Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi

Ok, here we go, been wanting to do an appendicitis story for a while, just now getting around to it. This will be a much shorter fic compared to Every Step of the Way. A bit more laid back, well, when you look at that one, anyway. lol

The day could not come to an end fast enough, but Shota pressed on, leaning against his desk as he filtered through paper after paper. The longer this dragged on, the more irritated he became with the whole thing. Serious? How were some of them still not understanding this? I was fairly certain he had made it more than clear… Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand down his face and slowly released it.

His eyes scanned to the clock. Only a few more minutes and he was home free, it wasn't that bad. All he really wanted to do right now was go home and get to bed. He swore he hadn't gotten enough sleep the previous night, or that's what it had felt like. On and off for the last hour or so, the hero had been getting this, he wouldn't say painful, but more annoying pangs in his abdomen. Of course, now that he thought about it, he hadn't had anything to eat since that morning. That would explain a lot.

Oh well, he could take care of that later, when he got home. That is, if he didn't pass out on call it a night first. As the time ticked on, he noticed he was looking at the clock more and more, as if staring at it would will it to turn faster. It had the opposite effect.

Slinking deeper into his chair, Shota leaned his head back and gazed up at the ceiling, trying not to let his eyes slide shut. He knew if they did, he'd be done for. And after the last time, he learned sleeping on those chairs wasn't the most ideal of sleeping positions. The rest of the time there dragged on, and that minor sensation was beginning to grow into more of gripe for the man. Ok, he had had enough, he wasn't getting any work done anyway, so what was the point of sticking around?

"I'm heading out," he announced, receiving a questionable glance from Hizashi. The blond said nothing, but he watched the other with wary eyes as the man practically dragged his feet out. He knitted his brows and pursed his lips, but shrugged it off. It wasn't the first time he left early.

For the entire walk home, Shota couldn't keep his arm from wrapping around himself. Again, it was nothing too totorous, but it was enough to cause for a decent amount of discomfort. After a while, and much to his relief, the apartments finally came into view, and an involuntary sigh slipped from between his lips.

He kicked off his shoes the moment he was on the other side of the door, wanting nothing more than to faceplant straight onto his bed. Wearily, he dragged a single hand down his drawn features. With each step towards his bedroom, Shota tried his damnedest to will the worsening nausea away. It didn't hit him until towards the end of the day, and it had only been getting less tolerable since. He kept telling himself, over and over, all he needed was a bit of sleep, that's all this was. It made sense, he hadn't been getting a whole lot of it lately; not with all the villain activity here lately.

The hero more or less dragged himself to his bed and, without bothering to even turn off the lights, fell forward onto his mattress. Which, in retrospect, wasn't the best idea he's had. The sudden action did nothing but upset his body more, and he was forced to turn over to his left side. Taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds, soon the discomfort calmed back down enough for him to fully reposition himself to a more reasonable placement.

For a while, what had to have been several minutes, he merely lied there, afraid to so much as twitch for fear of sparking up another bout of that same sensation. Slowly, and it took some time and effort, Shota allowed his eyes to slide shut. Or, well, they were more or less forced shut. But, he got there eventually. That was the first step, next was the actual process of going to sleep, which he knew would take more than a little bit of convincing to accomplish.

To his surprise, it came sooner than he had expected. Though, he wasn't exactly sure when that exact moment was, he was just overwhelmed with thanks that it did. But, of course, the man couldn't just have his night of peace; that was too much to ask for. More than a few times, he was dragged from restless sleep due to the pangs and the revulsion that assaulted him from the inside. Each time that happened, he would simply draw in deep breaths and hold them until it calmed down once again. This was repeated throughout the night, only alleviating it for short periods at a time.

Sooner or later, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or irritated, his alarm sounded out, signalling him to another day of having to push through whatever this ailment was. All Shota could do at this point was pray to himself that it was some twelve hour bug.

Despite the turmoil raging from within, the hero begrudgingly peeled himself from his bed and staggered to his feet, groaning the entire way. Why couldn't it have been a Saturday? Sure, the thought of calling in and just staying in bed crossed his mind more than once, but he was unwillingly reminded of the reason that wasn't a viable option when his fingers glanced over the scar adorning his cheek. That was right, now more than ever it was his and the other teachers' priority to be there for the students and make sure they were more prepared should another attack such as the last occur.

His movements were sluggish and breaths shallow; it was as if everything was working against him this morning. Food was flatout off putting, steps were damn near jarring, and was it just him or was it too warm to be the middle of fall? He shook his head...he was just exhausted or overthinking things. This wasn't the first time things like this had afflicted him, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last either.

Getting dressed took longer than usual, or that's how it felt to him. It was tedious. But, once all was said and done, he was finally able to head out. Hopefully when he really got into the swing of the day, it would help to distract him from all of this upset. Strolling out the door, he slid his hand across the side table and plucked his keys and left the comforts of his apartment behind him.

Each step was unadulterated agony, every footfall sent vibrations of torment up and through his abdomen. Clenching his teeth and stuffing tightly clasped fists in his pockets, the man sped up his pace marginally. Knowing full well it wasn't going to make matters any better. Still, the need to actually get to work on time was the thing that took priority at the moment. This was still taking ages, and nothing could tell him otherwise. If Shota didn't know any better, he would have sworn he wasn't making the slightest bit of progress.

He raised a shaky hand and ran it through his damp locks- he paused momentarily as the moistened feeling fully registered. Slowly, he glanced around at the few people that passed by, all of which were wearing jackets and other warm attire. He thought about that more as he pulled his hand away from his sweat decorated hair.

Shota swallowed thickly, forcing the growing lump of worry down and did what he could to shove the rest of that concern to the back of his mind. 'It's nothing,' he told to himself, picking up his walking once more, albeit a tad slower this time. Trying not to dwell on any of it too much, his eyes soon flicked to the first signs of the school and he permitted his mind to fall into a false sense of ease for now. As long as he told himself it was all a minor hiccup, then it would have to be true. There was no time for anything else other than that.

As he approached closer to the building, a sharp jolt jostled his form when a light touch on his shoulder startled him. "Sonuva…" he muttered, glancing over his shoulder to find a familiar blond strolling casually behind him. Without thinking, his left hand instantly snapped to his side as the abrupt shift brought a new ache with it.

The raven turned just in time to witness Hizashi's face falter. "What?" he asked, an edge of offense in his tone. He didn't intend for it to roll of the tongue in such a way, but with the way his morning was already going, he really wasn't in the best of moods.

The other scanned him up and down, unable to place exactly what to start with...there was a lot that was going through his head. "You okay?" he settled for, maybe generic and vague was the best way to go about this.

Silence…

"I'm fine."

He went to turn around and continue with his obviously unnatural stroll, but Hizashi was having none of that, and he reached out once again. This time, there was force behind the touch as it grasped Shota with the purpose of anchoring him to the spot. There was no way he was going to let him get away with just brushing him off. He knew the guy long enough to know what something was up. And things sure as hell weren't 'fine'.

"Shota...what's wrong?" he questioned again, more serious now. Uneasiness flowed through his words as he set the man with a pleading stare. "I know somethings up...you look like shit."

So blunt.

The dark-haired hero glanced away for a few seconds before dragging his attention back and he blew out a heavy breath. "I told you, it's nothing… I'm just tired," he added when the expression the other bore changed into a daring one. But, it was clear he still wasn't willing to let this go. In fact, it appeared to just fuel his need for answers and assurance a great deal more.

"Really?" the other practically scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "I think you just need to go home. If you feel like anything how you look, then I'm pretty sure coming here isn't the best option."

Without responding, the raven blinked heavily a couple times and turned back around, successfully shrugging the touch away in the process. Taken aback, Hizashi mumbled something incoherent to himself and took a few long strides in order to position himself in the way of the other's path. Perhaps being more aggressive about this was the best way to go.

"Are you seriously just going to ignore me?"

"No, I listened to what you said, I'm just choosing not to listen. That's not ignoring," he corrected, taking a step to round the man. "Now, if you'll excuse me, we're going to both be late...more late than we already are…"

He only took a few more steps before the pains returned with more vehemence and the ill-infused swirling slithered back into his insides. Doing his best to just ride through it, he hadn't realized how much his pace had dwindled until the worst of it had ebbed back away. Maybe it was more than just exhaustion. That didn't change the fact that he couldn't afford to skip days. "How about this," he started, voice as steady as it could be with all the torment plaguing him, "if things don't improve by the time the day is over, then I promise, I'll go get checked out, alright? That good enough for compromise?"

The blond still didn't come across as satisfied, but his shoulders did relax slightly with that being said. "I still think you should go to a doctor now...but that's obviously not going to happen. Not unless I knock you out and drag you there myself," he half joked. "Fine, have it your way...your stubborn and idiotic way," he sighed.

"You worry too much," Shota muttered, but it was void of all playfulness and humor. Almost like a persuasion to himself of sorts. Really...Hizashi was always too concerned about his well-being, sometimes more than he himself was.

For the rest of the walk there, the blond stuck to his side like glue, periodically cutting his eyes over, look and searching for any sort of decline in Shota's health. Like he was expecting him to keel over at any second now. Although Shota found the hovering to be a bit excessive, he didn't comment on it. Then again, he feared that if any concentration was taken away from not hurling, then he wouldn't be able to hold it together any longer. With that in mind, it started to dawn on him just how troublesome this day was going to be once the day really got started. He would manage to, he had no choice but to.

By the time they reached the front doors, he felt safe enough to finally say something about the blond's prying curiosity and fussing over. "Do you plan on following me all the way to my classroom?" he half snapped. Again, it sounded less harsh in his head, but the filter that normally toned things down was out of commission today. The flash of hurt that scurried across the blond's face wasn't unnoticed. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"No, no, I understand. It's obvious you're not feeling well, so it's to be expected."

He may have been brushing it off, a very 'Hizashi' thing to do, but Shota knew him well enough to know better than that. He took a deep breath...he'd apologize properly later, there wasn't time for that now.

"I really have to go now, and I'm sure you do too," he mumbled, using that as a sign for the other to leave him be. The other man simply nodded curtly and offered a low hum as a compliance. One minor wave later, and he was strolling away at last. The moment he was out of sight, Shota allowed his brows to knit in pain as his hand was back at his side, this time fingers curled around the material in an attempt to incline the sharp stabs to wane away.

Just a few steady and careful inhales, and equally gentle exhales, and he was slowly making his way the rest of the way down the hall. Painstakingly, Shota finally made it...about five minutes late, probably the first time he was late, but he was there. That was something, more than he honestly wished to do. Pressing it all down and locking it up deep inside, he straightened up and thrust the door open before strolling in with purpose in his strides.

"Alright, everyone quiet down," he called out, voice slightly strained. He winced internally at that and begged that it got passed them all. However, the fact that Hizashi had so easily and quickly seen through him with a single glance, it didn't bode well for him to be standing before the curious and nosy scrutiny of this bunch.

He could feel it, each individual gaze as they stared at him, scanning him. They knew, he knew they did. There was no doubt in his mind they were aware of everything. 'Talk,' he instructed himself, 'talk before they can start asking questions'.

"As I can imagine, I'm sure...everyone has been a bit-" he cut himself off before the rest of the sentence could flow out, clamped his mouth shut as another wave of nausea invaded...worse than all the others.

'Dammit.'

Shota closed the gap between himself and the podium, both hands gripped it the moment he was close enough as he leaned his head downward, silently begging for it to hurry up and pass. He took a few shallow and patterned breaths, knowing anything more than that would only make it worse. It took a few seconds longer than he would have cared for, but it didn't matter, eventually the feeling fleed and he was given another moment's of relative peace. The pain and sick-feeling was still present, but for now it gave the man his space.

"As I can imagine," he started again, more steady and confident this time around, "I'm sure everyone has been a bit on edge as of late. And, that's understandable."

'Just play it cool,' he told himself, swallowing the swelling lump in his throat. Every time he felt even the least bit at ease, he knew things were bound to return soon after with a vengeance. He had to say what he needed to say and get them all started with the day's task before that could happen.

Already, the sharp stabs were starting to rear their ugly head once more. That sure as hell didn't take long… His face tensed in preparation, but he did what he could to ignore it for the time being. It was alright, it would pass once more like it had been, he just had to wait it out and bear with it. "Keeping that in mind...we will...we will be doing something a l-little different today," he stammered. Shit, it was getting hot on here, a bead of sweat trailed down the side of his neck, and instinctively, he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. He was forced to dip his head down in order to keep it from spinning so much...an inconvenience that was occurring too frequently for his liking.

"A-Aizawa-sensei?" Uraraka questioned, being the only one to speak up. There were a few murmurs among the others after his stuttering, but they instantly fell silent as they awaited his response. Stammering and stumbling over one's words in itself wasn't that strange, btu with everything else...the pallidness of his features, the light sheen of sweat. He honestly looked about ready to keel over on the spot. However, they received nothing more than a raise of the man's hand, urging them to cease anymore questions. This served to do nothing aside from further worry them. No surprise there.

Shota straightened up, teeth biting into his bottom lip and hand clamped over his side. Something was definitely wrong, there was no denying that anymore. He hated to admit it, but Hizashi was right, he needed to see someone about this, and it wasn't a thing that could be put off like he had tried so hard to convince himself of earlier. He didn't care about his pride anymore, he had discarded that the moment the piercing torment was back at it, and no longer was it holding back.

His free hand released its hold on the podium to instead search his pocket for his phone. But, that was nearly impossible with the tremors that ran down his arm, impairing his ability to actually grab the device. Just as his finger tips glanced over the slick surface, bile was burning the back of his throat as beads of sweat trailed down the side of his face.

Breaths were coming in hasty pants and his heart thrummed unrhythmically against his ribs. Then there was the ringing, it was subtle, teasing the outskirts of his hearing, but it was progressively growing louder and more blaring by the second. It was almost enough to overwhelm the horrified chorus of the students as they chimed in one after another.

"Are you alright?"

"Do you need us to get someone?"

"Aizawa-sensei?"

All these questions seemed to flood at once, and with a lack of a better answer, he instinctively blurted out. "I'm fine." But it was forced between tightly bared teeth. To make matters worse, speaking at all proved to be a fatal mistake. There was no holding it back anymore, and he was already feeling the intolerable shame before he even made it to the trash can. On the bright side, he could no longer hear the student's concerned words over the sounds of his own retching. But, on the other side, he could feel them starting to grow closer, all of them desperate to help in whatever way they could.

Still, there was one thing he could hear of the bunch. He had no idea who had gave the order, but it was loud and painfully clear. "Someone, go get help!" He wanted nothing more than to try and reassure them, but that was long gone out the window. It didn't matter what he said at this point, there was nothing he could say that would put them at ease.

Minutes could have passed for all he knew, but no matter how much time had gone by, nothing seemed to be getting better. But, he couldn't stay down there like that. Nothing was even coming up anymore; the least he could do was try to stand. However, the moment he did, more than one pair of hands were on him, urging him not to move. Much to his annoyance, he glanced over his shoulder to look to them all...or he was sure he was looking at them, it was hard to tell with the way things were blurring and meshing into one.

"Please…-tay dow-" His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what they were saying, but nothing was making any sense. What the hell was happening? He couldn't process anything, only that his side was in the worst agony he had ever suffered and the rest of him was on fire. The voices still swam around him and it was becoming more and more difficult to place them or figure out where they were coming from.

Then, there was one that entered the fray, one that he could easily pluck out from all the others. As the new arrival took over, all the others backed away, leaving just the two of them there alone. Though, he could still vaguely make out their forms in the back. He wanted to talk, to ask what was happening, but he wasn't sure anything coherent was coming out. Fingers combed through his hair, raking the strands out of his face as the other spoke; it took him a few moments to realize they weren't words meant for him.

"Hurry," was the only bit that he was sure he heard. What was left of his lucidity was able to piece that much together...someone was calling for help, it was the only thing he could think of that made a lick of sense.

Once the call was over, two hands were on either side of his face, turning it to look at them. As Shota stared through a hazy gaze, the features were finally coming into place. It wasn't needed though, he already knew it was Hizashi, he knew the moment he was next to him. For a while, he merely stared, holding what little contact he could while he could because, as far as he could tell, he was literally dying right there on the floor - the floor, when did that happen? -, right in front of all of them. And what a way to go, crumpled on the ground next to a bin full of your own vomit. If he weren't in so much pain, he would have found it slightly humorous.

It was ridiculous, really. Out of everything, this is what he was most concerned about? One of the hands traveled to the back of his head to raise it slightly, pulling him out of his momentary thoughts and he was reminded of the others that were still gathered around. The ones that were fading more out of focus by the second.

He regretted everything now, regretted going home last night instead of getting checked out instantly, but at the time, the idea had never crossed his mind. He regretted getting up and coming to work when things were worse. But, more than any of those, he deeply regretted brushing off the blond's concerns when it was clear how worried he was. He was right, he was so goddamn right.

For a split second, and that fraction of a moment alone, Hizashi's features were clear, too clear. He wished he didn't have to see the expression on his face, so filled with fear and nothing else. It hurt. Everything was escaping him swiftly now, and it was only a matter of time before it was all gone completely, and he was afraid this was his only chance to say anything before it was all over. His dark gaze never drifted from the blond as he uttered the words he thought to be his last:

"I'm sorry."

Let me know what you thought. And, a disclaimer, I am not a doctor or anything, all my information as thanks to research.