Aizawa Oneshots and More

Letters

Request from ChaoticEgg5! 

This fic is not based around an x reader! This is Aizawa's POV about a kid that's suddenly been dropped into his life, and now he has to deal with it. 

Requests are open! And remember, if you like my work, want superiority requests and different characters from MHA to be written, check out my ko-fi at strawberry_hearts!

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I was in a deep, much needed sleep when I first heard the knock. It was a soft, light tapping on my door, that gradually got louder. At first, I ignored it, hoping whoever it was would assume no one was home and leave. But it persisted, growing more insistent with each passing moment.

With a groan, I push myself out of bed, irritation bubbling up at having my sleep disturbed. The clock on my bedside reads 2:13 AM. Who in their right mind would be knocking at this hour?

I shuffle to the door as I rub the sleep from my eyes. When I open it, I am greeted by the sight of a young child, no older than thirteen, standing on my doorstep. They had a determined look in their eyes, one that was oddly familiar.

"Are you Mr. Aizawa?" they ask me, clutching a letter tightly in their hand.

I frown, my irritation turning to mild confusion. "Who's asking?"

The teen takes a deep breath and hands me the letter they were clutching so tightly. "I'm your kid. This is from my mom. She said it's your turn to take care of me."

I am too stunned to respond – I glance down at the letter, recognising the handwriting of an old flame, someone I haven't thought about in years.

I stare at the letter, the words blurring together as a wave of memories crash over me. The letter is unmistakably from her, an old girlfriend I haven't seen or spoken to in over a decade. Her familiar handwriting brings a flood of emotions, but I force myself to focus on the present.

"Dear Shota,

I know this must come as a shock, but it's time you knew the truth. This is our child, and it's your turn to take care of them. I've done my part, and now it's up to you.

- Xoxo"

It's short and to the point, leaving me with more questions than answers. I look back at the teen standing before me, their eyes wide with uncertainty.

"You're... my kid?" I repeat, still struggling to wrap my mind around the idea.

They nod. "Yeah. My name's Shina. I don't... have anywhere else to go. My aunt just dropped me off and left."

I take a deep breath, trying to process everything. "Come inside then, it's too cold out here."

As they step into my apartment, I can't help but notice how out of place they seem in my sparse, barely lived-in home. They look around curiously, taking in the surroundings while I shut the door.

We stand in awkward silence for a moment before I gesture to the couch. "Sit down. We need to talk."

They obey, perching on the edge of the couch like they are ready to bolt at any second. I grab a chair from the kitchen and sit across from them, studying their face for any hint of familiarity. There are subtle resemblances - the shape of their eyes, the set of their jaw - but it's still hard to believe.

"So, tell me everything," I say finally, leaning back in my chair.

They hesitate, fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. "Mom always said you were my dad. She said you were a big tough hero and that one day, I might need to find you. A few months ago, she... she got really sick. And.. And before she passed away, she gave me that letter and told me to find you.