Mha oc

Heart to heart

The classroom was dead silent, save for the rhythmic scrape of a pen against paper as Aizawa filled out a stack of reports. I slouched in the chair furthest from his desk, my chin propped on my hand as I stared at the clock. The seconds dragged on, and every tick felt like an eternity.

"So," Aizawa's voice finally broke the silence, calm but heavy with meaning. "Care to explain why you thought it was a good idea to skip the last half of your quirk assessment?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I wasn't skipping. I was... conserving energy."

Aizawa stopped writing, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. "Conserving energy? By hiding in the shade and taking a nap?"

I smirked, even though I knew it wouldn't land. "I was being strategic."

"Strategic," he repeated, his tone flat. He set his pen down and looked at me, really looked at me, in that way he always did when he was about to cut through my nonsense. "Ryosuke, you can't keep brushing off things you don't feel like doing. You're better than this."

The smirk faded. Aizawa didn't raise his voice, didn't scold, didn't lecture. But the quiet weight of his disappointment? That hit harder than anything else.

"I wasn't trying to blow it off," I mumbled, leaning back in my chair. "I just... I don't see the point in showing off. Everyone already expects me to fail or to be some clone of you. If I do well, it's because of you. If I mess up, it's because of me. It's easier to just... not try."

Aizawa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and for a moment, I thought I was in for another lecture. But then he stood and walked over to my desk, pulling up a chair to sit across from me.

"Listen," he said, his tone softer now, almost fatherly. "You're not me. You're not supposed to be. You're Ryosuke, and that's enough. But if you keep running away from every challenge, you'll never figure out what you're really capable of."

I looked away, fiddling with the edge of my sleeve. "What if I'm not capable of anything?"

"Then we'll figure it out together," he said simply.

The honesty in his voice caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond. Aizawa wasn't exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type, but when he said something, he meant it.

"You've got potential, Ryosuke," he continued. "I wouldn't push you so hard if I didn't believe that. But you've got to meet me halfway."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Okay," I said quietly.

"Okay," he echoed, standing up and ruffling my hair—a rare gesture from him, but one I'd grown up with. "Now, grab a broom. If you're going to spend detention here, you might as well clean up."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the faint smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. But don't expect me to do a great job."

Aizawa smirked. "I never do."

I grabbed the broom and started sweeping, the tension in the room easing with every stroke. It wasn't much, but it felt like we'd reached an understanding. And for now, that was enough.