The Traitor in Our Midst (rewrite)

Part 5

It had been two weeks since Nezu's death. The school had decided to continue with classes for a sense of normalcy, with the exception of one day canceled for the funeral. All Might had been nominated as the interim principle until UA's staff could decided who should replace Nezu permanently.

Aizawa sat at his desk, trying to focus on grading his papers. It was proving difficult- his head was pounding, his stomach hurt, and his thoughts kept wandering away.

When he had found Nezu, the small man had still been alive, but just barely. He had tried to speak, but died in Aizawa's arms. The pro hero could still smell the stench of burned flesh...

It was too much, and Aizawa barely made it to his classroom trashcan before throwing up. Thankfully it wasn't a class period right now. He'd been sick for almost a week and a half now.

Someone knocked at the door, and Aizawa barely had time to stand back up before Mic burst in. "Hey babe! I brought you lunch-

Mic stopped, his face falling. "You're sick again. Why don't you take a half day and go home?" He came closer and folded Aizawa into a hug, letting the dark haired man rest his head on his shoulder. "Everyone would understand, you know." Mic whispered, a consoling contrast to his usual booming voice.

"Mmph. Can't. We're short staffed now that All Might's not teaching, so Midnight and I are switching off for his classes. Today's my turn." Mic pulled back and nodded.

"I get it. I grabbed your lunch from the breakroom for you, just in case you felt like eating." Mic wrinkled his noise in annoyance. "Someone broke into the fridge again. They took my soda! Your stuff is all there though. Midnight thinks that it might be a hungry student or something. Anyway, I gotta go. See you after your class gets out."

Aizawa leaned in for a kiss, and Mic opted to plant one on his cheek instead of his lips. "Save that for when you feel better."

Class 1-A filed in soon after Mic left. Aizawa's head still ached, so he instructed the class to do group activities and opened his fruit pouch. Two sips in, he took the opening of the pouch out of his mouth- what was that weird taste? There was something strangely foul to it. Maybe it was expired? A quick look at the label nixed that possibility. Well, whatever, it was probably just a bad pouch. Aizawa shrugged and tossed it in the trash.

Or tried to. His fingers were suddenly numb, and his arm spasmed, making the eraser hero simply drop the pouch at his side. He felt... weirdly fuzzy? His mind was getting hazier and hazier.

"Mr. Aizawa?" Asui had looked from her textbook and was now staring quizzically at her teacher. "Is everything alright?"

Aizawa swayed, and the last thing he heard was the alarmed shouts of his students before everything went black.