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BEEP BEEP BEEP- “ Fuck…” Izuku groans into his pillow, lazily rolling over to stare at his ceiling. The soft light from the crack in his curtains reveals the tiny glow-in-the-dark stars stuck there, some hanging on for dear life. He turns to his alarm clock, eyes bleary, and it reads 7am. He groans again.
“Seeya Mum!” Izuku calls. He stands at the door, fidgeting with the keys in his hand. He feels more anxious than usual, but chalks it up to the possibility of being late.
“Bye! Have a good day” She replies, moving from the kitchen into Izuku’s view.
“Thanks, Love you!” He shuts the door and makes his way to his car. He got his license a few months ago, and he’s one of the only in his friend group to have one. At the base of his driveway, there stands Katsuki. They live on the same street, and Katsuki keeps failing his driving test because he always ends up swearing at the instructor.
“Hurry up!” The blond shouts, gesturing towards Izuku’s beaten-up car. It used to be his grandma's car, left to him when she got a new one. He unlocks the car as he nears, and Katsuki impatiently gets in the passenger seat. Izuku joins him soon after.
“Morning!” He greets as he sits down and turns the key in the ignition. Katsuki grunts.
“You were late.” He responds flatly.
“Yeah, woke up a bit late, sorry.” He pulls out of the driveway and drives to their highschool, at which they are in their final year. Izuku watches the road with heightened vigilance. There’s something off about today, he can feel it. His heart feels like a hummingbird in his chest, taking up far too much space with its fast beating wings.
“Izuku! Hey!” He snaps his gaze up to see Ochako smiling and waving her hand in front of his face. “You spaced out for a second there! C’mon, homeroom’s just about over. We have English next." She shifts from foot to foot, always eager to be on the move.
“Oh– Sorry! I think I’m still waking up.” He replies with a chuckle, running his hand through his fluffy hair. Mr. Aizawa dozes on his desk, as usual.
“Don’t stress it, let’s go!” Ochako turns on her heel, brown bob bouncing as she walks. Izuku follows, unable to shake the rising tension within him. He feels like a spring, coiled up, waiting to be released. His eyes dart around with uncharacteristic fervor. Something’s wrong. He can feel it, but he would have more luck licking his own elbow than pinpointing it.
Izuku sits in class, fidgeting with the pen in his hand as he listens to Mr. Yamada ramble on about the book they were to begin the following lesson.
Stab yourself. Bury your pen in your abdomen, watch your blood spill.
Izuku flinches. Why would he think that? He sees Ochako glance over from her spot next to him, so he tries for a tight lipped smile with as much conviction as he can muster. She smiles back, albeit with some hesitation, and turns back to the teacher. He feels like his entire world has just been spun on its axis. He looks down at his hands, and the pen clutched in his white knuckled grasp. What if he does it? He drops the pen to the desk, staring at it with rapt attention. Where did that thought come from? He doesn’t want to, and would never even consider it. So… what was that thought? The bell rings, snapping him out of his whirlwind of thoughts, and he begins to gather up his books. After a moment's hesitation, he leaves the pen behind.
“Saw you got a bit startled before. Are you okay?” Ochako asks on their way to Izuku’s next class. She’ll be late to hers, but she's adamant about checking up on him after every minor hiccup.
“Yeah! All good, it was just a bit of a violent shiver. Honestly Ocha, you worry too much. You need to get to your class!” He replies with a smile. She looks unsure, but drops the subject anyway.
He’d almost forgotten about the strange occurrence with the pen when it happens again.
What if your mum dies? What if she dies right now and you could've stopped it? If you think about her being healthy, right now, maybe she won’t.
Izuku sits ramrod straight in his chair. There’s that strange, removed voice that both sounds like his regular thoughts… and doesn’t. He considers it. There’s no way his thoughts could influence his mum’s wellbeing, right? It was a nonsensical thought to have. But a small part of him argues,
You wouldn’t want to risk it though, right?
He spends the rest of the lesson obsessively picturing his mum in perfect health.
The thoughts don’t stop. Everywhere he looks, there’s a disaster on the brink of fruition. The scissors sitting on Tenya’s desk are a murder weapon, the child crossing the street is as good as dead, when Izuku catches a glimpse of a spoon his eyes are practically already gouged out, and the thoughts won’t stop. Every new, disturbing thought is edging him towards the conclusion that he has well and truly gone mad.
“You’re freakishly quiet. It’s fucked up. Usually my ears would be bleeding by now.” Katsuki gruffly speaks into the silence of the car. They’re on their way home from school, and Izuku feels like his brain is being stretched in a thousand different directions, which leaves no room for idle chit-chat.
“Oh. Just tired, I guess.” Izuku replies, keeping his eyes laser-focused on the road.
“Don’t give me that bullshit Deku–” They go over a speed bump.
That was a body. You just killed an old lady who fell- or a child- or- Izuku’s eyes blew wide, hands gripping tight on the steering wheel. He needs to pull over. Now. Katsuki is still rambling on in the background while Izuku hastily finds the first available piece of curb. His breaths are coming quicker now, his hands coming up to clutch at the hair at the nape of his neck. He pushes the car door open, not bothering to close it or turn off the engine. He runs back to where the speed bump, or corpse, is and frantically looks around
"HEY! What the fuck are you doing Deku? You look insane right now–" Katsuki shouts, striding from the car to where Izuku is standing.
"Just give me a minute! I need to check something!" He calls back, voice shaky and eyes never leaving the asphalt. He hasn't found a body yet, but the fear won't leave him. He feels panic infesting his body, making a home in his chest, behind his eyes, in the shake of his knees, in–
"Seriously, what the hell are you doing? There's nothing here." Katsuki says, suddenly much closer than Izuku remembers. Izuku's breaths are coming quicker now and he’s wringing his hands with manic intensity. The hummingbird in his chest is trying to break free, pecking at his diaphragm with its razor sharp beak. There’s an acute pain blossoming behind his temples, like the throb of his nails biting into his palms, tenfold.
“I just… I’m just checking.” Izuku mutters, his voice faraway to his own ears.
“You already said that. What are you checking?” Katsuki replies impatiently, looking at Izuku like he’s out of his mind.
Maybe you are– You’ve completely lost touch with reality. Is this even real?
“Just… making sure I didn’t run something over. Just a random thought I had.” Izuku whispers.
Izuku lay in bed, staring at the tiny stars plastered to his ceiling.
What if you’re a pedophile? You looked at that little girl a little too long this morning, you must be a pedo.
What? No! He looked because she was cute, he would never–
What if? What if you would, though? What if you’re the worst kind of person, and deep down you’ve always known it?
The hummingbird is back, wings beating faster than ever. There’s thousands of them now. Thousands trapped within his lungs and another thousand sitting on his chest, trying to save their brethren with their pointy beaks and tiny, razor-sharp claws.
“Are you, like, alright? You’ve been weird as shit. More than usual, which is impressive.” Katsuki asks, once again sitting in Izuku’s passenger seat on their way to school.
“Uh… yeah. I’m all good. Just a bit more anxious than usual.” Izuku refused to meet Katsuki’s eyes.
What if he knows what you are? The things you think? Maybe you should report yourself before he does.
Izuku is in his last class of the day, sitting on his hands. The plastic of the chair pushes painfully on the bones in his hand. He needs to, so there’s a barrier between him and driving his fist into Katsuki’s nose. He doesn’t want to, of course, but what if? He gnaws on his lip, and he feels the sharp sting of exposed flesh.
“Oi, nerd. You got OCD? You’re doing the same shit my cousin does.” Katsuki says to him in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, leaning into Izuku’s space.
“What? No? I’m pretty sure I wash my hands like… a normal amount.” Izuku replies, voice laced with confusion, hands still trapped under his thighs. They were beyond numb at this point.
“No, dipshit, the checking and shit. I’ve been seeing you do it all day. My cousin has OCD and she does the exact same nonsense.”
“I… don’t think I have OCD. I’m pretty sure I would know. Like, have you seen my room?” Izuku says with a nervous chuckle. He’s getting a bit flustered. Katsuki never speaks about this kind of stuff with him.
“Whatever, nerd.” Katsuki eyes him suspiciously.
Izuku was, once again, laying in bed staring at the stars on his ceiling. He really ought to take them down. They were a gross yellow around the edges and barely even glowed anymore.
BZZT. Izuku turned to pick up his phone resting on his bedside table and squinted at the notification. Kacchan sent you a message. Katsuki was never up this late, what was he messaging Izuku for?
Kacchan: Read this. I don't think you actually understand what OCD is.
He had linked an article about OCD.
Deku: i told you, i don't have ocd. why are you suddenly so insistent on this?
Kacchan: Just read it. I’m going to bed.
Deku: ok, good night.
He read the article.
The more he read, the faster his heart beat. But this time, it wasn’t the hummingbird. It was something much lighter, less painful. He felt like his entire soul was on display, like his ribs had opened up and his heart was bared to the open air.
He… wasn’t insane?
There, in text, were some of the very same thoughts he had been experiencing. Other people have them too, and the compulsions. There’s a word for all the strange things he’d been doing. He… has OCD. He isn’t a pedophile or at risk of murdering someone, he’s sick.
Deku: thanks, i think you might be right. i’ll talk to my mum.
Seen.
It’s the morning after a restless sleep, and Izuku once again feels like his world has been spun on its axis. Thank god it’s the weekend, because he knows he wouldn’t be able to keep up appearances in this state. He feels like his brain has been put in a salad spinner. He makes his way down the stairs on shaky knees. He stands by the breakfast bar, opposite to where his mum is cooking pancakes. He fiddles with the bottom of his pajama shirt.
“Hey mum, I… think I might need some help.” Izuku said tentatively.
“With what honey? Are people giving you a hard time at school again?” She turns to look at him, spatula still in her hand.
“No, I… think there’s something wrong with me. I’ve been having… really bad thoughts–” he takes a shuddery breath, struggling to meet his mum’s eyes, “–Katsuki thinks it might be OCD.”
“Oh honey… come here.” She says, turning the stove off, putting down the spatula, and embracing Izuku when he nears. He feels tears welling up in his eyes.
“I’ll make an appointment with the GP okay? Let’s get you some food.” She says, ruffling his messy hair. Izuku begins to cry and hiccup, and she holds him.
“Thanks, mum. I love you.” He whispers into her shoulder.