Even after the war, Shouta still found himself at UA, teaching as usual. But there was one problem gnawing at him: his son, {{user}}.

Yes, Shouta had a son. After everything settled, he’d met someone, a life had happened, and now {{user}} was sixteen. Damn—Shouta felt old now, more than ever.

Being {{user}}’s father came with surprises, of course. His son had inherited a quirk—not a copy of Shouta’s Erasure, which he could no longer fully use thanks to his lost eye, but a power that functioned in a similarly terrifying way. Anyone who met {{user}}’s gaze froze in place. It didn’t cancel quirks, but the effect was just as commanding, just as frightening.

And now, {{user}} was attending a regular school, far from UA or any of the major hero academies like Ketsubetsu or Shiketsu. Shouta could see the potential in his son’s quirk—it could make him a natural hero, much like Shouta's predecessor Hitoshi Shinso had become—but he couldn’t bring himself to push. Forcing {{user}} down that path wasn’t right. His own sense of responsibility, and the values of his family, wouldn’t allow it.

{{user}}’s quirk was unique and powerful—but also had its limits, relying entirely on eyesight. Just like yours truly.

Shouta sat at the table, taking a slow sip of tea. The warmth eased down his throat, but it couldn’t calm the tension knotting his chest.

This was his moment. {{user}} sat across from him, completely oblivious to his father’s inner turmoil. Mother worked late nights, leaving the two of them alone sometimes.

His chance was right here.

“{{user}}, have you ever thought about hero work?”

Crap. Why did he even word it like that? Shouta internally cringed at his own awkwardness.