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A major part of being on house arrest, Himiko’s found, is the constant nagging of your pseudo-guardian-parole-officer…guy.
Aizawa Shouta, for all of his facades and masked emotions, is a total and utter softie for all his students. He’s like a significantly less violent Touya-nii, but she thinks one of those kids could get his personal permission to stab someone if they had good enough puppy-dog eyes. Sure, he’s more of a so-called ‘acts of service’ guy, a man of few words, but it’s so obvious how deep his paternal instincts go.
But while his intentions may be pure, she could do without some of the nagging.
‘Have you eaten?’ this, ‘Toga, you cannot survive off of one meal a day,’ that, ‘You should really find some method of increasing your protein intake,’ the other. Non-stop, seven days a week, at least 3 calls or visits a day. It means Himiko has the added bonus of being the only student (minus his son) who knows his off-campus address, and 24/7 permission to visit either apartment with no notice.
Standing in front of his door, for the first time in her life, she thinks Aizawa’s constant nagging might be a relief.
“You better be awake in there, old man! We have a category-five my girlfriend is suffering event and I need your help, immediately!” She yells, slamming her fist against the teacher’s door. His husband won’t hear her, and Aizawa runs off off so little sleep that when he does, he basically goes into a coma. The volume is warranted.
She almost topples over when Aizawa opens his door, rubbing his fist against his crusty eye, “What? Did you want to have dinner here? It’s a bit late for that, but there’s leftovers in the-“
”Oh my god, now is not the time! I said category-five my girlfriend is suffering event! That’s Ochako-chan, we need your help! Now! Urgently!” She snaps.
If he were anyone else, he’d probably chip her for her manners. Thankfully, he’s quick to assume the seriousness of the situation.
“Where is she, in the common room or her room? What’s the situation ?” He interrogates, immediately swapping into his role as both hero and teach..ther. Dadcher? Now’s not the time for those questions.
They skip the elevator, taking the stairs three at a time, “Her room. And well, it’s easier for you to just see it.”
Her door is still cracked open, and Himiko can hear the gravely tone of Katsuki-chan attempting to reassure her girlfriend, intermittently broken up by whimpering. It’s the middle of the night, so they try to keep it quiet as they race towards her room.
She’s in the exact state she was before Himiko left for Aizawa; clutching her stomach, sweat and tears dripping down her face, Zero Gravity activated and floating in midair. Beside her, Katsuki-chan looks, dare Himiko say concerned, trying to convince her to deactivate it and rest. Obviously, he’s been unsuccessful, and his clear exhaustion can’t just be attributed to it being past his bedtime.
He’s conscious enough to bark out a warning when Aizawa appears, he would have felt the vibrations of them approaching.
“Stop! Don’t fuckin’ deactivate her Quirk yet, she’ll just hurt herself more, and then puke everywhere. At least get her a bucket or some shit first.”
Aizawa grunts in agreement, throwing him a set of keys, “There’s a bucket in the cleaning cabinet. While you’re down there, use those to get her medications. Just grab all of them, Toga or I will sort it out.”
Katsuki-chan wastes no time, stomping his way downstairs, with no regard given to the time of night. It gives Aizawa the opportunity to redirect his attention to the issue at hand. He looks to her rather than Ochako-chan, presuming she’d be able to explain better than someone writhing in pain.
“She’s been like this for half an hour or so,” Himiko explains, “I came to get my goodnight kisses and found her in midair! She said she was in too much pain to lay down, that like, any pressure or touch was agonising. I got Katsuki-chan to try and help talk her down, but obviously that didn’t work, so I went to get you.”
It’s kinda familiar, Touya-nii used to get like this sometimes. Apparently, his fire burned so strongly that it damages his bones and joints, so bad sometimes he would hardly get out of bed, hardly even breathing without being in pain. It used to scare her, but she’d never tell him that. All she could do was put a cold towel on his forehead, mop up his sweat, and give him painkillers on the rare occasion they had any.
Ochako-chan has so many more options available to her, and Himiko’s not bitter about it. There’s a privilege in hearing the alert on Aizawa’s phone chime, notifying him that Katsuki-chan has accessed the medicine drawers, and hopefully meaning he’s about to come back upstairs. The Class 1-A collection of Ibuprofen must have been opened too, with Aizawa’s phone chiming for a second time. God has never been on Himiko’s side, never in her life, but thank god he’s fast, because she can’t take much more of seeing Ochako-chan like this.
He enters the room and slams the door behind him, dropping the bucket on the table. It’s got all of Ochako-chan’s prescriptions in it, plus some of the communal pain medications, electrolyte sachets, and two bottles of water.
There’s her Propranolol, but that’s only for when she’s having chest pains, Meloxicam, god knows she needs painkillers right now, Trimebutine, for the inevitable nausea after her quirk deactivates, and Acetaminophen that she can’t take with her Meloxicam. Katsuki-chan must have grabbed it just in case. Regardless, Himiko’s quick to take out the correct doses of the relevant pills.
“For the record, Ibuprofen is more effective in times like this,” she notes, passing the boxes back to Katsuki’s open arms.
“Nah, that’s for me.” He replies, cracking open one of the bottles of water, “Kept my hearing aids on just in case she said anything, but the racket she’s been making is giving me a headache.”
Ochako-chan groans out an apology, while Aizawa mops up some of the sweat on her brow, frowning. Katsuki-chan grunts his disapproval.
“It’s fine, Cheeks. Not like I’m gonna make you apologise for being in pain, I’m not that much of an asshole. I’ll leave you with these two, ‘s gettin’ packed in here. Take it easy.”
He shuts the door behind him quietly this time, likely only because of his headache. The silence doesn’t last long; Himiko can hear her girlfriend’s heart racing, blood rapidly pumping from the pain. Himiko’s own heart clenches in her chest.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” Aizawa mumbles, snapping back into action, “Toga, I’m going to need you to take hold of her, so when her Quirk deactivates she doesn’t fall and hurt herself any further.”
Himiko’s fine with that request, she doesn’t need any excuse to hold her girlfriend, even if it would preferably be under better circumstances. Aizawa’s quick to pass them the bucket, tying her hair back in advance for the aftermath of her Quirk overuse.
“Ochako, sweetheart, you need to deactivate your quirk. If you can’t, I’ll erase it, but you need to do it. You’re hurting yourself, and I can’t let you keep doing that, I’m sorry.”
Ochako-chan whines in discontent, and his frown deepens. She’s hyperventilating, Himiko can feel her chest move. She’s panicking.
“It’s okay kid, we’re both right here. C’mon honey, you need to let go of your Quirk.”
“No, no, no, please. It hurts Sensei, every time I lay down it hurts! Please, just until the painkillers kick in…”
Ochako-chan is red in the face with her distress, eyes glassy and red, chin quivering with each sob. Aizawa, a man of little emotion, looks kinda teary himself, and Himiko doubts she’s much better.
“Sweetheart, if you don’t release it, I’ll have to erase it. You’ll pass out at this rate.”
“…I’ll take that over feeling like this.” Ochako-chan moans, and Himiko can’t tell if she has sweat or tears running down her face anymore.
It’s physically painful to watch as Aizawa activates his quirk, while her girlfriend whines out streams of ‘please no’. Her teacher looks like it’s hurting him just as much, brushing his fingers through sweaty bangs as she begins to hurl. Himiko holds her close, but tries not to compress her stomach any further.
She hears the door click open again, but she’s too preoccupied with the task in front of her to investigate who their guest is. It becomes obvious soon enough, when a blast of cold air flows into the room.
“I ran into Bakugo in the common room, and he explained the situation. I had wanted to give you some privacy, but I thought I may be of some assistance. Also, he forgot to bring you anything to take the medicine with.”
There’s a clinking sound as Shou-chan makes her some small chunks of ice, dropping them in one bowl, next to another filled with precooked rice from dinner. He was smart enough to bring her a spoon instead of chopsticks, but by the sounds of it, she’s likely not going to be feeding herself.
The bed sinks as he sits down, reaching out to touch Ochako-chan. For a second, Himiko feels like growling, like she’s some territorial animal fending away a threat, until she realises what he’s trying to do.
Ochako-chan groans in relief as he presses his warm hand to her stomach, echoed by the bucket she’s leaning over. The room is starting to smell like a mixture between her floral detergent and butyric acid, making Himiko’s nose burn, but at least the worst of the nausea seems to have passed.
Aizawa’s quick to pick up the bowl of rice, waiting steadily for her to take a bite, even when she coughs up bile at the smell.
“Feelin’ like a bit of a baby here,” She murmurs through an acid burned throat.
Himiko mumbles back, “Well, you’re still a kid, y’know? You’re 16, not 60. Even if your back hurts like you are.”
Ochako-chan must be feeling a tiny bit better if she can pinch her for that last bit. Even Aizawa laughs at her reaction, maybe a little bit out of relief.
She manages to get through ¾ of the bowl, even if she’s uncomfortable about being spoon fed by her teacher, “I mean, it’ll hurt, but I can still feed myself. Yer coddling me a little too much here, ‘Zawa”
“That’s exactly why he’s not making you do it yourself. We’re not babying you, we’re just trying to help. Imagine, it could be worse. He could be ‘in goes the airplane’-ing you.”
Even Aizawa looks a bit nauseous at the thought.
Shou-chan replaces the rice bowl with the ice chips, melted enough to swish her mouth out with, andsoft enough for her to bite down on, which she does with gusto. It’s actually impressive in a way, how quickly she shovels them down, but Himiko can understand wanting to get that taste out of her mouth.
Only once she’s finished the bowl does Shou-chan leave, with a quiet “Hope you feel better,” and a bow, taking the bowls and bucket with him.
It takes a moment for her to take her medications, swallowing slowly so she doesn’t choke and throw up again. Her hair is starting to dry out, in that crusty way it does after you sweat.
Aizawa stands, taking her empty bottle with him to refill in the ensuite. When he returns, the water is tinged purple, with the horror of the Electrolyte Sachet. She can feel her girlfriend shiver in disgust.
Electrolyte sachets are designed for people who’ve lost considerable amounts of fluid, such as those with diarrhoea or frequent vomiting, or people who lose a lot of sweat, like Katsuki-chan. They are also a form of actual torture, and Himiko would know, she’s been through both.
It doesn’t matter how much they advertise themselves as being ‘blackcurrant flavoured’ when they’re actually just salt flavoured, like eating a gummy bear rolled in salt. It’s gross! Sure, it makes sense why they are, but it doesn’t make them appealing.
The real benefit for Ochako-chan, minus the rehydration purposes, is that drinking them slowly delays the essay Aizawa is about to drop on her. Once again, may she repeat, the man is a nag.
“…I’m sorry you had to see all that.” Ochako-chan starts, voice still weak, “I just…couldn’t.”
“You sure scared us all kiddo, but don’t apologise. You were in pain, you couldn’t help it. You know the Mankoski scale, right? Give me the number.”
“…Maybe an 8, but now I’m a 7. I wasn’t delirious, and I could still talk. It’s just that…putting any pressure on my bones ached. I was just lyin’ there, unable to get comfortable, cause everything hurt. The only thing that felt a li’l better was using my Quirk, but the nausea was…”
Ah, that makes sense. Himiko always cries herself when she gets nauseous, but she’s more scared of vomiting than everything. Ochako-chan explained the sensation to her once, how the nausea builds up while she’s using her Quirk, growing and growing until she deactivates it, and like a rubber band snapping, she pukes. Gross.
“And you didn’t call for any of us because…?” Aizawa asks, brow raised.
“…My phone is dead, but I knew Himiko-chan would come around. I just…waited it out until then. It wasn’t intentional, promise!”
“I know, kid. It would have hurt too much to call out physically too, wouldn’t it? Are your medications even working?”
She fidgits with the squishy prints of her fingers, avoiding the question. Pulling her in closer, to the tune of a thinly disguised whimper of pain, Himiko answers for her.
“No, not really. She said they take away a bit of the bite, but not enough. It’s stupid, they’re painkillers that aren’t killing the pain! At least they’re just temporary until she sees a Rheumatologist, but that’s not for another month. So dumb.”
The waiting lists for specialists are ridiculous. She understands that it’s the public system, that the doctors are all overworked with an unreasonably low paycheck compared to private doctors, but it’s not fair. When Ochako-chan is constantly in pain, with very little relief, how is a two month waiting period justifiable? Maybe Himiko’s villainy should have been directed towards Big Pharma or something.
Aizawa sighs, and she can tell he was expecting that answer, before he continues, “Have you spoken to the support department about possible mobility devices yet?”
“Ah, no. I wanted to wait for the specialist’s advice first.” Ochako-chan replies, honest.
“No need to worry about that,” Aizawa reassures, “Recovery Girl has already made recommendations based on what we know. You can trust her judgment. It’ll help you in the meantime, while you’re still waiting to see your doctor.”
“Coolsies! I’ll drag her down then! Will you let me borrow your scarf if I need to use it?” Himiko beams, trying to give him puppy dog eyes…ineffectively.
“Toga, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you use the Capture Scarf. Get Hitoshi to help you if it reaches that point.”
“I’m literally right here.” Ochako-chan gripes, “Surely I’m not that bad of a patient.”
She receives two replies, “I love you, but you’re a terrible patient.”, and “You’re no Midoriya, but you’re definitely a horrifying patient”
Ochako-chan pouts in response, and Himiko pinches at her puffed out cheek. She’s so, so cute, eyes crinkling as she yawns.
“Umm…I’m sure I can go to sleep now. You don’t need to stay here.”
“No way, kid. You’re coming back to the teacher’s dorms so we can keep an eye on you,” Aizawa snorts, while Himiko stares at him, expecting, “And yes, you can come too. You can help me by carrying her.”
“Sounds good!” She replies, carefully picking her girlfriend up into a bridal carry. Immediately, she feels something wrap around them, the Capture Scarf wrapping Ochako-chan into what can only be described as…
“A baby carrier is overkill, surely.” Ochako-chan deadpans. Aizawa shoots her a cheshire grin, while Himiko giggles.
They take the elevator this time, only leaving the common room once Aizawa lays a blanket over a now-unconscious Shou-chan, adjusting his head onto his pillow properly. He must have been struggling to sleep earlier, claustrophobic in his tiny dorm room, the poor guy. She hopes Endeavour burns in hell.
She can see their reflections in the glass windows as they walk. ‘Zawa looks as exhausted as usual, eye circles so dark they’re mimicking black eyes. Ochako-chan just looks damp, shirt clinging to her with sweat. Himiko just looks a little disheveled, the most put together of the three somehow. They’re all messes, but that’s nothing new.
Yamada is still asleep when they arrive, and Eri’s apparently staying with Hitoshi in his dorm. As such, no one bothers staying quiet, even though it’s steadily approaching 3:00AM.
“I’ll go get you some of my older clothes. Do you think you can clean yourself, or do you need Himiko to help you?”
Ochako-chan bites her lip, still tucked against Himiko’s body. The fact that she has to think about it is enough of a response in her teacher’s eyes.
“There’s towels in there, but I’ll leave you both some clothes outside the door. I’ll be in the master bedroom, come get me when you’re done. I’ll still be awake.”
The bathroom is as squeaky clean as the entire flat, the only messes being cat affiliated. Sure enough, there’s plenty of fluffy, clean towels under the sink. Ochako-chan barely hesitates in taking her clothes off, Himiko helping hold the shower head as she rinses off, before sinking into the bath. There’s some Epsom salts in there, and sinking into the opposite side, the warmth is like a balm to Himiko’s tense muscles.
Ochako-chan has her knees tucked to her chest, frowning as she thinks. She only looks a little more relaxed than earlier, but Himiko can tell that the pain has gone down a bit.
“…Y’know, I get scared sometimes about people coddling me.” Ochako-chan admits, “I know yer just tryin’ to take care of me, but I don’t want people to treat me like I’m incapable.”
It’s a fear she expresses pretty often, it’s what stopped her from telling Aizawa about her pain, even when Himiko pleaded with her to. Some scars don’t heal quickly, especially when you don’t produce collagen properly.
“You’re one of the most competent people I know, Ochako-chan,” Himiko reiterates, blinking at her with sleepy eyes, “Nothing will ever change that.”
Ochako-chan sighs, “I know. It’s just hard to remember sometimes.”
“Let me keep reminding you then. I’ll nag you like a true member of the Aizawa family.” Her girlfriend laughs, chortles really, as Himiko raises her hand into a salute.
Down the hall, someone sneezes, in that barking way that old men do.
They eventually, reluctantly, climb out of the water. Aizawa, as promised, left pajamas for them outside the door, sweatpants and t-shirts, all in a horrific shade of pink. Ochako-chan mutters something about getting nauseous again under her breath, as Himiko lays her down on the couch.
A knock on the door, quieter than the ones from earlier, gets her teachers’ attention, both awake now. Yamada looks…interesting with the way his hair is sticking up, he must have forgotten to take the pomade out before he slept.
For a moment, Himiko is distracted by the memory of a Pre-Quirk ad for Gatsby hair rubber, the one with some singer dancing funnily. She’s pulled out of her thoughts by beloved family member Bastard the cat being a, well, bastard, biting at her ankle.
“Listen asshole, you and I both know breakfast isn’t until seven.” Yamada grunts, half-asleep, “Stop biting your big sister.”
“…I’m one of the cats now?”
“We’re all ‘Zawa-sensei’s cats,” A sleepy murmur answers from the couch.
Said teacher’s brow twitches, with a confused smile on his face, “What is it with you and the cat metaphors when you’re tired?”
Himiko isn’t even going to question that this is apparently a repeat event, actually, while Aizawa interprets for his husband. Instead, she plans to curl up next to the sleepy warmth of her girlfriend, moving towards her before a hand grabs her collar, scruffing her like a cat.
“Hold up. Neither of you are sleeping on the couch. We have a fold out we’re going to move into your room, you two can sleep while I mark.”
On the couch, Ochako-chan lets out a sequence of mumbled curses at the concept of moving. Angel, the much nicer cat of the litter, has made herself comfortable on her stomach, and would probably let out a similar chain of expletives if she could speak.
“C’mon you, it’s way past our bedtime.” Himiko says, pulling the limp limbs of her girlfriend up again. She whines in her ear, before settling down again, heavier than before, a bit like a cat does. Himiko is prepared for this, this is the reason she goes to the gym so much, for the sake of carrying her girlfriend.
The bed in Himiko’s room is as soft as a cloud, as warm as their bath, as snuggly as her girlfriend. Ochako-chan is out cold as soon as her head hits the pillow, laying down on top of Himiko, with her head tucked in the curve of her neck. Himiko herself is close to following her into unconsciousness.
But before that, she knows she doesn’t imagine fingers running through her hair, nor Yamada murmuring, “G’night, sweet girls,” to them.
She’s too close to sleep to respond, but she hugs Ochako-chan closer to her chest, both hearts thumping in unison, keeping her safe in her arms.