Shinsou dodged left, then right. As the metal cloth came dangerously close to his left side, he ducked and tumbled onto the hard ground. He jerked to somersault away but ended up falling lamely and rolling back up against a nearby tree. As he sunk deep into the grass, he groaned and placed a hand on the back of his head that had hit the ground.
"Shinsou." His teacher's upside-down form appeared in front of him. He seemed to be smiling… no, Shinsou was just on his back. Aizawa was frowning, though to be fair, Aizawa was always frowning.
"I'm sorry, Sensei," Shinsou sighed as he rolled over and sat up on his knees. Aizawa studied him for a moment before extending a hand, which Shinsou gladly took before being pulled up.
"You're doing alright. You seemed distracted at the end." At his student's defiant frown, Aizawa glanced up through the trees. The sun had set only moments before, though the last remnants of the day's light dimly lit the horizon and cast a soft deep blue glow over the park. "It's getting late anyway and it's cold. I think we're done here tonight. We'll pick up tomorrow."
"It's only eight-thirty," Shinsou argued. They usually trained until nine, sometimes later if they lost track of time. He hated the idea that his own failures were ending this session early. A sharply sucked in breath of air tickled his throat the wrong way and he began to cough. It didn't last long, but it was a harsh enough cough that Aizawa's usually uncaring eyes seemed to hold a hit of worry when Shinsou looked back at him.
"I think this is a good place to end," His teacher commented. "Go home, get some rest, and take care of that cough. You don't want it getting worse."
"It's nothing," Shinsou waved him off, swallowing thickly as he shoved the cough down his throat. Aizawa only hummed, a tell-tale sign that he didn't believe him but wasn't going to press it. Instead, he just turned and started walking towards the UA campus. Shinsou hesitated a moment, but when his teacher's phone started to ring and he stopped to answer it, he decided he needed to start on his way towards town.
Two evenings later, the pair were training in the park again, though Shinsou's movements seemed much slower. At the beginning of training, during the warmups, Shinsou was able to easily dodge, block, and reciprocate his teacher's attacks, but as they ramped up, he fell far behind. After only twenty minutes when they stopped for a break, Shinsou's chest was heaving and he coughed wetly to clear the congestion in his throat.
"Go home," Aizawa said, handing his student a bottle of water. Shinsou took it gratefully and chugged, but shook his head when he was done.
"No, I'm good. Sorry. Long day. Not a lot of sleep last night." He set the bottle on the grass by his backpack and resumed a fighting stance. Aizawa's frown deepened and before Shinsou had time to react, his teacher sent out his capture weapon and had the student completely tied up. Shinsou struggled and fell, his ankles bound by the strips.
"All the more reason to go home." Once on the ground, Shinsou was better able to step out of the weapon that had grabbed him and Aizawa retracted the rest. "I can't work with someone who isn't in good health. Go home, get some rest, and let me know when you're well."
"What about Monday?" Shinsou asked, dusting himself off as he tried to stand with some dignity.
"If you're feeling better by Monday, then we'll continue." With that, Aizawa bid his student goodbye for the night and left the park before Shinsou could say anything else.
Shinsou cursed under his breath, but the harsh air tickled his throat the wrong way and he began to cough again. It had definitely gotten worse, Shinsou thought to himself before he could block the idea from his mind. He was doing his best to distance himself from his reality, but the weather had only gotten colder and his condition worse since the cold had first developed.
Well, he figured, once the coughing had subsided, the park was as good a place as any to camp. His previous spot under an awning next to a subway station had begun to attract more people as the colder weather set in. Although he rationally realized that he was in the same boat as them, he still wanted to keep his distance. He had a lot to lose if he was found by law enforcement.
It had been a silly impulsive decision, and though he would have wanted more time to make more concrete plans, he was glad to be away. For as long as he could remember, he was in and out of different foster homes. Some were better than others, but lately, he'd been getting stuck with people who cared more about the weekly check from the government than they did about his well being. Shinsou didn't ask for nor need much, but his last home had been very dirty with little to eat and an air mattress on the floor for a bed. It was hard to place a teenager, nevermind a teenager with a Quirk like his. At some point between the ages of eleven and thirteen, he'd been marked "difficult" by a misguided caseworker and had never been able to get that label removed.
So, when his latest foster family decided to move far enough away that he'd have to change high schools, he figured it was the best opportunity to book it. It was a win-win. The family he'd been with could continue to claim him, at least until social services found out, and he could stay at UA. Of course, he hadn't had the foresight to consider the brutal end of winter chill, and he did his best not to think about what would happen when he was eventually caught.
But, he couldn't give up on his dream at UA. There wasn't a school like it. Sure, there were other hero schools, but he'd have to test into them all over again and getting into even the general studies course at UA had been tough enough. Not to mention, he'd have to work with other teachers which would mean giving up the mentorship he received from Aizawa. Never had he met a teacher, or any other adult for that matter, who seemed to just get him like Aizawa did.
Shinsou started walking around the perimeter of the park to scout out a place where he could sleep. After a few minutes, he decided on a covered picnic table towards the back of the field. It was all on its own, the other picnic tables scattered in other areas, as though whoever had built it had put it in the incorrect spot. It was private, though, without walls, there was little to protect him from the wind, but at least there was a roof in case it rained. He dug through his weathered bag to grab out the thin sleeping bag he had managed to cram in there and curled up under the picnic table to try and get some sleep.
Although Shinsou had no regular classes with Aizawa, something he hoped to change once he got the kid into the Hero Course where he belonged, he was still a first-year and so he shared the first year hall with the rest of the young students. Since his power and potential had been brought to his attention, he'd already been keeping an eye on Shinsou, but he started to watch him more closely after his homeroom teacher mentioned how exhausted he had seemed.
For the past month, Shinsou's health seemed to be on a steady decline, though it had made a small rebound in the last week only to drop off once more. This time, though, Shinsou not only experienced signs of exhaustion, but he also seemed to have developed a cold. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a little congestion and some coughing, but Aizawa noticed it was getting continually worse.
He'd thought about speaking to the kid about his health and whether or not things were okay, but he didn't want to come across as overbearing, especially if it was just a little cold. All of Shinsou's other teachers had commented on how distant he seemed, how difficult it was to get him to open up. Aizawa had never had that problem and he attributed it to a laid back nature that not many of the other teachers shared. He didn't want to ruin the trust he had built.
But, when Shinsou showed up to school the Monday after their latest training looking pale and more exhausted than usual, he knew he couldn't keep quiet any longer.
"Hey," Aizawa had to call out a few times. Some other students passing by looked up but continued on when they realized he wasn't looking back at them. It was only after a few attempts that Shinsou finally looked over. For a brief moment, the kid seemed to consider just walking on by, but he realized he wouldn't be able to do so while acting like he hadn't heard him.
"You look terrible," Aizawa commented once Shinsou had trudged across the hall.
"Gee, thanks," came the dry reply paired with a tired eye roll.
"Seriously, what are you doing here? Not only are you not in any condition to be at school, but you could also get others sick."
"I look worse than I feel," Shinsou replied with a shrug. "It's not contagious, just a headache."
"It doesn't sound like just a headache." The boy's voice sounded rougher than before like he had swallowed gravel.
"Well, it is," Shinsou snapped. Aizawa raised an eyebrow at Shinsou's tone, which came very close to being over the line harsh. The boy just stared right back, keeping his gaze level with his teachers until Aizawa finally sighed and shook his head.
"Missing a day of school isn't going to hurt your chances of getting into the Hero Course. Part of what we're looking for are students who can make rational, correct decisions. Pushing your body when you're unwell is not one of those decisions."
"Good to know," was all Shinsou could think to say after a moment. He shifted his backpack on his shoulder and turned to go. He half expected Aizawa to call after him, to chastise him for being rude. There was even a part of him that hoped he would, though that might have just been the part that didn't want to go to English class. But, he refused to look back and he didn't hear any other words from his teacher nor feel himself being followed.
As he walked away, Shinsou mentally kicked himself for how he responded to his teacher. The other students were right, he definitely was getting preferential treatment from Aizawa-sensei. There is no way that any other student could speak to him like that and get out of it without detention. He wasn't sure how he had managed it himself. Maybe he did look quite bad and Aizawa didn't want to further punish him.
Somehow, he managed to get through the rest of the day, though he deliberately avoided Aizawa by either taking the long way to classes or falling into step with large crowds of other students. He wasn't even sure if he was even seeking him out, but he didn't want to chance it. He couldn't face his mentor, not after that morning.
After the last bell, he quickly made his exit and decided to go back to the park he had been staying in. So far, the park with the picnic table under the little shelter had been good to him. It was almost always cleared out by nightfall, save for a straggling dog walker or two, and no one ever paid him much attention.
As he walked, he found himself wishing he could go back and apologize to Aizawa for their interaction that morning. He mostly wished he could tell his teacher what was going on, but he knew if any of this got out, that would spell the end of his time at UA. Aizawa was a wonderful teacher and he was glad to have found such a great mentor, but at the end of the day, he knew he was just a student. If he were not there, Aizawa would continue on teaching the students who were lucky enough to be there.
Lost in thought and dazed by his illness, Shinsou didn't realize he had approached the hill that dipped down into the valley where the park was. He placed one foot in front of the other, as he always did, but on one particular step, he didn't find solid ground meeting him. Rather, he placed his foot down into nothing but air and stumbled, tripping over himself and crashing down the hill. He didn't even have a chance to brace himself as he tumbled, flipping over once and skidding to a halt at the bottom of the hill.
For a moment, he just laid there, trying to figure out if that had actually happened. And, for that short moment, it was easy to imagine it hadn't. That is until searing pain crashed into him and he struggled to focus his thoughts on just one painful area so he could take stock of his injuries.
His head hurt, but that was already the case, the head cold having given him a throbbing headache that had gotten worse somewhere between third and fourth periods that day. It seemed even worse down and as he turned his head to the side, he felt a particularly sensitive area towards the back. His right arm was sore. There would definitely be a bruise. As he took a breath in, his chest caught and he felt a searing tightness that hadn't been there before. Gingerly, he brought his left hand up to feel around and he quickly determined that no ribs were broken, but judging by the pain he was sure some were bruised.
All in all, not the worst thing. That is until he decided to stand up. The moment he put weight on his left leg, he tumbled to the ground again, gasping for air when the sudden surge of pain knocked the wind out of him. Now on his knees, he could feel his now swollen left ankle pulsing, commanding his every thought. Heat surged around him despite the cold and flecks of black dotted his vision. Gritting his teeth, he tried to steady himself against the shallow curve of the hill so he could hobble onto his good leg. He would be damned if he passed out because of an ankle injury.
In the end, he would never be totally sure how he managed it, but he was somehow able to gather his backpack, which had landed next to him, and hop over to the shelter with the picnic table. He leaned back on the flat bench and placed his leg up on the table, trying to elevate it, though it did little to help. It was also an incredibly awkward position, him lying flat and horizontal to the table while also trying to keep his leg from sliding off.
Once he'd gotten comfortable; well, settled; he tried to steady his breathing. He could feel beads of sweat on his forehead, causing his front bangs to dampen and lay limp on his face. Temperature-wise, he felt very weird. Although he felt quite warm, the cold air bit at him like a thousand little bugs. He dug through his backpack and pulled the sleeping bag over him like a blanket, not bothering to get under it for fear of aggravating his ankle further.
At some point, he managed to doze off but was rudely awakened by the slow dripping of water. The moment he was able to sense it, his eyes shot open, only for a droplet to fall right into his left eye. He blinked hard, the water slipping out of his eye like a foreign tear and he glanced up at an angle to prevent the same thing from happening. As it turned out, the picnic shelter could only really shelter from the absolute downpour that was happening outside. However, the roof wasn't sturdy enough to stop all water, and the dripping continued at a constant pace.
There was nothing he could do about that. He couldn't move somewhere else because of his ankle and he certainly couldn't fix the roof. Shivering, Shinsou pulled the sleeping bag up further so that it barely covered his legs at all, yet would still protect his face from the rain. He dozed but did not sleep.
Across town, Aizawa adjusted his capture weapon and pulled his goggles over his eyes. Midnight had suddenly found a date that night and couldn't cancel for her patrol, so she'd called Aizawa who she knew wouldn't turn her down since he had nothing else to do. He didn't mind. She would pick up some extra slack at work to make up for it, and Aizawa truly didn't mind wandering around the streets at night.
The only downside to this night, Aizawa thought, was that it was a little chillier than normal and, of course, raining. A cold front had come in early that week and they were just getting past the worst of it. It appeared to be the last death rattle of winter and spring would be around the corner soon. Still, he only wore his usual black sweats and long black sweatshirt, though this sweatshirt had a hood to protect his head from the rain.
One thing that Aizawa always noticed about colder weather was that crime seemed to go down. It just wasn't nice enough outside for people to cause trouble. He ended up finding a wet red-nosed vandal near the police station and sent the kid on his way, but other than that, the night was quite calm. Nine passed, then ten, and then eleven. A few more hours of patrol and until then, Aizawa would enjoy the quietness of the city about to fall asleep.
Another call went out around eleven-thirty that led him closer to the UA campus. It turned out to be a domestic dispute-he never got the details-that a cop had accidentally called into the Hero database. The poor man had looked so embarrassed when Aizawa showed up, capture weapon in hand and ready to assist. Aizawa still offered to help out, but the cop insisted he go on his way, likely to avoid further embarrassment at a colleague showing up and seeing a Pro Hero at the ready.
So, Aizawa walked down the sidewalk that led to the little park by campus on his way back towards the center of town. He hunched his back against the rain and the cold, angling his line of sight just a bit in front of him. As he walked along the upper path and watched the sidewalk cracks pass him, he soon came across a turned up patch of dirt leading to a strip of flattened grass that led down the hill.
That got his attention. And it being a slow night, he figured he might as well see where this trail led. So, he followed it down the hill, carefully bracing his back leg against the slope so as to not trip and fall. There was a larger area of grass that had been flattened, and in some areas turned up completely, then a little wobbly trail that Aizawa noticed led straight to a little picnic table near the back of the park.
Even in the dark and from that distance, he could see something on the bench of the picnic table, running the entire length of it, plus something small on the table itself at the end furthest from him.
Cautiously, he walked over, the rain masking his already quiet approach. He couldn't be sure if what he saw was a thing or a person, or both, and he had no idea if it was dangerous. Once he stepped onto the concrete floor of the shelter, he was sure the thing on the bench was a body. Now, he just had to see if it was breathing.
He reached out to grab the covering, a cool black sleeping bag, slick from the rain and was met immediately with a hand grabbing his wrist and the crying out of a familiar voice. His eyes darted over to meet dark violet and he jumped back in surprise.
"Shinsou?" he asked, completely caught off guard. He would have been less surprised to find a bomb or a villain. He never expected to see his student.
The boy, who had been startled awake, was now coughing as he grabbed at the leg that had fallen from the top of the table due to the sudden movement. Aizawa crouched next to him and firmly rubbed his upper back, trying to assist with the coughing spell. It took a bit, but it soon subsided and Shinsou looked wearily into his teacher's eyes.
"Aizawa-sensei?" he asked, his voice rough like sandpaper. "What are you doing here?"
Had the situation not seemed so dire, and Shinsou not so cold to the couch, the teacher might have laughed. Instead, he just frowned and replied, "I could ask you the same thing. In fact, I will. What in the world are you doing here, Shinsou, at this time of night?" He didn't like how stern he sounded, given the state Shinsou seemed to be in.
"Trying to sleep," the boy replied with an oddly lopsided smile, not seeming to notice the scolding tone in his teacher's voice. Aizawa looked him in the eye but found Shinsou wouldn't, or couldn't, meet his gaze.
"What's wrong with your leg?" Aizawa asked, not having missed the way he sat, trying to keep anything from touching it.
"'s the ankle. I fell." Well, that explained the trail of dead grass.
"Alright, come on then." This made Shinsou's head jerk up, a move he clearly regretted judging by the grimace that scrunched up his face.
"What?" he asked after a moment to calm the throbbing in his head.
"Well you're obviously not staying here," Aizawa reasoned. "It's freezing, you're hurt, and," he placed a hand on the boy's warm, clammy forehead. "You're burning up. I'm getting you out of here."
Shinsou thought to ask where, but the words didn't come out of his mouth. In fact, nothing did, though he opened it as though to speak. "Shinsou?" Aizawa questioned, noticing the odd expression on his face. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and tried to meet his gaze, but Shinsou's eyes drifted to stare at a spot on the ground.
Forget talking, then. Shinsou just shrugged and moved to stand, but found that his legs had turned to jelly and the world around him started spinning. Now, that just didn't seem fair. "Hey, Shinsou!" He could hear his teacher calling him, but he seemed so far away. Wasn't he supposed to be helping him? Great, now he was back on his own. He stood-well, he tried to stand, but pain shot up his leg and wrapped around him so tightly that he ended up falling forward. He expected to meet the unforgiving concrete, but instead felt soft firm warmth and heard his name being called. At least, he thought it was his name. He didn't know anymore and really didn't care. At least he was wrong about being left alone.
On the other end of the world, Aizawa kicked himself for not realizing the kid was about to pass out. Thankfully, he had been right there when Shinsou jerked upward, placed his left foot down, and then slid off the bench and right into his chest with a mangled cry. He attempted to rouse the boy, but only received garbled murmurs in response. It was clear consciousness was coming and going, and Aizawa didn't want to wait around for it to stay. Gently he shifted Shinsou onto his back, doing his best to keep from aggravating the hurt ankle as well as any other injuries the boy may have. He received only a grunt of protest when his left leg was jostled against Aizawa's lower side.
Aizawa carried Shinsou out of the park and down the sidewalk. He managed to carry the kid, his backpack, and ring Nemuri's agency to let them know that he had gotten wrapped up in something important and they would either need to tap in a substitute or hang tight for another hour or so until the next shift came in. As it turned out, they had plenty of heroes on duty that night for how slow it was, so they just wished him a good night.
"No 'spital." The voice was so weak and breathy that if the night hadn't been so quiet, Aizawa would never have heard it. It was a good thing the rain had slowed, but he felt bad that Shinsou was still left uncovered and vulnerable to it.
"Hmm?" the Pro Hero asked as Shinsou attempted to shift against his teacher's back, but gave up when his body wouldn't corporate.
Shinsou sucked in another breath. "'m fine, no 'spital."
"Okay, kid." From the brief look over Aizawa had given him before leaving the park, his foot looked sprained, but not broken, and he expected his fever to come down with some medicine and rest. Plus, he hated hospitals, and selfishly didn't want to spend the rest of the night in one unless Shinsou's condition became worse. He couldn't say that Shinsou was "fine" either, but he wasn't going to argue that point with the semi-conscious kid.
They rounded another corner and came upon an apartment building set apart from the surrounding businesses. Only a few lights were on in the windows, but most were completely dark. Aizawa carried him through the front gate and up the walkway to the front door of the building. Shifting Shinsou has carefully as he could, he used one hand to open the heavy door and stepped into the lobby of the building. Shinsou squirmed on his back once the lobby lights enveloped them, burying his face into the back of his teacher's capture weapon.
"Too bright." The warmth of the lobby was also started to get to him. He'd been outside in the rain for so long that the sudden change in temperature felt uncomfortable. The cool rain clung to his back through his clothing and hair as the heat from his body and from the building tried to meet.
"I know," Aizawa just hummed in response, trying to ignore the boy's almost violent shivering on his back as he trudged up a flight of stairs. They walked down the hall on the second floor before he stopped in front of a seemingly random door and he placed Shinsou's wet backpack on the carpeted floor. He tried to gently shift the boy to fish his key out from his pocket, which earned him a displeased moan of pain. At least he was becoming a little more lucid.
Once he opened the door, he carried Shinsou straight through the living room, down the small hallway, and into the bathroom where he set him down on the closed toilet lid. Shinsou wobbled a little and blinked away some of the bleariness as he tried to gain his bearings now that he was sitting upright. Aizawa kept a hand on his shoulder while he used a small towel to dry up some of Shinsou's soaked hair and wrapped another around his shaking body. Shinsou curled into the towel the moment it touched his back and he tried to help with drying off, but he couldn't get his arms to cooperate.
When he had gotten his hair from wet to just damp, Aizawa started working the towel around Shinsou's neck and arms. It wasn't the best job, but dry clothes would take care of the rest. "Give me a moment," he said as he stood before leaving the room. Shinsou held himself steady, continuing to weakly use the towels to dry his face. If he'd been in any other state, Shinsou would have been curious to see how his teacher lived. For now, though he just tried to ignore the fact that he was sitting in such a pitiful state on his teacher's toilet.
Shinsou had no idea how long his teacher was gone. It could have been just one minute or sixty, though it was probably closer to ten, but Aizawa eventually returned with a small pile of wrinkled clothes. He had managed to dig out a simple thin black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, some socks, and boxers from a box in the back of his closet. All the items were very much a part of the Pro Hero's usual aesthetic but were from his high school days. They were a little thinner, a little smaller, and hopefully would fit Shinsou well.
He set the pile on the side of the kitchen sink and grabbed a first aid kit from the cabinets below. After fishing out some bandages, he knelt on the floor at Shinou's feet and gently pried his left shoe and sock away. Unfortunately, no amount of gentleness could prevent the pain from shooting up the boy's leg and he doubled over, biting his lip to keep from crying out.
"I know." Aizawa tried to be as comforting as possible, though that wasn't really his thing. He felt along the foot and up to the ankle as Shinsou sucked in breath after shuddering breath. Thankfully, it truly didn't seem broken, just badly sprained, and Aizawa was able to wrap it up tightly. "Does that feel better?" he asked, looking up at Shinsou. The dampness he had managed to wipe away before was now replaced with more beads of sweat from the exertion the pain caused him, and his cheeks were flushed against his pale skin.
"No."
"Well, at least you're honest," he couldn't help but let a little chuckle escape his lips as he stood. "It should still help. Now, any other injuries I should know about?"
"Arm," Shinsou held out his shaking right arm as he fought to slow his breathing as the pain in his ankle subsided. Aizawa gently held the arm in his hands, feeling around the limb until he touched a sensitive spot that left the boy hissing in pain.
"Bruised," Aizawa declared, finding no evidence of a break. "Maybe a torn muscle, but nothing I can really splint. I'll wrap it up, anyway." He took another roll of bandages and expertly wrapped the arm. Shinsou bent it back and forth when he was done, then let it rest at his side. "Anything else?"
"Chest is tight," Shinsou placed his left hand on the center of his breast and took a shaky breath, wincing as his breath caught on a spot of pain. He then brought his hand down further to rest gently just to the left of his center. "Ribs too."
Aizawa nodded and helped remove the boy's shirt, careful not to aggravate the bruised arm or other injuries. He didn't see anything that made him worried about Shinsou's chest, but he did see a nasty looking bruise blossoming on his left side. "This will hurt," he warned before he replaced Shinsou's hand with his own and pressed firmly on the side, checking for any breaks.
Shinsou squeezed his eyes shut and sharply sucked in air as he weathered the pain. Aizawa knew the poor kid was almost at his limit, but he couldn't let him rest without ensuring all injuries had been accounted for. At least, in this case, this particular injury was far more painful than it was dangerous. He felt no crack of breaks, just a lot of tenderness.
"Well, your ribs are definitely bruised and they'll be sore for a while. They should heal just fine. I think the tightness in your chest is due to congestion, but I'm not a doctor, and if it gets worse we will have to go to a hospital." Aizawa began to pack away the first aid kid and glanced over at the boy after putting it back in its usual spot. Shinsou looked quite ragged. He was dryer and not shivering as bad, but his face had paled considerably and he was panting with irregular breaths.
"You with me?" Aizawa asked, noticing his eyes were closed in concentration. Shinsou blinked and looked over at him, nodded slowly, though he still wasn't quite making eye contact. Good enough.
"Get changed and I'll make some tea." The teacher pat the clothes on the side of the sink to direct his gaze over to them.
"I have clothes in my backpack," Shinsou offered, not wanting to be so much of a burden.
"I'll get those in the dryer," was all the attention Aizawa gave to that comment. He picked up the backpack from the bathroom floor and left the room.
By the time Aizawa returned, Shinsou had somehow managed to get himself into the clothes that had been left out for him. The sweats seemed fine, if a little long, though the shirt was a little loose. Aizawa wasn't sure if that was because Sinshou was smaller than he was at that age or if it had just gotten stretched out over time.
Already Shinsou was feeling a little better, though as his body relaxed into the warmth of the clothing and apartment, he became even more exhausted. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open and a few times he had to catch himself before he tumbled off the toilet seat and onto the cool tiled ground. Unconsciously, his body seemed to realize he could let his guard down a little. He was safe. All he was waiting for was the moment he could lay down in comfortable blankets and finally sleep.
Aizawa's hand on his shoulder startled him out his daze and he didn't miss the look of concern in his teacher's eyes. His face was tight, as though he was holding back the worry he felt inside, likely for both their sakes. Aizawa helped lift Shinsou by his uninjured arm and assisted him in hobbling over to the couch in the living room. Shinsou dropped onto the couch, sitting with his back resting against the fabric as a mug of warm tea was placed in his hands. Shinsou breathed in the soothing steam, not caring what flavor Aizawa had made for him. Cautiously, he brought the hot liquid to his lips, taking care with his shaking hands to avoid spilling it. Warmth blossomed within him as he drank, eyes half-lidded while he sank further into the fabric of the couch.
Aizawa watched him quietly from where he half sat, half leaned opposite the boy on top of the simple coffee table. After giving Shinsou a moment to drink some of the tea, he placed two little blue tablets in his hand. "Take these," he instructed, nodding to the fever reducers. Shinsou did so without even asking what they were in an uncharacteristic display of trust and obedience. He just washed them down with another generous sip of tea. Aizawa kept his eye trained on the boy, partly to monitor his condition, and partly because he was worried he would fall asleep holding the steaming mug in his hand.
Once the tea was gone, Aizawa left the living room, only to return a moment later with a pillow and some warm looking blankets. Shinsou eyed it all hungrily. He was more comfortable than he'd been in weeks and now that he was dry and warm, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in the sheets and sleep for days.
"Get some rest." Aizawa placed the pillow on one end of the couch, against the armrest and pooled the blankets on the opposite end. He watched Shinsou expectantly as the kid nodded, though he didn't move. He still had the now cooled ceramic mug in his shaking hands and his heavy eyes blinked lazily. Shinsou was battling for consciousness, and he was very clearly losing.
"Here." Aizawa gently pried the mug out of his hands and found himself a little surprised that Shinsou reached back to try to grab at it, as though that mug was his only lifeline. He discarded the cup on the coffee table and helped Shinsou to lie down against the pillow. A sigh of contentment escaped the boy's lips once his body untensed against the cushion of the couch. The blankets were drawn up around him and his left leg was propped up with a small throw pillow.
Aizawa placed the last blanket over him and, seeing that the boy's eyes were closed, he placed the back of his hand against his forehead. Warm, not burning, but definitely worrisome. He'd have to check it more properly in the morning to be sure it was getting better.
He grabbed the mug and returned it to the sink in the kitchen, then went about pouring himself a well-earned cup of tea.
"Sensei?" Aizawa had been so lost in thought that the sudden sound startled him and he spun around to look into the living room.
He walked over, mug in hand, to find Shinsou still in the same position lying on his back on the couch. His eyes were closed and he appeared asleep, so Aizawa just ventured a whispered, "Yeah?"
There was a long pause, long enough to make Aizawa believe he had either fallen back asleep or had never said anything to begin with. Just as he was about to turn back to the kitchen he heard Shinsou suck in a labored breath and mumble, "I'm sorry."
Aizawa looked down, pity in his tired eyes as he sighed. He uncurled a hand from his warm mug and placed it on the boy's forehead, brushing back some of the limp strands of hair that were slick from sweat.
"Go to sleep, kid."
Shinsou gladly did as he was told. He didn't dream, though he would later remember fleeting moments of lucidity. The first time he awoke, he wasn't sure where he was as the room was so dark save for the unnatural shining of a streetlight outside, but the content feeling of safety lulled him back to sleep. The second time, the warm glow of early dawn had washed over the living room and he awoke knowing that he was in Aizawa's apartment, though the events that brought him there were hazy in his mind.
The third time, he barely remembered the actual awake part, but pain and uncomfortable warmth coursed through him as consciousness returned. He couldn't be sure what time of day it was as his eyes remained squeezed shut, but he did hear his name being spoken softly and felt himself being moved upward. Cool water touched his lips and he sipped it gratefully until he was set back down. Something cold and damp was placed on his forehead and he felt a blanket being placed on him as he slipped back under.
He wasn't sure how long this went on. Sometimes he would wake to darkness, other times to daylight, and sometimes he couldn't get his eyes to open at all. He felt relatively uncomfortable each time he awoke, however, sometimes it was more muted and others it crashed into him like a wave. He could tell there was someone with him most of the time, but though he was spoken to, he couldn't make his own voice cooperate.
Then, all of a sudden, he seemed to break through the barrier. One moment he was drifting in a sea of nothingness and the next he was looking directly into the tired eyes of his teacher. Concern ebbed to relief and Shinsou watched as Aizawa sat himself down on his coffee table.
"You with me, kid?" he asked, his eyes searching Shinsou's for signs that the boy was actually lucid.
"Yeah." His voice wobbled and he coughed away a little congestion. It was light in the room. Shinsou estimated that it was likely midday. His teacher was dressed in his usual black sweatshirt and sweatpants, though his hair was tied back in a bun.
"Good. Thought you might wake up today. Your fever broke last night. You've been out for about two days."
"Two days?!" Shinsou shot up and was met by a firm hand to his chest and a sharp jolt of pain in his sprained ankle. "Gah!" He couldn't help but cry out and brought a hand to his head as he tried to blink away the black spots that crowded his vision.
Aizawa just shook his head and tried to guide his student back down onto the couch. It would be just like Shinsou to knock himself out moments after finally waking up. The two days had dragged on as he cared for the young student. A few times, he had blinked his eyes open, but they were glassy and unfocused and he would quickly close them again after glancing around. There were many times where he had cried out in pain and Aizawa had tried to get water and something for the pain into him. He couldn't say he was the most soothing caretaker, but he was usually able to calm him, even if Shinsou didn't quite seem aware of his presence.
"What about my school work?" Shinsou asked once he had steadied himself.
"I'll have someone bring it when you're well enough to complete it. Right now, you need to focus on getting that fever down and resting that ankle." Shinsou shifted his gaze down the couch to stare at his propped up food. "Sprained, by the way," Aizawa confirmed. "Badly at that, but not broken."
Shinsou breathed a sigh of relief and leaned his head against the pillow so that his gaze was now trained at the ceiling. Aizawa let that last comment rest a moment before he pat Shinsou's shoulder and stood, walking off into the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with a cup of tea and some more pills that Shinsou guessed were either pain relievers or fever reducers, or both.
"Now," his teacher started after he had been helped up and took the medicine. "Can you please explain to me what you were doing trying to sleep outside in the cold?" Shinsou's eyes immediately dropped to the brown liquid in his cup. They sat like that for a moment, but Shinsou knew he wasn't going to be able to escape this question.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go," Shinsou admitted, unable to bring himself to meet his teacher's eye.
"Where are the people you were staying with?" Aizawa was fully aware of Shinsou's living situation, though he hadn't been able to track down his current guardians in the two days he had been in his care.
To his question, Shinsou shrugged. "Did they kick you out?" Aizawa asked.
"No," came the immediate reply.
"Did you run away?"
There was a slight pause before Shinsou shook his head. "No, I just… left. It was mutual." Aizawa couldn't help the puff of a laugh that escaped through his nose. His student was speaking like this was a mere business transaction.
"Where are they?"
"Kyoto… or somewhere. I don't know. They moved."
"And you didn't want to go with them?"
"I would have had to leave UA."
"How long were you out there?"
"A month, maybe." Shinsou looked upwards, trying to do the math in his head. "Yeah, a month. Not in the park at first, I started staying there last week. I used to be closer to the train station. It wasn't bad at first, but then it got cold."
Aizawa nodded in understanding. "Now, let me get this straight," he started as he leaned back a bit on the coffee table. "You and your foster family… mutually agreed to part ways, so you decided to become homeless so you wouldn't have had to leave UA?"
Shinsou hung his head and mumbled, "Yes, sir." Hearing his plan laid out so plainly made it sound foolish.
"Why didn't you go to anyone for help?"
"I didn't have anyone to go to."
"You didn't think to come to me?"
Shinsou's head snapped up and he was surprised to see genuine curiosity in his teacher's eyes. Aizawa didn't even seem hurt. He genuinely wanted to know what Shinsou had been thinking.
"I… Well, it wasn't because I didn't trust you or something," the boy stammered out the explanation. "I just… I thought that if anyone knew, there wouldn't be anything anyone could do. I'd still be shipped away." He ran a hand through his hair. "I guess you don't need to worry about getting my homework to me."
Aizawa frowned at Shinsou's words. While he understood the kid's thought process, he was disappointed that he still didn't feel there was a chance anyone could help him with the situation. Shinsou had averted his gaze, so Aizawa leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We'll figure something out," he said. "I promise. I'm sorry that the adults in your life have failed you. I understand why you took the actions that you did. I only wish that I had been better able to show you that you can talk to me about anything. I'm not going to let a student with as much potential as yours just walk away so easily."
"What can we even do?" Shinsou asked, defeat evident in his voice.
"Believe it or not, Shinsou, you're still just a kid." Aizawa sat back and crossed his arms. "And I don't say that to mean that you aren't capable and mature, but because it isn't your job to worry about that sort of thing." Shinsou watched him, his expression a mixture of awe and confusion. He couldn't believe Aizawa was able to sound so confident about such a dire situation. He also struggled to allow himself to believe that the answer had been so simple all along. "Now, get some more rest. You look like you're about to drop."
It was only then that Shinsou noticed his heavy eyelids and the way his blinks became more drawn out the longer he kept himself awake. He leaned back against his pillow and thumbed the blankets that had pooled at his waist. Aizawa, in a display of caretaking Shinsou had never expected to see from him, pulled those blankets up so they covered his chest. He then grabbed his empty mug and stood from his perch on the coffee table.
"I'm sorry, Sensei." Shinsou met his teacher's gaze.
Aizawa offered a tight smile and said, "Me too, kid."
The next time Shinsou awoke, he was able to hold down some simple soup and more tea. His fever went down steadily as the week went on and he spent much of his time resting. It had been over a month since he last slept on something that was actually made for sleeping and he couldn't remember the last time he was in a home that felt so warm. Aizawa was an aloof and cold seeming man, but he cared for Shinsou more than anyone ever had before. Sure, he wasn't a touchy-feely sort of guy, but it was his actions that showed Shinsou how much he really cared. He made him food and tea, washed his clothes, and made sure Shinsou was as comfortable as possible. He rarely woke up in the morning without a blanket over him. One evening, he ate dinner at the table but fell asleep after a lull in conversation while Aizawa was clearing the dishes. He awoke tucked into the couch the next morning.
True to his word, Aizawa got everything figured out. After a week in his home, he told Shinsou that he would be staying there for the foreseeable future. Shinsou had asked about the details, but Aizawa told him not to worry about it, and instead to focus on recovery.
It took another few days, but Shinsou was soon back to school, albeit with crutches while his ankle healed. It was around then that he moved from the couch to a comfortable futon that was placed in Aizawa's spare bedroom turned office.
Later on in the school year, he was moved to the Hero Course and moved into the 1-A class dorms the next semester. However, Aizawa kept Shinsou's bed right where it was. No matter what happened, he wanted to be sure the kid always had someplace to stay.
Hello! It has been quite a while and for that I apologize. Things went rather downhill for me this year (for obvious reasons and also for a few others), but I'm trying to get myself back into writing!
This is something I wrote a few months ago, edited, and it turned into this. I'm a SUCKER for some shameless dadzawa with whumpy injury recovery. I apologize if anyone's a little OOC, this was pure self-indulgence and I hope you guys enjoy!
I have written a few more chapters of The Pro Hero's Daughter but I need to decide a direction to go from where I am in the story so far. Once I have that, I'll be posting those too!