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Izuku had always been attached to his hair.
It started when he was five years old. He watched his mother each morning as she pulled her curly hair tight and ran an iron through it.
She'd always given him a sad smile. She'd ruffle his curly hair and tell him that his hair was handsome— Izuku always wondered, if he and his mother had the same hair, why was she changing hers?
When Izuku was seven years old, Katsuki got a hold of scissors in art class, and decided that it would be funny to cut a chunk of hair off of Izuku's head.
He'd gone back home crying that day. The patch of hair had taken months to grow back.
When he was fourteen he asked his mom why she straightened her hair. She answered simply— I'm not sure. My mother always did. I guess I got into the habit. Izuku wondered when he was supposed to start straightening his hair.
Hopefully never. He wasn't sure that he'd like how it looks that way.
But now, he was eighteen years old.
Two years ago he got his skull cracked open during the Paranormal Liberation war. They had to shave half of his head to be able to do surgery on him. Though, his hair being shaved would probably be expected to be the least traumatic experience for him, but it really wasn't.
And now, two years later, it had finally grown back.
A little lopsided, though.
"So, Midoriya, are you sticking with that style forever, or.." Kirishima asked him, leaning back on the common room couch. He yawned.
They were about to graduate, so naturally, it was a really long day of school. They'd been doing media training lately. There was a whole bunch of rules that Izuku was having a hard time remembering— like, how you're not supposed to hug your fans. Why wouldn't Izuku want to hug his (future) fans? They're probably great!
Izuku shook off that thought and decided to focus on what Kirishima was saying to him.
"What style?"
"Your hair. You haven't gotten it cut since first year, right?"
Izuku tucked the right side of his hair behind his ear.
"Uhm.. yeah, well, I don't really need to, so," he laughed awkwardly.
The left side of his hair had grown back to it's original length. The right side, however, sat a little further than his shoulder.
It looked.. ridiculous. To put it lightly. Maybe someone could pull it off, but not Midoriya.
Maybe if he dressed cooler. But it didn't exactly pair well with a plain t-shirt and basketball shorts.
"You could, though. I could cut it for you! Or Mina," he offered.
"No thanks! I'm good, actually. My hair is fine," Izuku response, furrowing his eyebrows. He wasn't sure if he was just imagining it or not, but Kirishima was seeming very.. pushy.
Kirishima held up his hands defensively. "Alright bro, that's cool."
That wasn't the only time someone had bugged him about his hair, though. The next time was a week later, when he had gone home to visit his mother for the weekend.
"Izuku— please. This isn't an attack on you, I just want to have a nice picture for our Christmas card to send to your father," Inko said slowly.
Izuku translated it into: Your father is gonna think you're a weirdo because of your lopsided hair, so you have to cut it.
"If you go to the salon, I'll even bring you to the new hero pop-up store at the mall. I'll pay for tickets."
"No thanks, mom. I can get my own tickets," he said with a sigh.
Inko had to bribe Izuku to do things he didn't want to do a lot when he was a kid. But that wouldn't work now— he knew her tricks too well.
Inko sighed out a well, and walked away. She seemed to have given up.. a little too easily.
It was suspicious.
And then, an hour and a half later, Izuku realized what was going on, because when someone knocked on their front door, when Izuku opened it, it was All Might himself.
Izuku lead him into the house to the couch and took a deep breath. "Would you.. like some tea?" He asked, trying to be polite.
"No thank you, Midoriya. I appreciate the offer, but I really just came to speak with you."
Izuku chewed on his lip and sat down on the couch next to All Might.
The man cleared his throat. "Young Midoriya.. about your ha-"
"Are you gonna grill me about my lopsided head, too?" Izuku snapped, gritting his teeth.
Toshinori blinked, surprised at Midoriya's outburst.
"..I was going to ask you if.. well, if you keeping your hair like that is your choice. If it is, pay me no mind, but.." he trailed off.
"Who's choice would it be but mine?" Izuku said in a confused tone. He furrowed his eyebrows.
"Well, I don't know. Don't listen to me. Say, completely off topic— have you happened to visit a therapist lately?"
"..What are you trying to say? You've been talking a whole lot more cryptically, lately, y'know."
"I was only saying, that sometimes people get attached to otherwise meaningless things whenever they go through a bad experience. Have you ever thought about if you actually want your hair like that, or do you feel like you need to keep it for the.. security, or whatever."
Izuku sat in silence for a few moments.
"Did you talk to my mother?"
"She invited me here, yes."
"I hope you know she only asked you to come here because she thought you'd get through to me better than her."
"Midoriya—"
"Did you ever think that I'm kinda sick of people telling me what to do?"
"I know it must be frustrating, but-"
"But, nothing! What— what if I like my hair like this, huh? What if I like it when people look at me like I'm a weirdo? They always have, it's nothing new! I- I like my hair because-.." Midoriya cut his own sentence off.
Toshinori gave him a few moments to think, before sighing. "Why do you like your hair?"
"Because.." Izuku chewed on his lip, letting silence linger throughout the room. "Because people always tell me what I can and can't do. A-and.. I like.. choosing to be this way." His eyes were telling up at this point. He looked away from Toshinori.
All Might set a hand on Midoriya's shoulder.
"Alright. That's fair. But I hope you realize that, even though you haven't previously had many choices in your life.. you have them now. You don't need to stick with something you don't like just to go against people's opinions of you."
Izuku sniffled. "Who says I don't like my hair like this?"
"Well.. do you?"
The room was silent for a few moments, other than Midoriya's sniffling. "No. I really don't. I think it's horrible."
Toshinori chuckled. "Well, then, here's a choice for you right now; would you like for me to give you a haircut?"
Izuku watched as little tufts of his hair fell to the floor. He listened to the little snip noises that came from the scissors Izuku had raided from his mother's haircut kit.
"Y'know, shoulder length hair wasn't a bad look on you at all. I think you could pull it off," Toshinori commented with a smile. "Though, a more symmetrical look would probably do you good."
Izuku snickered, a small smile making it's way onto his face. "Maybe when I become a teacher, I'll grow my hair out like Aizawa-sensei's."
"Sounds like a good plan. Atleast that way, you'll know for sure that you're projecting nothing but authority for your rascal students."
Izuku laughed. "Is that how it works? Now that I think about it, most of the teachers at UA have long hair. I can only think of Vlad King-sensei that doesn't."
"Maybe having long hair makes you educate better."
"Y'know what they say, hair hold memories. And teaching definitely requires a lot of memories. You need to remember what you learned in school and then pass it on. I'm actually a bit worried— I don't have the best memory for mundane things."
Toshinori huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Is English really that mundane to you?"
"Yes! It literally makes no sense! I think I'll be a really crappy English teacher— and then a really good Heroics teacher, once I inevitably get promoted, of course."
"Of course."
After five more minutes of various conversations, the haircut was done.
"Wow. I look ten years younger," Izuku said, looking into the mirror.
He ran his hand through the right side of his hair.
Toshinori chuckled. "Really? Ten years?that would make you like, six."
"Eight, actually. I'm eighteen."
Toshinori's eyes widened, before he smiled. "Where do the years go, my boy," he asked rhetorically.
"Dunno. I still feel fourteen, sometimes.. it's hard to think we've known eachother for four years, now."
Toshinori nodded. "Do you feel a lot lighter?"
"Definitely." Izuku smiled.
Toshinori set a firm hand on Izuku's shoulder again. "Good job being strong, young Midoriya. I'm proud of you, really."
Izuku chewed his lip, taking a deep breath. He had to try to not cry again.
"Thanks," he said quietly, his voice swelling with emotions. "I'm proud of me, too."