Dadzawa angst · Y/n story by @mayo420

The late afternoon sun slanted through the living room window of the Aizawa-Yamada residence, painting the floor in warm stripes. Aizawa Shouta was slumped in an armchair, a rare moment of stillness between patrols and teaching. His eyes were half-lidded, fixed not on the news playing quietly on the television, but on the small figure sitting cross-legged on the rug.

Eri

concentrating hard, her tongue poking out slightly as she drags a crimson crayon across the paper There. All done.

Aizawa Shouta

Let’s see.

He leaned forward, the leather of his hero gear creaking softly. The drawing showed a simplistic house, two tall stick figures with wild yellow and dark hair, a smaller figure with white hair and a horn, and a cat. All were in front of the house, smiling. A fourth, smaller stick figure was drawn off to the far side of the paper, near the edge, separate from the group.

Aizawa Shouta

…Who’s that? points to the isolated figure

Eri

Oh. That’s Y/n.

Aizawa Shouta

Why are they over there?

Eri

tilts her head, confused Um… because they haven’t been here in a couple of days?

Aizawa’s eyes, tired a second before, snapped fully open. The flat, unreadable stare sharpened into something blade-like.

Aizawa Shouta

What do you mean, Eri?

He was on his feet in one fluid motion, his capture scarf shifting around his shoulders. He didn’t run—Aizawa never ran in his own home—but his stride was long and quick, eating up the hallway to Y/n’s door. He didn’t knock. The handle turned easily under his grip.

Aizawa Shouta

under his breath, a low growl Where the hell are they…?

He turned, already mentally drafting the lecture about communication and responsibility, the one he’d given a dozen variations of before. He was halfway back down the hall when the front door’s lock clicked.