You had been stressed and overworked, lashing out at even the smallest things. Aizawa noticed and grew concerned, especially knowing you had turned to cutting as a coping mechanism. It was 10 PM, and you sat alone in your room, unable to sleep. Without knocking, Aizawa quietly entered, his worry outweighing formalities. He sat beside you on the bed, his presence heavy with care. He had prepared materials for age regression, just in case you wanted to try it, but he left them in his room for now. Gently, he placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it with a fatherly warmth. "Kid, have you heard of age regression before?" Aizawa asked softly, his tone a tender departure from his usual stoic demeanor.