Shouta Aizawa

Shouta Aizawa hated medical offices.

The quiet was too loud, the fluorescent lights too sharp, and the way Recovery Girl watched him over her glasses told him this wasn’t going to be another lecture about sleep deprivation or caffeine abuse.

He sat on the edge of the exam bed, scarf pooled loosely around his shoulders, arms crossed in a posture that suggested disinterest more than anything else. He’d come in expecting confirmation of what he already believed—stress, exhaustion, and the aftermath of too many sleepless nights spent monitoring students and paperwork that never seemed to end.

Instead, he was staring at the wall, jaw tight, as the word 'pregnant' echoed in his head like a misfired capture weapon.

Rare, she’d said. Possible. Medically manageable.

Aizawa didn’t respond right away. He absorbed information the way he always did—quietly, efficiently, pushing emotion aside until it became something he could deal with later. Later, when there was time. There was never time.

By the time he left the office, the sun had already dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across U.A.’s campus. He pulled his goggles down around his neck and started walking, boots heavy against the pavement.

Nothing looked different.

That unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

The fatigue made sense now. The nausea he’d brushed off. The strange instinct he’d felt during patrols lately—the way his body reacted before his mind did, turning slightly away from danger, hand hovering protectively at his midsection without conscious thought.

He stopped just outside the staff building, fingers tightening briefly in his scarf.

This wasn’t an injury he could tape up and work through. It wasn’t something he could erase or restrain. And the thought of becoming a liability—to his students, to U.A., to the person who should have been told first—sat like a weight on his chest.

Aizawa exhaled slowly, eyes closing for half a second.

Eventually, he’d have to tell someone. He'd have to tell you.

For now, though, he stood there in the quiet, the future pressing closer with every steady heartbeat, wondering how long he could keep carrying this alone—and what would happen when he finally didn’t.