Shadows between the lines (Aizawa X student reader

11.Bait

You were called into Nezu's office unexpectedly. The entire upper division of Class 3 was being shuffled into temporary mission groups—test deployments in real environments to prep for fieldwork post-graduation.

You scanned the list.

Your name was paired with Aizawa.

You raised your eyebrows. "Is this... smart?"

Nezu gave you his usual unnerving smile. "You two work well together. And the mission requires high trust."

You didn't argue.

The mission brief was simple on paper: infiltrate an illegal underground market, gather intel on a buyer known to purchase quirks via black market surgery, and safely extract with proof of operation.

The catch?

You were the bait.

⸻

Aizawa hated it.

"Absolutely not," he growled during the strategy meeting.

"I'm the only one with the right look," you said. "They want young, unique, powerful. I check all the boxes."

"That's exactly why you're not doing it."

"You don't get to decide that."

He stood, glaring down at you, voice low and brutal. "You think you're invincible because you're good. But you don't know what it's like to be strapped to a table with your power being drained out of you."

You flinched.

Then he softened, kneeling beside you, voice raw. "I can't lose you."

You cupped his face gently. "Then help me survive it."

⸻

The mission began.

You posed as a runaway rogue quirk-user, low-level, desperate, ripe for harvesting. You wore plain clothes. No comms. No weapons.

Aizawa watched from the shadows.

The moment the buyer's men surrounded you and pressed a tranquilizer to your neck, you activated the emergency beacon in your mouthguard.

Aizawa descended like a demon.

He didn't use his quirk. He didn't need to.

He slaughtered them with his fists.

You were barely conscious when he reached you. He caught you in his arms like a child, whispered your name, over and over, brushing your hair back.

You'd never seen him shake before.

⸻

He carried you back to the car.

Didn't let go.

Didn't speak.

Until you groaned, half-delirious, eyes fluttering.

"Did... did it work?"

His jaw clenched.

Then he said nothing.

Just kissed your forehead and whispered, "You're safe now."

But something had cracked in him.

And it wasn't going to heal quietly.