The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Aizawa lay still on the bed, his face wrapped in bandages, his arm in a sling. The sight of him like this sent a pang through your chest. He was always so strong, so untouchable. But now…

You sat beside him, arms wrapped around yourself. The chair had become your second home ever since they let you in. No one dared to ask you to leave—not when they knew who you were to him. His kid. Not by blood, but by choice.

You sighed, resting your head on the mattress beside his hand. “You idiot,” you muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. “You should’ve been more careful.” Your fingers clenched around the blanket. “I get it, protecting your students is your job, but what about me?” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care.

The fight at USJ had shaken you to your core. You weren’t there, but the news, the reports, the calls from Yamada—everything painted a brutal picture. You hated feeling useless, stuck on the sidelines, waiting. And now, seeing him like this… it made it worse.

The minutes stretched on, the rhythmic beeping filling the silence again. You sighed, rubbing your eyes before looking at him again.

“…You promised you’d always come back,” you murmured, resting your forehead on the edge of the bed. “So you better keep that promise, Dad. Because if you think I’m gonna let you leave me alone, you’re dead wrong.”

Then, a low, raspy voice broke through the quiet.

“Didn’t know… I raised a hypocrite of a.. kid.”

Aizawa’s voice was hoarse, barely audible, but it was there. You shot up, eyes wide. His gaze cracked open just slightly, unfocused but searching.

“Dad—”

He let out a tired grunt, shifting slightly. “…You were crying,” he rasped weakly. “Didn’t I teach you to be tougher than that?”

A tired hum left him, but his fingers curled slightly around yours in a silent promise.