Chapter Text
Things don’t change immediately for Izuku, after the exam. There’s plenty of congratulations over his passing-- his mom gives him the longest, teariest hug possible and Katsuki clings to him for the rest of the day-- and they even invite Yagi over for dinner (Katsudon, Izuku’s favorite). The hesitant way he agrees makes Izuku think he might be blowing off work to celebrate, which touches him in a way he doesn’t really know how to comprehend.
But the point is that despite everything, it doesn’t really feel like things are different . The sun doesn’t shine any brighter and the world doesn’t turn any faster-- things just, exist, as they always have. It’s almost confusing, with how changed he feels , to see that the world is still just… normal. There’s a period of adjustment, of coming down from the elation of his achievement, where he just has to get used to the reality of waiting for change. It isn’t bad, just… quieter.
It’s another quiet and unremarkable day just a couple weeks after the exam, and Yagi had come over for dinner. He and Izuku and Katsuki are still training, just not as intensely, and they’ve settled into an easy sort of routine. It’s after dinner now, both of them having tea in the living room while Izuku ribs Yagi for his embarrassing work stories. The man apparently misplaces paperwork often enough that he’s been scolded multiple times, and it’s nice to know that even the number one hero can be hopeless at something so mundane.
They’ve been quiet for a while, now, just sipping at their tea, and Izuku hums at a thought.
“Does it ever…” Izuku starts, before letting his voice peter off as he searches for the words. Yagi nods encouragingly for him to continue, and he takes a breath.
“Does it ever feel like, with everything you have and everything you have to do, that it’s too much and not enough, all at once?” He says quietly, setting his tea down on the table so he can stare down at his hands. If he lets it, he can see green dancing across his skin.
“That even with all of your resources and abilities and everything you’ve already accomplished behind you, that it’s not going to be enough? That there’s- that there’s just too much going on, too much to do, and an end seems too far away to reach?” Izuku clenches both his hands into fists, closing his eyes and sucking in another deep breath.
“That you might not be good enough to reach it?”
When he lets himself think about it, and he often lets himself think about it, it feels like there’s a pit in his chest that holds nothing but despair. That there’s a part of him that always thinks “It’s not going to be enough, I’m not going to be enough,” and the only thing that shuts those thoughts out is not thinking about them. But that doesn’t feel like it will work now that he has so much responsibility to the future, so many people he’s one day going to protect. It feels like something he needs to confront, but he’s terrified of doing that, because what if those thoughts are right?
When Izuku opens his eyes and looks over, Yagi is staring at him with the kindest expression such a gaunt face can muster. There’s a sadness and an understanding there, too, and Izuku feels something in him tighten painfully.
“Midoriya, that is…” Yagi pauses and sighs, searching for his own words.
“There are often questions that heroes ask themselves every day, my boy, and that is one of them.” There’s something infinitely tired in his eyes as he says it, some weight he must bear.
“Whenever one chooses to do the right thing, to save someone from peril or death or fear, there is always going to be something else you could have done. Maybe someone else you could have helped, or some decision that could have been made. Heroes might deal with situations that spell certain doom, but much more frightening, I often find, are the uncertain ones.” Yagi pauses for a moment and closes his eyes, and Izuku feels as though the hole in his chest is stealing the air from his lungs.
“Wondering whether or not we could have done more after the fact is a path only to ruin, Midoriya. It will eat away at you like nothing else can. You have to remember that heroes are just people, no matter how much power they may wield, and no one person can do everything.” Yagi turns to him, looking into Izuku’s eyes, and he feels more frozen than if the weight of the ocean was on his back.
“I mourn every person I couldn’t save, of course I do. I’ve seen senseless destruction that destroys countless innocent lives, and I mourn every single one. And I tell you this not to turn you off your path, but to remind you that you can’t save everyone. And the only thing you can do, the only thing that could bring any justice to the people you couldn’t save, is to try anyway.”
There’s a long moment after Yagi finishes speaking where the air stands still and Izuku stays frozen, paralyzed by the dread of confronting this ugly thought inside of him, before his heart stutters back to beating and he sucks in another trembling breath.
“More than anything, I want to be good enough to try.” He whispers, hands clenched into painfully tight fists in his lap as he feels the first fat drops of tears rolling down his cheeks. Yagi looks at him with something soft in his expression, comfort maybe, and makes his way closer to Izuku to put a gentle hand over the fists in his lap.
“You are good enough, Midoriya. I see you try so very hard, every day, to get better, and I have so much faith in you. You are already good enough.” Trembling with the sobs now wracking his body, Izuku curls into Yagi’s side as the man wraps a slender arm around him and lets himself cry.
That despair may never go away, but he won’t let it control him. And here, for just a moment, he can fall apart without that darkness swallowing him whole. The fear and uncertainty can crush him, but he won’t break, not completely. Despite everything, he’s going to be good enough, he’s going to try , and that’s enough.
~
It’s Spring, now, and it’s going to be his first day at UA. The last few months had been calmer, after his talk with Yagi. He felt more at ease with those fears than he had in a while. It feels like something changed in their relationship, too, that they understand just that much more about each other. It’s nice.
Uraraka (Ochako now, she insists) had come over a few times, and she and Katsuki got along surprisingly well. They had a lot of shared interests and they both had a competitive streak a mile wide, so they bonded over destroying each other in various games. Katsuki seemed like he really respected her and how she could stand up for herself; Izuku was just happy Katsuki finally had someone else he could talk to. Not that he doesn’t like spending so much time around him, but it’s good for him to open up a little more around other people. He and Ochako can talk about a lot of different things that Izuku just might not be interested in, and that’s good!
Also, they’re both really cute when they get heated over a game or an argument. Katsuki can’t bully Ochako into backing down because she isn’t scared of him at all, which makes for quite the show.
One other thing he thinks back on fondly was the day they all stayed up together and finished designing their hero costumes. Ochako apparently wasn’t even going to submit a design and, bringing up the possible dangers of giving a team of high school students free reign over a female hero’s costume design, they talked her out that pretty quickly. The designs they settled on by the end had all been amazing, and he’s excited to finally see them in action in class soon. Speaking of which, he’s kind of running late.
Izuku had woken up later than usual, when Katsuki stormed into his room and yelled at him. He only had enough time to change, eat a quick breakfast, and give his mom one last hug before they had to leave. Katsuki suggests fusing, and Izuku couldn’t be happier after all the stress of the morning, so it’s Kizuku that runs to the station and finds himself at the gates of UA once again.
For a moment he briefly considers staying fused, hesitant to be alone, but eventually he sighs and unfuses anyway. They’re really cutting it close here, but at least that means there aren’t any people around to gawk as they split apart and Katsuki links their hands again, pulling him through the entrance.
The halls are enormous and winding, and Izuku is having trouble keeping up with where they’re going, but Katsuki seems confident leading the way. He always has been much better with directions than Izuku.
Soon enough, they’ve stopped in front of an enormous door plainly labeled “1-A,” and while Izuku takes a moment to stare at it in a mix of awe and trepidation, Katsuki just shoves it open and saunters inside. Huffing at his impatience, Izuku scrambles after him, coming up to Katsuki’s side to find every eye in the classroom turned on them. Izuku gives a tiny wave, when something bowls into him from behind and he’s wrapped up in a hug.
“Izuku!! Oh, I’m seriously so glad you’re here! Aren’t you excited?” Ochako is as bright and bubbly as ever, and Izuku laughs as he pats one of the arms wrapped around his chest. To his left, Katsuki huffs and crosses his arms, but Izuku just rolls his eyes. Izuku will never understand that reaction. He knows Katsuki likes her just fine and they’re good friends now, but sometimes he gets upset with her for no reason and he just doesn’t get it. It’s not like he’ll find out anytime soon though, so he turns his head to reply to Ochako.
“I’m glad you’re here too! And of course I am, this is my dream.” Izuku says with a laugh, and she smiles and pulls away from the hug. It looks like she’s about to say something else when they’re interrupted by someone quietly clearing their voice. It’s the blue haired kid from the exam, and as Izuku turns to him his posture goes ramrod straight before he bows at a frankly impossible right angle.
“I would just like to apologize for my behavior at the exam! I completely missed the true point and misjudged you in the process! I hope we can come to understand each other better as students of UA.” He’s still bowing, and Izuku feels supremely awkward, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to be rude.
“Ah, no no, it’s ok! You were right that I was being disruptive during that presentation, you don’t have to worry about any hard feelings.” The boy finally straightens back up, and Izuku fights back a sigh of relief as he holds out his hand. “Izuku Midoriya!” The boy takes his hand and shakes it firmly and maybe a bit too fast.
“Tenya Iida! I am from Somei Academy, though I don’t know if my background will help me much in a class with such varied and talented students.” Izuku feels himself flush, and he’s about to stutter out a nonsense reply when he realizes there’s something familiar about that name.
“Oh! Are you Ingenium’s brother?” Iida looks genuinely surprised at the recognition, nodding slowly.
“Yes, actually, how did you-” A voice from the open door cuts Iida off.
“If you’re here to socialize, get out.” The speaker is lying on the floor in a zipped up yellow sleeping bag, the only part of them showing being a very exhausted looking face. The front unzips enough for a hand to slip out with a jelly pack, which the person sucks down, before they finally sigh, unzip the bag, and stand up.
“This is the hero course. It took you all eight seconds to quiet down, but time is precious in this line of work. You lot need to be aware of that, and to be more rational going forward.” The man who must be their homeroom teacher stalks into the room, dropping the sleeping bag carelessly behind his desk. Everyone seems frozen, not even finding their seats, but the man doesn’t seem to care.
“As you probably should have realized by now, I’m your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Pleased to meet you. Now,” and Aizawa reaches down into the sleeping bag and pulls out a duffle bag, which he tosses onto the nearest student’s desk.
“Change into your gym uniforms, we’re going outside.”
~
“Mr. Aizawa, what about the entrance ceremony?” Ochako asks, the confusion in her voice shared by the rest of the class. They’ve stopped right next to the track in the field outside, and Izuku tugs self-consciously on his gym uniform. The top is zipped down enough to expose his gem, and he flushes whenever anyone looks at it oddly. Thankfully, Katsuki is a grounding presence at his side.
“Oh, we’re not doing that. Or the guidance sessions.” Murmurs of surprise and still more confusion rippled through the crowd, and Aizawa continues without acknowledging them.
“UA is known for its “freestyle” educational system, which applies to teachers as well. We can teach our classes in whatever way we see fit, and I’m here to prepare you to become heroes. A determination of your current skills and potential is necessary for me to teach you.”
Aizawa pulls a softball sized ball out of one of the folds of his scarf (does he keep things in there??) and tosses it to Katsuki, who catches it easily.
“Bakugou, how far could you throw in middle school?”
“Sixty-seven meters.”
“Great. Now, that was, of course, without your quirk. I don’t care at all about that number-- I want to see what you can do without holding back.” Aizawa gestures vaguely towards the pitch, and Katsuki shrugs before jogging over. He swings his arms a few times to loosen his shoulders, tests the weight of the ball, before shooting a grin back at Izuku.
“Watch and learn, nerd!” Izuku can’t help the reflexive smile that comes to his face at Katsuki’s stupid teasing, and he sticks his tongue out in response. Katsuki smirks, before tossing the ball into his right hand, reeling back and shooting it off with an enormous explosion. There’s a collective gasp as the class watches the ball sail into the air and out of view, and Katsuki saunters back over, smug grin plastered over his face.
“705.2 meters. Not bad.” Katsuki preens even more at the number, and Izuku just elbows him in the side. Aizawa narrows his eyes at the antics before moving on.
“The most important things to know when you begin this kind of training are your limits. Before I can teach you effectively, I need to know where you’re at now, and when I do, I can push you to move past that.” Aizawa pull out another softball and gestures at the class.
“We’re going to be performing the kind of gym assessments you might have done in middle school, but here there are no limits. Use your quirks, cartwheel down the track, I don’t care. I just want you to try and achieve the highest results possible by any means available to you.” Noise sweeps through the students once again, this time louder and much more excited.
“This is awesome! We can use our quirks for real?!” An energetic kid with bright blonde hair says, pumping his fist enthusiastically in the air. “Man, the hero course is awesome!” Off to the side, Aizawa narrows his eyes, and Izuku feels like the temperature of their surroundings has dropped.
“Awesome, you say?” Aizawa says, stalking forward, and the entire class collectively shrinks back.
“You want to become heroes after only three years here, and you expect fun and games?” No one moves or replies, and Aizawa shakes his head.
“Right, then, here’s some incentive.” He smiles, but the expression is more threatening than joyful, and Izuku feels his heart sink as fear climbs up his throat.
“The student with the lowest score out of all events will be deemed to have no potential and be expelled.”
Expelled? Izuku feels his throat close up and his breath catch, and he wonders for the first time if he was wrong about the entrance exam being his biggest obstacle.
~
“Expelled? Mr. Aizawa, you can’t be serious! It’s only the first day, and that seems completely unfair!” Ochako says, voice almost pleading. Aizawa turns to her, no longer projecting that menacing aura. Instead, he just looks tired.
“There isn’t very much in the world that’s fair, Miss Uraraka.” He looks around at the whole class as he continues.
“Natural disasters, rampaging villains, car crashes and accidents… the world doesn’t operate with an understanding of fairness. Death and disaster is always just around the corner, not waiting for anything, but being brought upon by reckless chance and angry people.” He sighs, pushing the hair out of his eyes and looking off into the distance for a moment, before turning back to the class.
“Heroes are the ones that correct for that unfairness. We work to bring justice to an unjust world and are fought at every turn. Unfairness, injustice, they seem as inevitable as fate-- but don’t you decide your own fate? Isn’t that what heroes do?” Everyone just shuffles a bit, still not able to respond with any confidence to that kind of question, and Aizawa sighs again.
“Don’t tell me that you’ll give up at the first hint of opposition. You all want to be heroes, right? Then use your strength to overcome it all. Show me what you think of fate.” Despite the nerves, the words strike something in his fellow classmates, and he can practically feel the determination growing in the air. Ochako in particular looks back at Aizawa with steel in her eyes, a refusal to be anything less than her best self, and he knows she’ll be ok.
For himself, though, Izuku isn’t so sure.
~
The first event is the fifty-meter dash, and Izuku tries to feel at least a little confident about it. He can boost his speed with One For All fairly easily, he’s been practicing it for long enough. It’s just… so many of the other students have such incredible quirks that they’re using in such new and interesting ways, while Izuku still barely knows how to control either halves of his powers. He feels like a child among people so used to their quirks that they can use them as easy as breathing, and it’s making him anxious.
Sure, he can use One For All, but not for very long, and if he tires too early then he might as well be forfeiting the rest of the test, he’s not even going to make top ten, what if he comes in LAST--
A hand on his shoulder jolts Izuku out of his spiral. Katsuki is at his side, his usual angry-annoyed expression underlaid with worry. “Izu, hey. Calm the hell down, alright? You’re gonna make yourself sick.” Katsuki’s voice is low and gentle, and his expression softens even further at Izuku only managing a shaky breath in response.
“You’re gonna be fine, I’ve seen you do this so I know you can, yeah? We both crushed the exam, we shouldn’t have a problem beating some extras at a gym quiz.” The hand on his shoulder falls down his back so Katsuki can snake an arm around his waist and pull him into a hug, and Izuku would be lying if he said he didn’t need it. When his breathing evens out a bit and he can finally talk again, Izuku laughs quietly.
“Don’t call our classmates extras, Kacchan.”
“I can do whatever the hell I want dork!”
“Sure, Kacchan, that’s--”
“If you two are done, you’re up next.” Aizawa interrupts their bickering, and Izuku feels his cheeks flush with embarrassment. Katsuki just huffs and lets go of him, only to grab his hand and pull him over to the starting track. Izuku smiles weakly, happy for the physical support when he’s so scattered, and barely pays any mind to the odd look Aizawa gives them. He must just be annoyed that they weren’t ready.
At the starting line Izuku rolls his shoulders and does a few stretches before letting One For All fill his body. There’s still that tightness in his chest, but he does his best to smooth that down and focus, getting into starting place. At the same time, Katsuki stretches a bit, before toeing his shoes off and getting into place as well.
Now that they’re ready, Aizawa counts down quickly and they start. Knowing what Katsuki was planning-- he’d seen him blast himself forward in training already, and adding his feet to that will only make him even faster-- Izuku decides to put as much energy as he can into a jump propelling himself forward. Which, well, with the way he sails over the finish line and lands face first in the grass, was a bit of an overestimation. His time was good though, managing to beat Katsuki’s by a whole second.
Picking himself up out of the dirt with a groan, a couple of the other students seem to be asking if he’s ok, but it’s Katsuki that comes and helps him up despite how hard he’s laughing.
“Ugh, shut up Kacchan, I don’t know how to estimate the amount very well yet!!” Izuku whines, trying to get the world to stop spinning, while Katsuki just keeps laughing at him between saying something along the lines of “fucking nerd launches himself into the dirt.” Eventually he calms down enough to stop and give Izuku a pat on the back.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t pout about it, it was funny. Now let me help you get all that shit off your face.”
“There’s something on my face?”
“You’re covered in grass, idiot!”
“Oh.”
“Just sit still for a second.” Izuku does, closing his eyes and letting Katsuki brush his hands over his face. Now that he’s looking, he can feel little blades of grass on his cheeks and flecks of dirt digging into his skin. He was so focused on how dizzy the landing made him that he didn’t even notice, and worry flashes through his mind. That kind of inattention is really bad!
“I can hear you worrying in there Izu, so shut up.” Katsuki says roughly, softly brushing the last few bits of dirt off of his face. Izuku opens his eyes and gives his Katsuki his best sheepish smile, and he just huffs in response.
“You’re fucking hopeless sometimes, you know?” Katsuki sounds annoyed, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face and Izuku knows he’s just teasing. There’s the sound of someone clearing their throat to the side, and both of them turn towards the noise, though Katsuki looks distinctly more annoyed about the interruption than is probably appropriate. It’s one of the other students, the kid with the spiky red hair and shark teeth. At Katuski’s glare he throws his hands up apologetically and smiles brightly at them.
“Sorry if I was interruptin’ something, I just wanted to tell you how awesome your quirks were! I’m pretty sure you have two of the fastest times in the class, and that’s just,” the kid clenches his fist and closes his eyes, seemingly overcome with emotion, “so manly!” He brightens back up immediately, and holds out a hand. “I’m Eijirou Kirishima by the way!”
Izuku blinks. “Oh, you were second in the exam! That’s incredible, I can’t wait to see you in action in class!” Kirishima looks taken aback for a moment, seemingly just as unused to praise as Ochako had been, and he looks briefly to Katsuki as if to ask “is that normal?” Katsuki rolls his eyes and nods back, and Kirishima seems to finally collect himself.
“Ah, thank you man! It’s just kind of surprising that you would say that, with everything everybody’s heard you do. And seen, now.” Izuku shakes his head, of course he deserves recognition for doing so well, before realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself in return. Embarrassed, he quickly tries to step forward and actually shake Kirishima’s hand, when the movement makes his head spin and sends him to his knees. Katsuki shouts in alarm and is immediately by his side, but Izuku just waves him off.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m fine. I think I just exhausted myself a little bit already.” Which is… troubling, considering how many more events they have to do. The thought makes the dread come climbing back up his throat, and he pulls in a few shaky breaths to try and calm himself down. Katsuki has an arm around him, squeezing gently for comfort, and eventually he feels his muscles relax, but the thoughts are still there, and he won’t stop being on edge for a while. Kirishima looks incredibly distressed, holding out his hands like he wants to help but doesn’t know what to do, and Izuku tries to reassure him.
“Ah, sorry for being so dramatic, Kirishima, my anxiety is just really bad sometimes. I’m Izuku Midoriya, by the way!” Katsuki helps him stand, and he feels a little more stable now. Even if he can still feel the sluggish pull of exhaustion, he won’t give in to it. He’s going to keep going, no matter what.
Just as it looks like Kirishima is about to say something else, Aizawa calls them together for the next test, and the conversation moves on.
~
The next few tests are terrible, to put it lightly. The anxiety he felt at tiring himself out so easily has taken root in his bones, and every use of his quirk is accompanied by self-doubt. It feels like he’s using up too much energy every time, and compounded by his fear that if he does too little he won’t get a good enough score, it produces terrible results. He gets admirable scores in the grip test and standing long jump, but at the complete cost of his stamina, enough that his side-stepping score is the worst in the class.
Now at the fifth event, throwing, Izuku is shaking on his feet, so exhausted he can barely stand. Katsuki has basically been holding him up for the last five minutes, and every muscle in his body protests his continued exertions. The continually more disappointed looks Aizawa keeps shooting him aren’t helping, and he feels like he’s about to burst into tears.
Ochako (and surprisingly, Kirishima) have been trying to be supportive, but he wonders if they’re disappointed too. Ochako got an incredible score on the throw, and Kirishima uses his quirk in really innovative ways. It makes him wonder if they should even have to put up with someone so susceptible to their emotions they can be incapacitated by them. The thought makes him want to curl up in a little ball and melt through the ground, and he clenches his fists tightly in hopes that the pain will bring a little sense to his thoughts. It doesn’t help very much, and by the time Izuku is called to the pitch and handed a ball he’s so anxious he feels like he’s going to throw up.
He gets into position, hefting the ball up and down a few times even as his arm trembles, and he pulls back to throw, ready to put the last dregs of his energy into it and hopefully not pass out. Everyone is watching him and they’re going to be so disappointed, he’s going to let people down, and he can’t- he can’t -
The ball leaves his hand and falls a piddly distance, but the more pressing issue is the fact that Izuku can’t feel even the barest lightning energy in his veins, and the terror is a vice grip on his insides now. His sheer drop into a panic attack is interrupted almost immediately by thin fabric bands wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him face to face with-- oh, shit, Aizawa is Erasherhead.
“Erasherhead?” Izuku blurts out, voice cracking under the tightness in his throat, and Aizawa looks momentarily surprised, before shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at Izuku.
“Midoriya. I thought I saw potential in you, after the entrance exam and your initial performance in these tests, but I can’t abide your lack of control. You exhaust yourself so easily-- do you expect people to always be able to step in and help you after you’ve incapacitated yourself?”
“I- I c-can’t- I’m n-not-”
There’s a sound to his right, probably Katsuki yelling something, but everything is muffled in comparison to the ringing in his ears. His entire body is trembling, not just from exhaustion but from the sheer, incapacitating terror he feels. Aizawa is right, of course he is. Even now, Izuku is proving his point-- but that thought just makes the panic worse, makes his head spin and his chest tighten and blackness crowd the edges of his vision.
He closes his eyes against it as he tries to focus, and he can feel tears streaming down his face as he finally starts crying. His reaction must be a shock to Aizawa, because the man finally lets go of him, and Izuku collapses onto the ground, gasping and crying and desperately sucking in too-fast gulps of air. There’s more yelling and the sound of a brief struggle before Katsuki is pulling his head into his lap and running soothing hands through his hair.
“Hey, Izu, it’s ok, you’re ok. I need you to breathe for me, ok? Slowly, slowly.” Katsuki says gently, but Izuku feels the panic mounting so fast he can barely think, and his ability to make conscious decisions has flown out the window. He clutches at Katsuki’s shirt, trying to pull him closer as he sobs and gasps, and he feels Katsuki bend protectively over him, grabbing his unoccupied hand and holding it tightly. He just wants it to stop hurting, he wants to breathe, he wants to think, he wants something to help.
His mind is a whirlwind of panic but it must know some things, instinctively. Izuku feels his trembling hand twist in Katsuki’s grip until their fingers are intertwined, feels his gem glow blindingly bright, and suddenly everything’s not so bad. The part of him that’s Izuku is still having a panic attack, but, surrounded by the blanket of calm Katsuki is projecting, it’s much easier to come down from. Slowly, still feeling the exhaustion of both of his components, Kizuku pushes himself into a sitting position and opens his eyes.
Everyone is staring. Well, that’s not much of a surprise, but it does send a shot of anxiety through him that he has to work to smooth out.
“Hi, everyone.” He gives a tiny wave, smiling softly. “I’m Kizuku. Just- giving them a moment to calm down.”
The class continues staring, and it’s Aizawa that manages to react first. His expression is the most openly confused Kizuku thinks it’s ever been.
“Midoriya and- and… Bakugou. Could you explain what is happening?” Instead of responding immediately, Kizuku closes his eyes and leans back on his hands, taking a deep breath. Izuku is almost calm, but that still means it’s mostly Katsuki at the wheel, and he doesn’t want to say anything rash. When he finally feels a little more himself, nice and centered and whole, he opens his eyes and pushes himself up to his feet.
“Well, I’m a fusion, sir.” He says brightly.
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“I think it explains the situation pretty well, actually.” He says with a hum, when an idea pops into his head and he runs to grab the ball he was about to use for the test.
“And now that Izuku isn’t having a panic attack, we’re going to finish the test.”
“That’s not-”
Before Aizawa can finish, Kizuku has summoned his open-palm gloves and is reeling back for the pitch. As he swings forward, a massive explosion and streaks of green lightning send the ball flying, and he shakes his hand out a bit as he watches it fly. Turning back to Aizawa, he flashes a grin as the man looks down at his tablet.
“... 907.5 meters.”
“Like I said, Izuku isn’t out of the fight yet, sir.”
Aizawa is silent for a long moment before he lets out an incredibly tired sounding sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t know what that was, but I’ll admit that it was surprising, and it showed an aspect of your powers that you have much greater control of.” He sighs again, hand falling off his face as he gives Kizuku a deadpan look. “You’re still going to have to take the test separately.”
Kizuku laughs, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Yeah, I figured.”
~
Thankfully, things turn out… mostly fine. Izuku is still exhausted when they unfuse, but he’s no longer having a panic attack, which is a plus. Really, he just needed to realize that he doesn’t need to use One For All exclusively to pass these tests-- the whole point is to be creative with how he uses his quirk! With a slightly more even head, Izuku manages a respectable score on the ball throw by smacking it with his warhammer, and he scrapes through the rest of the tests much the same.
Throughout the rest of the day there’s a predictable chatter about Kizuku and their fusion, but it’s much less hostile than Izuku is used to. Everyone just seems excited rather than disgusted, asking him questions and seeming genuinely interested in his response. It’s kind of overwhelming, but also motivating with how positive it is. They don’t have much time to talk between tests, but he thinks Ochako (and maybe Kirishima, if he still wants to be friends with him after all that) are going to have a lot of questions for them after class. He thinks he’s ok with that.
The one other thing he does notice is one of their classmates who gets pretty average scores. Izuku had noticed him throughout the tests, mostly because he had fluffy purple hair that Izuku can’t help but stare at for how pretty it is, but now that he thinks about it the kid is kind of weird altogether-- he gets respectable scores but never shows a visible quirk that would make him stand out. He doesn’t seem to mind much, though, so Izuku tries not to worry for him (sometimes his overactive empathy is a real pain). Mostly, he just looks tired. Izuku hopes he does well enough to stay off the bottom of the scoreboard. He doesn’t want any of his classmates to be expelled, but whatever happens he’ll try to be kind.
Finally, it’s the end of the day, and everyone is standing nervously in front of Aizawa as he reads over their scores on his tablet. After a long moment, where the tension ratchets up and Izuku has to lean hard into Katsuki’s side for support, Aizawa finally hums and hits a button, projecting the scores in front of him for the class to see. Izuku feels himself practically melt as the tension drains out of him-- he’s not in last place.
“Oh, that was a logical ruse, by the way. No one is getting expelled, I just wanted you to push your limits.”
“WHAT??!” The entire class erupts into chaos, but Izuku is too relieved to mind. He just leans into Katsuki’s side, closes his eyes, and promptly falls asleep.
~
Izuku manages to stay asleep for an embarrassingly long period of time considering how much he’s carried and jostled around. When he wakes up in the infirmary Katsuki smacks him on the back of the head and tells him he’s been out for an hour and a half.
“And you waited the whole time?” Izuku says blearily, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“ ‘Course I did idiot, who else was gonna?” Katsuki’s voice is warm, taking on that soft quality it usually does when they’re alone and Katsuki can’t seem to figure out if he’s mad about something or not. Suddenly, his phone buzzes, and Katsuki looks down at it before sending off a reply with a roll of his eyes.
“Round-face has been texting me constantly about you since she left to catch her train. She’s probably gonna call now that you’re up-” As if on cue Katsuki is interrupted by Izuku’s ringtone, the All Might animated series theme song (the best All Might show don’t @ him), and Izuku fumbles to pick it up and answer.
“Hello?”
“IZUKU!” He winces at the noise and pulls the phone away from his ear for a moment while Katsuki snickers. Ochako quickly returns to a more normal volume.
“Sorry, but I was just so worried! You were out cold and no one could wake you up, it was terrible! I can’t believe you pushed yourself that far!!” Her voice finally betrays how mad she is at him for scaring her, and Izuku laughs weakly.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I was actually passing out.” Ochako just huffs into the receiver and Izuku laughs again. Just then, there’s a knock at the door, and it opens just enough for Aizawa’s voice to filter through.
“May I come in?” Izuku fumbles a bit with his phone as he tries to respond.
“O-oh, yeah, sure! Um, Ochako, I’ll talk to you more later, I think I have to talk to Mr. Aizawa.”
“Ok!” She chirps, and he can almost here her nodding. “Just don’t forget! Also, Kirishima told me to say hi, I’ll give you his number later.” Izuku smiles, and they say a quick goodbye before he ends the call, setting his phone on the bed so he can fold his hands in his lap and give Aizawa his full attention as the man finally enters.
“I-I’m, ah, I’m really sorry about what happened today, Mr. Aizawa! I know you were, er… worried, about me getting exhausted too easily, and I didn’t mean to let it get that bad.” Izuku says softly, fiddling with the corner of his gym uniform. Rather than responding immediately Aizawa just sighs and shakes his head.
“No, you did well all things considered. You have potential and I’m here to help you learn how to overcome those limits, I can’t fault you for having them in the first place. What I’m more concerned about is this.” Aizawa gestures vaguely with the sheets of paper he had walked in with.
“Your quirk isn’t documented at all, and that needs to be fixed.” Izuku furrows his brow, trying to think back on what it’s even registered as…
“Oh! I guess just ‘Gem’ isn’t enough?” Aizawa gives him a deadpan stare.
“No, Midoriya, it is not.” Pulling a few sheets of paper out of the stack, Aizawa hands them to him, waiting patiently while he fumbles to accept them.
“These are just some questions about your quirk that you and your mother can fill out for the school. Ideally I would have you tested by a quirk counselor, but we can’t schedule that for another couple of weeks and I’d like to have as much information as soon as possible to do my job.” Izuku nods, and Aizawa seems to relax just slightly, if it could even be called that.
“Good, thank you. Now go home.”
~
Despite his “nap,” Izuku is even more exhausted by the time they get home. Katsuki was practically carrying him half the time, grumbling all the while, and they couldn’t fuse because Izuku was too worried about the both of them passing out. It’s a relief when he can finally collapse on the living room couch and let his body settle.
He really did overdo it today, but at least he knows what his limits really are. And he hasn’t broken any bones, yet. Still grumbling, Katsuki flops down on the couch next to him, running a hand through Izuku’s hair while he hums.
“Ok, so, just to make sure this gets through your thick skull-- don’t fucking scare me like that again, Izu!” Katsuki growls out, and Izuku can’t help but laugh, which just makes him even more angry.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just- sometimes it’s funny, that it seems like you care more about my health than I do. You’re just like Mom.”
Katsuki snorts. “Obviously somebody fucking has to, since you’re so damn lousy at managing it. I can’t believe you were that prepared to pass out! You have the survival skills of a fucking cabbage.” Most of the anger has faded from Katsuki’s voice now that he’s calm enough to be teasing, so Izuku just closes his eyes and lets himself think about everything that’s happened so far.
He met his classmates, made new friends and passed a test, all on the first day. UA is going to be hard, and probably full of even more surprises, but he’s ready for them now. He wants to be able to face these challenges and get stronger, to move forward and learn everything he can about heroics. Despite all the struggles he seems to face, he wants to get better.
“Kacchan?”
“Yeah?”
“I think we had a pretty good first day overall, yeah?” He smiles up at Katsuki, who just snorts and smiles right back.
“Yeah, Izu. I guess we did.”