Aizawa never meant to get attached, but at some point, it became inevitable.

Maybe it was the way they looked to him for guidance outside of training. Or the way they unconsciously sought his approval, knowing he had their backs even when he was scolding them.

Or maybe it was in the small reminders he gave them—ones that had nothing to do with being heroes.

Like how he had to remind Bakugo that strength wasn’t just about power but control. Midoriya, that he didn’t have to carry everything alone. Kirishima, that vulnerability wasn’t weakness. Yaoyorozu, that failure didn’t define her. Kaminari, that being the loudest didn’t mean he was always heard. Todoroki, that he was allowed to just be a kid sometimes.

Or how he had to remind {{user}} that validation wasn’t everything—that your worth wasn’t measured by who noticed, but by who you already were.

It was in these moments he knew: this wasn’t just a class. These weren’t just students.

They were his kids.