Band practice was supposed to be a safe place.

You’d gotten used to pretending. Smiling for your bandmates. Laughing during sound checks. Shoving sleeves down your arms even when they stuck to healing bruises. And you were good at it, too—so good that even you started to believe it sometimes.

Your “family” came.

Not your real one. Koichi, Pop☆Step, Knuckleduster, and Aizawa insisted on coming to your after-school rehearsal, something in your chest twisted. They didn’t just want to watch. They wanted to see you. Maybe even protect you. You weren’t sure what to do with that.

They sat in the bleachers under heavy disguises, muttering sarcastic commentary. You rolled your eyes at them when you saw Koichi waving a tiny sign that said “GO KEYBOARD GREMLIN.” Pop blew you a kiss. Even Aizawa managed a slight smirk, arms crossed. Like a father proud of his kid.

And then—

Your dad walked in.

Not walked—stormed.

His eyes locked onto you across the room, seething.

“You think this makes you special? All this noise?” Your fingers froze above the keys. “Please don’t—” He didn’t let you finish.

One hard slap. That’s all it took.

The room went dead quiet. You didn’t cry. Didn’t react. You just said, low and controlled, “Don’t make a scene again. Not here. People are watching.”

He sneered, like it meant nothing. “If you talk back again, I’ll make sure they can’t look at you without flinching.”

And just like that—he turned and left.

By the time Koichi sprang to his feet, by the time Knuckleduster muttered “I’m gonna end that guy,” it was too late. Your dad had vanished out the doors. Pop had already bolted after him but came back shaking her head.

They tried. But he was gone.

You just stood there. Everyone watching. The side of your face stinging.

Aizawa didn’t follow. He didn’t yell. He didn’t promise revenge. He just walked over and knelt beside you on the stage steps, voice quiet.

“You don’t have to act okay.”

You looked at him, finally—at the only adult who’d ever stayed.

“…You still gonna come to my next one?” you asked, voice barely audible.

Aizawa’s nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kid.”

“…I don’t want to go home,” you whispered.

Aizawa nodded, warm and firm. “Then you won’t.” He stated, like a father protecting his kid.