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Izuku was tired.
Not the kind of tiredness that you felt when you had to wake up early in the morning or when you didn’t get enough sleep. No, this tiredness was different. This was how what you felt when you were too tired to live. When life got a little too much. The kind of tiredness that made you want to fall asleep and never wake up.
Izuku knew he should talk to someone. He knew this wasn’t healthy. He knew he needed help. Needed therapy.
But honestly?
Izuku didn’t want help. He didn’t want to be saved. No one had saved him when he truly needed it so why start now? Honestly, Izuku just wanted it all to be over. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted all the pressure to go away.
Izuku wasn’t cut out to be a hero. He knew that, everyone knew that. If they didn’t, then they were even more delusional than he was. Despite the front he put up for everyone else, Izuku had accepted it. If he was truly meant to be a hero, the universe would have given him his own quirk, after all.
But instead he had a borrowed one. One for All. It didn’t matter how many times he used this quirk, how many times they claimed he would be an amazing hero. It didn’t matter how many times someone boasted about how powerful he was. Because no matter what, underneath all of it, Izuku was still just that weak, quirkless boy. And everyone knew the quirkless couldn’t be heroes.
Maybe that’s why Izuku found himself sitting on the roof of the main building. He had his notebook in his hands. He had to write a letter after all. He owed them that at least.
He started with his classmates. That one was the easiest. All he had to tell was how much he believed in them. He didn’t think they’d be too sad. Maybe his friends would be, but he wasn’t all that important and they would get over it in a few days.
The next was his mother’s. Izuku loved his mother, he really did, but there were times when he wondered if she wished he hadn’t been born. Don’t get him wrong, he knew his mother loved him. Or at least, she did at one point. But Izuku’s diagnosis had ruined her life. Her husband had left, she’d lost a majority of her friends, and now the landlord charged them twice as much.
Izuku had gotten a job at a local grocery store to help them out. The owner paid him less than half of his earned salary, but it still was enough to at least help pay for groceries. It didn’t matter as long as he was helping. So he ignored the fact that his mother only bought enough groceries for herself. He ignored the way she was only home when he wasn’t.
It was fine. Did he feel like a guest in his own house? Absolutely. But there was no time to dwell on it. He’d already wasted enough time as it was.
Finishing up his mother’s letter, he moved to All Might’s. He didn’t have a lot to say to his mentor. He knew Yagi would be disappointed in him. He was a terrible successor. He had no idea why Yagi had picked him in the first place.
Sir Nighteye had been right. Mirio really would be the better candidate. Izuku didn’t even mind. Sure, it had hurt at the time, but honestly Izuku would rather have never gotten the quirk.
Izuku was getting off track. He wrote a short apology and then his written permission for the quirk to be passed on to Mirio or anyone All Might selected. He plucked a hair off his head and folded it in with the letter. With that out of the way, he turned to the last two letters.
He did Kacchan’s first. He had no idea what to say, honestly. Despite everything his former childhood friend had said and done to him, it truly wasn’t his fault Izuku was doing this. Sure, Kacchan had been the one to hand him to gun, but it was everyone else who had loaded and cocked it. Deep down, Izuku knew that Katsuki hadn’t meant it and that is why he would never blame him.
Well, he supposed that’s all he had to say. He was on the last letter now. It’d been a little over half and hour since he first came up here. He needed to hurry up. The last letter was to Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta. Present Mic and Eraserhead. The only two teachers to completely believe in him, and the only reason he’d even lasted this long.
Even before he’d met them, they’d kept him going. Present Mic was known for supporting and protecting rights, and Eraserhead fought quirkless. They’d managed to keep his dream a float when no one else had. They’d given him some hope, unknowingly supported his escape from the harsh reality that was his life.
And then he met them, and it was like they were 1000 times better in person. Yamada was so kind and Izuku loved their early morning conversations. Even if sometimes he had a feeling he was bothering the man. Aizawa was strict but Izuku could tell he cared about the class. A warm feeling grew in Izuku’s chest every time Aizawa praised him or told him he was proud of him
He felt like he could really trust them. He wanted to thank them. Even if it wasn’t enough to make him want to live, they’d kept gave him some happiness. He was enterally grateful for that.
With all the letters finished, Izuku stood and removed his backpack and shoes. He pulled out an envelope and carefully placed the letters inside. He didn’t want them to be ruined. He laid the envelope against his backpack and neatly lined his shoes up against the ledge.
He took a deep breath and looked out at the skyline. The sun wouldn’t rise for a few more hours. It was still pretty late at night. Or early in the morning, he supposed, glancing down at his watch. 2 AM. Everyone should either be asleep or in their dorms. Plus, it was a weekend so everyone would be getting up later.
Izuku closed his eyes and took a step off the ledge.
Somewhere behind him, he heard a shout. In the back of his mind, he registered it as Aizawa’s.
Shouta was heading back to their dorm from the teacher’s lounge. His husband, Yamada Hizashi, was by his side, chattering about a new guest on his radio show.
It was late and they had just finished grading papers and running some errands for Nedzu. Honestly, Shouta wanted to just lie down in bed and sleep for a million years. He loved his students but grading their analysis papers had been painful. Most of them just stated the obvious or got off track. Except Midoriya’s paper, of course. Shouta had enjoyed his.
Thinking of the green haired boy brought a small smile to Shouta’s lips. Midoriya was so smart. His analysis was unlike anything Shouta had ever seen and he knew that with some more years to polish of his skills and a good teacher, Midoriya could be one of if not the best.
Shouta was proud of his student. He’d come a long way and Shouta couldn’t wait to see where he went next. He was glad he hadn’t expelled the boy. Midoriya had proved him wrong. He had some of the most heroic potential Shouta had ever seen.
Hizashi was close to the boy as well. Shouta knew Hizashi adored the boy and looked forward to their morning talks. Honestly, if Izuku didn’t have parents, Shouta and Hizashi would have adopted him by now. They would love nothing more than for him to be their kid. The couple had grown way too attached, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.
Unfortunately, they couldn’t adopt the boy as he wasn’t an orphan or in foster care—they’d checked—so they just had to be content with their current relationship. They could live with only being father figures.
Hizashi suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway and Shouta would have bumped into him of it hadn’t been for his situational awareness.
“Seriously, Hizashi? What-" Shouta froze as he took in his husband’s expression. Hizashi was pale, a look of horror coming over his face. Hesitantly, Shouta followed the blonde man’s gaze up to the main building. He felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him.
There was a silhouette on the roof of the main building.
They had a jumper.
Shouta started sprinting. Hizashi followed on his heels. He barely registered his mouth moving, shouting orders to his husband to get ready to call an ambulance. He pushed his legs faster and faster. That was a kid on the roof. He couldn’t even bring himself to think of what would happen if he didn’t get there in time.
He took the stairs two at a time. He stumbled and nearly fell down the steps, but managed to keep his balance last minute. He slammed the roof access door open. The shout died in his throat.
Green hair.
Bright red shoes.
That was his Problem Child on the ledge.
His moment of hesitation was just long enough for Midoriya to take a step off the ledge. A scream erupted from his lips and he darted forward.
“Izuku!”
He reached the ledge and shot his capture scarf out. By some miracle, it caught him. Shouta pulled him up and nearly slumped in relief when the boy fell into his arms. He silently thanked the universe as Hizashi joined them.
His husband let out a sob of relief and pulled the boy into a hug. Shouta forced himself to take deep breaths to calm his raging heartbeat. He could hear the teenager sobbing into Hizashi’s chest. Eventually the kid quieted down as he cried himself to sleep.
Shouta grabbed Izuku’s shoes and backpack while Hizashi carried him back to their dorm. They would not be leaving him alone tonight.
Shouta slumped on the couch while Hizashi got Izuku tucked in bed. He quietly went through the kid’s backpack and found a large envelope. He opened it and found five letters. One of them was addressed to him and Hizashi. His breath caught and his hands trembled. God, his kid had written a suicide note to them.
“Is that..?”
Shouta looked up to see his husband standing in the doorway. Hizashi’s voice trembled as he asked the question. Shouta couldn’t do anything but nod jerkily.
“God…”
Hizashi crumpled onto the couch and curled up against his side. Shouta’s hands quivered as he opened the letter. He heard Hizashi’s sharp intake of breath.
Dear Aizawa-sensei and Yamada-sensei,
I’m not really good with words. I wasn’t going to write this letter at first, but then I realized that it’d hurt more if I didn’t so here goes.
You two were the best teachers I’ve ever had. I’ve never had teachers who cared about me, or at least were willing to at least pretend to. I really enjoyed our talks in the morning, Yamada-sensei, and I’m so glad you were my homeroom teacher, Aizawa-sensei.
I know everyone thinks that All Might is my favorite hero, and maybe he was once, but truth is you both are. I’ve looked up to you two since I was a kid. This is supposed to be a secret,(though I guess it doesn’t matter much now that I’m a dead) but I was born quirkless. Technically I still am. I still have the double toe joint and everything.
My quirk’s real name is One for All. It was passed down to me by All Might. But that’s besides the point. The point is, everyone my entire life has told me that I’ll never amount to anything. That I’ll never become a hero. The Quirkless can’t do anything but kill themselves, after all.
But you two stood up for us. Present Mic publicly defended the quirkless and Eraserhead was one of the few heroes to actually take cases involving the Quirkless. You gave me hope. Hope that one day I could become a hero too, and prove everyone wrong. I’m eternally grateful for that, even if everyone else was right.
There is so much I want to say to you, thank you for, but there’s not enough time or words.
So, I just want you to know, it wasn’t your fault. You’ve done more than I could ever ask for and you gave me happiness in my last moments.
Thank you for everything,
Izuku.
The letter fell out of Shouta’s hand as his body was wracked with sobs. He was overwhelmed with his emotions. He was so, so furious with whoever hurt his kid, but at the same time he was heartbroken for the boy. How could someone break him this badly. Hizashi stood.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Shouta could do nothing but watch as his husband made a beeline for the bathroom.
Hizashi leaned over the sink, taking big gulps of air.
He couldn’t handle this. Midoriya had almost- his kid had almost killed himself. He’d almost been to late. Hizashi didn’t know what he’d do with himself if Shouta hadn’t caught the boy.
And God, that letter. He hadn’t said it outright, but Izuku basically implied he’d been suicide baited. And for years. Not to mention the pressure he must be under to hide his quirk. This whole thing was messed up.
It reminded Hizashi of his childhood. He’d been abused for his quirk. They’d muzzled him all the way up until his UA years. He still went to therapy for it! He knew better than anyone what the kid had went through. How had he missed the signs?
He heard a loud crash coming from inside the bedroom and practically bolted out of the bathroom. They just coaxed their kid off the roof. Please don’t let them find him on the floor, dead.
Hizashi burst into the room. Izuku was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at a broken vase. Hizashi had always hated the vase. He thought it was ugly. He would’ve been glad if it wasn’t for the blood mixed in with the broken shards. Izuku’s blood.
Hizashi fell to his knees beside the boy, careful of the glass shards. The boy’s hands were bloodied but at least it didn’t seem like it was from a bout of self harm.
“Hey, Izuku? Can you look at me, sweetheart? I’m not mad.”
Slowly, Izuku turned to look at him. Tears welled up in the boys eyes and he started mumbling apologies. It broke Hizashi’s heart.
“Hey, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s get you cleaned up, kay?”
Izuku nodded shakily and let Hizashi help him to stand. Hizashi shared a look with his husband before leading Izuku to the bathroom. Shouta would clean up this mess.
Hizashi sat Izuku on the bathroom sink while he rummaged around for a first aid kit. He found it after a few minutes of searching and quickly turned back to the boy.
Hizashi hummed a song under his breath while he bandaged up Izuku’s hand. He was only a little startled when the green haired boy started humming along. He grinned at him.
“Do you know this song?”
He asked as he finished up. Izuku nods looking down at his hand and wiggling his fingers.
“You used to play it on your station a lot when I was a kid.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Hizashi had to turn away to stop himself from squealing. His kid listened to his station? Well, then again he did say Hizashi was one of his favorite heroes. Hizashi was about to pull away and suggest they go back to the bedroom, when he felt a hand on his wrist. He stiffened and looked back at the kid.
Hizashi’s sleeve was pulled up, revealing the scarred skin on his wrist. The green haired boy was tracing the small lines with his finger. He looked up and made eye contact with Hizashi, a questioning look in his eye. Hizashi smiled reassuringly.
“I used to, yeah. It started when I was probably around your age.”
Izuku was silent for a moment. He let go and looked down at his own wrist. He slowly pulled his sleeve down, revealing matching scars. Hizashi’s breath caught and his heart clenched.
Oh, kid…
“…Does it ever get better?” The boy whispered. Hizashi swept him up into a hug.
“Yeah, it does, because you haven’t seen so many people who care about you and would give the world for you. I know I would. Shouta would.”
Izuku’s breath hitched and he threw himself into Hizashi’s arms. Hizashi could feel the teen’s tears soaking his shirt. He didn’t care. All that mattered was that his kid was alive.
“We love you, kiddo. We want to help you. Please, let us help.”
Izuku just cried harder. Hizashi pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead and just held him through it all. The boy eventually exhausted himself out. Hizashi gently picked him up.
“Let’s get you back to bed, okay?”
Shouta was waiting for them in the other room. The mess was completely gone now. The tired man looked at Hizashi questioningly. He shot him a reassuring smile and tucked Izuku back into bed. He went to leave but he felt a soft tug on his sleeve.
“Stay? Please? Both of you.” The green haired boy whispered.
Hizashi shared a look with his husband before both men climbed into the bed. They curled around the boy keeping him in between them.
Hizashi finally felt like he could breathe again. Being able to feel the kid’s heartbeat, and reassure himself that his kid was alive and in his arms, felt freeing. He made eye contact with Shouta over the kid’s head.
There was no denying it, Izuku was their kid now.
And they both certainly weren’t complaining.