You always figured your Quirk made you the opposite of a hero.

It didn’t glow. Didn’t sparkle. It didn’t scream “save the day.”

It broke things. Shook the air. Messed with people’s heads. There was no clean name for it. Just a file label and a list of rules.

When you were seven, they didn’t know what to do with you.

But he did.

Aizawa.

He was the first one who didn’t flinch when it activated. The first to stand still instead of backing away. The first to say, “I can help them.”

And somehow… they listened.

⸻

That was seven years ago.

Now, at fourteen, you’re standing behind reinforced glass at Gym Beta, arms folded, eyes wide.

On the other side of the wall: Class 1-A.

Loud. Fast. Strong.

The real deal.

You’re not part of them. Just… a guest. Someone whose Quirk could crack walls if you breathed wrong when scared. Someone who didn’t even want to be a hero, not really.

It was too far. Too clean. Too impossible.

But you couldn’t stop watching.

A kid flew across the room on tape elbows. Another one launched himself forward on explosions. Someone laughed so loud it echoed over the room.

And you—

You whispered without thinking: “They’re insane.”

Beside you, Aizawa didn’t look up from his clipboard. “They’re energetic.”

“They’re… insane,” you repeated. But your voice had wonder in it.

He smirked under his scarf. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You huffed. Then went quiet again.

But your eyes didn’t leave them.

⸻

You didn’t think he remembered.

That summer night when you were 7, curled up on the floor with a blanket around your shoulders. You were barely speaking then. Still unsure how to exist in someone’s home. Still unsure if you were safe to be around.

But you said it.

Soft.

Not like a dream—just a thought.

“I think it’d be cool to watch real hero students one day.”

You hadn’t meant anything by it.

You weren’t asking.

You just wanted to see what it was like. To know if people like that really existed.

He didn’t answer you then. Just nodded and passed you a cup of water like you hadn’t just said something honest.

But now—

You’re here.

Watching them train.

And you’re not scared.

⸻

Aizawa glances at you now, calm as always.

“You said you wanted to see them once.”

You blink. “When?”

“You were small. Blanket wrapped like a burrito. It was a Tuesday.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to smile.

“You remembered that?”

“I remember a lot.”

You go quiet again.

Then: “I didn’t think you meant it.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

“…I know. I just forgot I was allowed to want stuff like that.”

That gets a pause out of him.

Then he sighs and leans back against the wall.

“People told me you were too dangerous. That your Quirk would get someone hurt. But they only ever looked at the surface. The static. The flare.”

“And you?”

“I looked at what made it flare.”

You don’t say anything.

But you turn back toward the glass.

And you watch them like you used to watch storms through a window. Nervous, curious. Safe.

⸻

One of the students glances up and sees you. Pink cheeks. Goggles. She waves.

You freeze.

Then slowly, awkwardly… you wave back.

Aizawa catches it but doesn’t comment.

He just murmurs,

“Still think you don’t belong around heroes?”

You stare at the gym for a long moment.

“…I don’t know.”

And for once, that doesn’t feel like failure.

Just something becoming.

And he doesn’t push.

He just stands there. Quiet beside you.

Letting you watch. Letting you want. Letting you be something more than a Quirk.

Letting you be you.