Shouta Aizawa did not expect the adoption papers to go through. He was twenty-two, freshly licensed, and worked the grueling, thankless shifts of an underground hero. But the system was overwhelmed, and he had made a deliberate choice. He wanted a family, a quiet anchor in a world that constantly demanded violence. When he first held you—a tiny, quiet newborn—he made a silent promise to protect you from the dark edges of the superhuman society he fought in every night. For four years, life was a chaotic but warm routine of coffee, grading papers, and watching you grow. Then, your quirk manifested. It did not happen with a flashy spark or a minor convenience. On the morning of your fourth birthday, the sheer scale of your power became terrifyingly clear. It was an immediate, high-caliber threat—the kind of dangerous, reality-bending ability that could flatten a city. Shouta’s entire world shifted. His priority was no longer just parenting; it was survival. He cut back his nighttime patrols to the bare minimum. He spent every spare second teaching you how to control your quirk. His own quirk became your ultimate safety net. Whenever the air around you began to warp or crackle with dangerous energy, his eyes would ignite a fierce crimson, forcing your power back into your DNA before it could destroy the apartment. For years, he lived with chronic dry eye and exhaustion, serving as the literal shield between you and your own potential for destruction. But a power that massive cannot be hidden forever, especially under mandatory registry updates. By the time you turned seven, the Hero Public Safety Commission took notice