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Izuku midoriya didn’t like to think he was emotional. While he did know that outwards he was the most outspoken and happy and sad and embarrassed person to exist, however being emotional meant that he had to feel the things he was showing. While it did feel like he did sometimes, just rarely, his real emotions tucked down under millions of layers with the pressure higher than the bottom of the ocean. His emotions were never supposed to reach the top, not even scratch the second of those millions of layers. These layers weren’t ever supposed to be let go if not in the safety of his home. It was the only place he knew that he would be safe from all judgement.
At least, he knew that now that his dad was gone, his dad was gone for good. It had been years since he had last left the states, that time when he announced he was getting remarried to some secretary from Portugal. They had somehow managed to get in contact and decided it was a good idea to keep this contact up, until it spiraled into a very heated relationship, a relationship that was burning through the universe like stars. Like the sun and its moon. Like strawberries with its chocolate.
Which is why this winter break was special. Him and his mom were going to the U.S. this time, for his fathers funeral. He got to meet the lady, their naturally quirked and intelligent children. Children that weren’t the reason of failure to this entire era. All the children knew both Portuguese, Japanese and English, they had never struggled in school and had lots and lots of amazing friends, which in hindsight isn’t to shocking. They were great and Izuku could see that they were amazing, a pot of gold.
But, nothing could stop the ache he had in his chest he was not good enough. He wasn’t good enough to stay for, just the annoying sand that sticks everywhere when you went to the beach once three summers ago, or that piece of glitter that’s just constantly stuck to your hand. Izuku simply wasn’t worth it, when he could have this. Izuku understood and he even felt sorry for the kids he’d never meet for loosing their father in such a tragic way. A quirk induced heart-attack, it was just a regular Wednesday and he was making his way to the grocery store when he’d been hit by a middle aged woman in the counter who was apparently screaming about her totally not expired coupons. He had been killed in a fit of rage, he’d been forced to leave his three beautiful 10-2 year olds because of coupons.
The funeral was simple, more of a Christian theme, Izuku thinks he might’ve converted to both get married and fit in more with his all-American coworkers who got oddly weird and oddly touchy with Izuku and his mother. Something about being so exotic?
When he and his mom got home, neither said anything. Just, went in as normal. Izuku continued training his normal schedule for breaks, he continued studying, checking if anyone had messaged him anything, continued training, eating, and sleeping. While his mom continued working, cooking watching elaborate soap operas with her flowery bowl of plain salted popcorn every Wednesday and Fridays, then picking up tea-talk with aunt-Mitsuki at Kat-Chans house. Nothing changed really, his father had never been there before, well except for before his diagnosis and returning once every year to make sure they were being good. Which honestly just correlated to him beating his mother for not being good enough to birth a quirked son, and then proceeding to rip Izuku's hair out by pulling him away to the youngests room to “talk”. There was a lot of talking to be done. The (one sided) conversation could last on for hours and if they didn’t finish before 0200 they’d continue first thing in the morning.
So, now Izuku could know his home was safe, because here he’d never have to hide his sorrows again, because here, there isn’t someone who wouldn’t ever have the thought about him hiding his feelings. Here, he had his mother and her elaborate soap operas which he’d join when he’s upset, cuddled down in the woman’s lap, fiddling with his fingers and her petting and brushing and twisting and fluffing his hair.
Inko Midoriya was the kindest person Izuku knew, she was amazing, easy to talk to. Like, really easy to talk to, because Izuku found people scary, everyone, except for Inko. With her long green hair, which she straightened every day so she didn’t have to spend hours on fixing her curls. Hair that Izuku had even learnt to braid for, though it was getting increasingly harder with the tiny nerve-damage in his right hand, forcing it to always be partially folded at the tip of his middle finger and spasm.
But, of course, his dads death hadn’t just been a releasing of the tension on his shoulders, it had also doubled it. Because, now that he couldn’t pay child support or send the small amount of extra money he had for housing, Izuku needed to move into the dorms because his mother would be needing to take up more shifts and she didn’t like the idea of Izuku being alone all the time. Inko had told Izuku over dinner a week before school started again, Izuku laid in Inkos lap the following Wednesday and Friday, maybe they sat together in that couch more than normally, just talking, but Izuku didn’t mind. Izuku understood.
Sure, Izuku had been the last person in the entire year to move into the dorms, he was half a year late, but it didn’t matter. He’d simply have to learn to trust this place. This very new very scary place that he’d only seen photos of. With people constantly roaming around and talking and just making a lot of noise.
The first week or three had been hell. He’d constantly have to tell the people he’d walk past why he’d moved in so late, constantly try to find a way out of 90% of the conversations he had in the hallways and elevator because they got to touchy for his liking. It was exhausting even. Because here, Izuku didn’t feel safe, there were too many people too many different opinions too different reactions to certain things and it was always always so loud. Did it ever get quiet here? No, no it did not. Not in the morning, noon, evening or even night. Izuku had to stuff his head beneath his pillow to try and quiet everything, he avoided the kitchen and common room at all hours except maybe 0200 when most people were up in their bedrooms and not roaming per usual. Everything was so much and Izuku could feel the layers he’d reinforced before moving into the rooms crackle and feel a little deep through the new cracks every day. They cracked and cracked until they reached to last layer.
Izuku was walking a tightrope, looking down while he heard versions of himself screaming at the top of their lungs to look up while he noticed how the line was getting thinner and thinner and he noticed how the ends of the rope, string(?) never seemed to appear. It had taken him so much energy, so much effort to make it through the first month, but it didn’t work and nothing could calm him down. Not even the movie nights the class had every weekend to “cool down”. They weren’t the soap operas and he wasn’t easily talking with his only comfort during it.
It was suffocating and he had no one to turn to, not his friends, not his teachers and certainly not his mom, he couldn’t burden her with more stress than a new schedule. He couldn’t go to his teachers, because he knew that he’d just be told of for being sensitive or emotional and Izuku was not emotional. He made sure of it. But his layers had been cracking for weeks now and he couldn’t ever let them go because there was always always people around. So, Izuku wasnt as shocked as he’d expect when the last seem broke. It was night, 0200, well after that nights movie had ended. This time it had been about some bully, a bully who had a bad home life, so it was exused. Simply because “he didn’t know any better”. Izuku couldn’t keep his eyes on or off the movie constantly switching between a focused and unfocused and it was confusing and hard because he couldn’t focus and he could always focus . He had to, to keep himself under wraps. Not this night though. He’d walked down to the kitchen to get some water. Overwhelmed and hoping that this could help him calm down. Until everything went to shit, someone had come behind him and dropped a glass. A stranger had went behind Izuku. It sent Izuku into a frenzy, who was this? We’re they going to hurt Izuku? Izuku couldn’t handle that. All Izuku could hear was the inappropriate comments of his fathers coworkers, the sounds of ignited nitroglycerin the scratching of his skin, the ghost-scars all over his body, the cat scratches on his thighs and hips, the scraping and pulling on his scalp, the touches, the comments, she everlasting sound and the last crackle in his mind. So, he did all he knew and grabbed the closest object he saw, a knife. It had been used for this nights dinner and was one of the few things left in the sink, Kat-Chan refusing to let anyone else wash it except for him. Izuku knew it was sharp, he’d accidentally cut himself once when he was staying over at his Aunt-Mitsukis place for the night. Izuku knew he was breathing erratically, not enough in not enough out. In in out in out out out in in out in out… And he was gripping the knife like his life depended on it, he could feel the burning sizzling pain of his cheeks and jaw as water flowed down his face and neck, not being wiped of.
“Stay back!” Izuku was standing wide, knife pointed straight at the person ( man?) and waving side to side as though it’d make him back of more. He couldn’t see anything and he wanted his mom , but his mom wasn’t here right now, and there was no one to help from this stranger . The man stood frozen in place, not moving muscle. Then, another person came into the kitchen, grabbing hold of the man and slowly walking back. Hold big one hand out as though it would calm Izuku.
When the pair finally did leave he collapsed, knees close to his chest, head ducked down, shaking back and forth, knife gripped tighter than before, breathing escalating more, whines and sobs coming from his mouth and tears streaming down even quicker with the rapid and furious blinking of Izuku's eyes.
A while went on, Izuku couldn’t tell the time, afraid that if he’d raise his head he’d die, when cautious footsteps entered the kitchen.
“Step back!” He said, peeking up from his knees and extending the knife again, shaking violently. Why couldn’t he focus?! Why couldn’t his eyes stay on the new lanky man in front of him?
Izuku feels something tugging at the knife he’s holding and pushing it to the side, it still being in Izuku's grasp, making his right arm fling with it so his arm is entirely stretched out from his side. Only then does the man step forward, slowly and crouching in front of Izuku. He is saying something but Izuku doesn’t understand it, it all sounding like a meaningless ramble. It goes on for minutes on minutes and Izuku is getting more and more scared of the man, he can’t do anything anymore he’s completely useless and defenseless against the predator. At least that was what Izukus mind told him until his eyes focused on the man for a split second and he could see that it was Aizawa-Sensei. He is saying something, but he can’t tell what. Izuku tries to focus, so much and eventually, albeit after a very very long time, Izuku can make out what his teacher is saying.
“Izuku, can you hear me?”
Nod.
“Good, good, could you try following my breathing?” And his teacher starts breathing in and out while counting. But Izuku still can’t focus and the counting is difficult and it takes so much work and it fogs his brain turning the numbers into one big mush.
After more minutes he could feel his breathing slowing a little again and his eyes focusing again. This time, more people were surrounding him, two people, Kayama-Sensei and the school’s Guidance Counselor Inui-Sensei. He noticed that the knife in his hand had been taken away and his hand was slowly being massaged by the thumbs of Kayama-Sensei's hand, pressing against his palm. It was grounding, and nice, for once he could see his hand fully outstretched. His breath slowing even more.
“Izuku, can you hear me now?” Aizawa-Sensei is still in front of Izuku, not looking like he’s changed much. Inui-Sense is standing in the corner of the room, just listening on what’s happening.
“Yes.” The voice is barely audible, hoarse and stutter at for a few seconds before being able to move forward to the next to letters.
“Good, how about we try breathing another way?”
Nod.
Long in, hold, long out, hold, repeat.
For every breath Izuku takes the more he can see and feel, and after some time, all his senses are back, but he’s tired, incredibly tired, so much so he falls asleep right there in the kitchen. He doesn’t notice the dried blood puddle right beneath where Kayama-Sensei was kneeling, or how the aching of his wrist was different from before or the vertical bleeding scratched on his shins or that one deep cut on his right leg, which had been sliced so that a flap of skin could be peeled of the boys right shin.
-
“Sensei, where’s Midoriya?” Hanta still remembers the terror in Midoriya’s eyes, it terrified him and then he was paralyzed by the shock of having one of Bakugos knives pointed at him. It felt like he stood there for ages, hours. Then Ashido had come to his rescue, glancing between him and the grenette, then placing a hand on his waist pulling him back as she tried to calm the other boy down without making a peep. Then they’d called Aizawa. Who’d called in two other staff, Inui-Sensei who cleaned up the glass that Hanta had dropped when he realized he wasn’t the only one in the kitchen.
“He’s out sick.” The teacher said blankly. Same monotones voice as usual.
“Well, when’s he getting back?”
“Around a week. Go to your lunch now.”
Midoriya’s friend group had been strange, constants worried expressions on their face, even Todoroki, though very very hidden. Maybe they’d heard?
“Hey guys! Do you know where Midoriya is?”
“He’s at home.” Uraraka said. Voice stern and gaze piercing.
“ Sigh never mind.” He muttered to himself and walking to the table his own friends were most likely sitting at.
Everyone is here, except Bakugo. He’d left school early a couple of times the last few weeks, understandably, he did mention his family being close to the Midoriya’s. He probably shouldn’t ask him, he’d most likely be blasted through the sun if he did. Though this doesn’t mean that Hanta doesn’t notice the slightly redder rims around the boys eyes and slight puffiness to them. Also his lack of confidence, it was still there, painfully so, but watered down. It was an odd sight to see.
-
Fuck.
Katauki knew that the soy bottle-looking tape dispenser knew something was up, no shit he was there, Racoon-bitch had also been there. Though they weren’t there for the after effects, thank god, they still knew . Katsuki didn’t know how to feel about that. He’d visited the nerd some times the last few weeks of his hospitalization, and he’d seen the scar, it was still wrapped up, heavily, but he’d accidentally been in the room when they needed to be changed. He almost puked. It was like the same scar had been slashed more than once in the same spot, and he knew about the scars and scratches on Izuku's legs, he knew about the old ones and he’d heard about the new ones from Auntie-Inko. She’s been devastated when she heard about what happened, then she’d called his mom and dad and it turned into a whole thing, they pulled Katsuki out of school for half of that day. Which was unusual, not unheard of though, they were reserved for things like this. He’d slept at home that week, just to process. He’d known that the nerd had been a little on edge and that he never truly relaxed around anyone except his mom. But, he didn’t think it was this bad.
The hospital Izuku was staying at seemed good though, he kept himself occupied and worked through his homework like normal. He’d call with Auntie more frequently and after some time he was accepted visitors. He’d said he was put on some medication and they wanted to keep him a little longer, then slowly letting him go outside on walks, supervised, and in just a week he’d most likely be allowed to attend classes again. Katsuki was happy for Izuku, he knew he hadn’t made the boys life easy and it was stupid of him to act the way he had done, but he was working his way from doing that. One time, when he was visiting he saw Hobo-Sensei talking with Izuku, he’d still walked into the room and went to his normal spot and started working on his homework. The teacher had given him barely a glance and continued discussing whatever it was with Izuku. Then he’d left.
“Wanna watch a movie?”
“What kind of movie?”
“Soap?”
“Okay.”
They’d laid down on Izukus bed and put on a mediocre soap opera that was made something like 20 years ago, but it was one Katsuki knew Izuku liked, because it was his Aunties favorite and she watched it at least 10 times a year.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened?”
“Not really.”
“O-K”
Then after the movie, he’d left, switching of to his Auntie. He really wanted to know what had happened to the nerd. He knew that it was a lot of buildup though, he’d known about his father, bastard , and that the nerd had been acting differently when he moved to the dorms. He’d have to ask…
“Oi, Soy Sauce-face!” And Seros head had snapped up from the couch and honestly, he started sprinting to Katsuki.
“What’s up man?”
“We need to talk.” And so, Katsuki dragged Sero Hanta to his dorm.
“You’re gonna tell me what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you dumb!? Tell me about what happened when Nerd got all freaked out n shit.”
“Well, I dropped a glass, and then he just turned around and started screaming at me to ‘ stay back’ while pointing a knife at me.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“Then Ashido came and called Aizawa-Sensei.”
“Okay.” It must’ve been while they were waiting for Sensei.
“Do you know where Midoriya is? When he’s coming back?” Katsuki stares at the noirette for some time, then sighs while shaking his head.
“He’s at the hospital right now, he should be getting back next week.”
“What do you mean ‘should’?”
“It means, he might not be deemed fit to leave.”
-
The hospital was nice, clean, and the staff seemed to understand what was happening. Though he felt a little sick right now, but he hadn’t thrown up anything so that was considered good. That’s what his doctors said, that some people vomit for the first few weeks and their head might be foggy, might feel a bit empty. Which Izuku did do, though he felt a little bit more fluttery that normal, but that was slowly seeping away with the days. He watched a lot of movies during his stay. Mostly soap-operas, and maybe a few children’s movies that were playing in the lunchroom. Food was nice, better than normal hospital food and it comforted Izuku a little.
Today, was a first half-day. Just a Friday, then he’d return to the dorms and continue school as normal. Well as normal as possible, Aizawa Sensei had come in to talk about what had happened, he’d said that he was worried to what had caused him to react like that and he’d set up meetings with Inui-Sensei to help him feel better. There was a lot of “why’s” during that conversation and there was a lot of answers, which made Izuku feel just a little bit more safe. Then Kat-Chan had come in and Aizawa-Sensei had left fifteen minutes later. Kat-Chan had asked him about what had happened, and frankly, Izuku couldn’t remember half of it. He could remember small slivers of the 4 hours he sat there, he hadn’t remembered switching “the knife hand” and slicing his wrist, he couldn’t remember some things he said or what had caused him to react that way. He did know that he was in the kitchen, and it’d been a long day? Week? Month? Izuku was unsure of the timeframe, but he did know he was exhausted, he had felt that feeling linger in his mind for days after waking up in the hospital. He remembered that he pulled a knife on someone, he remembered which knife it was. He remembered waking up to Kayama-Sensei toying with his left hand, while a thick white fabric held his wrist in place. He didn’t know who he’d pulled a knife on, he didn’t ask, but he’d have to apologize once he got out.