Work Text:
For weeks on end, Izuku has found himself facing a supercharged dose of insomnia. It was constant tossing and turning under the coverings of his bed. One moment he was too warm and the next, he was too cold. That in itself wasn’t really what was keeping Izuku up, however, whenever he spiraled into his thoughts, begging his brain to let him sleep, it’s what prevented him from doing so.
Irritated, he flopped into his pillow, burying his face into the plush material, not knowing what to do from there.
He was a hero, he couldn’t be low on sleep. If he was, then his reactions were delayed, and delayed reactions led to casualties he could’ve prevented if he had just been faster.
If only he had been faster.
Why wasn’t he fast enough? Would he ever get to 100% as All Might did?
He has all these doubts, yet logically, he knows he hasn’t lost anyone yet. He has been fast enough to save whomever he comes across and take down a villain if necessary.
Logically, he knows he’s doing great for a newbie, for any hero, actually. Izuku knows he’s on his way to becoming great, and that’s not him getting an inflated ego. As much as he tries to ignore his success, it’s always thrust in his face by fans and peers alike. He should be happy with what he’s doing, with what he’s achieving. It’s all he’s ever wanted. He can’t be greedy. Before training and getting to this point, he was a quirkless child. During that time, Izuku knew of refusal, and disgust shot his way.
That no longer happens, and now he’s come far from being the weak quirkless boy that people bullied in their spare time. There’s no reason for the person he is now to think about this. He isn’t the same. He’s making a difference in the world. The crime rates are dropping with his class’ arrival to the hero world after All Might retired.
Sleepless nights are common for Izuku now. Even with copious amounts of training and practice, his body still isn’t ready to handle 100% of his power. It frustrates him. He knows he hasn’t come into a fight yet where he did need all 100%, and he’s always been able to come up with a strategic plan for when his strength wasn’t enough.
He’s around 92% percent on a good day, yet this still leaves him with 8%. That 8% haunts him for some reason. He fears that one day he’s going to need that extra 8% but can’t use it, resulting in someone getting hurt, or worse, ending up dead.
His thoughts are riddled with a “what if this happens?” or “what if I’m not worthy of this power?”
It spirals and spirals and gets Izuku to feel more anxious and less inclined to rest.
He realizes it’s the insecurity that he’s facing. Growing up weaker than others and constantly put down has always damaged his view of self-worth. He’s worked on bettering it along with his sense of self-preservation. However, it doesn’t always completely disappear. Right now, his mind is racked with constant questions about his worthiness as a hero. He wonders if he was the right person to hand One For All to.
He tells himself to be like Aizawa, to be logical, and think things like this through. He goes through his accomplishments and ways to improve his work if he feels he’s not doing enough. He tries this thought process time and time again to rid of insomnia. He knows that logic goes a long way. But it doesn’t.
No matter what he does, he continues to think he’s not enough.
He spends many nights scanning the news and his classmates as heroes. He wants to know how they’re doing and what they’re up to. It’s scrolling through the miles of content that he stumbles across an article of himself, titled: Pro Hero Deku: A Non-Outstanding Powerhouse. It doesn’t come across as that detrimental. Not that harsh from many standpoints. There are no claims about being a false or bad hero just… non-outstanding. Plain.
He’s used to the notion, that people think he’s plain-looking. It’s true! He’s not going to deny that. Besides, it’s helpful to blend into a crowd as a rising pro hero. It helps to avoid hungry fans and live life as a normal citizen.
But then Izuku pulls up the whole article and begins to read.
They weren’t being rude, not really. Just pointing out his style and how standard it is. They mention he’s doing well in the charts and how much service and dedication he puts into his job, but declare he isn’t that extraordinary. It doesn’t necessarily bother him. It’s true. He hasn’t faced anything truly odd-defying recently.
He’s just a hero.
It chips away at his confidence. He knows that the media is rough on heroes and that he really shouldn’t be taking any of this to heart. He knows his costume is dedicated to the design that his mother made for him and slightly attributed to All Might, he never did remove the “bunny ears” from his costume. He knows that the support gear he wears isn’t eye-catching either.
It’s fine for him. It’s useful and doesn’t have anything extra that would only serve to slow him down.
He tries and tries to use the most logical explanation to settle his anxieties. It just never works anymore. He’s becoming more and more reliant on coffee. He knows it’s unhealthy for his body and how he feels his smile becoming more forced than he should.
He feels like he’s failing now.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. For Izuku right now, it feels as if a normal night’s sleep has been forever whisked away from him, a child’s dream.
He deals with his sleepless nights by tossing and turning and rearranging his pillows and changing his blankets. None of it ever serves to be enough to lull him to sleep.
When he turns to sleep pills recommended by his doctor, he thinks it’s finally going to turn to normal. He thinks that this newfound sleep is going to be the boost he needs to become the best that he can be.
It doesn’t stop the thoughts. For nights, waiting for the pill to kick in, he lies awake, knowing he isn’t enough. He knows that the demons within his mind are getting the best of him. He wants his thoughts to shut off. He wants to rest from his insecurities. He wants the noise to die down.
In his haste, he takes a few more pills. Just a few. Nothing that would hurt him. Just to keep the edge off and make him fall asleep faster.
It’s fine. He really was fine.
He was going to be enough, eventually. He just needs time. He just needs the noise of the night inside his head to fade away. He’s going to be fine.