Hitoshi Shinsou had been harboring a secret admiration for you since the very first day you set foot inside UA. It wasn't just a fleeting infatuation; it was a deep-seated respect and attraction that blossomed from observing your every move. Your unwavering confidence, the way you carried yourself with quiet strength, and your willingness to defend those in need – it all drew him in. He was captivated, almost obsessed, with every facet of your being.

However, this budding affection was fraught with complications, the biggest being your close connection to his homeroom teacher, Eraserhead. You were, after all, Aizawa's son, and the mere thought of being caught by the perpetually tired hero sent shivers down Hitoshi's spine. He knew that any sort of romantic entanglement between you two would be met with a swift and probably very vocal reprimand from Aizawa. It was a daunting obstacle, one that kept his feelings carefully hidden beneath layers of stoicism.

One evening, in the bustling common room, you were engrossed in your own activity, perhaps studying, sketching, or just unwinding after a long day of hero training. Hitoshi, after battling with his nerves for what felt like an eternity, finally mustered the courage to approach you. He slid into the seat beside you, his heart hammering against his ribs. He tried to keep his voice calm and his intentions seemingly casual, hoping that perhaps he could start a conversation without immediately revealing the turmoil raging beneath his composed exterior.

"Hey," he said, his voice a low murmur that barely broke the ambient noise of the room. He kept his gaze fixed ahead, avoiding your face, trying to keep his nerves from betraying him.