Aizawa had been feeling the pressure ever since the website chaos. As much as he hated dealing with bureaucracy, he knew this was a problem that needed a solution that didn’t involve Souto throwing tantrums or biting random strangers.
That’s when the call came.
—
Souto was lounging on the couch, flicking through channels on TV, while Aizawa sat in his office, dialing a number.
“Hello, Mr. Eraserhead,” the voice on the other end of the line greeted.
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the weight of his decision. “I need a favor.”
---
The very next week, Aizawa made a trip to the local hospital where the federal government had agreed to help. A simple exchange: blood bags for Souto, who needed them to survive or rather function, and a promise to keep his violent urges in check.
The man at the counter gave Aizawa a grim smile as he handed over a small cooler.
“I’m not going to ask why a kid needs this much blood, but I hope you know this is a *scarce* resource,” the man warned. “We’re talking about limited quantities, and you’ll only be able to get deliveries once a month. So don’t waste it.”
Aizawa nodded, his face impassive. “Understood.”
He packed the cooler into his car and made his way back home, the weight of his decision settling in.
---
Back at the house, Souto’s eyes lit up when he saw the cooler. His stomach growled, almost in sync with his fangs, which were poking out like little daggers.
“Is that *real* blood?!” Souto asked eagerly, bouncing on his feet.
Aizawa set the cooler on the kitchen table, locking eyes with his son. “Yes, but listen to me carefully, Souto. You’re going to have to ration this. I’m only allowed to get one delivery a month. That means you get one blood bag *every two days*. If you drink it all in one go, you’ll be out of luck for the rest of the month.”
Souto’s eyes narrowed as he opened the cooler and pulled out a blood bag, inspecting it like it was a golden treasure. “Every *two days*?!”
Aizawa nodded with a glare.
Souto scowled but didn’t argue. He knew better than to push his luck. “Fine. Two days it is...”
Aizawa sighed, clearly not in the mood for another fight. “Just make it last. I’m serious, Souto. This is a *scarce* resource, and we have to be responsible about it.”
---
The first week of rationing blood was harder than Souto anticipated. He sat at the kitchen table, the blood bag sitting in the fridge, just staring at it with a mixture of desire and frustration.
“I could just drink it all now,” he muttered, “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with this stupid ‘rationing’ thing for a while.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Shinso’s voice came from behind him.
Souto turned around, glaring. “It’s *my* blood. I can do whatever I want.”
Shinso leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. “We are all gonna be stuck dealing with your crazy hunger when you lose control.”
Souto grumbled, staring at the blood again. His fingers twitched. “But I’m so hungry…”
Shinso gave him a knowing look. “You’ll survive. You’re a vampire, not a *crazed* animal. Just… hang in there.”
---
As the days went on, Souto found himself growing more and more frustrated with the blood rationing system. He’d never been good with rules, especially when those rules kept him from doing what he wanted.
But Aizawa was persistent, and the more time went on, the more Souto started to see the logic.
One afternoon, Souto found himself on the couch, his fangs still protruding slightly as he clenched his fists. “I hate this.”
“You know,” Shinso began from the doorway, “I think Aizawa might have been right about the rationing. You’ve been a lot less moody these past few days.”
“Don’t remind me,” Souto muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’m still mad about it.”
Aizawa entered the room just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. He set down a tray with a sandwich and a glass of juice. “Good. I’m glad you’re getting the hang of it. Now, what’s for lunch?”
Souto shot Aizawa a dark look. “A *sandwich*,” he grumbled, practically throwing the sandwich in his mouth. “Like it’s gonna satisfy *anything*.”
Aizawa sighed, but there was a glint of approval in his eyes. “It’s good practice. You’re learning patience.”
Shinso raised an eyebrow. “Patience? I thought it was just blood rationing.”
“Both,” Aizawa replied with a small smile. “I’m making sure our little vampire learns some self-control.”
Souto rolled his eyes, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Still it sucks.”
...
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BNHA | A Bite-Sized Problem
Fanfiction.ᐟ Comic relief / Slice of life. Eraserhead, pro hero and notorious insomniac, adopts an 8-year-old vampire delinquent with an attitude problem? Chaos, that's what. Souto, a loud, abrasive troublemaker with a biting temper (literally), finds himself...
