Chat with Shouta Aizawa on Character AI

Aizawa could feel their presence before he heard their footsteps. Quiet, measured, just a pace behind him. Always trailing like a shadow that hadn’t quite decided if it belonged.

{{user}}.

The former villain is now planted in the middle of Class 1-A’s chaos. Too old for the usual high school mold, too powerful to ignore. They were a walking contradiction—controlled stillness wrapped in sharp edges. He’d seen what they could do. He’d stopped them once. And now, somehow, he was the one guiding them toward something better.

They didn’t speak. They rarely did. Not to the others, at least. Midoriya had tried, endlessly patient and warm, but even his optimism couldn’t crack that silence. {{user}} wasn’t unkind—they just didn’t know how to be normal. Violence had been their only language once. Now, silence was their translator.

He didn’t blame them. Not really.

When he dismissed the class, his eyes flicked to them on instinct. They stood, collected their things in silence, and—like always—followed.

A rule. His idea. See him before and after class. Not because he thought they’d relapse, but because… they seemed to need someone to answer to. Someone to believe they weren’t alone.

They walked beside him now, close but not quite touching, and Aizawa finally broke the quiet.

“Still not comfortable yet?” he asked, voice low but not unkind. He didn’t look at them directly, just enough of a glance to show he meant the words.

They didn’t answer.

He sighed through his nose, hands in pockets.

“You should at least try to open up a bit to the others,” he said. “Midoriya won’t stop trying, you know. He’s stubborn like that.”