Work Text:
(Begin)
Everyone thinks suicide means going crying into the night. Death means mourning, crying, running away from everything that hurts you. But it’s not that. Not for everyone. Izuku mourns for those that felt pushed to believe that this was their only painful solution- that to feel peace they must suffer one last time.
But…
It’s not.
There’s a certain type of mania that someone gets on the verge of death. And some people use that to plead with an aggressor, some people use that adrenaline to run, and others use it to scream. One of the natural responses to pain is to scream, to yell and shout and scream - a signal for help - it manifests itself through several different means, but there’s another response.
Panic brings screams, and mania brings laughter.
Izuku, for one, is no exception to this. Giggles spill out his mouth when he stumbles through the dark city, having yet to come home from school. His backpacks bounces against his back with each stumbling step. Viridian eyes flick across the lightposts as they flicker, a certain wideness to them as he feels almost like he’s sneaking around. Each person he passes, it feels like he bestows upon them a secret. It’s not illegal to walk around at night, not at all. The street lamps flicker sometimes, directing his attention at times as his fingers dig into his backpack straps. It helps to ground himself, a feeling of dragging him back down to earth as the scratchy fabric leaves little imprints on his fingertips. Red shoes drag across the sidewalk as he starts to get into the more urbanized part of town.
[One new text message received!
View message? ]
Izuku ignores his phone as it buzzed in his pocket. It feels like a heavy weight, and he very carefully pulls it out to turn it off. Nimble fingers press down on the power button, and then with a tap, the device gets shut off and re-pocketed. ‘Must be from mom…’ The thought comes and goes, as his attention gets pulled to the buildings as they start to get taller. Through an underpass, over a bridge, across the sidewalk, through the town, Izuku walks.
His knees barely hold his weight as he sways, and he covers his mouth as he decides to duck through an alleyway. Glass crunches under his shoes, and he doesn’t look to see what he stepped on. Instead, childish little noises leave him as he sneaks around, his eyes looking up at the stars. He can’t see much of them as the buildings stretch up, seeming to never end, and a sliver of the sky peaks through.
“I want to see them closer,” He decides, his lips twitching slightly, pulling into a little smile as he looks to the buildings next to him. The fire escape doesn’t seem hard to navigate, he thinks. He looks at his backpack, glancing to the ladder. Now, Izuku isn’t very strong, nor is he tall. He wasn’t graced with a quirk like most were, and that means he has to use his brain to figure out how to pull it down. Something seems to click and he shrugs the backpack off, holding it in front of him as he looks towards the entrances of the alleyway.
The night is near silent, with the exception of a few passing cars. And he waits for a second, closing his eyes as he listens to the sounds. He can’t predict when a car will pass by, but he can hear the engine as it rumbles, and he waits until three more cars pass, and then the backpack is tossed up.
A miss. It hits the ground with a thud.
He stares at it for a second, looking at it as it rests on the concrete.
Oh.
Oh …. Now there’s an idea.
He frowns as it hits the ground, but he takes a deep breath as he goes to pick it up again. And then the cycle repeats.
He waits until the next car passes, a red car, and then he tosses it again. And this time, the backpack gets tossed up, this time hitting the ladder and putting enough weight on it for the ladder to slide down. And from there, the backpack doesn’t get picked up.
Another rush of mania hits him, and the item is abandoned.
What an idea.
What an idea. And it’s all his.
It’s his and it’s achievable.
Izuku’s pupils dilate from the rush he gets, and his fingers grip the dusty bar, and he hoists himself up it. First he climbs the ladder, and then it’s a long series of stairways upwards. If his legs could barely contain his swaying before, they don’t do much now. It takes him what feels like an hour to climb up all the way, and at certain points, he sits for a moment, out of breath.
His uniform gets dirtier when he sits, but that’s not really a concern in his mind. It will need to be cleaned regardless.
So, ignoring how his black uniform turns gray when he sits, he takes all the checkpoints that he needs. He can’t see the stars on the fire escape unless he peeks his head out, his green locks flowing backwards when he glances up. And it’s not enough. It’s not enough of a view. His adventure continues onwards until he finally reaches the top, his footsteps muting themselves as he steps off the creaky metal, and reaches the concrete top. Izuku gets up there and goes to stand in the middle.
He counts to three.
And finally, he looks up.
The stars never looked so damn beautiful tonight. Sure, tears are welling up in his eyes, but he is looking on with a smile. It’s a manic sort of look, but he is grinning with the stars in his eyes and it’s a beautiful scene. The view causes his eyes to water, and he decides that he needs more. He needs to see all that there is to see. So his stumbling steps guide him to the edge. And even as he looks down from the twenty story building, the lights coming from passing cars grant him so much serenity that it causes him to think about all the beauty there is in the world.
He looks down to his dirtied reg shoes and notices how jarring they are against his uniform. He doesn’t need them, anyways. He knows that he needs to take them off, and he can’t help but think of plenty of reasons as he unlaces them. They’re ugly, and he’s worn the same style since he was a kid. It’s time to let go of the past, and try something new. White socks slip out of them, and the shoes are discarded towards the middle of the roof as he looks around once more.
His knees wobble as he looks to the scene surrounding him once again.
He finds the peace that he’s been looking for all night. He finds it in the lives of others. And he doesn’t think that he can find it in himself to lead one like this.
The cars from those driving at an age he’ll never reach, the sight of businessmen going home with ties loosely around their neck and a wobble in their step show a career Izuku will never get to pursue. There’s a couple of stragglers that Izuku doesn’t bother to focus on past what little he can see from up here.
There’s an old man hobbling with a singular bag in hand, a young adult who looked exhausted, and even just a tired middle aged guy who has no life in any of his steps. They all remind Izuku of himself, but he chooses not to dwell on any of that. Instead, he quickly looks away, missing the way the tired man looks up and picks up his pace.
It wasn’t his original idea to end up here tonight.
But the sound his backpack made as it hit the ground gave him an idea.
At first, his plan was to hunt down villain sightings. But then the night trickled onwards, and he told his mother that he was going to Katsuki’s for the night. A sleep over to kick off the summer break before highschool, he told her.
He wasn’t going to Katsuki’s. He never was.
He was going to stumble his way around until he found peace somewhere. Chasing the adrenaline rush ended him up here, and he decided that he needed more.
So, he searches out more things to make him smile. There’s even beauty in the stars and how they shine brighter than he could ever hope to. And look-! Green eyes look over the edge again and follow a couple as they stare at each other with such love and adoration that it reminds him of his parents, at least in vague memory. In a muddied memory, his father looks at Inko with such an expression.
Such a memory is near faded. A shame, but at least there’s this memory now.
He decides that he needs to live through these strangers, observing their lives, just for a few more minutes.
And then that will have to be enough.
His white socks were getting dirty with how he walked around the empty rooftop and explored the sights of the world one last time. He commits it to memory, telling himself that the world is beautiful.
Though, he knows there is only one way this will end. His rose tinted glasses are coming off and they’ll lay cracked on the concrete below with the shattered remains of his body. Part of him thinks he needs to write a note. But as he glances down to his backpack below, he decides that he won’t be trekking back down there tonight.
If he did, would the adrenaline still be there for him to return back up? He doesn’t want to lose this feeling.
So the thought gets abandoned. His story will have to be proof enough. And though he isn’t hopeful, maybe the reasoning he is up here will get spilled by other students. Maybe the grief will cause them to spill. His mother deserves answers as to why, but he can’t be the one to provide them. Someone else will have to tell his story, and maybe they’ll admit to the guilt of putting such an idea into his head.
But even that, he doesn’t think it’s entirely true. Just because someone verbalized it, doesn’t mean that he didn’t think about it before.
Those are ugly thoughts, and he doesn’t want to think about that.
He wants beautiful things. He wants shining stars and love stories and successful careers and everything tinted in a shade of rose.
The creaking of the door to the rooftop has his dimming smile falling flat off his face, and those rose-colored glasses fading just a shade dimmer.
Perhaps it’s just a worker coming to take a breath of fresh air. Or maybe it’s a security guard coming to investigate the intruder. But the way that the man takes small puffs of air as he focuses his dark eyes on him tells him another story. This man must have run up here, and that doesn’t bode well for Izuku.
He gets another rush, but this one is much less fun. It feels like ice courses through his veins as he stands frozen momentarily, staring with those wide eyes of his. Izuku has to fight to keep those metaphorical glasses on, in this moment, and his chest heaves from the internal fight that rages on between his heart and his mind.
But he won’t lose them. He’s fought his entire life to keep them one, and there’s only one situation where he’s going to lose them.
Socked feet shuffle a little at about the same time the stranger takes a step forward. Black eyes peer through black hair and a hand comes to brush it out of his face as he shows his worried expression.
“Kid-”
“I’m not-”
The words are spoken at the same time, causing Izuku to flinch away from the noise. It’s soft, but it’s entirely too much. The man briefly flicks his eyes across the scene, and though there’s nothing incriminating, Izuku doesn’t like his odds. The only thing the man can spot is his shoes, and that’s enough to paint a tragic picture for the adult.
“They’re too small- That’s all!” Izuku’s words are rushed and, quite frankly, are bullshit. They’re not believable to him, even, and it causes his mood to crash a little. Tears well up in his eyes as he turns to look back at the scenery of the night. “... It’s a beautiful night out. That’s all.” Izuku’s voice is quieter this time with a crack in it, and this time it’s more truthful.
The man doesn’t try to take another step forward. He’s watching Izuku’s actions as he finds the words to reply. He’s analyzing the scene, choosing his words all too carefully. He has to wet his lips for a moment before he finds the words to say. His voice is deep but soft, not at all stern. Not at all like the adults Izuku was used to talking to. “It’s not,” He replies after a small pause. There’s no time for the dark-haired man to dwell on it any longer.
And Izuku feels small under the way the man looks at him. “Why-” He starts to ask, his voice small as his shoulders start to hunch.
“It’s cold.” The man responds as his hands move to the scarf around his neck, which Izuku glances at briefly. “And there’s trash down below that’s yet to be taken out.” The look the guy is giving him causes Izuku to shrink once more. The man surely had some adrenaline rushing through him from the run, despite him not looking out of breath. His actions are too careful, too sure. He’s handled this before. A case of someone trying to jump. The realization comes to Izuku about the same time the man speaks again. “Someone is missing a backpack, too.”
“And your shoes are too small.”
“You’re analyzing me.” Izuku mutters, but the words are loud enough for the man to pick up on. “Most people wouldn’t pick up on all the fine details. How did….” It stumps him for just a fraction of a second before he responds as Izuku starts to analyze him in return. Izuku, despite being young, was about average build for his age. He scaled the building in a normal fashion, and it took someone like him to have to take a handful of pauses. Even if he halves that, the man got up here way too fast for the average adult. He had to have stamina, even if he was a little breathless by the time he reached the top.
And that’s enough for Izuku to draw a conclusion.
“You’re a hero.”
“Not right now. I’m off the clock.”
And Izuku is shaking his head again, unkempt green curls frame his face as he stumbles another step closer to the edge. The hero takes another step closer, his longer legs allowing him to clear just a little bit of space in his concern.
[ No no no no no, why is this happening to him? A hero? Tonight of all nights? Why not any other time? Why when he was finally happy? ]
The moon shows just enough light for Izuku to look at the hero and really get a look for the hero. And finally, the final piece slides into the puzzle as a defeated slouch comes to his shoulders. He says, quietly and more so to himself than anything. He’s just putting it out there, having the fact of the matter be more concrete now that it was spoken into the night air. “You’re an underground hero- it’s no wonder I didn’t recognize you. If you were spotlight, I would’ve recognized you. You’re too quiet to be any other kind.” It’s his own foolish mistake of not exactly ducking from any prying eyes down on the ground below. Eraserhead had been walking by, probably just going about his own day since he apparently wasn’t on patrol.
“...Impressive stuff, kid, but that’s not the concern right now.” The hero, Eraserhead, states as he stands a little taller. Izuku is more wary of him getting closer since he knows what the scarf is now capable of. Aizawa can clearly tell that the kid is getting nervous and shifty, and he tries to relax his posture to make the student relax. But it’s enough. It’s not going to be enough tonight.
“It’s not cold.” He blurts out before the filter in his head kicks in. He’s just spewing things out now as his heels teeter off the edge of the building. “The night is fine …” Izuku has to search for any excuse to get him away from him. “I can take care of myself,-”
“But it’s not going to be any prettier tomorrow. It’s a terrible night, and it’s not the one for you. You’re looking too much at the good, kid. You’re looking for reasons, and I’m here to tell you that those aren’t enough. You’re cherry picking, and tonight isn’t the one for you. Not tonight, nor any night anytime soon.”
Carefully, Aizawa doesn’t say the action of what Izuku is planning, but he makes it clear that he knows. The backpack, the shoes, the manic look in the kid’s eyes, it’s all very telling. He’s telling the kid not to lie to himself. The night wasn’t pretty enough to justify it being enough for his final resting place. His moments deserved to be better than spent alone on some rooftop or down in the accompanying alleyway.
Small pebbles dig into Izuku’s socks, the sensation being lost on him before, as he focused on his surroundings instead. His school uniform hung around his frame as he hunched his shoulders in. “I’m not asking you to understand-”
“You have no room to ask me to leave.” Aizawa finishes again, not letting the kid delve far into his words. If he lets Izuku finish his words, then he might reach a point of no return. “It’s in the realm of my job description for me to help anyone that needs it.”
Izuku’s eyes are darting from side to side, trying to gauge a number of things at once. The first is the distance between him and the hero. The second is the distance between him and the edge. And the last, is how long he can possibly hold onto the rose-colored glasses before they fall, too.
“What if I don’t want your help?” Izuku poses the hypothetical as he grasps at straws. He’s looking for anything at this point.
“I’m here to give it anyways. I’m not asking you to step away from the ledge, just… talk to me. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“You can’t-”
“I can, and I want to.”
“I’m quirkless.” The word is spat out, as Izuku tries a last resort. “I’m quirkless , alright? There’s nothing you can do to help that.”
There’s silence for a good moment as Eraserhead lets that sink in. If Izuku thinks that will deter him, he’s wrong. Aizawa takes a deep breath as his response carefully gets spoken with another careful step taken towards him. “That’s a good reason to be up here, but it’s not a good reason for me to walk away. Being quirkless is a heavy thing for a kid your age, but you don’t have to do it alone.”
“But I do- I am-”
“Not anymore.”
There’s a moment of silence as Izuku looks over his shoulder at the scene going on down below. There’s two cats fighting in the alleyway, there’s visible cracks in the road even from this heights, someone is leaning out of their car to yell at the car ahead of them. The loving couple is gone, the businessman has since left, and…
Could the world really be so ugly?
“I didn’t ask to be. But… But you know that’s how the world works for me. I… I didn’t mean—” Izuku struggles to find the words to say. The hero is a few steps away from him now, and his shoulders slump. For the first time tonight, tears well up in his eyes as the mania fades, and he’s left with the dull throb of depression again. He’d rather have the manic laughter than this heavy cloud above his head. He’d rather be weak in the knees than feel this heavy weight settling in his heart.
“Take a step towards me kid, all I need is a sign and I’ll make it better. Just tell me who to call, and I’ll call them. Tell me who to talk to, and I’ll do it myself. Or we can do it together. But there’s two ways off this rooftop, and I need you to be by my side as we walk down together. You shouldn’t have to feel this alone at your age. You don’t have to be. Not anymore.” Eraserhead repeats those words again, outstretching a hand.
The glasses shatter on the concrete roof of the building as Izuku takes a stumbling step forward, needing something to cling onto. He’ll take anything, at this rate. Anything to dull this pain. Anything to feel less alone in such a cruel world.
And maybe it won’t be easier.
Maybe it’ll still hurt years from now.
Being quirkless won’t go away, but at least he won’t feel so alone.
And as he stumbles into the arms of the hero, who takes his hand to pull him closer to the rooftop, he hears sirens off in the distance as they slowly get louder.
That will be a problem for later, they both decide. As Izuku gets the only comfort he’s known for years, Eraserhead holds him knowing that while he saved a life in the short-term, there’s work to be done in the long run.
It’s not over yet.