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Hitoshi was six when he had his first seizure. They started as absence seizures, and Hitoshi would be watching TV or playing a game, and then he would suddenly feel like he could not move. The sensation disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and he continued watching what was in front of him.
Hitoshi was seven when his parents took notice of his spacing out. He’d gotten in trouble at school for ignoring his teacher despite them calling his name five times. His teacher thought he’d purposefully ignored her, but Hitoshi didn’t remember her calling his name. He remembers listening to her talk about something in Japanese history, and the next second, she was in front of his desk with a very annoyed look on her face.
“If you’re not going to pay attention in class, then you can sit outside,” She pointed to the door.
“But I-” She cut him off with a glare.
Hitoshi collected his things and tried to avoid the judging looks of his classmates. He hadn’t done anything wrong! He sat down heavily outside the classroom and pulled his knees up to his chest. It had to do something with his quirk; his previous teacher made him sit outside the class all the time just for asking a simple question; why had he thought Konishi-sensei would be any different?
He buries his face in his knees and loses himself in the sound of the activity of the school around him. Minutes later, he hears the sound of heels on the tile and looks up. Konishi-sensei approaches him with folded arms and a stormy look on her face.
He quickly looked away. Teachers, especially angry teachers, never meant anything good. “Hitoshi,” Konishi-sensei sighed, “You’re better than this, kiddo. What’s been going on? You’ve not been as focused recently; you haven’t been paying as much attention in class, and its beginning to affect your grades,”
Wait, what? Hitoshi looked up at her, his brow furrowed. He didn’t remember spacing out but recalled that he'd been doing something a few times in the past week and suddenly realized that what he thought was only a minute was actually five minutes.
This was...well, this was concerning.
“Hitoshi?”
He blinked and looked up at Konishi-sense and was surprised to see that the anger was gone and there was only concern. “You just did it again, kid,”
“Huh?” He murmured
“Wait right here; I’m going to write you a note to take to the nurse’s office,” Then she was gone.
Hitoshi stood there, confused. Nurses office? But he wasn’t sick. What was going on? Konishi-sensei returned a minute or two later with a slip and an envelope. “Give the slip to Sada-sensei. I would like to speak with your parents,”
Hitoshi nodded and swallowed the discomfort. He waited in the nurse's office the rest of the day, confused about how Sada-sensei watched him like a hawk. When his mother came to pick him up, she was greeted by Konishi-sensei and Sada-sensei. The two of them asked his mother to join them in Sada-sensei’s office while he waited outside. The meeting didn’t last very long, but when his mother came out, she looked very concerned.
The next few days were confusing for Hitoshi. On the first day, a Saturday, his parents whispered a lot and watched him intently. The same happened on Sunday, besides his mother's secretive phone calls that he saw her make. Monday was much different from the previous two days. Monday found them on a long car ride to Kyoto to a big building that smelled weird. He met some nice people dressed in different colors. They placed sticky pads all over his face and head and flashed lights that hurt his eyes and head and made him space out more. He felt so relieved when they finally stopped the lights and gave him a cookie and a juice box, and then there were more tasks that finally ended with what felt like ages.
The following week was more or less normal, and his parents weird behavior went away. Then, on a Thursday afternoon, his parents took off work and took him out of school, and drove back to that big building. He sat quietly with his parents in a colorful room with different flyers that felt too difficult to read. There’s eventually a knock on the door, and a man enters. He doesn’t introduce himself, but Hitoshi remembers his name as Dr. Kosuji and that he works with his father. The doctor had a kind face, and there was something comforting about him that Hitoshi felt he could trust.
“It's nice to see you, Yuma-san; Its felt like ages since I’ve seen you and Hitoshi-Kun,”
His mother chuckles. “Ah, well, I got the promotion to clinic manager, which increased my hours,”
“Ah, Kaoru told me about that. Congratulations, by the way,” His father smiled.
Dr. Kosuji looks down at the papers in his hands and looks over them for a moment before he looks directly at Hitoshi. “Well, Hitoshi, it appears you’ve been having absence seizures. You know how people have been saying you’ve been spacing out?”
Hitoshi nods.
“Well, that is the seizures that you’ve been having. Those pads that we put on your head were us testing to see what your brain is doing,”
“So, he has epilepsy?” His father asks.
Epilepsy? That sounds concerning, but his doctor’s face doesn’t look grave.
“Yes, he does,” He hands a paper over to his father. His father scans over it for a moment and then nods.
“So, what does this mean for Hitoshi?” His mother probes.
“Well, this can mean many things. His quirk causes his seizures, so he won’t grow out of it due to how his brain works with his quirk, but medication will control it.
“What does his quirk do that makes it unlikely for him to grow out of it?” His mother asks.
“His brain is put to work more than the normal brain. It's firing off so many electrical signals to compensate for his quirk, and his brain is getting confused by it, which in turn confuses the nerves. The medication I’ll put him on is specialized for quirk users with mental quirks. These will reduce the seizures he has by a good amount,”
“How often should he have a repeat EEG?”
“I recommend him coming back here every three months to make sure the medication is managing it, but otherwise, he is perfectly healthy,”
As he and his parents left the building, Hitoshi felt relieved. Things would get better, and his parents would help watch out for them. Later, when they went out for ice cream, Hitoshi took comfort in knowing he wasn’t alone.
Hitoshi is nine when his parents are killed in an accident. Their death is sudden, and Hitoshi is devastated. The funeral is quick and attended by him and some of their close family friends. His grandparents had died some years before, and his parents had been an only child. His absence seizures increase in the days after the funeral and the time Daigo-San, his caseworker, takes him in.
He stays at her home for a week while she looks for someone to take him in, but Hitoshi can’t bring himself to care. Most nights are spent crying himself to sleep and trying to keep quiet when Daigo-San checks on him. He recalls from his doctor that lack of sleep makes them worse, but how is he supposed to sleep when he is alone in the world?
Hitoshi’s head aches one morning, and everything feels so distant. Daigo-San informs him that she’s found a family that can take him in within the Saitama area, and all Hitoshi does is swallow the nausea in his throat and lies back down.
Daigo-san drops him off with Nagase Kan and Sayo the next day. They're weary of him because of his quirk, and Hitoshi is weary of them in turn. The moment Daigo-San leaves, their personalities change. Mr. Nagase shoves a muzzle into his face. Hitoshi struggles, eyes blown wide, and he scratches at Mr.Nagase’s hand. It only makes him angrier.
“We only have two rules. Rule number one, absolutely no talking, and rule number 2, is you get what you need from the others; do not bother us. The mask comes off to eat meals and for school, and that’s it,” Mr.Nagase snarls, and Hitoshi does his best to nod through the sobs trying to rip from him forcefully.
Mrs. Nagase yells up the stairs for someone and a girl, maybe a year or so younger than him, comes bounding down. She’s pale, her eyes a light blue, and very tired looking. Her pale blond hair is pulled up in a ponytail. “Kitamura, show Shinsou to the boy’s room,” Mrs.Nagase doesn’t wait for her answer, and Hitoshi follows the girl up the stairs.
She shows him to the room he’ll be staying in, occupied by three other boys ranging from five to maybe eight.They all look nervous and have varying degrees of quirk suppressants on.
Kitamura closes the door behind her, and Hitoshi is left in a room with people he doesn’t know.
Living with the Nagase’s is awful. Mr. Nagase is unpredictable, and Mrs. Nagase is neglectful. Most nights, the two of them are in bed by eight o clock, leaving the children to fend for themselves. This leaves Hitoshi and Kitamura to figure out how to feed themselves.
He learns his roommate's names are Eijiri Reizo, Ogino Kuma, and Komuro Masaki. They all have some level of ‘villainous’ quirk, Hitoshi learns to his disdain. Their skittish and barely talk, but Hitoshi can’t tell if that is due to their foster parents or if they're naturally quiet. They always get their schoolwork done, and then they tug on Hitoshi or Kitamura’s arm when hungry.
Things really go to shit three months in. Hitoshi has run out of medication and can feel a seizure. The kids are asleep, Kitamura is cleaning dishes, and he’s focusing on schoolwork. It's quiet, and then the door slams open.
Mr. Nagase stumbles in, grumbling under his breath. Hitoshi turns his attention back to his work and then finds himself unable to move. His breathing is steady, but his hands are twitching. He can hear Mr. Nagase call his name, slurred and almost incomprehensible. The man calls his name again, this time angrier, and then there’s a hand on his shoulder. Mr. Nagase jerks him from his seat and shakes him, face flushed from alcohol and rage.
“What is wrong with you?” He snarls, voice slurred. Everything comes back all at once, and Hitoshi gasps. Hitoshi tries to sign, but the man grows and drops him roughly onto the ground. Hitoshi lays there, limbs shaking, head aching. His breaths come faster, and it's hard to breathe through the mask.
“You come when I call you,” Mr. Nagase snarls and then stomps up the stairs. He feels Kitamura touch his shoulder, but all Hitoshi can do is squeeze into himself.
Hitoshi is ten when he has his first tonic-clonic seizure. He’d been feeling off for a few days; spots had been appearing in his vision, his mouth would get a random metallic taste in his mouth, and there was a feeling of disassociation that didn’t feel quite like he was disassociating. He’d managed to get up and go to school the first two days, but the symptoms made him feel worse on the third day.
He packed the kids' lunches, made them breakfast, made Kitamura’s lunch very quickly, and then sent them on the way to school. It's only when Kitamura is about to leave the house that his vision sways.
He doesn’t know if he stumbles, but he’s on the ground within a second of his temple throbbing. His vision goes dark, and he hears himself groan, his muscles go rigid, and he thinks he hears Kitamura yelling his name before his awareness disappears.
He comes to in the back of an ambulance.
Everything feels sore. His right shoulder aches with a vengeance, his head is pounding, and Hitoshi can’t quite remember what he could’ve done to end up in the back of the ambulance. He squints up at the overhead light and hisses when something pulls in his arm.
“Hey, he’s up!” A voice calls, and he winces because ow .
Then a person appears above him, a smile on their face. “Hey, kiddo, I know you’re probably really confused right now, but you just had a seizure. You’re probably feeling exhausted and out of it, am I right?”
“Yeah,” His voice sounds slurred, and he can hear the exhaustion in his voice. He just wants to go back to sleep. Wait, shit , how did he get in the back of an ambulance? He tries to pick his head up, but yeah, nope, he’s definitely not moving.
“Woah, kid,” The man pushes against his shoulder, “Relax, we’re gonna get you to the hospital and check you out; make sure everything’s alright,”
“Kitamura,” Hitoshi whines; where was she? She has to be terrified; he can remember her screaming right before he lost consciousness. She probably had no idea what to do.
“Kitamura? Do you mean the girl? Ah, she’s right outside talking with my buddy. I’ll get her for you,”
The man calls out to someone, and suddenly there’s Kitamura right beside him with tears in her eyes. She’s shaking and looks about a second away from breaking down. “‘M sorry, Kit,” Hitoshi slurs. He’s so tired, and the world is beginning to dim again.
He loses consciousness once again.
He wakes up in the hospital with a dark-haired man beside his bed. Hitoshi’s head feels substantially less heavy, but the ache in his limbs remains. There are those same sticky pads on his head, and Hitoshi groans when he remembers all that’s happened.
He had his first tonic-clonic seizure.
He’d looked it up when he was a little younger but hoped he wouldn’t have one. Shit , this was one more thing to worry about. He sighs, turns over on his side, and nearly leaps out of his skin. A dark-haired man studies him from the chair, face blank of any emotion.
No, Hitoshi doesn’t nearly squeal.
“Um,” He starts, “Hi,”
The man snorts and then presses the button by his bed. “How’re you feeling?” The man’s voice is deep and a little rough, and it almost sounds familiar.
“I feel fine. Who are you?” Hitoshi wondered.
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aizawa Shouta. I was contacted by your caseworker, Mrs.Daigo,”
“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with my seizure?”
“You have epilepsy,”
Yes, he is, but Daigo-San knew he was epileptic. He’s still not sure he understands.
“Yeah?”
“You've not had your medication refilled in quite a while. Your file shows that you were prescribed topiramate, but your prescription was never refilled when you ran out a few months in your foster home,”
Hitoshi shrugged. He didn’t know what Aizawa wanted him to say. “Yeah, they thought I was fine, thought it was too much money,” Hitoshi tried to pretend that being without the medication wasn’t that bad, but there were days it was so hard to focus, and he’d have seizure after seizure. It was exhausting . And suddenly, Hitoshi finds tears streaking down his face and a sob pulling itself from him.
He was so tired.
“You’re being removed from that house, Hitoshi, and the Nagase’s are being investigated,”
Hitoshi sniffles and wipes at his cheeks so he can look at the man. “Where am I going to go?” His voice is shaky.
“Me and my husband. I know what it's like, Hitoshi. I have seizures as well,” Aizawa smiles.
Hitoshi bursts back into tears.
Hitoshi is eleven when Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi adopt him. They welcomed him with open arms and reminded him so much of the parents that he missed every day. Aizawa got him back topiramate, and everything got a bit easier.
Of course, he still has absence seizures and days where he can’t get out of bed, but Yamada and Aizawa were understanding. On those days, they brought him breakfast and didn’t make him go to school. Aizawa made him feel incredibly less alone. He’d seen the man have seizures, quite similar to his, and he’d watch Yamada sit beside him and be there for him when he’d come back to.
Even though the medication significantly reduced his seizures, he would suffer a tonic-clonic seizure every few months. He’d never forget the first one he had in the Aizawa-Yamada household. He’d been feeling bad for the past few days, having aura’s, when one afternoon, he felt a seizure coming.
Hitoshi could feel his breathing get heavier, and he was a little scared. “Aizawa,” His adopted father looked up at the shake in his voice, jumping up from his chair at the tears floating in Hitoshi’s eyes. “‘M about to have a seizure,” The words had come out slurred, and Aizawa got to moving immediately.
He moved the coffee table and instructed Hitoshi to lie on his side. The boy lay down, and tears trickled down his face. Aizawa’s hand rubbed his shoulder. “It's alright, Hitoshi, relax. I’m right here; I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up,”
Hitoshi let his muscles relax and whimpered when his vision went dark. Aizawa’s voice was the last thing he heard before consciousness left him.
Hitoshi comes to consciousness with fingers dragging through his hair. His body is aching, and he feels so tired. “You’re alright, Hitoshi. It's over,” The boy’s eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment for his vision to clear, but Aizawa’s face is what greets him when he does.
“You’re ok, Hitoshi; everything is alright,”
And Hitoshi believes him.