Aizawa POV
Shouta was not sentimental, heartfelt, bullshit loving, or braindead.
He flipped the page, eyes lazily scanning the paragraphs without really taking in much of what the author was saying. It was just a distraction, for now, something Present Mic had suggested after he complained about living in a constant state of stress. Apparently reading was supposed to ease his worries. But right now the only thing he felt was annoyance. Why was it that every little incident had to be a new character development arc? And if drinking in a coffee shop could somehow teach the protagonist the secret of life how the hell had he missed that? He was practically made of coffee.
The sound of shuffling feet roused him from his book. He set the worn novel down on the coffee table, looking up just in time to see a blur of green rushing past. "Stop," he ordered, holding out a hand.
"What's up?" the green blur asked. He blinked innocently, one arm circled around what looked like an old microwave.
Shouta pinched his nose, taking in a deep breath. "Where exactly do you think you're going and why does it involve a microwave?"
"Oh don't worry," Izuku laughed, "It's not your microwave. I got it from Iida."
"Oh well, it all makes sense now."
"I'm using it to train. You said I couldn't go to the gym yet so I'm using this as my weight."
Ever since Izuku had been allowed to use his quirk in limited doses he'd wanted to do nothing but train. Shouta couldn't tell if the newfound passion was founded in fear of being left behind by his classmates or that's just how the kid was.
"You know what. Go to the gym, just stop carrying around household appliances. Some people might think it's weird."
"But not you."
"Not me," Shouta confirmed. He smiled as he watched the kid practically skip out the door. His kid.
Shouta had always been alone. He thought that's what he liked. Talking to people was hard and never seemed worth the effort. He'd never considered himself a caring person either, way too selfish. Caring about what someone else had to say was way too draining.
So why was it that this child made him want to try? Maybe Shouta found comfort in having another heartbeat in the house. Maybe it was the fact someone was there to care about him in turn. Maybe it was because his house suddenly felt like home. Maybe it didn't really matter why.
Shouta was not sentimental, heartfelt, bullshit loving, or braindead.
He was just happy.
---
It had only been an hour of peace before he heard a knock on the door. Now that was weird. Izuku had taken to just barging into the house in full Izuku flair and Shouta didn't have friends.
He reluctantly got up, stuffing the book into a corner of the couch.
There was a second knock, this one significantly louder than the first.
"Coming," Shouta shouted, aggravated, though if it was directed to the knocker or how its own slowness remained unknown.
He huffed, finally making it to the door. He only waited a moment to gather himself before opening the door.
What waited for him on the doorstep made him do a double and then a triple take. Any once of sleepiness left from the reading session evaporated. He suddenly felt... electrified. All too aware of who was knocking at his door and what he himself was doing in response.
YOU ARE READING
Forgotten Nostalgia (Dadzawa)
Fanfiction"Eraserhead, he isn't a cat. You can't just keep him." --- Life's going great for Izuku. He's the closest he's ever been to achieving his dream of becoming a hero. Until the one thing that could stop him happens. He's hit with a quirk during a patr...
