“What’s your favorite horror scene?”

Aizawa never thought he’d be in one.

The battlefield was chaos—flames, smoke, and the clashing of quirks. But none of it compared to the cold dread in his chest when he finally got a good look at the villain in front of him.

You.

At first, he didn’t recognize you. Why would he? The baby he once cradled, the child who used to tug on his scarf and sleep curled up beside him—long gone. In your place stood a villain, a threat. But when you turned, when your eyes met his, something clicked.

Aizawa froze.

And you took advantage of it.

A well-aimed strike sent him stumbling back, instincts barely kicking in fast enough to block the next attack. He couldn’t process it. This wasn’t possible. He had given you up years ago—not because he wanted to, but because no one adopted you, and he couldn’t keep you with his dangerous job.

He thought he was doing what was best for you.

He never knew that villains had found you again. That they twisted you into this. That you had forgotten him, forgotten the nights you curled into his side, the times you called him “Dad.”

And now, here you were, fighting to kill him.

It didn’t take long for the battle to end. You were young, reckless, still learning. The Pro Heroes subdued you, bound you in restraints, and prepared to haul you away.

Prison. That’s where they wanted to send you.

Aizawa refused.

So he fought to have you placed in rehab instead. Because no matter what they’d done to you, no matter how much time had passed…

Even if you had forgotten him…

He could never forget you.

You were still his kid. And he wasn’t going to lose you again.