Work Text:
The dorm room swelled with thick sobs muffled by a pillow. Moonlight washed in through the balcony doors and allowed shadows to contrast even more ominously than before. The room was still the same room, spattered with All Might memorabilia everywhere possible. Unorganized schoolwork was scattered across the desk along with pens down to their last drop of ink. A notebook was laid on top of the ignored homework, detailing analyses of everyone he could study long enough, including villains. Especially villains. Dirty clothes lined one wall of his room like hedges and the hamper he did have was overflowing. He never bothered to make his bed anymore, simply rolling out of it after hitting snooze a risky amount and often needing to be reminded of the time by Iida knocking at his door. That was his last alarm to pack his bag and go.
Izuku currently curled on top of his nest of blankets and sheets that were the way he left them this morning before class. His pillowcase was soaked with tears and snot that he continued to lay in as more came. He clutched the duvet beneath him until his fingers ached as his chest heaved with more sobs. Memories ran through his head as fresh as the day it happened.
“Plus, it’s gotta be you, Kirishima. It can’t be me. It can’t be Todoroki, or Iida, or Yaoyorozu either... Ever since we entered U.A., you’ve built a relationship with him as equals.”
And that’s how they’d saved Kacchan. Kirishima held out his hand, the only one Kacchan would’ve taken, and locked in the last part to save the day. Izuku wondered if Kirishima hadn’t been there, would their plan have worked? He wrapped an arm around his stomach as more tears slipped down his face and onto the pillow. Everything hurt in a way he had no common remedy for, no bandaid to patch his scratch in the back of his mind.
Kacchan hates me.
All his life, he wanted to be where Kirishima is now. After watching Kacchan not push Kirishima away as much and becoming almost willing to cooperate with him, Izuku knew that Kirishima had gotten through those walls he had been clawing at for years.
With their parents being friends, it seemed like the perfect setup to a life-long friendship. They got along greatly at first playing “Heroes” together, both of them imagining what powers they would have when they came to that age. Kacchan often boasted about how his quirk would be better, but he didn’t deny the idea of Izuku being a hero alongside him that often early on. It wasn’t until sparks flew from the blond one’s palms, lighting up his face as he watched the chemical reactions form, that things took a turn. Kacchan was convinced that no other quirk would be as amazing as his as he used it daily despite getting scolded for doing so. He genuinely didn’t care, even as a kid, and continued making explosions whenever he could. Izuku waited for his quirk to come only to be told he would never have one. Kacchan had overheard their moms speaking to each other about it one night when they were about to leave their play date. Izuku was mortified when he also heard what they were talking about, but it was too late.
Being diagnosed as quirkless carved a hole in his chest and took out what he thought was the one major component to his heroic dream. Somehow, Izuku picked himself up and began crafting a new way to be a hero. He started analyzing heroes his first year of middle school and filled up a notebook almost immediately. After getting his first smartphone in the second year, he could follow the news and catch villains being taken down before and after school. His mother had worried about him running around by himself, but it was the one thing left to feed his dream after everyone around him began beating him down and discouraging him. He didn’t want to remember the explosions that landed on his skin for simply dreaming back then.
Now it was a competition.
Getting All Might’s quirk passed down to him was undoubtedly the greatest event of his life and Izuku wouldn’t trade it for the world. It gave him more purpose, an actual tool to fulfill the hole inside of him and drive his dream forward. However, in terms of his trying relationship with Kacchan, the playing ground was disturbed. He never thought of himself as better than Kacchan, and the bully took every chance to tell him that he wasn’t better than anyone, the lowest of the low. It seemed as though as soon as Izuku unleashed his gifted power he was trying too hard and gloating. It confused Izuku to no end how the switch happened. It all depended on whether or not he had a quirk.
Izuku checked the time and saw it was almost four in the morning. He was lucky that it was not a school night, but he didn’t think he would be getting any sleep anyways. His body twitched with restlessness as he stretched out from the fetal position he’d been locked in. The tears drying on his face itched and he rubbed at them with his sleeve. He decided the best thing would be to go to the student gym which opened soon and tire himself out. It didn’t matter if he slept through the day afterwards; he didn’t want to deal with anything the daylight would bring.
After changing into workout clothes, Izuku crept out of his room with his keys and a water bottle. He wobbled slightly as he approached the stairs. His mind was exhausted but his body was fully awake. The jog to the adjacent gym building brightened him up even more, warming up his muscles from being curled up for so long. The night air flowed in and out of his lungs refreshingly until he entered the lit gym.
Having changed prior to coming, Izuku passed the locker rooms and training rooms to go where the machines and weights were. The jog over gave him the idea to just continue running, and their treadmills were so much better than the one public gym he’d tried before coming to U.A.. He hummed to himself as he pushed open the door and stopped short when he saw someone else already within the room.
The redhead turned to the sound of the door opening and smiled brightly. “Good morning, Midoriya! You’re here early,” Kirishima greeted.
Izuku fumbled with a smile and began walking to the treadmills. “Hey, Kirishima. Just getting the morning started,” he said.
He stepped onto the treadmill next to the wall which faced the windows. In the reflection he watched Kirishima hesitate for a moment before continuing his reps. Izuku clipped the safety chip onto the front of his shirt and set the speed, beginning to walk.
Izuku upped the speed instantly, going from walking to a brisk jog. The rhythm of his feet on the rotating mat gave him something to focus on instead of the other teen in the room. His breathing was even and his lungs didn’t feel overworked. He glanced at Kirishima in the window again and noticed how strong he looked lifting the barbell. His muscles were to strive for.
He increased the speed again.
Izuku was now running as his mind became alert once again. He was no longer lost in the instinctual going through the motions. Perhaps if he went faster he could stop the thoughts of inferiority from entering his mind, but they intruder nonetheless. He knew he was also becoming stronger and more fit, that he could fight as well as the rest of his classmates. He didn’t need Kacchan’s approval to feel that, and yet he did. Besides his friendship, approval was something he’d been wishing for. And Kirishima had it.
He increased the speed again, feeling the burn in his legs finally creeping in. His lungs constricted with the need to breathe and for a second he wondered if the exercise was truly the cause. He questioned using his quirk and quickly threw that thought away; he’d surely break the machine if he did that. The thoughts of inferiority sunk their talons deeper into the forefront of his mind, and he turned the speed up just a few more increments.
Izuku was sprinting as if his life were on the line, chest heaving with each labored breath. He kept his head down and now clutched the bar in front of him which could also calculate heart rate within a minute. His calves burned with each step he took, but the pain was enough to focus on. He’d never considered using exercise so destructively before as his muscles tightened, threatening to cramp. For a moment, his mind was clear and he could feel something else setting in.
The machine began beeping a shrill alarm and stopped the mat from moving, causing Izuku to drop to his knees. It continued beeping when the safety chip unlatched from the treadmill. He opened his eyes to see double in front of him and closed his eyes again.
“Midoriya!” Kirishima exclaimed.
Kirishima hopped over a machine to get to Izuku faster and crouched beside him. He had noticed that his classmate had looked a bit dull when he came in, but he figured that had been from waking up so early. Barely noticeable purple marks underlined Izuku’s eyes, and the boy seemed paler than normal. He didn’t respond to his name being called and also didn’t seem to notice Kirishima beside him yet. Without asking, Kirishima lifted Izuku from the treadmill and set him on one of the weightlifting benches. While being moved, the smaller one had caught his breath.
“What happened, Midoriya? Why were you running so fast?” Kirishima asked and squatted before him.
Izuku let out a deep breath and sighed, “I’m... sorry, Kirishima. I just pushed myself too hard too early in the morning.”
Izuku went to stand and found his legs still wobbly, instantly slamming back down on the padded bench. He winced as tears burned the back of his eyelids, but with a deep breath he could will them away for now.
“You should really take it easy, man. Should we ask Aizawa-sensei if Recovery Girl is up? If he’s even up-“
“No!” Izuku found enough energy in himself to protest. “I wouldn’t want to bother either of them. I’ll just sit here until I can make it back to my dorm.”
Kirishima did not relent, “Are you sure, bro? I could get someone to help me carry you back at least. Or, actually, I bet I could do it! Yeah!” He beamed up at Izuku, unconsciously flexing his arm muscles. “Let me carry you back to your dorm!”
“I-I,” Izuku muttered, holding his hands together to not fidget. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your workout, Kirishima. I was being irresponsible.”
“It wouldn’t be heroic of me to let you go back by yourself when you could collapse again,” Kirishima said.
Izuku met Kirishima’s eyes and lost his guard, finally nodding. The redhead scooped him across his arms figuring it would be the easiest way, and Izuku shifted before conceding to looping his arms around his neck. This allowed himself to be held tighter and he felt more assured about not being dropped. Kirishima kicked open the door of the weight room and did the same to the door of the gym.
They didn’t pass anyone as the golden rays of the sun peeked over the horizon. Kirishima walked steadily on the path to the dorms, tightening his hold when needed along the way. Over the short walk, Izuku’s muscles relaxed and the tiredness he’d been searching for was starting to settle in. He was thankful with it, but he wished it wasn’t in the arms of someone he’s in a one-sided competition with. A competition Kirishima had already won. It was a double-edged sword that he was too tired to truly dwell on and mumbled out the words needed to guide Kirishima to his dorm.
After his keys were snatched out of his pocket, Izuku expected the aid to end there yet ended up being laid on his bed. He cringed at the thought of Kirishima witnessing his depression nest and hoped it was dark enough to not show its full extent. Luckily, Kirishima did not disturb Izuku’s bedding and allowed him to snuggle in as he saw fit.
“Are you sure nothing else is going on?” Kirishima murmured once Izuku’s head was on his pillow.
Izuku nodded sleepily, “‘M sure.”
Kirishima nodded back, accepting the answer for the time being. “Get some rest, Midoriya. I’ll see you later!” he chimed as he headed towards the door. He gave one last smile before he exited with the door closed behind him.
The desired sleep finally set in, and Izuku remained dormant for most of the day.
-
Izuku grunted softly as he rolled off the knot of blankets he’d slept on. The orange sunlight cast through his windows once again, but he knew it was now late in the afternoon. He’d slept the whole day away as he’d wished. Despite the much needed rest, the pain of his all-nighter lingered in his mind. He really wanted to properly apologize for inconveniencing Kirishima yet also didn’t want to see him altogether. It was an irrational reaction, truly, but he couldn’t help but be reminded of his failed attempt at even an acquaintanceship with Kacchan. He was still a target in Kacchan’s eyes, only now as a rival.
His stomach gurgling with hunger was the one motivator for him to get out of bed. Before heading down to the kitchen, Izuku changed out of his sweaty workout clothes and sprayed himself with deodorant. It only made him feel more gross. He opted for the elevator instead of the stairs since his legs still ached from his morning incident. He hoped everyone had already eaten, but as he stepped into the common area about half the class lingered around.
Right. It was a Saturday evening.
Izuku headed straight for the cabinets to make himself an instant ramen. When he reached to grab the cup, he found himself wincing at the throbbing pain in his lower half. He cursed himself silently again for being so careless earlier and put a kettle on the stove. He leaned gently onto the counter beside it as he waited for the water to boil. His eyes were closed, shutting out the people around him for as long as he could. This was the quickest meal he could make; he would be back in his den soon.
A toe lightly kicked his and Izuku’s eyes snapped open. How he hadn’t noticed the one before him in the room prior to this, he didn’t know, but now he regretted not scurrying back to his dorm when he had the chance. Kacchan stood in front of him, a little too close between the counter and the island, and stared intently into his eyes. Izuku broke eye contact once Kacchan spoke.
“Hey, nerd. Was waiting all day for you to get the fuck up,” Kacchan said. Izuku frowned at this, unsure what to make of it until Kacchan held out his water bottle. “You left this in the gym after whatever... thing you had.”
Ah, so Kirishima had told him about that. Why hadn’t he brought the water bottle to him instead?
“Thank you, Kacchan. Sorry I left it behind,” Izuku muttered, finding his slippers more interesting.
The kettle began to whistle and Izuku sprung up to remove it from the burner. He prepared his ramen and turned to see Kacchan still standing there, startling him.
“Ah!”
“Don’t fall like this again, Deku. I need you at your best to really beat you,” Kacchan blurted out. His words seemed to surprise himself as his mouth snapped shut.
Izuku couldn’t help but beam at the roundabout display of concern. He let himself smile and feel it for a moment.
“Of course, Kacchan. I have to be even greater than you!” Izuku grinned.
“Hah? As if,” Kacchan snorted. He turned to walk back towards the dining table where Izuku could see his distinct group of friends (barely) studying. Before he completely walked away, he shot back, “Finish your shit before it gets cold.”
For once, Izuku couldn’t help but wonder if he was focusing too much on the negatives of their trying friendship. He suddenly felt the need to apologize to Kirishima for multiple reasons, many of which he wouldn’t understand. Or he could talk to someone, just had to figure out who.
It was another day’s worry.
