Mha oc

Bothering Dadzawa

The hallway outside the classroom felt quieter than usual as I strolled down it, hands stuffed in my pockets. My classmates had dispersed, buzzing about their potential internships, but I wasn't in a rush to join them.

I'd glanced over the offers. None of them screamed "pick me." Sure, some were from agencies that sounded decent, but the thought of playing polite intern didn't exactly excite me. The truth was, I didn't see myself under anyone's wing.

I mulled it over for a bit, walking aimlessly through the halls until my feet carried me toward a familiar door. If anyone had the patience—or lack thereof—to put up with me, it was the man who'd been doing it for sixteen years.

I didn't bother knocking. Instead, I pushed the door open, and there he was: Aizawa, sitting at his desk with a stack of paperwork in front of him. His hair was tied back in that low, lazy bun he usually resorted to, and he didn't even glance up when I entered.

"Woods," he said in that familiar monotone. "What do you want? And make it quick. I've got reports to finish."

I sauntered in, plopped down on the couch in the corner of his office, and stretched out like I owned the place.

"Well," I began, voice light, "after deep, soul-searching contemplation—and looking at the offers from pros who apparently don't know what they're signing up for—I've made a decision."

He finally glanced up, one eyebrow raised. "You've chosen an agency?"

"Yup."

"Good." He went back to his papers, clearly assuming that was the end of the conversation.

I grinned. "I'm your intern now, Daddy Dearest. Deal with it."

That got his attention. Aizawa froze mid-signature, his pen hovering over the paper, and slowly looked up at me again.

"You're joking."

"Dead serious."

His gaze narrowed. "Woods, internships are about gaining new experiences. You already know how I work."

"Exactly!" I shot back, sitting up and gesturing broadly. "I'm already familiar with your whole 'don't get in my way and don't screw up' vibe. Efficiency, right?"

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You had offers from top pros, and this is the decision you've come to?"

"Yup. Seems like the best way to get on your nerves and learn something at the same time." I smirked, leaning back on the couch.

Aizawa muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Why me?" but didn't outright refuse. That was as good as a win in my book.

"You do realize this isn't going to be some cushy arrangement," he finally said, fixing me with his usual stern glare.

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

For a moment, he just stared at me, like he was trying to decide if this was the worst idea I'd ever had or just another item on the ever-growing list. Then he sighed again and leaned back in his chair, resigned.

"Fine. But if you screw around, you're on your own."

I grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it, Pops."

Aizawa muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "This kid's going to be the death of me," but I could tell he wasn't really mad. If anything, there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth that might have been a suppressed smile.

Internship sorted.