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Izuku tried to be understanding. He tried to put himself in others' shoes. He let things go, even when it hurt. The comments Kacchan made when they were kids hurt like hell, but he somehow managed to let them roll off him like oil off of water. But everyone has their limits.
It started with breakfast when Ashido used his homemade seasonings for the girls breakfast without asking him (they often took turns cooking for each other). That was no big deal. She didn't use all of it and he got a little pleasure knowing everyone enjoyed it.
On his way to class, Kacchan shoved past him, nearly knocking his notebook out of his hand. Fine. Izuku should've expected that. His childhood friend always hated being behind the shorter boy.
During lunch, Monoma "accidentally" pushed his plate of food out of his hand and didn't even apologize when it spilled all over the floor. The blond then began berating Izuku for making a mess, watching in amusement while his yearmate cleaned it up and went back to the line for more food.
By the time he got through all of that, the lunch period was over halfway over and all the seats were filled, meaning Izuku could either eat on the floor or find an empty classroom to stay in while he ate as quickly as possible to get as much nutrients as he could before Heroics Class in the afternoon.
The rest of school was fine. Kacchan insulted him. Aizawa told the class to be better, but Izuku felt like he was speaking to him directly.
Izuku was being selfish. He knew this. He was getting upset over nothing. He wasn't about to say he was having a bad day, but he could admit it wasn't a good day. Things could still turn around. Maybe he'd talk about it with All Might during their personal training session after school. That should make him feel better. His mentor always knew the right thing to say and the thought of spending time with him made the rest of the days’ classes bearable.
All Might cancelled two minutes after the final bell rang via a text. Apparently, Detective Tsukauchi needed to talk to him at the police station and he wouldn't get back to campus until after dark. Which was . . . fine .
Absolutely fine.
Why wouldn't it be?
Izuku would just spend the extra time doing his homework. He had a decent amount of it and he was sure reading ahead wouldn't be a problem.
But he didn't feel like running into his classmates and putting on a less than genuine smile. So he went to a wooded area, pulled out his school books from his bright yellow backpack and began working to further his education.
Ten minutes later, a scoff sounded from somewhere to his left. Startled, Izuku looked around to locate the source, eyes falling almost immediately to a group of four who looked about his age. They were all glaring at him, noses turned upwards in disgust. One boy with dark hair, who looked to be the leader, stepped closer and spit.
"Isn't it bad enough that you hero course brats cause trouble for the rest of us? Why do you also have to invade our hangout spot? Don't you have anything better to do than make our lives a living hell?"
Normally, Izuku would apologize for intruding on their space. But he didn't feel like talking and instead just packed up his things and left for his dorm. The day thus far had been exhausting and he wasn't against taking a nap to reset his mind. Aizawa had mentioned several times that it was okay to take time for yourself every now and then. After all, even heroes needed vacation days.
Unfortunately, Izuku’s problems didn’t stop after reaching his home away from home. Mineta had apparently attempted to sneak into the girls’ bath and hide a camera and, once caught, Aizawa had to give them all a lecture on respecting privacy. Izuku knew the reason behind giving the lecture to all of them and not just the little pervert was because some of the other boys could be rather lewd on occasion, though they hid it well enough. But he couldn’t understand why he had to be there. He already knew everything about respecting other people, thanks to his mother raising him to be a decent human being. He respected his female classmates just as much as the male ones. More even! So why did he have to sit through another thirty minutes of his sleep-deprived teacher droning on about something that they all knew was aimed at Mineta?
When it was finally over, Izuku stormed up the stairs and forcefully pushed his door open, letting it bang against the wall before slamming it shut. He didn’t bother locking it, vowing to throw a book at whoever dared enter without permission, and haphazardly let his body flop awkwardly onto his bed.
The next issue he faced reared its head as soon as his head hit the corner of his pillow. Noise . How on Earth had he never realized how loud his classmates were? Was it always that bad? Or were they making more noise than they usually did just to mess with him?
He was able to last all of fifty-eight seconds before it got too much and he pushed himself off the bed and sat on his floor, trying to think of a solution.
All he wanted was a place to rest, and it seemed the entirety of UA was against giving it to him. As far as he could see, there was nowhere for him to go. No one to go to. Nothing to take his mind off it. Even locating a random hero to talk about their quirk seemed like too much work. Izuku felt both crowded and alone.
On campus .
He had a home off-campus too. One with a loving mother who wouldn’t yell at him for having a bad day. That place had been his haven for many years (barring the times his father came home) and he . . . really needed a safe place right then.
So, he decided that that’s where he was going and began packing a few things to stay overnight. Some part of his brain nagged him to ask for permission to leave school grounds first, but if he was being honest, he didn’t. Fucking. Care.
If this got him expelled, so be it.
Going back through the common area just to get his shoes seemed like unnecessary work, so the teen opted to leave through his balcony (which he’d only ever done once before) and head for the front gates with only socks on. He stood in front of the UA barrier for ten minutes, quirk active, wondering if it would activate if he tried to leave and, if it did, would it be fast enough to catch him. He probably would’ve turned back if he thought it would. Maybe. But he pushed on anyway, moving faster than the naked eye could see to get past the threshold and began his march home.
Within twenty seconds of leaving UA’s grounds, he received a text from an unknown number saying he hadn’t been given permission to go anywhere and to please return to campus. Izuku deleted it. A minute later he got another text saying the same thing from the same number. He deleted it and blocked the number.
New number. Same message.
Delete. Block.
New number. New message that sounded a lot like the original message.
Delete. Block. Turn phone on silent.
Phone rings.
Ignore. Check to see if phone is really on silent. It is.
Phone rings again.
Ignore. Turn off phone.
Phone rings for a third time and Izuku hurls it at the nearest tree, smashing it into bits. He has a bittersweet moment because the ringing stopped, but now he was going to have to get a new one again. But he could deal with that later. His phone was the only way to contact him, so without it, he became . . . free. As far as he was aware, no one knew where he was. They couldn’t bother him anymore. He was starting to feel better.
Until his homeroom teacher dropped in front of him with his damned ever-disappointed glower. The man said nothing, crossing his arms over his chest as if he expected Izuku to obey some unspoken order.
The teen glared back at him and growled, “Get out of my way, Eraserhead ,” he spit out the hero moniker like it was an insult.
“Midoriya,” Aizawa said as if the way his student had spoke to him hadn’t bothered him at all. Izuku tried again.
“I said move! ” he yelled. The man blinked, waited for a few seconds, then spoke again.
“Where are you going?” Aizawa’s voice was as monotonous as ever. The way he spoke made it seem as if he’d caught Izuku stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, not running away.
“Why do you care!?”
“I’m your teacher and legal guardian as long as you attend UA. Where are you going?”
“Home,” Izuku grumbled, shoving past his teacher. He got about five paces away when he heard Aizawa sigh and jog over to his student. Izuku braced himself for the capture weapon to wrap around his small body and drag him, kicking and screaming, back to UA.
When Aizawa caught up to him, he didn’t try and stop him with his scarf or his bare hands. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and matched pace with the teen.
“What are you doing?” Izuku asked after a moment. Aizawa looked at him with what could be contempt.
“Coming with you,” was the answer given. Izuku rolled his eyes, grasped his overnight bag more firmly, and continued walking. The two of them moved in silence until they reached the teen’s home where, as they climbed the stairs, Aizawa commented on Izuku’s lack of footwear. Izuku grumbled something unintelligible as he reached his door, picking the spare key up from under the welcome mat and angrily unlocking the door to get inside. He thought about slamming the door in Aizawa’s face but decided against it since it would probably end with him getting yet another lecture. Besides, breaking his phone and yelling at his teacher had left him pretty drained. All he wanted now was to go to his room and take a long nap.
Izuku passed through the entryway without stopping, thanks to his bare feet, abandoned his bag in the middle of the hall, and made a beeline for the kitchen in the hopes that there might be a snack he could grab. While searching through the fridge, he heard the front door close gently, muted shuffling as his teacher removed his shoes, and a soft sigh as something was picked up.
“Where’s your mom?” Aizawa asked from the kitchen doorway.
“Dunno,” Izuku said with a shrug. “Work.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Izuku shrugged again and grabbed a bottle of water, closing the fridge.
“Late, probably. She’s been taking on more shifts since I moved into the dorms.” The teen turned to leave, stopping as soon as he saw how his teacher blocked the doorway with his body. Aizawa wasn’t built, but he wasn’t slim either, and his general aura commanded respect, especially when his quirk was active.
Izuku stared at his teacher, mentally cursing himself for allowing the man to corner him, when Aizawa stepped back and motioned for him to exit the kitchen. Izuku frowned in confusion but accepted the pardon and went over to his room. This time, he had no qualms about throwing the door shut behind him and threw himself onto his bare bed. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to fall asleep.
His door squeaked open in the same gentle way Aizawa had entered his home. Izuku rolled away from the door so the man couldn’t see his face. A couple minutes passed before Aizawa sighed.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“No.”
Aizawa sighed again and Izuku heard his door close, followed by footsteps move further into the room.
“Maybe you should anyway,” the man said as he sat at the foot of his student’s bed. “I hear talking about your problems helps solve them, somehow.”
Izuku growled and shot up into a sitting position, eyes burning into his teacher’s.
“You wanna know what happened!?” he asked, not expecting the soft nod he got as a response. Aizawa’s mellow demeanor was almost enough to tame the teen’s anger, but Izuku wasn’t going to let it go that easily and soon enough he had opened his mouth, everything that had happened that day spilled out. When he was done recounting everything that had happened to him that day, it didn’t seem to be enough reason for him to run away from school the way he did and his mind went through the rest of his week for moments he could use to fuel his fire. Then he recalled the week before and the month and year until, before he knew it, he was yelling at his teacher about how truly awful his life had been up to ten months before he got into UA. He cried about the name-calling, bullying, and general abuse he suffered at the hands of not only his supposed friends and classmates, but his teachers as well as his father. All because he was perceived to be quirkless.
Aizawa listened to his rant with the patience of a saint. He didn’t try to interrupt or tell Izuku how ridiculous or illogical his reaction to it all was. At some point, mind twisted with prolonged anger, Izuku grabbed at the cloth of his pants, fingernails digging into his legs, when Aizawa reached out to grab his hands to stop the boy from inflicting more harm upon himself. In an effort to distract Izuku from his rage, he began rubbing circles into the backs of the boy’s hands while he vented the rest of his story.
By the end of it all, the anger Izuku felt earlier that day had subsided along with his voice and all he was left with was an empty feeling as he stared at the hands that held his.
“Izuku?” The boy barely registered the use of his given name.
“Hmm?”
“Have you told anyone else what you just told me?” Izuku shook his head.
“I-I tried a few times,” he admitted quietly, fighting the tears that had blurred his vision halfway through his rambling. “But they thought I was lying for attention.”
Aizawa hummed, letting go of one of Izuku’s hands so he could pull the boy into a hug. Almost as soon as he was pulled into his teacher’s arms, nose filled with the scent of coffee, Izuku broke down. He grasped the man’s shirt with his free hand as he buried his face into his teacher. All of the emotions he’d been forced to hold back his whole life came ramming into him at full speed, each feeling vying for his attention until he was a sobbing mess, trembling against Aizawa’s chest.
“Feel better?” Aizawa asked when Izuku’s cries had subsided. The teen nodded, tired from all his talking. “Good. Do you still want to stay here tonight?” Another nod. “Alright. I’m going to stay with you until your mom gets home. Then I have to go on patrol. Okay?”
“M‘kay.”
“I’ll be back in the morning with your shoes.”
Izuku closed his eyes once more as a wave of exhaustion pulled him towards unconsciousness. The last thing he heard before sleep took him was Aizawa grumbling under his breath,
“To be honest, if I had to deal with what you did, I would’ve killed someone by now. Maybe multiple someones.”