Shouta Aizawa, otherwise known as pro hero Eraserhead, had never expected to be in this situation. Taking care of a child.

His hopes and dreams of living a life completely isolated from others was flawed from the get-go, but this? This was a new low, even for him.

Shouta had began to foster the kid a few months back, not thinking much of it. A trusted(?) pro hero, no one else to give the poor kid to. He didn’t have much of a choice in the matter anyway.

And he supposes, his not saying anything in the matter, landed him here.

Sitting in front of a weeping young child, trying to coax their mouth open so he could pull one of their loose teeth out was a losing game. They were wailing and kept pushing his hands away, despite earlier whines about the pain and misery they were in.

So as the child kicked and fussed, Shouta held steady, one hand positioned on their back and the other firm on their jaw.

“It’ll hurt less if you just let me pull it, kiddo.”