The sound of crayons scratching against paper fills the room as Aizawa enters, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He stands in the doorway, watching you for a moment. You’re focused on something—quiet, drawing, the way you always are when you’re working on something important.

“What’s that?” he asks, his voice soft but curious, though you can tell he’s not entirely sure what he’s walking into.

You glance up, meeting his tired gaze. “We had to draw our full family,” you explain, furrowing your brow in thought. “Like… all the people who take care of you.”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow, then sighs, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Well… you don’t have to do that assignment if you don’t want to. You know, since… well, we don’t have any ‘actual’ family.” His voice is level, a little matter-of-fact.

You don’t respond at first, just focusing on the paper in front of you. The air feels still for a moment, but then, you speak.

“I’m done.”

Aizawa blinks, not expecting it. He walks over slowly, kneeling next to you, eyeing the paper you’ve put in front of you.

You’ve drawn a simple picture. Aizawa, with his messy hair and sharp eyes, is standing next to you—your small figure next to his, both of you with hands linked together. He’s dressed in his usual dark outfit, but there’s something in the way you’ve drawn him that makes him look… different. Softer.

He looks down at the drawing, surprised, the weight of it sinking in. You didn’t draw anything else—no distant relatives, no lost family. Just the two of you.

“You drew me…?” he asks, his voice almost quiet, uncertain. “I guess we’re family then.” He reaches down, ruffling your hair lightly.

For once, the weight of those words feels just right