Chapter Text
Katsuki has a strict policy of not being indebted to people.
Ultimately, it’s a way to keep himself in check; if he needs someone’s help, that means he’s not at the top of his game. A hero should be able to handle any challenge they face by themselves. If he owes someone a favor for his slip-up, then they could just use it to sabotage him further. It’s a standard he’s set for himself from a young age, to advance off the back of his own skill and capabilities, not because of the supposed goodwill of others. He has been and always will be better off by himself, and he’s not afraid to let people know that.
Despite this, he’s found himself in the position of leader of the idiot brigade. Idiots, because no matter how much he screams at them to leave him alone or explodes them to oblivion, they always end up right back beside him, stuck to him like overly cheerful and stupidly determined barnacles. And that’s not even including the rest of his class, who despite treating Deku as their little darling angel, seem to at least tolerate his belligerent attitude with the patience of saints. Every time he tells them to fuck off, they just roll their eyes with good-natured smiles, “that’s our Bakugou!”
Absolutely infuriating. Even more so when they think that just because he tolerates them he’ll suddenly lower his standards for himself.
Case in point, Sero buying the whole table drinks from the vending machine.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks gruffly, glaring down at the bottled drink and then to Sero, who is sorting through the rest of the beverages in his arms.
Sero leans over to look at the drink, setting the others down on the table. “Oh, that's strawberry-kiwi-infused water. Figured you'd prefer something simple over the sugary stuff.” He slides a green-milk tea concoction to Kaminari and a canned coffee to Ashido, and both cheer with gratitude.
Katsuki holds the drink up and shakes it angrily. “I don't take handouts, Tape Face!”
“Oh c'mon, Bakugou,” Kirishima says, elbowing him good-naturedly. “It's not a handout. Sero's just being nice. Thanks, man!” He takes the purple energy drink handed over to him with a smile.
Sero gives the table a thumbs up before turning back to Katsuki. “If you don't want it, you could have my orange juice?” He lightly shakes the orange bottle he'd gotten for himself. “Or if it's that big of a deal to you, you could just pay me back. Or just dump it in the bushes!” He holds his hands up and shrugs. “Seriously, up to you.”
Throwing the water away or dumping it is a waste, and Katsuki would rather not fork over the cash if it means nothing to Sero. That leaves only one option.
Without looking away from Sero, Katsuki opens the cap of the bottle and takes a swig. Kaminari and Ashido cheer again, louder this time. He nearly spits the water back into their faces out of spite, but not only is that fucking gross, but the water actually tastes pretty good.
Lunch is mostly uneventful after that. Kaminari and Sero get into an intense discussion over a manga they're reading, something about the true identity of one of the villains. Kirishima gets dragged into it to give an outsider's opinion, and Ashido interrupts conversation often enough with a meme or cute video on her phone that Katsuki is left alone for the most part.
And he can admit, it's kind of nice. That they actually like him enough to just have him around without expecting him to say anything. And that even if they did, they wouldn't care how rude he was. They've found something they liked past his prickly exterior and have decided to keep him around.
He'll never understand how they put up with him.
Eventually, the passing bell rings, and the cafeteria begins to empty. Katsuki and his table stand and deposit their dishes and trays and throw out the rest of their trash. Kirishima makes an exaggerated wind up with his arm and slam-dunks his empty energy drink into the recycling bin, punctuated with an explosion sound with his mouth.
As the rest of them are tossing their empty drinks, Katsuki realizes he doesn't have his water. He turns his head and sure enough, he sees the half-empty bottle abandoned at their table.
“Uh oh, someone's a litterbug!” Ashido teases.
To avoid the temptation of exploding her face, Katsuki rolls his eyes and stomps back over to the table, throwing a gruff “don't wait for me” to his friends behind him. They laugh and make their way to the cafeteria exit as he goes to grab his drink.
To get back to the table, he has to take the long way around the cafeteria to avoid the crowd of students. By the time he gets close to his table, he sees two students are standing at it, sorting through their bags: a tall girl with long white hair and a shorter girl with red hair. His drink is on the farther side of the table, and they're standing in his way.
Frantically grasping at the last shred of his patience, he clears his throat. “Oi, move it.”
The taller girl startles and turns around. Upon meeting his glare, she gives him a confused look before shrugging. “Sorry,” she says, grabbing her bag. As she steps away from the table, she perks up and turns to the red-haired girl. “Oh, Akane, don't forget Kuroko's—”
“Yep!” The other girl says, grabbing something off the table and putting it into her bag. She and the taller girl walk to the far exit that leads to the general education departments, chatting excitedly about something Katsuki doesn't care about.
As soon as he can reach it, Katsuki snatches his drink from the table and turns around. The cafeteria has mostly cleared, so he has no trouble heading to his exit, seeing that Kirishima waited for him while the rest of his friends went on. He shakes off the arm Kirishima throws around him and only half listens to him ramble, unscrewing the cap of his drink and taking a sip.
He stutters to a halt and nearly gags.
“Whoa! You good?” Kirishima exclaims.
Katsuki can’t even be upset about the water he’s spilled on his shirt. The taste is unbearable, like toxic sewer water, which he, unfortunately, can accurately compare it to. What he hadn’t spit out on reflex, he can feel coating his tongue like slime, filling his nose with the stench, limbs restricted, hands too wet to spark, can’t breathe—
He shudders and swallows his fear and the water still in his mouth, taking a gulp of air that leads into a cough. “What the fuck?” he chokes, holding the bottle away from him in disgust.
“Dude, what’s wrong?” Kirishima asks worriedly.
“Tastes like fucking swamp water,” he bites out, gratefully shaking his hands out as Kirishima takes the bottle with confusion and concern. He’s fine. It was just some nasty-ass water.
Kirishima inspects the water, sniffing it a few times before taking a cautious sip. He swishes the water in his mouth for a few moments before swallowing easily and smacking lips.
“Tastes fine to me.” He offers, handing the drink back to Katsuki. After a few encouraging nods, Katsuki hesitantly takes another sip.
Cool and subtly sweet. Just like it was at lunch.
Kirishima gives him a playful shove that gets them both walking again. “You sure it wasn’t just your flavors mixing up all gross in your mouth? Can’t imagine strawberry and chili powder are a good mix!”
Katsuki secures the cap on his bottle before knocking Kirishima on the head with it. “Don’t know why you’re laughing, Broom-Head, since we’ve got a quiz in a few minutes.”
Kirishima just laughs louder. “I’m not too worried! You really helped me out with this chapter. I’m sure I’m gonna ace it!”
With the sour taste slowly disappearing from his mouth, Katsuki pokes Kirishima in the side with the bottle a final time. “You’d better, or I wasted my Monday evening for nothing.”
----
The quiz is easy. It's all problems they've done before, just with different numbers. It's a simple step-by-step process with each equation. Methodical work that Katsuki can do in his sleep.
The problem is, he can't focus.
It starts with a twinge in his stomach. It isn't painful, but it catches him off guard and causes a full-body jolt, making him slash his pencil across the page. The noise draws the attention of the entire class, everyone looking up from their desks to stare at him. He masks the odd movement by scribbling over part of his equation as if he was crossing something out, and the rest of the class goes back to their tests. Taking a deep, measured breath, he flexes his wrist and starts to rewrite the equation, waiting for the discomfort to subside.
It does, but only barely. The tightness starts to go away, but in its place, he feels something uncomfortably warm, like someone had thrown a hot towel onto his stomach. He takes another measured breath, resting his chin against one hand and glaring down at his paper while his other hand sneaks down to feel his left side.
He can't feel anything wrong through his shirt—no heat or strange pulsing from his organs. Which is good, but also a ridiculous thing to be searching for. He probably just pulled a muscle, judging by the tender feeling he gets as he massages under his ribs. It was just a weird involuntary flex. And even if it does turn into a stomach ache, it's nothing he can't handle.
He does his best to forget about the discomfort and focus on his quiz. He completes the last few questions and stands from his desk carefully to avoid upsetting anything else. When he feels no other pain, he walks to turn in his quiz. Stretching and moving around helps him feel more alert, and the tight feeling in his abdomen starts to go away.
He breathes in deeply, because he can, and turns to look over the classroom to see how many people he beat.
To his horror, most of the class is sitting quietly at their desks, quizzes already handed in. Kaminari is the only member of his idiot friends who still has a paper in front of him, and to his credit, he seems to be fairly calm and confident as he continues working. Tokoyami is tracing a finger down the page, eyes moving back and forth as he checks his answers. Ojiro's tail flicks as his pencil suddenly moves at a rapid pace.
As Katsuki sits back down, he sees that Jirou seems to be the one having the most trouble. Her knee is bouncing under her chair as she squints down at her paper. Pressing her lips into a frustrated line, she wraps her hand around her left jack and brings her fist to her mouth, hunching her shoulders and circling her answer before moving on.
With a frustrated huff, he presses his fingers into his left side, suppressing a flinch as a sharp pain shoots through his body. He needs to get his shit together. A math test is one thing, but he can't afford to be crippled during training. The rest of the world won't stop for a little stomach ache, so neither will he.
----
Changing into his suit is a much more difficult task than he'd like to admit. The small, uncomfortable ache he’d been feeling has evolved into a dull throb that makes his limbs feel heavy every time he moves. Bending over to strap his boots is too uncomfortable, so he has to put his feet onto the bench one at a time.
The loud voices echoing through the locker room are making his ears ring, and the back of his neck feels too clammy for before training has even started.
That's right. Training hasn't started. He still has an opportunity to ask to sit out.
He huffs and stomps his foot back to the ground with irritation. No way in hell is he gonna roll over before things even get started. Heroes don't take sick days if they aren't already on the bench. He'll be fine. Once he gets on the field, it'll be mind over matter. Plus ultra and all that.
Just before he slams his locker closed, he picks up his water and takes a drink. The cool and sweet taste is refreshing, and it clears away the foggy feeling in his head. He resists the temptation to drink anymore, not wanting to get a cramp during training on top of everything else.
He's one of the last out of the locker room, but if anyone notices they don't comment. He takes the first available seat on the bus, next to Tokoyami, leans his head back, and shuts his eyes. The burning ache in his stomach grows stronger, and he finds himself hugging one of his bulky gauntlets. The added pressure hurts a bit, but at the same time, there's something grounding about it. It keeps him aware of the sound of his obnoxious classmates rather than the blood pumping in his ears and makes the sunlight coming from the window just a little bit more bearable through his eyelids.
He's just saving his energy so he can go all out during training. He's not at one hundred percent right now, but he can make up for it with a flawless performance today. Then he can let himself crash and sleep this off.
Apparently, he wasn't as grounded as he'd thought, as he's brought out of his daze by something cold pressing into his cheek.
His eyes fly open, and he's met with glowing yellow eyes barely an inch from his face. Dark Shadow retracts and winds itself around Tokoyami, peeking over his shoulder with a curious sounding coo. Tokoyami spares the creature a glance before meeting Katsuki's glare.
“We've arrived,” he states.
Katsuki listens behind him for the sound of his class and hears nothing. Peering behind Tokoyami, he can see Shouji standing outside the bus, talking to someone next to him. One hand stretches out and forms an eye that swivels around before landing on Katsuki. It blinks once and then retracts.
Katsuki grumbles and reluctantly eases the gauntlet away from his stomach. The relief from the added pressure is almost immediately dwarfed by a wave of nausea. He braces himself and stands from his seat, determinedly walking down the aisle of the empty bus. Each step down the bus stairs is a knife to his side, but he marches on without wavering.
Tokoyami trails behind him and goes to stand next to Shouji and Jirou. She stares at him while he stalks off, squinting and toying with one of her jacks before looking away with a pinched expression. Dark Shadow springs out and starts babbling directly into Shouji's face, but falls back at Tokoyami's insistent hand.
With anyone else, he'd be pissed, but Tokoyami and Shouji don't gossip, despite having some of the best powers equipped for it. As horrible as it is to be seen as weak by anyone, there are worse people to have witnessed it.
Speaking of, Ashido skips over with a playful grin. “Have a good nap?” She teases, giggling as he ducks his head away from her hands reaching to play with his hair.
“I mean, we knew you were an old man already, but sleeping during the day just makes it worse, you know?” Kaminari says as he sidles up to Ashido. She snorts again and covers her face.
“Make sure Aizawa-sensei doesn't hear you. You calling him an old man too?” Sero chimes in. Kaminari pales and sputters a bit, and the rest of the group laughs even louder.
The noise is grating on a good day, but Katsuki can't afford to be distracted by anything else. He walks away from them to enter Ground Beta.
One more class. He'll be fine.
----
Team exercise. Ground Beta is divided into two sections. Two groups of five are deployed and must perform rescues to three different areas in their section. The teams compete against each other for scores on proper execution as well as a twenty-minute timer.
This is the information that Katsuki clings to, even with the fog hanging over his head. He doesn’t particularly care for who’s on his team, since he’s more focused on pulling his own weight than policing them right now. As frustrating as it is, he has no ground to stand on leading them if he can barely keep his thoughts in order, so for once he’s happy to have someone else point and tell him where to shoot.
He follows the sound of his name being called, distantly recognizing the shape of the boots walking in front of him and that they’re headed to the northwest corner. If the teams are mirroring each other, then the other team would be in the... southeast? Or are the teams meant to overlap with each other? Shit, is there a combat aspect to the exercise he totally missed?
The movement around him stops, so he stops as well, trying to get his bearings. A pale blue flash temporarily blinds him, whiting out his thoughts and sending his stomach into a nauseating roll.
“I feel like this is a good position for us to form a hub area,” Iida says, pointing to the hologram Todoroki holds out in front of him. “Right on one of the main streets, and it’s a wide enough area that emergency services would be easily able to set up stations and accommodate civilians.”
“What about evacuation?” Asui prompts. She moves her finger from her chin to point to a spot right under Iida’s hand. “If villains locate this area, or one of the buildings here becomes unsafe, we’d have to deal with this big intersection.”
“I could wall it off?” Todoroki offers.
“Hmm, hold that thought,” Iida waves, leaning in closer to the hologram. “That could cut off a potential exit. Even with the risk of throwing traffic into chaos, it’s one of our best options to move large groups. Perhaps we should...” he trails off, squinting and bringing a hand to his chin in deep thought.
Katsuki stares at the map, trying to think of potential areas that could be targeted by villains or subject to disaster. The bank four blocks away is an obvious choice, but the trade center might be a target as well. There’s a chance there could be something outside of either team’s official zone that they might be called to deal with, so maybe he should spend less time looking for targets and more time studying the streets themselves.
“Yo, Bakugou.”
He blinks, focusing his eyes once again and turning to look at Jirou. She's curling one of her jacks on her finger, face pinched in the same odd expression she had during class. Behind her, Asui looks over to them curiously. Even Todoroki flicks his eyes away from the map to eavesdrop.
Shivering under the unwanted attention, Katsuki tucks his chin into the high collar of his suit. “What, Ears?”
She doesn't bother to correct him, which is a bit of a surprise. She's one of the few people that hasn't given up on trying to get him to say her real name. Her eyes flick over his face, and then down his torso before looking him in the eye again. “You feeling okay?”
At her question, Asui and Todoroki completely abandon the idea of subtlety, turning and looking him up and down as if trying to see what Jirou is asking about. His stomach twists again, and Jirou looks to his abdomen as her frown deepens.
The pieces finally click together in his head; she can hear his stomach. So that's why she's been so weird today. Fucking gross, and an invasion of privacy if he's looking for something to get pissed about, but she probably can't help it. Still, he’s not going to let a stomach bug keep him from doing his job.
“How about you keep your fucking ears plugged into someone else’s shit? Get off my ass and stop snooping into other people’s business, you creep,” he snarls.
Jirou jumps back, eyes going wide as the rest of his team startles at his outburst. Asui lets out a surprised “ribbit” and Todoroki's inquisitive look turns into a cold glare.
Katsuki takes a startled step back, mouth snapping closed with a click.
That... is not what he meant to say. At all.
What the fuck?
“Bakugou!” Iida exclaims, taking the hologram out of Todoroki’s hand and shutting it down. He marches over to Katsuki and raises his hands to gesture wildly. “That is no way to address a classmate! Especially after they express concern for you!”
Iida is going on about respect and courtesy, and while Katsuki would usually brush him off with an insult simply out of spite, and especially out of irritation today, this time he hesitates. There's a sour taste coating his tongue, like spoiled milk, and he can feel an alarming pressure building in his stomach.
Something is very wrong.
He swats away one of Iida's flailing arms, ignoring the taller boy’s indignant squawk, and takes another step back. “Bakugou, are you even listening—”
“Guys, he’s gonna—!” Jirou cries out.
Something rotten burns inside his nose, and his vision blurs as he hunches over. Something hot and slimy rushes past his mouth, forcing his eyes closed as his body seizes up. His legs shake from the force of it, and he feels a large hand wrap around his arm while another is placed securely on his back.
“Bakugou, can you hear me?” Iida demands, lecture completely forgotten.
Instinct says he should shove Iida away and tell him to get the fuck off, but the part of his brain still screaming that something is very wrong forces him to swallow and keep his mouth shut. He opens his bleary eyes and sees the lumpy black splash on the ground.
Dark vomit could be a symptom of internal bleeding, a quiet voice that sounds suspiciously like Aizawa-sensei informs him.
Oh shit, his own voice thinks back.
His stomach seizes, and a foul-smelling black liquid spews past his lips again. He coughs out the last few spurts and tips to the side, Iida catching him and guiding him to the ground.
“Help me take his gauntlets off!” Iida orders, holding Katsuki’s right arm up and rolling him onto his side. He hears feet scuffling all around him, and Iida’s hand moves to fumble with his neck brace while someone else takes a hold of his gauntlet and presses the release latch on the inside of his wrist.
“I knew something was up with him, I should have said something,” Jirou says through gritted teeth. She grunts and Katsuki feels his gauntlet slip off with a strong tug. She catches his limp wrist and sets it down by his waist before grabbing the arm underneath him to take the other one off. “Todoroki, do you have any medicine that would help?”
“I don’t know. Painkillers might make him sicker, and I don’t want to risk that.”
“Vomit shouldn’t look like that—it’s too solid. He wasn’t struck by anything, was he?” Iida asks as he unclasps the collar of Katsuki’s suit and gently feels for Katsuki’s racing pulse. The pressure against his neck makes him gulp and thrash away with a weak grunt, but Iida stills him by firmly grasping his shoulders. “We—I need to tell the teachers. This isn’t natural, and this isn’t something we can handle by ourselves.”
“Are we sure it’s not part of the exercise?” Asui asks worriedly.
“I’d rather risk failing the exercise than my classmate’s life!” Iida declares, letting go of Katsuki and standing up. “Asui, make sure his airway stays clear and help him if he starts vomiting again. Jirou, keep watch of his vitals and report to me through the comms if he starts to drop. Todoroki, keep his legs elevated and check if you have anything that can help him. I’ll be back as fast as I can!” With a rev of his engines, he shoots off down the street just as the horn for the exercise to begin rings out.
Everything is moving too fast. Katsuki pants harshly as another wave of nausea crashes over him. The awful taste returns as more bile rushes past his lips, running down his cheek. He feels one of Asui’s large hands tilt his head to the side and a finger pushes past his lips to feel the inside of his mouth. He recoils and tries to spit it out, but she quickly pulls away and instead takes hold of his head. A hand pokes under his ribs, and he cries out as a white-hot pain shoots through his body.
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine,” Jirou reassures him, rubbing her hands up and down his arms. One of her jacks stretches out to wrap around his wrist while the other hovers close to his abdomen.
The extreme care they’re taking with him is having the opposite effect of keeping him calm. His classmates know he hates to be coddled, barely tolerates teasing. The last time he got hurt during an exercise, Deku and Todoroki let him keep his pride and walk on his injured leg with limited assistance. The fact that they’re being so gentle and reassuring with him right now is wrong, and it only increases his anxiety.
Oh god, Katsuki might actually be dying.
The back of his knees and calves are suddenly freezing cold. He groans as his legs are elevated and tries to squirm away, but Asui and Jirou press down on his shoulders and hips to keep him still. A firm hand wraps around his left ankle and moves it back onto the ice block. A moment later, Todoroki's grip is replaced with a ring of ice around his ankle.
“Bakugou, you need to stay still,” he says, reaching over and securing Bakugou's other leg to the ice block. “We're treating you for internal bleeding. Iida's gone to get Aizawa-sensei. You’re going to be alright, just stay calm and let us help you.”
Katsuki feels a shiver wrack his body, and his mouth opens without thinking. “Help from you?” he barks with a spray of black bile. “As if you give a damn about anyone but yourself. Your dad beats the shit out of you and you pay it forward by stepping all over everyone else on your fucking high horse.”
Holy shit, what?
Todoroki’s head snaps to look Katsuki in the face. His jaw falls open, eyes going wide before his face twists in fury. “What the hell are you—”
Still reeling from his first comment, Katsuki is unable to stop the next thing that comes out of his mouth. “What? Like you think you’re actually a good person? Like there’s anything heroic about you? Or that your ice is any better? Why don’t you use it for what it’s meant for? Give me a scar so we can match.”
Jirou lets out a horrified gasp and Asui’s hands flinch away from him like he’s burned her. Todoroki’s face goes completely slack in disbelief as he completely freezes up. A small flame licks the side of his face before his jaw clenches, glaring at Katsuki with eyes full of hurt and betrayal.
“Shit, I didn't—” Katsuki gasps. He feels his stomach lurch and turns his head away, forehead digging into the cold concrete. “I didn't—fuck—” He chokes, a torrent of black liquid rushing past his mouth. Asui’s hands are back on his head, and he’s too mortified and woozy to fight against her this time. He gags weakly when she pokes the back of his throat, but keeps his eyes closed and head ducked away as much as he can.
What the fuck was that? Why the hell did he say that? He may think Todoroki is an idiot and a dick sometimes, but even at his angriest he wouldn’t go dragging Todoroki’s personal shit into things. Katsuki doesn’t care about his family drama, it’s none of his business, so why did he say that? Why couldn’t he stop himself?
Another loud horn rings out—training has stopped?—and a hand is placed on his heaving chest. “Bakugou,” Asui says in a quiet but firm croak. “You’re starting to hyperventilate, and that’s only going to make things worse. Just take deep breaths.”
“Don’t act like you aren’t loving this, Asui,” he bites out. His blood runs cold and his stomach gives another painful jolt. He tries to stop himself, but the pain grows sharper and his whole body feels like it’s spinning. The dizzying feeling distracts him, and the moment of weakness gives his mouth an opportunity to run off. “You never wanted me around in the first place and felt guilty your first chance to get rid of me after camp didn’t work.”
“I—” she stammers. “I never wanted you to—I just didn’t want them to—”
“But now you can trick everyone into thinking you actually cared and get to watch me die, just like you wanted. You’re a selfish monster.”
“Shut up!” Jirou snaps, successfully breaking him out of the strange spell he’d found himself in. He moans and falls into another bout, his whole body trying to curl as he vomits. He feels something wet fall onto his cheek and tries to pull away from Asui. She stops him, gently cradling his head and angling his neck and chin with trembling fingers to keep him from choking. When he can finally breathe again, Asui swipes under his head to clear away some of the vomit before setting him down. She leans away from him and sniffles harshly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jirou shouts. “We’re trying to save your life, ungrateful asshole!”
He blinks his eyes open, looking past Jirou to see the black puddle spread out in front of him. He can still feel it dripping from his mouth, coating the back of his tongue and swishing around in his stomach. The stench is putrid, making it hard to breathe. Another shiver wracks his body, but the ice around his legs makes it hard to move much.
Wait.
Disgusting sludge. Inside of him. And right now he can’t…
Has that thing been inside of him this whole time?
He jerks, desperately trying to break free. The pain and nausea make him uncoordinated and easily subdued by his classmates, but he needs to get away from them. He’s not safe to be around, they’re in danger, he’s in danger, he’s gonna die, and that thing is gonna parade around with his body. He lets off a few sparks, just some small ones to scare them away, but they last barely a second before they fizzle out. Fuck. No. It’s got control of his quirk now. Shit. They have to get away from him. He tries to tell them, but he’s choking, he can’t move right, can’t think straight, can’t breathe—
There’s a cacophony of noise, louder than the blood roaring in his ears. There’s a flush of heat around his legs, and the unexpected sensation sends him into a further panic. He tries to squirm away from it, but then there are firm hands taking a hold of his head and angling it up.
“Bakugou. Look at me.”
His eyes snap open and the word slowly comes into focus. He can make out a red glow surrounded by a shadow, and the glint of metal off to the side.
“Breathe,” Aizawa-sensei orders.
Slowly, Katsuki takes a shaky but full breath. As he exhales, he starts to cough, and his teacher instructs him to breathe again. He does, and it comes a little easier.
After a few deep breaths, his teacher's hold of his face relaxes a bit. “You with me?”
Swallowing thickly, Katsuki nods. The haze of panic starts to fade away into something more manageable, something he can process and fight against. He still feels woozy and tingly, but it's better than suffocating.
Aizawa-sensei nods back and starts ordering his classmates around. Katsuki allows himself to drift for a bit, focusing on keeping his breathing even and the swirling feeling in his stomach from growing stronger. A pair of strong arms dig under his shoulders and a pair of hands grasp at his legs. With a lurch, they break him away from most of the ice and heave him off the ground. They lower him onto a stretcher and the med bots start wheeling him away with his teacher and classmates walking alongside him.
As Aizawa-sensei is questioning his team, Katsuki feels a hand brush against his arm. He peels his eyes open and looks up at Iida, who is frowning down at him regretfully.
“I'm sorry I had to leave,” he says solemnly. “It pained me to abandon my classmate, especially when you were in danger. But I went as fast as I could.”
“Not fast enough to save your brother,” he rasps, stomach lurching as a thick glob of sludge pushes itself past his throat.
Iida stumbles to a stop, the hand that had been resting on Katsuki's arm twitching into a weak fist. “I…” He breathes out, completely dumbstruck.
“Like that!” Jirou says, pointing to Iida as Asui takes his hand and tugs him along. “He keeps saying shit like that! He made Asui cry, and Todoroki...” she stops herself and turns back to their teacher. “Every time he does it, he vomits right after.”
Aizawa-sensei's frown deepens drastically, and he moves to walk right next to Katsuki. “Bakugou, did you feel sick before training?”
“So now you wanna do your job,” he murmurs, and grimaces as bile fills his mouth. He swallows it back down with a grown, the ice still clinging to his legs crunching as he shifts around in discomfort.
“I need you to answer me Bakugou, this is important. If not with words then show me one for yes, two for no.”
Curling his arms around his stomach, Katsuki holds his left hand up, pointing with one finger. Yes.
“Did you feel this way yesterday?”
No.
“Did you do anything differently today?”
No.
“Did you interact with anyone strange today?”
No.
“Are you in control of yourself?”
He hesitates and brings his hand to tap his mouth.
“Can you control your body?”
Yes. He taps his mouth again.
“Can you control your words?”
Katsuki extends two trembling fingers. No.
Aizawa-sensei sighs deeply, tugging at his hair. “Okay,” he reaches for his phone and starts scrolling through it. “Do you have any idea what might have caused this? If you don't think you can answer properly, then just wave.”
The swirling in his stomach is too familiar for him not to risk it. Taking a few bracing breathes, he very slowly opens his mouth and tries to forget everything but what he wants to say.
“Sludge… villain…” he croaks, and then shudders as a burning hot and sticky feeling seems to wash over his body. His stomach twists again, and he fights against the nausea to say his next words. “Before… Yuuei…”
“You think this is the work of the villain that attacked you in junior high?” Aizawa-sensei clarifies, fingers quickly tapping at his phone. He nods at Katsuki’s affirmative signal. “We're almost out of the training area. If this is the work of a villain, we'll do everything we can to keep you safe and apprehend them.”
“Cause you guys have such a great track record,” he whispers, not even bothering to push down the bubble of vomit that rises to his mouth.
If Aizawa-sensei is bothered by Katsuki's words, he doesn't show it.
There’s a steady murmuring in the distance, slowly getting louder as they get closer to the entrance of Ground Beta. Katsuki throws an arm over his eyes and turns on his other side, doing his best to hide from the scrutiny of his classmates. He hears the girls all jog over to Asui, fretting over her tears, and a few of the boys running to Iida to ask what happened.
“Aizawa!” All Might calls over the growing noise from the class. He quickly directs Yaoyorozu to organize them before jogging up to them. “Is everything alright?”
“I'm not sure,” Aizawa-sensei responds gravely. “Bakugou is in pain and uncontrollably vomiting, and seems to be unable to control his speech. I suspect a quirk is to blame.” There's a buzz of a phone, and a moment later he speaks in a suspicious tone. “Principal Nedzu has just asked me to bring Bakugou to his office rather than Recovery Girl's office.”
“You think he knows something?”
“If not, he's at least forming a plan,” he says. “Continue training with re-organized teams. The students on Bakugou's team are exempt for the rest of the day. When the other team gets back, tell them—”
He's interrupted by two distant shouts; an urgent “Sensei!” from Kirishima and a distressed “Kacchan!” from Deku. Their feet thunder on the pavement and skid to a halt as Yaoyorozu calls for the class to stay back.
Aizawa-sensei lets out a frustrated noise but continues “Tell them what happened and that it's being taken care of. Class isn't over, they still have work to do.”
“Right,” All Might affirms. Katsuki feels a bony hand brush his wrist and hesitantly pulls his arm from his face. All Might is leaning over him, his head blotting out the sun as if to take its place.
“I know you must be frustrated,” he says quietly. “But please don't be. Focus on recovering. You'll be alright.” He gives Katsuki a reassuring smile and a thumbs up.
Katsuki feels his stomach swoop and lets out a startled gag. He shudders as he feels the foul-tasting sludge coat his tongue, but swallows it down with a pained groan. It's bad enough his class is seeing him look so weak, but vomiting over All Might's shoes would be even more humiliating.
All Might startles back and hovers worriedly as Katsuki pants through the nausea. Through his fuzzy vision, he can see his teachers share a look.
“I'll get to the bottom of this,” Aizawa-sensei tells him. He sends All Might back to the class with a nod and turns to Katsuki's team still standing close by. “Todoroki,” he calls and waves his hand at Katsuki's left leg. “Melt the rest of your ice and then join your classmates.”
Todoroki stands there for a moment before stiltedly walking up to the stretcher. He places his left hand on the ice still coating Katsuki's shins, and it quickly melts away in a small cloud of steam. In the corner of his eye, Katsuki can see Todoroki looking at him. Katsuki can't bring himself to look back and continues staring up at the late afternoon sky.
As the steam clears, Todoroki turns and walks away from the stretcher, fists clenched. Katsuki allows himself an exhausted sigh.
“Go run back to mommy,” he mumbles.
There's a wall of noise that's quickly drowned out by Katsuki's whole body seizing up again. It's like his entire world becomes nothing but the feeling of his body turning itself inside out. His throat bobs around the thick stream of sludge, hot and sour in his mouth and spraying over the side of the stretcher.
When he finally comes back to the real world, gasping and heaving, he takes notice of the commotion happening around him:
Aizawa-sensei has moved to the other side of his stretcher, eyes glowing red and grasping at his scarf. Iida, Kirishima, and Deku are all crowding Todoroki, right side frosted over and teeth bared, his eyes shining in a wild rage. All Might stands between them and the rest of the students, holding his arms put either to shield them or prevent them from coming closer.
“Todoroki, stand down,” Aizawa-sensei orders, tugging at his scarf again.
Todoroki heaves a few deep breaths and slowly lets go of the tension in his body, turning away from Katsuki. Deku mumbles his name and reaches for his shoulder, but Todoroki throws him off and pulls himself out of Iida's grasp, storming off down the main street.
With a heavy sigh, Aizawa-sensei blinks and lets go of his scarf. “Alright, class dismissed,” he says tightly. He points to the exit, and the med bots continue to carry Katsuki off the training field.
As they load him into the med cart that will take them back to Yuuei quicker than the bots, Katsuki braves one last look at his class. Kirishima is speaking urgently with All Might, the rest of Katsuki's friends behind him listening with increasing distress. The girls are huddled around Asui, rubbing her back and comforting her as she continues to wipe at her teary face.
Deku briefly catches Iida and they both move to follow Todoroki. Deku stops short, turning as Iida marches off to take one last look back at Katsuki. They stare at each other, Deku with open concern and Katsuki too exhausted to do much else. After a long moment, Deku blinks and ducks his head, turning away and following after his friends.
Aizawa-sensei climbs into the cart and orders the bot controlling it to go. As they pull away from Ground Beta, his teacher leans against the edge of the cart and looks down at Katsuki tiredly.
“What am I going to do with you?” He asks defeatedly.
Katsuki turns on his side away from his teacher with a pained grunt.
Even if he could speak, he doesn't think he has an answer this time.