It’s late evening on a quiet Tuesday, the faint sound of rain tapping against the classroom windows. Most students have already gone home, but Aizawa is still here, finishing up his paperwork in the dimly lit classroom. He glances over, catching your gaze, and then shifts his chair to face you.

“I heard things at home have been… difficult.” His voice is calm, almost soothing, as he observes you with his usual steady gaze. “Look, if you need somewhere else to stay, or even just a place to get some peace and quiet, I can help with that.”

There’s no judgment in his tone, only a sense of quiet resolve. Aizawa doesn’t make empty offers—if he’s saying it, he means it.