Chapter Text
The first time a classmate of theirs passed out, they brushed it off as Aoyama Yuuga being the over dramatic, out and proud, attention whore he always had been, looking to put on a show. And on the off chance that he’d just overworked himself to the point of an unconscious spell, good. He’d always needed to work harder, put in the elbow grease the rest of 1-A did.
Ashido Mina wordlessly delivered him to the nurse's office and he was later found taking a sick day in his dorm, resting off the fatigue.
The second time a classmate of theirs passed out, Mr. Aizawa told the class to stop muttering and get back to work.
He could later be found muttering as he and Ashido Mina delivered Aoyama Yuuga, the dead asleep boy, to the nurse's office. And even later than that, Yuuga could be found in a corpse like state splayed across his bed, the shines and glitters of his room ricocheting off the planes of his face, across the dips and folds of his clothes, that seemed just slightly too baggy. He wasn’t skinny, was he? Just lean, svelte.
The third time a classmate of theirs passed out, Mineta Minoru jokingly offered to help carry him to the nurse’s office but was dumbstruck when his weak attempts to lift the other were successful—he silently sat down at his desk and did not speak for the rest of the day. When asked about it, he got a strange look in his eye and just shook his head, so they stopped asking and forgot about it. Mineta was another freak they couldn’t trust the impressions of, some pervert who was probably absorbed by some abysmal and inappropriate thought, distant because of his unending fantasies.
Mr. Aizawa could be found distant during class and Ashido Mina didn’t come back when she took Aoyama Yuuga to the nurse’s office—some swore they heard gentle sobs coming from the girls dormitory. Others say that was just the flat screen, a weepy chick flick, surely. And then they glaze over it when someone brings up something funny, some Class B students who got caught in the act in the school yard late one night.
The fourth time a classmate of theirs passed out, Ashido Mina broke down in tears at her desk and swiftly excused herself to the bathroom so Sero Hanta, with a face drawn tight with uncertainty, delivered Aoyama Yuuga directly to his room. The nurses didn’t want him anymore. Ashido Mina was sent off for a mental health day (and a few sighed, wondering why she got special treatment when no one wanted to be in class, if a bout of tears was all it took to spend the day in bed fiddling with their phone). The rest of Class 1-A got slightly nosy, slightly prodding.
“What's wrong with him?” Kirishima Eijiro asked carelessly, not intentional of course. “This is like, the fourth time.”
“The fourth time that we know of.” Midoriya Izuku added absentmindedly, twirling a pencil around between his fingers.
“It's stress from class, right?” Uraraka Ochako said anxiously, looking down at her desk. “He's probably forgetting to take care of himself and getting sick.”
“Yeah, probably.” Kirishima was satisfied with that answer and discussed some menial topic with Kaminari instead.
Meanwhile, Hagakure Tooru said to Ojiro Mashirao, “Dang, he keeps interrupting class! Mr. Aizawa is off talking to the nurse again… Do you think Aoyama is dying?!”
Ojiro shrugged his shoulders, cold unconcern in his plain face. “No, if he was, why would he still be in school? Perhaps… he's just an insomniac. Nothing worth talking about, I think. More than a few people have trouble staying awake with this sort of course load.”
“I do think he could be terminally ill.” Yaoyorozu Momo stated sadly. “Why else would Mina have cried? She’s probably so upset to see her best friend… growing so sick.”
“Sick? What kind of sickness do you think it could be?” Jirou Kyouka asked nonchalantly, mostly gazing at Momo rather than actually being invested in the topic. She just liked watching the mountain of a girl talk, no matter the subject of interest.
“The list of illnesses affiliated with fatigue goes on and on.” Asui Tsuyu said, flipping through a novel. It was some drab romance novel, surely, she consumed them at a worrying pace and she spoke between the lines on the page. “It's impossible to draw any conclusion not knowing his other symptoms.”
“I wonder if he’ll be alright…” Uraraka said. “It would be horrible if he was sick and didn't tell any of us.”
“If he does die, will that mean we’ll get a new student?” Kaminari pondered aloud.
“Be quiet!” Iida Tenya shouted, drawing startled sounds from the bustling classroom. There was a beat of complete silence. The questions dissipated and they focused solely on the outburst as Iida sat, tensed, clenched fists folded on his desk. “Aoyama Yuuga’s condition is nothing for you all to gossip or debate. Do you all have any idea how utterly disrespectful that is? Please, just be quiet until the teacher comes back.”
“I agree.” Todoroki added, despite having been uninvolved throughout the duration of the discussions concerning their fellow classmates state. He’d been victim to nosiness before, knew how cold it felt to be under a microscope, especially with such typical teenage nonchalance. “If he felt inclined to share with us, he would have. Since he hasn't, it's kinda none of our business.”
“We’re worried.” Midoriya responded, concern clear in his green eyes.
“You're curious.” Mineta Minoru argued from his seat. “There's a difference.”
“Oh, like you and Aoyama are so close!” Hagakure bit out, invisible hands poised on her hips, because really, how the hell did Mineta have any right to jump to Aoyama’s defense, anyone’s, really?
“Tooru,” Ojiro stressed between his teeth.
“We aren’t!” Mineta shouted back with added venom. “I just know when not to stick my nose in other people’s business!
“No, you don't! You're just as morbidly fascinated as everyone else!” Jirou pitched in, always eager to put the pervert in his place, in most every conversation.
Mineta stood on his chair in rage, eyes distraught and looking like a cornered animal. “No, I’m not! There's a fine line between wondering what the hell is going on, quietly, to myself and invading my classmates privacy! Talking about him like we don’t go to school with him everyday, like we couldn’t just ask if we actually cared!” And there was something horribly distressed and visceral in his large eyes, like he knew something they didn’t. He wasn’t stupid, and he knew his classmates weren’t either, so how could they not see what was so clear to him? And how could they of all people, these future heroes, just giggle and chuckle and speculate?
“Listen, you little perv, you don't have the right to speak for him. We’re genuinely concerned, we’re his classmates.” Hagakure said, even though she knew that she really wasn’t. She was sort of just hoping that if the conversation got heated enough, class would be delayed even when Mr. Aizawa returned. It’d happened before and she’d relished in a few more minutes to mess with her phone and tease Ojiro.
“Oh, so you have the right to speak for him?” Bakugou asked in a growling voice, which made everyone fall silent. He never intruded on drama infused discussions, this was strange. “No one gave a good god damn until today, no one except for two people who aren't even in the room right now, so the only thing you all are entitled to do is close your cocksuckers and hope another side character dies off so we can add actual talent to this class.”
Midoriya jumped like he’d been pinched, pupils shrinking. “Kachan!”
“Oh my god- screw off, Deku! You'd rather have the loser who almost kicked your irrelevant ass into oblivion during the Sports Festival here anyway, I’m just saying what everyone's thinking, so hop off my dick. We don't really care about that kid. It's just cruel to pretend that we do.”
The words struck a cord, the mass of students staring Bakugou down, a monolith of acceptance, of boredom. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk for the rest of class. They just talked about things other than Aoyama Yuuga. The teacher returned to the classroom and Sero Hanta didn’t come back. They stopped asking questions. They forget in lieu of more pressing issues, like that whore from Class B who got caught sucking dick, it was what teenagers did best.
The fifth time a classmate of theirs passed out, it wasn't like the first four times.
Ashido Mina didn't move to place him in his dorm or the nurse’s office and minutes passed where everyone just stared. Aoyama Yuuga laid with his face against his desk, looking eerily comatose, not even twitching. A few students began to wonder, Hey, did he die? while others struggled to figure out if they themselves should’ve stood up and carried him to his dorm. Was it worth the painful awkwardness to make a stand? Probably not. They waited, a mass of burning eyes, waited for him to wake up, to stop breathing, to do something worth while.
They all knew at this point, the nurses did not want him. Mr. Aizawa looked nothing less than distraught, which was the strangest sight to see, his bloodshot eyes full of something other than painful exhaustion. Then, Bakugou’s chair was flung out of his desk from the momentum of him standing so aggressively, he stalked over to the unconscious teenager and lifted him up bridal style.
“Stupid anorexic fuck disrupting class,” the explosive student hissed viciously under his breath into the abyss of silence in the classroom as he exited, presumably to drop Aoyama Yuuga off at his room.
The words stuck in their brains, thoughts drifting weightlessly across the room in a frantic sync. Anorexic? What did that mean? Wasn't that when a girl didn’t eat? Wasn’t that when a girl was dangerously skinny? An eating disorder, right? But, only girls had those, right? And what did that have to do with fainting? And was Aoyama even skinny enough? And when was the last time they saw Aoyama shirtless? And was it an appealing sight, the last time they did see? Some of the girls glowed at the thought, some of the boys squashed down the sight with blood in their cheeks.
No one said a thing aloud. Ashido Mina continued taking notes and if her eyes were particularly glossy, no one said a thing aloud. If Sero Hanta had teardrops that warped the ink in his notebook, no one said a thing aloud. If Aoyama Yuuga came to school the next day and they noticed, yeah, his belt was the only thing holding his suddenly baggy pants on him, no one said a thing aloud. If Bakugou Katsuki looked slightly disturbed when he came back to class, no one said a thing aloud. If Mineta Minoru knew his classmate was dying the moment he was able to hold him, no one said a thing aloud. If Ashido Mina couldn't do a thing except watch her friend die, no one said a thing aloud. If Sero Hanta was getting worse by the day, seeming more apathetic, more depressed by the day, no one said a thing aloud. If Aoyama Yuuga was killing himself very, very slowly, no one said a thing aloud.
Because in the end, Bakugou was right ; they didn't exactly care.