Chapter Text
“Are you okay?”
Aizawa looks up at Yamada, fresh out of the shower in a well-worn tee emblazoned with the logo of some club Aizawa doesn’t know, hair still slightly damp from washing out the day’s layers of gel and spray. His voice is a little louder than strictly necessary, something he never quite got the hang of controlling when he’s not wearing his hearing aids.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Aizawa asks, signing.
“You watched one of your students have a seizure today.”
“I’ve seen plenty of seizures, Hizashi.”
“Sure, but it’s different when it’s someone you know and not some civilian you ran into on patrol.”
Aizawa pauses, taking stock of his current state. His jaw is tense, his eyes are dry, his elbow is aching, he’s probably dehydrated. Maybe today’s events hit him harder than he realised.
“Did you eat lunch today?” Yamada asks.
Aizawa shrugs.
“Let’s order takeout for dinner then,” Yamada says, “your usual from the bento place near the mall?”
Aizawa nods. Yamada opens the delivery app on his phone.
“He didn’t think he could take a day off,” Aizawa says, picking at the remainder of his rice.
“I can think of a few other people I know like that,” Yamada says, stealing one of the untouched tempura shrimp from Aizawa’s bento.
“That’s not the same,” Aizawa says, putting his other tempura shrimp on the edge of Yamada’s plate. “He knew he was likely to have a seizure, and he came to class anyway because he had an English test.”
Yamada pauses. “Did I do something to make him think he couldn’t take a sick day?”
Aizawa shakes his head. “I think he had a few bad teachers in the past. Apparently he thought his accommodations were just a formality, not something he actually got to use.”
Yamada’s eyes widen. “That’s messed up.”
“But not really surprising, is it?”
Yamada shakes his head. “Not really.”
Aizawa continues picking at his food, and Yamada continues eating.
Tofu is winding circles around the legs of the dining table, hoping one of the men will give in and let her have a piece of their meal. Aizawa, as usual, is the one to pick out a small piece of chicken and hold it out for the cat. She takes it with a contented ‘mrrp’, making herself comfortable under Aizawa’s chair.
"Could you remind me to speak to the wellbeing staff tomorrow?" Aizawa asks, "obviously I’d like Kaminari to talk to them personally, but I think the entire class would benefit from a seminar on the accommodations available to them."
"Sure!" Yamada says, "But first, are you gonna finish that or are you just gonna keep picking at it? You can’t be looking after your students without looking after yourself first.”
Aizawa’s phone rings halfway through breakfast. He stares at the caller ID, his mind taking a moment to register the kanji out of their usual context.
Kaminari Denki.
He answers the phone call. “Aizawa speaking.”
“Hey, Mr Aizawa,” Kaminari’s voice filters through the phone. “Sorry to call so early, but I wanted to ask if we could do something in class this morning.”
Seeing Kaminari in class this early is certainly a unique sight. He’s even beat Iida, which must be some kind of record.
“So how much of this do you want me to lead?” Aizawa asks.
I think I want to do most of the talking,” Kaminari says, “it’s about telling people on my own terms, right? So I should explain it myself.”
Aizawa nods. “Okay.”
The rest of the class filters in, taking their seats or gathering around each other’s desks to chat before class starts. When Jirou enters, she gives Kaminari a questioning look, to which Kaminari responds with a nod and a reassuring smile.
Aizawa checks his watch, waiting for the digital display to show 8:25 exactly before starting homeroom. He runs through the usual items, aware of the fact that the class’s collective attention is elsewhere, and then hands over to Kaminari.
Kaminari stands from his desk and walks to the front of the classroom, hands wringing nervously.
"Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “As some of you guys know now, I have epilepsy. It's not exactly caused by my Quirk, but my Quirk does cause my epilepsy to be triggered by some kinda weird stuff. Like, I'm not photosensitive, that's when people get seizures from flashing lights and stuff, but I am more likely to have a seizure during a lightning storm, or if I touch something particularly static-ey, or if I charge my Quirk but don’t discharge it properly, and a couple of other things."
Aizawa watches the rest of the class as Kaminari speaks. Midoriya’s fingers are itching for a pen, but he has the self-awareness to not take Quirk notes right now. Jirou, Mina, Kirishima, Sero, and Bakugou all look like they recognise this explanation, presumably because Kaminari spoke with them after he got out of the infirmary yesterday.
“That’s what happened yesterday. I had a seizure, and it kinda sucked, but I'm okay now.”
There are a few whispers, some sidelong glances at Jirou and Iida, but nothing more.
Kaminari laughs nervously. “Okay, you’re all gonna have to stop staring at me like that. Does anyone have any questions?”
Several hands raise at once.
“Damn, that’s more questions than I was expecting,” Kaminari mutters, “Mr Aizawa you pick someone.”
Aizawa scans the room. “Uraraka.”
“Do you have seizures often? I’ve never noticed you leave class like that before.”
“That depends on what kind of seizure you’re talking about,” Kaminari says, “I don’t have full tonic-clonic seizures that often, maybe one every few months, but I have actually had focal seizures in class.”
There are several exclamations of shock from the class.
“Focal seizures aren’t always visible to other people,” Kaminari explains, “mine are usually like, auras and some weird sensory stuff,” he waves a hand vaguely in front of his eyes, “so most people don’t notice unless they’re talking to me and I start acting weird.”
Uraraka nods, a serious look on her face.
“Okay, next question,” Aizawa says. Less hands raise this time. “Asui.”
“Are your seizures related to your short-circuiting?”
“No, actually,” Kaminari says, “but I have had seizures while short-circuited before, which is like, doubly-weird for me because I don’t often remember either my short-circuiting or my seizures.”
“Sero,” Aizawa picks once the students raise their hands again.
“Are we gonna get week-long extensions on our tests every time you have to miss a class?” Sero asks, sounding almost hopeful.
“No,” Aizawa answers before Kaminari can say anything.
Kaminari gives an apologetic shrug to his friend. Sero laughs.
“Are there any other questions that are actually relevant to the topic?” Aizawa asks.
One hand raises.
“Todoroki?”
“Will we be covering relevant first aid in our classes?”
Kaminari looks to Aizawa.
“Yes. Usually seizure first aid is a little later in the curriculum, but Kaminari and I spoke this morning, and we agreed it was logical to move it to an earlier block for your class. We’ll be covering it later this week as part of our standard first aid training.”
With no more questions, the class moves on.
“Mr Aizawa?”
Aizawa looks up from his computer to see Kaminari standing awkwardly at the staff room doorway. Aizawa stands from his desk and meets the student at the doorway.
“I just wanted to thank you for letting me do that this morning,” Kaminari says, “I don’t think I coulda done that without you backing me up.”
“It was only logical,” Aizawa says, “my job is to ensure you and your classmates have the best possible education, and part of that is ensuring you all have the skills to communicate with and understand one another. I merely facilitated some of that communication.”
“Still,” Kaminari says, “it was cool of you.”
Aizawa gives a noncommittal hum. “Have you spoken to the wellbeing staff yet?”
“I was just on my way there now, actually,” Kaminari says, “but this staff room is on the way, so…”
Aizawa nods. “I’ll let you get to them, then.”
Kaminari nods, smiling, and heads back into the hallway.
“You are getting soft,” Yamada calls from the other end of the staff room.
“Why would you say that?” Aizawa asks.
“I’ve known you for 15 years, Shouta, that capture scarf doesn’t hide your smile that easily.”