Aizawa Oneshots and More

Bandages

'nother short chapter that I hope you all enjoy! Requests are open :3

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Rhythmic tapping of a pen against the desk fills the room, creating a calming cadence in the otherwise silent space of Aizawa's dimly lit office. The pale soft glow of the computer screen casts a gentle light on his face as he sits in his chair, surrounded by stacks of papers that never seem to diminish. Aizawa's sharp yet tired eyes lifts from his paperwork as the subtle sound of sirens abruptly shatters the tranquillity.

"It's probably just another villain getting caught." Was his initial assumption, one that offered momentary reassurance, but the persistent wailing of sirens and growing commotion outside demanded his attention. The rhythmic tapping of his pen ceases, leaving an uneasy silence behind that seems to amplify the distant sounds.

With a heavy sigh, Aizawa pushes himself up from his chair and crosses the room. He stands by the doorway, contemplating whether to investigate or continue with his paperwork. The intensity of the noise increased his curiosity, however, and it got the better of him. Opening the door, Aizawa was met with the sight of a crowd forming in the corridor, students and faculty alike peering down the hallway. Flashing lights of an ambulance reflects in his tired eyes, and he feels a knot of concern tighten in his chest.

"More than just a villain," he mutters to himself, making his way through the gathering crowd. Conversations cease as the students notice his presence, their hushed whispers falling silent in anticipation which only made that knot tighten more.

As he approaches the exit of the school, he glimpses the paramedics wheeling a stretcher into the back of the ambulance. His gaze fixates on your unconscious form, the sight hitting him harder than he expected. He halts for just a moment, his steps faltering as a wave of worry and a pang of something deeper surged within him.

His typically stoic facade cracks for just a moment, his brows furrowing further. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. The faint glow of the corridor seems to dim moreso, mirroring the sudden shift in his emotions. He fell into step beside the stretcher, an almost imperceptible exhale escaping his lips as he observes the paramedics' movements with a watchful gaze. Questions race through his mind and a protective instinct he hadn't realised he harboured surfaced.

The journey to the ambulance felt longer than it should have, each step he took accompanied by an unsettling mix of worry and fear. He studies you intently as the paramedics secure you into the vehicle, his heart sinking at the sight of the various bandages and medical equipment strapped to your body. Your face, which was usually vibrant with life and energy, was now pallid and marked with signs of pain and distress.

His jaw tightens as he observes the assortment of injuries - a visible reminder of the danger that lurks around the city. His mind races still, with possibilities. Bruises, gashes, and abrasions painted him a painful picture, telling a silent tale of a fierce struggle. Bandages hinted at injuries that went beyond superficial wounds, sparking a concern that went deeper than his professional detachment usually allowed.

"Y/N-" he calls to your unconscious form, hand outstretching to reach for you, but he's stopped by one of the paramedics, who shoots him a glance full of warning that carries a hint of worry.

"Please, sir, give them some space. We are working diligently to fix them."

Fix?

Aizawa's eyes widen just a smidge, a rare display of surprise, and he involuntarily lowers his hand. The implications of the paramedic's choice of words linger in the air, his gaze never leaving you as the ambulance doors close, shutting him out from the immediate scene. An unfamiliar and unwelcome sense of powerlessness gnaws at him, his mind racing with questions, to which the answers currently eluded him at that moment.