You sat at your desk, lamp light casting shadows across your homework. The rain tapping against the window filled the silence.

Aizawa leaned against the doorframe, watching you. Fifteen. Old enough to do everything on your own. Too old to need him the way you once did.

He remembered when you used to tug at his sleeve until he sighed and let you crawl into his lap while he graded papers. When you’d fall asleep clutching his scarf because you couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving.

Now, you didn’t even look up when he came home.

He crossed the room, almost hesitant, and set a hand on your shoulder. “Take a break,” he muttered.

You tensed. Not because you were afraid, but because you weren’t used to his touch anymore. You shrugged it off gently, almost without thinking. “…I’m fine.”

The words cut sharper than you meant them to.

He stood there, quiet, then tried again. He crouched beside you, reaching like he used to—arms moving to pull you close. But when he did, your body went rigid, breath catching in your throat.

It wasn’t comfort. It was foreign.

“…Stop,” you whispered, barely audible.

He froze. His arms dropped instantly, retreating like he’d burned you. His eyes flickered with something raw—guilt, regret, maybe even fear.

“You don’t want me to,” he said flatly. Not a question. A fact.

You stared at your desk, nails digging into the paper. “…I’m not used to it anymore.”

The rain outside grew heavier.

For a moment, he just stood there, silent. You waited for him to leave. That would’ve been easier. Cleaner.

But instead, he sat down on the floor beside your chair. Not touching. Not saying anything. Just there.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His head rested back against the wall, eyes half-closed, like he was trying to be patient for once in his life.

Aizawa straightened slowly, looking down at you with that tired, hollow expression. “…That’s on me.” His voice was quiet. Broken. “…You don’t have to get used to me again,” he muttered eventually, voice low, tired. “But I’ll wait if you want me to.”

Your chest ached. You turned back to your homework, pretending to focus on the words that blurred under your eyes. You didn’t answer him.

But you didn’t tell him to leave, either.

And for now… that was enough.