Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kacchan used to tell him no one could be a hero with a quirk like his. It’s useless for anything except rescue heroics, he would say, and everyone knows that’s the lamest kind, Deku. Be realistic.

He was surprised when Izuku made it to class 1-A. Well, that may be watering it down a little. He sort of exploded his desk when he saw Izuku walking in the door, all trussed up in UA’s coveted uniform.

But Izuku was used to that kind of reaction, so it was easy to laugh it off, to explain to his new classmates that Kacchan was just extra rowdy today, that’s all.

And from there, things got moving quickly. They had a quirk assessment test, and of course he couldn’t do anything showy like Kacchan, but he managed not to come last, and he even made friends with a few people before the day was over.

The first week or so of school passed, and it was nice. 

And then, they take a field trip.

The Unforeseen Simulation Joint, or USJ, sounds like it will be an interesting and informative experience for Izuku, especially considering his interest in rescue heroics. Although Kacchan may think it inferior, Izuku knows that a true hero is someone who saves people with a smile, and he can do that on any track.

“I’m so excited,” Uraraka whispers, practically clinging to his side. “You want to be a rescue hero too, right? Oh, I really hope we can learn something from Thirteen today!”

“I’m excited to learn how to work with all the different terrain here,” says Izuku. “I’m still getting used to my support gear, I just hope I don’t get in anyone’s way…”

“Oh, you’ll be fine, Deku-kun! I promise!”

Aizawa begins explaining the point of the exercises they’ll be partaking in, and Izuku splits his focus between listening and keeping himself from bouncing up and down. Kacchan scowls at him from across the lobby, and he stills a little, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Someone’s excited,” he hears Kaminari whisper, followed by a few quiet snickers. A year ago, he might have been upset by the teasing, but he’s too anxious now to care.

Aizawa has just finished explaining the first of many exercises when a large cloud of black smoke appears behind him. The room goes dead silent before the few pros move between the smoke and the children, readying their quirks and gear to stave off whatever is about to come.

A man steps through, and on his command, the room seems to fill with smoke, clouding Izuku’s vision and making his eyes water. He barely has time to scream before he’s falling into freezing cold water, staring at the domed ceiling of the USJ.

“Ahaha…. Fresh meat…” a voice calls from the water, hungry and eager. He thrashes, gasping against the cold, mind racing against his own panic and fear and confusion. This isn’t part of the exercise, is it? There’s no way, no way they would throw a bunch of first years into combat like this, but why else…?

Something thick wraps around his waist, pulling him through the air and onto the deck of a ship, where he sputters and coughs, expelling freezing water from his lungs. He takes a deep, deliberate breath, and then he can breathe clearly again.

His leg is twisted under him, but he only needs a brief moment to heal that too, focusing his energy as best he can despite his raging panic. What the hell is going on? Who was that man? When he looks over the deck, he sees more of them, an army of what he can only assume are villains here to kill them.

No, stop that. Focus. Let the teachers take care of the villains for now, and focus on your classmates, your friends. There are some on the boat with you, so go make sure they’re okay.

“Deku,” rasps Asui, her arm bent at an odd angle by her side. He rights it for her, and she sighs in relief before stiffening, surveying their surroundings. “We have to get back to sensei. Not even All Might could take on this many villains at once.”

Izuku has to agree. For as much as he idolizes All Might, even the symbol of peace would be no match for an army like this. Of course, he’s not sure how much of a difference he and his classmates can make without any real training, but something is better than nothing, right?

He takes a deep breath.

They have to come up with a plan. They have to go help Aizawa, or he’s going to die.

From there, things are a blur. He and Asui plan their attack, using her innate skill in the water and his ability to heal together to traverse the flood zone. He keeps them breathing under the water far longer than they should be able to, and while it’s tiring, it works. It actually works.

“We have to help Aizawa-sensei,” says Izuku the second they come to shore. Asui shakes her head.

“We can’t just rush in, kero. We put him in more danger that way. If he’s worried about protecting us, he can’t protect himself. We’ll have to wait for an opening.”

Right. But waiting, watching as his new teacher, a real pro hero, fights a hoard of villains hand-to-hand is agonizing. He can’t even shout in support, because that would call attention to him and Asui, which would kind of negate the whole point of their “sit and wait” plan.

But they don’t wait long. One of the villains, their leader, if Izuku is correct, grabs Aizawa from behind, eliciting a cry of pain. The sleeve of his costume begins to disintegrate, and beneath it, his skin hardens and flakes, turning gray and red around the edges.

Iida is already rushing down the edge of the central plaza, and Izuku sees his engines stall at Aizawa’s cry. But if Iida steps in to save Aizawa, who will call for back-up? Without thinking, Izuku takes one step, and then another, and then another, until he’s tacking Aizawa, pulling him out of the villain’s grasp.

“Kid-”

“Iida’s getting help,” he hisses. “I’m not letting you die!”

And with that, he begins repairing Aizawa’s arm, not taking his eyes off of the slowly approaching villain. The other have stalled, waiting for the outcome of this encounter, jeering at Izuku and Aizawa.

“Who’s this, then…? Another player, or another NPC… And look at that, his quirk is like mine…”

He reaches a hand toward Izuku’s face, and Aizawa surges forward, deflecting the blow with his good arm. The man laughs, grasping at Aizawa’s temple instead. He cries in pain, his skin and bone flaking away under the villain’s touch.

Izuku’s vision goes white. Aizawa is dying, dying, and he can’t let that happen, he can’t , so he reaches forward, forcing all of his energy toward keeping him alive, reversing the incredible damage this villain is causing. He doesn’t even think, just does, redirecting his energy like it were second nature. He’s never used it like this, only for short bursts, small injuries. He hasn’t had a chance to train it, to build it.

For a moment, Aizawa begins to heal faster than he is being injured, but Izuku can’t relax. The decay begins to overtake him again, and he feels a tugging in his gut, a rush of energy flowing through him. He feels his power surge, watches as the blood disappears from Aizawa’s skin.

But something crashes over him and he falls to his knees, gasping, grasping at his outstretched arm. His head shoots up, and Aizawa’s bloodshot eyes stare back in horror. He is unable to move, forced by the villain to stand and watch, feel, as he is ripped apart and stitched back together in real time.

“Very impressive, but how long can you keep this up?”

Izuku doesn’t know. He doesn’t know, and that terrifies him, almost excites him. He’s going to push his quirk to its limits, and if he meets those limits, Aizawa-sensei will die. He can’t let that happen. He can’t. So he has to go above and beyond.

Aizawa begins to force his way out of the villain’s hold, and in his periphery, Izuku sees several villains surging forward to restrain him. He grunts as they force him back into place, their leader’s hand grasping his face, tearing him to pieces.

This is a game of endurance. The cards are stacked against him.

Time begins to warp the longer he stays there, kneeling in front of his teacher, pouring his very soul into keeping him alive. He hears Aizawa beg him to stop, that he’s going to exhaust himself, that he should just run, evacuate, wait for the pros.

Then erase it, he thinks traitorously, erase my quirk and let yourself die... but you can't, can you? You won't.

He hears the villains laughing, taunting him, even cheering him on.

They sound impressed. As if they aren’t the ones forcing him to do this. Aizawa is right, though. He can already feel the exhaustion weighing him down, forcing him to keel over, even as he keeps his arm outstretched, raised toward Aizawa. He can hardly breathe, but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter as long as he can do this, wait for the pros to arrive.

He can do this. He has to do this.

After some time, or maybe no time at all, it worsens. The exhaustion is replaced by numbness, then pain, raging all throughout him with no end. Maybe he’s being ripped apart too, now, but he can’t muster the energy to look up, to see. He is tense, too tense to move. His arm is locked in position, a catalyst for the transference of energy that he hopes is still keeping Aizawa alive. Yes, he can feel it, just on the edge of his consciousness. Aizawa is still alive. Izuku is doing well.

You can stop any time, he hears someone say. Little guy is seriously dedicated. He’s not giving up, is he? He’s insane. We could use someone like him. Imagine if he were working for us…

He thinks, distantly, that he might be sobbing. He’s shuddering, shaking, even as his limbs are locked in place. There is no energy left to move, not even to breathe. Aizawa is worsening. He can feel it, as his power starts to taper. The villains are laughing, jeering. He screams. He can’t do this. He has to do this. He can’t do this.

And then he loses the thread.

The connection fizzles, shorts out. Before he opens his eyes, he can tell that Aizawa is gone. The villains begin to cry out, some laughing, some lamenting the end of their game.

Aizawa is dead.

The truth hits him like a truck, and he collapses, falling into a heap on the ground. He struggles to breathe, feeling drained to his very core. His chest is tight, heavy, and the world is too bright, too strong, too loud.

“Come on, little guy…”

“I really expected him to last longer than that.”

“With a little more training, he’d be pretty formidable, huh?”

Just a little more. If he could have just given a little more, gone above and beyond, genuinely broken his limits…

If he could have just gone Plus Ultra.

There’s a heavy thud to his left. Moving his head takes monumental effort, but he does so anyway. Aizawa’s body has been thrown to the ground next to him, black hair slick with blood. His face is pale, cracked at the edges, lifeless.

Dead. He’s dead.

And it’s Izuku’s fault.

His fault.

He doesn’t know where it comes from. Something within him snaps, and his eyes shoot open, his heart begins to beat faster. He can breathe again, move again. His bones become lighter, and his will heavier.

“What the hell…?”

He stands. The villains do not stop him as he limps forward, bridging the gap between him and Aizawa. Even their leader watches with unconcealed interest, his head tilted to the side so he can scratch at his neck.

He leans down and places a gentle hand on Aizawa’s skin, still warm.

And then he pulls. There’s a deep rumbling in his ears, the sense of something being very, very wrong, and then stillness. It’s like the world around them has paused, leaving only him and Aizawa. He collapses. Aizawa’s eyes blink open.

His wounds seal. The blood disappears from his skin, and the bags under his eyes lighten. He stands taller than before, moves faster. He doesn’t wait to strike at the villains, keeping them far from Izuku’s limp body.

For a moment, Izuku wonders what this might look like to him. He can’t move, can’t breathe, and his eyes have slipped closed… He strains to listen, to know that Aizawa is okay, but there is so much commotion, so much yelling and fighting and screaming. He can’t begin to process it all.

“Midoriya,” someone gasps, pressing a hand to his face, then to his wrist. “Midoriya, thank god, stay with me, you’re going to be okay-”

“Sensei, he’s not breathing!”

“There are ambulances outside! I’ll finish off these villains, Eraserhead, you take care of the kids!”

He’s being scooped into someone’s arms, warm and strong. He relaxes, ever so slightly, and is met with a flurry of swearing and another check to his pulse. “Come on, kid, come on…”

Someone slips a mask over his face, and he takes a big, deep breath of cold air. He wants to open his eyes. He has to… he has to see that Aizawa is okay. But his eyes won’t open, and his limbs won’t respond. He wants to cry out, but he is so exhausted, so deeply tired, that he cannot even move.

He drifts off to sleep to the sound of sirens and the feeling of someone squeezing his hand.

Chapter Text

Waking up is strange, given that he doesn’t remember falling asleep.

It’s like he’s just suddenly burst into being, with no memory of where he was before, or why he’s here now.

His eyes flutter open to a colorful room. There are rabbits and foxes painted on the walls, and a stack of cards on the bedside table. Even the IV stand is decked out in cutesy stickers. Sun filters through white curtains, falling across his bed in wobbly rectangles.

It feels wrong, somehow, to be awake. He’s not quite all the way there, he thinks, which might be part of it. He feels too light, floaty. Like he’s dreaming of being awake.

He hits the nurse call button, and when he blinks, it’s night. The window is ajar, propped open by a small wooden block. There are fresh flowers on the table, and a steaming bowl of katsudon.

He still feels fuzzy inside, but less flighty than a moment ago. It must have been hours, really, but it feels like no time has passed at all.

“Midoriya-kun?” there’s a nurse peeking through the door, holding a bag of fluids. She offers a soft smile while she adjusts his IV and replaces the bag, then stalls by his bedside. “I’m going to go let your doctors know you’re awake, alright sweetheart?”

He nods. He tries to stay awake until they get there, but when he opens his eyes again, the room is almost completely dark. The katsudon is gone from his bedside, and in its place is a doctor’s note he can’t read in the light.

Izuku tries to turn over, but can’t muster the energy. It’s like he’s awake, but only on the surface. The rest of his body is still in a deep slumber, leaving him trapped in it, unable to move.

It’s familiar, and scary. It’s hard to remember why. There was something very, very bad, and then… that’s why he’s in here, but he can’t quite…

He wakes again the next day to soft chatter. There are people in the corner of the room, doctors, his mother, and… Aizawa.

That’s why he’s here. He saved Aizawa-sensei, and used up all of his own energy doing so. Does Aizawa know he’s okay? He tries to say something, but it catches in his throat, and he just sort of gurgles. Still, it draws the desired attention, and the small group rushes over to him.

Except for Aizawa. He lingers in the corner for a moment, watching as Inko dotes on Izuku, crying and babbling and smothering him in affection. The doctors try to speak to him, but he can’t quite get words out, and even if he could, there’s only one person he wants to speak to.

“Ai…zz….”

Aizawa-sensei finally walks over. He has his hands shoved in his front pockets, his lips set in a grim line. 

“Y’u… kay…?”

He flinches. Aizawa actually flinches, stumbling slightly. Inko looks over at him, eyes wide, curious.

“I’m fine, Midoriya-kun. We’ve been more worried about you, really.”

He groans. Why? He’s fine, he always is. It’s Aizawa they should have been worrying about. He’s the one who…

As if reading his mind, Aizawa shakes his head. “I’m fine, kid. That’s a whole other can of worms besides.”

“B…”

“Save your strength for now, Midoriya-kun,” says one of the doctors. “You need more rest.”

He squirms, trying to shake his head. The movement doesn’t come out quite right; he jerks his neck to the side and whines. Inko strokes his hair, whispering assurances.

“You’ll be staying in the hospital for another few days,” Aizawa says. “I’ll have one of your classmates bring you any work you need to make up, but obviously, deadlines are negotiable for the time being. Focus on resting and building your strength. We’ll talk when you get back to class.”

And then he turns on his heel and leaves. Izuku wonders for a moment if he’s trying to protect the both of them, or just spare the awkwardness.

The week passes slowly. Inko helps him read through the cards on the bedside table, all from different members of his class. Even Kacchan has left him one, slightly bent and scratched, but Izuku loves it all the same. There’s one from the UA faculty as well, signed by every pro hero that currently works at the school. That one is going in a protective case for the rest of time.

As soon as he’s allowed to eat solid foods, he tears into a bowl of katsudon. Inko has to help him hold his chopsticks steady, but he can at least lift everything without trembling. It only takes another few days before he has the energy to walk again, and another day after that until he’s ready to go back to school.

Inko walks him to the gates, giving him a big hug before releasing him and heading off to work.

“I’m so proud of you, Izuku,” she says, holding back a sob. “Oh, my baby…!”

He gives her a watery smile, then makes his way to Class 1-A. He tries not the acknowledge the staring, the whispering from his fellow students along the way. He holds his head high and walks like he’s okay.

“Deku!” Uraraka screeches for him when he walks through the door, tackling him with a bear hug. “Oh my gosh, how are you? Did you get my card? I hope you’re feeling better, you scared us all so much!”

“I’m alright now,” he laughs, “I promise. I didn’t mean to scare you all, really.”

“You need to be more careful in the future,” she says. “Oh my gosh, that reminds me! We’re already training for the sports festival, and Aizawa-sensei said I could tutor you! Only if you want, of course, I didn’t mean-”

“I would love that,” he squeaks. “Um. W-where is Aizawa, anyway?”

She points a finger to the front of the classroom, where a bright yellow lump sits on the floor just behind the podium. “He’s trying to sleep, I think.”

Izuku takes a deep breathe, thanks Uraraka, and marches up to Aizawa.

“Aizawa-sensei,” he greets, cringing at the awkwardness.

“Midoriya,” he returns, turning over so his face is visible where it peaks out of the sleeping bag. “Let’s get something out of the way: what you did at the USJ was foolish, reckless, and if you ever do something like that again, I will not hesitate ot expel you.”

“O-oh.”

“But you also saved my life. Thank you for that. I’m proud of you, kid.”

“But, don’t ever do that again…?”

“But don’t ever do that again,” he repeats. “Or at least, don’t go that far. You’ve only just begun your training as a hero, and you have a long way to go. You’re even behind your classmates now, so I expect to see you working hard to catch up.”

“Yes, sensei!”

“And… If you need help, let me know. That’s what I’m here for.”

Izuku smiles. “Yes, sensei.”