Chapter Text
He’s floating in a bright empty space. A fiery power flows through his body and throughout every vein. It’s anxious to be used.
To leave.
Izuku outstretches his arms and clasps onto something dry and scratchy. It clings to him gently. Warmth licks the sides of his face and suddenly a burst of heat pushes against him. That burning power leaving him in a sense of relief as if it had been waiting to sleep after many years.
The dryness fades away.
And Izuku feels himself getting cold.
His stomach feels the drop first and he’s falling down. Cold wind pushes against his face roughly now and his surroundings start to freeze. The white space starts to shift and bleed into a darker and darker navy blue and he tries desperately with tired and aching limbs to grab something to stop the fall.
There’s a deep gut instinct that tries to reach for something that isn’t there anymore and dread fills him even more.
He’s still falling…
___
Izuku wakes up with a startle as an alarm blasts into his dorm. Anxiety filling his gut, probably from his dream. He can't quite remember it now but there's no time for that because he looks down at his phone getting blasted with blue light and dopamine as he sees:
Homeroom in 15 minutes!
...15 minutes ago.
"Sshit shitshitshit SHIT!" He shoves off his covers and picks up the closest tanktop-esque thing he can find and puts it over his head. Goodbye soft pajamas, hello scratchy (but also he doesn't really notice it until the end of the day) uniform.
He picks up some dirty socks that were left on his messy floor and smooths down his blazer until he can somewhat convince himself it was ironed (don’t look too close), and grabs his backpack before rushing out of the dorm.’Why, why, why, why?!?! This is what I get for staying up!’ but who could really blame him? He saw a paranoia-inducing video and had to keep scrolling until he found himself NOT thinking about eyes looking at him through his window. Izuku rushes towards the bathroom, quickly splashes water on his face, and brushes his teeth for about a minute.
He throws his toothbrush towards the cup where it was held- and misses but then he just shoves it in there.
Too embarrassed to run. Izuku speed-walks to class and tries to think about ways to make him go faster without having to make it look like he’s sashaying aggressively to class. He thinks he just looks sad. ’I mean, who cares if people see you sashay, you’re just using very good speed walking technique! Really fast! I’M RUNNING!’
With his backpack swinging from side to side semi-aggressively (but only semi cause his Mom spent good money on a backpack with a connecting strap) he winces as he catches a few people staring just a little too long at him. He closes his eyes shut to block them out for a few moments. Focusing on how his heart is pounding almost in slow motion as his breaths feel cold.
’Of course I’m late the day after the first night walk, Aizawa’s gonna think I can’t do this,’ An image of Aizawa’s disappointed face flashbangs in his mind, along with- no- ‘Class, I have to get to class, I can get to class, I can do the walk, I can do this.‘ Lungs tight, and legs moving forward desperately. Izuku runs and-
SLAM
Luckily, his eyes open just in time for him to hold his hands up to protect his nose from the building that leans just a little bit into the sidewalk. But it still hurt.
He groans and some sandy particles scratch against his sleeve and fall to the floor, as he sluggishly lifts up his arms and backs away from the wall. The texture of the wall against his fingertips tickle against his dry skin.
There’s a small prickly feeling coming from the back of his nose, similar to a small concentrated ball of pollen spreading far throughout his nose, so far that-, he rolls his eyes as a warm river of blood make its way down his nostril. He quickly pinches his nose, sighs, and starts breathing through his mouth. ’This is actually so great, thank you Universe, got the message I will not by running.’
Izuku makes his way past what appears to be a leaning ramen shop and ignores the way his chest seems to helps tight. With a deep breath he thinks of other better things. ’Ok, I can see the U.A. building, I’ll stop by the bathroom let this stop-‘ A bloody nose might take too long to stop, what if he accidentally ruptured a vein?! (No, he probably didn’t…right? Right. Right?!)
He takes another breath from his mouth (ew, gross) and speed walks in strides.
A bloody nose isn’t gonna stop him from getting to class.
___
To be fair, he was on his way to class.
Izuku was walking with determination down the halls of U.A., arms swinging, and walls blurring beside him in tunnel vision. Well... he couldn't really call it tunnel vision because sometimes something from the windows catches the corner of his eye or he double checks to see if he's on the right floor, but as he listens to the satisfying clacks of his school shoes echoing through the wide U.A. halls, his somewhat mindless motion comes to a pause as he realizes there is an extra pair of shoes clacking closer to his one.
“Hey you! Stop! You're leaving drops of blood behind!" Izuku flinches at the words as the other steps get faster and his stomach swirls with a nervous energy as he realizes who's behind him. "That's a biohazard, if you know- Izuku Midoriya?!" Recovery Girl stares at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before her face squishes into an agitated growl. "If you know you're injured, then come. to. the. nurses. office!" She seems to have some energy in her this morning as she comically pushes him towards her office and closes the door to the nurse's room behind her.
“Sorry, I had an accident on my way to school,” Izuku sits on a professional doctor's stool with little wheels at the bottom of its five metal legs. Recovery Girls huffs as she comes back holding a small oblong metal bowl with a small pouch of sanitary wipes that’re poking out from her pocket.
“You talk like you're five, I can see that, let go of your nose and bleed into the bowl.” She instructs. Izuku takes away the pressure from his hands and lets the blood drip into the pot. It makes a kind of unsettling noise that’s definitely going to annoy him soon. Recovery Girl cleans up any dried blood from his hands and once she's satisfied, she hands him some gauze. “Why are you late to class?”
“Ha,” the laugh is dry and nervous, he takes the gauze and squeezes hard around his nose, “how’d you guess?” His voice comes out nasally, and his eyes dart away as he waits for her response. Not on purpose. For a while they focus on his shoes across from hers before moving to her desk. Decorated with drawers of all shapes and sizes holding bandages, medicine, and maybe even a snack.
“The bell rang long ago,” she says matter-of-factly. Izuku can feel something in him crumple. Honestly, he thinks it would’ve been worse if he were close enough to hear his lateness. "And you look tired."
Ok, that’s too negative for Recovery Girl’s office right now.
“Yeah, I didn’t sleep very well last night,” and the night before that and the night before that, and the night, well, it’s been many a night. Izuku stares down at the small puddle of blood within the metal bowl, but aside from the blood, he thinks he can make out his distorted reflection staring back at him. 'Do I have really deep eye bags? Is that how she can tell?'
Recovery Girl backs away from him and studies him carefully. As his own little form of personal rebellion, he does it right back. Like with Aizawa, he can tell she’s gotten older. He worries that she might be hurting a bit more in her joints, but she seems to be doing fine. He hopes that she’ll be able to retire soon, but selfishly, he wants her to stay until he graduates at least.
"If you don't sleep now it'll catch up to you later, I don't want you to be like your teacher." She scolds him lightly as she runs off to her desk. He’s taken back to a time where he used to be in here every other week. Being lectured and eating saltine crackers. He had the scars to prove it. Recovery Girl walks back to him.
He feels… sad.
’Has it really been that long?’
A stark pink paper appears next to his face. “Don’t stay up late again.”
Izuku takes the paper, it also feels kind of dry, maybe he needs to moisturize his hands more, “Yes, I’ll try to sleep better tonight,”
“But it was nice to see you in my office,” Recovery Girls sits on her chair and she waves him off, “now hurry, go learn and be late!”
He leaves the room feeling warm.
__
As Izuku makes his way through the wide and open hallways. He sees his saving grace which the wide door is engraved with a huge ‘1A,’ and because his luck is so awesome, the heavy door slides to the side and Aizawa comes out of the room.
Before Izuku can react. Aizawa turns towards him and looks at him with something that Izuku can only interpret as disappointment. He runs his mind for thousands of little excuses but then gratefully remembers the already slightly crinkled slip next to his equally crinkled uniform.
“Aizawa Sensei! I’m sorry for being late, but I have a late pass from Recovery Girl.” He hands it over to Aizawa with two hands and slight bow. Maybe I should bow deeper?
“Are you alright?” Aizawa asks as he takes the the slip. Izuku shuffles in place.
“Yes, I had a bloody nose, I woke up later than usual and uh, well, I ran into a building, yes I need to watch where I’m going-“ man Izuku just won’t stop talking. He’s just spewing at this point and he can’t stop.
“Was this because of the walk?”
No, no no no. It’s not about the walk. His sleep schedule has been anwful for a while now. But he doesn’t think Aizawa needs to know that.
“No, it’s alright really-“ Izuku is scrambling for it not be because of the walk. Anxiety rises in his stomach.
“If it affects your schooling then it might better for you not to be on it, I can talk to Naoki about-“
“No!”
Izuku immediately feels guilty in the silence that follows his outburst. Aizawa stares at him, bewildered. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. He catches a peak of his eyepatch hiding behind his bangs. Izuku starts to feel sick.
Oh, why’d I yell? I don’t usually do that. I don’t yell. I didn’t need to- I can’t be yelling at my teacher. I’m not spoiled I can’t- Izuku presses his lips thinly against each other. Very tightly.
Aizawa breaks the silence and his spiraling off the tracks train of thought, he speaks carefully, “Ok, I won’t talk to Naoki, you can still do the walk,”
Izuku bites his cheek. One of his fists tightens a little. But he does feel a little bit of relief.
“Th-thank you… I’m sorry for yelling.”
Aizawa just sighs and smooths his hair back, eyepatch fully in view. Izuku looks away for a moment. Aizawa’s voice is gentler when he speaks this time, “I won’t take you off if you enjoyed it that much.”
“Ok,”
Izuku feels awkward under his teacher’s gaze. And incredibly childish for basically throwing a tantrum in front of pro-hero Eraserhead.
His teacher takes his folder filled to the brim with paper and stuffs it under his shoulder. “I’ll excuse your absence, can I ask that you start to sleep please? You and your classmates are giving me early gray hairs.”
“Yes…sensei…?” Izuku says confused as Aizawa makes his way past him and towards his next class. But not before:
“...And stop beating yourself up.”
Izuku is briefly reminded about an empty space. His stomach twists a little.
“Yes, sensei.”
Izuku watches as Aizawa walks away. The bell rings and chatter fills the halls. Students go out to talk with their friends for a few minutes as teachers transfer classrooms.
Rough start today, Izuku, rough start… it’s okay, keep going.