Chapter Text
Recovery Girl did good work. She really did, but even she had her limits. One could only do so much with tissue that had been completely disintegrated. Shiguraki had done a number on him and that elbow was never going to really be the same again.
Most days the pain was manageable. Pop a couple of pills in the morning, maybe a couple more later in the day if he’d had to be particularly active, and he would be good to go. The problem was that word ‘most’.
Aizawa grit his teeth and pressed his head back against the pillow, digging his fingers into the soft tissue around his right elbow in an attempt to alleviate the sudden muscle cramp. That he hadn’t even been doing much today was the frustrating bit. It made no logical sense that a day spent wandering around after teenagers, who despite his complaints could generally be described as responsible, should cause him to hurt like he’d just gone a couple rounds with a nomu.
Usually when this happened a few moments of pressure was all it took but this time was being particularly stubborn. All he could do was lay there breathing slowly against the pain and wait it out …which was easier said than done when his stomach was starting to turn. Cold sweat broke out on his face and he lurched upwards, stumbling towards the ensuite bathroom. He had no idea when Hizashi would be back from walking the evening rounds and cleaning up vomit was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.
The ache in his knees as he hit the hard tile floor barely registered as another spasm twisted the muscles in his arm even tighter and he had to blink to keep the tears that formed in his eyes from falling, not that anyone was around to see anyway. He leaned against the cool porcelain as his body warred between the excruciating pain in his arm and the churning that pain was causing in his stomach.
A worsening lurch lead to him sitting hunched over the bowl, his forehead pressed again his left arm, his useless right arm tucked gingerly against his side. Even if he had the strength to get his pills from his bag, there was little chance he’d be able to keep them down. It was fine though. He’d be fine. He just had to ride this out. A little pain wasn’t going to kill him.
At last his body made up its mind and an acrid burning filled his throat. In the back of his mind over the sound of his own retching he vaguely registered the click of the hotel room door opening.
Hizashi gave a startled yelp, oh right he’d forgotten to close the bathroom door in his haste to get somewhere he wouldn’t make a mess, but he didn’t even bother lifting his head to glare at his friend for the noise. At this moment he had more important things to focus on. Another wave of sickness overtook him, yet unlike normal sickness emptying his stomach didn’t do much good. His arm hurt worse than ever. Would it really have been so bad for Shiguraki to have just taken it completely off?
He must look pathetic sitting there but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. It wasn’t like Hizashi hadn’t seen him in worse positions.
Speaking of Hizashi, his friend chose that moment to settle onto the floor beside him.
Aizawa bit back a groan as Hizashi’s long fingers carded gently through his damp, tangled hair, gathering it carefully into a low bun to keep it away from his face. “Shh, Shouta, you’re okay. Which one is it this time? Head, arm, or do you think you ate something bad?” The blonde’s voice was surprisingly soft.
“Arm,” he answered roughly.
Hizashi hummed and ran a comforting hand across Aizawa’s back before tenderly wrapping his other hand around the wrist of the offending appendage. All his friend said was “Please?” but Aizawa knew what he was asking and instinctively wanted to say no, the very thought of lifting his arm excruciating to consider. No matter how much instinct screamed at him however rational thought won out in the end as it always should and he nodded slowly.
Cautiously he pushed himself back from the toilet so that he was leaning back against the wall and Hizashi moved to crouch in front of him. He grimaced as calloused fingers pushed his ragged sleeve up to see the muscles so taunt that his entire arm appeared distorted. A sharp hiss. “Damn it, Sho. Why aren’t you wearing the brace Shuzenji gave you?”
Aizawa gave a one shouldered shrug. “It messes with my range of motion.”
A frustrated growl this time. “Then you tell someone and we find something else. You don’t just stop wearing anything. You’ve gotta take better care of yourself, man.”
He didn’t have an answer for that, but it didn’t appear that one was expected because the blond immediately stood and stalked back out of the hotel room. With anyone else he might have felt abandoned by the sudden exit, but Hizashi wasn’t anyone else. The blond always came back. He was stubborn that way.
His assessment proved accurate several minutes later when his friend returned carrying a bucket of ice and a red bagged first aid kit from the security desk which he set down on the floor before leaving again, this time just around the corner into the hotel room itself to return a moment later with a bottle of water and a paper cup - “to rinse your mouth” in answer to Aizawa’s raised eyebrow.
While Aizawa busied himself taking sips of water and swishing them around in his mouth and then spitting them out into the paper cup, Hizashi grabbed a couple towels and folded them into ice filled envelopes.
“Ready?”
“No.”
But his friend ignored the glare being leveled at him to carefully lift the painful limb and settle it back against the makeshift ice packs though he at least had the grace to look remorseful when Aizawa couldn’t hold back a whimper.
The ice didn’t have the immediate effect they both would have hoped for but it was soothing once his arm stopped being extra angry about having been moved. It was briefly debated whether or not he should lie down but the final decision was that the hard floor would be no more comfortable lying down than sitting up and just the thought of getting up to move back to the bed was enough to cause the nausea to swirl again. So in the end they stayed exactly where they already were while Hizashi rooted around in the first aid kit. The blond pulled out a compression wrap and then shortly thereafter a few bottles.
“Okay, Shouta, so you need muscle relaxers and something to settle your stomach. I can either give you pills or there’s stuff in this kit for me to give you a shot. Which way do you want it?”
The dubious wisdom of allowing his friend, who was specifically NOT a doctor, to inject him with anything was overruled by his desire to have his pain relieved sooner rather than later.
“Shot and if it stops hurting I won’t need the nausea meds,” he decided though he watched with trepidation he would never actually admit to while the syringe was being prepared.
“You don’t have to watch you know.”
“I’m just making sure you don’t mess up.”
*****
Hizashi chose not to dignify that comment with a response instead choosing to focus his attention on finding the right place to inject the muscle relaxant. He’d never admit to Shouta how much it scared him every time he walked in on his friend in pain. Thankfully the frequency of those experiences was beginning to revert to pre-USJ levels but that didn’t make it any less terrifying to see his stoic friend reduced to quivering in agony. There. That looked like the right spot – he hoped. He’d really been hoping that Shouta would decide on the pills but this would be faster which was why he’d felt compelled to offer.
Shouta hissed when the shot went in but by the time he’d capped and disposed of the needle and turned back to his friend he could tell that the medicine was already working from the way the tension around the dark eyes was starting to ease.
He might as well help it along though. Moving slowly so that Shouta would have time to tell him to stop if he didn’t want to be touched right away, Hizashi gathered his friend’s wrist into his hands and tentatively began to apply gentle pressure up the arm, massaging more firmly into the still tight but finally loosening muscles when Shouta didn’t push him away or seem to be hurting any worse. He kept working at it until he couldn’t find a single remaining knot to work on.
At last pain free Shouta was slumping steadily sideways, increased exhaustion a lingering side effect of the ordeal, but Hizashi’s attention was captured by barely perceptible shivers overtaking his friend’s body, another reaction to the relief and probably to the ice packs slowly melting and wetting his shirt.
“Hey,” he reached out and rested his hand against the crook of Shouta’s neck to rouse him, his thumb coming up seeking the pulse point. “We need to get you into some dry clothes.”
The dark-haired man’s hand came up to weakly bat him away. “Comfortable right here,” he groused.
Hizashi chuckled. “Yeah, you won’t be much longer. Here, I’ll help you.” Gently, still wary of hurting his friend even if all signs pointed to the attack being past, he pulled the towels away and tossed them up into the sink before sidling up to Shouta’s left and pulling his good arm over his shoulder.
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting you up. What’s it look like?” Bracing a knee against the wall (Shouta looked slight but he was surprisingly dense so the leverage would be helpful), Hizashi wrapped his arms around his friend as though to give him a hug and stood up as fluidly as possible. At first Shouta was just dead weight but as it made it through his head what was happening he started to help until they were both at last on their feet though one of them swayed precariously. Hizashi paused a moment to make sure that Shouta wasn’t going to slump down again until they reached the bed but at last they were moving out of the bathroom.
He pulled back the covers of Shouta’s bed in one smooth flick and kept a steadying hand on his left arm until his friend was sitting down at which point he made his way over the big chair in the corner where Shouta had tossed his knapsack having declined to actually unpack the thing for their entire stay and pulled out a clean t-shirt and sweatpants. When he moved to help the other man change however he found himself firmly slapped away.
“I can dress myself, Zashi.” The growling tone would have led an outsider to think that Shouta was angry but Hizashi knew that the nickname was as good as a ‘Thank You’ and didn’t pressure him.
“Okay I’m just going to go clean up the bathroom then. Holler if you need me.”
He worked slowly as he put everything away, dumping out the unused ice, rearranging everything in the first aid kit, even wiping down the floor. He was certainly being more meticulous than the job required but Shouta was a very private person. Being fussed over, or even just having Hizashi watching him, now that he was more coherent would be the last thing he wanted. However just as he was contemplating whether or not he should clean the sink a second time, he heard his name called.
Coming back out into the room he had to bite his lip to keep from grinning in spite of the situation. Shouta was lying down now, wet clothes flung sloppily across the room in the vague direction of the chair, and he’d obviously been attempting to wrap his own arm in the compression bandage Hizashi had left on the nightstand. He hadn’t quite succeeded. It was always awkward to wrap your own injury and even more so when you had to do it with your non-dominant hand. The wrapping that Shouta had managed before losing his grip on the bandage roll was laughably loose and with the runaway bandage trailing across the room the other man definitely gave the impression of a sad kitten tangled in a ball of yarn.
“What are you waiting for? A little help over here, please?”
“Right, Doctor Yamada to the rescue!” It was lucky that Sho’s eyes only erased quirks and didn’t shoot daggers because if they did the Voice Hero would be dead a few times over. But they didn’t, so he wasn’t, so he chose to ignore his friend’s annoyance, instead whistling while he gathered up the wayward cloth. “Scoot over.”
He settled in on the mattress and started in on the task of detangling his friend.
While he was working Shouta’s phone buzzed.
“So when were you gonna tell me about this?”
A bright screen filled his field of vision, and he was greeted with a picture of himself standing ankle deep in intensely turquoise foam spilling out from one of the panel rooms while holding an equally intensely turquoise teenager by the scruff of the neck. A quick flick of his finger showed that it was attached to a memo from the conference staff explaining the changes resulting from the need to move all sessions scheduled to be in that room tomorrow elsewhere.
“I’ll have you know I was a little preoccupied making sure that my best friend wasn’t dying!”
“Don’t be melodramatic. So what happened?”
“Prank gone wrong. Couple of Ketsubutsu kids thought it would be a good idea to rig up the world’s biggest explosion of elephant toothpaste to go off during the first session tomorrow morning. They didn’t anticipate it going off early and interacting with one of their quirks. They’re gonna have to replace everything in the room because that color ain’t comin’ off any time soon.”
“Ketsubutsu? Joke’s kids?” Shouta growled.
“Nah, these were first years. Their teacher was practically tripping over himself to apologize.”
Shouta was visibly relieved to hear that. “Well at least you caught them.”
Hizashi chewed his lip. “About that…”
Uh oh, the glare was back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ya see, they rigged it up to go off under UA’s section.”
“But you still caught them…” Shouta raised an eyebrow.
“Not exactly… Sho, you should probably warn your kids. When we got them in a room, they spilled that there were more pranks set up by other schools to target your class.” In fact they sang like canaries. Unfortunately they weren’t sure of how many other schools were involved or how to find many of the other set-ups since apparently a few schools were masking them with a stealth quirk – assuming the kid had been telling the truth. “We were still looking when my shift ended so it might be nothing, but after what those kids have already been through this year…” he trailed off and continued working in silence to wrap Shouta’s elbow. The stoicism was back, but he knew that his friend’s brain was working as fast as his own. Of course UA’s prestige had always made it a bit of a target for rivalries from other schools, but something was definitely up with this year. Sure out loud this incident sounded like harmless teenage shenanigans but written out as a full report this kind of stuff was downright criminal regardless of their intentions. Maybe they’d get lucky and the kids were just trying to get out of a harsh punishment but appearing not to be alone.
Unfortunately no sooner had he finished wrapping his friend’s arm than his hopes were dashed. This time it was his phone going off. A quick glance at his phone showed Kamui Wood’s name across the screen. It was too soon for them to have finished searching the entire center which means they found something. Couldn’t these kids catch a break?
Nishiya Shinji:
Those kids were telling the truth, Mic. We just found two more rigs under UA seating. You need to come back down here. One of these is a bit more than just a prank.