Chapter Text
The night that everything went wrong was nothing special.
Honestly, if you wanted the right word to describe it, it would be “lacking.” A day so typical it made Midoriya want to rip his eyes out. Nothing happened, not a thing.
He had woken up to the sun, just like every other day. He had taken a shower and brushed his teeth like he did every morning. He had eaten the breakfast that his mother cooked for him and kissed her goodbye when she pulled up to his elementary school.
Even the school day was average. Every topic they covered was boring, and later, he sat down to eat the same lunch he’d been fed for the past week.
Not that he was complaining or anything, but it just made the day so identical all the rest. Even the excitement his mother showed when she picked him up had been just that: Average. He could remember even now thinking back, how he’d wished something—anything—would happen.
Be careful what you wish for.
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to put out there. Perhaps Midoriya should have paid attention to all the pre-quirk movies where blue genies told their master to be specific with what they ask for. Because there always seemed to be a way to twist someone's words. Such was the case of Izuku Midoriya.
He had come home from his average day to spend time in their average apartment and sat down on the couch to watch a show that was neither good nor bad, but simply average.
So average that Midoriya could remember the clock ticking as the seconds went by and the quiet sizzling from the pan that his mother was using to make dinner.
The crickets had begun chirping the same repetitive tune, and the warm air that had ruffled his fluffy hair was only noticeable because of how bland everything else had been in comparison.
He should have questioned why he felt that breeze. Should’ve remembered that they never open the windows.
Looking back, he feels as if that whole day was just one gigantic warning. A big red sign screaming “BEWARE DANGER.” It was Midoriya’s own fault that he mislabeled the day as so lackluster because, in reality, it was anything but that.
He remembers the open window squeaking on its hinges, the quiet treading on his floors that he was glad to hear because it was finally something.
He remembers the way he frantically looked over his shoulder because anything was better than the monotonous activity he had been indulging in thus far.
But then he remembers the unfamiliar body in the entrance way. A head of black, unlike the distinct green that he and his mother had been gifted. The sharp blade coming closer and closer, light reflecting off its flat edge.
Midoirya can still hear the screams. See his mom frantically yelling at them to let go, give him back, stop hurting them. Izuku’s own hysterical sobbing at the sight of his mother looking so distraught, and eventually, her look of nothing at all. He remembers watching distantly as the life drained from her eyes and the floor pooled with blood, her body limply sagging to the ground mid-cry.
Everything past that, he doesn’t remember at all.
But that was then, this is now, and Midoriya doesn’t like to dwell on the past any longer than necessary. Especially not when Aizawa would chew him out if he spaced out for much longer.
Aizawa sensei cleared his throat behind his desk, looking over at his students and taking one last large gulp of coffee from a mug he pulled out of nowhere. “In light of the fight with the league and All Might’s subsequent retirement, UA has decided that we will be moving into a dorm style school system. As your homeroom teacher, I will personally be coming around to everyone’s homes to gain permission from parents or guardians before proceeding with the moving process. Please let them know that they should expect a call to schedule a time sometime this weekend that I can stop by. Any questions?”
The entire class exploded into noise. Each person clambering on top of one another to ask their teacher follow up questions or turning to their desk neighbor to begin brainstorming what they think it will be like.
Living together. In one building. Fuck.
Midoriya could not think of a worse hell. Alright well, he might be able to think of a few things that were more terrible, actually a lot of things, but as of this month this was the worst thing to happen to him.
“What do you think about all this?” Uraraka asked from beside him.
Iida turned around to face him as well, chopping his hand to gain his attention. “Yes, I am also quite curious about your thoughts on the matter. Out of all our classmates, you are arguably the best person to ask for logical insight.”
Midoriya plastered on a fake grin and hunched his shoulders a little more. Trying to appear sheepish to his friends instead of the complete annoyance he was truly feeling.
“I mean, for some of us it will definitely be a change from being pretty self-sufficient like we are right now, whether that’s due to parents' work schedule or people like Ururaka who lives by herself. For others who are more used to a lavish lifestyle, the sudden swap to independence might be uncomfortable. And I’m definitely curious to see how our class dynamic will be affected as we all adjust to either having to live with others or being forced to pitch in, but that’s also assuming everyone’s parents allows them to go and–”
“Deku, you're fucking rambling again.” Bakugou cut him off.
Oh thank god someone stopped him there, Midoriya would have gotten a headache if he had to go on any longer.
“No, Midoriya does have a good point.” Aizawa was looking at their little group in the back and other conversations paused to listen in. “This will definitely be a change of pace for the majority of you. Living in the dorms means a monthly budget for necessities will be given, but it will be up to your class to work together and figure out where to put it towards and make a plan for dinner’s which will not be provided. Regardless, I think it will do good in showing all of you how to better work with others as a team and how to compromise. All of which are essential skills for a hero. And of course there will be rules that need to be followed, but that is a discussion for a later time after I know who will be moving in.”
Once again the class broke out into discussion. Some were excited to feel like a real adult while others were scared of it. Midoriya met his teacher’s eyes over the heads of his friends, watching as he silently critiqued each conversation being had until eventually meeting his gaze.
Aizawa’s lips curled up into the smallest half smirk as he gave Midoriya a little nod, and for some reason that gesture of acknowledgement made him feel terrible inside. Because Aizawa-sensei was comforting Deku: A timid crybaby persona he had made publicly for the sake of consistency and safety.
That’s not who he was anymore. Four years ago, he would have been one in the same. But too much had happened since then. Things that changed him on practically a molecular level, and he would no longer be a weak Deku ever again, even if it was who he had to present himself as to the rest of the world.
But no one else knew that, and Midoriya felt like such a fraud tricking his teachers and classmates into believing the opposite was true. He didn’t actually need the accommodations that everyone seemed to make for him.
His friends always asked him questions during conversations so that he felt like he had a safe space to express his thoughts, because to them he was too shy to do so otherwise. Really, he was more content to sit back and listen, actually preferring to be a man of few words.
The teachers at UA, particularly Present Mic and Midnight, thought that he was touch starved after he mentioned once that his single mother worked night shifts and wasn’t home much–another lie–so they had taken it upon themselves to provide the affection that he seemed to be missing. Pat’s on the back, ruffling his hair, and the occasional hug. Nothing monumental, but to him it might as well be.
Frankly, Midoriya would rather drink hot oil than have to endure physical touch at all, but they only knew the front that he put on, and he couldn’t fault them for coming to conclusions based on how Deku acted.
Midoriya was rather good at wearing masks though, physically and metaphorically speaking. No way in hell would he trip and fall now when he had already made it this far.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. All anyone could talk about was the new dormitories, and the teachers seemed to pick up on how distracted they were, going light in the curriculum and barely even assigning homework.
Before he knew it Midoiya was packing up his stuff and getting ready to head out. Todoroki was a silent presence beside him, one of the reasons he was probably the easiest to get along with out of the class. Not to pick favorites or anything.
When they were all en route to the exit, Todoroki noticed Midoriya’s attention drifting and turned to him. “Are you coming with us to the train station?”
“What? Deku always walks with us to the station?” Uraraka piped up.
Midoriya hesitated before turning back to face them. “Actually, I think I want to go check out the new gym that they just added. I haven't had a chance with everything that’s been going on.”
Todoroki looked at him skeptically, but nodded regardless. Uraraka tried volunteering to go with him, but he told her that he wouldn’t want them to miss her train, unlike him who just happened to live in that direction and didn’t actually need to catch a ride.
“Ok, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m positive.” Midoriya grinned at her.
Iida didn’t seem pleased at him walking around past school hours, but one glance from Todoroki silenced what he was about to scold him with. “Alrighty Midoriya, but please text the group chat when you make it home so we know you’re safe.”
“Promise!” And with that he sped walk away off further onto school property.
UA’s campus was beautiful, so he didn’t feel bad about the excuse since it wasn’t technically a lie. He did truly want to look at the new gym, it just wasn’t his first priority.
What he really needed to address first was the mostly transparent body of his dead friend floating in the air ahead of him. “Midoriya, we’ve got a problem.”
He huffed but kicked up the pace. “Lead the way.”