Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

today was absolutely going to be in the top 2 of the worst days of his life.

izuku had felt a bad omen nipping at the back of his neck ever since he opened his eyes that morning—
a strange pull from deep inside, whispering to him to stay home and pretend to be sick.

but he didn’t.

of course he didn’t. he ignored the feeling—
and now, he was paying the price.

the price came in the shape of a deep wound in his chest, carved open by the pitying faces of his classmates when he turned in his application form to the teacher… missing one very important detail.

the absence of the letters "U.A."

he had, apparently, applied to a technical high school in tokyo.
one far enough from mustafu to ensure he wouldn’t run into any of his classmates again.

and what did the teacher say?

just a flat, “what a surprise—midoriya is no longer applying to U.A.”

his classmates turned to him the moment the words left the teacher’s mouth.
and all he could do was sit back down and ignore the way their stares burned into his soul.

they had won, after all.

izuku midoriya was no longer applying to U.A. high school.

he was no longer chasing a dream everyone else believed was impossible for him.
and as he picked up his pen again and tried to go back to scribbling whatever thoughts came to mind in his notebook, a sharp sound broke through the silence—
a slow clap, not far from him.

someone was applauding.

when izuku looked up, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see bakugo doing it.

some of his lackeys joined in, and soon enough, most of the class was clapping too—
mocking smiles painted across their faces,
every clap echoing like a slap in izuku’s ears.

…

once the bell rang at the end of classes, he hurried to tuck his notebooks and pens into his bag.

his ears still rang from his defeat at the teacher’s podium, his hands shook with the smallest tremors, and his eyes were no longer the bright suns people remembered—just dark voids staring blankly back at them.

it was odd, though.

once he admitted defeat, it was like every person who had once teased or bullied him simply… lost interest.

he was no longer a target. there were no dreams left to stomp on.

even katsuki had stopped bothering to disturb him.

he still teased him sometimes, sure—but the fists? the explosions? the full-blown rage?
gone.

izuku figured it was because he was already in his place.
and there was nothing left to beat down.

when he finally slipped out of school, he felt an odd urge to take a different route home.

one where he was pretty sure he’d run into katsuki along the way.

the only thing he missed was the quiet gathering of goo beneath the sewer grate beside him—
and by the time he noticed, it was too late.

“a medium-sized disguise,” said an unseen presence—
right before the air in his lungs was stolen.

a rotten slime wrapped around him, forcing its way up his nose and down his throat.
the stench was vile—rank and heavy—and it made izuku gag violently, only for more of the slime to slip past his lips.

he had nothing to fight with. he was being suffocated.
and honestly, he wasn’t even sure if it was worth fighting back.

the goo began to seep deeper into him, and he couldn’t help but laugh—mentally—at how easy it was to stop struggling.

the corners of his vision started to go dark—
until he felt a hand wrap tightly around his wrist and yank him out of the slime’s grasp.

he stumbled onto the ground just as his vision filled with blue light and biting heat.

he scrambled back a few steps and looked up to see the slime engulfed in fire, the intense heat dehydrating it until it dropped to the pavement, steaming and leaking that same foul, rotten stench.

izuku had to cover his nose, eyes scanning the alley, searching for his savior.

but there was no one…

he could still see the scorched marks on the ground where someone had stood—right where the fire had erupted—but whoever it was had disappeared as fast as a blink.

the greenette stood up shakily, grabbed his soaked bag from the sidewalk, and decided it was best to just go home.

as he started walking toward the end of the alley, he heard something fall nearby.

he looked down and saw… a book?

it had no title on the cover, only a strange symbol etched into the corner. the spine looked like it had something written in—arabic, maybe?

without thinking, he tucked it into his bag and continued walking home.

…

“Ex Altiora” was the phonetic translation of the text on the spine of the book.

it was the end of the evening now, the sky darkening and giving way to the rising moon.

the apartment had been empty when izuku arrived.
his mother had left a note on the kitchen counter explaining she had to pull a double shift after a villain attack near the hospital.
she’d left him some takeout in the fridge, which now sat—untouched—on his desk.

izuku found himself sitting on the floor, leaning against his desk, his laptop open beside him and a notepad filled with scribbles and half-finished thoughts as he tried to decipher the meaning of the strange book.

since the text appeared to be in arabic, he had to first figure out how to switch his keyboard to the correct layout.
each keystroke was slow and painstaking—he was completely unfamiliar with the alphabet and had to double-check every letter before typing it out.

the process was frustrating, but also… grounding.
something about the careful effort kept his mind from spiraling.

he wrote down the phrase multiple times:
Ex Altiora
over and over.

he wondered what it could mean.