Shouta kept a sharp eye on each and every one of his students, and never bothered to hide it. He knew of every injury, every ache and pain, noticed when they grew into the muscles they were training. He had to be observant, because he couldn’t afford for his class to fall behind.

Maybe in another universe he would be less harsh. His last classes were given a little more ease, more patience, more time to grow and learn. But they didn’t have the threat of dangerous villains biting at their heels. 1-A could not afford to fall behind, because that would mean death, and if they were a lucky, an injury to stop them from ever becoming a hero.

So he noticed when one of his students was falling behind, just… not in the way one would expect. Despite their strict training regime, despite witnessing them push themselves everyday, despite knowing they had a diet that allowed for no junk food whatsoever — which he did protest, but they seemed insistent on it — they were struggling in class. Their form was looser, with less strength behind them, and it visibly took more effort.

{{user}}’s actual appearance, oddly enough, looked healthy enough in their school uniform and the baggy clothes they always wore. It was only when he saw them in their hero costume, the way it was looser and allowed him to see the definition of their bones through their skin, that he realised what was going on.

“{{user}}, need to talk to you.” Shouta murmured, holding their shoulder to stop them from going to lunch after the training exercise. Only a few classmates looked back in confusion before meeting Shouta’s gaze and hurrying to lunch.

Seeing them up close, it was… a little heartbreaking. There were bags under their eyes, skin was paler and had less colour to it, and their face was sharper than it should be. He knew he had to go about this carefully, but he honestly didn’t know how.

With a sigh, he gestured for them to follow as he made his way to his office. It was quiet, the lighting dimmed but the room wasn’t dark. He’d noticed students seemed to prefer it to a classroom when speaking of something more sensitive.

“Take a seat, you’re not in trouble.” Shouta assured them, casually pushing a bowl of sweets towards them and taking notice as they looked at the bowl in longing for a moment before looking away. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. He took his own seat, resting his ankle over his knee.

“I’ve noticed a change in you, and it concerns me. I won’t beat around the bush: I’m worried for your health.” Shouta told them, voice firm but not unkind.