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Shouto doesn’t get sick. He doesn’t ever catch the common cold like everyone else does, nor does he develop fevers. He’s been that way ever since he can remember, and it’s due to his quirk. A perfect blend of hot and cold, and the immaculate, impeccable temperature regulator.
He doesn’t even need to activate his abilities consciously—it works just as everyone else’s natural immune system does. Involuntary and automatic, so that there’s nothing much they have to do other than taking it easy and waiting it out.
Well…
Shouto thought he didn’t get sick.
But alas, he is no exception to the way the world works, and time and space will not yield for him.
He, in fact, does get sick, although not in the way everyone else does. His symptoms are more minute and less noticeable, and he even skips over some of them entirely, but they’re still there. He may not feel warm or get chills, but every other consequence, he can now experience in all of its unhindered, undiluted effects.
Lethargy and drowsiness, irritation and discomfort—all that great stuff—he can now tell apart.
A lot of those conditions overlap with how he feels after a workout or an extensive training session, and just a year ago, he was doing those on a daily basis, without pause or interruption.
He had adapted to feeling worn out and exhausted all the time. He was used to being pushed to his limits and not being allowed to stop until he had given it his all, and more. Everyday was a test of endurance, and a trial to see how much further he’s improved from the day before, so there was never a time where he could truly relax and become accustomed to the workload.
It’d always be more and more activities, one on top of another, stacked up until he doesn’t have time to do anything but what Endeavor wanted him to, because this was apparently what he was ‘created for’ and ‘meant to accomplish’.
So yeah, it would have been foolish to take time off for something as trivial as being sick.
So he didn’t.
But a lot has changed since then, and he’s no longer in a perpetual state of tiredness and apathy, practicing aimlessly and doing nothing for his own enjoyment.
it’s been a long time since he’s felt like that, but now… being sick vaguely resembles it.
It’s weird, and it’s definitely not what he expected, but it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with in the past.
Well, at least he believes this is what being sick feels like.
He probably looks like an idiot searching up the symptoms of being sick on the internet, but it’s fine. He just wants to know.
Within the split second of pressing enter in the search bar, he gets his answers.
-Fever
-Cough
-Sore throat
-Runny or stuffy nose
-Muscle or body aches
-Headaches
-Fatigue
Okay, then. Well, he doesn’t have all of those, but he definitely can place a check mark next to four of them: his throat does feel kind of scratchy, as if he’d been yelling excessively. He feels worn out even though he just woke up, and he has to go and get ready for school in a few minutes. The way his entire body hurts and how there’s a headache brewing at his temples isn’t going to help the matter, either.
He chooses to tell Hitoshi that morning, as they’re on the train, because if there’s anyone who could help him in this situation, it’d have to be the one person who deals with migraines constantly due to quirk training. Hitoshi is no stranger to taking care of those, and he’d surely be able to assist Shouto, even if the circumstances are different.
Katsuki’s standing a few feet away, shifting over a little to allow more people to enter through the sliding doors. It’s pretty crowded, and the sound of people talking, along with the noise of train wheels squeaking on the tracks everytime it makes a stop is really starting to irk Shouto. He’s feeling particularly sensitive to the lights overhead, too.
The indigo-haired teen currently frowns at Shouto, reaching over to feel the younger boy’s forehead, placing the back on his palm behind dual-colored bangs.
Shouto shrugs. “You’re not going to feel a temperature change. My quirk, remember?”
“Ah,” Hitoshi responds, dropping his hands to take a good look at Shouto’s eyes instead. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to going to school today? It’s not too late to go and turn back now, y’know. Being sick is a valid excuse to stay home.”
“I’m trying to confirm it first,” Shouto mumbles, contemplative. “What if I’m not sick, and I’m just doing this for no reason?”
“Well, you don’t necessarily need someone to give it to you as a fact in order for you to be allowed to say that you’re not feeling well. It doesn’t matter—if you think you’re feeling off, then that’s enough of an explanation.”
Shouto shrugs again, not knowing what to do. “Do you have any tips, though?”
“Well, when I get migraines……………. I just cry.”
Katsuki chuckles from beside them. “Hitoshi, stop. Shouto, if you want some real advice, just take it easy and get some rest. You probably shouldn’t be going to school either, as he previously mentioned.”
Hitoshi adds in. “You can take something for it too. Hell, I bet you could just ask either of our dads, and they’ll give you some ibuprofen or something. I take them when it gets real bad for me, otherwise it’s just a waiting game.”
Katsuki hums in agreement. “Actually—come here, this might help, even though I’m pretty sure you could do it yourself with your own quirk.”
Shouto’s confused for a second, but steps forward and allows Katsuki to place both his palms on his forehead.
A certain warmness is spread, caused by the slight activation of Katsuki’s quirk. The boy runs warmer than most people’s bodies either way, but he’s also able to heat up his hands minutely enough as to avoid detonating any nitroglycerin.
And wow, does it feel great.
Shouto closes his eyes against the heat, relishing in the comfort.
Okay, Shouto swears he puts his head down for a single second during class, and no longer than that.
A certain green-haired friend begs to differ, though.
“Todoroki-kun!” comes out in a frantic whisper beside him as he’s being shaken lightly by the shoulders.
“Hm..?” Shouto asks, lifting his head, the red and white strands of hair covering his vision. He cards his fingers through the messy locks, squinting at the fluorescents in the room, letting his eyes adjust to them again after having his head in his arms for… whatever amount of time has passed.
Izuku kneels in front of his desk, and he’s staring with wide eyes, concern evident on his face.
Shouto stares back in confusion, his mind hazy.
“What’s… happening?” he asks.
“You were asleep! It’s almost lunchtime, so I thought I’d wake you up,” Izuku explains nervously. “Are you feeling alright?”
Shouto nods absentmindedly, looking around at the rest of the class, who seems to be wrapping up and collecting their books. Izuku mentioned that they’re about to head to lunch very soon, which means… that this is their fourth period. Wait, what? Has it really been an hour?
Midnight is at the front of the class, erasing something from the whiteboard. Okay, it’s still the same teacher, then. He just missed a single lesson in the duration he’s been asleep.
“Why didn’t you wake me up before?” Shouto asks. Surely, if Izuku hadn’t noticed, he’s pretty sure someone else would’ve.
“Um, well…” Izuku says, giving him a hesitant smile. “Iida-kun and Uraraka-san were going to say something, too, originally! But Kacchan stopped us, saying you needed the rest.”
“Oh,” was Shouto’s simple reply.
“Yeah. Are you okay, though? You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Shouto says. He does feel marginally better, but the lingering feeling of being ill is still there. “I was just tired.”
“Okay!” Izuku says, standing up from where he’s crouching. “Well, I’ll catch you next period, if you’re going to go with your brothers for lunch.”
“I’ll see you. Thanks,” Shouto responds, looking down at his lesson material. He collects his notes and pens, stuffing them into their respective places in his backpack.
Hitoshi comes dashing over a second later, hauling himself up onto Shouto’s desk, sitting at the edge.
“Dude. Just go and tell Dad you need to take the remainder of the day off, unless you want me to do it for you.”
“I… it’s already halfway through classes. I can rest when I get home,” Shouto counters weakly, and Hitoshi rolls his eyes.
“Katsuki,” Hitoshi calls. “Come and talk some common sense into our brother.”
Katsuki huffs, walking over with one backpack strap slung over his shoulder. He takes one look at Shouto’s face and then grabs him by the arm, pulling him up from his seat. Shouto stumbles forward a bit, one hand grabbing his bag, and allows the blond to drag him along as they’re exiting the room. Hitoshi follows closely behind.
“Where are we going?” Shouto questions, when he realizes that the three of them are headed in the opposite direction of the cafeteria.
“Somewhere you’ll stay for the afternoon,” Katsuki states.
Shouto’s puzzled, but quickly realizes what the other teen means when they stop in front of the teacher’s lounge.
“Oh,” Shouto says, blinking. “No, why—”
He doesn’t have the time to say anything else before Katsuki pushes the door open and hauls Shouto inside and onto the nearest couch.
There aren’t a lot of teachers in here, but Shouto can see Ectoplasm, Power Loader, and Snipe in the corner…. and Hizashi sitting at the table, grading some papers.
Aizawa’s in his sleeping bag, on the opposite couch.
It’s the voice hero who notices them first, though.
“Little listeners!” he exclaims, giving them a bright smile. “What brings you all here?”
“We were escorting Shouto,” Hitoshi says, before turning around. “You can ask him yourself.”
And with that, he dashes out of the room, and Katsuki shrugs.
“Yeah, just make sure he doesn’t leave and takes care of himself, or whatever,” the blond adds, before taking off as well, abandoning the dual-haired teen.
Shouto rolls his eyes at the closing door and turns back to Hizashi. “They wanted me to keep me out of lessons for the rest of the day, because I feel a little sick.”
“Kiddo!” Hizashi says, his eyes widening. “Is your head alright? Does anything hurt? Do you want to lie down, or if you need some water, or maybe something to eat—”
“Hizashi,” a gruff voice calls from nearby. “Stop interrogating him with so many questions.”
The resident yellow caterpillar gets up to a sitting position, and black eyes meet Shouto’s heterochromic ones.
“Shouto. What’s wrong?”
“Uh… my throat’s sore. And my head hurts a little,” Shouto says, frowning. “...And I’m tired.”
“Okay. I’ll find something for you to take for the pain. And if you’re hungry… just have one of my jelly packets.”
“Shouta!” Hizashi says, amused. “That’s not healthy—I can go grab something from the lunchroom, if you’d like, Shouto.”
“That—that sounds good, I guess. I’ll take both.”
“Great!” Hizashi replies. “Get some rest, kid. Being sick sucks, but you’ll be okay if you don’t strain yourself.”
Shouto nods, sinking into the comfortable pillows on the couch. Well. This’ll do. He’ll catch up on his school stuff later.
He’s unused to having all this attention when he’s not feeling that great… but it’s nice. It’s nice to have people look out for him because they genuinely want to help.