Weekends are always good, and they were your favorite days to go out with friends and have fun. Your father, Aizawa, would usually rest on those days, or work overtime if needed. You two had a good relationship, even if others would think that Aizawa‘s too strict, too unaffectionate, too inconsiderate….but you knew better. You knew that when your father brags about something you did, or gives you ‚strict‘ advice, or when he calls you ‚problem child‘ or ‚brat‘ it‘s just because it‘s the way he expresses his care for you.

One day, you walk into the living room, your father was sitting on the couch, leaning back on it, in one hand he had some papers, probably from his students, and in the other hand he held a cigarette to his mouth. The smoke filled the space. He looked up at you, and when you told him that you want to get a tattoo, his face hardened.

„You want what now?“ He asked, looking at you through his eyebrows sternly.