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Rescue work is harder than Izuku gives it credit for. Sure, the provisional exam had actors, but none of them could compare to the true panic real civilians had. When a hero wasn’t around they either tended to linger or run into trouble.
An average panicked mind wasn’t always logical.
The small landslide class 1A was helping with wasn’t gruesome or gory, but there were plenty of minor injuries and tears to deal with, especially as it’d been sudden.
“You okay?” Izuku asks, holding out a hand for a stunned looking civilian. The woman looks around Aizawa-sensei’s age, her brown hair mussed with debris. One of her hands is blood and scraped, the other still with the winter glove on.
She reaches out blindly and he carefully takes her injured hand. Her eyes aren’t focusing right, so he pulls her up and towards the medics.
“I think she’s in shock?” He says, helping her to sit while the paramedic grabs some instruments.
“Acute stress disorder,” the paramedic answers, “Shock would be insufficient blood flow to the extremities.”
“Oh, sorry!”
“It’s okay! T.V. gets it wrong all the time, you aren’t the first or last to make that mistake.” The paramedic laughs and waves Izuku off.
There isn’t much left to do at the site so he joins a few of his classmates in front of Aizawa-sensei and Midnight-sensei.
Grading.
Of course.
While Izuku is confident, he can’t help the rush of anxiety that shoots up his spine. It’s for nothing though, as Midnight-sensei stops beside him with a smile.
“Full marks, Midoriya! You did a good job today!” She pats him on the shoulder on the last sentence, and while Izuku isn’t touch-averse, something about it sends a crawling, creeping sensation to bloom where her palm sits.
He can’t quite control his shudder and Midnight-sensei frowns.
“Everything okay?”
Izuku hides the wince that pulls at his face, smiling through it instead. His skin is still crawling.
“Just a cold chill, Midnight-sensei!”
The soft smile she gives him shows she bought it, thankfully. He rolls his shoulder once she’s out of view.
“Deku?”
He yelps, twisting around. Uraraka stands behind him, hand on her waist. Her eyebrow is cocked, lips slightly pursed.
“Itchy arm or what?”
“Huh?” Izuku asks, blinking.
She points with her free hand at his shoulder, “You get something stuck in your costume? You’re digging at it pretty hard.”
He drops his hand, staring at it. Now that Uraraka pointed it out, his shoulder stings, though the crawling sensation is gone. Just a burn where he over-scratched at it. Something he hadn’t even realized he was doing.
“Oh...uh I guess it did,” he answers weakly, “Guess I’ll need to hit the showers back at the dorms.”
“You know,” Uraraka says, smirking, “Maybe you should get a skin tight costume! I had my reservations at first...but if they prevent landslide itch I’m all for it!”
She leans forward, pinching at the loose fabric near his neck, “See! Any kind of dust could slip on through!”
He laughs, gently pushing her away. His palms burn through his gloves at the touch, a skittering itch that crawls up his palms to the tips of his fingers. Scrunching his nose at the feeling, he shakes his hands loosely.
“You okay?” She asks, biting her lip.
He gives her another smile, “Of course!”
“Well. If your hands start bothering you, let me know! You don’t have to suffer in silence, you know?”
“Yeah,” Izuku says, “I know.”
The ride back is a smooth one, though the places where Izuku touches the bus seats burn and itch. It’s ignorable, he’s been through so much worse, so he chats easily with the others in his class until they pull up to UA.
Izuku gratefully strips off his uniform, grabbing a towel, and heading to the showers. His muscles ache from the debris removal and the terrible itch still hasn’t abated. A shower, should, be all rights, fix everything.
The warm water feels good at first, loosening his taut shoulders and calves, clearing his slightly stuffy sinuses, and washing the debris from his hair.
But soon enough his skin starts to prickle. Slow at first, like spiders crawling up his arm, but sharper soon, like shards of glass sliding up and down his back. Izuku yelps, stumbling backward and pressing hard on his skin, trying to rub away the feeling.
“Yo dude, you okay?” Kirishima asks, leaning over. Izuku takes a few panting breaths, focusing on calming down. The sensation on his skin has moved from slightly itchy to painful pinching, but now that he’s out from under the water, the feeling fades, seeping away in the humid shower air.
“Y-yeah,” Izuku replies finally, “Just stepped on something sharp.”
“Yeowch! Be careful! Cutting your foot open isn’t manly!”
“Of course!” Izuku laughs, edging his way around the water stream to turn it off, “I won’t!”
His wrist and hand burn where the water touches it.
As he’s getting dressed, Izuku realizes the strange skin problem doesn’t extend to his clothes. They feel fine, no burning, no itching, no pain at all. Bare skin contact is the worst, while a clothed touch is harder to feel.
He pinches the skin on his hand.
Nothing.
Izuku hums, towel drying his hair the rest of the way. It probably isn’t serious. If the sensation keeps up until the morning, that’s when he’ll worry. Recovery Girl was at the rescue as well, and Izuku doesn’t quite want to risk her wrath over something so small.
He trails after the other boys to the dorms. There’s an agreed upon movie night to get to and while it isn’t hero-related, Izuku is happy to spend time with his friends and classmates, especially after such a strenuous day.
Izuku finds himself wedged in between Uraraka and Todoroki, the latter almost uncomfortably warm in the heat of the common room. The line where Uraraka’s thigh presses against his prickles, a squirming pressure that keeps spreading out that Izuku forces himself to ignore.
When Ashido hops on the couch, she presses Todoroki even closer, a burning hot line against his side, and not just from the warmer body temperature.
He shifts, uncomfortable, stinging nettle-like prickles forming all over his skin. It’s on the edge of unbearable, but he grits his teeth and settles back down.
What’s some itching, anyway?
The movie starts and Izuku tries to focus, but all of his skin is burning now. He keeps shifting, uncomfortable, and he can feel both Uraraka and Todoroki’s glances as he shifts against them.
“Deku…” Uraraka whispers, looking up at him, “Are you okay?”
A wince slips through, focused as he is on not moving, and she hones in on it, frowning.
“I’m good,” he lies, whispering back, “Just a little uncomfortable.”
“You need to move?”
He shakes his head, resisting the urge to scratch at his wrists, the stinging almost all over his body at this point.
Uraraka frowns harder at that but tries to shift, almost ending up in Iida’s lap.
“Tell me if you need more room!” She pokes him, prickling spreading out from the point she pressed on his bicep.
Strained, he smiles.
“Of course.”
The movie blares on in the background and Izuku does his best to focus on it. There’s some action scene playing out, a car chase with plenty of explosions that should be a distraction but isn’t as he’s hyper-aware of the electric shocks spreading across his skin.
Absentmindedly he digs into his wrist, scratching the itch. The sharp edges of his nails bite into the flesh harder and harder until a starburst of pain flares from the area and he glances down.
Thin scratches weeping blood peer back at him. He stares back, mouth parted.
Tugging his sleeve over the area, Izuku scans the room in panic. Thankfully, no one is looking at him, focused on the screen. Swallowing, his throat suddenly dry, he rubs his hands together. The tingling is getting worse, almost as if there’s something crawling beneath his skin.
Hesitantly, he reaches up, touching his neck. Where smooth, flat skin should be, there’s a...bump. A moving bump.
Something is under his skin.
Something is under his skin.
Izuku shrieks, launching himself up. Uraraka whips around and Todoroki stands with him. He claws at his throat, desperate. His nails snag at the flesh, scoring deep red lines. Gasping, he digs as hard as he can before someone grabs his arm.
“Deku! Deku, please stop!” Uraraka is holding onto him with all she has, eyes wide. He wrenches his hand back, staggering a few steps away.
Ice crawls up his feet before he can move any further.
“Midoriya, stop.” Todoroki’s arm is outstretched, ice trailing from it. Izuku pays him no mind, hands once again clawing at his neck. Sharp shocks of pain blossom where his nails dig in, but he goes even harder, scraping and scratching as hard as he can.
“Gotta get it out,” he gasps, blood pooling under his fingernails, “Want it out!”
“Get what out!?” Uraraka yells, pushing Iida to the door. He leaves in a burst, the door slamming harsh against the frame.
His arms are wrested back and Izuku can feel the four hands that clasp them.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Shouji says, grip almost on the edge of too tight. Izuku struggles against him anyway. The faces in front of him blur, his focus narrowing to the crawling, creeping skitter that traces underneath his skin.
There’s a scoff.
“He’s obviously seeing something that isn’t there, idiots. We’ll have to wait for the teachers to get him to Recovery Girl.”
“Still! I don’t want to see him like this!”
“None of us do!”
“Where is Iida?”
“I’m sure he’ll be here in a second.”
Izuku struggles harder, trying to bite at his shoulder.
“Oh no you don’t,” scolds Shouji, strain in his voice as he adjusts his grip.
The door bursts open again, “Move aside!”
Shouji lets go and Izuku brings his hands up again, only to be blocked by a manicured hand.
“Sorry, sweetie.”
His nose fills with a cloying scent and he swoons, vision going blank.
Izuku wakes with cotton shoved in his head, eyes bleary. There are bandages wrapped around his wrist and neck, and he prods them, struggling to remember past the landslide they helped with in the morning.
He fingers the edge of his neck bandage before it all comes rushing back and he shivers, gripping his neck tightly.
“Don’t fuss with that,” a voice says from his right, causing him to jump.
Recovery Girl stands beside his bed, heavy frown on her lips.
“You almost scored deep enough for it to scar,” she says, “Not that I blame you, it turns out one of the civilians you rescued has a permanent-on hallucinogenic quirk. Her glove fell off in the landslide.”
Izuku coughs and grunts at the pain that shoots through his neck at the action.
“She’s okay, though?” He asks, swallowing harshly.
Recovery Girl sighs.
“Better than you.”
Izuku quirks his lip up. His skin feels fine now, no sign of itching or crawling, though the memory sends a shiver down his spine.
“Are you up for seeing your friends? They were very worried. I’ve had an encampment outside the infirmary for as long as you’ve been asleep.”
He winces, thinking about how he lost control. His friends must be freaking out.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
She nods, heading over to the door and poking her head out. Uraraka almost leaps over the poor woman in her haste to get inside, followed by Todoroki, Iida, and Shouji.
“Four at a time,” Recovery Girl hollers, slamming the door almost on Shouji’s heel.
“Deku!” Uraraka cries, throwing her arms around him. The touch feels pleasant, warm. He leans into it, sighing.
“We were so worried about you! Why didn’t you say anything!” Iida scolds from where he’s standing, pushing up his glasses in agitation.
“I-uh, didn’t think it was that bad?”
“You still should’ve said something,” says Todoroki, sitting on the edge of the bed, “Then we would’ve known what was going on.”
Shouji crosses his arms, glaring at Izuku, “And that means you didn’t complete your after-action brief properly. Midnight-sensei was pretty upset.”
“Ah…” Izuku twists the sheets between his fingers, biting his cheek.
“Oh,” Uraraka sighs, “Just trust us next time, okay? We just want to help.”
He nods, leaning into her soft brown hair, “I’ll try.”
Izuku means it this time.