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If you were still quirkless they wouldn't be your friends.
You should've listened to Kacchan and took a swan dive off the roof.
Useless.
C̵r̴y̶b̴a̶b̴y̷.
Y̶o̵u̵'̸r̷e̸ ̵s̷o̴ ̵f̵a̴r̴ ̴b̷e̴h̴i̴n̶d̸.̸
Y̵̨̐ő̷͎ų̶̃'̴̗̓l̵̻̒l̸̜̾ ̷̖̄n̴̻͋ẽ̷̢v̵̩͠ë̶̫r̵͓̋ ̶̜̅c̸̺͐a̴̟̓t̴̼̋c̵̖͝h̶͚̃ ̷̬ṵ̵̿p̷̠̓.̵̝͘
A̵̬͝i̴̙̎z̷͖͋a̴̎͜w̸̰̍a̷̰͒ ̶͇̓s̴̜̾h̶̯͘o̵̯̚u̴̳̇l̵̟̇d̶͍̏'̴̘̔v̵̭͆ẽ̶͚ ̴͉͊e̷͎͂x̵̖̅ṗ̷ͅé̸̺ĺ̵͈l̷͙͘ě̷̗ḍ̶̎ ̴̻͘y̷͈͗o̶̪̅u̷̺̿ ̴͙̕o̶̖͠n̸̻͋ ̶̟̈t̷͓̿h̷̟͋ḙ̷͊ ̴̺͛f̴͚ȋ̸̻r̷͖̄s̷͜t̸̲̓ ̶̟̄d̶̮͛a̶̱̿y̵̛͓.̴̫̎
Ã̴̬l̵̹̃l̸̰͆ ̵̺͋M̸̧̗̓̑ì̷̻ģ̶̗̐̽h̴͎̓ť̴̘͗ ̴̘̠͒́m̷͍̈͌͜a̶͙͚͊̂d̶̤̑ĕ̸̤̭̍ ̷͓̌a̷͉͆̆ ̴̜̩̂m̷̡̔̚i̴̢͇̍s̵̝̲̽t̴͍͍͆a̷͓̅k̵̮̓ȅ̶̘ ̸̰͌c̶̰̣̊͘ḧ̷̺́͂o̴͚̔ͅo̴̤̅̅s̷͚̀į̶̳n̴͉̐̊g̶̞ ̸̫͉͊Y̶͖͈Ǒ̶̺̕U̶̡̒̚ ̵͍͙́͂a̵͍̐s̶̥̃̾ ̷̥̽h̷̦̐i̵ͅs̵̰̈͝ ̴͖͗ͅs̴̹̱͋̆u̸̟̣͘͝c̸͕͚̊c̸̣̓e̵͚̫̚s̴̯̊͛s̵̘̀͘o̵̥̣͆͘r̸̥̒.̴̯͝
G̶̞̙͌̓͌ͅO̴̯̐̍͝ ̶͓̃̒K̶̢͆͊̀I̴͎̗͒L̸͍̝̞̊L̶̠̀̅ ̴̣͍̜̈́͋Y̵̬͌Ö̶̧͕̼̔U̸͔͘R̷͙̙͍͠S̸̨̼͗̆Ė̶͙́L̴̻̞͊̽̈́F̷̦!̷̹̙̃̍̅
"I need help,"
Izuku whispered into the quiet that was his room. He'd been feeling really dismayed with his current progress in his training and that frustration was grabbed by those helpful little Depression Demons he used to deal with before he got into UA, twisting his thoughts and guiding them deep into the darkness. Terrible things filtered across his mind and he brushed his fingers over the scars on his wrists.
An urge to add more to them flared up inside. To watch that familiar red liquid flow down his arms, dripping onto the wooden floor.
Izuku felt like he was a puppet on a string as he got up from his bed and went over to where he kept his… supplies . He had to do it. The demons wouldn't stop until there was blood.
"Can you promise you'll tell someone the next time you feel like you might hurt yourself?"
The memory of being in his therapist's office shook him from his daze. He'd made a promise to them. To Dr. Ishi and his mom.
Heros keep their promises.
His legs felt like lead, but Izuku dragged himself out of his dorm room anyway. He didn't know what time it was. Late. He hoped someone would be up in the common room. Maybe Sero, Ashido, and Kaminari were still watching High School Musical. Maybe he could convince them to watch the sequels too.
Anything to keep from being alone.
Shouta glared at his computer screen. He was trying to identify a villain from shoddy surveillance footage.
He was sitting at the table in the 1-A dorm common area because three of his students had somehow persuaded him to let them watch a movie after curfew. When it had ended he, of course, sent them all straight to bed despite their begging him to watch another one.
He was enjoying his solitude when his dear little Problem Child stumbled out of the elevator. He felt the desire to groan, but the look on Midoriya's face kept him quiet.
"Midoriya?" The teacher said, breaking his precious silence. The teen looked at him with glazed eyes, opening his mouth to speak:
"I... um... I need..." His student stumbled over his words. "I was thinking... And I made a promise..." Wringing his hands. "And Heros keep their promises, so..." Green eyes darting around the room. "I think someone should... I think I need... Someone to watch me... tonight..."
With the last word, Midoriya's eyes found their way back to Aizawa's, waiting for an answer.
Shouta studied him for a second before he jerked his head towards the couch. He knew about the teen's mental health problems and he was thanking every god he could think of that this kid had decided to get help instead of doing something drastic. Shouta shivered at the thought of what might've happened had Midoriya thought something as simple as asking for someone to watch him so he wouldn’t hurt himself would be too much of a bother.
The young man half-rushed half-dragged himself to the couch his teacher had gestured to and sat down on the edge. Shouta expected him to turn on the TV to some All Might show, but he just sat there wringing his hands and staring at the floor.
Shouta let out a quiet sigh as he picked up his laptop and his mug of coffee and migrated over to the other side of the couch. He placed his cup on the coffee table and grabbed the remote to hand to his student.
Midoriya looked between the remote and his teacher's face, confused.
"Thought you might like a distraction," was the only explanation given.
The kid nodded in thanks and took the remote from the man, turning on the TV to some Hero show. Shouta noted that it wasn't about All Might.
Shouta continued his work, occasionally glancing at his Problem Child to make sure he was still there. As the night wore on, Midoriya went from sitting on the edge of the couch to slouching against the back to laying his head on the armrest to sleeping with his legs curled up against his chest.
When the teen fell asleep, Shouta released a sigh of relief. Midoriya Izuku was okay. He was safe. And as long as Shouta had a say in it, he was going stay that way for a long, long time.