Chapter Text
Izuku is tired.
He may be curled up on his teacher's couch watching cartoons, but he’s tired.
He hated that feeling so much so he tried everything in the book to push it away.
From hot showers to throwing himself into work but nothing seems to be working.
He has plenty of reasons to be tired. Breaking his bones constantly, Bakugo’s yelling, The league of villains, and even keeping secrets from those he loves.
well the pain from each one of those incidents helps a little which might have helped with the lead up to… this situation.
Izuku learned from his middle school but not all pain hurts or well hurts in the way you think.
Sure it hurts, but it makes him feel better but at the same time it feels like he’s betraying the ones he loves.
The scars have been harder to hide since he got into UA, but everything has gone better.
everything but me.
He still feels as empty as ever but it feels as if something is pushing on his chest, and the pain has not been enough as of today.
His emotions have been all over the place. He was so happy at the start of school that he didn’t realize that this feeling would just keep on coming back.
He felt tired.
Each time he had a breakdown, he had to push himself away from that knife. But it didn’t take long for him to start cutting again.
He stopped for eight months, but he couldn’t even get that right.
Little by little with each little line he will get angrier not with anyone else, but with himself.
He might’ve caught the attention of the teachers with how he changed from short sleeves to long sleeves, but no one stepped in yet so he guessed he could keep on going.
As he made his way out of class, his mind was filled with ways he could harm himself today, but no, he could not do that today. He had plans to hang out with Kota today.
As he walked back to the dorms, he did not notice the worried glances he got from both teachers and students alike.
The dorms were a mess when he reached them from the moment he opened the doors to the second he entered the living room he could tell that someone had to clean it up, most likely to be him, but he would like to hope that wasn’t the case today.
Shoes were thrown around in the entranceway, backpacks left on the floor, candy wrappers left all over the place and last night‘s dinner left in the kitchen. He can see it from the living room.
He sighed and picked up a trash bag and got to work first he got to the plates left around from dinner most likely left from the two knuckleheads of the class. Sure they met no harm but they’re a bit thickheaded sometimes.
Then he got to the shoes, the shoes oh, they stink. He picked up the ones that were smelt and tossed them into a bag where they could be washed later that day. They were a collection of mostly boys' shoes.
As he made his way around cleaning up, he found more and more trash, but it wasn’t the worst amount he'd found. He’s just happy. He didn’t find any of Mineta's things around. He’s thrown a few things out, but it doesn’t make me any less cautious of him.
He moved back to the entranceway and hung up the backpacks, just noticing a letter left on the floor.
He picked it up and moved it to the table. It had his name on it so he opened it.
Dear Izuku.
Hello my dear son, it's your father. I know I haven’t been the best father in the past, but I would like to rekindle and be in your life again. I hope you can understand that you’re quirk or well lack of one when you were younger disappointed me greatly and well I hope to be moving back as you become a hero. I thought you weren’t my child when I first found out you were quirkless and when I found out, you were my child I was disgusted as you can understandably tell. I would rather not be a father of a worthless child then a villainous one. I hope you can understand this.
Love your father.
As he read his hands tightened on the letter slowly, his calm expression turned of one of rage. He hated that man he was the most manipulative and conniving, lying son of a bitch you could ever meet.
Izuku stormed up to his room. He needed it to calm down. He was going to hurt one of his friends or worse, break his friend's trust.
He remembered all those nights he spent hiding from Hizashi. The yelling. The broken glass. His mother sobbing. White hot Pain.
He startled out of his erratic breathing to the front door opening in all his friends coming inside or as everyone would call them. The Bakusquad.
The yelling at his best friend starts him into a worse downhill spiral. All he wants is to be in control. He wants to feel normal even if it harms him in the long run.
He slides the floor with the crumpled letter in his hands, still drags his body slowly towards the bathroom, even though it felt like lead. He scrambles around for a few more minutes and pulls out a curling iron.
He plugs it in and he waits, but it doesn’t feel short enough to take him out of his stupor. What does prime pry him out of his stupor is Koda knocking on his door.
“Izuku.” he quietly calls out while knocking softly.
Izuku CAN’T do this. He just can’t. He tries to silent his breathing by covering his mouth with his hands, but that is a little too slow his breathing.
“Izuku, I'm starting to get worried. My s-snake was telling me to check on on you. S-She set some alarming things.” Koda tries
Izuku stumbles in surprise into the counter, knocking the curling iron off. He gasps at the sudden burning he feels. But the burn helps a little bit to bring him back into the world.
“I-If you don’t answer me, I’m going to go get a teacher.” his voice waivers at this point and worry seeping into the voice.
Izuku cracked the door open just slightly and looked up at him.
“I-I’m fine just… need some time to myself.” he puts on the best smile he can at the moment obviously Koda doesn’t buy it.
Koda bites, bottom lip, and his face tenses are a bit, but suddenly relaxes with a sigh.
“F-Fine, but please come to me or a-anyone in our class for help if you need it okay?”
Izuku just nods and slowly shuts the door. Once the door is shut, he crumbles to the ground.
“Fuck” tumble out as his mind race is a minute.
That was too close. too close for comfort. The burn on his arm was so visible that he was almost sure that Koda saw it. But his luck saved him as it does so many other times.
He makes his way back over to the curling iron. He wants to finish what he started. He lifts the curling iron and places it directly to the skin of his upper thighs. He has gotten tired of people asking about his arms.
Izuku’s tired of the worry that comes with being him. But the pain erases the anger at his father. Izuku reasoned that it wasn’t that bad and the pain from his father, leaving both him and his mother does not exist.
He quickly texts a message to his mom and tells her about Hizashi.
He shoves his phone away and his desk before it starts to buzz constantly.
The pain of the curling iron numbs out and he wants more. Instinctually his eyes rest on the pills in the corner. The ones he’s supposed to take when he breaks his arms eventually.
He moves slowly towards them. He doesn’t even notice the knocking coming from his door or Iida saying dinner is ready or when Izuku started crying or even when Iida says he’s going to get Aizawa.
He grabs a bottle and head back to the bathroom sink, pulling a cup out of the cabinet, filling it with warm water because he does not want to feel alone when he does this.
Slowly, one by one, pills enter his mouth. He’s nearly taken the entire bottle when his mind starts to get a little foggy. He doesn’t give up and just starts taking them from the floor. Once all the pills are gone. He stumbles over to his bed. Not even caring about the pill bottle he leaves on the floor.
His vision started to dark around the edges and everything feels like it’s underneath water. The only thing that’s comforting him right now is his covers and the sick thought that everything will just stop.
Nearly all his vision is dark when his door is busted down. He hears yelling, but he can’t make it out. He’s jumbled around and groans at the sudden movement, but doesn’t make a move to stop the person from picking him up.
Until later, he doesn’t realize that his teacher was crying over him at this very moment while rushing him out of the dorms, not caring if someone did or did not see him, a mess.
When everything goes dark, his dreams are not peaceful. No.
His dreams or rather nightmares are of everything wrong with him.