Chapter Text
The day Aoyama suddenly fainted in the middle of Gym Gamma was the day Aizawa learned that the infamous UA traitor had an eating disorder.
Japan was no longer stuck in the midst of a relentless war, the memories of the final fights only becoming more distant by the day. It was hard to say that either side had won–the heroes had managed to put an end to All For One, the most influential villain of the century, but the subsequent aftermath had left the country in shambles. Many lives were lost, and most major cities in Japan had been decimated without mercy. But the events of the final battle had restored the public's trust in the heroes, so the country's future restoration was possible-although it was a daunting task, even with the aid of every hero available.
UA High had graciously offered the assistance of their students and faculty to the restoration efforts. Every returning student had been given permission to stay in the dorms, but instead of continuing their lessons in the classroom, they were all busy out in the field. The new school agenda consisted of repairing the salvageable buildings and escorting the refugees back to their old homes.
Despite the daily schedule already being packed with work, the UA teachers wanted to prioritize their educational studies when possible. Aizawa could never call himself a teacher if he didn't take advantage of every single learning opportunity, no matter how big or small it was. So outside of the usual field work hours, Aizawa would bring his students back to Gym Gamma, the training center Class 1-A visited the most often, and give the heroes-in-training free-range of the facility to hone their quirks to their heart's content.
Aizawa always had to keep his eye on a few select students–the ones he affectionately dubbed his “problem children.” But there was one particular student that concerned Aizawa the most–the boy who was only recently revealed to be worthy of the “problem child” status. Yuga Aoyama's betrayal and partnership with All For One had taken the entire school by surprise, and everyone was still recovering from it to some degree. Because of the severity of his crimes, Aoyama's return to UA was uncertain for a long time. But despite the controversy that arose from the other teachers, Aizawa had fought tooth and nail to allow the boy back on the premises. He’d seen for himself how hard Aoyama had worked to keep up with his classmates, even when his monumental secret was still weighing him down. As far as Aizawa was concerned, Aoyama had earned his spot in UA fair and square–he deserved a proper chance to become a hero free from All For One's manipulation.
Aizawa never liked interfering when he didn't have to, so he kept watch over Aoyama from a respectable distance. He fully trusted his French-speaking student, but he felt a strange protective instinct over him that he hadn't felt with anyone else. Perhaps that was because he was beyond frustrated with himself for missing Aoyama’s quiet cries of help. Even so, Aizawa knew he shouldn’t hold onto his regrets, so he did everything he could to give Aoyama a fair opportunity to grow into a hero.
Aoyama’s outward appearance had noticeably softened ever since his secret was revealed. But Aizawa believed that he was in the process of slowly healing and moving on. Aoyama was no longer held captive by All For One’s wishes. He had no reason to be in emotional turmoil anymore.
But Aizawa underestimated how destructive a villain's influence could be on the mental health of a mere child.
It was just another school day for Class 1-A. The students had spent the majority of their class rebuilding one of the destroyed elementary schools in the next town over. They were finishing the day back at Gym Gamma like usual, using their final hour to focus on developing their quirks. Aizawa was supervising as usual.
All was normal. All was still. There were no threats of an oncoming war, no attacks from the villains, and no reasons to worry. For once, Aizawa could simply stand in place and watch his students in peace.
Then he saw a body slump to the ground.
The surrounding students had all frozen in place to stare at the collapsed body in the distance. Kirishima, who'd been parrying the laser shots with his Hardening quirk, cried out in distress, "Aoyama!"
Instantly alarmed, Aizawa dashed over to the boy in the knight costume. His young body was limp on the ground, his eyes closed and his breath light.
He passed out from exhaustion.
While any sort of fainting child was still a cause of concern, Aizawa didn’t want to panic over it. If anything, he felt a little irritated knowing that Aoyama had ignored his advice to not push himself past his limit–something that most of his other students didn’t understand, either. He'd just have to yell at Aoyama for overworking once he woke back up.
Aizawa went into the usual protocol for spontaneous fainting incidents. He knelt down to get closer to Aoyama, the other students hovering worriedly over his shoulder. Nothing appeared to be worth panicking over–although Aizawa was wondering why he looked a little more exhausted than the other unconscious teenagers he'd cared for in the past. But he pushed that thought out of his mind as he pressed two of his fingers to Aoyama’s neck. That probably looked a little concerning to the students behind him, but it was just part of the procedure. Aizawa just needed to quickly confirm that Aoyama was fine.
The resting boy’s skin was warm to the touch. But that was all Aizawa felt.
Aizawa paused, his black eyes widening ever so slightly.
Did he not feel a pulse?
Breaking out into a cold sweat, Aizawa pressed his fingers harder against Aoyama’s neck, his mind reeling as he desperately searched for any sort of pulse. But the only thing he could feel was how unnaturally faint Aoyama’s breath was.
His heart caught in his throat.
"Shit!"
He whipped his head backwards and locked eyes with the first student he saw. "Midoriya, call 119 right now!"
Just seeing Aizawa's quick change of attitude threw his students into immediate alarm. Midoriya scrambled for his phone as Aizawa directed Iida to find outside help as quickly as he could. He tried to tell the remaining students to keep calm and not panic, but it was hard to be a pillar of strength and keep his poise when he was internally freaking out.
Aizawa's fingers were still on the boy's neck. He wasn't quite sure who's pulse he was feeling–his own racing heart, or the faint beat of Aoyama's. Still in an internal panic, Aizawa sat back a bit, scrutinizing Aoyama's entire body in hopes of finding some sort of reassurance that he would wake up just fine. But all he could see was how frail Aoyama looked on the ground. He'd never seen Aoyama look so unusually weak before, with dark bags under his hollowed eyes and unnatural bony outlines around the only visible parts of his skin. He looked so lifeless that Aizawa was legitimately afraid that he was going to lose another student like he'd nearly lost Bakugou.
At such a critical life-or-death moment, Aizawa didn't have time to ponder why Aoyama's appearance had changed so drastically. It wasn't until after the emergency services had arrived that he could begin connecting the dots. The first responders charged towards Aizawa and the resting boy, nearly shoving the teacher out of the way as they took control of the situation. The other UA teachers finally arrived on the scene as Aoyama was lifted onto the stretcher, the two adults carrying him out of the building with ease like he was as light as a feather.
Present Mic was looking back and forth from Aizawa to the exit. "What happened to him?"
Aizawa didn't know how to respond. Instead, he completely ignored the question and walked away. "Let me see what's happening."
There was one emergency responder who hadn't congregated with the rest of them. He stayed at the doorway to talk to Aizawa before he could pass. "Were you willingly letting him practice with your class?"
Aizawa's utter confusion made him stop right in his tracks. "Yes?" he said plainly, uncertain if the man's comment was an innocent question or a direct dig at his teaching style. "He's part of my class."
The responder frowned at him. "You shouldn't be allowing someone like him to exert so much energy."
Aizawa wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel insulted or alarmed.
"What do you mean?" Aizawa asked as calmly as he could, trying to push down the creeping worry in his voice. He was already used to defending Aoyama, but that wasn't exactly the first thought on his mind when he was more worried about the possibility of his student dying. "There's nothing wrong with him. He's no different than my other students."
"Nothing wrong with him?" the man repeated in disbelief. Aizawa winced knowing what he was going to say next. "He's clearly malnutritioned. Are you feeding your students proper meals? Is there some sort of hero diet you're putting them on?"
Malnutritioned.
A lack of proper nutrition. Even though every student in UA had equal opportunity to eat as much as they wanted.
Aizawa was confused. How could Aoyama be malnutritioned when none of his other students were? What would make him unable to stay well-fed while everyone else was perfectly healthy?
A montage of memories played in Aizawa's head.
He remembered the way Aoyama had lost his sparkle ever since his identity as All For One's spy had been revealed. He remembered the way Aoyama's personality had been fundamentally changed by the events of his arrest and the reactions from that day. He remembered the way Aoyama had grown so uncomfortable and quiet around the same classmates he was so genuinely happy around a long time ago. He remembered the way Aoyama was still so mysterious despite his true identity being revealed–and how Aizawa understood very little about it.
It had never occurred to the teacher that his twinkling student was still hiding information about himself to that very day.
…Oh no, don't tell me…
There was a small theory forming in his mind about Aoyama's sudden drop in physical health. It brought Aizawa great pain to even consider such a theory.
The ambulance wasted no time driving Aoyama to Central Hospital, the same place the boy had visited after his arrest to make sure he hadn't been on the brink of exploding. But the mild concern Aizawa had felt on that day was nothing compared to the sickening dread in his stomach right then. Because he hadn't been in actual fear of Aoyama dying from what should've been a minor accident.
Aizawa stood in silence in the waiting room, Present Mic positioned nearby for emotional support. The one theory he'd conjured up earlier was only feeling more likely by the second, and it was driving Aizawa's head in intolerable, guilt-filled circles. It must've shown through his typical stoic expression because Present Mic gave him a sharp nudge with his elbow, pulling Aizawa out of his thoughts. "You're getting lost in your head again, Shota."
"Hizashi." Aizawa barely kept his voice steady, but he couldn't deny that the weight of his realization was controlling his emotions. "I think he's starving himself on purpose."
Present Mic looked at him. Either he had already realized that himself or he wasn't that surprised in the first place, because he only had a somber frown on his face. "Honestly, with the way Aoyama's been acting ever since that day…I can believe it."
The two teachers looked at each other, and Aizawa knew that his close friend was thinking the same exact thing as him. The entire school–every student, teacher, and everyone else who'd ever interacted with UA–had already missed Aoyama's pleas of help, so the idea that they were missing another glaring, extremely grave issue tormented Aizawa's mind even more than before.
By the time Aizawa was given permission to enter Aoyama's room, he was already late to the scene. Both of the Aoyama parents were by their son's bedside, the mother tightly holding the resting boy's hand and the father supportively rubbing his wife's back. They both had devastated looks on their faces as they gazed down at their son, and Aizawa realized that they'd been completely blindsided by the decreasing health of Aoyama, too–much to his escalating frustration. Aoyama himself looked tired, but he was conscious, a thin tube inserted into his nose. The three Aoyama family members simultaneously turned towards Aizawa as he entered, and the reptilian-like doctor near the entrance did the same.
The doctor seemed interested in Aizawa's presence. "Were you aware of this?"
Aizawa dearly hoped that his improvised theory wasn't about to be proven true. "Aware of what?"
The Aoyama parents watched with fear in their eyes as the doctor simply said, "Aware of his restrictive eating habits."
And there it was.
Aizawa sighed in frustration. "No. None of us knew." As he said it, his eyes traveled back to Aoyama. The tired boy didn't say anything, only watching with the same frown that always seemed to be on his face recently.
God, how did I miss it? Aizawa couldn't believe that he was so oblivious to the physical changes in Aoyama's body. He could certainly see them from his spot in the hospital room. Aoyama's bulky hero costume had hidden his dangerously thin frame underneath, his loosely-fitting hospital gown making his limbs look like they would snap in half from a simple bend.
The doctor frowned at Aizawa for another moment before turning back to Aoyama, the boy becoming the center of everyone's attention. “You do realize just how serious this is, right?”
Aoyama's expression didn't change at all, and Aizawa realized that he wasn't even the slightest bit surprised by the doctor's diagnosis. He understood fully well why his health was so poor. “Yes. I’m aware.”
The subtle pain in his voice reminded Aizawa of his deep conversation with Aoyama back when he was in jail. The incarcerated boy had been shackled to his chair, his limbs restrained tightly against him as he confided in his teacher how completely hopeless he was–to the point of preferring the mercy of death over the chance to one day atone for his crimes. Aizawa had barely recognized the person sitting on the other side of the glass.
Aizawa wondered if Aoyama's newly-revealed eating disorder had anything to do with the feelings they had discussed on that day. He quickly came to the conclusion that Aoyama's feelings hadn’t ever been fixed; he had only learned how to disguise them better.
“Cases like yours are becoming increasingly common in our country,” the doctor said. “Losing a large part of your body weight in such a short period of time has serious consequences on your health. It doesn’t just affect your appearance. Many patients with eating disorders eventually experience weakened bones, heart issues, muscle loss, and a plethora of other problems.” He kept his stare. “If untreated, it can even lead to death.”
Aoyama returned his stare, the slightest wobble in his eyesight. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do,” the doctor argued, his tone much more authoritative. “You have to take your treatment seriously. We'll put you on a refeeding schedule so you can regain the body weight you lost, but it's imperative that you keep a good mindset so you don't end up relapsing once you leave.”
Aoyama was quiet for a notable moment. “Okay.”
Aizawa narrowed his eyes at the solemn boy resting on the hospital bed. Never had he felt so frustrated in his life. He'd tried so hard to give Aoyama–a boy who had already struggled for most of his life–a chance to heal, but he had only made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. His student was caught in a disease that could very well take over his life.
Aizawa wanted to rectify his mistake. He wanted Aoyama to heal from his trauma and recover from the emotional problems that accompanied it. If that meant he needed to step in and take a more active role in Aoyama's growth, then so be it.
“In that case…” The doctor took a quick glance at his clipboard, pulling Aizawa out of his thoughts once again–he really needed to stop getting so distracted so easily. “We should discuss the root of the problem before taking any action.” He pulled up a spare chair and sat down. “Aoyama, can you tell me the reason why you’re struggling so much?”
Aizawa saw the way the parents gave each other knowing looks. The public had been purposely left in the dark about Aoyama's status as an enemy spy. That was a conversation Aizawa didn't need to be a part of–not that he would ever want to have that conversation ever again. So he exited the room, leaving with a strange sense of dread that wasn’t there before.
The rest of Aoyama's story could very well have a bad outcome.