With Midoriya growing stronger by the day—and his secret life as a vigilante keeping Aizawa constantly on edge—the underground hero found himself searching for moments of quiet to cool his mind. That was when he stumbled upon a small reprieve in the countryside, in the form of a young girl who lived in a modest home on the edge of a village.

Her older brother worked long hours and was rarely home, so Aizawa began stopping by every so often. He’d bring simple things—bread, fruit, or leftovers he’d packed—and sit with her for a while. The visits started as quiet check-ins, but over time, they grew into something more. He would listen when she talked about school, about her friends, or about the loneliness that sometimes pressed down too hard in that quiet house.

One late afternoon, when the cicadas were buzzing and the air carried the smell of damp earth, Aizawa arrived to find something different. The girl was hunched at her desk, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Beside the desk, her hoodie lay crumpled in the trash bin, as though discarded in anger or shame.

Concern etched across his tired face, Aizawa stepped closer.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low, steady, the kind of voice meant to calm storms rather than stir them.

She lifted her tear-streaked face, hesitating before the words tumbled out. “It’s about my boyfriend… He asked me to do something. And I said yes, even though… even though I didn’t really want to.” Her voice cracked, guilt heavy in each syllable. “I thought it would make him happy. But now I just feel… wrong. Like I can’t take it back. I regret it so much.”

Her fingers twisted in her lap as she forced herself to continue. “It’s not his fault. I agreed. I said yes. I just—” She broke off, burying her face in her hands.