Between Two Worlds (Aizawa x Reader)

Chapter Twenty-Eight: What's Next?

Once we finally reached the apartment, Aizawa immediately started to make dinner after setting me down. I offered to help, but he declined and insisted I stay where I was to rest. I watched as he began boiling the noodles as he let the other ingredients cool.
I couldn't help but be fixated and intrigued. I was so used to nuking my ramen noodles in the microwave. I never bothered cooking anything over the countertop. Then again, I never really slowed down much in life. It was always work, training, and sleep, with a sprinkle of browsing social media here and there to keep me content and distracted. I rarely made the effort to do things that took time, like cooking. In a way, it made me relate to Aizawa. He never seemed to slow down either. Granted, I slept more consistently, but now, with everything happening, I wondered if my sleeping habits would mimic his.
And for how long?
I knew my stay here wasn't going to be permanent. How long was it going to take for me to get out of here? What would happen if I couldn't find out in time? Would my body give way? Would I go insane? Would I still be stuck here? With him? I mean, with Aizawa, I wouldn't complain, but I didn't belong here.
I tried to go over the other possibilities that Nezu thought over this evening. The first two options didn't seem possible, but I did remember hearing him mumble about a third option that he dismissed when I tried to ask him about it.

'Then, of course...there's something else.' I remembered hearing him say.

What did he mean by that? And why did he look so sad? Why did he play it off like it was nothing?

"You seem awfully quiet." Aizawa said as he continued to cook.

"You're one to complain. You're not much of a talker either." I said playfully, trying to dodge the subject.

"Not complaining. Only observing." he said, as he started to drain the noodles and put them on ice to cool them, "What's got you so silent?"

I started to fidget with my fingers in nervousness, wondering whether it was even important or necessary to talk about my thoughts.

"Nothing." I lied.

I heard him let an amused huff, as he turned around and leaned against the counter, facing me.

"If I had a yen for every time I heard a woman say that, I'd have a small fortune." he said, folding his arms, and looking at me intently, "Seriously, out with it."

I sighed as I tried to explain what was on my mind.

"It's just...I'm going over the theories that Nezu mentioned earlier. And none of them are sitting well with me." I said, still spinning my thumbs in circles, "The first two sound hopeful, but given what I know about your world and the people in it, it doesn't seem very likely or possible. At least, not right now. Not for awhile."

"I take it there's someone you have in mind that we can't ask for assistance because of the timeline?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Then there's the third option. The one I heard Nezu mumble under his breath." I said, looking down, and trying to hide the worried look on my face, "I don't what he meant by-"

"Something else?" Aizawa interrupted, "Yeah, I caught that, too. I'll speak with him this evening while you rest."

I looked up.

"You will?" I asked.

"I'm not a fan of having information hidden from me." he said as he turned back around and checked on the noodles, before straining them once more.

"I must be infuriating to be around then." I said with a slight chuckle, "especially with what I know."

"I won't lie to you, it's annoying." he said as he plopped the noodles on two separate plates, "but you have a good reason to do so."

He mixed the noodles with a spice and set some green onions and soy sauce on the plates before heading towards me on the couch.

"Eat." he said as he set the food in front of me before sitting down next to me.

"Yes, sir." I said sarcastically as I took the chopsticks in hand and began trying grab some of the noodles.

Once I tried the food, a slight moan escaped my lips. The food was delicious, and the different subtle flavors blended beautifully on my tongue. The mild nuttiness wasn't overpowering and the texture had just the right amount of grain. It was unbelievably good.

"Goddamn, Aizawa. You can cook." I said, after swallowing the first bite.

He didn't react this time to my comment and just kept eating.

'I guess goddamn isn't a swear word to him. Noted.' I thought, 'Though, I wouldn't mind being taught a lesson like last time.'

We both ate in relative silence for awhile until I found the urge to break the awkwardness with something to talk about.

"So what's next for Class 1-A?" I asked him.

He paused, thinking to himself. Almost like he was hesitant to answer.

"And why is that of interest to you?" he asked, "You already know."

"Sure, but I know nothing about what happens behind the scenes. Maybe you could fill me in?" I asked, setting down my chopsticks on the empty plate.

He looked at me, eyebrows furrowed, before looking back down at his plate as he ate the last bit of food before setting it down like I had.

"The students who did well during the festival will have received numerous offers from pro-heros for temporary internships. I'm sure you're aware of who is going to be assigned to who." he said, laying back and folding his hands behind his head.

I gasped before hopping on the couch.

"The internships!" I said with excitement, making Aizawa cringe from my burst of energy, "Oh! And they get to pick their hero names, too! That's such a fun part to-" I stopped.

It hit me.

Tenya.

Hosu.

Stain.

I slowly moved myself back to a seated position, trying not to panic about what was coming.

"You alright?" asked Aizawa, concerned.

I got up, and started to walk away from the couch. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel Aizawa's eyes watching me like a hawk.

"Yeah," I said blankly, "Just upset my stomach, is all. I'll be right back. I-," I stopped again, trying to get think of a good reason to excuse myself, "I just need to use the bathroom."

As I walked towards the bathroom, the pit of my stomach started to feel like it was in knots. My heart began to sink further and further with each step until I finally reached the door to the bathroom and closed myself in.
I stood in front of the sink, hands on the porcelain while looking at the floor.

I knew what was coming.