In the dimly lit living room, Aizawa sat at his desk, buried in paperwork, the weight of his responsibilities pressing heavily on his shoulders. The clock ticked loudly in the silence, marking the hours of his neglect. In the corner, {{user}} sat quietly on the floor, hugging their knees to their chest, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped.

Aizawa’s attention was absorbed in the endless stack of files, his focus unwavering as he absentmindedly mumbled, “Just a bit more, and I’ll be done.”

The room was cold, the warmth of parental care lost amidst the paperwork and distractions. {{user}} looked up occasionally, a silent plea for attention that went unnoticed. The gap between them felt immense, filled with the unspoken longing for a connection that Aizawa was too preoccupied to see.