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Izuku, along with Kacchan and Kirishima, had just left the training field, where they had been doing some early-morning sparring before class, when an unfamiliar girl bumped into him. Both tumbled to the ground.
Panicking, Izuku scrambled to his feet as fast as possible, getting into a battle stance before he had even processed what had happened.
“Hey, chillax, bro, she’s not an enemy,” Kirishima said, putting his hand on Izuku’s shoulder.
Izuku took a deep breath to calm himself down. Damn war; even though it was over and he was back at school, he still was reacting as though he were on a battlefield! Izuku wasn’t the only one, though—Kirishima’s other hand was on Kacchan’s shoulder, similarly preventing him from blasting the girl.
“S-sorry!” The girl said as she stood, looking away and face red. “I’m so, so sorry… Um. It’ll wear off in six hours!” With no further explanation, she hurried off towards the training field.
As the three boys watched her run and wondered what she meant, Todoroki, who had also been at the training field but had been working on creating some new hybrid fire and ice abilities on his own, joined them, and as they began to head back to their dorm for breakfast commented, “Wasn’t that the first-year with the truth quirk?”
Izuku tensed and froze. “Truth quirk?” he asked. Oh no. No, no, no. “Please tell me by that you mean it’s a lie detector or something,” he practically begged. The girl had apologized and given him the wear-off time, meaning…
Todoroki winced as he and Kacchan paused too. “She hit you, huh? From what I hear, it makes you tell the truth.”
“Ugh, just what I need,” Izuku muttered as they continued walking. “Got any more details? Like, do half-truths count? Do I actively need to try to lie, or does it activate even if I try not to give any answer?”
“Why, do you plan to lie a lot?” Kacchan said teasingly.
“Of course yes!” Izuku said, then frowned. “Wait. I meant to say ‘of course not’...? Um. I didn’t think I was lying?” he said at his friends’ surprised and questioning expressions.
“So it can make you tell the truth even when you don’t realize you were lying,” Todoroki concluded.
“What do you lie about?” Kacchan asked with suspicion.
Izuku tried to stay calm and not blurt anything incriminating out. “Just, uh, the same things other people do? You know, ‘yes that shirt looks good on you’, ‘happy to help with chores’, ‘this food is delicious’, et cetera.” He waited for the quirk to make him continue, and inwardly sighed in relief when it didn’t. Conclusion: half-truths counted. Maybe he could get through this without revealing anything that would worry his friends—particularly the fact that after the war he’d severely relapsed on a very bad habit that he’d developed back in middle-school.
“Yeah, everyone lies!” Kirishima proclaimed. “Like, imagine what society would be like without it?”
“Bad,” Todoroki immediately concluded, then at the curious looks further explained, “We would’ve lost the war, since Hawks wouldn’t have been able to infiltrate the Paranormal Liberation Army. It’s only because of him that we were able to prepare ahead of time.”
“Yeah,” Izuku said, nibbling his lip slightly, mood dropping at the reminder of the war. His mood had already been somewhat low upon waking that day, thinking too much about the past after some nightmares; he didn’t want more reminders of it.
Thankfully, they reached the dorm before the conversation could continue.
Not thankfully, when the four entered, they were greeted by a cheerful Uraraka saying, “Hey boys! How are you feeling today?” She was sitting in the lounge area along with the other girls from class 1A—wait, no, 2A now, they were in second year, which even a month in still felt surreal.
“Good, you?” “Same as always,” “Pretty good,” “Bad”, came the responses to the standard greeting.
“Great! Wait,” Uraraka said, frowning. “One of those responses wasn’t quite right…”
Izuku winced. “Sorry; some first-year hit me with a truth quirk,” he explained. Since she’d inevitably ask him why he felt bad, he added, “I didn’t sleep well.” A half-truth that thankfully placated the truth quirk, at least for now.
Uraraka nodded in understanding. None of them were strangers to nightmares after the war. “Yeah, I get it; I dreamed about Toga again last night,” she revealed.
“Ouch,” Izuku commented. “Yeah, mine was about the war too.” He honestly didn’t particularly recall what specifically the nightmares were about, but exaggerated memories of the war appeared in at least one nightmare per night, and he’d woken up thinking about the past, so he figured that was a safe bet—which the truth quirk confirmed. Other common themes were middle school, being kicked out of UA for various reasons, his friends and family all dying, and…
“Okay! Enough war talk,” Kacchan declared. “I got stuck with making breakfast for everyone, and they’ll be pissed off if it’s not ready by the time everyone gets down here. De—Izuku, you’re helping!”
“I told you, if you still want to call me Deku, that’s fine,” Izuku said as they headed into the kitchen. He was used to the nickname, and didn’t want to inconvenience Kacchan, even though he did like it when the blond used his given name. The first time Kacchan had used it had been the moment that Izuku had truly felt that their friendship had finally recovered.
Kacchan frowned, then his mouth twisted into a sly smile. “But which do you prefer?” he asked, clearly taking advantage of the truth quirk.
“Izuku,” came the immediate answer, and Izuku blushed. “Hey, that’s cheating!” He then frowned. “What about you, then? Is it still okay to call you ‘Kacchan’?”
“Of course.”
“You sure?”
“That’s what I said,” Kacchan said rather aggressively, then sheepishly added with a slight uncharacteristic blush, “I, er, actually like that you still use it.”
Izuku grinned happily, his mood instantly boosted. He was thankful that the quirk seemed to only apply to questions that were asked, and didn’t cause him to blurt out whatever was on his mind, as otherwise he’d be declaring something like ‘Kacchan looks adorable!’
Unfortunately, that boost in mood didn’t last long, as Kacchan put Izuku in charge of cutting vegetables for the western-style omelettes while he prepared the egg and meat parts of it. Izuku wished that they could just eat cereal with milk or kakegohan for breakfast like they had prior to attending UA, but he understood that although those breakfasts were easier they weren’t as good for building muscles as the high-protein breakfasts that UA encouraged them to eat—after all, Heroes needed lots of strength and energy.
Of course, Kacchan didn’t know that cutting vegetables was the worst task he could have given Izuku, especially at that moment. No one had any idea. Izuku himself didn’t fully realize it until he was holding the knife, slicing the onion. But that old middle-school habit he’d relapsed on? That involved a knife. A pocket knife, but still a knife. It always crossed Izuku’s mind when he used one, but that morning The Urge was especially strong—it had been so since waking, and Izuku knew that there would be a high chance of relapsing sometime that day; he just expected it would be in his room later, not now. But the knife that was currently in his hand was so tempting…
“Yo, you done, nerd?” Kacchan suddenly asked while he whisked the eggs.
“Um. Yes,” Izuki said, realizing that he had in fact finished cutting the onions. He was frozen though, his heart throbbing and mind racing as he tried to loosen the grip on the knife, which his body didn’t seem to want to do. It was either stay frozen, or cut himself. Those were the options. Why they were the only two options, Izuku wasn’t sure, but that’s what his brain kept insisting. Two options: don’t move, or take the knife to his skin.
Kacchan looked at Izuku in clear confusion. “Then why aren’t you moving?”
“Because I’m trying to resist digging the knife into my arm,” Izuku blurted out, then gritted his teeth and growled, “damn truth quirk!”
Kacchan fell silent as he processed what he’d just heard. “What?” he asked, clearly unsure if he’d heard correctly.
“I’m trying to resist digging the knife into my arm,” Izuku repeated.
Kacchan suddenly dropped the whisk into the bowl of eggs and lunged over to Izuku, grabbing the knife out of his hand. He tossed it towards the sink, but it fell short and instead landed in the bowl of eggs, which then slid to the floor with a crash, although Kacchan didn’t seem to notice this.
Izuku closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, still unable to move; he had been dreading the moment someone found out about this craving, and of all people who could have, it just had to have been Kacchan.
Kacchan put his hand on Izuku’s shoulder and spun him to face him, then put his other hand on the other shoulder. Izuku opened his eyes, and looked into Kacchan’s. The only other time Izuku had seen such a worried expression on Kacchan had been during Izuku’s small vigilante stint, when he convinced him to return to school. “How often does this happen?” Kacchan demanded in a whisper.
Izuku opened his mouth to say that it was rare, but instead he said, “Every time.” He winced; he hadn’t realized it was quite that bad, but the truth quirk somehow knew what Izuku hadn’t.
Kacchan’s eyes widened in surprise, then his expression shifted to one of anger. “Okay, you are officially banned from vegetable cutting!” he declared. Then, he frowned and asked more gently, “Have you ever…” he shifted nervously, “Have you ever, you know, done it? Cut yourself?” His expression was pained, as if begging Izuku to deny his suspicion.
Izuku closed his eyes, feeling exhausted and wanting the conversation to end. He’d prefer not to answer, trying to fight the response, but instead he said a quiet “yes”. Well, that answered his question of if the quirk actively forced him to say something when asked a question.
“How many times?”
“One thousand seventy-four times,” Izuku answered without thinking, then frowned, distracted by what the answer implied. “Huh, that’s weird; I didn’t specifically keep count… You know, that truth quirk could be extremely useful outside of Hero work, like for police investigations or to help people remember stuff they don’t even remember! Wait, can it work for math? Kacchan, ask me a math question!”
“What? No, you’re trying to change the subject!”
“Please, Kacchan?”
Kacchan rolled his eyes. “Fine; what’s the factorial of 42 minus 500 divided by cosine of 64?”
“Um… I don’t know. Did we even learn factorials?” Izuku replied. He surely would have remembered if they had. Kacchan must have read ahead in the second-year textbook, as Izuku doubted that Kacchan would seek out additional math books.
“Okay, then 17 times 21.”
“357,” Izuku replied immediately.
“So it looks like if it’s a problem you know how to solve on your own, you’ll give the answer immediately, but if you don’t know, you won’t give the answer,” Kacchan concluded. “So then—wait a damn second! Deku—I mean, Izuku—, don’t think I’ve forgotten that ‘1074 times’!” He was practically yelling by the end.
At that moment, another one of the people that Izuku least wanted to know about The Urge walked in: Aizawa-sensei.
“Problem Children,” Aizawa said tiredly, clearly having just woken up (he now had a room in the dorm, as it was deemed the students needed more supervision than originally anticipated after one too many incidents). He blinked a couple times as he looked at the scene, which consisted of the bowl of eggs upside-down on the floor, eggs splattered across the floor and cabinet with the whisk and knife in the center of them, ignored by the two boys. “I heard shouting. Is everything okay in here?”
“Ye-No,” Izuku said, the quirk correcting him.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Okay… Elaborate.”
Izuku resigned himself to having to answer. “I got hit by that first-year girl’s truth quirk, so I have to tell the truth about everything. It’s become… problematic.” Izuku internally congratulated himself for tricking the quirk into not revealing much.
Of course, Kacchan then had to blow that out of the water. “The quirk made Izuku reveal that he self-harms,” he told the teacher. When Izuku shot him a look of betrayal he shrugged and said, voice lacking emotion in a manner scarily similar to Todoroki, “Sorry, but this isn’t something that can stay a secret—besides, he’d just have pried more, which would have revealed it anyway.”
Izuku frowned, but didn’t protest—Kacchan was right, it would’ve likely been revealed anyway. He shouldn’t be angry at Kacchan for that. Not that he had to like it though; this revelation was going to have consequences, although Izuku didn’t know what those would be. They wouldn’t expel him for it, would they?
Oh fuck, they were going to expel him for this.
Aizawa’s eyes widened in surprise before his expression turned into one that was sad yet stoic. He opened his mouth to say something.
Izuku ran.
He wasn’t sure how he managed to get past his teacher; maybe it was because he used the embers of One for All to boost his speed. He knew its number of uses was limited, that he shouldn’t use it just to run to his room, but he wasn’t thinking very logically at the moment. He vaguely heard two shouts of his name and footsteps following him, but he was too fast, and before they could catch up he was already in his room.
Izuku slammed the door, barely remembering to lock it. He took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts.
Before he could, The Urge reared its head, worse than it had been in a long while.
Barely aware of what he was doing, Izuku pulled his desk drawer open hard enough for it to crack and grabbed his pocket knife, internally sighing in relief as he snapped it open to reveal the blade, the cool metal of the handle soothing in his hands.
It was impulsive as all Hell, Izuku knew that, but he just HAD TO satisfy The Urge NOW, because they’d take the knife away, and then he wouldn’t be able to satiate it until he found something else…
Izuku froze for a moment, realizing what he was about to do. Aizawa and Kacchan were on their way, for goodness sake!
Izuku then decided that he didn’t care, that the need to placate The Urge was too great, and slashed the blade across the skin of his forearm. He typically did it on his thigh nowadays, but he didn’t have time to remove his pants, since if he didn’t do this immediately then they would stop him.
Banging on the room’s door was joined by a voice. “Izuku, open this fucking door!” Kacchan yelled, then jiggled the handle sightly, testing if it were locked or not.
“No!” Izuku yelled back, adding another line. Deeper than usual, but the pain felt so good! He sighed in relief as some of the pressure he’d been feeling faded, The Urge temporarily soothed.
“Bakugou, you need to be gentle,” Aizawa chided. “Problem Child. What are you doing right now?”
“What I need to do,” Izuku said, vaguely realizing that he pretty much sounded like an addict. Was one, actually, come to think of it. He’d never thought of it that way before, but it was true, wasn’t it?
Deciding to worry about that later, Izuku added another cut, even deeper this time. Yet, The Urge was still not happy; each cut soothed it slightly but never placated it. He had to do more, more, more, MORE!
“What is it you need to do?” Aizawa asked, sounding like he was trying to remain calm but having trouble hiding his panic.
“Cut myself,” Izuku couldn’t help but answer, adding another deep one. The sting felt so good… Izuku vaguely realized that he was feeling slightly lightheaded, and the blood was rapidly forming a concerningly large pool by his feet as it dripped off of his arm. Black spots danced across his vision. He felt high, a sense of euphoria and adrenaline washing over him. The Urge was finally satisfied… but at what cost?
Izuku felt a sudden surge of panic. Was he going to die? He didn’t want to die! He’d gone too far this time, and was bleeding out. No, no, no, this wasn’t what he wanted…
A loud explosion caused the door to collapse, and Kacchan and Aizawa rushed in followed by the smell of burnt caramel, both yelling his name.
“I need help,” Izuku muttered weakly, unsure if it was even audible and barely registering someone catching him as he fell, head spinning. He wasn’t sure who was commanding the other to wrap the wounds, or telling him to stay awake as they scooped him into their arms, carrying him somewhere.
Izuku couldn’t stay awake.
Izuku woke to bright lights. “Am I dead?” he muttered.
“No, idiot! Not for lack of trying!” someone angrily scolded him. Kacchan came into focus, his glare strong enough to kill.
“I wasn’t trying to die,” Izuku said automatically, realizing that he was in the too-familiar UA infirmary, though he struggled to remember why he was here. Likely something having to do with the bandage wound tightly around his left arm. “I’m not like that anymore.”
“Could’ve fooled me!”
“Bakugou,” came another voice, and Izuku saw Aizawa there, putting a hand on the blond’s shoulder. “It’s not the time for anger.” He turned to Izuku. “Recovery Girl just finished healing your cuts as much as she could. The wounds are closed, but you still need to be careful, and the deeper ones will likely scar significantly.”
Scars? What—oh. It came rushing back to Izuku, and he felt himself blush in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“So you remember,” Bakugou said tersely, clearly holding back anger. “Then, tell me: Why the hell would you slice up your arm like that?! Do you have a death wish?!” His voice rose again at the end, clearly unable to hold back the anger.
Izuku winced. “I didn’t mean to cut that deep. I don’t want to die. I just wanted to feel some relief.” Why was he saying that? He should be hiding that. He shouldn’t need pain to feel relief; it was a shameful secret… Oh, right. The truth quirk must still be active. “Was I out long?” he asked, trying to change the conversation’s direction.
“Maybe twenty minutes, if that,” Aizawa said. Damn; that meant another, what, four hours until the quirk wore off? Five? How long had that episode taken? He glanced at the clock, noting that it had been… only 53 minutes since he’d been hit by the quirk. Somehow it had felt much longer than that.
“Do you really mean it when you say you don’t want to die?” Kacchan asked quietly, his anger apparently more under control although his posture was tense. The unabrasive tone felt out of place for him.
“Yeah. I can’t lie, remember?” Izuku reminded him, sitting up in the bed; he noticed Aizawa’s hand rested on his capture scarf, likely ready in case Izuku tried to run again, but he had no intention to. He vaguely registered Recovery Girl and Hound Dog quietly entering the infirmary.
Kacchan’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Good,” he said. “You… you really scared me,” he revealed, looking more vulnerable than Izuku had seen him in many years.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku said again, arms at his sides and clutching the bedsheets tightly. He had been laying on top of them, but they were still just loose enough to grab. “I didn’t mean to go that deep,” he said again, knowing that the truth quirk would ensure they knew he wasn’t lying about that.
“Then why did you?” Kacchan asked; apparently Aizawa was going to let him lead the discussion.
Izuku shrugged. “I don’t—” The truth quirk stopped him and he began to explain. “I lost control.”
“Lost control?”
“Yes.”
“Control of what?” Kacchan asked, seeming very confused.
“The Urge.” Thankfully, the quirk let Izuku answer very simply, not revealing more information than he would like to.
Kacchan just looked at Izuku with a puzzled expression.
“Explain,” Aizawa directed Izuku.
‘Well, so much for not revealing much,’ Izuku thought, then proceeded to explain. “I just get this Urge sometimes. There’s no real reason. I mean, there used to be, I used to have times where I’d shut down and feel numb, which it helped with, and even though I knew it was bad I also thought I deserved it anyway, but then I came to UA, and things got better, but then I started doing it again, I guess because of the stress from the war, and it just felt so good, and now even if I’m not feeling numb or particularly sad this Urge pops up, it sometimes gets so bad that I can’t focus, today it was so bad that when I picked up the knife when cutting vegetables I almost did it right then and there… I don’t know why The Urge was there, it just was, since I woke up this morning. And it feels so good when I do it, even though I know it’s wrong. Why does it feel so good?” Izuku felt tears welling up in his eyes.
“It’s an addiction,” Hound Dog said bluntly. When had he and Recovery Girl joined them?
“Yeah,” Izuku admitted, having realized that earlier. “And The Urge gets worse the more I try to stop.”
“That does tend to be how addiction often works,” Aizawa pointed out. “But you’ll get through this, kid.”
Izuku was quiet for a brief moment. “Will I?” he then asked.
Aizawa nodded. “It’ll be difficult, I won’t sugar coat that. There will even be relapses. But hopefully your mandatory therapy sessions with Hound Dog will help—honestly, we probably should have mandated that immediately after the war, with all the trauma you went through.” He then added in a mutter, “Hell, the whole Hero Course probably needed it starting from the USJ incident.”
Izuku winced. “I don’t want to go to therapy,” he said bluntly, unable to help it—he’d wanted to say ‘okay, fine’ first, but the truth quirk had corrected him.
Hound Dog chuckled. “Yes, I figured that. But it won’t be as bad as you think, I promise. It will help with this Urge of yours, for one. You want that gone, correct?”
Izuku sighed in resignation. “Yeah, I do. It’s not there right now, since I… since I gave into it, but it’ll probably return.”
Hound Dog nodded. “We’ll talk about some strategies to resist it in our first session, which will be tomorrow morning.”
Izuku frowned. “Tomorrow?” He would have thought they’d want him under the truth quirk for it.
Inui caught the unasked question. “Yes, tomorrow before class—you have a lot of trauma in your past, and I don’t want you to be forced into talking about anything you aren’t ready to talk about yet.”
“Oh. Thank you,” Izuku said, not expecting that.
“But,” Hound Dog continued, “Before I go, can you first promise me that when this Urge does return you’ll please tell someone? All of your teachers would be willing to lend a listening ear, and I’m sure you have some trusted friends who would be happy to listen, too.”
Instead of agreeing, Izuku said, “I can’t promise that,” then winced. Stupid quirk. So he added, “But I’ll try my best,” the quirk backing up this resolution, to his relief.
Aizawa nodded. “That’s all we ask, kid. Again, we’re all here for you.”
“I know,” Izuku said, surprised that the quirk didn’t correct him; just a year ago, he wouldn’t have known that. Something warm bloomed in his heart as he realized that he could actually trust his teachers, something he hadn’t been able to do before UA. Then he shifted nervously as he realized something else. “Um. Are you going to keep me on suicide watch or something?” he wondered. “Since I went so deep?”
“You’re still under the truth quirk’s effects, right?” Hound Dog asked.
Izuku nodded.
“Are you actively suicidal?”
“No. I haven’t been for a while,” Izuku said honestly.
“Then, there’s no need,” Hound Dog concluded, and Izuku felt immense relief.
“But we will be clearing your room of all knives and sharp objects,” Aizawa warned.
“Yeah, I figured,” Izuku said. Technically he wasn't supposed to have a pocket knife in his dorn to begin with.
“Wait. You said ‘for a while’?” Kacchan caught, frowning. “Does that mean you were suicidal at one point?”
Izuku winced; he had momentarily forgotten Kacchan was there, too. He tried not to answer, but couldn’t help but say, “yes.”
“When?” Kacchan asked, voice barely more than a whisper, looking scared.
“Middle school,” Izuku said, looking away. “I don’t blame you,” he added, thankful that the quirk didn’t correct him; for all he knew subconsciously he had, even though he’d long ago forgiven Kacchan for his middle-school antics.
“But… I still played a part,” Kacchan said sadly. “Didn’t I?”
“N-yes. But I forgive you!” Izuku hurriedly added.
Kacchan winced. “I know you’re being truthful, but you really shouldn’t forgive me that easily…”
“Why not? You’re sorry for what you did, right?”
“Well, yeah, of course!”
“And won’t do it again?”
“Never.”
“Then, I forgive you.”
“But—”
“Kacchan,” Izuku said firmly, cutting Kacchan off before he could argue more. “It’s all in the past. You literally were impaled trying to save me. Pretty sure that makes up for all the shit you did back then.”
“Yeah, but still…”
Hound Dog cleared his throat. “Sounds like these are things that we need to address—Bakugou, after hearing that, you will be scheduling a session with me too, and the two of you will have at least one session together. No arguments!” he added when both opened their mouths with clear intent to argue.
“Fine,” both boys muttered in angry resignation. Izuku realized he couldn’t get out of this; besides, it would probably be good for them to have an actual conversation about middle school. There had been apologies and forgiveness, but nothing deep, nothing laying out the extent of the trauma caused and the full consequences of it.
“Can I go now?” Izuku asked, looking towards Recovery Girl.
Hound Dog continued, “Given you’re under the truth quirk’s effects, I see no reason to hold you for observation.”
Recovery Girl nodded. “Your wounds are healed as much as I can do right now with your current energy level; other than those cuts, you’re in good shape, so there’s no reason to keep you here. Try not to be too rough with that arm for a couple days, and make sure to eat full meals to make up for the blood loss.”
Izuku nodded. “Okay, I will… try.” He hadn’t meant to add the last word, but it was true that the best he could do was try—there was no guarantee that a villain wouldn’t attack and require him to use the arm to fight.
“Good,” Recovery Girl said with a firm nod. “Now, I better not see you in here for something like this again!” she scolded.
“You probably will,” Izuku said, then froze. “I-I’m sorry!” he stammered.
Recovery Girl sighed. “Well, do your best to try not to. Can you do that at least?” she asked gently, surprising Izuku—usually she was a bit harsher. If Toga weren’t dead, Izuku might have suspected an imposter.
“I can do that,” Izuku replied.
Aizawa sighed. “Okay. Let’s get you to class, then,” he said. Then he eyed their training outfits and amended, “After you change into your uniforms.”
Izuku winced. Right, class. “Do I have to go?” he asked. “It’s already halfway through homeroom, right? Wait… Who’s teaching homeroom?” he wondered, realizing the homeroom teacher was here with him.
Aizawa winced. “Yagi—I mean, All Might is covering for me…” he trailed, then muttered, “All the more reason to get going.”
“Wait,” Kacchan said. “I have another question: you said you’ve been… h-hurting yourself… for a while. Where? Because it sure as hell isn’t your arms.”
Izuku grimaced. “Thigh,” he reluctantly admitted.
Kacchan grumbled, “Of course it is,” in response, to Izuku’s confusion. Then he added, sounding like it was more to himself, “Fine. It’ll be awkward, but it’s necessary.”
“What are you talking about?” Izuku asked, confused. “What’s awkward?”
“I’ll be checking you periodically for new c—” Kacchan cleared his throat as it had clenched up. “N-new c-cuts,” he stuttered out with difficulty. “So don’t let me find any!” he finished in his usual highly-aggressive tone.
“You wo—I can’t promise you won’t,” Izuku said, once again unable to lie. “But I’ll do my best.” He was thankful to find that that was indeed the truth.
“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that,” Kacchan warned. “Now—”
Hound Dog cleared his throat, interrupting the blond. “Bakugou. Please refrain from any more personal questions until the quirk has worn off.”
Izuku inwardly sighed in relief; he didn’t have any more deep secrets, at least as far as he was aware of, but it was still uncomfortable being forced to answer. He then realized a new issue, and paled. “Um. Permission to skip class today?” he asked.
Aizawa, who had stood in preparation to leave, simply asked flatly, “Why.”
Izuku shifted uncomfortably. “Um. I’ll still be under the influence of the truth quirk for a while, and I’m sure my classmates will have many questions that I’m not ready to answer yet.” Especially since some had undoubtedly been in the common area when he had been carried through it covered in blood.
Aizawa had a look of understanding. “Permission granted,” he said, to Izuku’s surprise—he’d half expected an argument. “I’ll tell the class there was a quirk-related incident, and not to worry.”
“Thank you,” Izuku said, though he knew some definitely would be worrying. He’d likely have to dispel some rumors later, and might even have to come clean to everyone. Izuku tried not to think about that too much, lest he panic and incite The Urge again.
“Aww!” came a coo from the doorway, and Izuku sleepily blinked open his eyes, trying to figure out what had happened. He was leaning on something warm—no, somebody, and that somebody had their arm wrapped around his shoulders…
Izuku blushed vigorously and abruptly sat up, realizing he had fallen asleep against Kacchan. Why the blond hadn’t thrown him off was beyond him. The two had returned to the dorm and stayed there until the quirk wore off—Aizawa, despite Hound Dog clearing Izuku, had told Kacchan to stay with Izuku, although Izuku had a feeling Kacchan hadn’t needed it to be an order. The two had been playing video games and watching movies in the common area for most of the time, although had taken a break to make a simple lunch—one that hadn’t required knives. Izuku must have fallen asleep during one of the movies; he was still a little tired from the blood loss, even though Recovery Girl had cleared him to leave.
“H-hello, Mina,” Izuku stuttered out. She was standing in the dorm entrance along with Kaminari and Kirishima. Class must have ended for the day.
“I knew you two would get together eventually,” the pink-skinned girl said with a grin. “What with the amount Bakugou pines about you.”
“W-what?” Izuku asked, eyes wide. Kacchan did that?
“You’ll shut up if you know what’s good for you,” Kacchan spat at the girl, though his arm inexplicably tightened around Izuku, whose mind was spinning at the revelation.
“So, you’re not together?” Kaminari confirmed.
“No, not yet,” Kacchan said with a scowl, though his hand tightened on Izuku’s shoulder. Izuku didn’t miss the fact that Kacchan had said ‘yet’.
It wasn’t as though Izuku hadn’t thought about it before. The two had grown close over the past year, closer than almost anyone else at UA. They’d saved each other’s lives on multiple occasions, with such a desperation that had definitely caused some tabloids to speculate that their relationship went deeper than just friends. Izuku had even trusted Kacchan with harboring One for All on Nabu Island. Their bond was definitely something beyond mere friendship, of that Izuku was certain… But romantic didn’t seem like the right word, either. The term somehow felt too weak to describe them.
Izuku had definitely not missed the charged sexual tension between him and Kacchan though. He had been trying to ignore it, but it was getting difficult—every time they trained lately, and their faces got close as one pinned down the other, Izuku would have to hold down an urge to close the distance. It was… honestly getting pretty bad, he had to admit. Kacchan was definitely attractive; Izuku had had trouble not staring at him in the changing room going as far back as middle school. Back then he thought it was due to jealousy, and that he just wanted a body like Kacchan’s, but thanks to a late-night conversation with Uraraka, where she had been trying to sort out her own feelings about Toga, of all girls, which then led to a discussion about Izuku and Kacchan, now he knew better.
But, the fact that apparently Kacchan had been pining after him as well? Izuku previously hadn’t let himself entertain the thought. He had accepted that Kacchan actually did like him enough again to want to be friends, but Izuku hadn’t even dared to hope that it could develop into the physical realm. Yet, here they were.
“Yo! Earth to Izuku!” Kacchan said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Stop zoning out!”
“Oh! S-sorry, Kacchan!” Izuku said immediately, pulling himself from his thoughts. “What were you saying?”
Mina grinned mischievously. “Well—”
“Not. A. Word,” Kacchan growled.
Kirishima grinned mischievously. “She was saying that it’s about time you two got together.”
“Again, we’re not together!” Kacchan protested, his face beet red.
“But you want to be,” Mina said in a sing-song voice. “Right?”
“...I’m not answering that.”
“I want to be,” Izuku said, heart beating, to his own surprise. The quirk had definitely worn off, right? Yes, it definitely had—he and Kacchan had tested that after the 6-hour mark had hit. Yet, he still couldn’t help but say it.
The room went quiet, everyone too surprised to figure out what to say.
Kacchan was the one to break the silence. “Okay, fine, we’re together,” he decided, slinging his arm back around Izuku and pulling him close.
Izuku felt himself blush. “K-kacchan!” he said, surprised by the forwardness.
“What?” Kacchan snapped, glaring at Izuku, as though expecting him to challenge the statement.
“Oh, um, just… happily surprised,” Izuku decided upon, which seemed to placate Kacchan.
“So,” Kaminari interjected, “Why weren’t you two in class?”
Kacchan tensed next to Izuku, and Izuku shifted awkwardly, unsure how to answer—and very glad that the truth quirk had worn off.
Mina slapped Kaminari on the arm and hissed, “Use some tact!”
Izuku sighed. “I’m guessing you saw this morning, didn’t you, Kirishima?” he asked, noting some others were now entering the dorm, too.
“Uh, yeah,” Kirishima said with a wince. “Aizawa tried to shield you, but we caught glimpses…”
Tsuyu, one of the ones who had just entered and already understanding the conversation, having also been there that morning, further explained, “Bakugou was carrying you. You were covered in blood, and he was crying.”
Izuku’s eyes widened as he turned to Kacchan. “You were crying?!”
Kacchan’s face turned red and he looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I thought you were dying,” he muttered, so quietly that only Izuku could hear.
Or so they thought. Jiro gasped… right, she could hear very quiet sounds. The rest of the class filed in too; it seemed every single one had returned to the dorm immediately following class.
“So, you two are finally together now?” Uraraka asked with a huge mischievous grin. Izuku silently begged whoever would listen that she and Mina didn’t grow into closer friends, because those two would be unstoppable together.
Izuku groaned and put his face in his hands. “Why does everyone keep asking that?” he complained.
“So, you’re not?”
“We are,” Kacchan answered.
Izuku nodded with a smile as he lowered his hands, then frowned as he saw his arm, suddenly extremely aware that out of habit he’d put on a t-shirt, meaning his bandages were prominently visible. Shit.
“Midoriya…” Todoroki said sadly, seeing the arm. Right, he’d been there that morning, too. Izuku sensed that the boy had a better sense of what had happened than the others, and Izuku felt guilty; he’d never told Todoroki that he had the same habit that the boy had once used to cope with his father’s abuse—Izuku had considered confiding in him after he found out, but Todoroki had said that he stopped long ago, so Izuku had assumed he didn’t have The Urge anymore. Plus, Izuku was terrified of the judgement he’d receive, even though logically he knew that Todoroki wouldn’t have judged.
Izuku sighed in resignation, knowing he couldn’t escape this. “Okay, fine, let’s get it over with,” he grumbled. Somewhere along the lines everyone had managed to find seats around the room, and thanks to Uraraka his and Kacchan’s couch had been quickly spun around to face the room instead of the TV.
“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to,” Kacchan said gently.
Everyone in the room except Izuku stared at Kacchan with wide eyes full of surprise.
“What?” Kacchan bristled.
“Bakugou just… was nice,” Sero said in awe.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Kacchan snapped.
“Kacchan, calm down,” Izuku playfully chided.
“I am calm.”
Izuku laughed. “Sure you are… Okay, more serious.” He took a deep breath. “I need to explain.” He didn’t want to lie anymore. He had to do this, not just to sate his friends’ curiosity but also for his own mental wellbeing. He couldn’t hide from his friends anymore; plus Hound Dog was right, a support network would be good, and Izuku knew that his friends would be willing to be such, even if a part of his mind still kept telling him otherwise.
“No, you don’t,” Kacchan insisted. “You can, I dunno, write it in a note or something…”
Izuku couldn’t help but facepalm. “That would just make it seem worse than it is,” he ground out. One of the first things the adults and Kacchan had thought of earlier had been that he was suicidal, which he wasn’t—he didn’t want his classmates drawing the conclusion that he was, too. It was frustrating that self-harm was so often linked to being suicidal when in so many cases it wasn’t. Izuku supposed it was better safe than sorry, but still. Frustrating.
“What? Why would—oh,” Kacchan said in realization. “Yeah, maybe that would make it seem worse.”
The class looked at each other in clear confusion.
“So,” Tokuyama said, breaking the awkward silence. “Aizawa-sensei said there was a quirk accident?”
Izuku nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. It took a while to wear off.”
“What did it do?” Momo asked.
“Ooh, did it, like, turn you into a girl or something?” Mineta asked excitedly. “Like, with all the parts? Is that why Bakugou is sitting so close to you? Did you get to explore what it was like having straight se—”
Kirishima smacked Mineta over the head with his quirk activated, and Mineta crumbled to the ground, unconscious. Izuku found himself relieved; honestly he’d prefer the boy not to be there, but he couldn’t just exclude a single person without a good explanation—although ‘it’s Mineta’ would probably be enough of one for most of the class.
Kacchan had raised his arm to blast the boy himself, but Kirishima had beaten him to it, so instead he adjusted both his arms so they wrapped around Izuku’s waist, pulling him fully onto his lap.
“K-kacchan?” Izuku stuttered in surprise, unable to help blushing again.
“Don’t overthink it, nerd,” Kacchan grumbled, and Izuku knew he must be blushing too.
“So, back on subject…” Iida prompted. “What type of quirk caused your absence? I am assuming it was not as Mineta suggested,” he concluded, sounding mildly disgusted.
“Ugh, no, definitely not,” Izuku said. Even if the quirk had given him different parts, that didn’t mean the first thing he’d do would be… ugh, what was wrong with that purple-headed guy’s mind, that it would jump right to that?
“Was it the one from this morning?” Kirishima asked.
Todoroki scrunched his brow in confusion. “But I thought that one just made you tell the truth? That shouldn’t involve blood… Was there another one?”
“It was just that one quirk,” Izuku confirmed. “The truth-telling one. It…” he sighed, looking around the room. He could definitely tell them, right? Right. “Okay, listen up. I’ll explain everything—I know there’s going to be a lot of questions, so if you can save them for the end, I’ll answer them then, got it?”
The class all made sounds of agreement; some people took out notebooks, as they all had their school things with them, having just returned from class—hopefully just to write down questions and not to transcribe the conversation.
Izuku explained everything. He told them how he’d started cutting to cope when he was much younger, and how it was now a habit, an addiction. He told them about The Urge, and how it had been so loud that morning. He assured them that he no longer felt the same way he used to back in middle school, that he wasn’t going to intentionally kill himself, and that he was going to be seeing Hound Dog to help him get over the addiction.
There were of course questions at the end; Izuku answered them the best he could, getting less nervous as the session went on, realizing that his classmates and friends all truly cared about him. They even offered to help him as much as they could, encouraging him unprompted to come to them whenever The Urge returned.
After the questions, people began sharing their own stories of trauma in solidarity, and Izuku leaned back into Kacchan, who in response held him tighter and subtly kissed his hair (yes, Mina and Uraraka noticed). He hadn’t yet told the class that Kacchan had been one of those awful middle school bullies, nor did he have any plans to, though surely some had suspected that and it would definitely come up in Hound Dog’s sessions.
But for now, Izuku found that he was perfectly content. His classmates—no, friends—had found out about his past, and had not only accepted it, but had offered to help—no, insisted upon helping. If someone had told middle-school Izuku that this was what his future would look like, he’d have laughed in their face, yet here he was, surrounded by friends who supported and cared about him—including Kacchan, who he was now dating (his middle-school self would have fainted at that revelation!).
Yes, for the first time in his life, despite everything that had happened, Izuku was happy with his life. He couldn’t help but smile at the realization.
“What are you so happy about,” Kacchan muttered in his ear, although he didn’t have to as everyone had divided up again, some leaving the lounge and others staying in smaller groups, no longer watching the two.
“Mmm. Nothing much,” Izuku said. “Just, life is good.”
Kacchan let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah…” Izuku then felt a flash of anxiety as he realized that technically, the whole relationship-thing hadn’t been clearly confirmed. ‘Together’ did mean boyfriend, right? But what if it just meant friends… Izuku decided to take a leap of faith, feeling confident yet nervous as he said flirtatiously, “But you know what would make it even better?”
“What?”
“You being my boyfriend,” Izuku said quietly, stomach twisting slightly as he said it, knowing in his heart what the answer would be but suddenly nervous nonetheless. “I mean, I know you said earlier we’re together, but—”
Kacchan put his hand over Izuku’s mouth, cutting him off before he could start rambling. “Tch. Is that all? You already have that, nerd.” Kacchan removed his hand from Izuku’s mouth and returned it to his waist, squeezing it slightly.
Izuku grinned, stomach now fluttering with excitement. “Good,” he said, snuggling closer to his boyfriend.
As they sat in comfortable silence, Izuku found himself yawning, unable to resist drifting off to sleep in the warm embrace; he vaguely registered a kiss being laid atop his head before he fell into a dream, which for the first time in a long time was one of a happy future rather than a nightmare.