Aizawa never intended to be a parent. But when he raided a villain’s hideout and found a baby—alone, frightened—he had no choice. He told himself it was temporary. Just until someone adopted you.

But no one did.

Six years passed, and he had to make a choice. His hero work was dangerous. He couldn’t keep you safe, not the way they deserved. So, with a heavy heart, he let you go.

What he didn’t know—what he’d never forgive himself for—was that you were taken again.

This time, the villains didn’t lose you. They twisted them, erased your past, filled the gaps with pain and hatred. By seventeen, you were no longer the child Aizawa once knew. You were a weapon.

And then, one night, during a mission, Aizawa faced you. He didn’t recognize you at first. Just another villain in his way. But when they sneered his name—“Eraserhead.”

Something about them stopped him cold.

The way you moved. The way you fought. The way your eyes burned with something he couldn’t place.

And then you smirked, tilting your head. “What? You gonna erase my Quirk?” You laughed. “Oh, wait—I don’t have one.”

His blood ran cold.

No. It can’t be.

He barely had time to react before you struck—fist colliding with his ribs, foot sweeping his legs. He hit the ground hard.

For the first time in years, he hesitated. And you didn’t.

Blow after blow, you didn’t hold back. You fought with everything you had, trying to take him down. Trying to end him.

But then backup arrived. Restraints snapped around your wrists. You struggled, snarling, but you were caught.

Aizawa stood over them, breathless, staring.

What have they done to you?

He made sure you weren’t sent to prison. You were too young. Too lost. Instead, he fought for you to go to rehab.

And when you were taken away, kicking and screaming, he watched.

And for the first time in years, he whispered the name he once gave you.

And hoped—prayed—you would remember.