Shota couldn't think of a word strong enough to describe how he was feeling after stepping off that plane. 'Exhausted' didn't quite fit. He was jetlagged, hungry, anxious, missing Toshinori, and not missing Toshinori all at once. His new boyfriend was always notoriously bad at answering texts, but Shota thought he'd at least talk to him a little more while he was gone. It was overwhelming to be stuck in a foriegn country with his English so bad he needed an interpreter. He managed to fulfill the mission's objectives without too much trouble, though the language barrier certainly caused a few awkward miscommunications along the way.

He felt petty to be pissed off at Toshinori. Shota was sure after he showered, ate, and slept, he wouldn't be bothered anymore.

Now, the only obstacle in his way was getting there.

It had been an eventful month. The faculty and students were moved into the UA dorms to comply with the school's new security protocol, and now Aizawa was both teacher and parent to a building full of rowdy teenagers. When he wasn't supervising their antics, he was preparing lesson plans, juggling his hero work as Eraserhead, and trying to adjust to dorm life. Living in the same building with the students was bad enough without being next door neighbors with Hizashi Yamada. Not to mention Toshinori's room was on the other end of the hall.

It was a complete 180 from the life he was used to, going home alone to an apartment with his cats Yin and Yang to keep him company. Now, every time he wanted to meet with Toshinori after hours, it was either a delicate dance around social conventions, or outright sneaking through the halls in the dead of night, putting his hero training to good use.

There was some part of it that was almost fun, evading detection and suspicion to meet his boyfriend in secret.

Right now, however, Shota was too tired to feel much of anything, excitement or otherwise. When he made it to the dorms, it was 2:34 AM. The students were asleep, his next-door-neighbors were (hopefully) asleep, and he found himself standing outside Toshinori's door and knocking without any semblance of secrecy.

Toshinori answered in mere seconds, his door creaking open. Shota saw his lanky arm waving him inside. He slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. Before he could speak, or let his eyes adjust to the dark, Toshinori snagged him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Shota buried his face beneath Toshinori's pectorals, the man far too tall to kiss, so he circled his arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze.

"Welcome home."

"Mm."

Toshinori released him, padding over to a small table, where a takeout box of hibachi waited with a pair of chopsticks and a tall glass of water. He gestured loosely, shy. "I bought you supper. I, uh. Didn't have time to make it myself. It's just takeout."

"Thanks." Shota joined him at the table in silence. He was ravenous. He hardly noticed Fearless, Toshinori's gray tabby, slink into the room to rub against the furniture. All he wanted to do was take a shower and sleep. He tucked into his dinner.

"Are you still planning on teaching tomorrow?" Toshinori asked where he sat in his recliner.

"Yes. Why?" Shota asked, looking up from his takeout box. In the dim light, he noticed that Toshinori looked a little pale, sitting stiffly in his chair.

"I'm worried you're pushing yourself too hard. You should take another day to recuperate. I'd be happy to substitute for your class."

Shota took another bite of chicken and rice and said around a full mouth, "I pull all-nighters all the time. It's fine. Won't be any different from me coming back to school after night shift."

Toshinori looked like he was about to argue, but he coughed instead. It didn't sound like his usual coughing fit. He was holding back, breathing shallowly, the sound more air than liquid.

Shota pursed his lips. "Are you sick?"

"Hm? Oh. No, I'm fine."

Shota stared at him skeptically. Toshinori just smiled, not too wide, but still forced. Shota couldn't tell if he was bullshitting him or not, and he was too tired to play these mind games. He finished his dinner, cleaning out the takeout box and leaving nothing for leftovers. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness in Toshinori's apartment, he noticed that it was a mess.

The teacher's apartments were a little more spacious than the student dorms, but it was still a single room layout, the only door leading to a tiny bathroom. There was a kitchenette in one corner, a bed in the other, and chaos all in-between. The floor was still strewn with moving boxes, half unpacked. Most of the kitchen was still on the floor. Most of the laundry was still on his bed. Most of his books hadn't yet found their way out of boxes and onto the barren shelf.

Had he really not bothered to do anything while Shota was gone? He couldn't even find time to cook anything. The bitter taste of annoyance bubbled in his throat. Shota swallowed his words, knowing it was exhaustion getting the better of him, and pushed himself upright.

"I'm going to use your shower."

"Sure. Are you staying the night?"

"Yep."

"Let me get you a clean towel. Uh, do you want to wear my clothes?"

"That's fine."

Toshinori moved to his bed, unceremoniously shoving all the half-folded clothes onto the floor. He pawed through the pile until he found something dark and comfortable- a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He tugged a towel free of the heap of clothes before tossing the selection over to Shota, who snatched them out of the air and dragged himself into the bathroom. The air smelled strongly of a litter box far overdue for a cleaning. His eyes drifted to the offending bin on the floor, clumps of cat waste stacked high.

He locked himself inside, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes were darkened, more bloodshot than normal, stinging like hell when he blinked. His hair was a birds nest. He couldn't seem to force his face to do anything pleasant, his lips drawing themselves down in a scowl.

He stripped, used the toilet, and turned on the shower. The water was too cold, and it was taking its sweet time warming up. Shota endured it, using a squirt of Toshinori's shampoo in his hair. He realized that the bottle was almost empty, and its contents watered down to the point of uselessness. He groaned, thunking his head against the porcelain wall.

After he toweled himself dry, he dressed himself in Toshinori's clothes and returned to the apartment proper, where he found Toshinori already in bed, curled on his right side and facing the wall. The bed was a single, far too small for a 7-foot-tall beanpole and his muscular boyfriend, but Shota could deal with it. He slipped into the bed under the covers, turning onto his side, facing Toshinori's back. It was a bit of a tight squeeze.

He draped an arm over Toshinori's chest, his hand brushing beneath his ribcage. Toshinori flinched and drew in a sharp breath between his teeth. Shota jerked his arm away as if touching a hot stove.

"Sorry." Toshinori muttered against his pillow. "It's… been tender."

Shota watched his back, at the prominent bumps in his skeletal spine, his gaze softening. "Bad pain day?"

"Yeah."

"Did you take your meds?"

"Yeah."

Shota felt worried and frustrated all at once. Angry at himself for being frustrated. Helpless that he couldn't take his pain away. Exhausted, because all he wanted to do was sleep. It was hard to lie on his side with his arms pinned down, but if he turned on his back, there was barely enough room without feeling like he was going to fall off the edge of the bed.

So, he remained on his side, arm resting against his own chest, and closed his eyes. His mind refused to slow down, spinning into all his worries and fears, the unknown future threatening him with visions of doom. As his brain drifted into the uncomfortable fog of half-sleep, he heard Toshinori stifling coughs into his hand.

Shota ignored it- usually his coughing fits stopped when he fell asleep- and tried to relax. But Toshinori wouldn't stop coughing. Every ten minutes he was heaving and wheezing all over again, shaking the mattress with his jumping breaths. Shota groaned, turning onto his back, pressing his hands to his face.

"Sorry. Sorry." Toshinori muttered, sitting upright, the blankets falling from his chest. He pushed himself up and out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Shota asked tiredly, watching his retreating back.

"I'm going to sleep in my chair. I'm sorry."

Shota started to argue, to tell Toshinori to stop saying sorry. He realized he couldn't. He wanted to sleep. And sometimes Toshinori slept better when he was propped up in his chair. With the bed freed for him, Shota moved to the center, stole Toshinori's warm pillow, and closed his eyes.

He felt miserable. This reunion didn't go at all how he had hoped. He selfishly wanted to come to a candlelit dinner in a clean, put-together home and fall asleep in Toshinori's arms. Instead, it was clear to him that Toshinori had been far too busy to think about him much while he was gone- much less himself. His scar was probably hurting him because he was overworked, and Shota had a sneaking suspicion that he had let himself go while he was away, and it had only been a few days.

Am I his boyfriend or his life support system? Do I have a problem with being that? Going into this, I knew he'd be high-maintenance. I knew I'd be someone he'd rely on to keep him held together. But he's coming apart at the seams. It's exhausting.

He fell asleep, upset with his angry thoughts.

At 6:00, Shota woke early, finding Toshinori still asleep in his recliner, Fearless curled in his lap. Shota re-dressed in his old clothes, scooped Fearless's litter box, snuck out the door, and entered his own apartment to see if Hizashi had done his job taking care of his own cats, Yin and Yang.

The two long-haired kitties loudly greeted him at the door, begging for food. But he found their litter boxes nearly pristine. He fed them, spent a little time brushing and petting them, and by the time 7:00 rolled around, Shota scraped together his lesson plans, grabbed a cup of black coffee, and headed out into the common room to find half his class going through their morning routine with tired, sticky eyes and sleepy greetings.

"Welcome back, Mr. Aizawa," said Iida over a bowl of cereal. He always managed to seem energetic, even at the crack of dawn.

Aizawa just waved, slipping into the common room kitchen to find his stash of nutrition pouches.

"How was your trip to the USA?" Asked Uraraka from the couch, where she was bent over a textbook with Mina and Asui.

"Fine." Shota responded. He didn't really feel like divulging the details, or pretending that he had a good time. His students were accustomed to his glowing enthusiasm, because they stopped asking him questions and continued busying about their morning while pretending he didn't exist.

Shota returned to routine, meeting with Class 1-A proper at 8:00 as he always did. The classroom was just as he left it. All things considered, he hadn't been gone long. Hizashi only had to substitute for him on Friday, and according to the students, it went well. (He would, of course, prefer not to trust an English teacher to hero training. Present Mic was a formidable hero in his own right, but a heroics teacher, he was not.)

"Alright, class. Let's kick things off by going over this week's schedule." Shota announced from the podium, glancing through his sparse notes. "Mic tells me that a handful of you are still struggling with your ultimate moves. We're heading down to the gym to get in some more training this afternoon, and more on Tuesday. However, I'd like to address an opportunity that the Pussycats have extended to us regarding environmental rescue training. Because summer camp didn't go as planned, they wanted to make amends to UA first-years. It's an elective course, taking place over Wednesday and Thursday near Mt. Fuji. You're not required to participate, but I highly recommend it."

The students babbled a mixture of excitement and disappointment, and Shota heard some of them express that they'd be unable to attend it, given prior commitments.

"Whoever decides to go, just fill out this participation form and turn it in by the end of class." Shota passed a stack of papers to Aoyama, who was seated up front.

Kirishima raised his hand, and Shota pointed at him. "Mr. Aizawa, what sorts of stuff will we be learning on this trip?"

"Due to the variety of attacks that have interrupted your rescue training courses, we believed it was necessary to host this elective course for those of you who feel you're struggling to memorize practical information. You lack hands-on, real-world application. You'll be learning how to rescue people who are stranded in remote and hostile environments. You'll need to manage your own wellbeing and resources while minimizing the amount of time the victim stays stranded. We'll be near the northern forests surrounding Mt. Fuji, in a few acres of privately owned land. Some of the hazards you'll be facing are specifically designed by the Pussycats and other local heroes to test your abilities. It'll be cold, despite it being early autumn. So dress warm. Besides that, you're expected to only bring along what you think you'll need for a rescue operation. That's part of the test."

"Are we going to be in danger? From villain attacks?" Asked Hagakure.

"Pro heroes will be stationed around the perimeter, as well as directly supervising you. For example, I'll be with you, as well as Mic and All Might. The risk of a villain attack is a constant, regardless of where we are or what we're doing. However, we're confident that proper security measures have been taken to ensure everyone's safety. We can't allow that risk to jeopardize your progress. You must always remind yourselves that you're the next generation of pro heroes. You need to be prepared for anything."

"All Might is going?" Midoriya asked shyly.

"Yes. Why?"

"It's just…" Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck, green eyes shifting to the side as he bit his lower lip. "He's. With his retirement, and everything…"

Shota knew what he was getting at. Midoriya knew better than anyone how frail and sickly the former #1 Hero actually was. He was worried, a concern that Shota shared. "He's coming due to his field experience. He knows the ins-and-outs of rescue operations better than anyone, so he's going to be offering support and advice." Trust me, Midoriya, I tried to convince him to stay behind, but he wouldn't have it. Said it was his duty to be there, to put himself to use. He's probably still blaming himself for not being there when summer camp was attacked. He's going to get himself killed one of these days.

"Alright. Pack up, grab your hero gear, and meet up at the gym. You've kids have a lot of work to do."