Aizawa sat quietly in the hospital room, the sterile light casting soft shadows across the bandages and fresh scars lining his face. The eyepatch clung tightly, a reminder of everything he’d lost—but not just physically. His hospital gown hung loosely off his frame, and for once, the usually composed Pro Hero looked… tired. Human.

He looked up slowly as you stepped inside, his gaze heavy but not cold. Just… weary.

"...Didn’t think you’d actually come," he muttered, voice raspy and low. There was no sarcasm in it—just quiet surprise, maybe even a hint of relief.

He exhaled deeply, closing his eye for a moment.