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Middle school is hard. Most people, when they say that, they're just complaining. For Izuku, he really means it. He wishes more people would listen when he tells them that, but they don't. Of course they don't.. He's quirkless, why would they? They don't care. It's always been like that.There's a social hierarchy. Those who have ‘heroic quirks’, those who have ‘weak quirks’, then the ‘villainous quirks’, and those who are quirkless. They're the bottom of the bottom. They have nothing to fall back on, only themselves. Most quirkless people don't live past 9. There's few quirkless people, mainly those who’re from the older generation; unfortunately, they still receive discrimination. The statistics posted online that most have seen are inaccurate, something that's not reliable now.Izuku is one of the only people his age who is quirkless and alive; because of this, besides the people who know him, most wouldn't think he was quirkless when they see him in stores or walking the streets. That's really the only reason he's made it this far. Most people who’re recognized as quirkless get beat up, or raped in some of the worser cases.He's heard of what people do to quirkless kids. Just the other day he read an article of a little girl who was brutally raped and tortured. Just so the people could, ‘Figure out how much a quirkless body could handle’. The little girl was only 7.Izuku has been in middle school for only a year, yet, all his classmates went from verbally assaulting him to physically assaulting him. The verbal assault he could handle, the physical assault hurt a lot more. Now not just his mental health was suffering, but also his physical health; and it's not like he could go to a doctor. Nobody would treat him the second someone finds out he's quirkless. It was hard for him to find ways to cover up the injuries so his mom didn't find out. He's not sure what his mom would do if she found out. She’d probably bombard him with questions till he told her who did it.. He couldn't do that to Kacchan. Kacchan needs to be a hero, the best. Just like they said when they were younger.. If he gets in the way of that he'd never forgive himself. He's sure Kacchan will make an amazing hero as long as he keeps his distance and doesn't get in Kacchan's way.Today was Sunday, a day till the new year at his school starts. He didn't do much on the weekends, not having many friends. His dad isn't around much because of his job and his mom works a lot of double shifts. She's a nurse. It isn't like his dad is never in his life, just not very much. He hears his mom and dad talking on the phone sometimes, they just don't really care to include him. They say he's too young. He's 11, almost 12, not 5. Most of the things they talk about aren't even bad, a lot of it is just them catching each other up on stuff. He wonders if they just don't really want to talk to him, but that couldn't be right… They love him, right?A Lot of Izuku's time is spent in his room, drawing. He draws because he wants to make his analysis more detailed. He recently saw some kind of hero, or was it a vigilante? Maybe a villain?, outside his window last week. They were perched up on a rooftop, surveying the city. They looked really cool, they had a scarf around their neck that seemed to be floating around them. He got flustered when they looked towards his window, though. Causing him to quickly shut the blinds and hide under his blankets. It was extremely embarrassing to get caught staring. They probably thought he was some kind of creep. Maybe it was some kind of underground hero? He knew very little about those kinds of heroes, only that most of them stayed away from reporters and media, not really favoring the attention.He kind of admired underground heroes for that reason, he knew some limelight heroes were only in it for fame and attention. Not really caring whether or not people were safe, just that the people they saved would make them more popular. Don't get him wrong, he knew not all heroes were like that, just some.To do hero work and know you wont get any recognition is admirable. Ever since he learned about underground heroes he tried looking into them more, mainly only finding information on retired underground heroes due to the fact that the active ones had to hide their presence. Which.. makes sense. He mostly wanted to learn about the aspects of doing underground work anyways.Surprisingly, he likes it. Alot; maybe a little more than limelight.. but.. he has to be a limelight hero, right? That's what everyone his age wants to be, so he should want it.. right? He wonders how he'd even be a limelight.. He doesn't really like the attention. The only times he gets attention is when people are picking on him or the teacher purposefully calls on him in class knowing he wouldn't know the answer to the question.He wonders what would happen if he went underground. Do they help more people? He should look into it more. He types some different keywords onto the computer, looking through different articles that pop up when he comes across one in specific; the author being anonymous. He clicks on it out of pure curiosity. The way the sentences are formed and the words used obviously gives away the fact that this article was written by someone who's completely sure they've got the facts right.Judging by the fact Izuku has little knowledge about the subject of this type of hero, he clicks on it. Hoping it really was written by someone who does know the subject well, and doesn't just have a massive ego. He starts reading through it, a bit surprised at all the facts written out, even side notes about missions that started underground before going public. Even going as far as linking videos to the side notes of the news footage to said cases. He right clicks every link and opens them in new tabs to go back on and watch later. He also takes his notebook out, looking at it.He continues to look at it for a few seconds before grabbing a brand new notebook that he keeps on hand in case he finishes the one he currently has and labels it, “Underground analysis”. He should probably keep this notebook at home, away from other people. He doesn't want it ending up in the wrong hands, who knows what would happen if someone got ahold of it. Maybe he’ll make a code? Isn't making a whole other language hard, though? Maybe another time.For now, he goes back to reading the article. So far, he knows that the underground missions normally consist of underground heroes, twilight heroes, and on rare occasions, undercover limelight heroes. Most of the time there's undercover cops too. That’s already a difference between limelight missions and underground missions, police are rarely seen around limelight missions, people say its too dangerous for them to go on those missions. He briefly wonders if underground heroes would have better relationships with the cops because of this.He continues reading, the article mentions some twilight heroes he's aware of, such as Nighteye and Moth. Moth was a hero that debuted a few years ago, straight out of U.A. He only knows of them since Moth had done an interview on their support of the different communities and different types of cultures, even supporting small and poor businesses in the area Izuku lives in. Nighteye used to be All Might's side-kick before starting his own agency. Nighteye would be considered a limelight if it wasn't for the fact that nobody knows what missions his agency does on top of the fact Nighteye does not appear in public often. One of the only things people know is he used to be All Might's side-kick and now he's not. Not much other information is known. He reads some more of the article, once again stopping and analyzing the format used, as well as the structural sentences. It seems familiar to him for some reason. The way each paragraph is written seems traditional, but also seems too informal to be traditional. There's no metaphors or ratios. All just straight facts through and through. It's almost off putting. If someone's writing is off putting, imagine how uncomfortable it'd be to talk to them in person. Even the side notes have perfect grammar and straight facts.He ignores this for now, putting his notebook in front of him and starting to write in it. He goes as into detail as he can, not wanting to leave anything out. He doesn't want to have to keep referencing the article every time he wants to remember something. He knows the layout of his notes better to the point he always knows where to find something whenever he needs to remember something.He wonders where the person the article was made by even got the information about the underground heroes.. He wishes they were not anonymous, maybe he'd find other articles made by them for different information he needed. The way everything in this article is written makes it easier for him to take notes on everything. The article does not constantly backtrack or go back on a subject once it's passed, everything that's written on a subject is written in the first part before it switches to another subject. He's grateful for this, he’s read articles where they constantly jump from topic to topic before going back to a topic that was mentioned already. It disorganizes his notes, he hates reading articles like that.After he's read the article, watched the videos he had saved for later, and taken notes on everything. He clicks out of the tabs and leans back, reading over his notes. He had learned the way missions normally happened, how they came to be a mission, how a hero was assigned to a mission, what criteria a mission had to meet for it to be underground and a little about how to become an underground hero. There was a way for him to become one if he went to U.A!What is he thinking? He wants to be limelight, right? Everyone would just make fun of him more if they knew he was even considering becoming underground in the first place. Everyone his age thinks you have to be in the spotlight.. shouldn't he too? But, underground heroes did the dirtier work, they did the missions that the public would consider the “Ugly side of heroics”. Such as human trafficking, gory murder scenes, organizations, taking care of drug warehouses, drug busts, etc.But, if there's no one to do that stuff.. Who would save the people who are in situations like that? Society relies on the underground parts of heroics whether or not they know it. If no one was there to do the dirty work, who would? Plus, there most likely isn't a lot of underground heroes, actually, he opens his notebook and turns to a page, there isn't. Majority of underground heroes quit because of mental strain of seeing the darker parts; or they die.Izuku isn't sure he could take it if he had to watch someone die in front of him, not being able to save them. He isn't sure he could handle that.. maybe.. he’ll stick to limelight. Ugh! He can't decide. He flips back to an empty page, starting a list, “Pros and Cons of working in limelight”, he flips to another page, “Pros and Cons of working underground”.He starts with writing out the pros to limelight, then the cons. Then he switches to the other page, doing the same. He's sure he'll add to it more when he thinks about it. He has technically two more years of middle school since his second year only starts tomorrow.Speaking of which, he looks at the time and winces. It's late, really late. He should be getting to sleep. Hopefully he’ll wake up to his alarm tomorrow, he looks at his schedule on the other side of his desk, looking over the teachers and subjects. Right, he starts English this year. His worst subject, and it's his first class so he’ll have the same teacher for homeroom, great. He wonders if Kacchan will be in his class again?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Today was Izuku’s first day of his second year of middle school. It's safe to say he's nervous. He's not sure he wants to go back to heading home in pain, praying nothing is broken. He hasn't had to deal with any broken bones yet, but he's definitely not equipped to deal with it at all. All he has is his first aid kits, nothing more. His mom has some medical books on the bookshelf in the living room but everything he reads wouldn't be able to tell him how to treat a broken bone without some kind of equipment.He walks to the classroom, holding a piece of paper that has his schedule on it while he's walking to make sure he goes to the right classes. His anxiety is through the roof, way more than usual. What if his entire class makes fun of him right off the bat? At least with his old classroom they gave him a week before they did anything.Everyone in his school knows he's quirkless. It's a fact, just like how the moon comes and goes every night, Izuku Midoriya is quirkless and will never be anything more than that. He’s a hero wannabe who’ll end up in the local newspaper headlines for another suicide added to the outdated statistic. Another “tragedy”, for people to milk sympathy out of. Everybody will claim to have been his friend and to have cared deeply for him. Anyone who doesn't do that would just throw the newspaper away, wondering why they would even cover a story so completely useless. “He just couldn't handle being nothing anymore, knowing he was useless and powerless against the inevitable”, the headlines would say in big black font.Despite what everyone says, Izuku still holds onto that thread of hope, the small childhood dream that still claws at the edge of his brain, begging to be fulfilled. The small flame that might never go out no matter how many people dump water on it, no matter how many times the floods of words try to make the embers disperse. No matter how many times he had almost given up, tried to snuff out all the oxygen from the coals. The ashes will always come back to the coal, the lighter will always reignite that flame. The small stubborn flame will never give up, it never leaves.Izuku looks up from his paper, catching the explosion by the front of the room. He knows that explosion anywhere, he sees it when he closes his eyes. Or when he finally takes his shirt off to change and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, seeing the starburst shapes of the burns those explosions caused. So beautiful, despite the pain behind them; the story, the betrayal. Most people would say they're ugly, not unlike the one who has to wear such scars. Izuku has always found beauty in them. He finds beauty in things most don't often. A Lot of people think scars are hot, or cool, or make you look like a criminal. Izuku doesn't really think about where the scars are, or really how they make a person look. He cares about the story.If he saw the scars he had on himself, on another person; he'd immediately want to know the story. How did someone create such a beautifully distressed thing? The scars he has on his back, chest and shoulders are the first things he looks at when he catches glimpses of the plain, less-than eye catching body that is himself. He can't help it, they're stars in a map of his body. If he connected them with a string or a mark of a pen it'd be like a constellation shaped as a rough explosion. It's perfect considering where the scars came from.Izuku looks past the blond hair, looking at the chalkboard that has the seating chart before sighing and going to his respective seat in the back. He doesn't like being in the back of the classroom, he can't hear all too well and the teacher only puts him there so he doesn't, “Disrupt class”. Izuku isn't sure when he suddenly started not being able to hear at the back of the classroom, it wasn't always like that; before, he could hear just fine. He only started to notice when his teacher would start class and he’d look up to realize the teacher's lips were moving but he couldn't hear much more than a few words here and there. He tries his best to listen regardless, he just pays a bit more attention than before.When Izuku tried telling the teacher they claimed he was just trying to go up there so he could disrupt others. They said that he could hear just fine, he just wanted attention. Or they'd say that he shouldn't fake having a problem that real people have just for sympathy. He shouldn't be milking sympathy for others just because they can achieve things he can't. He wishes they'd just listen to him and not hate him for things he can't control.He steals a glance at the blond headed kid that he's known since he was young, who used to know all of Izuku's secrets, who still knows one of his biggest one. He thinks about how different it would be if he had a quirk, how different his relationship with Kacchan would be and how different people would treat him. Would they like his personality? Was he just unlikable no matter what? Was it his fault?“-ey! Hey!” he shakes his head, red eyes now staring back at him. “What are you staring at creep? Got something to say?” Izuku flinches, immediately looking down at his desk. Causing him to miss the look of slight concern, with a little bit of confusion, before it gets completely erased from the face of its wearer. It's only him and two other people here. He gets slightly lost in his thoughts again before he looks at the door as more people come in. It's Haruka and Ikari.Haruka was a delinquent. He's rumored to be in a gang but Izuku doesn't know that for sure. Haruka was supposed to be in highschool by now, in his second year, but he doesn't care a lot about school so he's been held back a lot. Ikari was supposed to be a third year in middle school but once Haruka and Ikari met, Ikari got behind on his grades and got held back too. Ikari started following Haruka around and they got into loads of trouble and fights all the time. They constantly pick on Izuku and other lower classmen, making everyone call them “Upperclassmen '', since they were older. They also do a lot of drugs, bragging about it to basically anyone who asks. Rumors have it that Haruka got a tattoo to represent the gang he's in, on his shoulder blade. They pick on Izuku a lot, from calling him names to shoving and pushing him around. He hopes they don't do worse this year just because he's in the same class as them now.Haruka immediately locks eyes on Izuku, going up to him and slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Hey! How’d ssssummer break treat ya’? Make any new friendssss?” Haruka asks, his snake-like tongue barely a few centimeters away from Izuku's face. Ikari walks to the other side of Izuku's desk, patting Izuku's shoulder.“C’mon! Don’t be like that Haruka! We know he hasn't, no need to pretend to be nice now.. I'm sure the rest of his classmates don't give a shit about him anyways! Who would?” Ikari gets closer to Izuku's face, his hand creating a web substance. Izuku starts shaking a little, trying to back his face away while clearing his throat.“U-Uh.. We-”Haruka interrupts him, “Did we sssay to ssspeak? We don't want your quirklessss germss getting all over usss. Don't ssspeak to usss,” Haruka pushes Izuku out of his seat, dumping the contents of his bag out all over him. “Oopsss,” Ikari laughs, walking to his seat a row away, talking idly to Haruka.Izuku sighs before getting up and slowly putting everything back into his bag. He had hoped that they wouldn't be in his class. It was bad enough when they messed with him during lunch last year, but it's just his luck that they're in his class. He double checks his bag to make sure he didn't lose anything before jumping when he realizes the teacher is already at the front of the class. He scrambles to get into his seat, straining his ears to try and hear what is being said to no success. He supposes he’ll have to go along with whatever the teacher writes on the board and hope for the best. He's glad the teacher didn't notice him, or anyone for that matter. He doesn't feel the red eyes staring at him, telegraphing his every move.This time, it's the bell that jolts Izuku from his thoughts, even though his hearing is slowly deteriorating, he can always pick up the sharp shrill of the bell and the vibrations it causes his desk to have. When did he start noticing vibrations? Izuku packs everything up off his desk and walks to the cafeteria, looking inside before quickly crossing that off the agenda and heading to the roof instead. He brought a granola bar just in case, he’ll be fine.He walks up to the rooftop, going up to the fence and looking down on the city. The rooftop has a fence all the way around it, about 6 feet tall by the way he's much smaller than it. He looks around at all the buildings, the people walking the street and the cars driving by. He barely registers opening a granola bar and starting to eat it, too lost in his thoughts to really pay much attention. Here he is, being ungrateful for the life he has. He's alive, which is rare for quirkless people like him. He’s not being abused, or tortured, or raped. Which a lot of people like him are right now. He can't help but feel guilty.He wants to help people that other people won't help. He wants to be the one to help them when no one else will. He knows what it's like to need help and be scared to reach out for it because you know you won't receive it anyways. He wants to make a difference and save those who have been failed. He looks down onto the city again.He loves the rooftops. Well not the rooftops in specific, just the view. He also likes the wind in his face, his face closer to the sky. Seeing everything below. He likes the way he can see everything around him, how nothing can get him if he was high enough, if he was flying. He wishes he could fly. He hasn't thought a lot about what quirk he would have if he could have one, but if he had a wing quirk he thinks he would be happy. He could just fly away whenever he wanted, whenever he needed some peace from all his problems. Even though having the quirk in the first place would take care of most of the problems anyways.Would he have pretty green wings? Maybe he'd have just plain white wings, like a swan, though, even if they're plain; they're still beautiful. Or maybe like pigeon wings. What if he could fly without wings? Like levitation. That'd be cool, levitation is similar to his moms telekinetic quirk; she can pull things towards her, only small things though. He could fly at night above all the lights and the busy people with their busy jobs while the wind blows in his face and hair, he could fly across the world and visit so many different places. With a quirk he could be so useful, he wouldn't just be a useless thing anymore, something other than someone who takes up spaces that other, more worthy people could be taking. He would actually mean something to someone, or maybe multiple someone's. With a quirk like that, he could be Kacchan's friend again and hang out with him, they could be the best hero duo in the world. He would be able to save people and maybe his mom could take less shifts at work. He could finally have a conversation with her again. He wants to fly so he could prove to be something, he could prove that the embers of his dying dream may burst into the flames they once were while he can finally fulfill them.He really wants to fly someday.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Izuku had spent his entirety of his afternoon classes staring out the window rather than actually paying attention to the work. He had tried a few times to pay attention but couldn't. He knew how important it was for him to pay attention to the work he needed to learn but every time he looked at his paper his mind would blank. He knew this stuff already anyways, maybe it was the fact he read a lot of the books laying around as a kid, maybe the teachers just picked the wrong things to give him. He isn't sure.Izuku spent a lot of his free time as a kid drawing, analyzing what he could, and reading his moms old school books. His mom used to be homeschooled when she was young so she had a shit ton of textbooks. She never bothered getting rid of them, she didn't want to get rid of them then end up needing them in the long run so she kept them. Izuku didn't have any friends growing up after Kacchan had stopped being friends with him. He was a quirkless, why would anyone want to be friends with someone who had to be the most boring person in the world? It was fine, he learned a lot of stuff.He learned it all at his own pace too. That was the only reason he had kept himself entertained. He doesn't know exactly how many grades of school he learned through those books but it couldn't have been that many, right? He doesn't think he's some kid genius or anything. Just a kid who had way too much time on his hands and got bored relatively easy.The only downside to learning a bunch of stuff early was that now everything in school was easy for him. He thought it would be different this year since he moved up a grade. He thought maybe he just learned everything there was to the first year of middle school and that was it. He figured there was no way he could have learned that much stuff. He felt like he was being egotistical, he felt like he was putting himself up too much. He couldn't be smarter than everyone, especially not Kacchan. Kacchan will always be better than him, no matter what. He'll always be smarter, stronger, faster, better in everything. He couldn't be smarter than Kacchan, it isn't physically possible.Since he didn't get anything done in the second half of the day, his teacher told him it was homework. He didn't really care, he knew he'd get it done in a few hours anyways.Izuku looked around the class after he was done packing his stuff, grateful that everyone had already left. He started on his way out of the school, taking a bunch of different paths to try and avoid any routes his fellow classmates might take. Last time he ran into someone on his way home he almost got run over by a car since they pushed him into the street. They ran away before he could even see who it was.He looked up to the sky, watching the birds fly and the wind blow in the trees. He loved the sky, has he mentioned that? He spots an old park he used to go to, looking around he finds no one, other than a few kids playing. He walks over to a tree and sits in the shade of it. He leans his head against the tree and closes his eyes. Taking in the sun and fresh air after a long day at school. Just before he was about to take his stuff out of his bag he looks to his side as he hears a little noise, coming face to face with someone.“Gah! Wh- So-Sorry!?” he jolts back, going wide-eyed and staring at the stranger. They've got purple irises with white pupils. It was kinda.. cool. His eyes wander to the rest of his face.The stranger looks at him, furrowing their eyebrows and scooting away from him a little, they seem uncomfortable. They raise their hands and start making signals that Izuku doesn't recognize at first. He stares at the stranger's movements for a second before they register in his head, its sign language.“O-Oh.. Why am I here? Sorry! Was this your spot? I-I didn't know..” The stranger tilted their head, kinda like a cat. They hesitantly raised their hands to sign again.‘It's not like I own the tree or anything. I just don't see a lot of people as old as you here’, The stranger pauses for a second before continuing, ‘you know sign?’ Izuku laughs in his head, the way they signed it seemed kinda rude, but he understood what they meant. Why was he, a teenager, in a park for little kids? The stranger kept their body tense, almost like they're ready to run any moment. He knows that feeling all too well, his body being tense himself.“I didn't mean to bother you.. I'm here to work on schoolwork. It's nice outside, and i-it's refreshing. I've known sign since I was young; if you want me to leave I can,” Izuku keeps his eyes on the stranger, telegraphing their every movement just as the stranger is doing to him.The stranger raises their hands up to sign. ‘It's fine, like I mentioned before, it's not my tree.’Izuku stares at him for a bit before nodding and leaning against the tree again, taking his schoolwork out and putting it against a textbook so he has a hard surface. He reads over the paper a little before immediately starting to fill out the answers. It's just as he thought before, it's easy. He wishes they would give him something more challenging. He'd have to make sure to dumb down his answers a little, he wants to at least pass. If he's doing too good they'll just mark him as a 0 and move on. If he gets average then they are more likely to at least pass him. He can't get into U.A if they keep marking him down.He can feel the stranger look at him every once in a while, it's a little unnerving but the stranger seemed nice enough. When he first took in the strangers appearance, the first thing he noticed were their eyes, the shade of purple that they were and the silver white pupils. They also looked to have some kind of muzzle on. He would've asked about it but he didn't want to anger the other. Sometimes muzzles are put on those with blood quirks or those who have a hard time controlling their quirk, most of the time it's consensual as they don't want to accidentally harm others. He hopes the muzzle on him was something the stranger consented to. Muzzles can hurt. It didn't seem too tight or anything and he didn't see any kind of lock, the stranger also didn't seem in pain. Hopefully he's right.Him and the stranger sit in silence for around two more hours before the stranger gets up and leaves; before they walk out of view they turn back towards him. At first Izuku thought they changed their mind about beating him up and somehow found out he was quirkless, and was about to come back before the stranger hesitantly waved at him a little. He let a small smile cross his face before he waved back as the stranger left.He thought they were nice, maybe they'd be willing to be his friend? No, what is he thinking? They obviously don't know he's quirkless. That's the only reason they were being nice to him. They wouldn't even go near him if they knew.He sighs, looking up at the orange and purple sky. He looks around at the school supplies he has laying around then he looked at his finished assignments. He stands up and collects everything, setting it in his bag and making his way out of the park. He might come back someday, it seems like a nice enough area and it isn't far away from his house. He gets lonely at his house sometimes.He feels terrible whenever he gets lonely. He knows his mom works more hours to support both of them, he doesn't know how much nurses make but he knows that there must be a reason his mom works so much. And it isn't like she hits him or is an alcoholic and it's not like she doesn't care. He may not get anymore home cooked meals like he used to when he was little but maybe that's just what happens when you grow up. He might not get to go to the store with his mom and pick out new clothes or little trinkets but maybe she just doesn't have the time. He has a few different outfits that used to be his dads that fit him anyways. He might've had to dig through his moms closet to find them but maybe she didn't know he was growing out of his old clothes.It wasn't like he was big for his age, he was actually very small. Maybe she just forgot since he fit into his other clothes for so long, it's okay. He understands. He doesn't have the worst luck in the world, he should be grateful, it could be much worse. For some people his age, it is much worse. At least he gets to go to school, and he has a roof over his head, his own room, a bed, clothes, food, even if he has to make meals for himself. He has parents too, it's not like he doesn't.He may not see his parents a lot but that's okay, some kids see their parents less than others. It may have been over two months since he had a conversation with his mom but that's okay too since he doesn't really remember how to hold a conversation anyways. He knows his mom isn't lonely, he's seen her on the phone with Auntie Mitsuki and his dad. She's also a very friendly person, he's sure she has plenty of coworkers who talk to her as well. He's sure that his mom is a good mom and he's glad she has a good life. They don't live in poverty and he never gets too badly hurt.. So why is he being ungrateful?Why does he want more? Why isn't this enough for him? It's not like he's special, he's not entitled to more. Maybe he just wants a hug from his mom every once in a while or maybe he wants to have the chance to see his dad but he hasn't been dealt the worst hand in life, he should just suck it up.Izuku is lost in his thoughts all the way home. By the time he walks through his front door and locks it he's running through the house to the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him after he throws his backpack through his open bedroom door. He rummages through the cabinet under the sink before pulling out a box he hasn't touched since last month. He promised he wouldn't do it anymore. He sits on the ground of the bathroom, setting the box down and opening it with shaky hands. He promised. He's not sure he can do it, he's not sure he can betray a promise he made to himself a month ago.He had tried it some time ago, if only to ease his urges a little; it had been better than the alternative. He promised. He gently grazes his hands across the cold metals in the box, taking one out and taking the jacket of his uniform off. He promised. He holds the cool metal up to his skin. He promised. Even after all this time, he still remembers how to do it like it's habit. Maybe it is. He promised. He knows where not to let the metal touch and where it's safe to let it touch. He promised. No veins. He promised. Not too deep. He promised. Don't get carried away. He promised. Only 5. He promised.The cool metal hits his skin, leaving a stinging pain behind. Although it hurts, his mind is much clearer, his thoughts are returned to their normal speed.He's so ungrateful.He promised.
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It's late in the evening by the time Izuku picks himself up off the bathroom floor and cleans up everything. He comes out of the bathroom around 9pm to make himself something to eat. He looks through the cabinets and nothing stands out to him. He knows he should eat, he only had a granola bar today and didn't eat yesterday but he's just not hungry. The guilt of everything he just did in the bathroom is too much. He promised himself he wouldn’t do anything like that anymore. It would jeopardize his future at U.A, it could kill him.He knows that he hasn't been keeping track of his diet very well. He'll skip multiple meals at a time and go to bed hungry more often than not. It's not like it's on purpose.. He thinks. Well, he doesn't really know if it's on purpose or not. It's not like he's doing it to hurt himself, or punish himself.It's just, Kacchan is so much leaner and stronger than him, and when he sees Kacchan he can't help but feel a little insecure about his body. Kacchan looks like he belongs in a magazine and he looks like he belongs in a hospital. People have told him before that he's so skinny he looks sickly. He's not sure he believes them, he feels like he still weighs too much despite what they say.He doesn't know when he really started subconsciously skipping meals. It's not like he's starving himself or anything so it should be fine, he just doesn't eat as much as a doctor would recommend. It's not like there's anyone there to stop him from what he's doing anyways. He's tried eating more; every time he does, he starts feeling sick like he's about to throw up. He doesn't want to eat the food if he's just going to throw it up, it's a waste. That food could go to his mom, or his dad if he ever comes home from his work. And it's a waste of money! His mom used to tell him when he was a kid that they didn't have a lot of money, that's why he didn't have as many toys as the other kids. Or why they couldn't afford for his dad to go on a plane and come back, so maybe if he ate less, his mom would have to buy less food. Then he could see his dad sooner.A quirkless person like him is a burden already, why should he be eating food that could go to his loving, amazing mother anyways. As long as he's eating enough to survive he’ll be fine.It isn't like he's suicidal. He doesn't want to die. His mother doesn't deserve that, she's told him how she loves him and would be heartbroken if anything happened to him. That's why she doesn't let him do any sports or let him spend a lot of time out of the house, she's worried something will happen to him. He couldn't do that to a woman who loves him so much, it'd be cruel.Instead of eating something, he goes back to his room. He'd rather spend a little time analyzing things than eating before bed anyways, that way he can be productive. Maybe he should work on a code now? He opens his notebook and flips to an empty page. If he's going to analyze underground heroes the best he can, he'll have to write their weaknesses too. If that gets into the wrong hands that could be the end of whatever hero they read about, and it would be all his fault. He won't let that happen, he won't be the reason someone gets hurt. That's not what heroes do, and he's going to be a hero.He opens his laptop, typing some different keywords into the search bar and looking through examples of different codes. Maybe he'll make up some kind of morse code? If he ever has someone to share his things with he could do a vocal code as well. Like, clicks or knocks. He’ll use slashes for spaces on writing and dots for the clicks.He starts writing some basic phrasing in his notebook, such as the alphabet, basic words to go with each letter like A for Apple and B for Box, things like that. Then he started learning how to write and vocally express some names he already knows. Like ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ and ‘Kacchan’. Maybe he'll make a special name for Kacchan, like how he has a sign name for him. He knows he may never share this code with anyone, and he doesn't have any friends to show it to now but maybe someday he will. He wants to be prepared. He'll have to hide this notebook somewhere safe, somewhere where nobody will find it no matter what. Nobody but him.He spends another hour coming up with some more basic wording for his code when he gets an idea. What if he made the sentence structure different too? That way, if someone figures out the words and the phrases, it'll all be jumbled up. On paper, it'll just look like a bunch of words. Like if someone decoded the code word by word and wrote it down it would come out like, “You how are? Up tonight meet?” but when you know the code you know it means, “How are you? Meet up tonight?” he'll have to think of ways to do that. It'll be foolproof. To decode just the words is a feat on its own, but if the sentence structure is all jumbled up they'll double guess themselves and think they're translating it wrong, leading them back to square one.He looks at the time, realizing it's almost midnight. He sighs and gets up before he slips his notebook into his backpack. Until he comes up with the code completely, it'll be fine to bring to school to work on as well. Especially when he gets bored in class. He stretches and goes to his closet to change. He knows he doesn't have many clothes, he's already running out of things to wear. He'll have to do laundry soon. He walks back to his bed and lays down. His blanket doesn't have a lot of slack, he's grown a bit too tall for it but he tries to get comfy anyways. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the itchy fabric of the bandages around his wrist. When Izuku wakes up he can already tell he’s going to be late. The sun is up just a little too high and he feels groggy. Despite how his mind and body both protest, he quickly gets up and gets ready. He doesn't bother checking the time because he's too busy trying to get out the door. By the time he finally does so, he's trying to wrap the bandages around his wrist better while he walks quickly to school. He doesn't really care how people are looking at him weirdly while he's walking through the halls of his school. It seems like he made it before the bell, just not as early as usual.Normally, he tries to get to school earlier to avoid the people. They'd try to do everything they could to get him to be late for class, given the chance. Because of that, he tries to be in class before they're even arriving. After a few different people shove him in the halls, he finally reaches the classroom; as usual, the only one in there is Kacchan. When he walks through the door, the red eyes of the kid he's known since childhood snap towards him, making him pause for a second.They stare at each other for a solid 2 seconds before Izuku looks down and quickly makes his way to his seat. Eye contact with people always made him extremely nervous. Since, normally, it leads to something bad happening to him. He pulls out his notebook and starts going back to figuring out how to change a sentence structure in his code before a shadow covers his desk. He looks up at the figure looming over his desk and makes eye contact with the offender.“Why were you late,” it was more of a statement than a question, but he felt the need to reply as it was one anyway.“Uhm.. I woke up late? Took a while to walk to sch-school..” He curses at himself in his head for his stuttering. It happens because of a mixture of him being nervous talking to people and also the fact he doesn't talk often, making him stumble over his words a little sometimes.“Tch. Don't let it happen again. What are you writing in your nerd notes anyways,” again, it was a bit more of a statement than a question. Although, that's normal for Kacchan. Kacchan demands an answer more than he asks for one.Izuku looks down, fidgeting with his pencil as he suddenly starts getting more nervous. “U-Uhm well.. I- Uhm. Just.. something I was r-researching,” he bites his tongue as his stutter starts going full force. His throat locks up a little. Why is Kacchan interested in what's in his notebooks? Why did he seem to care that he was late? No, he didn't care, Izuku just bothered him. That has to be it.“Quit fucking mumbling. I'm not interested in your dweeb notes, it's not like they'd actually be of any use to me,” Katsuki stares at him for a second, looking like he's wanting to say something before he scoffs and lets an explosion off near Izuku's face. “I'm serious! Don't be fucking late again Deku!” he storms off to his desk. Izuku coughs a little at the smoke. He wonders why he looked like he wanted to say something, why he hesitated. Kacchan doesn't hesitate. Today seems off a little. Not just with what just happened, but he feels like something bad is about to happen.Izuku goes back to writing in his notebook, he's probably just anxious. He gets anxious a lot. He keeps trying to shake off the interaction that he just had; but as his classes came and went he just couldn't get it out of his head. He tried focusing on the code he was working on and tried using schoolwork to distract him but he just couldn't stop thinking about it.At the end of the last class of the day, he could feel two stares boring into his head, occasionally, there being a third. It felt weird, he shivered. As the last bell rang, he packed his stuff up. He suddenly felt the need to hide his notebook under some stuff in his bag instead of the normal way he packed it, so he did. Maybe it was just the anxiety of the fact that, for some reason, people are watching him.He gets up and makes his way outside, walking through different alleys and streets till he's almost at the park. He could see the park ahead of him when someone suddenly comes up behind him and covers his mouth, leading him into a forest nearby. He struggled and tried screaming as the person kept a tight hold on him. He tried scratching, kicking, punching, twisting, but the person holding him was much bigger and stronger.He suddenly felt his backpack being taken off him by another person before he was thrown to the forest floor. He turned around, ready to try and get up when there was some kind of cloth shoved into his mouth. As one person was shoving the cloth into his mouth, another person had come up behind him and started taking his jacket and shirt off, showing his binder underneath. He clawed at them, scrambling to try and get away before one of the people grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back. No no no, this can't be happening. He knows exactly what's about to happen, he can't let it happen, he wo-He was trying as hard as he could to get away when he felt a hand grab his chin and force him to look up. Wait, he recognized these people.It was Haruka and Ikari.
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Izuku had grown up in fear. Fear of the thoughts in the back of his mind telling him that soon, he'll be another statistic; another headline. Another article for people to read before they'd move on and forever forget about it. He'd walk the streets not knowing if he’d randomly be figured out and end up in an alley somewhere till someone found his body and reported it. Izuku was terrified that one day he'd end up dying; cold, alone, and in pain. That one day, instead of changing things, he'd be history. Something forever forgotten.Nobody would ever want to hear his story, it's not interesting enough for them. Nobody would ever want to know what his interests were, who the people close to him were, what kind of person he was. People would help his mother mourn, telling her that she's in their prayers. It's not like he's accomplished anything of importance in his short life anyways, nothing worthy of remembering.Deep down, Izuku knows his mother would be less than affected by his death. He knows it. He wants to keep thinking she would be, he wants to believe that his sweet, loving mother would always care and nurture him. But he knows it's a childish fantasy. At least she wouldn't be hurt about it if her only son died. She'd be able to move on and live a normal life.People say that when you're experiencing something traumatic, you blank out or time seems to go by too fast. That's a lie… at least for him it is. As Haruka is licking his snake-like tongue up his cheek and Ikari is reciting every slur that applies to him; time seems to slow, more so than usual. It seems to go in almost slow motion.He can vaguely register his choppy, cut off breathing. Most of what he's focused on is the dirty, rough hands dragging along his thigh. He still has his pants on, but he knows what's going on. He knows how these things work, his pants won't be on for much longer. He can't bring himself to fight back. Instead of a fight or flight response, he froze. Normally he'd choose flight, his body would automatically take him somewhere where he felt safe. Somewhere away from whatever made his body react in the first place. But he can't move.His throat feels like it's closing up. He feels someone shoving his back down onto the rough forest floor, making him choke on a sob the second his back made contact. He can feel cold, unforgiving hands taking his pants off. He can feel the breeze between his thighs. He can feel the sticky, web like substance pinning his shoulders to the ground. He can feel his warm tears turn cold as they drip down his cheek.He weakly tries closing his legs when a hand goes to touch his clit, making his sobs increase when Ikari unforgivingly shoves his legs apart. He almost blacks out when something big enters him, feeling a warm heat between his thighs. He can hear bits and pieces of Haruka running his mouth, telling him depriving, degrading things about what he wants to do to him to make him suffer. He can hear Ikari talk to Haruka about what they should do next before he feels hands wrapping around his hips, forcing him to arch his back up. He feels sick as the warm heat between his legs begins to move.He whimpers as his hair is roughly yanked to the side, making his face go extremely close to Ikari's length. He gasps a breath of air when the cloth is removed from his mouth, only for him to be cut off as his mouth gets stuffed. He gags as he recognizes that it's Ikari’s dick down his throat. He doesn't want this, he wants to go back to yesterday, where he was sitting in the park with that nice stranger, blissfully unaware of what would happen to him the next day.He feels Haruka’s hands slide up his stomach, he feels every agonizing second of his binder being taken off as multiple parts of his body are violated. He's never even masturbated before and now his virginity is being taken away without a second thought. He barely knows anything about these two, yet they are inside him and whispering disgusting things to him.Why are they even doing this? Why torture him like this? Do they find appeal in the way he can't fight back? In the way he's struggling? His mind goes blank the second he registers a warm liquid entering him, he can feel the way the dick inside him twitches as Haruka cums in him. He can feel every drag as he pulls out. He hates that his body feels agonizingly empty, he hates how his body clenched around nothing. He hates that they think he liked it as they keep telling him humiliating things about how his body is reacting to the smallest of touches. A sob is cut off by the same warm liquid entering his throat, Ikari pulling out of his mouth shortly after.He coughs out any cum that he wasn't forced to swallow, sobbing hard enough to make him almost throw up. He looks at the backs of Haruka and Ikari as they leave him there, laying on the forest ground. Sobbing, naked, shaking and probably bleeding from how rough Haruka was.He feels sick, violated in every way. He hates knowing that there's cum inside of him, the thought of it weighing heavy on his conscience. He has to make sure to clean himself as soon as he gets home, he doesn't want to get pregnant. Home.. that's right.How is he supposed to get home? He doesn't know if he could even get up to walk home. He doesn't have anyone to come pick him up either. He looks around at the ground, seeing his clothes scattered around him. The sticky substance from Ikaris quirk has worn off already so he tries to sit up again.He props himself up on his elbows, very slowly struggling to sit up. He cringes as he feels the cum drip out of him. He needs to get home as fast as he can, he wipes his tears as more stream down his face. Even though it's over he's still crying, he doesn't know how to handle this, it's all too much. He can barely register what just happened.He pulls on his shirt, opting to not wear a binder since he has to shower the second he gets home anyways. He shakily tries standing up, only to fall back down. He lets out a sob when he hits the ground. He wants to be home, he needs to get home. He grabs his pants and gets them on, wincing when he feels a sore spot already forming. Probably a pretty bad bruise. He knows there will be some bad bruising all over his body by morning.He tries his best to stand up, almost falling over a few times before he grabs onto a tree for support. He doesn't bother trying to get his shoes on, he can't bend like that right now. The pain starts getting more intense. He's almost certain there's some kind of bleeding, he needs to get home. He grabs his bag and his shoes, limping the way back to his house. He needs to get away fast, he hopes that they weren't planning on coming back for more, he seriously needs to watch himself better from now on. He feels like there's some kind of target on his back now. A different kind of target than usual. Now that they've done what they just did, what's stopping them from doing it again? In their eyes, they've already crossed that line, it's easy for them to cross it again.It takes an hour for Izuku to get back to his house, he limps his way past the entrance; triple checking the door to make sure it's locked before he limps to his room and sets his stuff down. He makes his way to the bathroom and starts the shower, he opts to sit in the shower rather than stand, he doesn't want to fall. He feels like he's watching everything through a tape. He feels hollow as he cleans himself out under the water, trying to ignore the stinging pain from doing so.After he gets out of the bathroom, he limps to his bedroom. He slips on a shirt and some boxers. Preferring to sleep in just that tonight. He lays down in his bed and covers himself with his blanket, laying on his side as he curls into himself. He stares at the wall as tears start dripping down his cheek.He doesn't know how to take it, he doesn't know what to do. How did he get in this situation? Like a switch, everything hits him full-force. He still feels empty, like there's a weight on his back, weighing him down and blaming him for what happened a few hours prior. It really was his fault, wasn't it? He should've paid better attention to his surroundings, he should've fought back better. Why did his body enjoy it? Why did it seem like he wanted more? He didn't.He feels disgusted with himself, he feels like he should be evaluated for some kind of mental illness. What's wrong with him? Why did he freeze up and allow those two to do that to him? Why didn't he try to run? Why did he just let it happen? Why wasn't he strong enough to get away?What's going to happen when he goes back to school tomorrow? How is he going to face them? They'll never forget what he looks like with his legs spread, under them while they take him. They'll never forget his figure, his noises, every scar they might have seen. Every time they look at him they'll know what he looks like naked and taking their dicks. He gags at the memory of cum dripping down his throat, he hates how it felt as he swallowed it. He hates how it felt when Haruka came in him.He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror when he came home, scared to find what marks they left on him. How looking at himself would be a physical reminder, a reminder that he got violated in every way. What if he can't hide all the marks with his uniform? What if someone sees? What if they ask questions? What if they find out how much of a disgusting person he is for letting someone do that to him.He's scared that Haruka and Ikari will start spreading rumors about what they did to him. Letting everyone know on broadcast that they were inside him. What if they try and do that to him again? What if they make other people do that to him too? What if they get multiple people to hold him down and force him to comply?His mind suddenly shuts down as he stuffs his face into his pillow, letting out loud sobs and big tears. He can still remember exactly how he felt as everything played out. He remembers how they touched him. He remembers how they held him down. How wrong it felt. He wanted his first time to be special, that's what everyone always says is right. They say to make sure to save it for that special someone so that you're not ‘tainted’. Is he tainted? Is he used goods? Will no one ever want him now? Even if someone looked past his quirklessness, would they still want him knowing he no longer has his virginity?For the next few hours, Izuku cries himself to sleep. He cries until his eyes will be so puffy they'll be hard to open the next day. He cries until he has a pounding headache. He cries until he passes out from exhaustion.No one will love him now.
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Izuku wakes up the next morning with no will to get up in the slightest. The day before had taken everything out of him, physically, emotionally, and mentally. How is he supposed to worry about something as small as school when he can't even bring himself to get up? Surprisingly, his dreams were not plagued by nightmares. He must've exhausted himself crying last night.He looks at the time, then the date. It's Friday, which means the weekend is tomorrow. He should just get up and be done with school before he has the weekend off. He turns so his back is against the bed, staring at the ceiling. He feels disgusting, violated. Two more people know his secret. Two more people know he's trans when his own dad doesn't even know. Not like he ever talks to him to find out.Haruka and Ikari have said before that they hated touching him, so why did they do it? Why would they touch him in more intimate ways when they can't even handle their hands on his shoulders for longer than 5 minutes. It doesn't make sense. Was that all he's good for? A quick fuck before they leave him alone? How can they live knowing they did that to him, a living, breathing human being with a conscience. But.. that's the thing, how could he forget? They don't see him as a human being. They don't see him as someone who has a mind and a will of their own. They see him as an object. Something to be used however they'd like before leaving him and never touching him again, they see him as something to use and wear down until he can't be used anymore. That thought makes him sick.He's a person, a real one. Not some kind of toy. Things affect him and things don't affect him, he breathes, eats, lives, just like them. But nobody thinks of him as a human anymore. That's the reality. Ever since he went to the doctors and they stamped a big, bold, red “Q” on his record; he was no longer considered human. No longer considered worthy to live amongst those who’re quirked. It's ironic considering it was the other way around a few hundred years ago.When quirks first came along, people who had them were experimented on, bullied, outcasted. They were no longer considered human until they fought back and war was left in its path. History will always repeat itself.He begrudgingly gets up, not having much energy to put effort into dressing properly. He can't bring himself to put his binder on so he opts for a hoodie instead. His uniform jacket is torn from yesterday so he doesn't bother wearing it. It's not like anyone would notice the difference.He grabs his bag and makes his way out the door, not bothering to eat breakfast or grab anything for later. He’ll probably doze off during lunch with how tired he is. He makes his way to his school, not realizing how early it is. By the time he gets to class, no one is there yet. Not even Kacchan. He sighs and makes his way to his desk, his brain isn't really working right now. His thoughts are working a lot slower than usual too.He sits down and puts his arm on his desk, laying his head on it. He's so tired, and sore. From his waist down it feels like pins and needles randomly stabbing him in different places. Sitting makes him wince and want to cry. He slowly starts dozing off, the edges of his vision becoming dark as he can't keep his eyes open anymore.His line of sight changes to the park he was at the other day. It's sunny out; even though he swears it was just dark a second ago. When did he get here? He looks around and spots the tree he sat under a few days prior, walking over to it, he touches the bark. The feeling of the wood underneath his fingers feels nice, just like the sun beating down on him. He sits down at the roots of the tree, looking back at the playground.He sees a few faceless kids running up and down the structure as they yell out phrases like, “Tag!” or exclaiming that the other kids are cheating. It's domestic, he thinks. For some reason he can't make out any features of their faces, he's not sure why. Maybe the sun is just making his brain hazy.He spots a group of four kids walking, one with razor sharp teeth, one with blood red wings, one with elongated fingers, one with blonde spiky hair and one wit- with.. green hair.. He looks at the group closer, trying to make out their faces. They're holding bags of something. They look like plastic chip bags. The five of them huddle up in a group, talking amongst themselves before the blond one suddenly holds his arm high in the air, something holographic in his hand glistening in the sun. The one with green hair cheers as he shows his friends something in his hand as well. The other three look slightly disappointed with whatever they have, but they cheer anyway.Izuku tries squinting to see if that would help him see their faces. He recognizes the blonde haired kid. He stares for a while until said kid suddenly stares back. Red eyes forming on his face at the same time as his chubby little kid cheeks, a wide smirk crossing his face as well. He looks so familiar.Izuku suddenly gets a sharp pain in his head, he looks back at the group of kids, only to look up as they're suddenly crowding him.“Hey! What are you doing?” The blonde one asks. He looks at the group, the green haired one is gone. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” He looks at the blonde again. Behind the blonde are the other three kids who seem to be.. growing in size.. starting to tower over him.He looks at what the kid is holding. A card. An.. All Might card. The blonde- Kacchan’s face starts to morph into something else. The kids behind him go into each other, becoming one. Kacchan drops his card before he grows in size too.Izuku stares in horror as their faces start to morph into ones he didn't want to see so soon, Haruka and Ikari. He tries to back away, only for the tree to stop him. He opens his mouth to speak, only for no words to come out. He tries to cover himself with his hands, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, only for his hands to suddenly be stuck to the tree by Ikaris' quirk.He looks at the two of them in terror before Haruka gets close to his face, whispering in his ear with his snake tongue licking him. “Wake up.”Huh?He's frozen in terror, eyes wide as he barely registers what is being said. How did Haruka and Ikari use his childhood friend's face? Who were those other kids again? Is there some kind of quirk? What's going on? What does he mean? Wake-“-up!” Izuku gasps as he falls out of his chair, looking up as his eyes are trying to refocus. The familiar sensation of tears welling up in his eyes hit his senses before he makes eye contact with the same red eyes he feels like he saw moments ago. He looks around as his brain seems to be finally catching up to his body.There's no one in the classroom but himself and.. Kacchan. That's trying to talk to him, wait, talk? He looks up to the blonde, squinting as he is finally able to bring his head out of whatever body of water it was under. The words coming out of his mouth were hard to hear, despite him now focusing on what he's saying.“-pid nerd. You were squirming around in your seat before I tried waking you up, I’m never doing that again by the way,” the blonde paused, he seemed almost hesitant. “Don’t ignore me again if I'm trying to get your attention. The extras will be here soon, quit slacking off stupid Deku!” he scoffs, looking over Izuku again before walking to his desk.As the words finally start registering in his head, he gets up and sits back at his desk. Rubbing his eyes and trying to go over what was in his dream. He decided to push off whatever that interaction was for later. Right now, all his mind was allowing him to think about was that dream.Who were those little kids again? He pulls out a notebook from his bag, not the one with his code in it. He opens to a new page and sketches the kids the best he can. He tries sketching how they looked when they were huddled in a circle, then he sketched what they looked like when they were in front of him; before they growing in size, morphing into-Izuku jolts out of his head, suddenly feeling a presence of eyes staring at him. He subtly tries looking around, noting that class already started. He fears that it's Haruka and Ikari staring at him, he fears that they'll try to repeat what they did yesterd- he makes eye contact with deep red eyes.Izuku and Katsuki stare at each other for a solid minute before something passes through the blonde's face, leaving almost as soon as it comes. Izuku can barely hear the bell as it shrills through the silence of the classroom.Breaking the eye contact, Izuku starts packing his things up. He wants to go home, but now it's lunch. He makes his way to the roof like usual, walking out and looking down at the city before he hears the door shut long after he's arrived. He looks behind him, now looking at the tuft of blonde hair.“Kacchan?”“It took fucking forever to find your stupid nerd ass. Why the hell are you up here.” The blonde stands a few feet away from the rooftop door, holding his hands in his pockets. Izuku has always wondered why he did that. Maybe it's because of his quirk? Focus.“I.. always come up here? I-I’ve been coming u-up here since first year..? I d-don’t really understand the question..” he tilts his head a little, scratching his neck.“Tch, whatever. What’s up with you lately? You’re off. First you’re late, then you come to school at the crack ass of dawn on a Friday. Did something happen with Auntie Inko?” Katsuki’s stance became a little rigid.“Huh? M-Mom? No, nothing happened to her. J-Just- ah.. Busy?” with the way it left Izuku's mouth, even him; himself, didn't believe his explanation.“You think I’m stupid or something Shitty Deku? Tell me the truth, not only has shit been happening with you coming to school at weird times, but you've also been spacing out a lot more than usual,” Katsuki steps closer to him, scowling. “Anyone with half a brain can notice that you’re off. Cough it up, what's going on,” He stares blankly at him.For a few seconds, Izuku considers it. It's Kacchan, someone who's known him since they were in diapers.. but at the same time.. Would Kacchan judge him? Would he call him ‘tainted’ like he's seen other people call those who have lost part of themselves too early? Would he tell anyone? No, Kacchan wouldn't tell anyone, he isn't like that. But he thought Kacchan wouldn't hurt him with his quirk when they were younger too.Izuku sighs and shakes his head, tilting it down so he can look at the ground. “I’m fine Kacchan, really. Th-Thanks for c-checking up on me.. I’d tell you if a-anything was wrong,” Izuku starts walking towards the rooftop door, looking back at the blonde to give him a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes before opening the door and leaving the rooftop.“Bullshit,” the blonde scowls as he stares at where the green haired kid was a second ago.
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As an underground hero, it's rare to come across people who aren't criminals while you're on duty. For Shouta, it's even rarer. Not only is he an underground hero, but outside of his patrol, he works undercover missions, stakeout missions, underworld things. His patrol is also at night.Honestly, he prefers it that way. Yes, most people would be traumatized and break down constantly over some of the more morbid scenes he's come across, but he's also always been a bit insensitive to them. Not insensitive like he doesn't feel sympathy, he just doesn't get as affected by the more disturbing scenes. It makes him the perfect candidate for all the harder and more bloodier side of things. It's why he's so familiar with a certain detective in the station, one that specializes in gruesome cases. One that can pull the truth out of anyone, even the most stubborn of people.He doesn't normally get seen on his patrols since he prefers to stick to the shadows. He doesn't have the most loving personality and definitely doesn't get along with most people. If people saw him on the streets, most would think he's homeless anyways; that's on purpose. If he looks homeless, he looks less suspicious to criminals. If you were to see him on the streets you wouldn't think he would know how to hold his own. It makes people underestimate him, which leads to their downfall.Not many people know much about him. Although, if you know Shouta, you know he's a hero. Now, being a hero, you'd think he knows how to react to things like being spotted or random questions about himself or his hero work; but since his lack of social experiences with these kinds of things, he doesn't. That's what leads him to now.He had just gone out for patrol, partaking in a different routine than usual. Normally, he would walk the streets about a block from his house before taking to the rooftops. This time, he just jumped from his balcony onto the neighboring building before scaling it and scouting the streets with his eyes. He wasn't in the mood to go on a light jog tonight and it was much easier to just scale the building. As long as nobody saw him leave his apartment, his safe place, people would just think he was patrolling like normal. Which he technically was.He catches a glimpse of movement to his right, causing his guard to go up and his quirk to activate before tensely turning to the sound. Already? Almost nothing happens near his apartment complex, of all the times he's been out patrolling, the closest an incident that ever happened was almost two blocks away. He looks right at a little kid, definitely not older than middle school age, but definitely not straight out of elementary. They both stared at each other for a few minutes, weirdly enough; it doesn't seem like the kid is affected by his quirk. Which is.. odd. To say the least.Almost everyone has a reaction to a person's quirk being turned off, as you can guess, he has no idea how it feels. But, most people say it feels like a hollow piece is inside of you, like you’re not complete. Kinda like when you lose a limb, you can almost feel it, like it's there.. but its not. Like a phantom feeling. It creeps most people out to the point even the most professional of people have reactions when his gaze directs towards them. So why is this seemingly middle schooler not reacting in the slightest?He stops using his quirk when he realizes there's no real threat around, causing the boy to flinch harshly at the sudden movement before he closes his blinds abruptly. They seemed flustered, it was a little cute.He was slightly offended though. He didn't look that bad, just a bit.. grumpy, as his friends describe him. He fixes his goggles, messing with his hair a little while starting to run across the rooftops. The kid lives in the same building as him, odd. He didn't know any kids even lived in that building, that's why he chose it. It was a pretty quiet neighborhood, close to his patrol route, and he's never had to file a complaint. It wasn't that he particularly hated kids, hate was too strong of a word. He just did not favor the younger kids very much. They are loud, too dependent and messy. He understands they're just kids so of course they'll be dependent, he's just a very independent man. Plus, Hizashi gets too loud around little kids.He had Nezu pull some strings to get his specific apartment to be soundproofed after an incident with one of his neighbors. That's how much he liked his apartment, he didn't want to be kicked out for something that he could easily fix with the connections he had. He doesn't really care about the luxuries, it's just so quiet. He can always nap without issues regarding sound, it's wonderful. Surprisingly, he's never met the other neighbors before, but that's besides the point.The soundproofing didn't block him from any outside noise, so that kid had either just moved in or they never had any company over. He wonders briefly how close that kids apartment is to his, maybe they were just a few apartments apart and his neighbors had to take the brunt of it. He isn't sure.The only reason he had to get the apartment soundproofed was because of Hizashi. Sometimes, he loses control of his quirk when his emotions are high, a very common problem. Since he's a pro, he can handle it in public settings but since he's comfortable with Shouta, for some reason, he lets loose a little and relaxes. He gets it, when he's overwhelmingly angry he sometimes loses a handle on his quirk too. If he's in public, you can sometimes see little bits of his hair float up. Most people back off if it gets to that point, however. It doesn't take a whole lot to get him angry but he can control himself even while in a state of extreme anger, he doesn't know why everyones so overdramatic and always telling him he's scary or intimidating when he's really not. He's just tired.A noise jolts him out of his thought process. He looks towards the sound before running across the rooftops as fast as he can without risking him getting hurt. Right. He's here to be a hero and do his job, not to be stuck in his head. He can think about this later, when he's home, hopefully alone to be with his thoughts. It was about 3 am when Shouta finally arrived home. It had been a relatively easy shift, an attempted mugging and a few drunkards but nothing major. He walks inside and shuts the door behind him, putting his capture scarf on the back of his couch. He drags his feet to his room and opens the door before flopping onto the bed. He exhales deeply and turns over, staring at his ceiling. His mind goes back to the little kid from earlier.He wonders why he hasn't ever seen them before. Was the kids' family new in town? There was an apartment that recently went up for sale since the previous tenants decided it was time to move on and retire into a nice home, good for them.Maybe they moved in there? The questions just keep adding up in Shouta’s mind, begging to be answered. Why was a kid his age up so late? How did the kid even notice him? Was he off his game? Did he let his guard down just because he was nearby where he lived? The answer to that was.. no. No he didn't.He knows for a fact he didn't, he'd never allow himself to mock his years of training and the experiences he's had by letting his guard down just because he was near a safe place. Only ever let your guard down in a place you know is safe, even then, be prepared. He didn't have his guard down, he had been hidden in the shadows like normal. Did the kid have some kind of night seeing quirk?Either way, the situation was a little off putting. All night it had been on his mind even as he was detaining criminals. He was lucky it was a slow night tonight, he was definitely off his game. The night could've ended a lot worse had he been caught in a busy night, he really needs to forget what happened tonight and move on. So he did. Scratch that. It's never that easy. It had been two nights since he first saw the kid, ever since then he hasn't seen hair nor hide of them. It was becoming sort of an issue, Shouta was having a hard time focusing on his patrols lately. There was just this.. off feeling. One that he feels like he can understand but can't place, it's throwing him off big time.Just earlier he had been swept up off his feet by a simple drunk, rookie mistake. He went home and had to bandage his bruised ribs himself since he couldn't bother Recovery Girl till the morning, he feels like he's fresh out of highschool again; still learning the ways of the back alleys tucked into the shadows of the streets. He feels off kilter, like his brain has been massaged the wrong way. He sighs.He probably won't see the kid again anyways, he should just move on and let it go. It was a one time thing, nothing to worry about. It wasn't a one time thing. He had been outside during the day for once, the staff lounge needed more coffee and since he had a free period; it was his responsibility. Also, because he's the one who drank the most coffee, but that's not relevant.He was walking on the sidewalks carrying multiple bags of coffee, causing him multiple weird stares, when he spotted a park across the road. He's seen this park quite a few times, it's a very loved place. Lots of heroes patrol around there and the crime rate isn't bad. He looked over the play structure, seeing all the little kids running and playing.He sighs and scans more of the park, looking over by the benches when he sees a bush of green hair. One that he recognizes. It's that little kid he saw that one time. He didn't think he'd ever see him again, honestly; he had forgotten about the kid… not like the kid has been what was plaguing his thoughts or anything. He sounds like a gross pedophile.He looks at the figure next to the kid, spotting a fluff of purple hair. It seemed like the other person was around that kid's age.. He had lavender hair sticking up but he couldn't really see any other features since they were facing the opposite way. Was that purple haired kid the green haired one's friend? Why does he care? He doesn't even know that kid, whatever.He keeps walking, making his way back to U.A. That green haired kid is becoming a problem, distracting him from his job- both his jobs. He again feels like he's fresh out of highschool, when his mind would wander all the time and he couldn't focus on anything. He's not an amature, goddammit.The fluffy green hair crosses his mind again, it looks soft. Kind of like the fur of a cat... He hadn't seen much of the kid but when he observed the two kids talking he could make out the nervous twitches and fidgets a mile away. He wonders why they seemed so timid, most kids around that age are off playing games in the arcades, or showing off their quirks that are “flashy” and “perfect for heroics”. He knows that's not every kid, just most of them. Maybe they had some kind of mental quirk? It didn't seem like they had any noticeable mutations, they hadn't looked like they were using a quirk either.They seemed to almost vibrate in place when they had been engulfed in whatever book they were reading, they seemed like a very timid type, like a bunny.Yeah, a bunny. A very problematic bunny.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The entire weekend was shit. His mom wouldn’t stop giving him looks on the off chance she caught sight of him. She gave looks like she knew what happened, like she knew he was impure now; tainted. How was he supposed to tell her that? How was he supposed to talk about it? God this is exhausting.
It's not like he hasn't kept secrets from her before, he just doesn't normally keep major secrets. He wasn't just running into the problem of how awkward the conversation would be, but if he told her she'd probably just say it was because he had the body of a woman. She'd say that it was his fault, if he didn't “hide it,” nobody would have to
drag
the truth out of him like that.
He doesn't want to deal with another summer of misgendering from her just because something happened regarding his biology. It happened when he received his period, when he started going through puberty and his chest got larger, it happened when he'd get catcalled on the streets. For weeks after any of these incidents happened, she would revert back to calling him “she,” and his deadname. She'd say things like how it was a mistake and she forgot despite him already being out to her. So he no longer tells her these things.
It isn't like she doesn't love him, she just doesn't understand. Some people have traditional ways of thinking, he knows she loves him though. He hasn't been kicked out or anything he'd classify as abused. There's food most of the time since she has to eat too so there's unlimited access to that, even if he doesn't eat much of it anyways.
She does buy any necessities for school, like his uniforms and his books. He has to use some old notebooks that he finds in storage but that's okay. He has to rip out some of the notebook pages that had been written in but it works just fine. He knows money is tight, that's why whenever his mom goes out, her friends pay for her. How else would she go out almost every week to cool off from the stress of work?
He wonders if all jobs are as demanding as his mom told him when he was a kid, it makes him wonder how everyone can handle it, how people can do it without breaking down. It makes him scared for the future, a little too much. He doesn't want to spend his life working in a job with people he can almost guarantee won't like him, he doesn't want to make so little money from something he doesn't enjoy doing. Is that what happens?
His mom hasn't really told him much about what he's going to have to face in the future, how to be an adult. Some parents are like that, but he wishes she wasn't so he could feel a bit more prepared. Like he wants to know how bills work. How do they get paid? How much does it normally cost? What's the difference between a house and an apartment on the basis of rent? Is owning a house something he should strive for? He doesn't know these things, he wants to though, he likes being prepared. Being unprepared means bad things, it means he's behind everyone; more so than he already is. It gives people more reason to make fun of him.
Mentally, physically, emotionally, any way he can possibly feel; it's all exhaustion. He feels like his limbs are about to give out. He feels like his bones are tired of grinding together and using the help of his muscles to drag his weight around. He feels so exhausted that he could sleep and never wake up. But he has to actually get up, he has to wake his muscles from their nightly slumber and knock on his cranium to get the fuck up and get on with the day. Such responsibilities.
He stares at his ceiling for what feels like hours, really being a few seconds. No matter how many times he washes away the evidence from that day he just can't stop feeling humiliated, ashamed, violated, and many other words describing what he means. He feels so numb to it all yet he's in complete misery.
He goes through the motions of his routine in the morning despite how little it seemed to matter to him in the moment. How was he supposed to go back to normal after everything? Was he supposed to act like nothing happened?
The answer is yes. Find a routine, stick to it, repeat. Don't bother trying to break the loop, it wont work.
He still hasn't seen Ikari and Haruka yet, but he knows that’ll change the second he arrives at school. It's Monday after all.
As that thought crosses his mind, he arrives at said school. He walks in with his head down. He arrives in class in 5 minutes flat due to his rush to get to his desk. He's exhausted and the day hasn't even started yet, he doesn't know how he'll make it through the day.
He lets his head fall on his desk, biting his lip to hold back tears. There's no one else in the room besides him and the familiar blonde who’s always got to be the first one here. It's not like he'll notice anyways.
Why does everything have to hit him now? Why does that beautiful numbness have to leave his system and yank him back into reality? Couldn't it have waited until he got home? Safe in his bedroom away from whatever danger leers near? His breath starts picking up, he hears the faint sound of the shrill that breaks the almost silent room as a chair is scooted back. He can barely register words that are spoken to him. Words? That can't be right.
He looks up and falls out of the chair from how close the person is. They're hovering over him now, looking down on him, just like Ikari did th-
He scrambles back to the corner of the room, sobbing and mumbling incoherent words to the other person in the room. Why won't they leave him alone? Are the two delinquent's really going to rape him again? Right here in the classroom where everyone can see? They already shamed him once by stripping away his dignity, but they'll do it again? In front of everyone? He kicks and sobs, trying to make the person let go of his arms. He can't even look at them, he doesn't want to see the looks on their faces when they eventually win.
He's panicking, well, maybe not panicking… Bakugou Katsuki doesn't panic… but he's panicking.
Besides the fact of the bug haired geek acting weird, everything in his life has been normal. But that's the thing, if the nerd is acting weird then his life gets slightly off kilter; his entire existence becomes weird. It's not completely about the nerd being weird, he's not that important; it's just that besides not having a quirk, the nerd has never had anything affect him bad enough for him to change his habits, personality.
He’s always been a constant in his life whether or not he wants to admit it. Not that the person currently invading Katsuki’s mind would ever know. He would never let Deku know even a sliver of what he just admitted. Whatever has that creep spooked, just had to have been bad.
He had got up not long after that weirdo had entered the room, intending on confronting him. At first, his mind had thought something happened to Auntie, so he set on finding out exactly why he's acting off. He had marched over to his desk when he noticed irregular breathing patterns coming from the person in front of him, he brushed it off at first but the oddity of it set him off a little. It felt like he was out of place standing in front of that desk, in that classroom, at that point in time; but he wasn't.
He may not like the pain in his ass that much but he's not as coldhearted as people think, he does want to be a hero after all. Yes, he's a little rude and brash, but not coldhearted. The only problem is, he has no idea how to deal with stuff like this. He tries talking a few times to get his attention before resorting to yelling after his eyes became even less focused and his breath sped up impossibly fast. Panic attack.
The second he had made contact with those almost lifeless eyes, the bearer of them had practically leaped out of his chair and cowered to the corner of the room. He walked over but that only seemed to make it worse. What the hell is happening? He had read up a little on what to do if victims were having panic attacks but nothing had even set him off, nothing even happened. How was he supposed to make sure whatever made him panic was out of sight out of mind if he hadn't the slightest clue what made him panic like this in the first place? Why did he suddenly spiral into such a deep state of panic when he was just sitting at his desk?
Not even considering the fact that Izuku might be seeing something else, he leaned over Izuku, intending on grabbing his arm when he let out a string of barely coherent mumbles.
Now, normally, the nerd's mumbles would annoy the shit out of him, but he's way too confused and definitely not worried to care. By him starting to mumble, he's showing signs of his usual self; except the fact of what he's mumbling.
He's not mumbling about his weird ass notes, or about upcoming heroes, or about some weird creepy ass stalker he saw outside his window one night, he's not theorizing on whether or not one of the top ten will be knocked out in the next hero rankings; no. He's mumbling but a simple phrase over and over.
“No, NO, no… can't.. They're mine, it's mine. Get away AWAY, back up.”
He has absolutely no idea what that means, which means that shit can't help him at all. Total bullshit.
He takes a deep breath and slowly kneels down, grabbing Izuku’s arms and tugging them away from his face to stop him from scratching his cheeks and pulling his hair. He gets a little closer to him.
“Deku, whatever you're seeing right now is not there. Get your nerdy ass back up, you're in class”, yeah. That's about the best it'll get, coming from him.
Deku’s painfully dull eyes met his. As they cleared up, so did the muddled feeling of the weight that was once on his shoulders. The feeling of dread, like something was slightly out of place without you ever being able to put a finger on it.
Fucking finally. He lets go of his arms and scowls before standing up and turning around. He holds out a hand and, as expected, the nerd takes it right away. He quickly yanks his hand back and crosses his arms.
“What the hell was that shitty Deku?” he snarls a little, not daring to look at the sniffling boy behind him.
“Nothing! I just panicked because.. b-because there's a test coming up, yeah! And.. I r-really need to pass,” fucking liar, typical Deku. How stupid is he to think that he'd have a panic attack that bad over something like a test?
“Whatever nerd, don't let it happen again,” he walks back to his desk and sits down at his chair, absolutely refusing to look in any direction towards the boy still trying to compose himself.
There's one thing he at least knows for certain. Izuku Midoriya is not telling the truth, he's hiding something, something big. Nobody hides things from him without him already knowing, especially not a lowlife like him. He’ll figure out exactly what that weirdo is hiding.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Kacchan helped him! Like actually helped him! He even physically helped him up! And sorta comforted him. He can't believe it, he knows Kacchan will make an amazing hero someday. He's always known it though, no matter what he's done or said to him or other people in the past. He's always been 100% sure that Kacchan will make the best hero in the world no matter what kind of hero he ends up being and no matter what happens to himself; no matter where he ends up in the end. Kacchan will be a hero.It was long after school had ended. He wanted to go to the park, but the second he turned to walk down the road it was down, he felt like throwing up. Quickly choosing another route, Izuku made it home 10 minutes later. As he walked into his house, making sure to lock the door behind him, he looked around and sighed. Another day he came home and his mom wasn't there. When will she be there?He feels like it’s been forever since he saw his mom, even if he’s seen her as she’s on her way out of the house or if she’s heading to her room for the night; it still feels like days, weeks, since he last saw her. The house feels dead, empty, abandoned. It cools his heart and makes him upset to remember when he was a kid, how the house was full of life. His mom, Kacchan, and Auntie would be here.He and Kacchan would play in his room with toys and sticks and come up with the stupidest things. They'd use the sticks as buildings, bystanders, other heroes, everything you could think of; then you had All Might. All Might was well, All Might. The amazing hero who saved everyone, the symbol of peace, the man who never stops smiling even in the face of danger.But that's gone now, all of that's gone. Every piece. He hates going out of his room just because he hates smelling the staleness of the house, the way he can see the dust forming on the tv stand and the way he can see that nobody’s walked through the entire other half of the house.He tried to ignore the dread settling into his stomach as he went to his room and pulled out his code notebook. He brought himself to his desk and sat down, setting his notebook in front of him. He looked down at it, trying to find motivation within himself to start writing. Today started out like shit, then he was happy, then he had to go and ruin it for himself by trying to take that road. By reminding himself that his mom wasn't here once again.Lately it feels like he’s been almost self-sabotaging himself. Like, when he’s happy, his body or mind find a way to make him upset or sad. Like when he sits down to do something he enjoys, his limbs won't move and his eyes get heavy till he's forcing himself back to bed. Bed. That's something his body has been enjoying lately.Even when he has no motivation, or when he’s having one of those days that makes him feel like he's underwater, he knows he can just lay in his bed and relax.Izuku has a few different types of days that he experiences, he's categorized them in his head. There's days where it feels like he's underwater, days where he feels like his limbs are being controlled by anyone other than himself, and days where someone's looking over him; telling him what he can and can't do. On the rare occasion, though, he has days where he's in control of his own mind, body and soul. Days where the dread and looming fear don't take his mind over and he feels free to finally do whatever.Days where he feels like he's underwater have seemed to be the pattern lately. The name is pretty self-explanatory to how it feels. His senses feel muddled, like his ears are constantly straining to hear those above the surface; his eyes can never quite see completely clear; it feels like his head is being dunked underwater the second he's let back up for a breath of air. The second he’ll have a happy moment, the waves of dread wash over him and pull him right back under the unforgiving currents. He rarely gets blessed with the feeling of being numb on these days, for they mostly leave him in misery.Days where he feels like his limbs aren't quite his are the ones he doesn't really remember. On those days, he lets other people dictate what he does. If he's in class and gets called on, he answers. If he gets shoved in the hallway, he stumbles before continuing to walk the path anyways. Whatever names or insults they throw at him get absorbed into his flesh for his mind to run over later when it’s a day the waves come. His body will slowly migrate its way to a chair or a bed to sit and rot all day. If he never had responsibilities, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd sit and rot.Days where he has someone in his head, telling him what to do, are exhausting. It'll tell him, “No, don't do that. Sit there instead. Not that either, go lay down instead, wait; go back. I want you to go back and do the other thing. You can’t do that. Do you really need that?” the voice comes in the form of his mother’s. The way she'd tell him what he can and can't do when he was younger, the way he wasn't allowed to do simple things other kids his age could do. The way she contradicts herself by telling him not to do something she just told him to do. The way she would convince him not to fight it when someone took something of his, or when he’d want something and she’d convince him in a way where he felt like it was his decision to put it back.Then come the days where he feels like he's just had a fresh shower and stepped out into the warm sun. These days are the most enjoyable, the days where he feels like he's unstoppable. The days where he feels like he can finally chase his lifelong dream despite all the odds. Sometimes, these days turn into wave days, but most of the time they stay sunny. He’d wake up energized and motivated, he’d wake up and feel like nothing could ever go wrong. He’d feel like his head is finally above all the waves, he could control his own body and movements, his body would finally stop rotting and his mind would be clear. He would feel like he could finally breathe.Izuku had been writing in his notebook for 10 minutes before he heard the front door open. He glanced at the clock before startling as he realized it was already 8. He quickly hid his notebook away in his drawer before getting up and peeking his head out of his room. He looked over towards the living room couch and grimaced.His mom was home. Just.. drunk, on the couch, with her clothes all messed up. For the first time in months, the couch is being used.. Just not in the way he had hoped.He inhaled and almost gagged at the overwhelming stench of alcohol. He forced himself to walk all the way out of his room and to the living room to help her clean her up. He pulled her shoes off, grabbed a glass of water, set it on the coffee table, then sat her upright on the couch so he could sit next to her.Feeling a hand in his hair, he looked down.“Oh my sweet baby.. I wish you wouldn’ of cut your hair.. It wa’ so pretty..” He swallowed, grabbing her hand and holding it.“I kn-know mom, I know,” they've had similar conversations before, does not make it hurt any less though.“I wishhh you ‘adn’t got tha’ shilly idea in your head ‘bout bein a boy, you woulda’ been quite the catch,” he bit his tongue, this conversation wouldn't end with both parties happy. He’d rather her be happy.“And tha’ excuse ‘bout your ears? You already have enough attention on you,” she squeezes his hand a little, making him look up at her.“I know mom. Why don't you lay down, it seems like y-you've had a lot to drink,” he slides to the floor as he helps her lay down, forcing a smile on his face. He sits on his knees by her face.“Y’know… I wasn’ suppose to have you.. I coulda’ gotten.. rid of you.. Anytime..” he tears up a little. She doesn't mean it. She doesn't mean it. She's drunk. She doesn't mean it.“You weren’t planned.. sumthin’ unexpected.. coulda’... shoulda’... never should’ve had.. you.. so.. stop frownin’... don’ be ungrateful..” she muttered the last few words as she slowly passed out. She’s drunk, she doesn’t mean it. She would never say things like that if she was sober. She would never mean things like that. She loves him. She's his mom, she has to love him, she just shows it in a different way.He sits there for a while, almost 20 minutes. His back was to the couch as he was sitting on the floor, staring at the pictures that line the walls. As a kid, his favorite one was the one with him as a baby and his dad holding him. He’d always sit and stare at it, hoping his dad would just come to life in the picture and pop out of the frame to hold him again.He gets up and numbly walks to his room.He walks over to his bed and sits down, looking around the walls of his room. He scoots back so his back is against the wall. He has a few drawings hung up, old ones. Ones he made when he was a kid. Ones he kept just for the sake of sentimental value.He brings his knees to his chest, curling in on himself and setting his face in his arms. He drifts off to sleep as tears roll down his cheeks at the memories that have long since passed. It was late afternoon when Izuku woke up. His body heavily protested his movements as he uncurled himself from his bed. His joints popped and creaked as he made his way to the bathroom. He started the shower and got in, making sure to do his daily routine before he got out. As he stepped out, he walked over to the front of the mirror and looked at himself for the first time in a few days.On his neck were marks that seemed to be already fading. On his arm was old, wet bandages that needed to be taken off. His chest had binding marks from wearing his binder for long periods of time and he seemed all too pale.Looking back at his arm, he unwrapped the old, gross bandages and grabbed the first aid kid. He walked out of the bathroom and threw the kit onto his bed before digging through his dresser. He grabbed boxers, shorts and a tank top and threw them on before walking over to his bed and sitting down. He grabbed the kit and opened it, going through the all too familiar motions of grabbing an alcohol wipe, cleaning his wrist off, and wrapping the bandages back around him.He wonders when this loop will end, when something new will appear. When it'll get better. When he’ll lose the habit of this, the habit of knowing how to bandage himself over and over, knowing how to pick himself up without needing anyone else. He wonders when he’ll finally have someone to lean on, to hold his hand and help guide him through rougher times.He wonders if he’ll ever have that at all, if he’ll ever meet someone or if he’ll be alone forever.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Izuku stared at his wall for a few minutes before he grabbed his phone off the charger, turning it on and looking at the time. He shifted around in his bed to get a bit more comfortable as he caught sight of the time and date.
It’s Tuesday? Shit! He turns his phone on and off a few times, hoping for it to change. It's already 12, closer to 1, and he missed almost the entire day of school. He puts his elbows on his knees, setting his face in his hands. Logically, he knows he won't be that far behind, he knows that. But the thought of him always being behind is written in his skull, like it's built into him.
He sighs and lays back down on his bed, looking at the ceiling through barely opened eyes as he slowly blinks and lets his mind wander. What could he do to pass the time? He sits back up and looks over at his desk, looking at the drawer where his notebook lays.
He doesn't have much else to do, he supposes. He gets up and walks over to his desk, grabbing his notebook out and sitting down. He flips through the pages and studies the code he's made and slowly writes out a few sentences. He's not completely fluent, and has to check the code key sometimes, but he's doing better.
For the entire day, Izuku spends it writing. He starts writing analysis, practice sentences, even going as far as practicing the vocal code as well. As the hours pass, he doesn't notice how his stomach rumbles and his eyes get droopy. He doesn't really pay attention to the ache in his hands or the sharp pain on his thighs. As he finishes one last sentence, he smiles a little to himself.
He feels proud, which lately is an accomplishment. He feels glad that he was able to do something he enjoyed without his mind bothering him. He can tell the distraction helped.
He glances over at the clock and puts everything away with a smile on his face.
He went to sleep content that night.
He woke up early the next morning, dragging himself out of bed and going through the motions of his everyday routine. He doesn't really feel much, he can't seem to care as the rain soaks him on his way to school or the way the stares he receives on the way to class don't make his skin crawl, because he doesn't care. Not today at least.
He knows he should, he knows he shouldn't just be content with how people treat him or whatever happens to him. He knows he needs to care, he just doesn't.
When he arrives at his desk and sits down, he looks out the window. He doesn't care for rain, but he also doesn't mind it. He can register the cold, undesirable feeling of water soaking through his socks.
Even if he doesn't care much for it, he misses the sound of rain. The way it would lull him to sleep on restless nights. The way he’d listen for any other sounds peeking through the patter of the drops. The way he'd watch the drops slowly drip from windows. Rain is endearing, he decides.
As the class starts filing in, Izuku rips his gaze from the window. He catches sight of two bodies at the desks that have been empty since last week. Haruka and Ikari.
He quickly looks away, not wanting them to catch him staring, not wanting to attract attention to himself. As the teacher enters the room and a pile of school work gets dropped on his desk, he doesn't bother trying to figure out what is being said to him.
He grabs one sheet at a time, finishing them one by one. His ears rang, his body was tense and he could feel their hands on his skin. He could feel the way they touched him. He could feel the sticky substance on his wrists, the dirt of the forest floor. His body drops into a cold sweat, although, he's not sure if that's because he's soaked or if that's because of his thoughts.
The assignments were easy enough, he had nothing to worry about. He knew he had nothing to worry about, in the back of his head. It's exactly like he said before, though. It feels like it's ingrained in him to be set up for failure. He feels it in his bones, he feels that he's going to fail.
He runs over his schedule in his head, waiting for the next teacher to arrive at the class. Oh, English. That's right, he forgot he has to take that this year.
He takes out a new notebook, his emotions slowly leaking through the numbness as he starts paying attention to the front of the classroom. As the teacher walks in, he catches Izuku’s gaze. He makes an odd face, but Izuku’s used to that.
Normally teachers have some sort of reaction to him being in their class, this teacher is no different. This teacher is new to the building altogether, meaning he probably never knew about Izuku till now. He doesn't care, he's excited for this class.
As the man starts teaching, Izuku does his best to listen. He strains his ears as much as he can and writes down every detail that's on the whiteboard. He stares intently at the man's lips, trying his best to read them even if he can only make out sloppy details.
The man catches sight of him again and he looks away a little sheepishly. He hates it when people catch him looking at their lips instead of their eyes, it's awkward. He wishes he could just hear better, he wishes his ears weren't as useless as him.
He stops that train of thought as soon as it came, preferring to focus on his work. He was right, he does love English. He quickly wrote down everything almost exactly as the teacher said it, leaving out small words here and there.
He even goes as far as writing side notes on his own opinions on the subject. He turns to a new page as they get to learning the words themselves, the pronunciation.
The teacher had said that they don't need to worry about pronunciation right now, just learning the words and their meanings; but Izuku felt this urge to impress the man. He felt the urge to earn respect from him, he'll have to practice the words in his room later.
Throughout class, the teacher kept sending him weird looks. Or looking him up and down like he was assessing him. It was a little weird and made his skin crawl but he decided to ignore it as he was far more interested in the subject at hand.
Even though the looks he was being sent seemed more like a hunter stalking their prey, waiting for a moment to strike.
As class ended, Izuku was a little disappointed. He wanted to learn more. He guesses it can't be helped, though. He wondered if there were any good places to learn English online. Maybe he'd look into it, he kinda preferred learning it in class, though. Maybe it was the environment.
As he packed up his things and set them into his bag, he walked out of the classroom and headed home. He looked at the road that would take him to the park and stood there for a second. Maybe he'd try… tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.
Izuku walked home quickly, practically running as he got to the steps to his apartment. As he stepped in the door, he quickly toed his shoes off and ran to his room. Dropping his bag on the floor and quickly digging his English notebook out. As he sat down at his desk, he opened his laptop to try and find videos to help with pronunciation.
His accent would make things a little hard, but he’ll manage. As he looked up videos on his laptop with one hand, his other hand was preoccupied with flipping through his notebook to try and find easy words they learned in class.
As he was flipping through his notebook, he caught a glimpse of color on it. He quickly flipped back to the page and looked at the smiley face there.
He never used markers on his notebooks, it bled too easily and wasted other pages he could be using, so who wrote this? He tried thinking about times where his notebook was unaccompanied and the only time it was, was when he got up to sharpen his pencil.
None of the classmates that sat near him would be the type to do that, but he did remember seeing his teacher walking near there as he was walking back. He furrowed his eyebrows at the page, seeing marker bleed on it like something was written on the other side. He turns the page and looks in the corner of it.
There's a star this time, with words accompanying it.
“Impressive notes! Come see me after class sometime and I can do some one-on-one time with you. You seemed excited from how you looked in class.” It read.
He fidgeted with the page a little, looking at it skeptically. Why would his teacher even bother interacting with him? Does he know what he is? Did he not look at records? No, no he definitely did. Every teacher has to when they start a new school year, so why did he bother showing any kind of interest in him? Bullshit, all of it. Everything written there.
He's never had a teacher cause physical or really even mental harm to him. Did the teacher want him to stay so he could change that? Was this a trap set up so the teacher would hit him or threaten him to stop cheating even if he wasn't? Was it a trap to incriminate him with a lie? What was the real reason his teacher wanted him to stay?
He feels like a mouse caught in a trap, a bug caught in a web or a fish caught by a bird. He felt like the second he did stay after class, it wouldn't end well. But.. who is Izuku to judge?
The man hasn't done anything bad, nothing that he knows of anyway. He guessed he wasn't weird and didn't treat him differently, but he did give him weird looks in class.. Maybe he was reading into things too much? Maybe he’s being unfair. It's not fair for him to judge another person based on what other people do, that's not fair if the man is really a good person.
Would it be bad to be cautious around him? I mean, every reason he just listed off could also be applied to this. Would it be unfair for Izuku to be cautious around him without even giving him a chance? Would it be unfair to him to act scared or cowardly around him when the man hasn't even posed any threat to Izuku?
The note itself left him a little put off… he guesses it was just kinda weird. He's never had a teacher leave him notes or have him stay after class for any other reasons besides detentions or speaking about grades. Even the few that liked him didn't do that. He felt like he was definitely being unfair about it.
Out of all people, he should know better than to judge. Out of everyone, someone like him should know exactly what it's like to be judged based on other people that he has no relation to other than the fact he's genetically similar to them.
It wouldn't be fair, or right, for him to judge the man just based on his other teachers or teachers he's had in the past. Not even comparing him to other adults he has had in his life would make it fair.
He should only judge him based on who he is as a person, not based on comparisons.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Izuku sighs as he looks at his laptop for the last time that night before he closes the tabs and shuts it off. It's late, he needs to get to bed. He goes through his nightly routine and gets in bed 15 minutes later. As he's laying there, he looks at the ceiling.
He feels like days are becoming repetitive, in a way. Like he's in a loop and barely anything changes. Days seem to go by too fast despite them being the same 24 hours they've always been.
He feels a need to change something, but every time he actually starts thinking about it, he feels a sense of overwhelming dread. He feels as if he needs to stay in this loop, he needs to stay in the habit of things or something terribly wrong will happen. That can't be true, though, right?
There's no way that something will go wrong just because he broke his habits, broke the never ending loop. It's not like he's in some simulation. That'd be stupid.
He feels like his body and his decisions are always being controlled by someone else, like he can never be free no matter what he does. No matter what path he takes, no matter what he does that day, everything is planned out for him.
Those words kind of remind him of something someone said about fate once, he doesn't know if he believes in fate or not. He hates the idea of everything he ever does already being set in stone. It's his life, shouldn't he decide how he wants to live it? Shouldn't his decisions change how he ends up? He hopes fate isn't real, or at least isn't set in stone, then he can feel free to do whatever he wants.
It's not like it's the end of the world, even if his fate is set in stone. If it is, he can still try and change it, right? Or maybe he could still make any decision he wanted, if he'd end up in the same place in the end, would it matter what he does?
If he ended up being a hero, would his fate be the same even if he wasn't? Can a decision that is life changing also change fate? So many questions, he wishes someone knew the answer. God, he's really tired.
He lets his mind wander to the park and that stranger. It's a big change in what he was thinking before, but he doesn't mind. He wants to go see them again, he considers them almost a friend at this point; even if he doesn't know their name. Their name, that's right. He should probably get that. Maybe.. Maybe he'd have an actual friend, someone who willingly spends time with him. Maybe..
Izuku's mind wanders to barely lucid thoughts. He felt like he was almost floating. He barely could register the fact he was half asleep, mostly asleep. He could feel himself drifting off before a sudden feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong enters every one of his senses. His back was settling weird, his jaw wasn't closing right, his hair laid the wrong way, he was too hot, he could feel his blood streaming in his veins- he quickly jerked up into a sitting position, now fully awake.
As he finally caught his breath and his heart stopped racing, he slowly laid back down. He tossed and turned, trying desperately to get comfortable as he stared at the wall. He laid there for many minutes trying to get his mind to calm back down before he finally caved in and grabbed his phone, he opened it and stared at the screen for a bit before opening his music app and turning on some random artist that pops up. He makes sure his phone is still plugged in before he sets it down and closes his eyes.
He lets his mind focus on the music and his other thoughts slowly edge out, he feels… weirdly at peace. He's not having biting urges to get off his bed because his bones are settling odd, he doesn't feel like something out of place,
wrong
.
He knows tomorrow will suck, but he tries not to think about it as he drifts off.
He barges into the house, slamming the door open so hard that it cracks against the wall. With the same force, he slams the door shut. He stomps his way to the kitchen and looks at the woman who he grew up to look so much like.
“I’m home hag,” he grunts out.
“Oh hello to you too Katsuki,” Mitsuki replies back. “To what do I owe your pleasantries?” His near doppelganger turns around to look at him as she wipes her wet hands with a cloth.
He grunts, “You still talk with Deku’s old hag, right?”
“Huuhhh?? Of course I do,” she says, it's obvious she's burning to ask questions. “Just because Izuku and you stopped being friends doesn't mean Inko and I did, brat,” she crosses her arms, looking down at him with a look.
“Great, cool,” he looks down, avoiding her obviously very suspicious gaze. “So, anything happening with him.. Uhhh.. recently, I guess.. are.. they , like.. okay?” he was going to ask another question before he was cut off.
“What's this about Katsuki? Is something happening at school? Something with Izuku?” She's still giving him that..
Look
.
“Nothings happening,” he quickly says. He winces when he realizes how suspicious that sounded.
“Bullshit. What happened to Izuku? Is he hurt?” She kept pushing.
“Hag, it's nothing. He was just acting… off I guess. Fuck, I don't know,” from Mitsuki’s point of view, from anyone's point of view really, it’s obvious he’s distraught.
Her stance becomes a little rigid. It's obvious she’s catching onto the lies and half-truths, “Brat, if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now-”
Katsuki cuts her off, “He’s just- I don't know. Acting.. Odd. it's throwing me off,” he reluctantly admits.
From an outsider's perspective, some might think Kastuki’s mom and him have a strained relationship at best when it's actually quite the opposite. If anything, Katsuki’s mom is one of the few people who understands him the most.
Not mentioning the fact they look as if they're the same, their personalities are quite similar too. Which means, his mom is the one who understands him more than anyone. Even when she doesn't, she tries her best.
Katsuki knows he's a difficult person. Of course, he'd never admit that to any living soul, but he knows. He knows he's hard to understand and his decisions aren't always made in the best ways; but he can at least respect his mother for trying to understand him.
She tries because she knows exactly what it's like to be judged based on your personality, based on what you look like from the outside perspective. They’re one in the same. He understands her, she understands him.
His dad is almost the opposite. Not like, completely, polar opposites. He's just not as similar in the personality department. That's not to say they don't get along though. He respects his dad just as much as his mother. He puts up with the two of them and always keeps a calm head when they can't. He understands the best he can even when he would never be able to fully comprehend what he goes through.
He's one of the only other people who have ever understood him, or even come close. Even if his first instinct is to go to his mother, he goes to his dad right after.
He loves the two of them, he just has trouble expressing it sometimes.
Maybe it's the fact his mom has this.. maternal.. energy to her or some shit, maybe it's the fact he knows she'll understand; he opens up to her a lot easier than his dad. His mom might not be the same as other moms, but she's his.
“Throwing you off? Katsuki.. What the hell’s going on? If there's more to this than you're telling me, you need to fess up. I’m seriously about to call Inko right now,” she sits up a little straighter, no longer leaning on the counter at all.
“No, no. You don't need to do all that,” he bites his tongue before he looks at her. “I think something happened to him. To Deku. I don't know what.. Seriously, I'm not lying this time. It's affecting him. It's not as stupid as failing a test or anything like that.. You know how we were younger? How'd he be so hopeful that he could become a hero despite anything? It's almost like.. Almost like he's giving up.. Not like he's given up already, just, on the verge of. He's never been like this. He's off. I don't know.. I don't know if it's my fault or not.. ” he finishes his rant as he leans on the counter, keeping his gaze on his mother.
She looked a little sad as she leaned back on the counter, tension leaking from her shoulders while some stayed present, “Your fault..? Katsuki.. Why would it be your fault? Did something happen..?”
A look of understanding crossed her face as the mother and son sat there for a few seconds, the air seemed to turn stale from how long they'd been there.
“...Oh, Katsuki. I know..” she pauses for a moment before continuing, “It's hard for you to express emotions. Don't give me that face you know I'm right,” she pauses again, seeming to go over the words she wants to say in her head. “I know you won't take this the wrong way, brat. Sometimes you say things that you don't mean in the way they come out, or you do things that weren't the best decision to do in that situation. Now tell me, have you been doing that again? I know you and Izuku are no longer friends, but I also know that it affected you. Did you really drift apart? Or is there more I'm not knowing. Does Izuku have anyone to lean on without you there?” She stood still and silent as he processed the words.
She was right, of course she was right. She’s always right in situations like these. She knows him, she knows how he is, how he retaliates and how he’s strung up on his high horse. She knows he's not the most gentle soul, she knows he's not the best at making good decisions sometimes. If dealing with people were the same as hero work or class work, he'd be the best of the best.
But it's not, it's not the same. He can't deal with people or ever seem to make the right decisions. Not like Deku. The truth is, he envies Deku.
It's not unusual for his mother to say exactly what he needs to hear, as he's said before, they're one in the same. It's also not unusual for him to spill his every sin to her afterwards.
He looks at the ground, grabbing his forearm and tightening his grip impossibly tight.
“I’ve done some bad things mom.. things you wouldn't be proud of..”
“I'm listening, Katsuki. No matter what you've done, you're still my son,” she reassured. He knows that she’d still love him no matter what, even if he needs a little smack in the head to get some sense; which he knows she’ll give to him if he needs it.
So he tells her. He tells her everything. He sits her on the couch and tells her about the bullying, the name calling, the worst of the worst. He watches as many emotions cross her face but he keeps telling her through his cowardness that only surfaces around her.
He mutters out at the end of his admission. He knows she’ll be honest with him, no sugar coating. “Mom..? With all I've done.. Do you.. Do you still think I can be a hero?”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Mitsuki sits on the couch next to her son, looking at him as she's holding both of his hands. It's not the best comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. He's never really been the hugging type anyways.“You want to know what I think? My honest opinion?” She asks him.His face is down, he's scared to see her expression. He's scared to see what she thinks of him now. He squeezes his hands around hers, a little nervous for the answer. He can't be a hero without her support, he can't. He needs her to be there for him like she's been his entire life, even from the background. To him, his mother is responsible for every good he's ever done. The bad, his own.“Yes,” he barely chokes out. By his voice, you can tell he's almost on the verge of tears, of breaking down. Another common occurrence with these types of conversations.She takes his chin in her hand and tilts his head up. As she's smiling down at him, she wipes the tears starting to fall from his face like a little kid seeking comfort from their mother. That's exactly what this is, after all.“Katsuki. You're rough around the edges, but I know my son. I know you'll fix it. You just have to look past this massive shell you've put around yourself. You need to stop doubting yourself and let the people you care about know you care about them. Whether your intentions were in the wrong or right, they've come off as something wrong entirely. I'm not going to berate you; you do it to yourself enough already; too much. If you want to fix things, do it now. Do it before something happens and you cant anymore,” she pauses to wrap her arms around him and pulls him into a hug. Letting his ear press against where she knows he can hear her heartbeat.“Then you can become the hero that I know you'll be.” Izuku wakes up to his alarm. He jolts awake and blinks a few times as he yawns and stretches. He winces a little as a few big pops become the result of that. As he sits up, he looks around. He looks down at his phone and turns his alarm off.He has school today, he knows that.. But what else.. As he slowly wakes up the more he gets up to get ready for the morning, the more his thoughts begin to come together; the more his mind becomes his own. The park, that's right. He needs to get that stranger's name.He starts to feel a little anxious at the idea of talking to someone, but he pushes it aside and finishes getting ready.He yawns again as he collects any supplies he had on his desk and puts it in his bag. He still feels half asleep as he makes his way to school and drags his feet through the halls all the way to the front of his classroom.As he was about to enter, he turned and saw his English teacher approaching him.“It’s Midoriya, right?” the man says as he now stands tall in front of him.“Uh.. Yes? Is there something you need sir?” Izuku stands straighter, looking up at the much taller man.“Actually, I was wondering if you saw the note I left you?”Izuku fidgets with his backpack straps a little, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “Oh, yes, the note.. I actually did see it. I very much appreciate-”“Well, how about it? Meet me after class today? There's some things I'd like to go over since you just seem so eager. Out of everyone in the class, you looked the most interested,” the man interrupted.Well, he seems nice enough. He seems like he doesn't have any bad intentions and Izuku’s never really had one on one time with any teacher before.. He thinks this might be nice for him.“Y-yeah, sure. After class, that works. See you then?” Izuku looked a little hopeful.“Of course Midoriya. See you then,” the man then walked down the hall to his classroom.Izuku stared at where the man was seconds ago. He just agreed to go meet him after class, alone. By himself. He's never been with a teacher completely by himself. Normally there was his mom, or the principal or someone else from his class. Not this time.He sighs and makes his way inside the classroom he's in front of, taking his seat and pulling out his notebook. He doodles in the corners of the pages as his mind wanders.This teacher really seems to like him. It's kinda.. Nice. He likes the attention, the positive attention. It's been so long since he's had that,, he actually doesn't remember the last time he had that, the last time he had anything other than negative or neutral reinforcement on his studies. He doesn't know how to feel anything other than happiness from it.His head perks up a little as he looks to the door, only to see spiky blonde hair. He quickly adverts his gaze but he must've been too late since he walks right up to his desk. He slowly looks up and meets the piercing red eyes.“Deku, what the hell are you doing,” Katsuki stands next to Izuku’s desk, crossing his arms and looking down at him.“Uhm.. w-writing? In m-”“Whatever, don't care. Just, meet me after school. Where's a good place for you?” Huh?A good place? For what.. To get beat up by him and his lackeys?“M-Maybe the park? The one we used to go to when we w-were kids.. I was pl-planning on stopping b-by today..”Katsuki’s shifts on his feet a little, looking back and forth from the door, back to him. Probably making sure nobody sees him talking to him.“I'll be there after school. Don't be fucking late, Nerd,” Katsuki walks off to his desk, sitting down and staring to the front of the class; not daring to look his direction at all.That was weird. What could he possibly want with him? It didn't seem like an invitation to get beat up, since nobody was around and it looked like he was making sure of that. Normally, if he's going to get beat up they don't have him pick a place for it either. They'd do it inside the classroom or right outside the school; it's not like anybody ever stops them anyways.As he makes his gaze meet his notebook once again, his mind wanders. He's not thinking about anything in particular, just; in his own head. There's a name for that, right?The school day ends pretty normally, English was his last class today so he stuck behind after school. He packed up his things slower than usual to avoid confrontation with his classmates before he made his way to the front of the class.“Mr. Gavin?” He looked at the teacher in his chair as he was writing something on his paper.Mr. Gavin looked up at him with a smile on his face.“Ah, yes, Midoriya. I did ask to speak with you today, that's right. Sorry, I’m very forgetful sometimes,” the man had a relaxing tone to his voice, almost like it was drawing Izuku in.“D-Don't worry about it s-sir, It’s alright. W-What exactly did you want me t-to stay after class for again?” He tilted his head a little as he anxiously forced the question out.“Well, as I said before; I know you are very interested in this subject. I wanted to have some one-on-one time with you because of it. You see, it's very hard to find someone as interested as you..” The more Izuku listened to the man, the more he was captivated by his voice. He didn't know what it was about it that made him have the urge to listen, no matter what.He'd think about it later.“Well I a-appreciate the offer, s-sir.. But are you r-really sure you want to spend extra time on s-someone like m-me?” Izuku knew all too well about people wasting their time on him. Whether it be wasting too much time trying to make him understand something or wasting time hanging out with him when they eventually find him too boring.“Of course I'm sure Midoriya, if you're worried I care about what your peers say, I don’t” Not exactly what he was worried about, but close enough.Izuku stood in place awkwardly as he picked the skin around his nails. They sat in silence as his teacher typed something up on his computer. Before long Izuku felt hands pulling his apart, effectively stopping his nail picking.“That’ll ruin your fingers you know, you should take better care of yourself,” The man held Izuku’s hands in his.His hands were gentle, his touch was gentle. Izuku wasn't used to this kind of touch, gentle touch. He hasn't been touched for anything other than being hit or shoved in so long.Izuku stared down at the man's hands, soaking in the feeling of the gentleness before the man let go of his hands.As he let go, Izuku looked at his face. He let his hands fall to his sides and instead fidgeted with his uniform.“I-I take care of m-myself..” And he does. It's not like he's dirty, he showers, and has basic hygiene. He isn't starving himself, even if he skips out on a few meals, he might push himself but if that's what he has to do to be a hero, then he’ll do it.He might be a bit touch-starved, but he isn't sure that means he's not taking care of himself. He takes care of himself physically and mentally, he's just not very strong. That's all. “If you ever need any help, or anything at all.. I'll be here. Don't be afraid to ask for help Midoriya. I’ll help you in any way I can,” Izuku wasn't sure he believed it, but something in his mind made him want to.It didn't feel like this thing in his mind was forcing him to believe it, more.. trying to persuade him into believing it. Making it seem like it was his idea to believe it, he almost wanted to.For as wary as Izuku was, he's always wanted someone to lean on. Someone to have his back. It's a bit pathetic, to have a teacher be the only person that has his back. But he doesn't mind. Someone in his corner is still someone. Someone other than himself.As Izuku and Mr. Gavin were sitting in comfortable silence, Izuku suddenly felt very warm. Well, his body did. Not like he was physically getting warmer, more of a mental thing. He felt, seen, taken care of. And an old, hollow part of him was starting to be filled, even a little.To have someone who wanted him there was.. Nice. It was comforting. He felt seen when Mr. Gavin told him he didn't care what his peers said about him. That he didn't listen to the rumors and sneers. That he wanted him to stay after class so they could peacefully talk anyways.Even if they didn't have some groundbreaking conversation, even if Izuku did not spill his guts out to him. Even if Mr. Gavin still doesn't really know him, doesn't know anything beyond what a file says about him, he feels like something changed in him. He feels as if Mr. Gavin is a bit like a friend.As the two talked a little more about classes and times Izuku could meet, he suddenly felt like he was forgetting something. He sat and thought for a moment before quickly scrambling to get out the door.“S-Sorry to leave you Mr. Gavin!! I-I’ve got to meet someone!! I’ll t-talk another day! Thank you!”As he runs off, he prays and hopes Kacchan isn't mad at him when he gets to the park.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Kacchan had to be mad, no, not even mad. Beyond pissed. Even if Izuku had rushed to get to the park as soon as he remembered, he was sure it wasn't enough. He made Kacchan wait for 30 minutes.Though, as Izuku approached the park, he noticed Kacchans body language wasn't rough; well it was, but it's Kacchan. But he didn't seem that angry, he supposed. He didn't know how to feel about it.He was hesitant to approach the park. He didn't know what to expect going into this. If Kacchan seemed mad at least he could expect to get hit or something. But he didn't even know why Kacchan wanted to meet him.Kacchan was sitting on a bench close to the tree he had met the purple haired stranger. He really needs to get their name. As he approached the bench, Kacchan made no move to look his way. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.As he took the last few steps to the bench, he awkwardly sat next to him. He fidgeted with his backpack straps and kept his gaze down. It seemed like Kacchan had a lot on his mind, was he mad at him? Was he going to be hit? Or criticized? He wasn't sure if he was supposed to start talking first, or if he should let Kacchan get his thoughts together.Just as he was about to open his mouth, Kacchan spoke.“What took you so long?” He seemed to ground out.“So-sorry, the teacher wanted to speak with me,” Izuku kept his voice low, not being confident enough to raise it higher than a tone you would use at the library.Kacchan let out a small grunt of acknowledgement after a second. Izuku felt a little awkward. How long had it been since he and Kacchan had sat within 5 feet of each other without him ending up with fresh bruises on his shoulders and ribs?He quickly dismissed that train of thought.“I came to.. to say something. I don't know how to get it out, or how to word it,” Kacchan said suddenly.Izuku was a little taken aback. Kacchan didn't know how to say something? He wasn't sure how to get it out? What could Kacchan want to say that he can't just say?The thing about Kacchan is, he's blunt. Blunt and abrasive. He doesn't care if what he said will hurt your feelings, he's not afraid to say it. Izuku admires him because of that. Not just that, of course. He admires many things about him, that's just one of the many.“U-uhm.. Well, just.. say it? I'm sure I can handle it…” Izuku dared to look in his direction, only to see how tense and rigid his body was. It was an odd look to see on someone like Kacchan.“It's not that I don't think you can't handle it, shitty nerd. I don't care if you can handle it or not.. I’m.. I dont know how to fucking say it, okay?” Kacchans body becomes more and more tense. He was really trying to say what he's thinking, wasn't he?Izuku became a little scared, why was it so hard for Kacchan to say what he wanted to?As more seconds passed, Izuku's fidgeting increased tenfold. He’d fidget with his backpack straps down to his shoelaces to try and keep his brain from imploding of suspense. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He wasn't sure if it would be wrong of him to try and start the conversation? Or maybe try and force the words out of his mouth?As they sat there, Izuku eventually looked up at the sky. It was later in the afternoon, so the sun was starting to set a little and the sky was turning an orange as the two boys sat there for what seemed like hours. Neither of them seemed to mind the silence.After a few minutes, Katsuki finally seemed to get his thoughts together and managed to talk.“I’m.. I’m sorry, Izuku. I know this doesn't change anything, and I know you don't have to forgive me,” Izuku looked at Katsuki, shell shocked. He didn't know how to react, he didn't know why it was so hard to comprehend the words he's longed to hear for so long.“You don't have to forgive me, I just want you to hear me. You've always been this quirkless, weak loser, but somehow you were always a constant in my life. You always were there, despite how many people came and went; you were always there with your shitty hero notes and your shitty muttering and your shitty yellow beat up backpack we’ve had since elementary,” as he continued, izuku continued to stare at him. He continued to stare at him like he was some creature from another world. He was completely still as he took in every word, every breath coming from the other boy beside him.He continued, “This last week, honestly, scared me a little. You missed school, you acted all weird. There were even class periods you weren't using to stuff your face into that damn notebook of yours,” he stopped to take a breath, keeping his head down.“You have every right to not tell me anything. What happened is your business and whoever else is all tied up in it and your business alone. As long as you're not in immediate danger, you don't have to tell me- even- even if you are in immediate danger, you don't have to tell me. Just, just at least tell someone else. If not me, someone else. Always have someone watching your back, Izuku. You don't have to always do shit alone. Shitty nerd,” As he finished, he finally looked over at Izuku. His face was carefully blank, unreadable. Izuku sniffed as his eyes turned wet and his face scrunched up to try and keep the tears in.Katsuki’s face went from a blank slate to a grimace in an instant, “I didn’t tell you to start sobbing and getting your snot everywhere, stupid.”Izuku’s hands twitched before he suddenly threw himself at Katsuki, wrapping arms around him and hugging him tightly.“Deku! What the hell are you doing-”Izuku suddenly leaned back, staring Katsuki dead in the eyes.“You’re right, this doesn't have to change anything between us. But I think it will. I know I will forgive you, I know I will. But, right now; i really just need to get my thoughts together. I'm not saying I hate you, because I could never hate Kacchan! This just, it kind of came out of nowhere, is all. Thank you, though. You have no idea how much this means to me.”As Izuku finished, Katsuki turned his head away, stood up and kicked at the sidewalk. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you Shitty nerd. You didn't have to get all sentimental on me. Weirdo. I'll see you around,” Katsuki left before Izuku could get another word in.Izuku knew not to take it to heart, he watched Katsuki as far as he could until he turned the corner, never looking back. He never knows what could possibly go inside Katsukis head. Maybe something happened to make him apologize? Maybe it was a change of heart? He doesn't know. He's just glad it happened.Even if it came a little late, this is proof Kacchan doesn't hate him! Atleast, not enough to never fix things between them. He hopes this can be some sort of start to being friends again.Izuku smiled to himself, he was happy. He sat on the bench until the sun went down.