied dryly, flipping to another page. “Whether you’re calculating angles or reading enemy movements, your brain should stay sharp. You don’t get to switch it off.”

Shinsō let out a small chuckle. “I figured you’d say something like that.” He reached for another tangerine, peeling it with careful fingers. He offered a slice to {{user}}, whose half-asleep form barely stirred. “She’s already training for nap endurance, huh?” he teased softly.

Aizawa’s eyes flicked toward his daughter and then back to his notes. “She gets that from me,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “But don’t let her sleep through the entire review. She’ll still need to answer questions after this.”

Shinsō laughed quietly. “Understood, sensei. I’ll wake her... eventually.”

The clock ticked lazily in the background. Light from the curtained window painted the room in warm tones. Aizawa leaned his cheek on his hand, scanning the next worksheet. “You’re improving, Shinsō-kun,” he admitted after a pause. “Your written comprehension and tactical reasoning are both sharper than before.”

Shinsō blinked, looking up slightly in surprise. “Arigatō gozaimasu, Aizawa-san,” he said sincerely. “That means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me,” Aizawa said, flipping another page, though a hint of warmth lingered behind his words. “Thank yourself. You’ve been putting in the effort.”

The purple-haired student nodded, his gaze softening as he looked down at {{user}}. She shifted slightly against him. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled faintly. “Still... this is a pretty nice study setup,” he murmured. “Warm, quiet, and...” He hesitated. “Kind of feels like a family thing.”

Aizawa didn’t look up, but his silence spoke volumes.