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"Come on, come on! Hurry up!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!"
The dark indigo sky stretches above a sea of green; a light breeze shifts and tugs at the long grass and softens against cheeks. Running; the thump thump thump of footsteps against dirt. Hands grip strands of Canada Ryegrass and Switchgrass and Big Bluestem pushing them away from eyes and limbs and pressing forward a path. Lungs burst and burn from physical exercise, the stars shine high above like a galaxy, a kaleidoscope of gas and space dust. There is no light pollution here and the sky alone is enough to light up their surroundings.
At the edge of a small cliff, a boy pants on his hands and knees.
"You have to be slower," the boy huffs, looking up through his lashes. There, beside him, is a friend.
"Not my fault you're so slow!" the friend whines. "Next time, just run faster okay?"
The boy nods, falling to a sitting position. It shocks his wrists like a spring, his eyes widen and he laughs. "You were right! The sky is pretty from up here!"
"I told ya so," the friend snickers, crossing his arms.
"Oh! Oh! Do you know that constellation? Do you? Do you?"
"Of course I do, dummy! Why wouldn't I!?"
The boy takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes. He's so lucky he has his friend, so, so lucky, isn't he? It's a nice day. It's been a nice day, hasn't it? His friend took him to see the stars, and they were pretty. The stares are pretty. His friend is…such a good friend, he thinks.
He has a question.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" asks the boy.
"Huh? What d'you mean?" asks his friend. He tries to look up into his friend's eyes, but his body refuses.
"You're…not usually this nice to me." says the boy. "Something feels wrong."
"You're just being weird!" His friends tell him, but the boy is unsure.
He looks into his friend's eyes and—
What—
Midoriya Izuku gasps as he wakes up from a deep slumber, brings too much air into his lungs, and then spends three minutes straight choking on his own spit. He tries his best to keep it quiet: his clock says three in the morning and he does not want to worry his mother, who is sleeping in the other room, worn out by her job. He wipes drool from his mouth and sighs.
The fuck.
Leftover threadbare wisps of his dreams quickly fade in his mind; he has little idea what it was about, but he knew for a fact that neither Canada Ryegrass, Switchgrass, or Big Bluestem grew in Japan. His throat burns.
I must be stressed, he ends up telling himself. I don't usually wake up from dreams so suddenly…but…
Tiptoeing into the kitchen, he grabs a plastic cup from the cabinet. He turns the faucet, holding it under.
Yeah, that must be it. It must be stress, he tells himself, because it's really the only reasonable answer for such a dream. It's probably because—because—
The plastic cup slowly fills.
Because… his thoughts trail off, he turns off the faucet. He raises the cup to his mouth, lips parting.
Because… he drinks his newly poured glass of water, tilting his head back, letting the rush of droplets fill into his mouth.
Because… he finishes the cup of water within seconds. He must've been thirsty then, huh?
Because….because….because….I feel like I'm forgetting something.
Izuku rubs his eyes and realizes he's still tired. He's not in any way well-rested. Why would he be? It is three am in the morning, and his first day at—
Oh, he realizes. That's what I was forgetting.
It's three in the morning, and he starts his first day of school at UA later today.
I better go back to sleep, he tells himself. I don't want to oversleep my alarm.
He goes back to sleep.
Aizawa-sensei…might just be one of the scariest people alive, Izuku thinks as he gnaws on his bottom lip. He twists his left hand's fingers between his right and cracks his knuckles as far as they can go; he bites his fingernails and tries his very best to focus on keeping his breathing quiet and calm instead of loud and panicked. There are many nervous tics and bad habits that Izuku has, and they all seem to culminate into one at this very moment. Maybe, waking up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason with nothing but the thought of different tall grass species was a bad omen. Maybe Canada Ryegrass meant bad luck in some cultures…no, that doesn't make any sense. It's grass.
His legs feel like bird bones: hollow and easily breakable. Trembling and shaky and like a wind could blow him over. Come on, Izuku, he finds himself hissing. Get over yourself, come on!
It can't be that hard, can it, to use a Quirk? Right? Millions and millions of people used them every day, there was no doubt Izuku could figure it out in under the span of 24 hours—not even that, more like a singular school day orientation. Too short. Izuku needed time to think, a place to collect himself. A place to gather all of his thoughts together…but he didn't, so he instead ignored everyone else around him and stared at the ground. Thinking.
Was he just going about it all wrong? Or was it something else? Maybe he just wasn't meant for a Quirk after all…
Don't think like that…! A voice in his mind urges, sounding sort of like Yagi-san. And then another voice, sounding a whole lot like Katsuki, tells him to just give up. Speaking of Katsuki, he seems to be having a blast (literally), unlike Izuku.
What test were they on now?
Man, Izuku was out of it today…wasn't he? It must be because he hadn't got enough sleep that night, that must be it. It would also explain how sleepy he's been this entire day, which would explain his inability to think and the fact he's so unreasonably nervous. (Or well, not unreasonably. Anyone would be nervous with expulsion hanging over their heads, but way more nervous than he should be!)
Today he vowed to go to sleep early. He yawns.
Canada Ryegrass, Big Bluestem, Switchgrass—
Izuku's eyes snap open.
I must be tired, he decides, if I'm dreaming while standing up.
Izuku, miraculously, does not get expelled. He makes it out alive and with almost all of his bones intact—which is to say that he shattered two of his fingers compressing a raging ocean into a tiny glass bottle. There must've been a better way, he knew, to do it… there must've! But he was too tired to think so he just went with the first thing that came to mind. Which happened to end in him shattering his fingers. Wonderful.
His mother ends up taking the time out of her day to pick him up—it's just broken fingers, he can manage to get himself home! But since she had heard that Izuku had been hurt she had dropped just about everything to make sure he was okay (much to his chagrin). It's so nice that your mom cares so much for you! Uraraka points out, having decided that she would hang out with him till his mom picked him up. ( I have nothing else to do, really! she insists. Izuku could've gotten home earlier, and his mom would've gladly let him…but he was simply too tired to protest…)
Uraraka asks him if he pulled an all-nighter—she says she was so nervous for today that she only managed to fall asleep late into the night, but he seems to have it worse. Izuku tells her he didn't, because well… he didn't. There was no reason for him to be this tired, considering he got more than enough sleep. Less than ten minutes awake in the middle of the night wouldn't change that, right? Uraraka continues to talk about one thing or another (are they friends? he wonders—), and her voice is soothing to listen to. But…
Midoriya Izuku's eyes droop and he quickly falls into REM sleep 10 minutes later (most people take around 70 minutes to enter their first REM cycle.) Uraraka Ochako had already noticed he had fallen asleep five minutes earlier but decided he deserved the right to rest.
Canada Ryegrass, Switchgrass, Big Bluestem…
The boy pulls at the stems of the tall grass, pinching them between his fingers and pulling the seeds away into his palm. Afterward, he drops them on the ground and begins the process again. Pull, pinch, strip, repeat. It's a repetitive, calming thing. Wind rustles the boy's hair and the stars above shine to a low ever repeating rhythm.
A stuck-out tongue, a squinted eye, squatted with feet firmly planted flat on the ground—undersides of fingernails covered in dirt, scraped knees, and beat-up sneakers. All staples of a joyous boyhood. A light bubbling laughter, floating up into the air just like a balloon. The sound of a rushing river nearby, barely audible from the ambient noise around it and running low due to the heat of summer. There's another noise mixed in there as well, with the whispering winds and the various sounds of wildlife skittering and skittering and skittering.
The boy pauses in his grass stripping, straining his ears to make out the sound. After a few seconds, the boy stands up and starts to run in the direction of the new sound and—-
"Izuku!" Midoriya Inko berates the second her son opens his eyes. "It's rude to fall asleep when you're with friends, you know!"
Izuku rubs his eyes, the wisps of the dream fading away from his mind already. His mind takes a few moments to register the words. Fall asleep…? "I fell asleep?" he asks, because one moment he was listening to Uraraka talk and the next his mother was talking to him.
"Yes. You fell asleep." his mother confirms. "Uraraka-chan was nice enough to not be offended, she said you must've been tired and probably stayed up all night because of the stress of UA. She left a few minutes ago, by the way. She had to catch the train."
"Oh." says Izuku. "But…I got more than enough sleep today."
"I know, Izuku." says his mother. "I would know if you stayed up all night. Why did you fall asleep?"
"I don't know."
"Just make sure not to do it in the future, alright?" Inko tells him, and he nods.
"I'll try."
"Anyways, I'm just glad you're okay," Inko smiles. "When the school called I was so worried for you, you know. How you managed to get injured on the first day is beyond me, but maybe that's just what Hero schools are like, huh?"
Izuku hums. "Can we go home now, Kaa-san?"
"Oh! Yes! Of course. Do you want to stop by Harano on the way?"
At the mention of Harano House and their amazing hot chocolate that was good even in the hot summers, Izuku nodded. "Yes, please."
The next day does not fare Izuku any better than the last. He wakes up at least three times in the middle of the night with a cold sweat and just chalk it up to stress. He almost sleeps past his alarm, and he doesn't even have the pleasure of keeping all his bones intact. This is becoming a recurring problem, he thinks. The bones specifically, not really the sleep issues. Everyone struggles to get a good night's rest occasionally, so it's not anything to worry about. Izuku mostly just zones out as he's berated by multiple people for breaking his bones, something he felt was (nearly) entirely out of his control. You try being Quirkless for 14 years and then suddenly having to control the veritable equivalent of the power of a thousand suns within…about a week and see how it goes! Izuku thinks Yagi-san is cool and awesome, but couldn't he have given Izuku One for All earlier? It'd sure be a lot more convenient if he already knew how to use it by the time he got into UA.
It's like Quirk counselling all over again, except this time around he actually has a Quirk and it's not just him and the counselor staring awkwardly at each other for forty minutes before the Quirk counsellor gets tired and just decides to offer him snacks instead.
Izuku wants to slide out of his skin and revert to a single-celled organism.
Izuku is tired. It's probably because he broke his bones again, paired with a lack of sleep. He yawns—
"Oh, come on Izuku, again!?" The very pissed off (well, not peeved, more like so worried it rounds right back around into angry) voice of his mother cuts in, jerking him back from the edge of his slumber. She's at the edge of the infirmary door with a pinched look on her face. "How you manage to get injured this badly in two days is beyond me, truly."
Midoriya Inko really must have the patience of a saint. If Izuku had himself as a kid, he would properly ship himself off to a far-off family member, as horrible as that sounds. And if he didn't, breaking his bones twice in two days would certainly break the camel's back. Izuku doesn't think he would be able to put up with all the shit he puts his mother through.
Inko pulls out one of those uncomfortable infirmary chairs. She sighs. "You're lucky this was my day off—I would've still left work to come check on you either way, but the point still stands."
Izuku hums.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"Oh? Me?" Izuku responds. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a broken arm that's all."
Midoriya Inko looks at her son with one of the flattest looks a woman can give. "They said you shattered your arm with your Quirk."
Izuku looks away. "I did."
"That's more than just breaking your bones. And breaking your bones is still bad."
Izuku laughs. Awkwardly. "Yeah…but uhm, I'm still okay though. It's not like I broke my neck or something, it's just my arm."
"That doesn't make it any better." Inko tells him. "I'm happy you got a Quirk and all, trust me, but if it breaks your bones every time maybe you should hold off on using it."
"Wha—"
Inko shoots him a look. "If breaking your bones this often becomes a habit god knows what the after effects will be—"
"Doesn't breaking your bones make them grow back stronger, though?" Izuku says, quoting what a doctor told him when he broke his leg when he was five.
"Not if you shatter them every day," Inko replies. "And don't go breaking your bones on purpose either. Stop being a smartass too—"
"Kaa-san!"
"I'm an adult, Izuku, I'm allowed to curse." Inko sniffles. "Anyways, I'm just saying that if your Quirk is going to injure you this badly every time, maybe you should hold off on using it for a while. Maybe your body just needs some time to adjust to it, you know? And it might give you a chance to learn some practical, no Quirk needed skills. Oh, and you won't cause your poor mother a heart attack anymore."
Izuku doesn't want to admit that she has a point, so he stares up at the ceiling and slides down to the edge of the infirmary bed.
Izuku blinks.
He opens his eyes.
He jerks up. Since when…?
"Oh, thank goodness!" Inko says, leaning into his line of vision. The train shakes and bumps and rubs his eyes. "You fell asleep in the infirmary and you wouldn't wake up. Recovery Girl-san told me that you were just tired from the long day and her healing and to just let you sleep. You're getting way too heavy for me to carry you, you know!"
"I'm 15…" Izuku muttered. "You could've just left me in the infirmary."
"I'm your mother," Inko replies. "I'm not going to leave you alone in the infirmary just because you fell asleep."
The next day, miraculously, is rather fine. Izuku gets a decent night's rest and in fact, he gets up earlier than his alarm. He has more time to do something he's been wanting to do for a while in the morning—something he has been doing, but he just didn't have the time to anymore since he kept sleeping till the very end of the alarm. He took a walk. He took a walk and he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the cold morning air on his cheeks and if anything it cleared up his nose too.
It must've woke him up some.
The school day is nice, too. Somewhat. The class appoints him class rep and it makes him so nervous his legs nearly give out from under him. The only other bad thing that happens is the alarms going off. Which Iida, bless his soul, manages to handle relatively well. Well enough that Izuku can get away from dumping all those "class rep" duties onto him. Thank goodness. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Besides, it's not like Iida doesn't want to be class rep anyway.
Speaking of Iida, the boy mentions that it's nice to see you had a good night's sleep, Midoriya-kun! In response, Izuku smiles at him and says that I hope I keep it up. And he probably will, because these sleep problems he's been having are just a temporary thing. Caused by the stress of going to a famous Hero school. It'll go away once he gets more used to it. Surely.
He goes home that day, and his mom congratulates him for not injuring himself. Again. He laughs, and she laughs too, and she tells him that if he has trouble falling asleep tonight she'd be willing to lend him some melatonin.
But it's not that he's having trouble falling asleep, it's more he's having trouble staying asleep.
Then Izuku remembers that he has something to give his mom. "Kaa-san," he says. "There's a field trip on Friday. I need you to sign a form. "
"A field trip, already?" Inko says from where she's preparing some omurice for dinner. "You'd think they'd let you have some time to settle down, huh?"
Inko signs it with little fanfare.
"Are you excited, Deku-kun?" asks Uraraka on Friday, sitting next to him on the bus. It rumbles. "I know I am! I wonder where we're going…they just told us it was a training facility."
"I guess?" Izuku says because he's more focused on the fact his head hurts like hell and he had woken up this morning off the edge of probably one of the worst nightmares of his life. "I mean, UA's pretty big, isn't it? So the place we're going to it's probably also big. If anything, I think we're just going there to learn some foundational knowledge of heroics, most likely."
"Kind of like what we did with All Might-sensei?"
"Most likely." says Izuku. "I doubt they'd bring us on a fieldtrip that's all fun in games."
"Ahhh, either way I'm still excited!" Uraraka exclaims.
And then, the entire bus joins in on the conversation. Somehow, they tease Katsuki without being blown to bits, and the topic rather uncomfortably moves to the topic of Quirks. Miraculously, Izuku manages to change the subject just fine.
If Izuku was excited about this USJ field trip, it had been quickly and brutally squashed into nothingness by the fact that (as Uraraka had put it the following day over the phone) about five minutes after arriving at the building, shit had immediately hit the fan and was flung everywhere like a super morbid modern art piece.
And, because Izuku can never catch a break, he broke an arm doing it too. Except this time it's justified!
Not that it stops his mother from being any less disappointed in him. "Not that I'm not happy that you're okay," she says, her fingers messaging her temples. "But you have to get control over this Quirk of yours…"
"I know…"
"Don't beat yourself up too much, though," she smiles, taking his hand and squeezing it. "You only just got the thing…it's bound to take a while. I think you might benefit from classes…" (He can still hear her murmuring under her breath as they take the train home together: budgets, money, paychecks, and when he looks over to her, she worries her lip and stares forward at her phone.)
The most embarrassing thing about the USJ incident was the way his legs had given out from under him, and he doesn't like thinking about it too much.
His dreams, from then on, tend to be punctuated by disintegrating ground and the itchy feeling of dust in his nose. He wakes up a lot in the middle of the night now; but it must just be the aftermath of a traumatic experience, surely, surely, Izuku would get to return to his days of full night's rest soon enough. Soon enough, he will.
And, because Izuku can never catch a break, the Sports Festival is soon. At least he can be comforted by the fact that the Sports Festival is on campus and there'll be thousands of people, surely not a place for a villain attack, no matter how many scenarios his dreams come up with in the middle of the night.
In the coming days, he finds himself worrying on his lip just like his mother did just a few days ago, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the library table. Uraraka sits across from him, pouring over some book and doing something similar, but he thinks they're doing it for different reasons. Uraraka is worried about an upcoming test, and Izuku is worrying about the fact his limbs are heavy and he hasn't touched One for All in at least a week, the Sports Festival is soon, and every time he closes his eyes he swears a longer amount of time has passed on the clock than the last.
(Maybe, maybe, Hero school just wasn't meant for him. But Izuku's put way too much time and effort into this to quit now, not while he's ahead, even if ahead is more like desperately keeping up with the pack, his fingernails bleeding as they dig into the dirt and rocks. Sunk cost fallacy.)
He chews his pen and sighs.
What to do if you can't stay asleep, sits typed out neatly in his search bar. The results aren't what he's looking for—what to do if you can't fall asleep, but that's not the problem he's having. The problem is that he falls asleep too easily and wakes up too easily and it constantly feels like he hasn't slept in at least a week, even though he's probably slept enough in one day to cover two. This is becoming a problem, he thinks, and the Sports Festival is tomorrow…
The sleep issues are forgotten—he has better things to worry about. He just had to give it time, time was what he needed. Surely.
He gets intercepted by Yagi-san before the Sports Festival starts. A worried look sits hard on his mentor's face, and he asks if he'll come eat breakfast with him. He says yes, because he would never say no to Yagi-san—Yagi-san was possibly the best thing to happen to Izuku in years, and he was going to hang onto him for as long as the older man would let him. Until he got annoyed and eventually told him to back off, like most people did.
"Are you sure you should compete?" is what Yagi-san asks him over their breakfast, and Izuku nearly spits out his drink of water. He swallows it instead, forcing it past the lump in his throat.
"What?"
"It's just…" Yagi-san leans back. "You've seemed pretty tired lately, even now…have you been getting a good night's rest? Something keeping you up at night? It wouldn't be surprising, considering all that's been happening."
"Uhm, no. Actually." Izuku says, and it's not a lie. "I haven't been having trouble getting to sleep…I've just been waking up in the night, but it hasn't been keeping me up."
"The bags under your eyes say otherwise."
Izuku blinks, and it feels like he just woke up. Even though he woke up ages ago…keeping his head up felt more and more like a chore with each hour that passed.
"I'm fine to compete," Izuku insists. "I need to make a name for myself, don't I?"
"Not at the cost of yourself." Yagi-san's eyes bore into him and Izuku kind-of sort-of wants to wither away under his glare. It's not even hostile, it's just worried, and Izuku hates worrying people—he hates worrying his mother, and he especially hates worrying Yagi-san.
"I'll be fine, I promise."
"Are you sure?" Yagi-san asks, and Izuku feels a little bad.
"I'm sure."
"Alright then." Yagi-san concedes. "But don't go breaking any more limbs, okay?"
Izuku breaks more limbs. In fact, this experience goes right into second place of how many bones Izuku has broken in one day. Entrance exams still take the cake. It's worth it, though, but it doesn't stop his mothers seething and Yagi-san's disappointed sigh. He would rather they scream at him. But they don't.
Instead, his mother bombards Recovery Girl with question after question and Yagi-san asks him if he's feeling okay. After a while, they both get kicked out, and Recovery Girl does yell at him.
When Todoroki-kun enters, Izuku is hoping to be yelled at by him too. It's better, he thinks, than being worried. And while Todoroki-kun isn't worried, he doesn't yell, he just asks for his number and Izuku gives it to him. Izuku, at the end of the day, does prefer that over both worrying and being yelled at. Being treated normally feels better, he thinks. In return, Izuku impulsively tells him that if he wants to play video games at his place, he's more than willing to.
Izuku is feeling tired now, so he leans back down in the infirmary bed and closes his eyes. When he opens them, it's evening, and his mother has already come to pick him up.
"I borrowed Mitsuki-chan's car," she says. "So we'll be taking that instead of the train."
Thank god, Izuku thinks, because public transportation after the Sports Festival was bound to be horrible. Of course, trains would always be the most efficient mode of transport in Japan, but the thought of all the crowds makes him shudder. Izuku would rather take the traffic.
Izuku sleeps through the next two days. Uraraka texts him, asking if he's feeling fine. When he falls asleep again and doesn't answer, he wakes up to another text— Are you ignoring me? It's fine if you are, I don't mind. I just want a straight answer.
He tells her straight: I fell asleep. He knows how much that sounds like a lie, but it's the truth.
He gets similar messages from a variety of other people that he didn't even know had his number, but he's too tired to dwell on them.
The next day, school starts back up again. They choose Hero names and Izuku falls asleep at his desk while Kayama-sensei passes out packets of internship choices. No one bothers to wake him up until the next period— you looked like you needed sleep, they say. He hums in response.
After that, he gets intercepted (yet again) by Yagi-san, who tells him about a man named Gran Torino who is willing to mentor him for the week. Izuku thanks him, and yawns.
About a day before they're sent to go to internships, Izuku is held back after class by Aizawa-sensei, which is more than a little bit terrifying. (Uraraka giggles and wishes him luck out the door. It seems she had believed his answer from a few days ago, not surprising, she had said, are you sure your Quirk isn't sleeping?)
He sweats and pulls at his collar, suddenly uncomfortable and overheating. This is it, he thinks. I'm so expelled.
"Have you been sleeping well?" is what he's asked instead.
"Why…why do you ask?" he ends up responding instead of answering with a yes or no. It's way too complicated, anyway.
"I'm your homeroom teacher, it's my job to look after my students." And while Aizawa-sensei does look out for his students, it often feels more like a distant guardian angel than talking to a school counselor. Right now, Izuku feels like he's talking to a school counselor…and UA already had one of those, and it's not Aizawa-sensei. "Now, I'll ask again: have you been sleeping well?"
"Yeah," he says, and technically it's the truth. He gets 8 hours of sleep per day, just ask his mother.
"...Are you really going to lie to me, Midoriya?"
"I'm not lying," Izuku insists, because he isn't. He isn't lying. His fingernails dig into his palms—sweaty and yet dry at the same time.
"Every single one of your teachers have reported you falling asleep in their classes," says Aizawa-sensei. "Your friends and classmates have expressed worry to various faculty about you. So, I'm going to one more time, and you're going to tell me the truth: have you been sleeping well?"
Izuku bites his lip, taps his foot, gnaws on his lip, and looks everywhere but at his homeroom teacher. He focuses on the buzzing lights and the door instead. "...I promise you that I'm not lying…" he insists once more. "You can ask my mom…she worries about me, she would know if I was having trouble sleeping…"
He pauses. Izuku, objectively knows that he has a problem. With sleeping. It's a problem he hasn't had before, and it's a weird problem that he honestly doesn't like to think about. A problem he hasn't gone to anyone about because every time he considers it his throat locks up and his ears go hot. However, here is Aizawa-sensei, offering a hand.
And maybe, it's easier because Aizawa-sensei is a bit more detached than say his mother or Yagi-san, less personal.
And maybe that's why Izuku finally admits it— he has a problem.
"I'm going to be honest—" he nearly chokes on his words, but pushes through, because he knows that the only way he's going to get help for this is if he actually tells someone. "I feel like I sleep too much sometimes…you know?"
"Go on."
"...And I keep having these super vivid dreams I haven't had before…and I sometimes forget stuff too. To be completely transparent, I can't remember most of my classmates' names." he says.
"We're well into the year. You'd think you'd know them by now."
"Yeah, I'd think so too." he laughs. "And I keep waking up in the middle of the night, but only for a few minutes each. I always feel tired no matter what I do. I tried taking some melatonin, and it helped. But I still passed out during the day. Sometimes, it feels like I've lost control of my limbs. It's a bit stressful."
"It sounds like you have a problem." says Aizawa-sensei.
No shit, Izuku wants to say.
"The kind of problem people go to the doctor for. Why haven't you gone yet?"
"... Because I was ignoring it," he mumbles under his breath.
"Louder. I can't hear you."
"Because I was ignoring it." he says. "I was hoping that it was just a temporary thing…That it would go away eventually. 'Cuz it only started once I entered UA…so, I thought it was a stressful thing. That it would stop once I got used to going here."
"I'm not a doctor," says Aizawa-sensei. "So I can't comment. But you should go to one. Thank you for telling the truth."
"You're welcome."
"Will you be telling your mother about this?" he asks. "She's your guardian, after all."
As much as Izuku wants to say he will, he knows he can't trust himself to hold true to his word. "Can—can you tell her for me, actually? I don't…I don't want to worry her."
"It can be argued that having me tell her will just worry her more."
"...It's easier than me having to tell her it to her face."
Aizawa-sensei sighs. "I guess you do have a point. The human mind can be truly irrational, at times. I'll make sure to do that when the day is over. Is there anything else you want to talk about, while we're here?"
When he gets home that day, his mother tells him to sit down at the dinner table— we need to talk, she says.
And they talk. "I wish you told me sooner, and I wish you had told me yourself," she says. "But I understand. Sometimes it's hard to tell your parents things. I'll set an appointment for after your internships, how does that sound?"
"Yeah, that sounds fine," Izuku says, his voice cracking. She smiles and opens her arms, then they hug. He cries, she cries. They pull apart, she tells him that she's proud of him for admitting that he needs help, and he cries even harder.
And Izuku goes to bed and still has the same sleep problems he's been having. He dreams of an indigo sky, grass, blurry faces, and disintegrating ground. He wakes up at least three times throughout the night, but, at least, he has the comfort that soon, something will be done about it.