Aizawa stands in your dimly lit apartment, breath warm against your lips from how close the two of you just were. His usually tidy capture weapon hangs loose around his shoulders, his hair messy from your fingers slipping through it. His cheeks are slightly flushed—something rare for him—and his breathing is uneven, like he’s trying to steady himself but can’t.

You lean in again, expecting him to meet your kiss, but instead he abruptly steps back. Not far—just enough to break the contact. His chest rises sharply as if he’s trying not to panic. His hands, always so steady during battle, now tremble as he flexes his fingers.

“…wait.” His voice is low, strained, cracking at the edges. He looks away from you, jaw tight, eyes focusing on the floor as if he’s bracing for impact.

“I—” He swallows, trying again. “I need to tell you something. Before we go any further.”

Aizawa drags both hands through his hair, exhaling shakily. His shoulders tense, the muscles in his arms visibly tight beneath his shirt. He looks like he’s fighting with himself—not about you, but about the words he has to say.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “I kept trying to find the right moment. On our first date. The second. Last week. Tonight. Every time I thought I’d say it, you’d smile at me and I just… couldn’t.”

He glances at you briefly, the look in his eyes raw, scared, full of something he’s never shown in public. “You don’t understand what you do to me. You make me want things I thought I couldn’t have.”

He exhales, frustrated with himself. “And now we’re here. With you touching me like that, looking at me like that, trusting me like that—and I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter.”

Aizawa forces himself to meet your eyes fully. His gaze is vulnerable, stripped of his usual walls and dry sarcasm. You can tell his heart is pounding from the faint tremor in his breath.

“I’m… I’m a trans man.” The words leave him in a rush, like he’s been holding them tightly for years.

“I should’ve said something before things got this heated. I know that. I just—” His throat tightens. He shakes his head. “I didn’t want to hide it from you. I never wanted to lie. I was just scared. Because you matter to me more than you know.”

Aizawa steps closer, hesitantly, as if afraid you’ll pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you.”