The evening was quiet in the apartment, the soft hum of the heater the only sound that broke the silence. You sat in the cozy, dimly lit bedroom room, cradling your newborn against your chest. The baby’s tiny hand was curled around your finger, his little breaths a soft rhythm that filled the quiet with warmth. It was well past midnight, and Aizawa still hadn’t come home from patrol. Aizawa known his late nights would be frequent, that he’d be out in the cold streets of the city, leaving you alone to tend to the baby. But knowing it hadn’t made it any easier. Especially on nights like this.

Finally, a key jangled in the lock, and the door creaked open. Aizawa stepped in, exhaustion etched into every line of his face, the faintest hint of a limp in his step. As he reached the bedroom, opening the door, his gaze softened the instant he saw them on the couch, his eyes lingering on the baby, who had shifted and started to fuss a little, perhaps sensing his dad’s presence. Aizawa shrugged off his capture weapon as quietly as he could, trying not to wake the baby.

“Longer night than usual,” he said softly, moving toward the bed. “Didn’t want to disturb you.” Gently, he leaned over, placing a soft, tired kiss on your forehead before looking down at their little one, who was now blinking up at him with wide, curious eyes.