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“At first I thought you were a constellation—
I made a map of your stars, and I had a revelation:
You’re as beautiful as endless.
You’re the universe I’m helpless in.”
--Sleeping at Last
He’d learned in physics that all things had a terminal velocity— that, once they reached that speed, it was physically impossible for them to fall faster. Izuku had fallen a lot in his life. Into the mud, when Kacchan had pushed him. Onto his face, beaten time and again by rivals and villains alike. Into his current life trajectory— meeting All Might, his hero and hope for so long, had been nothing but dumb luck and moxie.
And yet, he stood up again and mustered a smile, however shaky. Eventually, that smile became real.
Uraraka had once compared his light to the icy dust-trail of a shooting star. How the energy clung to him, following his movements through space, wandering but not directionless. He’d guessed it was fitting, and smiled even brighter upon further reflection. That light carried all of his wishes. And the wishes of those who came before him, too.
But all it took was a lapse in his judgement. A moment of doubt. Thinking too hard and too fast about how heavy the light actually was. One misplaced kick. One sickening crack. One of them had crash-landed back to earth, sure. He would’ve given anything for it to have been him.
Izuku had not been out to face her. He couldn’t.
He stared sadly at the wall, inches away from his nose as he buried himself under the comforter—which would provide no comfort tonight, it seemed. She always sung his praises, and he really didn’t know why, especially after days like this. When his mind was running so fast, the supreme concentration it took to wield his Quirk was impossible.
His only thought was that he wanted to be stronger— stronger for All Might, for his mom, for Iida and Todoroki, for Uraraka. And then suddenly, he was.
But that was so not what he’d meant.
He wanted to have the power to save them. To do what he needed to, when it was needed. To protect himself and others. It was like he’d hit a roadblock in mastering One for All. He’d tried and tried, but he couldn’t safely push his limits any farther. Was this where it ended for him? Terminal velocity? Was his body simply too weak to hold this much power inside of it? It had frustrated him lately, and it all came spilling out in his versus exercise that day.
Against the last person he wanted to hurt on purpose.
He shifted, trying to iron the kinks out of his battered body. A sharp pain ran up his right leg. But he shoved the hurt down, knowing that she was suffering way worse than he was.
It was all his fault, too.
Ochako sighed softly, looking out of the fourteenth-story window. Her nose wrinkled as a fresh wave of alcohol scent reached her, another reminder of the ultra-sterile environment she’d found herself in. Recovery Girl’s office was small and lonely, especially in the dead of night. Still, though, it was better than a hospital. With how much trouble her friends often got into, she’d seen more than enough of those this school year.
The small lamp in the room’s corner casted an eerie orange glow, making the shadows long, deep, and pretty intimidating. It sucked being here all by herself. Her friends had all left a while ago, after Recovery Girl insisted she stay overnight, that way the older hero could stay in her office and check on Ochako as needed. Through the window, she could see the lit-up panels on the front side of the Heights Alliance buildings, making constellations of their own in the darkness. Her friends must be asleep by now, warm and cozy in their own rooms.
Well, except for one.
She took a deep breath, pulling up her smile. She could hear the tears in his shuddering breaths. He... he really must’ve been taking this hard. She knew she would be.
“I know you’re out there,” she murmured, and despite everything a small smile curled onto her lips. Her voice was weak, but she didn’t care much. “You can’t get away with avoiding me forever, ya know."
On the other side of the door, Izuku squeaked.
He’d had his knees pulled up to his chest, chin resting on them tiredly, his eyes burning with a need for sleep even though his anxious mind definitely wasn’t gonna give him any. He hadn’t even made that much noise, just leaned back against the door—
Oh. She was still awake.
Was… was she in so much pain that she couldn’t sleep?
Izuku had been working up the nerve to see her, and was too much of a coward to do it while she was awake— he was brave enough to admit that, at least. But now that he’d been found out, he knew it would be no good to hide from her. Slowly, he rose to his feet, trying to settle his shaking. He shyly poked his head into the office.
His heart nearly shattered at the sight of her.
“Deku!” she said, and he could hear the airy greeting in her voice, the one she always gave him. He cringed.
She was all laid out on the bed, her shoulders propped up with half a dozen soft pillows although the rest of her body laid flat. Her messy brown hair fanned out around her like a halo. Her face was totally free now, free of the scratches her impact had given her, almost like she hadn't fallen at all. She was wearing a hospital gown, too. Izuku didn’t even think Recovery Girl had any in here. Although, he supposed, she couldn’t very well go shirtless like the guys could.
Heat flooded his face at the mental image. He erased it on the spot.
But then he actually glanced down to her torso. Bruises littered her whole body, but he could see them just above the gown’s low V-neck—
The bandages.
The bandages that he had given her.
He shuffled over to her, sad eyes glued to his clasped hands.
He didn't even notice her tilting her head, bright brown eyes flashing with happiness to see him.
“Uraraka… um, hi.”
“Hi?” she said, clearly confused. He flinched, snapping his eyes shut. He scrambled for something, anything, to say, but he simply couldn’t. There weren’t any words, when you’d put a friend in the hospital. Let alone your best friend. “Deku?”
The poor guy. He looked... downright ashamed. Ochako's eyebrows knit together as she examined him. She knew his mind was running faster than Iida on leg day.
Finally, he dragged his eyes up. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. She should hate him, but—
Seeing her now, with wide, lit-up eyes, a soft voice and gentle smile, as bright as ever… this was almost worse. Did he want her to hate him? He sure did hate himself.
His was the power to protect… or it was supposed to be. But One for All was too unpolished in his clumsy hands. He wanted so badly to improve— to be the hero he wanted to be— to save people with a smile on his face—
And Ochako, Ochako of all people, had paid the price for his frustration.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.
“I--I--I’m so sorry,” he spat out. “I wanted to go faster. I thought, if I used more energy, I could jump as high as you were, and pull you down with me! I-I never thought my kick would land so hard. It was an accident, I—” He sniffled. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Deku, you…” She frowned, concern lining her gaze and replacing any joy to be found there. She rested her hand on the bed's guardrail. Almost like she wanted to reach out. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Uraraka…” His eyes went wide and panicky, and he waved his fists in front of him. He was shaking his head before he realized it. “I broke six ribs.”
“Well, ‘s two now,” she muttered. "Ah-- I think."
“I knocked you out. Recovery Girl said you were lucky I didn’t puncture a lung!”
She sighed, shaking her head. It was slow, because she was still in pain. Contemplation settled in her eyes... almost like she was choosing her words carefully. Izuku didn’t understand it. “Deku, we were fighting each other. I should've taken your new moves into account. You don't have to apologize, I’m fine."
“You’re so not,” he whispered. She wasn’t fine, no matter what she said. She’d said the same thing at the Sports Festival, and had broken down in tears as soon as he’d turned his back. He could see the pain in her smile, how she rested a hand on her midsection, trying to give herself some comfort. She wasn’t okay, and he wouldn’t let her lie this time.
Especially not when he was the cause.
His hair fell into his eyes. A shadow crossed his face. He threaded his fingers into his sweatpants. “I hurt you,” he said, and his voice cracked. “Bad. I was reckless… and it wasn’t just me who felt the consequences this time.” How many times did this have to happen before he was good enough? “I'm so sorry, I—”
He cared about her so much. She was one of the people he'd vowed to protect, always, but…
“Deku, listen. I’m okay,” she said, softer this time. Her smile faded. “It hurts a little, I guess,” she admitted. “But we’ve all been through worse. And you’ve been through way worse. It’s what I signed up for, after all. I don’t blame you, I know you would never hurt your friends on purpose." She clicked her tongue. There was something else she'd noticed, too. "You did get me good, though. You don't normally fight like that, so I was more concerned about you.” She puffed out her cheeks. “You did seem kinda upset today.”
He wasn't an emotional fighter. Never had been. Even when he was crying with frustration or desperation or fear, he was calculating in his movements. It was something she'd always admired in him. Even when he was in "hero mode" and not thinking, he didn't follow through on a move he didn't absolutely want. Which was why it startled her when she'd met his eyes earlier and he looked terrified.
All she remembered was pure regret, and then it all went black.
Izuku flinched again. Geez. His voice shot up an octave as he threw his hands up. “I wasn’t taking it out on you, I swear!”
Ochako sank back into the blankets. “I know, Deku. You’re not really the type to do something like that. But…" Sure did seem like something was up with him. "Wanna talk about it? You’ve… kinda got a captive audience.”
He grimaced. He didn’t mind talking to her at all. Really… any excuse to stay was one he was willing to use. They didn’t have class tomorrow. Spending time with her… was the least he owed her, by way of comfort. Maybe—maybe it would help her, somehow. “I wouldn’t want to bother you with all of that if you’re still hurt…”
Ochako’s smile grew considerably happier. “You’ll stay? Then yeah, I’m up to it! Being up here by myself is no fun. And I always like talking to you, you know. You never bother me.”
He blushed, trying to stop himself from making that gross face she didn’t like. Seemed like all Izuku ever did was bother people before coming to UA. Everyone had accepted him so readily with open arms, and Uraraka was the first, so she always held a special place in his heart. He always liked talking with her, too. He felt better afterwards, just being around her motivated him!
He loved how easy it was to talk to her. She was so nonjudgmental. Stupid things came out of his mouth all the time, but it was never stupid to Uraraka.
Not that Ochako thought he was stupid at all. A little awkward maybe, but probably the smartest person she knew.
Finally, Izuku nodded, mustering a shaky smile and pulling Recovery Girl’s stool to the bed. It was lifted all the way for the short old lady, so his legs swung off the edge when he sat down. “I... really didn't mean to hurt you. Or anyone else. I just-- Well—Iida and Todoroki have improved so much over the past few weeks! And you’re able to stay afloat for longer and longer periods. I guess— I guess I wanted to get better, too. I’ve been… having some trouble with my Quirk-"
If you could call seeing the ghosts of the former wielders of said Quirk tell their tragic backstories in your dreams “trouble,” then yeah. He sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I feel like I’m not getting strong fast enough.” His predecessors had warned him of all the dangers in the world. How was he supposed to face it, so weak like this? "I don't really know. It's... kinda stupid."
"It's not," she murmured. "Wantin' to be the best you can isn't stupid, Deku. Besides, your Quirk... it's... pretty weird, huh?"
To say the least. But-- He could tell Ochako some of the technical stuff without spilling his secret, right? She really wasn’t much for prying unless he offered up the information. He knew he could trust her. So, he said, “Yeah. It is. Um… I pretty much have access to a hundred percent of my power at any given time. But it’s a lot of power, and my body’s too weak to use it all at once.”
“Which is why you used to break yourself,” she said. “Like, a lot.”
“Yeah-- so ever since the internships I figured out how to use only a small portion at a time. I’ve been trying to up the portion bit by bit, but the process is taking forever. I’m seriously just stuck at about eight right now.”
"Eight?” she shrieked, and he shushed her. Her eyes remained wide, though. “All of that was eight percent? What’s the goal here, to bench press Mt. Fuji?”
“To carry the weight of the world,” he chuckled darkly.
She drew back. He didn't normally say things like that. “Deku…”
“But I didn’t hit you at eight," he said quickly, mortified by his own comment. Where had that come from? "Which is why I felt so bad. I probably hit you at around fifteen, I think, if I’m gauging it correctly.”
Fifteen? she mouthed in disbelief. “You broke six ribs.”
“Yeah, I… I know.”
“Any higher and you coulda killed me.”
“…I know.” Suddenly his eyes and nose were burning again. He could see her hip through the folds of the hospital gown, a really awful shade of green and purple. He'd-- he'd done that-- he put her here-- he could've killed her, he was so careless-- "I wanna get better, but this-- this is not the way to do it and I just feel so--so--smothered by everything and it's all happening so fast that I don't have time to think and I--“
The world needed him. It needed his power! His predecessors had been drilling it into him, every time they spoke, the dangers that the world faced! And he wasn't good enough to handle it!
And, just like it always happened, his tears came out. He hadn't realized how stressful all of this was. He though he could rationalize his way through it, but--
Seeing Ochako in that hospital bed broke him. She wouldn't be the last, either, not if he didn't get it together.
He met Ochako's kind, sympathetic gaze. But he could also see her own sorrow. She shouldn't be sad. This was his fault.
And so, just like it always happened, it came tumbling out to her.
"I can't-- even explain it--" For so many different reasons. "But-- but-- I feel so bad and I wanna get better because we know the League is planning something and Endeavor can't hold out for long and-- I need to-- I need to, I need to--" He was hurtling through space, and maybe he really was directionless. He talked and talked until the words blurred together. Even he didn't know what he was saying anymore.
But suddenly, Ochako's voice broke through.
"Deku!" she cried. "Deku, slow down!" He squeezed his eyes shut. Ochako waved her hand in the air. "You're going too fast." She allowed her arms to fall back onto the bed, and Izuku could not stop starting at where she caressed her waist.
Stupid.
"Slow down... just... slow down."
Her own expression fell. He really had been... so different lately... Had he been carrying this all by himself? For her, it had just been another dumb exercise-- students broke their ribs all the time, especially the older kids. But Izuku had taken it so personally. He really did think that he had to shoulder the burden.
This went deeper than wanting to be a pro. Or even being number one. She knew that, but she didn't voice it.
They would build that bridge when he was good and ready. Forcing the foundations now would only make it collapse later. So, instead, she moved her arm. Izuku was so busy staring at the floor that he didn't even notice, until her hand wrapped around his.
He looked up, disbelieving, but she didn't waver.
"You're so impatient," she breathed after a moment, finally deciding what to say.
"Impatient?" he murmured.
Someone else had called him that, too. All Might? Gran Torino? He couldn't remember. He looked down at his hands, all scarred up from when he'd first inherited his Quirk. The tough white skin stood out clearly, even though he was pretty pale naturally. It took him a moment, but after calming down his racing heart, he returned Uraraka's gesture. She was so soft. And kind. Just like he tried to be. It was strange and unfamiliar, but--
He really liked holding Ochako’s hand.
Her smile returned. “Don’t feel bad, Deku. You’ll get there, okay? Just— just think of this battle with me as a stepping stone. A literal stepping stone.” She tried to giggle, but it caught in her throat. “Ow, it hurts to laugh.”
He sat there with his mouth wide open. It took him a second, but he was able to pull himself together. “Oh, man… I’m so sorry—”
"Deku, enough apologizing!” A hint of annoyance crept into her voice. “I told you that I didn’t blame you, okay? You gotta stop being so hard on yourself.” She squeezed his hand. “You are impatient. You want to get better all at once, but you don't stop to smell the roses. I think that’s part of your problem. You know, when I was learning to float myself it seemed like it was impossible. I just wanted to do it. But slowly, I realized I was getting better. It’s the same for you, you know? You don’t realize how strong you’ve gotten, but just in the last few weeks— you’re faster. I’ve noticed. You can jump higher. You never would’ve been able to reach me that high a few weeks ago! You’re totally improving.”
Her hand traveled up to his cheek, taking it, and lifting his eyes to meet hers. Izuku flushed at the contact, but followed through anyway. His cheek was wet from all his tears, and she brushed her thumb across his freckles. His shoulders seized up. She was nervous, too, but he was hurting and she couldn't help it. She and Deku could throw punches with the best of them, but this kind of fight was always the hardest. Especially alone. “You just don’t realize it ‘cause you’re stuck in that big head of yours so much.”
She flicked his forehead. He frowned, rubbing the sting away. “Do you… really think so?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. As Iida would say, it’s not very heroic to lie, right?” Her eyes softened. "You've got time, Deku. You worry so much. But really, you shouldn't be putting so much pressure on yourself anyway. You're not alone."
You're not alone.
That... really was... what One for All had told him, wasn't it?
He always kept struggling under the added weight of their legacy, and that just made him fall faster. He wanted to fly so badly. But maybe... they were trying to protect him. Maybe that weight was less of a burden, and more like a, a— a parachute, one that reminded him of his limits so that he could push them safely. It pulled him back to prevent him from hitting the ground the they had. Maybe Ochako had a point. Maybe... he was going too fast.
Another unknown feeling stirred in Izuku’s heart. A soft smile returned. He really wished he could share this revelation with her, but he knew that it wasn't safe. At least not yet. Maybe... maybe one day he would.
Slight electricity shot up his heart at the thought of being that close to her. He would like that. A lot.
Gradually, though, the warmth faded from her eyes. It was almost like sadness had replaced it. He was about to ask her what was wrong, because she was so lively a second ago, but she dropped her hand before he could.
“Thank you… for coming to see me,” she said.
“I…” He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I honestly don’t think I would’ve slept until I did. I’m… really happy you’re okay. You’ve gotten strong too, Uraraka.”
“Hangin’ round you guys,” she said with a soft smile, “I have to be.”
Finally, finally, he smiled, too. She was right-- he did get a better distance today. Of course she'd deflect her own pain to make him feel better. He still felt so awful... but maybe he would have to take her word for it. He'd come to apologize. But, as usual, she just ended up having his back. But he wasn't frustrated like he had been. She'd helped him realize something.
They would get better, together.
He owed it to her.
He still had a long way to go... but he would make it up to her.
Hours later, Izuku had fallen over onto her bed with an exhausted, drool-drenched look on his face, both arms draped on the blanket. One hand cradled his forehead, but the other rested just on top of hers, caressing the bones he’d broken. Ochako was unsure if he even knew he’d done it, or if he was just seeking comfort in his sleep.
Against her better judgement, Ochako reached out with her free hand, and ran it through his scruffy hair. It was nice, and she could afford herself the indulgence. They were best friends, after all. And he needed more reassurance than she did.
She didn’t know if this was part of falling— but she’d done that a long time ago, anyway.
Talking him down his spiral was never easy. He was always letting things consume him. Cracking her ribs had hurt, of course it had, but her judgement had been just as foolish— thinking he wasn’t strong enough to reach her. He was always strong enough to reach her.
Ochako was trying to break him from that habit, letting his problems eat away at him. She was just glad he’d come to her before he started avoiding her for real... ‘cause honestly, that would’ve hurt worse.
The weight of the world, huh...
The pull between them had always been steady, all throughout their friendship, even in their weakest moments— eight months, twenty-one days, and six hours they’d been in freefall. But as long as they were looking out for one another, that velocity would never be terminal.
Ochako had always known that. She’d seen traces of it in his shimmering light, the hero he would be one day.
She wished more than anything that Izuku would see it, too.
“I was a billion little pieces
‘Til you pulled me into focus.
Astronomy in reverse.
It was me who was discovered…”