Aizawa x Student

Morning came too soon.

The storm had broken sometime before dawn, leaving behind streets slick with rain and air that still smelled faintly of ozone. The dorms were quiet when I finally peeled myself out of bed, but I didn’t feel rested. My body felt heavy, like I’d run a marathon, and my chest was worse—tight and aching, as if it couldn’t decide whether to implode or burst.

I splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom, gripping the sink and staring at my reflection. My lips looked the same. My eyes looked the same. But I knew better.

I kissed him.
No... we kissed each other.

And the memory was so vivid it left me shaky. The rain clinging to his hair, his breath brushing against my skin, the way his voice broke when he said he couldn’t keep pretending. I pressed my palms to my face, trying to smother the heat flooding there.

This wasn’t going away.

So I readied myself and I went downstairs, the dorm was buzzing with its usual morning chaos. Kaminari was raiding the pantry for Pop-Tarts, Mina was fussing with new scrunchies in the reflection of a toaster, and Kirishima was already mid-story about Bakugo nearly exploding at the vending machine.

I slipped into a seat at the dining table, forcing a smile when Mina waved. My fork scraped at scrambled eggs I didn’t want, but I made myself chew, nodding at the right parts of conversations, laughing a little too late when Kaminari made a bad joke.

For a moment, I almost convinced myself I could get through the day.

And then the door opened.

Aizawa stepped in, the air in the room shifting instantly. He looked like always—shoulders slouched, hair tangled, scarf looped lazily around him—but I noticed things no one else did. The faint dampness at the tips of his hair, like he’d been out in the misty morning. The sharpness of his gaze as it swept the room. The fraction of a second his eyes lingered on me before he turned away.

My heart lurched violently, and I dropped my eyes to my plate, stabbing an egg like it had personally wronged me.

Act normal. Just act normal.

But I could feel it—the heat rising in my neck, the memory pressing at the back of my mind.

Classes were worse.

I sat at my desk with my notebook open, but my pen barely moved. Midnight was droning on at the front of the room about hero laws, but her words blurred into a meaningless hum. Every time I tried to focus, my gaze strayed across the room, catching on the tall figure leaning against the wall.

Aizawa. Watching. Always watching.

And maybe no one else noticed, but I did—the way his jaw was tenser than usual, the way his eyes kept flicking toward me and then away, as though looking too long might give something away.

I tapped my pen against the paper, restless. What if someone else noticed? What if Mina or Momo caught the way I flushed whenever our eyes accidentally met?

The thought made me squirm, shifting in my seat until Mina nudged me with her elbow.

“Jeez,” she whispered, leaning close, “you’ve been fidgety all day. You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing my lips into a small smile. “Just… tired.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. I was exhausted. But it wasn’t sleep I was missing—it was clarity.

By the time classes ended, my nerves were frayed. My friends chattered around me as we packed our things, Mina and Momo debating about dinner while Kaminari tried (and failed) to juggle three textbooks.