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He doesn’t know why he’s stuck with this class of teenagers. He doesn’t know why all of their faces look sad and forlorn when they look at the empty desk behind the blonde. And he doesn’t know why it all feels so familiar to him.
Let him start from when he first woke up. He woke up in the corner of the classroom, floating high above the desks, while the teacher was explaining something that was on the board. He doesn’t know his name, and he doesn’t know his appearance, but he does know that there’s something about this class that makes him want to watch over them. There’s a feeling in the pit of his stomach that makes him want to stick with this class and watch them grow, even if they don’t know he’s there. He has nowhere to go. He doesn’t remember what his life was when he was alive. If he was ever alive. So he stays in the corner of the classroom, rarely getting closer to the man at the front.
He wants to know. He wants to know what they’re saying and he wants to know who he is. He wants to know why he feels so connected to this class, and he wants to know who he used to be.
The curiosity gets to him after the 5th day of watching the class of teenagers, all with different characteristics and personalities, and he floats to the raven haired man at the front of the room. The man’s voice becomes more clear the closer he gets and the voice sounds less like static and more like he’s underwater. Still not clear, but more so than before.
He tries to tap the man’s shoulder, his hand going through, who he assumes is, the teacher’s shoulder. There’s no reaction from the man either. No knowledge that the other even sensed his presence, so he tries again. And he focuses harder on what the texture of the fabric would feel like under his hand. He touches the fabric, but his hand slips through after not even a second.
Ok. More concentration I guess.
So he squeezes his eyes shut and he focuses. He focuses until he hears a gasp come from the left side of the room, and his eyes shoot open. He locks eyes with the raven haired man, and the man looks like he’s about to cry. He doesn’t know why. Why would this raven haired man be crying over him?
“D̴̦̣͔͒͌͐i̵̹̽ḓ̴̜͖̈̽ ̷̡̧̑͊͝I̴̢̙̯͖̎̂ ̵͔̻̃͗̊d̷̫̅o̶̢̜͉͋̕͜ ̶̩͍̤̐͊̂͘ŝ̸̨o̴͚̺̖͚͐̎͒m̶̯̥̐͝è̷͎̳̋̉͝t̸̠̙̙̽́̅̓h̸̳̍̅̃i̷̡͊̈n̸͎̣͆̓̄g̶̛͎̭͒ ̵͍͚̙̝̈́̽̎t̴̪̪͊̍͘͘o̵̢̖͌͐͒͘ ̵̡͔̲̂̽̂̃ḥ̸̻̝̈́̕ú̶͙̹̜̜̃r̶͓̞̽̏̚t̵̹̦̱̒ ̴̹͑̔̐y̸̺̲͆͌̌̈o̸̙̤̲̤͑̎̋û̴̱̠?̶̨̟̳͖̔” He asks. His voice comes out distorted even to him, so by the way the man, and many others in the room, finch, it must be worse for the living.
Scared that he had hurt the teenagers and man, he lets go of the little concentration he had and assumes he went intangible by their faces.
Chaos erupts in the classroom and he’s so confused. Is it because he’s dead? Is that why they’re all screaming and some are crying and others look like they’re about to cry but don’t want to?
“Problem Child.” The raven haired man whispers to himself, probably not knowing he can hear the other, and looks around himself.
Is he looking for me? Do they know me?
“Who’s problem child…” He whispers to himself, floating back to his safe corner, unaware that the raven haired man had heard him.
~~~~~~
That night when the class is gone and no one is left in the building (he checked), he floats up to the board to try to write an apology for hurting the class. It takes a bit of focus and effort, but he’s able to pick up the chalk and starts writing out a short apology note for them to come back to in the morning.
‘ I’m sorry if I caused you any pain. I didn’t mean to, I promise. I was just curious. I won’t do it again if you don’t like it. I can even leaveー’ He loses focus mid sentence and drops the chalk. He floats back to his corner and waits, not bothering to try again in case the first time was a fluke. He floats there, drifting off into his mental space he goes to during the night since he doesn’t need sleep.
~~~~~~
The class doesn’t come in the next morning and he worries that he scared the class off, so he goes searching to see if any other classes aren’t in the building. When he finds all the rooms empty, he figures that the teenagers don’t have classes that day.
“Lonely.” He whispers to himself, floating in the relative darkness of the classroom. He goes back into his headspace.
~~~~~~
He stays in his headspace until the raven haired man from the other day walks into the classroom and turns on the light. He impulsively decides to watch the man’s reaction and sees tears breach the corners of the man’s eyes. He worries he did something wrong again and shrinks back from where he was, floating next to the man.
“Midoriya?” The man asks, looking around the classroom. He doesn’t want to assume that’s what his name used to be, in case he gets the man’s hopes up, so he doesn’t respond. His head hurts. It hurts. Why does his head hurt when he hears that name? Why why why! The lights above shatter at his breakdown. The room becomes dark and he doesn’t register the man’s voice from the middle of the room trying to calm him down.
“Izuku!” A green haired woman exclaims, holding out her hands. “Come to Mama, Izuku!”
A green haired 2 year old giggles brightly at the woman and waddles over to her. When he plops down into her arms, she lifts him into the air and he squeals. There’s nothing but laughter and happiness filling the small 2 bedroom apartment. To the mother and toddler, everything is right in the world.
Izuku? Is that his name? Izuku? When he whispers it to himself, the name rolling of his tongue is familiar yet foreign. Why can’t he just remember? Why is he stuck here, floating aimlessly above 19 other teenagers’ heads? It’s not fair. He wants to interact with them without them getting scared. Why? Why does this have to happen to him? Did he do something wrong?
“ーoriya.” The raven haired man’s voice pushes itself into his ears. He uncurls from his fetal position to see 20 pairs of eyes all looking at him, ranging from different emotions. Some shock, others sadness, but most of them have tears shining in their eyes. He doesn’t understand. Why can’t he understand?
“Midoriya? Hey, hey. Look at me. Look, you’re ok. You’re safe.” The raven haired man says softly.
He points to himself, still not fully believing his name is Midoriya or Izuku.
“Yes. Yes, Problem Child. Yes, you’re Midoriya Izuku. Do you remember?” The raven haired man asks again, inching forward towards him. He shakes his head, floating backwards towards his corner and grips his hair in his hands. It doesn’t hurt, because why would it when he’s already dead? But it does give him a sort of comfort.
“Izuku…” A two toned boy says, almost like he’s wishing this to be real and not a dream. And then the two toned boy breaks down. Did Izuku (because that’s what they keep calling him) know the boy? Why does it hurt for him to see the boy break down like that. Izuku wants to comfort him, but he’s scared. Scared of hurting the students or being pushed away.
Izuku, overwhelmed with all that was happening, goes intangible and promptly floats all the way into his corner.
“Sorry sorry sorry sorry.” He whispers to himself, gripping at his hair more. If only he could remember.
Shouta watches as his Problem Child becomes intangible and holds back the urge to break down into tears like Todoroki is doing for his lost boyfriend. Shouta had thought their second year would be different. He had thought that they wouldn’t have to fight anymore villains until they actually entered Pro Hero society. But no, they had decided to take an off campus field trip and had gotten attacked by villains trying to climb their way up in villain society. Midoriya had died on the way to the hospital from all the blood loss, and the class hadn’t been the same since. Even 1-B had decidedly left 1-A alone after it. Of course they would, because no decent human being would instigate fights with a class who had just lost a really close friend and partner not even a month ago.
Izuku slowly remembered small details about his life as he continued to float above the students for the next month. He was 17 years old and a second year at UA high. His name was Izuku Midoriya and he had a boyfriend named Shoto Todoroki. They had gotten Shoto’s father arrested for child abuse and endagerment when they were just first years, which was a feat in and of itself. He had a loving mother named Inko Midoriya who was, thankfully, still alive. And he was quirkless. After that memory reveal came all the ones from his preschool days to the first year of highschool. Everything after the first year was a blur, he hoped would smooth out soon.
It did, but only after the second to last time he would be able to reveal himself to his class.
Running, fighting, explosions, fire, yelling, the sounds of battle, but sounded like war. Everything was loud and happening all at once, and like Izuku was known throughout the whole school for, he threw himself into the midst of the battle with the villains. He was able to restrain them all, but not before he got multiple lacerations and bullet wounds to different places on his body. It all hurt, but he pushed through, bringing the villains to the waiting police officers and not collapsing until he knew his boyfriend was safe. He heard yelling as he let the black in the corners of his eyes consume him.
He distantly heard the beeping of machines, and the hurried speaking of people before he felt disconnected.
That was the last thing he remembered before he woke up in the classroom. He knew he couldn’t stay with the class. He knew he wouldn’t be able to graduate with them, and that hurt more than the thought of him already being dead did. He wanted his class to move on and be happy, even if he couldn’t be the reason he was bringing them that happiness. So he revealed himself one last time to say goodbye.
Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he looked at his confused classmates and teacher.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t graduate with you.” He said, focusing on his voice rather than his appearance. “I’m sorry I won’t be there when you graduate either.”
“Problem Childー” Aizawa-sensei started.
Then everyone burst into cries of confusion and grief.
“Midoriya-kunー”
“Izukuー” Ah. Shoto.
“Dekuー”
“Midoriya pleaseー”
“Where will you go?” One question stood out.
“I’m not sure, but I can’t stay here, though I wish I could. This isn’t where I belong and I’m sure you all know that.” Izuku said, slowly floating towards Shoto.
“Please don’t go.” Shoto begged.
“I’m sorry, Shoto.” Izuku said, brushing a cold hand against his boyfriend’s cold cheek. “I’ve always loved you.”
“I know. I know and I can’t live without you.” Shoto said, tears starting to fall from his eyes.
“Live for me then. I won’t be by your side but I’ll still be here.” Izuku said, putting a hand over Shoto’s heart. “I promise.”
“Please.” Shoto pleaded. Izuku’s heart broke to hear his boyfriend like that.
“I have to go.” Izuku said, pulling away from Shoto. “Aizawa-sensei?”
“Yeah Problem Child?” Aizawa-sensei asked, clearly trying to hold back tears.
“You were my favorite teacher. Tell my mom I said ‘Hi’ for me, will ya?” Izuku requested as Aizawa-sensei finally let his tears fall despite his chronic dry eye.
“Deku…” Kaachan whispered.
“I never hated you Kaachan. I always looked up to you. I’m glad I could be a part of your journey.” Izuku said. He proceeded to say his goodbyes to the rest of his crying classmates before letting himself finally go to rest.
“I’ll be watching over you.” He said to no one as his feet landed on warm sand and the warmth from the sun he never thought he’d feel again washed over his skin. “Be great heroes for me, will you?”