Work Text:
Izuku gets a feel for the weight of the ball in his hand. He takes a deep shuddering breath in preparation for what he is about to do. It’s stupid, yes but it is also necessary. If he doesn’t use his quirk now he will almost certainly fail because while he hasn't done badly on any of the tests he was still falling in the low 15’s in every one. That wouldn’t be a problem seeing as a few of his classmates are in the same boat except even those classmates have at least one significant score from an event that their quirk worked well in. Izuku needed a score like that so he could get at least 19th place because 20th meant failing and failing meant expulsion. Not only would he be expelled but it would be within his first two hours at his dream school. Izuku didn’t know if he could handle that.
He can feel dark eyes staring at him as his teacher's annoyance grows the longer Izuku pointlessly stalls, trying to think of any solution other than using his quirk but coming up empty-handed. Finally, Izuku resigns to breaking himself again and pulls back his left arm which, while it was his non-dominant hand, it was the only one he could safely use his quirk with. He holds his position, takes one last breath, and hurls the ball much like he’d seen baseball plays do except his throw was supposed to be much more impressive and painful; the keyword being "supposed". Instead, the ball falls a lame 50 meters or so away, rolling slightly before coming to a stop. He stares down at his pale, perfectly intact arm and wonders what just happened. Sure he’d only used his quirk two times in the decade and change he’s had it for but his quirk counseling had consisted almost entirely of meditation so he could feel his quirk within him. That had only been so he could avoid using it, but it still led him to be very aware and in tune with his power despite its infrequent use. This means that he shouldn’t have had any issues using it if he wanted to which he (kind of) did.
“You were about to break your arm, weren’t you?” A voice—Aizawa-sensei—asks darkly and Izuku’s heart stops in his chest. He’s terrified to see how his teacher is looking at him but his mom always emphasized the importance of being respectful to everyone, especially those in authority which Aizawa is, so he slowly looks up to the man and immediately regrets it. His homeroom teacher of a few hours now towers over him, the irritation pouring off him in waves as red eyes bore into him. Oh, Izuku thinks absentmindedly that’s why I couldn’t use my quirk because standing in front of him was one of Musutafu’s most infamous underground heroes, Eraserhead. Izuku is almost ashamed of himself for not recognizing the man sooner even if all he’d ever seen of the hero were blurry pictures. He actually would be ashamed if he weren’t so busy warding off a heart attack. “If you think you can continue to destroy your body while on the field you’re wrong,” the man growls and Izuku corrects himself, it’s a much more familiar panic attack. “You’ll only become a liability to yourself and others, hero and civilian alike.” Eraserhead isn’t done though because apparently, he decided the nail was yet to be put in the coffin so with a few words he further ruins what was supposed to be a good day, one of the best Izuku’s had in years, “With your power you will never be a hero.”
Izuku's blood pressure continues to rise and he wishes it was due to anger coursing through his veins, however, anger has never been his strong suit, he always left that to Kacchan. It's not though because while he wants to be upset, probably even deserves it because doesn’t Aizawa think he’d have control of his quirk if he could? Doesn’t he think Izuku would lift cars instead of putting his parents in years of debt for dozens of surgeries and hundreds of appointments, that he’d punch through walls instead of sitting alone at his own sequestered lunch table for years pushing food around on his plate as he stares longingly at his loud and laughing peers and wishing just one of them would talk to him? Izuku would do anything to be normal but there's nothing to do, he knows this. He didn’t even think he’d use his quirk at UA, he’d long since resigned himself to becoming a quirkless hero after enough people made fun of him for being as good as quirkless. Now though Izuku doesn’t have that chance because if he doesn’t use his quirk here and now he will be expelled from UA’s hero course which would put a black mark on his record that would ward off any other half-decent school let alone one with a hero program. If it came to that he could potentially move to the United States with his dad and go to school there but honestly, while he loves the man he’d never really been a parent to Izuku. His parent would always be a kind woman who’d sit with him for long hours after nightmares of another quirk accident, making some form of baked good while they rewatched any All Might movie for the hundredth time. No, he had to stay here in 1-A and to do that he’d have to face the cause of almost every single one of his problems. So despite everything he could be angry about, all Izuku feels is a sickening hollowness.
The hero finally blinks, returning Izuku’s quirk to him, and sighs tiredly like Izuku is no more than an inconvenience. “Just throw the ball,” he says tossing a replacement and turning away as Izuku struggles to catch the lamely thrown ball. "Just throw the ball," he says like it's so easy while Izuku's feet are cemented to the ground, unable to move if his brain could even ask them to. It's a testament to his inner panic which he's sure he isn't hiding well, especially from a hero, but Eraserhead just looks at him with a bored expression, clearly uncaring that Izuku feels more like passing out than making another attempt at the ball throw.
Izuku's heart pounds against his ribs in an attempt to escape while his lungs compensate for his heart's extra work by giving out on him. It would be so easy to fall into his impending panic attack but he can't because last place calls his name and Izuku refuses to answer. His therapist wouldn't be happy, but the only thing he can think of doing now is subtly digging his nails into his thighs and squeezing tightly. The old habit has the same effects it always did, the pinpricks of pain acting like a hole in an overfilled balloon and slowly letting out the built-up pressure instead of waiting for it to burst. It’s not perfect, not even okay but it’s enough for him to turn back to the woods where he’ll throw the ball whenever he figures out how to do that. He can figure it out, he just has to think and Izuku is good at thinking, he does it all the time, generally overthinking like he is now.
Izuku tightens his grip around the ball, the material letting out a slight squeak as his palms, sweaty from anxiety and the bright, beaming sun, shift. He lets out a faltering breath, trying to force his mind to concentrate for just a few moments. He could do this, he was smart, not only did his mom praise his intelligence but his grades reflected it in the fact that he and Kacchan had been fighting for the top spot in their grade their entire middle school career, or rather Kacchan was fighting, Izuku was just trying his best for his own benefit. Not that a little friendly competition wasn’t okay but Kacchan hadn’t been friendly in years so… Anyway Izuku was smart. He could figure out a way not to shatter his other arm irreparably, something his numerous quirk counselors hadn’t been able to do over the span of ten years all without testing and potentially causing the loss of more of Izuku’s body. He could do it in the next minute or so. It was his quirk, his spot in the hero course on the line, it was all on him.
He decides to start thinking simply with what had just been said. Aizawa was upset about the prospect of Izuku breaking his arm, which makes two of them, but Izuku still has no way of using his quirk without hurting himself. Honestly, Izuku had been so proud of himself during the entrance exam for merely shattering both his legs and an arm while accidentally using his quirk in a moment of pure adrenaline to save his now classmate, possibly even friend (he’s not so sure about that second part seeing as the last friend he’d had had been years ago and someone who inevitably left him once they figured out how useless Izuku was with his quirk). To Izuku the entrance exam was an improvement because with Recovery Girl’s help he was able to walk out of the testing ground himself. Izuku still had full functionality of all his used limbs while his right arm still and always sat all but useless by his side.
This means that Izuku can’t break his arm but he can’t not use his quirk so… so he just has to minimize the damage. The man is at least right and Izuku knew, has always known he wouldn’t be able to use his quirk on the field, thus the plan of doing it quirkless. A disabled, although it would now only be broken, limb in the field would put him out of commission but limbs aren’t all he has. Izuku looks at the hand still holding the partially mechanical ball, the fear coursing through his veins making his knuckles white with his tight grip, and silently apologizes to his finger but a sacrifice is necessary. For the second time that day he pulls his arm back, breathes in and prepares for pain before activating his quirk, this time concentrating on containing it to his index finger. Without giving himself the time to think any further he throws the ball and releases the power built up under the skin of his finger.
The ball quickly disappears from sight with a powerful gust of wind that threatens to knock him over, and then it’s followed by a deep boom. Izuku looks in shock at the open sky and realizes he broke the sound barrier. Midoriya Izuku with the body-destroying quirk just broke the frickin sound barrier. He wouldn’t be able to contain his excitement if he tried so he doesn't. A wide grin breaks out across his face and his previously pounding heart instantly becomes light. He feels like he’s on cloud nine because not only did he use his quirk but he can feel his finger throbbing in pain which means it’s still attached to his hand in some way. Izuku just used his quirk for the first time in eleven years without taking himself out. He can’t even imagine how happy his mom will be when Izuku tells her, but he doesn’t even get to think of the celebration they’ll have when he gets home because he looks over to Aizawa and the class by extension. A handful of his classmates look downright impressed even though they’d just seen Uraraka throw her ball into orbit which was awesome, Kacchan looks pissed but that’s normal, what Izuku is focused on is Aizawa who looks entirely unimpressed. Izuku’s smile falters as does his excitement and he wonders if even that wasn’t enough. He might cry—he will definitely ball his eyes out if he still landed himself in last place after that groundbreaking display.
Aizawa raises an eyebrow in annoyance. “What are you waiting for?” he asks and nods to the group which Izuku quickly joins, wanting desperately to not test the man anymore. From there the events continue as if nothing had happened, the next person steps up to the circle and takes their turn then the next all the while Izuku holds his breath and hopes for a break, just this once. It isn't until the last person completes the throw that the list is unveiled which Izuku searches until he finds a number 20 right next to his name that the air escapes his lungs though instead of relief it feels more like he'd been punched in the stomach. All eyes turn to Izuku, mostly in pity, but Aizawa only gives a wide, toothy grin and tells them all it was a “logical rouse” and that no one was being expelled. Almost every person on the training field lets out a sigh of relief and he can tell he’s not the only one thinking, this year is going to suck.