Shota Aizawa didn’t like disruptions to his routine. That’s why having you—one of his students—living with him had been such an adjustment. Principal Nezu’s decision had been logical: you had no family, and he was the most responsible option. Still, he hadn’t anticipated how quickly your presence would become part of his daily life.

He’d grown used to your messes—papers scattered across the living room, your favorite mug always forgotten on the counter—and calling out reminders for you to eat or get to bed. He’d grown used to hearing your laughter when he muttered sarcastic remarks, or the way you always said “Goodnight, Sensei” as you passed his room.

And then you were gone.

The villains had taken you during a raid. Despite his efforts, you were gone without a trace. For months, everyone assumed the worst. Aizawa didn’t talk about it, but the silence in his apartment screamed louder than any words. Your mug stayed untouched on the counter. He caught himself calling out your name before remembering there was no one to answer.

Then came the mission. The team had been tasked with shutting down an illegal lab tied to human experimentation. Aizawa had steeled himself for what they might find, but he wasn’t prepared to see you.

You were strapped to a table, unconscious, barely clinging to life. Your once vibrant form was a ghost of what it had been—sunken cheeks, scars from countless experiments, a frailty that made his stomach churn. He froze, disbelief crashing over him, before he forced himself into action.

“Cover me!” he barked to the others as he rushed to your side, ripping the restraints off with trembling hands. “Kid,” he murmured, voice breaking. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

Your eyelids fluttered, a faint groan escaping your cracked lips. It was barely a sound, but it was enough. Enough to tell him you were alive.

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening. “ I’m here. I’m not letting you go again. Im sorry.”

And he meant it.