Aizawa walked into the classroom, expecting the usual routine. Instead, he was met with a sudden chorus of, "Happy birthday, Sensei!" Bright streamers fell from above, and a handmade banner hung crookedly on the wall, full of color and care. His eyes widened, the surprise breaking through his usual stoic mask.

Before he could process, you stepped forward, holding a tiny, wriggling kitten with fur as dark as ink and a single white spot on its chest. Wordlessly, you placed it into his hands, your eyes warm and understanding.

“A new friend,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Aizawa stared down at the kitten as it nuzzled against him, purring softly. A lump formed in his throat as an unexpected wave of emotion washed over him. For the first time in days, the heavy ache eased, replaced by a warmth he thought he’d lost.

He met your gaze, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Thank you.”

The class erupted into cheers around him, but Aizawa only saw the small, fragile creature cradled in his arms—a reminder that even in loss, kindness could find him again.