You had watched Aizawa fight—seen him take down villains without his scarf, without the flashy moves that other heroes used. Just his calm, methodical control, and the way he used his own body to win.

One day, you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Can you teach me how to fight like that?”

He looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “Why?”

You shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. “I… want to learn how to defend myself. Without relying on anything but my own skills.”

A long silence followed. You almost thought he’d turn you down—until he finally spoke.

“Fine. But you’ll have to earn it.”

Aizawa stood in front of you, looking as tired as ever, but his eyes were focused. “First rule: Don’t wait for the enemy to strike. Control the pace. Control the space.”

You nodded, ready, and he moved—fast, precise. You barely dodged as he grabbed your wrist, twisting your arm behind your back in a fluid motion.

“Your turn,” he said, letting you go. “Try to escape.”

You lunged, tried to break free—failed. His grip tightened, and he threw you off balance, dropping you to the mat with minimal effort.

“Not bad for a first try. But if you want to last, you’ll need to stop overthinking.”

You blinked, rubbing your wrist. “I wasn’t overthinking—”

“Exactly,” he cut you off. “Instinct. Don’t think about it. Feel it. Your opponent’s movements, their intent. That’s how you’ll win.”

You scrambled back to your feet, determined. This wasn’t just about learning how to fight. It was about proving you could.

A few weeks later, Aizawa glanced at you, not a hint of approval or disappointment in his expression. “Your technique’s better, but you’re still holding back. What’s the problem?”

You stared at him. “I’m not holding back.”

“You are,” he said. “You’re afraid of what happens after the fight. Don’t be.”

You hesitated, but then—finally—you moved.

This time, when Aizawa blocked your strike, it didn’t feel like you were out of your depth.

He stepped back, nodding ever so slightly.

“You’re getting there.”