Chapter Text
* * *
The atmosphere in the meeting room was heavy.
Izuku Midoriya sat with his hands on his knees, his fingers slightly clenched, as if he were still holding something no one else could see. Sir Nighteye spoke, projecting maps, entry routes, probabilities. The operation against the Eight Precepts of Death was beginning to take real form—concrete, inevitable.
But Izuku could barely hear.
Eri.
The small face, the downcast eyes, the frail hand clutching the sleeve of his coat in that alley.
“Save me.”
He closed his eyes for a second longer than he should have.
"Midoriya?" Aizawa's voice pulled him back. "Do you understand your role in the operation?"
Izuku nodded too quickly.
"Yes sir."
He understood the plan. But he didn't understand how he was still there, breathing, training, sleeping, while she remained imprisoned.
When the meeting ended, the students were dismissed. Quiet conversations formed in the hallways. Uraraka tried to appear optimistic, while Aizawa discussed logistics with exaggerated seriousness and Tsuyu was silent—but attentive.
Izuku walked past everyone without really seeing them. That night, he didn't return to the dorm.
* * *
The UA gym was empty.
The lights were dimmed to a minimum—just enough to avoid tripping. The digital clock on the wall read 1:47 AM.
Izuku was breathing heavily.
His training uniform was soaked with sweat, clinging to his thin body. His arms trembled. His hands were red, his knuckles swollen.
He moved forward.
"Delaware…" he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Smash!"
The air exploded in front of him. The shockwave ripped through the gymnasium, causing the panels to vibrate. Izuku was thrown several meters backward, rolling on the floor.
Pain.
He groaned softly, trying to stand up. His right arm gave way, but his left compensated. His knee protested, and he promptly ignored it.
"Again..." he whispered to himself, as if someone were listening.
He forced himself to stand up.
One For All coursed through his body like barely contained fire, burning from within. He wasn't in control. He knew it. He felt every microfracture, every muscle being pulled beyond its safe limit.
But he didn't care.
If I had been stronger that day…If I had ignored the fear…
He punched the air but misjudged the angle, making the force rebound against him.
Izuku fell to his knees.
The impact echoed through the empty gymnasium.
He lay there, bent over, his forehead almost touching the ground. His breath came in irregular sobs.
"I'm sorry..." he murmured, not knowing to whom. "I'll... I'll get stronger. I promise."
The clock read 2:13 AM when he started moving again.
* * *
In the following days, the change became impossible to ignore.
Izuku arrived at class with deep dark circles under his eyes, his automatic smile more fragile than ever. His notebook was still full of notes, but the pages now bore sweat stains, hastily scribbled notes, and calculations repeated obsessively.
"Did you sleep?" Uraraka asked one morning, tilting her head.
"Yes, I slept! A-about… four hours," he replied too quickly. Most likely two hours.
Iida adjusted his glasses, suspicious.
"Midoriya, this isn't enough to maintain peak performance—"
"-I'm fine!" Izuku interrupted, too loudly.
Silence.
He realized the tone too late.
"I-I'm sorry... I just..." he swallowed hard. "I'm going to train a little more."
"Just a little more" became a daily and nightly routine, whenever he had time.
Aizawa noticed the reports of physical exhaustion, while Recovery Girl complained and even All Might tried to talk to him—and was met with a respectful smile and an emotional wall he couldn't break through.
He was drowning in training.
* * *
Itsuka Kendo realized this before most people did.
She didn't have direct classes with Izuku, but the hallways at UA were too small for an observant person not to notice patterns. And Midoriya had become a worrying pattern: steps that were too quick, shoulders always tense, a distant gaze, and above all, the way he avoided people whenever possible.
"He's going to break," she murmured one afternoon, leaning against the patio fence.
Tetsutetsu laughed.
"Midoriya? That guy is practically made of patches, Kendo. He'll be fine."
She didn't smile.
Because there was something about his green eyes that she recognized.
Guilt.
Kendo had admired Izuku for a long time. Not for his brute strength—although that had caught her attention at first—but after observing him more closely, she came to like the way he always moved forward even while tremblin and how much he cared. Even though they were from different classes, they talked often, and she considered him a close friend. Perhaps that was why it hurt so much to see him like that.
That night, when the clock struck midnight, Kendo couldn't sleep.
After two and a half hours of tossing and turning in bed, she decided to follow her instinct.
* * *
The sound was the first thing she heard: dry impacts, contained explosions, irregular breathing. Kendo pushed the gym door open slowly.
Izuku was there alone.
The makeshift bandages on his arms were torn. His training uniform was almost unrecognizable. He lunged forward as if he were fighting something invisible—and losing.
"Midoriya."
Her voice echoed in the empty space.
He turned with a start, his body reacting before his mind. The energy of One For All flickered for a second before fading.
"K-Kendo?!" He widened his eyes. "What are you doing here?!"
She crossed her arms firmly, but worry was etched on her face.
"That's funny, I was thinking the same thing. What time do you think it is?"
Izuku glanced at the clock.
03:23.
"I just... needed to train a little more."
She walked towards him, each step echoing. "That's not 'a little.' "
He looked away. "You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
Silence.
Izuku opened his mouth… and nothing came out. His shoulders began to tremble. He knew he shouldn't share information about the operation, but he was so done with all of this and he hadn't properly slept in a while, so he wasn't in his best shape to make decisions.
"I saw her," he said at last, his voice breaking. "I held her hand. And I left."
His breathing hicthed.
"And now… now every passing second feels wrong. As if I'm stealing her time just by… staying here."
Kendo didn't answer. She just approached, and carefully, enveloped Izuku in a firm, protective hug.
He resisted for half a second.
Then it all collapsed.
The tears came slowly at first. He clung to her uniform as if it were the only thing keeping him standing.
"I'm scared," he confessed, his voice almost fading away. "Scared of not being enough. Of getting there... and it being too late."
Kendo rested her chin on his head.
"You don't have to carry this alone."
She felt the boy's legs give way, and did her best to prevent him from hurting himself when he hit the ground, practically supporting him so he could sit down carefully.
Seeing that his crying intensified, she swallowed her shame. No longer caring about appearances, she shifted her position and knelt over him, her knees resting on either side of his hips. Reaching for him forcefully, she grabbed him by the nape of the neck and pulled him close, causing the boy's face to bury itself in her shoulder.
Leaning forward, he buried his face in her chest, his body quickly overcome with sobs. Itsuka's embarrassment at her compromising position instantly evaporated as she raised her hands, embracing him.
Unable to contain himself, the boy pressed his body against Itsuka's and cried out in anguish, though her pajamas muffled most of the sound. His sobs resumed as he released all his pain. In turn, Itsuka simply hugged him tighter, whispering words of encouragement as she stroked his hair.
He cried for several minutes, until his body could barely produce tears. He cried, screamed, cursed the world around him. And finally, when he could no longer exert himself, he let the sobs cease. Trembling slightly from the effort, Izuku clung to Itsuka while sobbing, quickly falling silent. With his mind finally beginning to clear, he searched for something else to think about, trying to ward off the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm him. As he gently rested his head on the girl's chest, his brain chose what to study for him.
Ignoring the aches and pains in his body, Izuku leaned back slightly to look at her.
She was smiling. It wasn't a forced or ironic smile. She was simply smiling. Slowly, the girl wiped his cheeks with her fingers and cupped his face in her hands.
His heart leaped when he saw her, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe he felt more connected to her now that she had embraced him while he wept uncontrollably. Maybe it was just good to finally let it all out after such awful days. Or maybe it was because he was finally realizing how gentle her touch was or how warm her body felt in the cold air.
In any case, it helped that he'd had a crush on her ever since the sports festival. Plus, the moonlight accentuated the girl's natural beauty, with her fiery hair and sea-green eyes. If his face hadn't already been so red, she might have seen him blush.
Desperate to change the subject, he looked around for something, anything, to say. With few options, he cleared his throat. "I... I'm sorry about your clothes," he murmured, somewhat embarrassed, pointing to her shirt, which was quite stained with tears.
"Idiot," she whispered with a touch of affection. As if she cared about any old pajamas.
Izuku blinked, then felt the corners of his lips curve slightly upward. It wasn't a smile, but he was trying. He paused to analyze the situation once more.
She was practically sitting on top of him, her fingers tangled in his hair. Their bodies were pressed against each other, and they shared an intense gaze. If anyone ventured inside the gym, they would probably get a completely wrong idea of the situation. Perhaps it was a good thing that it was almost 4 a.m.
He decided he was too tired to worry about it, and gently removed her hands from his face, resting his chin on her shoulder while intertwining his arms around her waist. Trying to maintain a natural demeanor, he resolved to start a less emotionally draining conversation.
"How did you... know I was here?" he asked, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
"It was a stroke of luck." She brushed it off. Itsuka considered telling him that she spent 40 minutes looking for his training spot, but quickly dismissed the idea. She knew he would feel guilty.
So the girl looked at the clock again and knew they needed to sleep as quickly as possible so they wouldn't look like zombies the next day. It was already 3:46.
She considered her options. Well, if she left him in his room, there was no guarantee he would fall asleep. In fact, she was sure he wouldn't sleep at all without someone to force him to. And she was the only one available, given the time.
Feeling her face flush, and seeing no other alternative, she decided there was only one option. Holding his hands, which were now on her waist, she gently pulled away. The sudden movement and the loss of support made the boy look into her eyes, and for a moment she forgot what she was going to say.
"Izuku..." She began, searching for the words that escaped her mind. "You're sleeping in my room tonight. I don't want you to be alone after this."
Izuku nodded, too exhausted to argue.