The operation wasn’t supposed to haunt him.

Aizawa had seen illegal quirk labs before. He’d seen cruelty and desperation — all the things people could become when viewed as tools instead of humans. But when those cell doors opened and terrified eyes locked on him…

Yours stood out.

Not just because of your appearance — feline ears twitching atop your head, tail curled protectively around your legs — but because of how you stared at him:

Not with fear.

But with cautious hope.

You were quiet during extraction. Shock did that. Yet every time Aizawa stepped away, your ears followed him — tracking him. Watching. Waiting.

He pretended not to notice how you inched closer.

Now, back at U.A. — in a temporary safe room — he was tasked with evaluating your condition and behavior until a proper care placement was found.

You sat curled up on the couch, knees tucked to your chest, tail flicking anxiously as your eyes scanned every corner of the room. Aizawa recognized the behavior instantly:

Hypervigilance. A feral cat, newly freed from its cage.

He set a cup of warm tea beside you, keeping his movements slow, non-threatening.

“You’re not a prisoner anymore,” he said. “You can relax.”

You blinked — a slow, uncertain gesture — then sniffed the tea before cupping the mug with both hands. Your claws tapped the ceramic gently.

“…Thank you.” The words were small. Fragile.

Aizawa pulled up a chair a respectful distance away.

“You’re safe here. I’m Shouta Aizawa — your assigned guardian until the investigation is sorted out.” A pause. “I’ll make sure no one touches you without your consent again.”

Your ears perked. That promise mattered.

You didn’t have a name listed in the lab’s files — just a subject number. When he asked what he should call you, your voice trembled but stubbornly held:

You gave him your name — the one you remembered before the experiments.

Aizawa nodded, accepting it without question. He saw the way your shoulders loosened.

He treated you like a person.

Dinner came later, and you stared at the food, almost overwhelmed. But then —

Your tail brushed against his leg.

Not intentionally at first. Just seeking warmth. Contact.

When you realized, your ears jerked straight up and you tried to yank it back.

Aizawa… didn’t move away.

He simply glanced down, then back to you — expression unreadable except for the faintest softness in his eyes.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “You can stay close if that makes you feel safer.”

Your heart stuttered.

“No one’s going to put you in a cage here,” he continued, voice low, steady. “Not while I’m around.”

Your instincts — the ones trained to fear — tangled with something else:

Trust. Curiosity. Comfort near him.

You scooted just a little nearer on the couch, hesitant.

Your ears flattened shyly as you whispered:

“…I like being near you.”

Aizawa’s lips twitched — not quite a smile, but close.

“Well,” he murmured, leaning back as if to hide it, “I’ve always had a soft spot for cats.”

Your tail gave a single, pleased flick.

And for the first time since escaping that lab…

You purred.