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Too much.
Izuku was used to too much.
Being too much.
Feeling too much.
He felt like a pot that was constantly full, the tiniest drop sent him spilling.
Growing up he was excluded from everything, then when he came to UA people were so much more friendly.
It was almost overwhelming.
Teachers had concern for him, classmates wanted to be partners. It was strange.
Slowly but surely his anxiety got to him though.
They’ll leave. Hate him. Everybody does.
Izuku couldn’t be bothered to care though, he had enough overwhelming him.
Evidence A: he was about to have a meltdown in the middle of the classroom and it wasn’t even first period.
Usually he isolates himself to his room when he feels it. No escaping in the middle of homeroom though.
The green haired boy knew he wasn’t all there. He was unfocused, drawn into the clouds by the tingling sensation filling his body.
The sensation that something in his body was…off.
He rubbed his hands up and down his legs in a soothing manner, trying to prevent the meltdown. Internally, he knew it was useless, there was no stopping a meltdown.
Izuku needed to get out.
He stood on twitching legs, although to the outsiders he surely looked normal.
Abandoning his items on his desk he all but bolted out of the room, hearing Aizawa sensei call after him.
Not going far, he walked slowly in the hallway aimlessly. Shaking his hands by his sides as he walked, somewhere isolated.
A hand settles on his shoulder and he is quick to shake it off.
“Don’t touch me,” he spits out through gritted teeth.
Aizawa sensei rounds to stand in front of him, halting his walking. With hands raised placatingly in front of him he speaks, “Alright, no touching. Lets just go somewhere more private, yeah problem child?”
Izuku nods slowly as his teacher leads the way to one of the teachers private rooms.
He barely notices the plushness of the couch he falls down onto, wrapping his arms around his knees, pulling them to his chest.
The man speaks as Izuku rocks softly in place.
“Kid? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
An abrupt shake of the head from the kid.
Aizawa knows that he’s bottling whatever he’s feeling up, and he’s bound to explode at some point.
“You can tell me, I promise. Let it out.”
The man sits across from him, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together.
Izuku looked forward with glassy eyes, staring at Aizawa's shoes, tears brimming but refusing to fall.
His throat stung, closing in on itself. Breathes hitched, hands fisting around the fabric of his pants.
As his mouth opened to speak, his lips stuck together, pulling apart slowly.
“It hurts,” his voice is whiny and cracking with emotion before any tears have fallen.
“What does kid?” Warmth graces his teachers voice, a rare occurrence for a stoic man.
“EVERYTHING,” the boys voice breaks as he exclaims with desperation to be heard, to be understood. Tears wrack his body and he shakes with the force from releasing the truth.
He wraps his arms around himself, squeezing for comfort.
“All the time and I don’t know why. I want it to stop. Make it stop please.”
There is a plead in these words so strong it tugs on his teacher’s heart.
Izuku has burst at the seams and he is unravelling once again, this time with a witness.
He doesn’t know why he has been sentenced to this feeling of utter distraughtness. It follows him home every day and no matter how many joyful memories he creates, it comes crawling back. Climbing up his spine, digging its claws into his skin and pulling him crashing down to earth every time he deigns to fly.
“I am so...overwhelmed. All. The. Goddamn time.” He spits out, harshly enunciating what words he can manage, grasping at the thoughts swirling in his head.
Tears have run down his face, settling on his lips and dripping off his chin. They escape into his mouth every time he opens it to gulp in air, the salty taste barely grounding him.
Izuku is near vibrating with the onslaught of emotion.
He runs his fists up and down his legs harshly, a self soothing motion. A useless one.
“We can figure this out together,” Aizawa sensei reaches an arm out to rest it on his knee, but the gentle voice is no longer enough to contain Izuku’s meltdown.
He lashes out. As he knew he would.
Because Izuku’s emotions have always been too big for his body.
“NO!”
His arm flies, whacking the man. Standing and pacing a few steps away.
His arms are moving erratically around him as he walks in circles, mumbling and blubbering.
“No. No. No. Make it stop, I just want it to stop. I want it to go away. I wanna go awa-“
Watching his student choke on his own saliva has the man standing hesitantly.
Izuku is hiccupping and choking, working himself further into a frenzy while his teacher just stands there speechless.
Who knew such a small being could contain such ferocious anger and devastation.
“Okay. Okay,” the man mutters under his breath, thinking and dismissing a million ideas at once. His student obviously needs an outlet, for the whirlwind of emotions he has bottled inside.
“Tell me. Tell me everything Izuku,” the man begs.
The use of his first name snap the boy out of his spiral minutely.
He stutters as he speaks, pacing slowing “w-what?”
The corners of his eyes are still creased as tears pour down his face. Bloodshot eyes and a distraught face look at Aizawa.
“Yell it. Scream it if you have to. Whatever makes you feel better. What are you feeling? Physically, emotionally. What makes you mad? Where are you feeling all of this emotion? What hurts? What do you think about when you cant sleep at night? And don't lie, I know you are awake until early hours, those eyebags of yours make it ever so obvious,” the man huffs out, breathless from his ramble.
There is dead silence for a moment and the man thinks it hasn’t worked. Maybe Izuku doesn’t want to let it out.
But when emotions are bubbling over in his tiny body, out is the only way they can go.
“All I can feel is this terrible fucking stiff uniform!” he tugs at his messy tie to loosen it.
“I feel like I’m going to explode. I am constantly. On edge. Everything is just too much and I never realise until I’m breaking at the seams like this!” he yells, intensity building, gesturing at himself as he paced around the room.
“I’m mad that nobody ever fucking notices that I’m tired. SO FUCKING TIRED. I SNAP SO EASILY AND I FEEL LIKE LAVA IS BURNING THROUGH MY VEINS. I WANT TO CUT IT OUT SENSEI,” there is a gasp of air as he grabs at the roots of his hair and tugs.
“I LIE AWAKE THINKING OF HOW WEIRD AND STRANGE PEOPLE THINK I AM. IM A FREAK, A CRYBABY. I DONT FIT IN, ANYWHERE!!”
Izuku’s hands fly out of his hair as he points to a random direction.
“I DONT KNOW WHAT IM FEELING OR THINKING OR DOING, EVER. ITS JUST SO INTENSE IT BURNS. FEELS LIKE SOMETHING IS CRAWLING OUT OF MY SKIN. I CANT FEEL ANYTHING NORMALLY, ITS ALWAYS SO STRONG. I’M CONSTANTLY ONE STEP AWAY FROM BUBBLING OVER, AND THEN EVERYONE WILL SEE WHAT I AM.”
At that last yell the boy collapses to the floor, letting out a guttural scream. No words, just...pain.
Aizawa rushes over and wraps himself around the kid, skin to skin. Only clothing as a barrier. He holds Izuku as tight as he can, compressing him, being additional weight to ground him.
“What you are...is a child. Someone who needs comfort, and love. Wisdom and support. Someone to lean on. To go to when you are at your breaking point, no matter how often that is. Kid. Let me be that someone for you. Please.”
Izuku’s fists have unclenched and his body is lax as he is held. He still shakes and twitches from the half inhales and full body sobs. But he feels...warm.
Staring into space as he is held, his sobs slowly trail off and his energy drains.
Izuku is tired. So very tired.
There is comfortable silence as he is held ever so tight. Both of them are sweaty and sticky but neither have enough energy to care.
The man cannot fathom how the kid made it so far by himself.
Trusting no one. Holding everything inside.
But no more.
Aizawa will be the rock that Izuku requires. Someone for him to run to when the world is too loud.