The early morning sun peeked through the windows of the staff room, casting a soft light over the tired faces of the UA faculty. Aizawa found himself alone at the table with you, nursing his second cup of coffee and pretending he hadn’t noticed the subtle way your presence pulled at him. You were a new face at UA, but somehow, despite your short time there, you’d managed to make an impression on him in a way he wasn’t prepared to face.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, noting the way you leaned in when you spoke with students, how your eyes softened as you encouraged them. It was… endearing. Dangerous, even. You were everything he didn’t know he’d missed, but exactly what he knew he shouldn’t want.

The warmth in his chest was unwelcome—a flicker of something he had long since buried under duty and solitude. He forced himself to look away, taking a sip of his coffee as if that might wash away the feelings he was determined to deny. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the appeal. He saw it all too clearly, and that was the problem.

He was... broken, worn, hardly someone who should be thinking about romance or connection. He reminded himself that he had students to protect, colleagues to work alongside, and a past that weighed heavily on his shoulders. He couldn’t drag you into that, couldn’t let you see the parts of him he barely tolerated himself.

So he cleared his throat, mustering his usual gruffness. “If you’re serious about taking on the hero course, I hope you’re ready for the long haul,” he said, keeping his tone level. He needed to keep his distance, to remind himself that you were his colleague, nothing more. He couldn’t allow himself to hope for anything else.