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Some days were worse than others. There was no rhyme or reason as to why. Some days, Shouta was fine, or as close to it as he could get. Other days, he couldn’t do anything without his entire body protesting and refusing to move without jolts of electric pain running through him. This was one of those days. They didn’t come often anymore, mostly because Shouta had a nasty habit of ignoring the pain, thinking that if he just didn’t acknowledge it, it’d go away. Instead, it just put days like this off.
He’d lucked out a bit today, though. He’d scheduled an exam for today weeks ago, which meant that all the kids were too nervous to notice or comment when he had to sit down when lecturing during homeroom, rather than talking from his podium. It also meant that he could sit behind his desk during the exam and not have to be moving around. It wasn’t ideal—it never was when this happened—because it was during a weekday, a weekday when not only did he have to teach, but he also had to patrol tonight. Calling off wasn’t an option he hardly ever considered, but this—
It was ten minutes into the exam, and Shouta was already leaning forward on his desk, gritting his teeth and resting his forehead on the surface, hoping the kids were all too focused on their tests to look up and figure out that something was wrong.
He was fine. He could get through this. He hadn’t wanted to deal with it this morning and hadn’t said anything to Hizashi. Hizashi had been admittedly suspicious, though, when Shouta had asked him to drive him to work today, since they usually just walked, or Hizashi would drive and Shouta would walk. He hadn’t said much, though, and it was just before school started, when Shouta had been curled up under his desk in the teachers’ lounge, that he’d finally accepted that today was just one of those days.
He was fine.
He really wasn’t, though. It was taking everything he had right now to drag himself back up to even just sitting upright. He held his breath, the room being so quiet that any sound he made would draw the attention of twenty anxious kids, gripping the edges of his desk, nails digging into the wood, and pulled himself upwards. He was still leaning heavily on his desk like this, but at least he didn’t have his head pressed against the wood and looked somewhat presentable.
He glanced around the room. Uraraka was looking up at him from her desk, seeming as though she’d just glanced up for a moment, but the second he caught her gaze, her eyes widened and she quickly dropped her head, expression like someone who’d just gotten caught doing something terrible. It took him a moment, a long moment of clouded thinking, but Shouta realized that he most likely looked fairly mad. He wasn’t—he usually had good control over his expressions and kept himself as neutral as possible, but in his attempts to hide the way he couldn’t even move without his body trying to prevent it and crying out in painful, electric protests, he’d grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes and he supposed it was probably similar to the expression he wore when he was dealing with kids in trouble.
Maybe he’d make it up to her later, if he could figure out a way to do so without revealing everything. And a way of doing it without having to get up.
Honestly, Shouta had no idea what he was going to do once this exam was over. Getting up was out of the question at this point. He could barely sit up, requiring the support from the desk to do so. His skin burned and itched with every rub of the material of his jumpsuit, even though his costume had been specifically designed for comfort. Everything was on fire, and every time he even tried to shift positions, his back and every muscle in his body became aflame with pain. Nothing could make it better, and Shouta had no idea how he was going to get himself out of the classroom after this.
To make matters worse, Hizashi’s class was next. All the periods following this one were shorter, due to the exam, and Shouta had a free period after this before he had to go teach his regular classes, but he clearly wasn’t capable of moving out of this classroom, much less moving to the other classes he taught. He had almost an hour and a half left to figure it out, and he was trying to figure out a way to get out of here.
He supposed he could just crawl under his desk and try to roll himself into his sleeping bag and just hope that he blended in enough and that Hizashi wouldn’t have any reason to look under the desk when he came in, but that was a short-term solution that didn’t solve the rest of his problems.
His chair did have wheels on it, but somehow scooting himself out into the hallway and to another classroom would look ridiculous and draw attention he didn’t want on him.
There was the option of calling Nemuri, but Shouta discarded that almost as quickly. He was fine. He could handle this alone, and if he called her and managed to get himself to ask her for help, word would absolutely get back to Hizashi before Shouta was even off the phone with her. It was an option, but not something Shouta could ever consider.
Another wave of burning, shooting pain hit him hard, and Shouta gripped his desk, knuckles turning stark white, gritting his teeth and trying to take this wave of pain, fighting to keep his dry eyes open. It took a while to die down, long enough that Shouta’s eyes itched enough that he closed them, waiting until the burning had subsided into the usual constant ache to breathe out and open his eyes again.
What he saw honestly did make him want to crawl under his desk.
Shinsou stood in front of him, holding out a filled out exam packet, staring at him with the same violet gaze that Shouta often gave students. He had no idea how long the kid had been there, having not heard him approach.
“How are you already done—?” He hissed through his teeth, sounding far angrier than he meant to. The test was designed to take at least an hour, and Shinsou had somehow finished in fifteen minutes. He’d known that the kid was smart before moving him into his class, from both mentoring him and taking him in, but he hadn’t expected him to get done with a difficult exam so quickly.
“I knew the material and studied,” Shinsou dropped the packet onto his desk, but lingered in front of him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Sensei, are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
It was louder than he’d meant it to be. It was notoriously hard to control his tone and voice when all he wanted to do was curl up under his desk and go into some sort of pain induced coma until this was all over and done with. That sounded ideal right now, but Shouta had an exam to proctor, classes to teach, and a patrol to do later, and right now, it all just seemed like so much and—
“Clearly you aren’t,” Shinsou commented, keeping his voice quiet. He still stayed, pausing a moment before smiling at Shouta, Shouta wanting to snap at him to go back to his desk the moment he say the smirk on his face, “Sensei, if you’re so concerned about me finishing the exam so early, why don’t you take me into the hallway to talk about it? I’m sure this is distracting to the other students.”
Shouta’s fingernails dug into the wood of his desk and he let out a soft hiss as his body tensed, another wave of fiery pain hitting him, dulling his voice to less of an order and more of a pathetic request, “Go sit back down.”
Shinsou’s face fell, and he frowned at him, not even hesitating, “I’m going to get Yamada.”
Before Shouta could even begin to formulate a response to that, Shinsou was turning and leaving the classroom. Everything hurt, his entire body aching, but his instincts kicked in as soon as Shinsou unlatched the door, tearing him out of his chair as he jolted up, knees immediately buckling under him and nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. He only managed to hold himself up by gripping the desk with all the strength he had left, barking out an order that sounded far more desperate than he ever wanted to come across as.
“Stop!”
Shinsou did stop, but only for a moment, glancing back at him in the doorway, voice quiet, “Sorry, Sensei.”
Shouta couldn’t do anything to further, unable to even stand properly. Nineteen kids were watching him now, all with wide, huge eyes, and all Shouta could do was ease himself back into his chair, trying to scold them all for getting so easily distracted.
“Get back to work! You’re going to need all the time you can get if you want to pass this exam.”
He waited for them all the furiously obey, going back to writing or stressing out about the questions, and only then did Shouta dare to put his head back on his desk, slouching over and giving up on looking even remotely professional, staring at the door and waiting for the inevitable storm to come in the wake of a certain Yamada Hizashi.
“I wish you’d take better care of yourself.”
It was probably the thousandth time he’d heard it, and maybe the hundredth time he’d heard it today in the hour that Hizashi had known about what was going on. Shouta was sprawled on the couch at home, buried under a mess of blankets, a heating pad spread over his aching back. All he could do was groan at the words. Even if the pain had eased enough for him to be able to talk since coming home, Shouta really couldn’t say much to the same thing he’d heard many times before.
Hizashi gave him a hard look, holding out a variety of pills to him, Shouta hesitating in taking them. Hizashi glaring at him was enough to get him to do it, though, and Shouta pulled his arm out from his mess of blankets and took them from him, dumping them into his mouth and letting Hizashi press a glass of water against his lips to wash them down.
“Let me stay home with him.”
Shinsou also hadn’t let up with that since somehow managing to convince Hizashi to let him come home until the exam period was over. Shouta had put up a fight with that, too, but Hizashi had fairly easily given in, and there really wasn’t much Shouta could do about that when he couldn’t even stand up by himself.
“No,” Hizashi said, voice soft and sympathetic.
“Absolutely not,” Shouta added on, leaning his head back on the pillows and resting his hand against his forehead. He was propped up slightly, and Hizashi pressed the glass against his lips again, clearly trying to get him to drink more, but Shouta shut his mouth and shook his head until Hizashi drew away with a small disgruntled noise. He gave Shinsou a glance, seeing the boy sitting across from him, looking at him with what was undeniably worry. Shouta frowned, body aching as he tried to move a little to see the kid a little more, “You need to be in class, not fussing over me. I’m the adult here. You shouldn’t have even come home in the first place.”
“Shouta,” Hizashi scolded, voice stern. “He finished his exam. There was no reason to not let him come home for a bit. Leave it.”
“Fine,” Shouta conceded, if only because arguing about this was far more effort than it was worth, and Hizashi did have a point. Shouta was just irritated at everything around him, especially since he’d had to come home almost immediately after school started and had worried the people around him. Hizashi had convinced him to call off tonight, too, something that made guilt sit heavy in Shouta’s stomach, but somewhere, he knew it was for the best. He sunk down into his pile of blankets, staring at his small family from his place on the couch, and Hizashi’s gaze finally softened.
“You’ll be alright by yourself for a couple hours?” Hizashi asked him, reaching out and brushing his fingers through Shouta’s hair. “I’ll come check on your during lunch and my next free period and I’ll be home right after school, but will you be alright alone?”
“I’ll be fine,” He actually meant it this time. If Hizashi came back every couple hours and woke him up to take him to the bathroom or force him to eat or drink, he’d be fine. Hizashi had given him the pain medication Shouta was always reluctant to take, had helped him change into regular, loose clothes, and had set out jelly packets and ice for him to use if he needed it. Lying on the couch and riding this out usually worked, the medication helping to dull the pain and tire him out. He’d be alright, since he was in the best place possible for this right now.
“Sensei—” Shinsou started to say, worry clouding his tone.
“I really will be,” The sternness dropped from Shouta’s voice, and he found himself telling the kid the truth, rather than trying to hide it from him. It was for the best—as long as he could get Shinsou to stop worrying and focus on his studies for the rest of the day, he was willing to tell him anything. “This happens sometimes. I don’t know why. It just does. I’ll be fine here. I don’t have to move at all and I can just sleep it off. I’ll be here when you come home, even if I’m asleep.”
There was a pause, and Shinsou continued to stare at him, holding his gaze until Hizashi checked his watch and spoke in his place.
“Hitoshi, I need to get you back to class. Come on, we have to go. Shouta, I’ll see you later. Keep your phone on so I can check in on you and keep drinking to keep your strength up.”
Shouta nodded, sleepiness and exhaustion starting to nag at him, but Shinsou lingered, even as Hizashi beckoned him to follow him.
“Sensei, you may be the adult, but that doesn’t mean you have to handle this alone,” Shinsou didn’t look at him, staying for a moment more before following Hizashi. “Please take better care of yourself.”
With that, the front door closed, and along with the pain and exhaustion, Shouta felt the dull ache of guilt tugging at him.