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Living in the dorms with everyone meant several things.
It meant you got uncomfortably acquainted with everyone's eating and bathroom habits, and got an unfortunate insight to their behavior when left alone for to long.
It also meant that people would be clashing wings. Or, specifically, their thoughts on wings.
Ashido’s family, as it turns out, was extremely open about it. On their first day moving in, Ashido had sprawled over the couch, wings covering every inch of it.
(They were bright bubble gum pink and made for power. He thought they suited her well.)
Meanwhile, people like Todoroki and Yaoyorozu never showed their wings. He asked, and Todoroki told him it was because his father had trained him to never show them in public, and he was still trying to break himself out of that fear. Yaoyorozu said that she never showed hers because her family was extremely conservative when it came to their wings.
Then there was the in-betweens. Iida would have his out, but keep them tucked against his back at all times. Asui didn’t seem to care one way or the other, sometimes having them covered, sometimes not.
(Her wings were webbed instead of feathered, green and pink and clearly made for speed in the water.)
It also gave him some insight on what people who actually cared about their wings did.
“What are you doing?” Yaoyorozu exclaimed, leaning over the couch. Ashido peered up at her from behind a bubble gum pink wing.
“Preening? What does it look like I’m doing?” she replied. Yaoyorozu frowned.
“Is that really something you should be doing in a such an… public area?” she asked, and Ashido shrugged.
“Does it matter? It’s just preening. I do it every week,” she said, and Yaoyorozu looked oddly confused.
“I preen mine every day. How can you stand to leave them so dirty for a week?” she asked, and now Izuku was feeling incredibly awkward.
‘ Every day, huh…’
“They don’t get that dirty Momo,” Ashido said, fluttering out her newly preened wing and inspecting it.
“Yeah, I only preen mine once a month!” Kaminari proclaimed proudly from his spot opposite of Ashido. Both girls turned to look at him, absolutely horrified.
The conversation fell apart from there, ending with the entire class getting involved. Izuku was dragged in, forced to make a chart of how often everyone preened their wings.
Once a day: Yoayorozu, Iida, Bakugou, Aoyama
Twice a week: Kirishima, Uraraka, Asui, Tokoyami, Jirou
Once a week: Ashido, Koda, Mineta, Ojiro, Sato, Hagakure
Twice a Month: Shoji, Sero, Todoroki
Once a Month: Kaminari
“Okay, so here’s everyone's,” Izuku said, hoping against hope no one would realize he hadn’t put himself on there. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.
“See! Almost everyone preens their wings at least once a week! It keeps them healthy!” Ashido argued with Kaminari. He smirked, lazily waving his hand.
“Well, yeah, but what’s the point? They get clean enough when I shower, and I don’t use them almost at all. Just seems like a waste of time,” Kaminari responded.
“Wing care is not a waste of time! It’s important! You have to take care of them!” Ahsido exclaimed, irritated. Her wings beat the air wildly around her, and Izuku shrunk back. He hadn’t preened his wings in years, the mere thought of touching them, of feeling burned feathers and scarred skin making him sick.
“All Might-sensei! Glad you’re here, we need your help!” Ashido said suddenly, turning to the door. He glanced over and saw Toshinori standing there, clearly confused. Aizawa stepped in behind him, and Izuku really wished he wasn’t across the room from the stairs.
“Aizawa-sensei too! We were having a discussion on wings, what do you think is the best amount to preen your wings? Kaminari seems to think it’s okay to leave them for a month,” Ashido said, several classmates nodding.
“Kaminari is an idiot,” Aizawa said. Everyone ignored the offended ‘hey’ from Kaminari, instead looking at their teacher. Izuku shrunk back into the shadows, wishing to be anywhere but here.
“Your wings are part of you body to. Neglecting to take care of them hurts you just like it would with any other limb. Besides, you never know when you might be forced to use them, and as heroes you can’t afford to take the risk of not being in top form at all times,” Aizawa explained, Toshinori stepping up beside him.
“He’s right. Every part of you needs to be in top form as a hero, because you never know when it will save someone’s life,” he said. “This means both mentally and physically. Taking care of your mental health is just as important as you physical.”
“See, I told you!” Ashido cowed, turning to Kaminari.
“Why isn’t Midoriya on here?” Aizawa questioned abruptly, gesturing to the list Izuku had made. He slid along the edge of the wall, hoping he could avoid the question by disappearing to his room.
“That’s a good question, Midori, why aren’t you up there?” Ashido questioned, suddenly turning to him. He froze, wondering if it would be suspicious to activate full cowl and punch through the wall to escape. Probably. It was tempting though.
“W-well, uh… I-I didn’t th-think it w-was i-important?” he said, cursing his stutter. Everyone was staring at him now, and he shrunk further against the wall. “A-anyways, I-I have s-some homework I-I n-need t-to get b-back t-to,” he said quickly, hurrying across the room. He ignored Ashido’s shout, taking the steps two at a time until he was safely back in his own room. Closing the door, he leaned against it with a sigh.
‘ Stupid wings,’ He thought to himself, feeling them brush against his back. The thought of preening them, or letting anyone else preen them, made him feel ill.
‘Stupid, useless, flightless Deku.’
“Izuku?” Toshinori’s voice came through the door, startling him from his thoughts. He had sunk to the floor, belatedly realizing he was crying.
“What?” he asked, wiping away his tears. His voice cracked, hard, and he wished he could just disappear.
“...Are you okay?” Toshinori asked, and he hiccuped, biting down on his sobs.
“No,” he replied, feeling like being truthful for once.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Toshinori asked, and he put his head in his hands.
“Not really,” he replied, shoving down his broken sobs.
“Okay. Do you want me to stay here?” He asked, and Izuku shuddered.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” he said, even though his head was screaming to tell him to stay, or to tell him to go. His brain felt at war against himself, fear fighting with love fighting with want fighting with trust in an inescapable tumble of emotions.
“Okay. I’ll be right here, then. Do you want Aizawa here too?” he asked, and Izuku forced down the need to scream.
“Don’t care,” he said, even though he did care, he did, he just didn't know how he cared, or why.
“Okay. Do you want me to be quiet or keep talking?” Toshinori said, and Izuku couldn’t stop his brain from running over itself.
‘Don’t leave stay show me you care but leave leave leave I don’t want to be hurt but stay because I love you I love you I want to trust but it hurts it hurts I can’t look at them can’t think of them stay leave stay leave stay-’
“Did I ever tell you about the time a I fought Acid Rain? He was a strange villain…” Toshinori started, and Izuku breathed, and he listened. He listened to his idol turned crush turned love talk about one stupid thing or another. He could feel his presence through the door, could feel a budding sense of safety. Aizawa began chiming in, telling his own stories at some point, and Izuku slouched against the door, letting their voices distract him.
He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, trading stories and keeping him company. He leaned his head back against the door, content in the silence that had fallen, hearing their breathing on the other side.
“Izuku?” Toshinori said quietly, and he hummed.
“You know we care about you, right? We want you to take care of yourself,” Aizawa said, and Izuku felt a pressing guilt in his chest.
“I know,” he said, somehow feeling safer with a wall between them. He was tired, emotionally drained.
“I just don’t know if I can,” he said, because it was late, it was dark, and the world felt like it didn’t exist in that moment.
“It’s okay to not be able to do it alone. People care about you Izuku, and would be willing to help. It doesn’t have to be us. It doesn’t even have to be someone we know. Just, please take care of yourself. Please,” Toshinori said, and his voice sounded so sad and so tired and Izuku felt like crying again.
“Okay,” he whispered, leaning his head down. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
It was silent after that, and he fell into a half awake state. He heard Aizawa whisper goodnight, heard him pick up Toshinori and walk down the hallway, back to their room. He stayed there, on the floor, leaning against his door.
Then, he picked himself up. He changed his clothes, and he left. He knew where Uraraka’s dorm was, knew how to get there. She had told him that he was welcome anytime. He knocked, she answered, sleepily rubbing her eyes. Her light was still on, and Asui was behind her, wings extended, covered in water. They must have been preening each others wings.
“Deku-kun? What is it?” she said, and he flinched at the nickname, wishing for a second he had picked something else, anything else, for his hero name.
“Can you help me preen my wings?” he asked, quiet, forcing the words out before he could regret them. It felt like a betrayal, going to Uraraka instead of his mates but…
His mind flashed to finals, when All Might broke his wing again. When he found out Aizawa had paired him with Bakugou. He had learned that pain begets more pain, and he was scared they would hurt him again. It was irrational, it was stupid. But, it was what it was.
“Of course Izuku, come in,” Uraraka said, and he flashed her a grateful smile.
It took at least three hours, careful hands and careful voices. By the end of it, Izuku felt more tense than he ever had in his life, but a small pile of broken feathers sat beside him, his wings felt like his own for the first time in a long time, and Ochako was giving him a bright smile, and he thought that maybe it was worth it.