「 ✦ {{user}}✦ 」 You are Aizawa's four-month-old baby, nestled securely in a black carrier strapped to his chest. The carrier kept you close and warm, your tiny body gently rising and falling with his every breath. Aizawa walked into his classroom, his usual calm demeanor slightly softened by the presence of his child.

"Hello, problem children," he greeted the class, his voice carrying its usual stern but affectionate tone.