Work Text:
Izuku had faced many things, in his life. He had endured a lonely, alienated childhood. He had conquered nearly unsurmountable odds to follow his dreams. He had made it through not one, but two villain encounters. He had survived his mother’s nearly lethal amount of smothering and coddling over the last few days.
But he did not think he could face this.
The door to class 1-A loomed over him, imposing. Izuku was reminded, rather forcefully, of his very first day and the stare down he’d had with the door then. In some ways, he tried to convince himself, it had been more terrifying then. No one had yet known he was quirkless, apart from Kacchan and Mr. Aizawa; now the whole class knew and, for the most part, had accepted it. Some even knew he was an omega, and they hadn’t treated him much differently.
Then, he’d had no one, really, except for his mother. Now, he had Uraraka and Tsuyu. Mr. Aizawa. Iida and Todoroki. He even had Hawks’ number, never once used, sitting ready and waiting in his phone. All of them supportive and kind, uncaring about his secondary gender and his quirk status.
Still, knowing that didn’t make the urge to flee back down the hall and try again the next day any less appealing.
He had been scouring the media hourly, ever since he had woken up again in the hospital to his mother’s and the Iidas’ frantic voices days ago. He’d spent hours on his phone checking and rechecking as nurses and doctors had come and gone, pausing only to speak to the police – a supervised, surface-level interview carried out under the watchful eye of his mother, Iida’s parents and a stone-faced Endeavor who had appeared alongside the police hours after every other parent, much to Todoroki’s obvious displeasure – and to say goodbye to Todoroki when the other boy had been discharged and then to Iida when Izuku had been.
The attack on Hosu had been splattered everywhere, the talk of every news channel, the front- page article of every newspaper, and the number one trending topic of every single social media site and Hero forum. Stain’s capture had been a distant second – both due to the magnitude of the Hosu attack and for the fact that Chief Tsuragamae had kept his word. Little was officially known about the capture other than that it had happened the night of the attack and it had resulted in a destroyed back alley and a severely injured Chizome Akaguro, the real name of the Hero Killer. A single grainy photograph, a screenshot from a news helicopter, had briefly been leaked, revealing the involvement of several teenaged children – too far away to be identified – and several heroes, including the number three.
The picture had been pulled nearly as quickly as it had shown up, but it hadn’t taken long for Izuku’s name to crop up, as Hawks’ intern, nor Todoroki’s or Iida’s. Izuku’s phone had been bombarded by friends and strangers alike, all clamoring to know about his health or if he’d really been involved, if he knew what happened, if he’d be willing to interview. It had taken only a single message to Mr. Aizawa for all but his classmates’ messages to stop and his name to be scrubbed clean from every aspect of the case. An unfortunate coincidence, it had been called, that three UA students had been caught up and injured in the Hosu attack not far from Stain’s last stand, but nothing more, according to the calm-faced chief of police who had never once endeavored to deceive the general population. Allegedly.
No mention of anything apart from Izuku’s name had popped up, from what he had been able to see. Nothing at all about a police officer with a remarkable story, nothing about his quirk or gender. Any speculation about him that had been garnered from him being Hawks’ intern had been quickly dwarfed by the news of the attack; and none of it had resurfaced throughout the subsequent aftermath. But Izuku hadn’t been able to watch the news 24/7, not with his mother insisting he rest and the healing of his injuries – alleviated and quickened by healing quirks and medicine – sapping most of his strength over the last few days, and who knew what had cropped up and been summarily removed.
The media worked hard but Principal Nezu worked harder. If anything had come up, it would have been removed within minutes at most. But who knew how many people would have been able to read it, in those precious few minutes. A threat of lawsuit would make any credible source work fast, and the flat-out deletion of anything from less credible sites would work even quicker, but neither of those options could erase the information from the mind of anyone who read it. Someone could know something and Izuku would have no idea.
He could – and did – hold onto the hope that Mr. Aizawa or someone else from the school would contact him about any leaks, but he didn’t know when they would. He liked to think they would have told him immediately but what if they had wanted him to rest and decided to wait until the internships were over and Izuku was back in school? He could be walking into the classroom to a note, he could be called over the intercom.
There could, of course, be no news at all and he was worrying himself over nothing. Izuku just didn’t know. And the uncertainty was eating away at any courage he still possessed.
The only way to know was to open the door. Izuku placed his hand gently on the door handle. The metal was cool under his fingers. The door was well-maintained, it would take only a gentle push to open it. Just a twitch, really.
Izuku remained frozen for a moment longer, before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to push the handle before quickly removing his hand, forcing himself to let go of the possibility of halting the sudden swing inward.
It was quiet – blissfully quiet – in the room and Izuku took another deep, steadying breath before poking his head in.
He had come early, too full of anxious energy to stay at home for even a second longer – he loved his mother but she really had been a bit much, especially with her assurances that a single missed day wouldn’t hurt and Izuku should just stay home, rest one more day. Only Iida and Yaoyorozu had arrived before him; both their heads had swiveled up at the sound of the door opening. Yaoyorozu’s face looked very much like she wanted to say something – undoubtedly, she had heard he’d been in Hosu – but she was too polite to bombard Izuku and accepted his small wave and smile with only a trailing gaze as Izuku beelined for Iida.
Iida looked far better than he had in the hospital – like Izuku, all of his bandages were gone, as were all the visible bruises, scrapes, and cuts. Izuku found his eyes briefly drifting to his arm, where the worst of the damage had been, but if Iida was still in pain from it, he gave nothing away. Nerve damage, Izuku had heard from the nurses back at the hospital, but that didn’t seem to be slowing his friend down in the slightest. Izuku was glad of that, at least.
“Midoriya! Good morning!” Iida’s greeting was exuberant as ever, accompanied by a chop of his hand, and Izuku found himself relaxing a little. Iida was acting normal – his pre-Stain normal, even, as friendly and formal and warm as he had been before his brother’s attack – and if his friend could do so after everything that had happened, so could Izuku.
They could handle this. Izuku could handle this.
“Good morning, Iida.” He greeted. Normally he would beeline to his seat first, but that would bring him closer to Yaoyorozu and her barely hidden concerned glances and he wasn’t quite ready for that. So he set his bag down on the desk next to Iida – he would move it once Koda came in – and stood before his friend. “How was the rest of your internship?” How were you healing, he meant, but couldn’t outright ask. The police may have agreed to keep the nature of Stain’s capture out of the press but that was conditional at best. If Izuku started publicly speaking about it, he could get them all in a massive heap of trouble, both legal and public. Even with only Yaoyorozu in the room, it wasn’t worth the risk.
Izuku, of course, already knew how Iida had spent the rest of his internship – they had gone back to texting each other regularly now that Iida wasn’t secretly plotting murder. It had started with a request from Iida to both him and Todoroki, asking them to message him when they got home safe, and it hadn’t stopped yet. Todoroki was a rare responder, not used to actually replying to anything, but Iida had been punctual and thorough in all his responses.
“Unadventurous!” Iida answered candidly. If he was confused as to why Izuku had asked a question he already knew the answer to, he didn’t let it show. He, too, knew the precarious position they held. “I was unsuited for any physical work, so the rest of my internship was transferred to the family agency, Mother taught me about paperwork.” Iida’s answer was innocuous enough, they couldn’t exactly deny that they had been hurt in Hosu anyway, but Izuku shot a slightly wary look at the other side of the classroom. Yaoyorozu was doing her best impression of not listening, seemingly enthralled in the book she had propped on top of her class notes, but Izuku could see the slight strain on her face, as though she was fighting with herself to not give in to her concern and risk impropriety.
Izuku knew questions would come anyway, and he didn’t like the idea of pretending to ignore Yaoyorozu when she was sitting in the same room as him. It would be better to open the door to a few questions at a time, rather than everyone at once, anyway. “And yours, Yaoyorozu? How was your internship?”
The girl in questioned startled, just a little, at being addressed but the way she looked up quickly, a tad guiltily, told Izuku that she had indeed been listening in. “Oh! My internship?”
“Yes,” Izuku offered a smile. “It was with Uwabami, right? How did it go?”
Yaoyorozu flushed a little bit, her face scrunching with discomfort before she remembered herself and carefully relaxed her expression into a polite, rehearsed smile. “It was very – informative. I did not fully realize how big a role publicity would play in my future career until Uwabami showed me and Kendo.” Yaoyorozu’s voice was carefully diplomatic, but Izuku had seen the kind of publicity Uwabami favored. He didn’t think it would have been a good fit for Yaoyorozu’s personality or the type of hero she wanted to be – or Kendo’s for that matter, but he didn’t know enough about the alpha girl in 1-B to be certain. But Yaoyorozu didn’t look like she wanted to talk about it and Izuku didn’t know her well enough to press.
“How –“ Yaoyorozu caught herself before her curiosity caused her to overstep, but there was a hesitant curiosity in her eyes. Izuku took a deep breath and then plunged in.
“Mine was pretty hectic.” It was a simple, neutral phrase. And an invitation that his classmate wouldn’t give to herself.
Yaoyorozu seized the opportunity with grace. “I heard – something, about it. You were caught up in the Hosu attack?” Still carefully polite, cautious. Izuku was glad she was the first classmate outside of who had been with him that he spoke to about it.
“Yeah, ended up in the hospital with Todoroki and Iida and had to leave early. Hawks was really nice about it though and the doctors got us all fixed up!” He smiled, a little sheepishly, and breathed an inner sigh of relief as Yaoyorozu’s face fully relaxed.
“I am glad to hear that you all are okay! I hope you learned something helpful before –“ She couldn’t quite bring herself to finish the sentence but Izuku didn’t mind.
“Yeah! Hawks taught me some about publicity too, but I don’t think it was quite the same as Uwabami’s lessons.” Yaoyorozu – thankfully – let out a soft laugh at that, her face fully relaxed.
“I imagine it is quite different. What about you, Iida? Did you learn anything helpful from – Manual, wasn’t it?” Yaoyorozu addressed her question just over Izuku’s shoulder and Izuku glanced back. Iida had, of course, been listening, although too polite to interrupt, but at Yaoyorozu’s invitation, he launched into an explanation of all the helpful things he had learned about paperwork, proper protocol – Izuku had to bite back an inappropriate smile at that one – and other proceedings from both Manual and his parents.
It was nice, comforting, familiar. Izuku actually did like Yaoyorozu – she was calmer than almost any other alpha he’d met, and always unflappably polite. She’d never underestimated him for being quirkless, and had never treated him any different. He didn’t get to speak to her as often as he’d like, but maybe that would change with the internships over. He should invite her to eat lunch with them; Todoroki would probably appreciate another quiet person at the table to offset everyone else’s liveliness. Perhaps now, while everything was quiet and peaceful before –
The door opened with a bang and the peace was shattered.
Izuku had turned immediately at the sound, body tense as though expecting an attack even though he knew logically no one would have been able to get into the school without at least setting off the alarm.
The bizarre sight in front of him didn’t ease his worries at all.
Kaminari, who toyed the line between right on time and tardy nearly every day, was standing in the doorway, looking frazzled even as he tried to school his face into its usual bright and carefree grin. Behind him stood Sero, who was looking uncharacteristically stony-faced. One of his arms was outstretched, tape flung out from his elbow as he dragged in –
Mineta, who looked positively gleeful even underneath the several layers of tape that wrapped around his head, preventing him from opening his mouth. Izuku couldn’t say he’d never seen the beta boy like this before – he didn’t make a habit of hanging out with his smallest classmate, if he could help it because the comments he’d heard from the boy’s mouth about the girls in their class echoed too closely to the types of comments he’d hear at Aldera; and besides, he made Uraraka and Tsu uncomfortable and Izuku wouldn’t subject his friends to people who made them uneasy - still, Sero was one of the few people who could and would use his quirk to drag the other boy back into form when he’d crossed the line without resorting to outright physical violence, and it was a common enough sight to see the tiny boy trussed up in layers of tape. But that was usually accompanied by one of their female classmates, either red-faced or furious-looking because of some comment – or sometimes, Izuku was almost positive but had never actually seen to confirm, hands that had become a little too wandering. The only girl in the room was Momo, who looked puzzled, and no one else seemed to be coming into the room after the trio of beta boys.
That was red flag number one. The second was the way Mineta’s eyes seemed to brighten with a malicious gleam the moment they met Izuku’s. Mineta barely talked to Izuku – he barely even looked at Izuku, not that he would ever complain about that – so there was no reason, no reason at all for him to look so happy at seeing him.
Red flag number three was how Kaminari – upon seeing Izuku – dropped his attempted grin for a face that looked far more guilty than anything else.
Kaminari, who was always perfectly friendly to Izuku apart from a few well-intended but misinformed comments about quirklessness, had no reason to look guilty. No reason at all. Unless –
No. Kaminari was a social media fiend, but he was obsessed with mainstream sites, the types of feeds that everyone saw. If there had been anything leaked online at all, the only places it would have been up long enough for someone to see would have been the dingey, borderline illegal back-alley type of sites, a far cry from even the most disreputable gossip twitters Kaminari and Mina always seemed to gush over. Kaminari certainly wouldn’t have stumbled over anything, not on his own.
He was just reading too much into things. Kaminari’s guilty face was probably just worry – Izuku had been involved in an attack, any of his classmates would be worried about that. Except probably Kacchan. That’s all it was. Kaminari was worried, Sero was just mad at something Mineta did and Mineta was probably happy because he thinks Izuku or maybe Iida might save him. That was all.
Izuku plastered a smile on his face, determined to believe nothing was amiss despite the tendrils of unease curling in his stomach. “Hey guys! We were just talking about our internships. How were yours?” Carefully polite, perhaps a tad too cheerful. Izuku was well known for being friendly, but he was still a tad quiet when it came to some of the classmates he was less familiar with, particularly the male ones.
“Hey Midoriya!” Sero’s cheer sounded forced, even as the other boy tried for a grin. “Mine was good! I learned a lot!” He answered, his voice just slightly stilted from his usual laidback cheer. Behind him, Mineta dropped to the floor with a resounding crash as Sero not-so gently loosened his hold in order to firmly elbow Kaminari.
“Oh yeah!” Kaminari seemed to shake whatever was bothering him out and grinned at Izuku in his more usual fashion. “Mine was really cool, not as eventful as yours and Iida’s though!” His voice was a little too high and his grin a shade too large to be real. He was worried, worried and curious, that was all. That had to be all.
“Dude!” Sero hissed and another elbow – sharper and heavier than a nonquirked elbow – made its way back into Kaminari’s stomach. Mineta jostled on the ground as the impact scooted him across the floor and his protesting whine was loud in the brief, awkward silence.
“Ah, right, sorry! That wasn’t cool – I didn’t mean to, y’know, bring up bad memories.” Kaminari said as he rubbed his stomach ruefully. Izuku tried for another smile.
“It’s okay! Really, I’m sure people have lots of questions about Hosu.” He turned slightly towards Iida, silently begging for some help as the conversation floundered.
Iida’s eyes briefly met his before jumping into the conversation. “Truly! It would be foolish of us to not believe you all might have questions, especially as the League of Villains was involved.”
“Uh-huh, yeah. It came on the news while I was on break.” Sero’s voice was back to its normal casualness and Izuku felt a tinge of relief. It was just worry, after all. “It looked pretty crazy.”
“Absolutely terrifying more like,” Kaminari’s voice had also taken on its more usual excitement. “And the hero killer on top of it all? Wild!”
This was familiar, albeit unpleasant territory. Kaminari was naturally curious, and both him and Sero were good guys. Of course, they were interested in what had happened. Izuku shared another brief look towards Iida. As long as they were careful with this conversation, it would be alright. Momo had been a good person to open the conversation with, but Kaminari and Sero would be the true test to see how well they could sate their classmates’ curiosities without revealing too much.
Before Izuku or Iida could figure out a response that wouldn’t get them right back into the legal hot water, however, Mineta sat up.
When he had managed to free himself from the tape enough that he could move and – more importantly – free his mouth, Izuku couldn’t say. But the smirk that stretched his reddened lips sent all of Izuku’s worries back up. “That’s not even the wildest thing, and you guys know it.” There was an all-too knowing tone to his voice and his eyes were filled with a malicious glee that Izuku had only seen associated with some perverted triumph of the smaller man.
“Dude, shut up!” Sero’s voice was a hiss of anger and Mineta quickly darted out of the way before more tape could wrap itself around him.
“Oh, come on! You’re wondering about it just as much as I am!” There was laughter in his voice and Izuku desperately wanted to disappear. This wasn’t good, this very much wasn’t good.
He didn’t know, he couldn’t know.
But he sure looked knowing as his eyes fell back briefly towards Izuku before darting towards Kaminari.
“Right, Kaminari? You’re dying to ask just as much as me!”
Kaminari let out a nervous laugh as everyone’s eyes fell onto him. “C’mon man, just let it go.” He urged his friend, voice trying and failing to sound casual as his gaze seemed involuntarily drawn to Izuku before shifting away almost instantly.
Kaminari wouldn’t find himself on the sort of dark, dingy sites that would have gleefully posted any salacious rumor about UA, regardless of legality or verifiability, and kept it up until some mysterious entity erased it from existence, but Mineta absolutely would. If anyone in the class could discover a site that posted rumors about Izuku, it was Mineta.
Izuku felt like he couldn’t breathe, his chest tight and constricting, as Mineta’s gaze once more fell onto him, looking viciously victorious as he began to speak. His voice was faint to Izuku’s ears, compared to the roaring of blood that pounded in his ears, but still shatteringly, devastatingly clear.
“You an omega, Midoriya? Is that why you don’t hang out with the guys or look at the babes in our class? That’s what the online sites are saying. Some people saw you take those kids out of the hotel, said you growled at a police officer before running off. Just a little omega playing hero until he gets knocked up like all omegas –“ Mineta had been darting away from Sero’s tape as he spoke, his voice gleeful and malicious, each word a hammer against Izuku’s heart, but he hadn’t been observant or quick enough to avoid the hand from shooting out behind him and roughly pulling him off his feet.
Izuku had been staring at the ground, watching everything through his periphery, too focused on keeping himself on his feet and his breathe even as it felt like the walls were pressing in on him, but they darted up at the voice that spoke next.
“The hell are you saying?” Kacchan had arrived, early as usual, and undoubtedly pissed that so many people had beat him to the classroom. Izuku watched with wide, disbelieving eyes as Kacchan gave the smaller boy a vicious shake. “Go on, say that shit about omegas again, I dare you.” Mineta squeaked in response his face terrified. Kacchan looked disgusted as he threw the boy unceremoniously back to the ground and turned his gaze towards Sero and Kaminari. “You two got something to add, eh? Think that same shit about omegas?” He made no mention of Izuku, didn’t even look at him, as he searched the two other boy’s faces for another moment before seeming satisfying. “Good. That shit’s ridiculous. Omegas and betas aren’t that damn different and Deku’s not weak because he’s not an alpha. He’s weak because he’s Deku.” And with that odd – defense? Insult? Izuku wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be – Kacchan dismissed the group as a whole and stalked to his desk.
It was only moments after that his specific wording – that Izuku wasn’t an alpha rather than confirming that Izuku was an omega – caught up and a wave of gratitude, unbidden and surprising, rose up in Izuku.
Kacchan may hate him, but at least he wasn’t willing to spread anymore of Izuku’s personal business around for the whole class to hear. Kacchan might have his faults, but there were still lines he wouldn’t cross and Izuku felt a rash bit of thankfulness he would never be able to verbally express. At least not without a blast to the face threatening to singe his eyebrows off.
Mineta was a huddled pile on the floor, his face slack-jawed and terrified looking. Izuku tried, momentarily, to find some sense of guilt or concern for the other boy, but it was hard to find compassion over the rushing beat of his own erratic heart and the fear roaring in his ears.
Kacchan had brutally and efficiently put an end to the conversation for now, but it had still been said. Now that Kacchan had made his way to his own desk, Izuku couldn’t bring himself to look up from Mineta’s terror, couldn’t bring himself to look at Sero or Kaminari who were standing beside him. The silence was deafening, stretching taut between all of the students. Iida was at Izuku’s side, Izuku could feel him hovering, feel the warmth of his friend’s body, close and supportive in all ways he could be. But he wouldn’t speak. It was the hospital room all over again, Iida would not destroy Izuku’s confidence in him to raise a defense he didn’t know if Izuku wanted.
But was there anyway to contain this? Mineta might be afraid of Kacchan, but that fear never lasted long. Any punishment Mineta had ever received from his fellow classmates for his behavior had always been eclipsed by his desires to do whatever he wanted. And if Mineta had found something, there was every possibility other students had too. Other people. What if Mineta or someone else got more curious, needed more than their basic curiosity sated?
Izuku had no doubts his friends at UA would keep his confidence and Kacchan seemed little interested in talking about Izuku’s secondary sex, but how many of his old classmates would jump at the chance of revealing everything? How many of the people back in his neighborhood, at his mother’s work, who knew him as sweet Izuku, Inko’s little omega son, would naively confirm everything?
Izuku hadn’t even thought to be worried about his old classmates or his neighbors, he had never thought he would be such a big deal, such a possible sensation that people would look into it, but it was only a matter of time. UA and Hawks – even the commission, with all their sketchy paperwork and untrustworthy ways – were doing their work to keep Izuku’s information quiet but it had already failed once, obviously.
If Izuku kept denying it, would be deemed a liar? Untrustworthy?
He didn’t know, he didn’t know. He had been promised this wouldn’t happen. He wasn’t ready for this to happen. Even though he knew it could happen, part of him had been clinging to the idea that Principal Nezu would keep it all from actually happening. It was too soon. Too soon. Too soon. Too –
“Hey Midoriya -” Izuku didn’t recognize the voice, it was too far away, muffed.
“Midoriya – Midoriya, hey –“ Another voice. Words were being said after his name, Izuku could tell, but he couldn’t make out what or who it was. They sounded angry, aggressive to his distant ears.
“Midoriya –“ A hand landed on his elbow, large and hot. Threatening. It was too late, they were mad at him, they knew he had been lying, thought him an pretender, an imposter, like Mineta had proclaimed. Izuku had never thought any of his classmates would hurt him, but he had pushed them too far. People didn’t like to be lied to and that’s all he had been doing. Lying, hiding, taking up space in their classroom someone else could have used.
Iida wouldn’t let them hurt him, but he was just one person, and injured. Momo wasn’t violent but he couldn’t count on her to step in, she could be just as angry, just as disappointed, and there was no way Kacchan would get involved any further, not for Izuku’s sake.
He curled in on himself, as distant memories from before he had presented him told him what to expect and he flinched as another hand came down on his shoulder. They were going to hold him down, take turns hitting him.
“Midoriya!” That voice was definitely angry. Izuku curled in further, waiting for the blow to come. He couldn’t even muster enough strength in his body to defend himself – it would be worse then, and there were too many people for him to fight on his own. It would just make everything worse.
“What is going on?” Another voice, demanding, commanding, and louder than all the others, almost painfully so. Izuku couldn’t quite place it, but he recognized safety in it. No one would hurt him, with that voice in the room; safe, his mind screamed. That voice was safe.
Izuku tried to uncurl himself. Safety was here, in that voice, Izuku just had to reach out to it. Reach out and he’d be okay, reach out and let it take over him. Then he’d be safe. But he found moving too difficult, there was still a hand on him. Still a hand weighing him down and his breath was catching, catching and failing and catching again as he tried to force it out. But the weight of the hand was moving, it was on his chest now, and Izuku could hardly breathe at all anymore.
“Stop crowding him!” The voice was closer now, so loud Izuku would have pressed his hands to his eyes to block it out if he could just move, and angry. Angry, scary. But not directed towards him, never to him. Not like that.
The hands left him at once, but the weight remained, crushing. Why was it still there? Why, why, why –
“Izuku. Izuku, breath.” The angry voice was soft now, not scary, but still too loud. Still commanding.
There were voices around them, murmurs that shifted and fell around them but trying to make out their words was like catching water in splayed hands – it was all nonsense, indecipherable. Only the voice was clear now, as it commanded him to breathe again and Izuku struggled to try to obey. He didn’t want to disappoint the voice, but the weight was a palpable crush against his skin and his chest would not move, no matter how much Izuku willed it, to let air rush into his lungs.
It wasn’t a good thing, the darkness crowding Izuku’s blurred vision, but he welcomed it nonetheless. The darkness was mercifully silent as it wrapped Izuku in its cold embrace.