Chapter Text
Dr. Megumi Takatani 📚💙✨
Quirk: ???
Likes: Chocolate, studying, kids(obviously), shopping, and feeling useful.
Dislikes: Anti-science people (especially anti-vaccine), fights, her twin evil brother who is her mom’s favorite, and grumpy people.
Fun Facts:
- Speaks 5 languages: Japanese, English, Spanish, Portuguese, and nonsense.
- Actually drives cars very well.
- Has some chronic illnesses (which she actively ignores).
- She went to college in São Paulo because her grandmother is Brazilian and Megumi nearly died of dengue fever in Brazil. (-100 aura, Dr. Takatani).
- Her childhood crushes were Prince Zuko, Kakashi-sensei, and a really tall, funny hero from UA who could make clouds—a boy she, for some reason, never heard of again.
Being a father was harder than it looked.
Being a single father to a deeply traumatized little girl was much harder. Two years after the great war, Shouta Aizawa was still trying to piece together what was left of his students (and of himself) into something that functioned.
Just six more months until they graduate…
The teacher thought anxiously about his kids who had been forced to become soldiers. Winning the war didn’t erase the scars of battle. No one knew that better than he did. The missing smiles on Kaminari’s and Uraraka’s faces reminded him of it every single day.
Don’t dwell on it. The damage is already done…
All he could do now was patch up the traumas of dozens of children and protect what was left of his own child’s childhood.
Has her anemia improved?
In the waiting room of the only clinic that didn’t trigger his daughter’s anxiety attacks, Shouta sat patiently for her pediatric appointment. At his side, Eri was quietly reading her first book with more words than pictures.
At least she’s making good progress…
More than developing his own combat style or losing parts of his body, re-socializing her had been the hardest thing he had ever done. Dedicating every free and occupied moment of the last years to her, teaching her to read, to trust, and to smile. That was the great battle of the hero.
She looks so… okay.
The sight of the little girl with her long white hair tied up like Princess Leia was cute, at the very least. Letting her watch Star Wars with his best friend had forced him into a Darth Vader costume, and now his daughter only wanted to wear double buns.
Will Dr. Samito take her off the meds?
“Daddy.” Eri’s small voice pulled his attention. His little girl was discreetly glancing at a woman with Dark blue hair. She wore a white blouse with a blue floral print and a long white skirt, smiling as she sipped coffee and chatted with a nurse. “Is that lady a princess?”
Don’t stare.
“No, kid.” The young woman had a sweet smile, and everything about her screamed rich. Extraordinarily proper. The kind of girl his naïve little brother would fall hopelessly in love with, and the kind of girl he himself had saved in dark alleys hundreds of times. Aizawa turned his eyes away from the woman and back to his child. “She’s just a lady…”
Though she does look a bit like that one who pretends to be a man…
“But she’s so pretty!” The way Eri whispered softly was adorable. His child pointed to Mulan on the cover of her Fairy Tales for Brave Girls. “How can she not be a princess?”
“Princess is a title of nobility, Eri…” The adult forced himself not to repeat the same headache he’d had ever since his little girl told the other kids at school that the Tooth Fairy wasn’t real. “It’s a political role—it has nothing to do with beauty…”
Eri closed her book and rested her head on her arm. A smile almost tugged at his lips, but the sad little voice of his daughter caught his attention.“I wish I could marry a princess…”
What did she just say?
“Marry?” Aizawa glanced at the child as she nibbled her snack. Just two years ago, Eri didn’t even know what father, Christmas, or music meant. He tried to slowly process his little girl’s words. “Where did you learn that?”
Don’t look surprised, or she’ll just get confused .
“In Disney movies!” Eri sipped her orange juice and nibbled the fruit slices he secretly sprinkled with strawberry-flavored whey protein. “Princesses always get married at the end of every happy ending.”
Not exactly progressive…
“Eri, sweetheart…” He tried to rationalize, thinking of what more experienced parents said to eight-year-old girls. “People get married when they love each other, when they respect each other, and when they’re adults .” Aizawa tried a small smile and rested his hand on top of her head. “You don’t need to think about that right now, okay?”His daughter crossed her arms and pouted. “But I wanna marry a princess…”
Wait a second…
The adult rewound the entire conversation in his mind, connecting the dots.
Princesses = girls.
“Do you, now?” He brushed a bit of her bangs out of her eyes, and she smiled at him, mouth full of strawberry. “Yes! They’re pretty, kind, and brave. Like Mulan!” He squinted at his little girl and fought back an idiotic grin. Eri pointed to the wallpaper on his emergency phone. “And there’s She-Ra too. I wanna marry Adora…”
Jirou and Momo would love to hear this…
Aizawa thought of his students who had been dating for nearly two years. “Alright then, in about…” He quickly calculated how long it would take Eri to hit at least twenty-five, graduate college, and find a job. “…sixteen years, you can marry a…”His girl looked up at him expectantly with her red eyes. “…a princess.”
At least it’s not a boy…
“Eri Matsuri…” The nurse’s voice calling her name made him exhale deeply. His little girl pouted at hearing the surname from her biological family instead of Aizawa. “That doesn’t mean anything…” He helped her tuck her book and pink bento box into her purple sequined backpack. “Don’t be nervous, we like Dr. Samito, remember?”
“I remember…” she whispered, holding his hand. The nurse in teddy bear scrubs pointed toward the old examination room number 7 as he guided his child to the pediatrician.“Daddy…” Her voice stopped him in front of the door. Her eyes met his, and the adult tried to look reassuring. “It’s okay, Eri. I’m with you…”His little girl swallowed hard, then gave him a gentle tap on the top of his head. “I’m with you and you’re with me and…” He crouched to her level, locking eyes with her, waiting for her to repeat the promise he’d made years ago. She whispered softly, staring at the doorknob: “And we take care of each other…”
Good girl…
“Exactly.” Aizawa hugged his daughter and tried not to imagine all the things she had been put through at the hands of a monster who called himself a doctor. “You don’t need to be afraid. You’re brave girl and I’m right here with you.”
Puericultura {from Latin puer (“child”) + cultura (“cultivation, care”)}:
1. The branch of medicine and healthcare dedicated to the study, monitoring, and preventive care of children’s growth and development, from birth through adolescence.
Example: Pediatric checkups are essential to evaluate a child’s physical and emotional development.
2. A set of practices and guidelines aimed at promoting child health, involving nutrition, vaccination, hygiene, disease prevention, psychosocial stimulation, and family education.
Example: Pediatrics provides parents with guidance on breastfeeding, introducing solid foods, and healthy sleep habits.
Megumi Takatani loved her job.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise that she went into medicine after growing up with Doctor Barbie dolls, sleeping in the back of ER call rooms while her surgeon mother worked, and tagging along to countless neurology wards and conferences with her father.
Girl, 8 years old, -1 percentile. Short stature…
What was a surprise was that the girl whose could manipulate physiological states, who had been the most outstanding student in her entire class, and whose father expected her to inherit his neurorehabilitation clinic - fell in love with the single lowest-paying specialty in medicine.
Delayed growth and iron-deficiency anemia.
The doctor’s eyes skimmed quickly through the history of her newest little patient. Nothing in the world made her happier than a quiet day seeing children who weren’t at risk of dying immediately.
Samito was still treating her with iron sulfate, poor kid…
Her head ached at the thought of her predecessor’s inadequate choices, and she silently prayed that this little girl wasn’t still dealing with stomach pains. Adjusting her stethoscope around her neck, Takatani exhaled slowly.
Better check how I look…
She jogged to the bathroom of her over-the-top-colorful Montessori-style office in the fancy clinic where she’d just been hired, and stared at her reflection.
No dead face- otherwise the moms will take their kids back to the pediatrician who prescribes garbage meds for anemic kids.
Megumi was relieved to see her overnight ER shift hadn’t completely wrecked her. She quickly twisted her nearly blue hair into a bun. Enough to look like a specialist pediatrician, not a girl who had just turned twenty-eight last week.
Something’s off… they should’ve been in here already.
It was unusual for a patient to be late. Parents did not skip appointments at these overpriced clinics. Tucking her bangs behind her ear, she was about to head for the door when they finally appeared.
Well, that’s unexpected…
Her eyes immediately landed on a little girl with pale bluish-white hair and ridiculously adorable eyes, clinging to the waist of a man dressed head-to-toe in black. Long dark hair, exhaustion written all over his face- the kind that would make her mother’s surgery residents look like fitness models.
A father…
Fathers almost never came to pediatric appointments - and when they did, it was usually to call their wives for basic info about their kid. Megumi swallowed down her bad experiences with men, sick children, and men caring for sick children, and forced a smile. “Hey! I’m-”
“Papa, is that lady a princess?” The little girl whispered, looking up at her guardian. Princess was about to join the long list of cutesy nicknames kids had given her over the years. Megumi caught the man’s quiet reply: “No, baby girl. What did we talk about?”
That boosted her self-esteem by at least 30%.
“You’re not Dr. Samito.” Before Megumi could even speak, the man turned to face her. He looked at her with narrowed eyes, cold and sharp - the same way her mother looked at pancreatic cancers that would kill her patients, or the way her brother looked at literally anything when he was pissed off.
Okay…
“No…” she answered carefully, stepping aside so they could enter her office. “My name is Takatani. Megumi.” She smiled, watching the man carry the child’s backpack himself. Oddly uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, Dr. Samito no longer works at this clinic…”
He doesn’t even work anymore. God rest his soul…
“We’re not seeing the doctor?” The little girl had a faint strawberry stain on her shirt. The man’s beard was growing in, and Megumi couldn’t ignore the fact that he was wearing combat boots. “No, sweetheart, we’re going home.” He didn’t even bother pretending to be polite - just like her father. “Sorry for your…” His eyes ran over her from head to toe, and he sighed, exhausted. “…time.”
Patients don’t have to like the doctor. But the doctor is always obligated to care for the patient.
Her father’s words echoed in her head. For all the things she disagreed with him about, he hadn’t earned the title “Dr. Takatani” for nothing (and she was still 50% him). Megumi took a step closer, summoning all her diplomatic energy.“Look, I understand you probably liked Dr. Samito…”
“That’s not the point,” the man cut her off, and Megumi bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping back. “It’s not about liking him. He knew my daughter’s case, and we trusted him.”
God, why do adults even exist?!
Pediatricians were supposed to be sweet and cuddly. At least that was the general reputation. But what Megumi had learned in her nearly thirty years immersed in medicine was the opposite: pediatricians weren’t saints who loved children. They were doctors who hated dealing with adults. And nothing was harder than dealing with parents.
Okay. He just wants to protect his kid. Be empathetic…
“Sir…” she looked at him expectantly. “Aizawa.” He said it flatly, calculating her every inch.
“All right. That’s fine.” His expression softened, and she saw the kind of exhaustion that only mirrored her darkest residency nights. “I’ll look for Dr. Samito wherever he’s practicing now…”
Why is he so damn cautious?
She reflected for a moment. Few parents—mother or father - ever came off this protective and distrustful.
Dr. Samito saved my life, and even my dad didn’t really like him…
Maybe Aizawa-san respects him because they operate the same way?
Or maybe he’s just one of those people who only trusts old doctors who haven’t read a single new article in the last fifteen years?
Megumi spiraled into rationalizations until the image of him walking out of her office jolted her back. “Aizawa-san…” She hurried after him as he turned away, holding his daughter’s hand - both of them raising an eyebrow at her at the same time.
Identical…
She blinked hard, her eyes drifting to the little girl for a moment. Then, unwillingly, they slid to her Stanford diploma - the one the clinic’s owner (and her lifelong pediatrician, now retired) had proudly hung in the lobby against her will. Megumi thought carefully about how to phrase it. The man inhaled, and then she heard him say, in English: “He died, didn’t he?”
He’s smart...
“Stroke…” she answered, the child watching them with innocent confusion. “I’m sorry, Aizawa-san.” Megumi felt the weight of her colleague’s death settle again, mirrored in the father’s reaction. Aizawa dragged his hand down over his face, muttering. His sarcasm reminded her of her angriest neurology residents - arrogant, bitter, and at the edge - just like her father. “ Wonderful… ”
Okay… what would Dr. Samito say right now?
“If it helps,” she said, glancing at the girl and noticing her skin looked just a little too pale, “I’ve got free iron samples that won’t upset her stomach…”
Appease anxious parents with supplements. Megumi, this is pediatrics 101.
“Eri, sweetheart.” The man sighed and crouched to his daughter’s level. The change in his tone was startling. How could someone be this cold and this tender at the same time? It was paradoxical. “Would it be all right if Dr. Takatani takes care of you?”
It always works!
At barely 5’2” and forced to wear business clothes just to be taken seriously, Megumi was hardly intimidating. But the way Eri half-hid behind Aizawa’s leg told her more than she wanted to know. “I don’t know, Papa…”
Oh my God, I love kids.
And kids were her patients. Her whole life revolved around them. Megumi stepped back into her office, leaving the door open.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked, already bracing for the father’s cold voice. “She doesn’t like doctors.”
Nobody does.
“Ahhh, that’s okay then…” Megumi took off her white coat and hung it by the door. So much for looking serious. “Good thing I’m a different kind of doctor…” She let her dark-blue hair down and leaned against the teddy bear-covered exam table.
“Different?” the little girl asked reluctantly as they walked in. “Yeah, see, people usually go to doctors when they’re sick and stuff…” Megumi smiled as the man quietly closed the door. Eri sat down at the toy tea table, and her father lowered himself onto the floor beside her. “…And doctors do things that hurt them.”
She would absolutely hate meeting the Great Heartless Surgeon, Aya Takatani…
“Sometimes they do,but just when patients need it.” Megumi picked up the chart from her desk and slipped off her Miu Miu heels (her brother had mocked her for being prissy when she bought them). “But I’m a pediatrician.”
“Pediatrician?” Eri tilted her head, pigtails making her look like Pucca. Megumi’s eyes fell on the toy vegetable set she used to teach new moms about nutrition. “Yeah. We’re more like gardeners, really.”
Pediatrics, literally cultivating children…
“Papa, what’s a gardener?” Eri asked, pretending to pour tea into a toy cup, her father pretending to drink. “It’s someone who plants things, Eri.” The little girl beamed, pointing at the bamboo shoot on Megumi’s desk. “Aaaaah, like making little plants grow?!”
Pretend play. Make associations. Rationalize. Psychomotor development: okay.
“Exactly!” Megumi grabbed a framed photo of the first baby she ever delivered during residency and sat beside her tiny unicorn-horned patient. “See? When a baby is born, we’re there for them, and then we keep taking care of them as they grow…”She flipped to another photo, sent to her by the same boy years later - grinning at his first soccer class. “Just like planting bamboo…”
Okay, that could actually go in a med school textbook…
“Like my daddy?” Eri smiled, staring at the baby photo for a long moment. Dr. Takatani glanced at the grumpy man, and he sighed. “I’m a teacher…”
Unexpected again.
“Well, you could say that, yeah.” Megumi felt his intense eyes on her, but she was here to care for the child—pleasing the cranky adult was just collateral. She pulled the burgundy stethoscope from her neck and held it out to the little unicorn-girl. “So, Eri… will you let me be your pediatrician?”