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It was small things that made Izuku want to curl up and die.
Two days ago, he got back to his dorm room and couldn't find his notebook. He looked up and down, asked anyone if they had seen it. But when he asked them, they all recoiled from him.
Like they were a mix of disgusted and afraid.
Izuku went back to his room after that. Searched through his shelves. Found nothing. He sat on his bed and stared in space until one in the morning.
For the past two days, nobody would speak to him. Nobody wanted to look at him.
He had asked for a pencil in the middle of class and his classmates looked like they'd sooner stab him in the eye with one. He hadn't mentioned anything after that. Aizawa's frosty gaze had been on him the entire time.
Had they finally realized?
Had they finally come to the conclusion he was just a waste of space?
Izuku kept his head held low as he walked into class. He took out a new notebook he had gotten and picked up his pencil. He had seen a battle this morning and gotten an idea for a classmate's power attributes. They could use it for other things.
Writing was his comfort.
Before he even realized it, he was muttering quietly to himself, thinking about the correct way to word it. He couldn't sound like an idiot after all, right? If he did, then the others would surely hate him.
"Would you stop muttering?" Iida snapped.
Izuku looked up in surprise. "Huh?"
"You're being distracting and your muttering is annoying." Iida's glare was on par with a blizzard.
Izuku curled in on himself, hiding behind the fringe of his hair. "...sorry."
"And why are you even writing in that notebook? It's creepy as hell."
Izuku wanted to disappear into the floor and never come out again. It was just as he thought. It was too creepy. His classmates had finally gotten fed up dealing with a useless, creepy Deku.
He set down his pencil, and the rest of the class released breaths and relaxed. Izuku wiped tears from the corners of his eyes before they could escape and make this an even bigger mess. Crying made him a target.
He needed something to do with his hands, though. So he decided to flip to a new page and start sketching out something non-hero related. The first that came to his mind was a raven.
He drew it in a mid-flight pose, wings half-unfurled and head tilted to the side. He didn't miss how his classmates tensed up again when they saw him moving his pencil in his notebook.
He ignored it though. Pretended he did miss it. Pretended he couldn't feel their stares burning holes into his body, pretended he didn't feel like he was back in Aldera and he was quirkless.
Pretended he wasn't contemplating swan dives.
No, instead he put all of his attention into the feathers of the raven, making sure they reflected light the right way and didn't look hastily done. He focused on making the most of his situation.
And if that meant drawing a pretty bird, bite him.
Izuku slunk out of the classroom, making sure to say as quiet and be as small as possible.
He wasn't dumb enough to try and attempt lunch. He was too fat, anyways. That was probably part of the reason they hated him. He ate too much. He was too fat. He looked two seconds away from falling over.
Izuku went back to his dorm room for the lunch period, curled up in a corner and crying softly to himself. This was what was best, though.
In Present Mic's class, he wasn't as bad as Aizawa, but was still aloof. He didn't call him Little Listener like always. Because he hated Izuku too.
Izuku went back to the dorms that night, hiding in his room until dinner. He walked out, hesitant to walk to the table. He took a seat as far away from everyone as he could. The others moved their chairs away from him.
But Bakugou simply skipped him. Izuku was debating saying something. He shouldn't. He didn't want to be a burden.
"Sorry." Bakugou said in the most unapologetic voice Izuku had ever heard. "There wasn't enough for you. Besides, aren't you fine? I bet you ate a lot for lunch. Don't want to get fat, after all."
Izuku left quickly, shoulders hunched. He grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen, but hesitated walking out. Did he really need this? He was already fat enough. There was no use adding fuel to the fire.
He put the granola bar back and went back to his room. He showered and went to sleep hungry.
In the morning he didn't eat his normal bowl of cereal. That was too many calories. It would make him fatter.
Instead, he ate a simple piece of bread.
He felt disgusting.
Izuku made his way to class. He checked his phone. He noticed All Might had been avoiding him too.
He thought Izuku was creepy, too. He thought he was too fat, a waste of space.
Izuku shoved every emotion off his face as he walked into class. He sat at his desk, making himself as small as possible, and continued working on his raven. He wanted it to be perfect.
He noticed the stares.
What a waste of space.
Izuku hid in an empty classroom during lunch.
He went back to the dorms, snagging two granola bars from the kitchen.
Fatty.
He hid in his dorm room, but when he turned, all he saw was the room of a stalker. He was so fucking creepy.
Izuku grabbed a trash bag. He was dirty. He needed to clean.
He swept all of the merchandise off the shelves, tore down the posters, ripped away every All Might thing he had. Everything had to go. His limited edition Golden Age costume figurine, the last poster of its kind, the goddamn rug.
He had spent years collecting them.
But that was creepy.
He snuck out of his room with the trash bag, heading outside the building to the dumpster. He went back to his room without talking to anyone. His room was clean.
His room was dirty.
Izuku collapsed in a corner and started sobbing.
Week two.
Izuku had finished his raven. He was working on a wolf now.
He was still so fucking dirty. So fucking creepy.
Two days ago, he had fallen asleep during a lesson because he hadn't slept that night. After all, sleep was what made him fatter. If he didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't breathe, he would be thin and not take up so much space.
He had really needed the notes. He knew he was awful, but he needed to be awful as he passed the test. His grades were the only thing keeping him here, he was sure. Nobody wanted a creepy, stalkerish nobody in their school.
Nobody wanted a deku.
Izuku gathered the frayed ends of what was left of his charred courage, and gathered the guts to walk up to Iida. The boy might hate him, but he was the class president. He didn't even deny Mineta notes. Because no matter how bad you were, you should set a good example for UA and pass.
Izuku looked at the ground and spoke the softest he ever had in this school. He talked like he did when he went to Aldera. "I-i-iida-kun, c-can I copy d-down your notes. S-s-sorry to be a bother."
And Iida had looked at him with the most disgusted stare Izuku had ever seen. He hadn't even looked at Stain the Hero Killer with that amount of hatred, that amount of repulsion. "If you want to pass, maybe you shouldn't fall asleep and take notes like the rest of us, Midoriya."
Izuku's courage turned to mere ashes. He refused to let the tears fall, though. He hunched into himself more, giving a stiff nod as he turned and walked away. It was just like he thought. He was so goddamn useless.
Izuku pretended his heart was ripping apart. He grabbed his notebook, going to put it in his bag.
It was snatched out of his hand.
Izuku looked up, and flinched as he saw Bakugou. For a moment, his vision glitched, and all he could see was Bakugou back in his old uniform, the classroom the same as his middle school, and the teacher blissfully ignoring them.
"K-k-k-kacchan, give it back." Izuku pleaded in a small whisper.
Bakugou scoffed, just like he did in Aldera, and activated his quirk. He tossed it out of the conveniently open window.
Aizawa did nothing, and Izuku knew he saw it.
Izuku grabbed his bag and ran out of the class, wiping a sleeve across his face. It didn't stop the tears from falling though. He ran off-campus, over to the dorms, and rushed inside. He ignored his classmates, not that they did anything more than stare, and ran straight to his room.
He yanked open the door and shut it behind him, and set down his bag. His room.
So fucking dirty.
Izuku cried out, activating his quirk without even thinking about it. With only his own anguish a witness, he shoved every last book he owned off the shelf and onto the floor. He swiped everything off his desk, flipping it. He almost went for the bed, but remembered that was UA issued.
Izuku collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down his face.
So fucking
dirty.
Izuku reached out in a trance, grabbing the first book. With an activation of his quirk, it had turned to cinders. So he had a way to clean. He had a way to make everything clean and neat and not dirty.
Izuku cried as he destroyed everything that was his in the room.
Izuku went to leave the class as he normally did. Quietly.
His skin had gotten paler, dark bags had gathered under his eyes, his face became gaunter, but he still wasn't thin enough. He was still so fat, he still ate so much, he was still so dirty, so ugly, so useless-
"Midoriya." Aizawa called.
Izuku froze, then regretfully turned. "...y-y-yes?"
"Don't stutter. Come with me." Aizawa growled.
Izuku followed him out of the room, head down. A small voice in his head was whispering to him that something was wrong. He shouldn't be following him so easily. It wasn't safe for him.
Izuku squashed the voice and followed obediently. If he didn't, UA was sure to kick him out for being the worst student they had ever accepted. They were sure to realize he was a waste.
Did he even want to be here anymore?
Aizawa led him out to the street in front of the school. Izuku turned to him, making sure to keep his gaze on the ground.
"What's-"
Someone grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his back, forcing his wrists together and slapping something cold around them. Izuku turned, looking up to his teacher with fear in his eyes.
"Get in the car." An officer barked in a harsh voice.
Izuku let the tears roll down his cheeks, but he got into the car without resistance. He shook as they rode to the station, completely silent. He was dragged inside, into a back room with bright lights and shoved into a chair.
A man appeared in front of him, slamming a notebook onto the table. Izuku flinched.
But he recognized that notebook.
It was his notebook. The one that went missing.
"Do you journal?" The man demanded.
Izuku nodded meekly.
"What do you journal about?"
"Q-quirks. I like analyzing them." To help him get away.
"Have you given any of this information away to anybody?"
Izuku looked up in confusion. He shook his head.
A sharp slap hit his cheek so hard it left behind a handprint.
Izuku zoned out for the rest of it.
...
Tsukauchi walked into the station at a brisk pace.
They said they had caught the kid they believed was the traitor. He had ordered them to wait until he got there, which was about a couple hours. But when he walked to the room, he got to see a bruised, bloodied, and battered child being slapped again.
His eyes were dead, and he looked like he disassociated a while ago. Tsukuachi shoved open the door to the room.
"The hell is going on here?" He demanded.
"We went ahead with the interrogation. You were too far away. But he's good. A traitor right to the end." A detective growled.
Izuku looked dead to the world.
...
Izuku was aching all over.
He was thinking about dogs. If he got out of here, he was so getting a dog.
Dogs didn't turn on you. They didn't growl and snap and bite and slap you to try and get evidence for what they believe is right. They trust you, and they're loyal once you earn that trust. Izuku would love a dog.
"Hey, Midoriya?"
What kind of dog would he want, though?
"Midoriya."
He could get more than one so they could be friends.
"Hey, Midoriya."
They would have each other.
Someone touched his shoulder. "Midoriya!"
Izuku jolted back to the present, jerking back but being stopped by the cuffs connecting his hands to the table. Tsukauchi was in front of him, a worried expression on his face. Why would he be worried about Izuku?
"God, what did they do to you?" He whispered softly.
Izuku looked back down, about to go back to thinking about dogs.
"Hey, look at me." Izuku complied. "I need you to answer a few questions for me, and then we'll be completely done, alright? Just a few."
Izuku blinked in a lazy manner, before nodding.
...
Aizawa couldn't take a chance.
He had been filing paperwork when Midoriya left the class. It was an odd day.
His classmates were aloof to him, and seemed to distance themselves. And he didn't miss how the rest of the class stayed, even after Midoriya left. Uraraka grabbed a notebook from her bag and walked up to him.
She set it on the desk, and Aizawa recognized the neat, scripted handwriting. Midoriya's journal.
"We.... think Deku's the traitor." Uraraka said quietly.
Aizawa looked at her in surprise, then to the rest of the class. They nodded, each one looking terrified. A notebook could scare his students so easily? He took it, opening the page. At first glance, the analysis and detail was astounding.
But then he saw the sections on weaknesses.
Uraraka Ochacho.
Break her hands.
Aizawa's stomach sank.
...
Izuku answered the questions again.
This time, they didn't come out of nowhere and slap him. They didn't call him a traitor.
He wasn't the traitor.
Him? A traitor?
He had read dystopian science-fiction romance novels more realistic.
The detective sighed at the end, and reached out. Izuku flinched back, expecting pain.
But he only reached for his cuffs, grabbing a key and unlatching them. His wrists were bright red and bleeding in a couple spots. Izuku blinked up at the detective, half-expecting to be punished for flinching. It was what he deserved, after all.
The detective's eyes were filled with pity.
Izuku really hated that emotion. Pity. What did it do for anyone? It was just more proof he was lesser, more proof he deserved all of this. If he was pitied, he was weak. Izuku blinked as he had that thought.
God, he had really been spending too much time around Kacchan, hadn't he?
Izuku walked out of the station, activating his quirk and running down the street. Back to the dorms, back up the stairs past his classmates, who looked at him like he didn't belong there. Of course he didn't belong there.
He ran to his room, slamming the door behind him and hitting the floor, sobbing loudly alone in his empty room.
Izuku pulled himself together.
It was over. It really was.
He was sick of being a hero. What was the point, if all they did was this? What was the point, if all they did was take and take until there was nothing left-
Izuku did the research, and the only thing left behind in his room was the paperwork to drop out of UA. Everything there. He even forged his own mother's signature. It didn't matter. It wasn't like he'd ever see her again to tell her he was sorry.
He walked out of his room, after having properly incinerated his uniforms and cleaned them up adequately. He was only wearing the button up, pants, and his signature red high tops. He had discarded the blazer and tie.
Izuku walked down the hall, down the stairs, with nothing but confidence. Because it was finally over. He was finally out of here.
Izuku had nothing left to lose.
Everything was gone.
Izuku was walking past the common room, ready to leave without saying a thing. But, unfortunately, life denied him even those simple pleasures. Because Uraraka and Iida and the rest of the class walked up to him.
"Deku-kun," Uraraka said.
Izuku turned a cold gaze on them. The spark of determination in his green eyes was gone, leaving only a frigid cold behind. "Aren't I Midoriya?"
Uraraka flinched. "We're sorry. I found your notebook, and I read it, and I panicked and gave it to Aizawa-sensei, and he told us to watch out because you..."
"Were the traitor." Izuku finished in a flat tone.
"You have to admit, it was pretty scary." Uraraka said.
"Maybe you should keep your nose out of other people's business." Izuku retorted.
"Dude, don't be like that." Kirishima said, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "We were just scared, and Aizawa-sensei told us to avoid you-"
"Avoid me?" Izuku gave a cold chuckle. "Maybe you should consult Bakugou on the whole 'avoid me' thing."
Kirishima flinched. So he knew.
Izuku sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned started to continue his walk down the hall and for the door. He was done here. Everyone had their breaking points. And this was his.
He paused with his hand on the knob, though.
"I hope you know that this is all your fault."
...
The next they saw Izuku, he was giggling with Toga and slinging an arm around Dabi's shoulders, a deranged look in his eyes, as he appeared with the two at the training camp in the woods.