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It all started when he woke up late. Izuku woke up at 6:15 every morning, and he had been since middle school. But this morning, he opened his eyes to the sun already leaking into his room and his alarm clock reading 7:00. He bolted upright, panicked. How had he slept in? He always woke up at 6:15 so he had time to stretch and drink tea before class. It wasn’t like him not to follow his routine. Of course, class didn’t start until 8, so he had plenty of time to get ready, but it still just felt wrong. Even so, he decided it would be okay. Even if he didn’t get to have his tea or workout, he could still get ready for school like normal. He pushed the feeling of unease away, clambering his way out of bed. The tile floor was cold beneath his feet as he made his way over to his closet, nervously fidgeting with his wild, curly hair.
The next thing was his uniform. He had the standard number of uniforms everyone else did, two for class and three for gym. He’d been wearing these uniforms all year without any issues. It was a concern his mother had already addressed before he even went in, making sure he got to try on the uniforms and make sure they’re comfortable, and they’d been perfect then. But this morning, the second he slipped his uniform over his head, it was like his skin lit on fire. It was itchy and hot, like hundreds of fire ants trekking along his skin, and it nearly made him scream. He looked down in confusion. Why did his uniform feel like this? Usually it was okay, it had never been a problem before. He shrugged it off, reaching for a different shirt, but somehow that one was even worse. What was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly having issues with his clothes the one and only day he sleeps in? Even so, he couldn’t stand the idea of missing class. He took a deep, shuddery breath, and pulled his pants on, ignoring the discomfort against his skin. Once it was done, he grabbed his bathroom stuff and hurried down the hallway towards the bathroom.
It was lively and full when he got there, completely different from when it was just him and occasionally Katsuki in here. Katsuki and Shouto were the only ones who got up nearly as early as he did, so they were the only ones around when he first woke up. Now, the entire first year was here, both 1-A and 1-B. He stepped inside, heading straight for one of the few empty sinks.
“Hey, morning’ Midobro!” Eijiro cheered brightly. Izuku winced. It was way too early to be like that.
“Good morning…”
“I never see you down here at this point in the morning! Usually you’re already in class!”
“A-Ah, right. I slept in a little, that’s all.”
“Hey, everyone loves a little extra sleep sometimes.” He suddenly ducked to dodge a towel thrown his way, falling flat right at Izuku’s feet. He charged after the offender, Denki, who ran away with a sound between a laugh and a shriek. Izuku sighed, struggling not to scowl as he brushed his teeth. He needed time to mentally prepare for the noise, and since he’d slept in there was no time. He had to go straight from his peaceful room to the chaos of his class, and he hated that. But it was okay, he knew it was okay. He could endure it for a little bit longer, and then class would start and everything would be normal. He brushed quickly, certainly not as long as he was supposed to but he couldn’t really be arsed to stand there for 3 minutes, and went back to his room. Almost as soon as he stepped in, he knocked over a cup of water sitting on his desk. He groaned as water spilled on the floor, soaking his socks. He HATED wet socks. But now it was 7:30 and he wanted to head to class. He put his bathroom bag next to his bed and grabbed some paper towels, quickly soaking up the water. He peeled his socks off, trying not to gag, and changed into new ones. Now he was better. Well, mostly, he was still hot and itchy but it was 7:45 and he couldn’t stand the idea of not being in class anymore. He walked briskly towards the classroom, his book bag slung across his shoulders. He left the dorm building, crossing the courtyard and entering the school building.
Even the familiarity of the classroom did nothing to help him. Normally he would be the first one in here, but several of his classmates were already in their seats, chatting and laughing with each other. Some were trading yen for favors, playing rock paper scissors for who would control the lounge tv after school, helping each other with last minute homework. This wasn’t anything new, it was like this every morning, but it all felt wrong. Izuku hated it. He hated that he’d woken up late and his uniform was still so itchy on his skin and despite changing socks, he swore his feet were still moist. He hated that Katuski hadn’t come over and started yelling at him yet, like he usually did, instead being too engrossed in helping Mina with her eyeliner to even realize Izuku had walked in. He sat at his desk, fidgeting endlessly, digging his fingernails into his palms to calm down. He felt sweaty and gross, his palms clammy and wet, but there was no real sweat to wipe away which made it much worse. It was like his mind was playing tricks on him, turning all of the stimuli around him up to 1000x and offering him no way out. He swore class took longer than usual to start, feeling like he’d been sitting there for hours when in reality it was barely 10 minutes. Aizawa came into the classroom, fussing at everyone to sit down and listen. Class started two minutes late. Everything was wrong. It was a training day, which meant there were no general education classes. Class would be shorter than usual, just a few sparring matches, some inevitable visits to Recovery Girl, and then time to rest up until tomorrow morning. That was it. He just needed to make it to the end of the day and then he could go back to his dorm, lay down, and wake up on time tomorrow like he was supposed to.
His feet dragged as he followed his classmates down to the gym, his usual enthusiasm all but gone. Normally he was itching to go training, always eager to improve his Quirk, but he just hated today. His uniform had gone from itchy to sharp, almost stabbing pain, pins and needles on every inch of his body. He wanted to claw his own skin off, anything to get the feeling away. He was hyper aware of everything in his body now. His heartbeat was unnervingly loud in his ears, his stomach churning from the little bit of breakfast he’d managed to stomach, he could even feel his bones beneath his skin, and frankly he wanted them out as well. He was only half listening when Aizawa assigned sparring partners, barely catching that he was supposed to be with Eijiro. That was new. He’d never sparred with Eijiro before, and while under normal circumstances he would be happy to try something new, everything today had been so off that having to fight someone he’d never fought before made him feel awful. Anxiety spiked in his chest as Aizawa dismissed them, his fidgeting increasing.
“Hey, Midoriya! Are you ready to rumble?” Eijiro was as sweet and bright as ever. All Izuku could manage was a nod. A look of confusion passed over Eijiro’s face but he didn’t voice it, simply trotting a few paces away to give them space to fight in. Izuku robotically got into a fighting stance, his head swimming too much to properly focus. Had the gym lights always been so blinding? And the hum they emitted, it was deafening. He felt sick and sticky, his stomach aching something fierce. Eijiro hesitated.
“A-Are you sure you’re okay, dude? You’re swaying back and forth…can you even hear me?” He walked back up to him, concerned. He placed a gentle hand to his forehead, but Izuku jolted away from him, squealing in panic. Eijiro yelped in response, jumping backwards. Izuku could hardly see anymore, his vision filling with black dots and swimming with tears. He covered his ears, desperately trying to dull the sounds pounding into his head. He felt trapped, like the room was closing in on him, eyes watching him from every angle.
“Oi. Deku.” A familiar voice cut through the fog, making him flinch. And then, he was being led by his wrist towards the gym doors.
“Hey, Baku-”
“Shut it.”
“Where are y-”
“Fuck off, Dunce Face.” He ignored everyone as he stomped his way to the exit, Izuku staggering helplessly after him. Finally, he pushed the doors open, dragging Izuku into the hallway and onto the floor in front of the lockers. He was practically hyperventilating, shaking fiercely. Katuski sighed.
“You can do it now, Deku.” Instantly, Izuku curled in on himself, letting out the ear splitting shriek he’d been holding in for hours. His hands shot to his hair, tugging at the strands as he rocked back and forth. Tears streamed down his face as he kept screaming, hiccuping and coughing, struggling to breathe. He faintly heard the doors opening again, and Aizawa’s soft, concerned voice.
“Bakugou? What’s wrong with Midoriya?” he asked gently. Katsuki shrugged.
“I dunno. He just does this sometimes.” he replied. Izuku let another distressed wail, clawing at his arms. Katsuki grabbed his wrists, scowling.
“Oi! I said you can kick and scream all you want but no scratching!” he snapped, his voice softer and gentler than usual but still firm. Izuku whimpered, making frantic grabby hands.
“K-K-Kach…cha-an…” he wheezed. Katsuki sighed, pulling Izuku close to his chest.
“You better not get snot on my uniform, stupid Deku.” he grumbled, even as he gently traced letters on his back, rocking both of them back and forth to help him calm down. Aizawa sighed.
“Well, it seems that you’ve experienced this before so…whenever possible, just take him to Recovery Girl, okay? Classes are canceled for you two for the rest of the day.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The doors closed again as Aizawa shooed their curious classmates back into the gym, fussing at them to go back to sparring and not to worry.
“Hey, Deku. Breathe, okay? Slow and steady, just like me.” Katsuki took a few deep, slow breaths, making sure Izuku could feel them. Even though his ears were still ringing and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, somehow Katuski’s voice managed to cut through the fog, gently pulling him out of his spiraling mind. Slowly but surely, he managed to take a deep, stuttered breath. Then another, one after another, slowly calming himself down. Katsuki cooed at him, humming quietly as he gently rocked him, fingers gently threading through his curly, tangled hair.
“You should let me detangle this mess for once.” he said fondly as he twisted the green strands around his fingers. Izuku hiccuped.
“Y-You’re…too rough when you b-brush my hair.” he whispered, his throat sore and voice raspy from screaming. Katsuki snorted.
“It wouldn’t be so rough if you did it yourself once in a while.” he retorted, receiving a little giggle in response.
“I-I like it this way…” he mumbled. Katsuki smiled.
“Well…I like it this way too.” Now that the panic was dying down, exhaustion was settling into his bones. He sighed, curling into Katsuki’s chest, using his shirt to try and scrub off some of his dry tears.
“Hey! You’re so fucking gross, you know that?” Katsuki complained. Izuku sniffled, pouting at him.
“They m-make my face burn.”
“I don’t care, you nasty bitch!” The words held no bite, and he could tell Katsuki was fighting off a smile. He grinned right back.
“Remember when we were kids? You would always use your shirt to clean my face, you even let me blow my nose in it a few times.” Katuski gagged.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. Kids are gross.” he groaned. Izuku laughed, snuggling a little closer to him.
“Are you falling asleep?”
“Mhmm.”
“Let’s get you back to your dorm then, the floor is cold and now my ass hurts. Aizawa said to take you to Recovery Girl but frankly, you don't need it.” He clambered to his feet, Izuku cradled in his arms. The soft, steady sound of his heartbeat, thumping quietly in his chest, was comforting. Izuku leaned into it, listening to every quiet, gentle pump, sighing.
“Can…can Kachaan stay in my dorm too?” he whispered. Katsuki snorted.
“Whatever, but we’re covering that stupid life sized All Might statue in there. I don’t need him staring me down.” he grumbled. Izuku gasped, feigning offense.
“Kachaan! How could you ever cover something so cool?”
“I will drop your dumbass on this floor right now, I swear to God.” Izuku chuckled, leaning back against his chest.
“We can cover it, as long as you promise to stay all day.” Katsuki held him a little closer.
“Yeah, I promise.”