Work Text:
It was any other day when it happened.
Shouta was exhausted, as per usual. He was running on three hours of sleep and four (soon approaching five) cups of coffee. His eyebags had never felt deeper.
He trudged into class one minute before it was due to start, glancing around to make sure none of his students were fighting each other, damaging school property, or setting anything on fire. The students settled down into their seats and fell silent as he dropped his things at his desk.
He opened his bag and pulled out a thick manilla folder. “Pop quiz,” Shouta announced, holding up a stack of tests.
His class groaned.
“Seriously?” Kaminari groaned. “We just had one yesterday.”
“Yeah, and we’ve got that big English test today too,” added Ashido.
A number of students murmured in agreement, chatting amongst themselves about the unfairness of the situation. Shouta listened for barely a moment before he held up his hands.
“Up-up-up, I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “If you paid attention in training yesterday, this should be easy.”
Shouta began handing the test out, occasionally kicking a student’s chair leg or tapping their shoulder to wake them up or get them to sit up straight. He wasn’t expecting them to be cheerful– it was Thursday, after all, and he would be a hypocrite if he expected them to be happy– but he did expect their attention. Most of the students obeyed, but when he got to Shinsou’s desk, he found him with his head down, his leg bouncing.
“Shinsou,” he said, placing the test on the edge of his desk. “Sit up.”
Shinsou obeyed, eyes glassy with what was obviously exhaustion. “Hm?”
“Test,” he reiterated, sliding the packet to sit in front of him.
“Mm,” he hummed. He picked up his pencil and stared at the page.
Shouta shook off the odd feeling he got from the interaction. It was likely that he simply had not slept well the previous night, and pushing would do nothing. Instead of dwelling on it, he continued on until every student had a packet. He sat back at his desk and wrote Jirou’s name on the spare test. He’d give it to her once she was well enough to come to class again. Flu season was running rampant this year.
He was interrupted about five minutes in by the sound of metal screeching. He looked up to see Shinsou hunched over his desk, gripping the edge and staring down at it with a strikingly focused gaze.
“Shinsou. Sit back down. The test isn’t over yet.”
Shinsou ignored him. Shouta tried not to let the irritation bubbling at the back of his throat show outwardly.
“Shinsou. Please sit down, or I’m going to give you detention.”
Shinsou looked up, his eyes unfocused and his face blank. Shouta glanced down and saw that his knuckles were turning white– a shade that he found matched the color of his student’s face. Alarmed, Shouta pushed past the rows of desks over to his student.
“Shinsou, can you hear me?”
Shinsou opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came out.
Mutters broke out throughout the classroom, students looking up from their tests to stare at the commotion. Shouta shot them a harsh look, biting out a “did the bell ring yet? No? Keep working then,” and turned back to his student. Up close he saw that Shinsou was sweating. He reached down to one of his wrists. Shinsou’s pulse fluttered beneath his fingertips– so fast that Shouta could barely make out the individual beats.
“I need you to get on the floor. Right now,” Shouta instructed. Shinsou didn’t look like he’d heard, instead letting out an unintelligible series of mumbles, so Shouta took his arm and guided him down, keeping his fingers over his pulse point. Shinsou went like a plastic doll, stiff but pliant. Shouta helped him lay down and lifted his feet up to rest on his chair. He removed Shinsou’s jacket and folded it, pillowing it beneath his head, and grabbed his wrist again.
Slowly but surely, his pulse began to climb back down. Shouta looked at his watch and timed it for fifteen seconds, multiplying it by four and coming up with a rate of one hundred and fifty-two beats per minute. Once it was down to one hundred and thirty-two, Shinsou shut his eyes and whimpered. Shouta leaned over him, angling himself in such a way that blocked the worst of the light from hitting his student’s eyes.
“Shinsou? Can you hear me?”
Shinsou nodded, wincing. “Sorry,” he said, taking in a steadying breath.
“We’re going to talk about this later,” said Shouta. He reached over to Shinsou’s backpack, grabbing his water bottle. He flipped open the top and helped Shinsou sit up enough to sip at it, helping him get his feet off of the chair. “Has this happened before?”
Shinsou nodded again. “Um, yeah. I have POTS.”
Shouta frowned. “POTS?”
“Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome,” Shinsou sighed, rehearsed and resigned, like he’d expected Shouta to not know what he was referring to. “Makes me feel dizzy sometimes.”
“Any reason you feel dizzy today?”
“Forgot my pills.”
Shouta’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. “You forgot your medication? Is it with Recovery Girl?”
“No.”
“So you’re illegally carrying a prescription? Or do you take it before you come to school?”
“No, no, it’s not a medication. Supplement. Salt pills.” Shinsou gestured toward his backpack. “In the front pouch.”
Shouta unzipped the pouch and pulled out a decent-sized contained. “Salt Stick Vitassium,” he read out. “I assume this is it?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s your usual dose? And can you take them now, or do you need to wait for your next dose?”
“I can take them now, and two.”
Shouta unscrewed the lid, shaking two capsules out onto his hand. He dropped them into Shinsou’s waiting hand and let him take the water bottle. He watched as Shinsou swallowed the pills with practiced ease and laid back down, breathing deeply.
“Do you think you can sit up?” Shouta asked, sitting back on his haunches.
Shinsou shrugged. Shouta let Shinsou haul himself up. Shinsou glanced down at his wristwatch, tapping an icon on the screen. The watch buzzed after a moment and brought up a heart rate of ninety-four. He waited a moment, then tapped it again. It came up as one hundred and seven.
“Not too bad,” he commented.
“Can you stand?”
Shinsou shook his head. “Definitely not.”
Shouta pursed his lips with a sigh. “Iida,” he said.
“Yes, Mr. Aizawa?”
“Please go get the nurse. Tell her to bring a wheelchair.”
“Yes, sir!”
Shouta sighed again. He patted Shinsou’s knee. “Don’t move,” he said. Shinsou nodded. He hauled himself up, using the table to brace himself, and sat down at Shinsou’s desk. “Keep an eye on that watch.”
Shinsou hummed. “It’s s’posed to buzz if it gets over one-fifty,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes, crossing his arms. He tapped at his forearms. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his arms there.
Shouta kept an eye on Shinsou while he sat on the floor, simultaneously making sure his students were still focused on their tests. He caught a few students– Midoriya and Kaminari, mostly– glancing at the scene a few times, but since they were still working, he figured their was no logical reason to stop them.
Midoriya turned in his paper in record time, and as soon as he’d placed it on Shouta’s desk, he was kneeling at Shinsou’s side.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Midoriya whispered. “I could’ve helped.”
Shinsou shrugged. “Didn’t realize it was that bad til it was too late.”
Midoriya sighed. He placed a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder and kept it there.
Shouta listened to the two quietly converse, though it was mostly one-sided on Midoriya’s part, until Shuzenji and Iida finally arrived, wheelchair in tow.
“I got her,” said Iida, standing up ramrod straight.
“Thank you, Iida. Go finish your test. If you need extra time, you can come in during lunch.”
Iida nodded curtly. He pushed the wheelchair so it sat next to Shinsou’s desk and went back to his seat.
Shuzenji hobbled around the wheelchair, First Aid kit in hand. “Mind explaining what happened here, dear?”
Shinsou glanced at Midoriya, then at Shouta. Midoriya smiled, and Shouta offered a nod. “I got dizzy,” he said. “I have POTS.”
Shuzenji frowned. “I don’t recall seeing that in your chart.”
“Recent diagnosis,” said Shinsou.
“Is this a common occurrence?”
He shrugged. “Forgot my salt sticks.”
“Hm. Yes, that will do it. Come on now– Midoriya, Aizawa, help him into the chair. I want to continue this in my office.”
Shouta slid off the desk and bent down to wrap an arm around Shinsou. His arm pressed against the watch. Midoriya did the same for his other side, and together, they hoisted him off the ground. Shouta grunted, adjusting to the weight. Shinsou’s watch buzzed after a few seconds. He and Midoriya guided him to sit in the chair. The watch face read one hundred and fifty-three beats per minute. Shouta held his hands out, ready to catch him if he toppled over. Luckily, that didn’t appear to be the case. Shinsou instead leaned back, dragging his feet to rest on the pedals and breathing deeply. He closed his eyes. The measurement on the watch dropped to one-thirty-five within the next few minutes.
“Will one of you push him?”
Shouta wordlessly stepped behind the chair and began to push, careful not to clip Shuzenji’s heels. Midoriya hovered nervously off to the side, keeping pace with the chair. He stopped to pick up Shinsou’s abandoned jacket. He slipped behind Shouta when they approached the door, allowing Shuzenji to lead the two of them through first.
“Keep working,” he said, turning slightly to address the class. “Iida is in charge. If I hear anything of anyone talking or cheating or whatever, it’s a week of detention.”
“Yes, Mr. Aizawa,” the class chorused.
Shouta sniffed and kept walking.
The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, punctuated only by Shinsou’s heavy breaths and Midoriya’s anxious muttering. When they reached the office, Shuzenji propped open the door and allowed them to pass through.
When they reached one of the empty cots, Shouta leaned down to push the brake. The wheelchair jolted to a stop. He rounded the chair and, with the help of Midoriya, lifted Shinsou up by his arms and set him down on the bed. Midoriya stood back to let Shouta push him into a supine position. Shuzenji removed the pillow and placed it at the foot of the bed.
“Put your feet up there, sonny,” she said. “I’ll go get some more.”
Shinsou hummed and lifted his feet up, resting them on top of the pillow. His hair scrunched awkwardly under his head. He crossed his arms over his chest, adjusting his uniform shirt.
“Midoriya, go help her.”
“A-are you sure? I don’t want to leave him!”
“The linen closet’s on the other end of this hall. Do you really want Recovery Girl to have to carry all those pillows back herself?”
“No,” he muttered, kicking the foot of the bed lightly.
Shinsou reached up and lightly tapped his shoulder with his fist. “Hey, go help her. I’ll be fine.”
Midoriya bit his lip. “If you’re sure…”
Shinsou smiled slightly. “I’ll be fine. Go help.”
Midoriya nodded, glancing briefly at Shouta before he scurried off.
As soon as Midoriya’s footsteps faded, Shouta leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Any reason you didn’t tell me about this before?” he asked.
Shinsou shrugged. “It’s normally not so bad. I just get flares sometimes.”
“You didn’t think this was maybe something I needed to know?”
“I was gonna tell you eventually, I just didn’t think it’d be a problem till later.”
“Yeah? What if you collapsed during training and hit your head? What if you passed out during a real battle? This is dangerous. I need you to understand that.”
“I understand, Mr. Aizawa.” Shinsou at least had the decency to look chastised.
“I don’t think you do,” he continued. He straightened himself out, facing Shinsou head-on. “I need to know about any potential dangers that may come up. As it stands, this is making you a liability.”
Shinsou shot up, eyes blown wide open. “No! I promise this won’t get in the way! I can still be a hero!”
“I never said anything about you not being a hero,” Shouta said calmly. He stepped forward, easing Shinsou back down on the bed. Shinsou’s eyes locked with his, wide and panicked. “However, you cannot keep that promise.”
“Mr. Aizawa, I–”
“I’m not finished,” he said, raising a hand. Shinsou bit his lip. “I need to know these things in case it does become a problem. If you feel dizzy, if your heart rate goes too high, if you feel even the slightest bit faint, I need to know so I can decide how to proceed in a manner that doesn’t put you, your classmates, other heroes, or civilians in even more danger. It cannot get to this point, especially not in the field.”
Shinsou nodded, though it was more of a jerk of his head. He avoided Shouta’s gaze when he said, “yes, Mr. Aizawa.”
Shouta studied his face, then sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He patted Shinsou’s leg.
“You’re a real load of work kid, you know that?”
That got a little smile out of Shinsou, who looked up again. “I’m your load of work, old man. You chose to train me. Don’t forget that.”
Shouta snorted, rolling his eyes. He leaned over to ruffle Shinsou’s hair, messing up what little shape it had left. Shinsou balked, smoothing it down with his hands.
“Get some rest,” he said, standing. “I’ll come in to check on you during lunch.”
Shinsou hummed. “Okay.”
Shouta patted his leg one final time and turned to leave, sighing deeply.
The things he dealt with sometimes.