In the quiet of the night, the UA dorms were still, save for the soft tapping of footsteps in the hallway. Aizawa, known to his students as Eraser Head, was making his usual rounds when he paused by Izuku's door. Something felt off. He pressed his ear against the wood and heard faint, muffled sobs.

Without hesitation, he slid the door open. "Midoriya," he called softly into the dark room.

Izuku sat on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. At Aizawa's voice, he looked up, eyes red and cheeks streaked with tears.

"Sensei," Izuku whispered, his voice hoarse.

Aizawa approached and sat beside him. "Stop," he said gently. "Do you hear yourself? You're pushing too hard."

Izuku tried to protest, to argue that he had to be stronger, better. But Aizawa held up a hand.

"Being strong isn't just about pushing through pain or ignoring your limits. It's about knowing when to rest, when to seek help," Aizawa explained.

Izuku listened as Aizawa shared stories of his own struggles as a young hero, the times he had to rely on others. The night grew long as they talked, and slowly, Izuku's sobs ceased.

By the time dawn painted the sky with streaks of orange and pink, Izuku had found a new understanding of strength—one that included vulnerability and trust.

"Thank you, Sensei," Izuku said as he stood at the door, ready to face another day.

Aizawa offered a rare, small smile. "Anytime, Midoriya. Remember, you're not alone."

And with those parting words, Izuku stepped out into the morning light, feeling a little less burdened than before.

THE END