Chapter Text
Hitoshi is only vaguely aware of his surroundings for a significant while. He’s aware of his body to some extent, the aching burning feeling in his throat and lungs for example keeping him tethered to reality. There’s flashes of voices around him, asking him questions he thinks. Voices that sound concerned and he tries to make his body cooperate with him to wave them off; he tries hard to get past the pain in his throat to say that he’s fine, nobody needs to worry about him and his stupid cough. But every time he finds himself unable to do so. Everything feels too bright, and his voice is too scratchy to talk and he doesn't want to open his eyes, he just wants to sleep. So, after his third drift back towards consciousness and his attempts to communicate coming out garbled when he tries to ask where he is and why he feels like he’s moving, Hitoshi allows his tired body and brain to stop fighting and slip into a fitful sleep.
When he finally wakes up enough to distinguish more than a bright light and pain, he blinks his eyes open to find the ceiling of Recovery Girl’s nurse’s office above him. He inhales and finds his lungs still aching, but less than they were, and then notices the same with his throat.
Hitoshi looks around without lifting his head from the pillows, unsure if he could even if he wanted to, judging by the weakness weighing heavily on his body as though he has stones attached to his bones. A glance to his right shows the curtain pulled around the side of his bed. He tries to lift his hand, but as he does he feels a sharp pinch in the crook of his elbow and discovers that he’s attached to a drip as well.
Hitoshi swallows convulsively, and bites the inside of his cheek, trying hard to combat the feelings of panic threatening to rise up. He turns his head back to the ceiling, finding the tiles an easier sight right now, and works on remembering what had happened. They had been in training right? And he...collapsed or something.
Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck. Of course he had to collapse in the middle of a training scenario not more than a couple months into his first official year of the hero course. All he had wanted to do was prove himself and that he was worth his place on the course and he had done the absolute opposite.
He lifts the hand not hooked up to the IV and covers his eyes, working on breathing, but then another thought occurs to him that makes him pinch his eyes tightly shut his teeth clench, despite the way the actions make him feel dizzy and pain spark in his head.
Aizawa. Fuck, Aizawa was at training, he would have seen him blow his team’s chance with a fucking coughing fit and then passing out . He totally blew his chance to properly show off what he had learned, what Aizawa had taught him. It was their first big training exercise of the year! How could he have fucked up like that! That morning he had been mostly fine, his cough had been getting a bit worse but he was managing; then he got to the exercise and suddenly he had been useless. He lets out a groan of despair and wishes the bed would just open up into some kind of void for him to escape this reality.
That doesn not happen however. Instead the sound of his groan appears to alert another occupant of the room that he is awake, as suddenly there's the squeak of an office chair swiftly followed by the noise of shoes landing on the floor and short quick steps coming up to his side that have his eyes snapping open under his hand. He hears the curtain pull back and he lifts his hand from his eyes enough to peek around the side.
“Oh Shinso, you’re awake! That’s very good,” Recovery girl says, her small figure feeling somehow imposing as she looks at him around the edge of the curtain. “What were you thinking about, training in your condition? Things could have gone a lot worse!”
She shuffles forward, pushing the curtain back more, presumably as he is now awake. Hitoshi removes his hand from his eyes entirely when she reaches up to put a hand to his forehead.
He coughs to clear his throat enough to talk. “I’m sorry, Recovery Girl,” he croaks. “But I’m alright, really, no need to worry. I just need some sleep or something and I’ll be fine-”
She withdraws her hand and looks at him with such an intensity that he startles back as much as he can propped against pillows. “You are no such thing! Young boy, you have pneumonia, that requires more than a bit of sleep! I’ve used my quirk on you to speed up your healing some but you were already exhausted when you got here so I’m afraid I’ve only been able to do the minimum. What were you thinking training in such a state?!”
The sound of the door opening saves him from having to answer as he gapes at the small woman, but then he sees who has just pushed through the door and he wishes he could go back to the interrogation from Recovery Girl.
Aizawa enters the room looking tired and pissed off, which is approximately his default look, but the pinch to his brows shows Shinso he’s actually made for once. Hitoshi really really wishes he could trade back for Recovery Girl’s interrogation.
The woman in question stops scowling at him to look up at the sound of the door and turns to it. “Ah, Shouta, there you are. Your boy’s finally awake, as you can see."
He meets his eyes only for a moment, but then Hitoshi has to look away and back down to the sheets, not wanting to see the disappointment he knows will be there.
“Recovery Girl, would you mind allowing me to have a word in private with my student for a moment please?” Hitoshi feels a stone drop in his stomach and his heart rate start to climb.
Recovery Girl huffs, turning her scowl on Aizawa now. “You should not be causing him undue stress at this moment. He is trying to recover from a particularly nasty respiratory disease.”
“Shuzenji, I understand that, and I will try to be brief in what I have to discuss. I assure you I will do my best to not impede his recovery.”
Recovery Girl doesn’t look happy, but to Hitoshi’s dismay she relents. “You may only have a few minutes, I mean it Shouta. He needs his rest.”
She leaves them and Hitoshi keeps his eyes fixed downwardly on the bed. He starts pulling at the edge of the blanket until a few threads start coming loose but he uses it to distract himself from the eyes burning into the side of his head.
Aizawa sighs, walking over to sit in the chair at Hitoshi’s bedside. Hitoshi wishes he felt strong enough to sit up and look him in the eyes while he scolds him for his fuck up. There’s a nagging fear trying to consume him that this will affect his place on the course, but he expects it probably won’t. Probably, but he might get put on probation or something. Fuck he really doesn’t want to get kicked off. He feels it’s more likely to just affect his place in Aizawa's home. After his teacher has already done so much for him, and how much work effort he's made to help him and he couldn’t use it properly. Now with everything he’s been doing for Eri too, Hitoshi hates that he's caused so much trouble from getting fucking sick, and in training of all places. It would make sense if this was the last straw. Hopefully they would still let him stay at the dorms permanently instead. That would be good enough. Maybe. The thought makes him pull harder on the edge of the blanket at losing the little surrogate almost family.
"Shinso," Aizawa says, tone not giving enough away for Hitoshi to dissect.
"Yeah."
"What happened out there today?"
Hitoshi shrugs. He hates that Aizawa is drawing this out. He wishes he would just tell him what his punishment was and be done with it.
When he replies he doesn’t look up, keeping his eyes fixed on the way the weave of the blanket’s edge is fraying under his attention. "I fucked up during training and ruined my team’s chances then made extra work by disrupting training for everyone else."
Aizawa sighs. "That's not what I meant, kid.”
Hitoshi’s eyes flick up hesitantly. He finds Aizawa staring back at him and he hates how weak he feels right now. He hates how fucking trapped he is with not enough strength to even sit up without his lungs aching and he definitely can’t escape this conversation if he wanted to. And he definitely wants to, even if he would still probably stay for it either way.
Aizawa is still sitting forward with his elbows on his knees frowning, then he inhales deeply and scrubs his palm over his eyes and when he speaks it’s quieter than Hitoshi expected, and spoken with his hand still covering his eyes giving Hitoshi a reprieve from his searching gaze. “Kid, what the fuck were you thinking?
Hitoshi blinks for a second. He’s not quite sure how to respond to that question, the words not computing. “Uh, I was trying to get a good grade for my team?”
He thinks he hears a mutter of something that sound’s like ‘fucking problem children’ then Aizawa removes his hand from his face and looks at him tiredly. “Shinso, how long have you not been feeling well?”
This conversation is going significantly differently than he expected but the question still feels like some kind of trap, so he’s careful when he replies.
“I was fine. It was a cough and I was handling it-”
“Pneumonia is more than a cough, Shinso!” His expression snaps to anger and even though it’s what he was waiting for it still hurts. Hitoshi grips the blanket beside him in his fist and looks away.
"I was fine. I didn’t think it would be a problem, and I’m sorry for getting sick. I didn’t mean to fuck up that bad.”
In his periphery he sees Aizawa deflate, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, anger apparently under control again. "That's not- I’m the one who’s looking after you now, Shinso. You need to tell me if something’s wrong. Not let it get so bad that you pass out in training after a coughing fit and scare your teammates in the process.”
"I was-"
"Don't say you were fine,” Aizawa says sharply, gaze intense as it snaps to him. “Do you understand what I’m saying? You collapsed , Shinso. You can’t do that as a hero, you can’t look after yourself so badly that you put not only yourself but others in danger like that.”
Hitoshi feels cold sweep over him. Fuck, this might be worse than he thought.
“I’m sorry. I- it won’t happen again I promise.” He feels exhausted and doesn’t know what else to say to make it better. Doesn’t know what to say to save his place on the course.
Aizawa looks at him consideringly. And Hitoshi looks up and tries to hold his gaze, putting every ounce of sincerity into it. But too soon the back of his eyes start burning and he looks down.
"Shinso, as both your teacher and guardian, I am telling you to take a break. Until you're better, but after that too. No extra training, not with me and not with any of the other staff or your classmates. I'm putting a ban on all things other than the basic necessities of your studies."
Hitoshi’s eyes snap back up. “No, Aizawa you can’t! I fucked up but please-"
He puts up a placating hand trying to calm Hitoshi’s bargaining. His heart is racing. Taking a break? He can’t take a break. It’s not getting kicked off the course but if he’s not doing his extra training then he’ll get further behind. It might as well be a delayed expulsion.
Aizawa’s tone has become a little softer, but it still has that stern edge to it that suggests he won’t be argued with. “I’'m not going to control you unnecessarily, but as the one responsible for you I am stepping in to tell you you need to take it easier than you have been. You can’t keep up this pace, kid."
"What if I get further behind?" Hitoshi asks desperately.
Aizawa looks at him flatly and hitoshi feels a burst of anger in his chest. "Shinso, you've been working harder than everyone else in 2-A for months-"
"Everyone in my class has been training to be a hero since the beginning of first year! I'm playing fucking catch up here! I can't afford to slack off!" His voice feels tight and his lungs burn. He doesn't have the strength to sit any further than the support of his pillows but he grips the blanket over his legs tightly as if that is a good alternative. Aizawa is looking at him with surprise byt Hitoshi doesn’t care. "I’m not going back to general studies again! Not now after everything I’ve done! Aizawa, I can't I-" Hitoshi feels his lip wobble and hates it. He'll blame it on being sick and how just fucking tired he is, but even so, he can't help it when tears start brimming in his eyes and the emotional lump in histhroat blocks his words. He looks away sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face and biting at the inside of his cheek.
The room is painfully silent for a moment and Hitoshi tries to not sniffle as he quells the tears trying to fall staring resolutely at his legs under the blanket. He wishes he could go back twenty seconds and just accept Aizawa’s punishment without showing that he cared.
Eventually though, it's Aizawa who breaks the silence, and when he does it makes Hitoshi’s thoughts he had been gathering scatter.
"I’m sorry."
Hitoshi looks up. He surely must have misheard? "What?"
Aizawa sighs, and there’s a waver to it that confuses Hitoshi.. "I'm sorry. I forgot how stressful it is to be afraid your dream will be taken away after you get it. I forgot that you've only been on the course for a few months after it took you nearly a year to get there, and how much pressure you put on yourself," he pauses and stands, moving forward until he can place his hand gently on his shoulder and he tilts his head down to look fixedly into Hitoshi’s eyes as he speaks. "You're doing a good job, Shinso. I wanted to help you get on the hero course because I saw something I recognised in you and I think you’re made to be a hero. Just because you need a break doesn’t mean you are going to lose any of what you’ve built, I promise you.”
He's looking at Hitoshi with a seriousness that bores into him, like he's trying to make him understand with just his stare, on top of his words. It makes Hitoshi feel desperately small and childlike, but in a way that he's not used to feeling.
Hitoshi suddenly feels the full force of how exhausted and scared he’s been since training, the pain in his lungs and the way his whole body just feels worn out. The way he’s been dragging himself around the last week on top of how hard he’s been working all seems to crash into him at once. The surge of feeling makes Hitoshi unclench his hand from the blanket and he reaches for the edge of Aizawa's shirt, gripping the edge tightly. He uses his grip to yank himself the small space forward until he can put his face against his mentor’s chest and then he fucking cries, unable to stop himself.
Instead of pushing him away like Hitoshi expects, Aizawa's arm comes around his shoulders in a very un-Aizawa like hug, but that act means more than just a hug to him. Combined with his statement which Hitoshi is still trying desperately to process, it's making him feel like maybe Aizawa was serious about being his guardian. It’s confusing him so much with the way his mind feels foggy and tired and he can’t stop crying . Aizawa’s acting like the actual parent he signed up to be, even though he had thought it was mostly a formality done out of pity or out of kindness. But he’s instead behaving like a parent, and one who willingly choose Hitoshi even with everything he knows about him. Aizawa lets him cry and doesn't complain that he's getting his shirt wet, or that he's being overly emotional and childish. And Hitoshi feels so tired.
When he stops crying with a couple of hiccups Aizawa withdraws his arm and pats Hitoshi's hair consolingly, but he still waits for Hitoshi to pull back first. He eventually leans back against his pillows feeling drained. Aizawa leans down to be closer to eye level without Hitoshi having to look up.
"You don't have to worry about getting kicked off the course. I won’t let that happen, Shinso. I mean it.” His gaze is one step away from the intensity normally reserved for using his quirk, like he’s trying to make Hitoshi believe him with the look alone.
Hitoshi swallows and nods. "Okay. Um...thank you, Aizawa. Sensei."
Aizawa nods and straightens, stepping back so he can lean against the side of the bed.
"I'm not kidding about taking a break, though, kid. You need to rest. I know you want to put the effort in, but you need to take at least a week or so off."
Hitoshi grumbles, rolling his thankfully dry eyes, trying to make himself more composed after that display. "Okay. Whatever, fine, I'll take a break from extra training."
Aizawa nods. "Good." Then there's a shift to his demeanor and it's the same as when he's decided to set Hitoshi a particularly mean challenge in training. That annoying sadistic streak shows even as he hides the smirk Hitoshi knows he wants to give. "Now, is there a reason why Kaminari hasn't left me alone for the last four hours trying to get updates on how you're doing?"
Hitoshi feels his face heat and looks away to the side with a shrug. "No reason. He's just...clingy or whatever."
Aizawa is clearly taking pleasure in his discomfort. Ugh. "Uh huh, alright.” He pushes off from the bed and smirks at him evilly. “Well, is it alright if I let him come visit later before I decide to kill him for pestering me?"
He coughs self-consciously because he knows he’s going to say yes and what that will reveal. "Yeah. Kaminari can stop by if he wants."
All he gets as acknowledgement is a nod and Hitoshi is grateful for small mercies.
“Recovery Girl wants to keep you here overnight to make sure you're okay, but you should be back to the dorms soon, or your room in the apartment if you’d prefer. Try and get some rest if you can, and I'll drop in tomorrow, maybe with Eri if you're up to that. She’s managed to hear from someone that you were in here and wanted to come see you but I thought I should ask you what you wanted first.”
Hitoshi smiles at the thought of the little girl who he's begun to reluctantly think of as a kind of sister. And then his brain catches up to the offer of recuperating at the Yamada-Aizawa residence instead of having to deal with the dorms. It all feels a little too much, making warmth swell in his chest enough he has to swallow again before speaking. "Yeah, that'd be good."
Aizawa nods, and reaches out to give his shoulder a passing squeeze before heading for the door. "Get some sleep, kid. You need it.”