Chapter Text
Kacchan is missing. Kacchan is gone and it’s all Izuku’s fault. Everyone is telling him it isn’t, but he knows the truth.
The thought makes him sick. When the hospital staff comes to deliver his food, it looks somehow more unappetizing than normal hospital food. This isn’t too unusual, as stressful situations have often pushed Izuku to intense nausea.
He pushes his food aside, untouched, as his classmates enter his room.
“Yo, Midori-bro!” Calls Kirishima, more enthusiastic than Izuku has seen him since the training camp. “Yaoyorozu said she would help us, and gave us a copy of the tracking device she put on the Nomu - we might just have a chance to find Bakubro!”
Izuku feels a rush of hope, plans already forming in his head. They might be able to save Kacchan, after all.
----------------
Somehow, miraculously, their plan worked. They were able to sneak in, practically unnoticed, and get Kacchan out of the hands of the League.
The League, which is apparently run by All for One. Izuku knew it was a possibility, but having it confirmed makes his stomach roll with anxiety.
He currently stands with the rest of the rescue team and Kacchan, watching with bated breath as All Might throws one last, victorious punch at All for One. For a moment, everyone is completely silent. Smoke steams off of All Might, blocking the camera recording the fight.
The smoke clears. Instead of All Might’s hulking form, they now see tall, thin Yagi. Blood trails from his mouth, and his hero costume hangs limply on him.
He slowly raises an arm, pointing toward the camera. “You’re next.”
The crowd stills. Then, they roar.
A strange combination of joy, giddiness, and sudden dread swirl in Izuku’s gut. Those two simple words were directed at him, he knows. Tears drip down his face and he brings up a hand to unsuccessfully stifle his sobs.
If he’d had anything in his stomach, it might have been lost. As it stands, the hollowness in his stomach is a comforting almost-distraction for the increasingly heavy weight (the weight of a responsibility, of a symbol, of an expectation) he now feels on his shoulders.
--------------
Though it’s a relief to have Kacchan out of the hands of the League, Izuku draws little comfort from it. It had been his fault Kacchan had been taken in the first place. If he had been just a little faster, a little stronger, he might have been able to pull his childhood friend out of the way before the portal closed.
If he had been better, All Might would still have his hero form.
Instead, Izuku is left with the painful reminder that he is supposed to be All Might’s successor. Meant to be better, even, than the Symbol of Peace. Meant to take down the League, eventually.
Even with All for One locked in Tartarus, there is always the possibility he won’t stay there. The thought makes Izuku shudder.
How is he supposed to defeat the League - defeat All for One - become the next All Might, when he can’t get through a simple villain fight without being seriously injured? When he still feels so far behind his classmates?
He’s known for a while now that he was going to succeed All Might, one day. He just never expected it to be this soon.
All Might was an unstoppable figure, even after Izuku found out his secret. He couldn’t be beaten. He stood strong as the Symbol of Peace, smile never faltering.
And now, that Symbol of Peace is gone. It’s up to Izuku now.
The thought adds more weight to his already slumped shoulders.
“Izuku! Time for dinner!” His mother calls from the kitchen.
He joins her, taking his seat at the table. A mountain of curry sits in front of him. It makes his stomach church uncomfortably.
They begin eating, and he picks at his food with his chopsticks, occasionally bringing small bites of rice to his mouth.
His mother, ever perceptive, takes notice.
“Izuku, honey, are you feeling okay?” She had been initially furious when he’d returned home from his impromptu rescue mission, but after seeing the look on his face, had grown instead worried. That same worry shows up now.
“I’m okay, Mom,” he answers quietly. “Just… not super hungry, sorry.”
She furrows her brows further. “I… okay. You don’t have to finish, if you’re not feeling well. Just, please promise you’ll tell me if something is wrong?”
And now he’s making his mom worry. He’s never been great at hiding his emotions, but now he wishes he could, if only to ease her mind. Instead, he nods, trying for a small smile and a quiet “Okay, I will.”
He returns his food and walks back to his room. Lying on his bed and staring at the wall, he finds a small comfort in the low rumbling of his stomach, combatting his racing thoughts.
----------------
School resumes the next day. Izuku, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, Iida, and Uraraka get a thorough chastisement from Aizawa, but in a show of mercy, he only puts them on temporary probation.
The rest of the day, and the rest of that week, goes by quickly, almost outside of Izuku’s notice. If he focuses hard enough, he can remember certain details. Everything else is fuzzy, and details slip out of his reach like sand sifting through fingers.
It should probably worry him more than it does, but as things stand, Izuku can’t bring himself to care. Not when it feels like his whole life has changed, while the world keeps moving without him.
His nausea has eased up, as it usually does, but even so, can’t bring himself to eat all of his lunch every day. Instead, he sits and picks at it, trying to keep conversation with his friends. Most things slide away from his notice, but he puts on a smile and simply says he’s tired when his friends ask him what’s wrong.
His mom still watches him as if he is fragile, so he makes more of an effort to put on a smile and be as okay as he can be. It works well enough that she allows him to move into the dorms, despite her obvious reluctance, when Yagi comes to explain the new system to them.
It still makes Izuku’s head spin when he thinks about how sincerely Yagi had promised to look out for him. It had lifted some of the weight, but also added to his already guilty conscience.
A blink later, and he’s moved into the dorms with his other classmates. The room decorating competition had been fun - a nice change of pace.
That night, even in a new space, Izuku manages to fall asleep without troubles for the first time in a while.
-----------------
Izuku ducks and rolls under Ashido’s acid-covered kick. It takes more energy than he’d like to admit to jump back up, even with One for All at 8%.
He has to jump back from a spray of acid, then runs back in to try to kick her knees out from under her. Ashido leaps back in one smooth moment, then rushes toward him faster than Izuku expects, knocking him to the ground and holding him there.
“Woah, I didn’t think I’d actually win that one!” Ashido exclaims, pumping her arms up victoriously. She then extends a hand to Izuku, bringing him up to his feet.
He tries to hide the way his vision starts going black for a moment, but ends up swaying slightly. Ashido frowns at him. “Are you okay, Midori? You look kinda pale.”
“Yeah, I’m okay!” Izuku tries his best to bring enthusiasm and a smile with his words.
Truthfully, he’s exhausted. This week’s training has been… different than usual. He’s somehow low on energy, and finds himself with small bouts of light-headedness when he tries to execute more difficult moves.
It makes sense, logically. He’s lower on sleep than usual, and still hasn’t fully gained his appetite back.
He ignores his logical side and instead chooses to believe it’s because he needs to work harder - he isn’t good enough yet, and needs to be better. He can’t let some stupid dizziness get in his way, especially now that they’re preparing for their provisional hero licenses.
“Nice fight, Ashido.” Aizawa says from the side. “Be careful not to waste too much of your acid while you spar - it could prove disastrous if you run dry during a real villain fight, in the future.”
She gives him a sharp salute with a broad grin.
“Midoriya, that was sloppy. Be more aware and ready to move, next time.”
Izuku nods guiltily. He walks to the side next to Todoroki, who hands him a water bottle. Izuku knows him well enough to take that as the sign of concern that it is.
“I’m alright, Todoroki. Thanks for the water.”
Todoroki nods his head, though he doesn’t look away from Izuku for a couple more seconds. Izuku promptly ignores him in favor of taking a few gulps of water, hoping it will help clear his head.
The next round of sparring starts, drawing Izuku’s attention away from his classmates subtly looking at him in thinly-veiled concern.
-----------------
Izuku smiles - truly smiles - for the first time in what feels like a very long time. He’s done it! Even his horrific picture on his license can’t bring down his giddy mood.
The exam wasn’t easy, and there were several moments where it had been hard to think, hard to move, but he and his classmates had made it through. Toga invading the exam hadn’t been expected, but luckily, nobody had been hurt. For once, Izuku doesn’t allow the League’s looming threat to dampen his spirits.
He had worked hard for this. Trained longer than usual in his room, waking up earlier to go on his daily run, pushed himself during hero exercises, and it had finally paid off. Some of the weight has lifted, allowing him a breath of fresh air. He can allow himself this one victory, right?
Izuku is quick to send a picture of his new license to Yagi and his mother, before joining his classmates as they walk to the bus.
They are both proud and enthusiastic, and Izuku’s mother insists on treating him to his favorite meal as a reward. He makes the arrangements with Aizawa, and that weekend, he is able to go home for the first time since he’s moved to the dorms.
It’s nice to be home. He can’t imagine how lonely his mother must have been without him around. He should visit her more often, especially if she is going to make food like this.
The steaming bowl of katsudon is practically sparkling with how delicious it looks. For the first time in a while, Izuku feels hungry. Really, really hungry.
It had been easy to ignore when he was really stressed about the licensing exam and everything relating to the whole “Kacchan-captured-by-the-League” thing, but now that some of that stress has been resolved, Izuku is starving.
He holds himself back from shoveling the food into his mouth, but only barely.
After a few minutes, more than half the plate is gone, and his stomach is already uncomfortably full. That’s strange, Izuku realizes, because he usually eats more than this plate, at least 3 times a day, to keep up with his increased metabolism due to One for All.
The food sits like a leaden weight in his stomach, suddenly. It pushes uncomfortably on his stomach, and he clutches at it for a moment, confused at the sensation.
“Izuku, baby, are you alright? Is the food okay?”
Izuku jolts his head up to catch his mother looking at him in concern. Again. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration and smiles, but here Izuku goes, bringing down the mood over something as stupid as… whatever this is.
“Ah, s-sorry, Mom! I’m alright, and the food is delicious!” He tries to emphasize his point by bringing another spoonful into his mouth. Some distant part of his mind screams at him that he shouldn’t be doing that. He dutifully ignores it, taking another bite, even as his stomach protests.
His mother doesn’t look like she believes it, but she nods anyway.
They continue their conversation, which mainly consists of Izuku rambling on and on about the exam and the quirks he saw there.
She smiles warmly at him. It works wonders to keep the weight off, and he can feel some long-held tension slowly bleed away.
-----------------
Living in the dorms is definitely a change of pace. For one, Izuku isn’t used to having more than one other person in his living space, let alone 19 other lively teenagers.
That fact alone leads to, predictably, a lot of chaos. What Izuku is used to being quiet study time, or time to catch up on recent hero news, is now taken up by much of the class playing video games and engaging in other tomfoolery.
Izuku ends up spending most evenings doing homework in his room, though he will occasionally join his friends for group study that usually ends up dissolving into meaningless chatter. It’s a nice change of pace.
His mother tried her absolute best, and he loves her for it, but there had been many times when she would be out of the house in the evenings due to her busy work schedule. And Izuku, without any friends, would spend many evenings alone. Having real friends to be around all day is, surprisingly, quite wonderful.
They quickly work out a meal rotation, assigning various classmates to cook, pick up groceries, and clean up afterwards. This leads to them spending most dinners all crowded together.
For some reason, this kicks up Izuku’s anxiety, especially the first few times. He attributes it to there being more people than he’s used to, and pushes through most meals.
He’s still not particularly hungry most days, so he grabs smaller portions than he normally would, but nobody comments on it. He does try to eat it all though, even when that small, traitorous voice in his mind tries to talk him out of it.
On nights when his plate is fully eaten, and he even goes to get seconds or thirds because his stomach is full but he feels some desperate need to eat more , some part of him feels regret. He forcefully pushes that part in a dark corner of his mind, where it won’t be noticed or felt again. Hopefully.
Some days, when his anxiety goes overboard when he tries to think about dinner with his classmates, he ends up leaving to go eat something small in his room instead.
Iida or Uraraka will often bring up leftovers, because they’re incredible friends like that, and Izuku usually ends up leaving it sitting on his desk.
He tells himself he’ll eat it later.
He never does.
--------------------
Izuku brings up his hand to grab his pencil, ready to pack up before lunch, only to notice it shaking. Not harshly, but his fingers are quivering, and when he tries to make it stop, it only grows worse.
“Yo, Midoriya, you good? You look like you’re shaking,” Sero quips from the seat next to Izuku.
He lowers his hand to his desk, glancing at Sero quickly. “O-oh, yeah, haha. It must be, uh, my arthritis, or maybe I’m just nervous for my internship, I guess?”
It holds some semblance of the truth. He truly is nervous to be interning with Sir Nighteye, the only sidekick All Might has ever had. Granted, he doesn’t officially start for a few more days, but his nerves still get the better of him when he thinks about Nighteye’s harsh criticism and obvious disdain for Izuku.
So, that is probably a contributor to the whole hand-shakiness. Izuku has been noticing it happening more and more recently. Otherwise, he isn’t fully sure.
(And sure, maybe he does know why, but he can still pretend, right?)
Sero seems to accept his answer with an easy shrug and a grin.
Izuku tries not to act too relieved as he hurriedly shoves his backpack on his shoulders and speed-walks away. His friends wait for him right outside the door.
They chatter about nothing too important as they head towards the cafeteria. Right before they enter, Izuku ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck.
“S-sorry, guys. I just, uh, remembered that All Might and I are meeting during lunch, so I’ve got to go!”
“What, again?” Asks Uraraka. “That’s like, the second time this week, and it’s only Wednesday.”
In all reality, Izuku isn’t meeting with All Might. He just… doesn't want to head to the cafeteria for lunch, yet again. It puts an unnameable dread in the pit of his stomach, and his anxiety has been even worse than his new usual, today. Can you blame him?
He opens his mouth to respond, flush creeping up his neck, but Iida thankfully jumps in.
“Meeting with our teachers is a very important occasion, Uraraka-san!” He chops his arm forcefully. “We really shouldn’t press too much. Just make sure you eat enough to stay properly fueled for training this afternoon!”
He sends a glance towards Izuku, who sheepishly nods. “I will, Iida-kun, don’t worry. I’ll, uh, see you after lunch?”
They both look sufficiently appeased. Todoroki and Tsuyu, ever observant, glance over at him in suspicion for a moment.
He sends them as bright of a smile as he can (why is it so hard to do that now? He wonders distantly) and they all turn away after a quick wave.
Izuku lets out a sigh of relief.
A few days prior Izuku had discovered an empty, seemingly abandoned classroom in the corner of the 2nd floor. He slips in that same room now, closing it silently.
Dust covered tables and chairs are stacked up against one wall, and boxes filled with a random assortment of extra materials are scattered around the rest of the room. It’s smaller than most other classrooms, and has a slight scent of something old, but it’s unnoticed by everyone and is even missing the surveillance cameras that are present in every other room on campus.
It’s perfect.
Here, Izuku can just be himself. He settles in a small nook hidden between boxes and exhales, sinking his head onto his knees. In this room, he can calm his racing mind and try to settle his shaking hands. Here, he doesn’t have to be Deku, the perfect hero course student and All Might’s protegee.
Especially with the dorms in place, it has become even harder for Izuku to take time to himself and feel fully relaxed. It’s almost as if the air pressuring his chest is released, at least a little.
He stays there, curled into himself and simply breathing, until the end of lunch comes.
The weight settles back on his shoulders as he stands, ready to return to class for the rest of the day.
--------------------
Izuku nearly slams his door behind him as he enters his room. He has enough common sense to stop its momentum before it does, lest he cause more of a disturbance than he already has.
He’s just so… frustrated. He doesn’t get angry often, but when he does, it burns white-hot in his gut. It seems that he gets angry more often than usual, lately.
Why is he so upset? Iida had been in the middle of one of his concerned lectures, going on about the “importance of a balanced, full diet” in an effort to get Izuku to stay for dinner. In typical Iida-fashion, the words had been loud and drawn the attention of everyone in the room. Which is to say, all of Izuku’s classmates.
Iida continued, unbothered. “You’ve skipped out on several meals with the class, Midoriya-kun, and it is important to take that time to bond together!”
“Iida-kun, please, I’m good. I-I’ll join you guys tomorrow, okay?”
They were all staring, now, making Izuku feel hot and uncomfortable. Why couldn’t Iida just leave him be?
“Yeah, c’mon, Midoriya!” shouted Hagakure.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Tsuyu said, tapping her chin. “We are all just a little worried, I think, kero.”
Kaminari spoke up from the couch. “Yeah dude, you’ve seemed a little off lately. Is everything okay?”
Everyone nodded emphatically, and it only made him feel both too small and shoved in the spotlight at the same time. Like a cornered animal. (And why should he feel like that? These are his classmates - he trusts them wholeheartedly. Why is he so scared?)
“I’m fine !” Izuku shouted, louder than he intended. Now they all look more worried. For some reason, the embarrassment makes him angrier. He can’t be here anymore.
As he rushed out of the room to go up the stairs, all eyes still trailing him.
So now here he is, fuming and pacing in his room. Why did they all care? He knows he should be joining them more often, but it’s just too much sometimes. Why can’t they understand that?
More than that, though, Izuku is upset at himself for being so upset. They were just being good friends. Why did this bother him so much? This whole ordeal feels so much different from Izuku’s usual mess of issues.
Anxiety is a familiar friend to Izuku, and he’s mostly learned to manage it. Even still, it almost never leaves, settling over him and making him more paranoid and cautious of everyone and everything.
But, since coming to U.A., things had been so much better. Even with the pressure of training and villain attacks, the simple comfort of learning that his classmates and teachers weren’t out to get him and genuinely appreciated him (and how weird is that ) had helped his anxiety lower by leaps and bounds.
It still feels too good to be true, sometimes. Like one day he’ll wake up from this wonderful dream and they will all know who he really is. That they’ll all treat him like he deserves.
But now, it’s like all of his progress has been lost in one fell swoop. He feels so tense and heavy and tight all the time, like he can’t ever fully relax.
And now, it’s gotten bad enough that his peers have started to notice.
The more Izuku thinks about it, the more guilt he feels about the whole ordeal. His friends hadn’t even said anything out of the ordinary, and yet he’d reacted so strongly.
He’s still feeling wound up and angry, despite his best efforts to calm down, and it only makes him more upset. He should be better than this. He has been better than this. UA is different, and he has real friends, and he is competent and capable ( only sometimes , his mind helpfully supplies). He has a quirk and is being mentored by All Might.
So why is he letting something as simple as a… what, concerned confrontation at best? Mess with him this much.
Strangely, it feels like Izuku is losing control over his emotions and even some motor functions. He can’t even pick up a pencil without his hands shaking, most of the time. And though he is famous for the “Midoriya waterworks” as his classmates endearingly call it, he is still able to exercise some self control. What’s changed? Why can’t he just be normal, for once in his life?
The thought makes his frustration burn bright and sharp in the front of his mind.
Regardless, he shouldn’t have snapped at his classmates. It had only worked to draw more attention to him and his lack of appetite, and really, they shouldn’t be bothering themselves with that.
The more time he spends stewing over it, the more his anger turns to dread. How quickly did he just ruin his relationships with his first and only friends? Will they hate him forever? Will they only become more concerned and pushy? Izuku doesn’t know if he can handle that much attention.
He wishes more than anything that he could sink into the floor and disappear.
His classmates leave him alone for the rest of the night, to which Izuku is grateful. The next day, he resolves to put on his brightest smile and be more present with the rest of the class.
Nobody mentions the previous night’s incident, and Izuku is happy to leave it be. He’s got everything under control, and everyone should just forget anything ever happened.
But when has it ever been that simple?
------------------
(When he lays in bed that night, riddled with guilt, he draws some sick comfort in the emptiness of his growling stomach. He’s both hungry, and not, and it’s strange.
It shouldn’t bring him comfort. But it does .)