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Chapter Text

August 30th
─── ⋆⟡₊⊹°☆°⊹₊⟡⋆ ───

Izuku stared up at his dorm room ceiling. It felt weird to be back at school, as if nothing had changed. But everything had. They had fought Shigarake and All for One. They won. He curled onto his side, staring out the window at the faint light from the rising sun. He'd have to get up soon, and get ready for the day. He'd spent most of the summer in the dorms, avoiding his mother, avoiding everyone. He'd texted that he was still in the hospital, even though he was released a month into it. UA had allowed him to hide here. He was amazed they'd even let him stay in the hero course. 

He curled his fingers, searching the for the once familiar feeling of One for All under his skin, and all he could find was the cold feeling of emptiness surrounding the dim embers of his quirk. He sighed, sitting up slowly, muscles still aching from his injuries from months ago. Recovery Girl had healed what she could, but he'd have to work out the stiffness over time. He'd tried, over the summer, but everything had hurt, and he kept getting yelled at for slowing down his healing by working his muscles too hard. 

He stood, shuffling off to the showers with his towel slung over his shoulder. He avoided the mirrors, heading straight for the stall to take a shower. He hated looking at himself now. He'd only managed to look in the mirror long enough last night to cut his hair. He knew it had looked ridiculous, having only one side shaved down from when the doctors had to put stitches in his hair line. The scar was still tender. He was sure it still looked ridiculous, since he had cut it himself, trying to even out his hair so both sides were shaved down. It's just hair, he reasoned, it will grow back eventually. Unlike his quirk.

He shoved the thought down. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself. The other students would be back today. Well, whoever decided to return. He'd left his phone off all summer, not wanting to see the questions, or the pity. He hadn't even bothered to go home for his birthday. He didn't feel like celebrating. Aizawa checks on him from time to time. Mostly making sure he's alive. He appreciated the quiet comfort his sensei would give. No words, no pity. Just silent presence. Even in the moments where he'd break down in the corner of the gym, sobbing, curled into a ball. Aizawa would just sit there, close enough to have an arm or a leg touching him, grounding him, but not speaking a word. He suspected his sensei had nightmares that kept him up as well. They all probably did. 

Izuku stood under the water, letting the heat soothe his tired muscles. He tried to think back to the last time he spoke aloud to anyone. Unseeing, unmoving crimson eyes flooded his memory. He gasped, opening his eyes under the steaming water. Apparently it was going to be his greatest hits playing whenever he closed his eyes today. It was going to be a long day. He quickly finished washing himself, turning the water off. He was drying himself off, when he heard a door shut in the dorm. 

He realized he probably should have grabbed his robe too, he'd gotten too used to being the only one in the dorm all summer. He wrapped his towel around his waist, and sighed, pushing the door to the bathroom open and stepping out into the hallway. He hoped whoever it was would be too busy unpacking to see him. When he looked around, and came face to face with those same crimson eyes from his nightmares he realized that his luck has never been particularly good lately. 

All things considered, Katsuki looked good. His blonde hair was clean, still spiky and was probably still impossibly soft to the touch. He pushed that thought down as he took inventory of his friend's appearance. A scar ran down his cheek, the only imperfection on that annoyingly perfect face. His right arm was still in a sling. He ignored the echoing sound of a bone being set that jumped through his memory, unwelcome. He was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, which Izuku was secretly grateful for. He didn't want to think of the scar that no doubt covered the center of his chest, the evidence of the in the field surgery that had been performed on his heart. 

Katsuki stared at him, as if seeing a ghost. Maybe he was. Izuku felt like one. "Deku." He took a step towards him, "Where have you been?" 

Izuku opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, and simply gestured around him. He wasn't sure if his voice even worked anymore, and he really didn't want to hear it crack in front of Katsuki. 

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at him. Ah yes, there it is. The familiar anger. Leave it to his Kacchan to not disappoint him. "You're not even going to talk? Everyone has been worried sick about you. No one knew where you were, your mom hasn't heard from you in months. You didn't even come to see anyone at the hospital!" He took another step towards him, and Izuku took a step backwards. "Do you think you're too good to visit all of us? Huh? Mr. Hero of Japan?!" 

"Bakugo, that's enough." Ah yes, saved by their teacher. It felt almost pathetic. Izuku looked at the floor when Aizawa stepped beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment. "Go to your room and get dressed, Midoriya."

He nodded, walking towards the stairs. He would have taken the elevator, but he didn't want to have to walk past Katsuki to get there. He paused on the stairs, trying to listen to the conversation down the hallway. He hadn't realized how much he missed the sound of other people talking. Of Katsuki talking. 

"Bakugo, don't blame Midoriya. He couldn't visit anyone. The hospital banned him from visiting." Aizawa's voice was calm. 

He heard Katsuki scoff. "What the fuck are you talking about?" 

"I thought your parents would have told you." He heard the unmistakable sigh from their instructor. "When they brought you in, Midoriya wouldn't leave your side. He wasn't eating. He wasn't sleeping. They even tried sedating him, but they would end up hurting him more than helping when they tried to restrain him. He was killing himself, slowly. They thought the best course of action would be to ban him from the hospital. He's been recovering on his own, here."

"Eh? Why wouldn't he just go home to rest?"

"He didn't want to be home, and he was already having to see Recovery Girl on a daily basis anyway, so Nezu decided he could just stay here." Katsuki must have made a face of some sort, because Aizawa sighed again.

He heard the door to the common room open again, and Izuku decided that retreating to his room would be better than facing more questions while he was in his towel. He should not have been eavesdropping anyway. He got dressed, mechanically, not even paying attention to the shirt he grabbed. School wouldn't start for two more days, so it's not like he needed his uniform yet. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, listening to the other students shuffling in to unpack from the end of summer. Part of him wondered if anyone had opted to not return to school. He made his bed, and picked up his laundry. Keeping his room clean had been an oddly calming part of his summer when he had nothing better to do. It kept him from thinking while he was cleaning. Maybe he was keeping it clean so whoever came to handle his stuff when he died wouldn't have to clean it. It was a morbid thought, one he'd had many times over the summer. It was often accompanied by other thoughts. 

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts down. He'd worked too hard to be here. He'd prove he still deserved to be here, right? He sighed, knowing if he skipped meals again, Recovery Girl would probably make a special visit to hit him with her syringe cane. Might as well get this over with. He glanced around the room, making sure it was tidy before quietly exiting and wandering down to the common room. He was surprised to see most of his classmates lounging, and they had been in the middle of talking, but the second he walked into the room, it was deafeningly silent. 

It was Ochaco that broke the silence. She stood, running towards him, and he involuntarily flinched as she threw her arms around him. "Izuku! We've all been so worried about you!" He stood there, frozen, arms at his sides, blinking. There was no time for tears right now, that was for later. She seemed to sense his unease. "Are you okay?" She stared up at him through her lashes, her auburn eyes misty with tears. She released him and stepped back, a sad expression on her face.

He nodded slowly, giving her a weak half smile. It would have to do for now. The rest of the students approached him now, Ochaco had apparently broken the ice for them. Mina pushed forward, "You haven't responded to any texts, Izuku, did you lose your phone?" He shrugged.

Kirishima gave him a look of concern. Izuku noted that his red hair was longer, hanging down past his shoulders now. "Did you hurt your throat, Midoriya? Is that why you're not talking?" His red eyes were too close to Katsuki's, too familiar. He took a step back, hands shaking. 

The group pushed in further, and Izuku stared down at the floor, taking another step backwards. "Midoriya?" He could hear Sero's voice. "Hey man, are you alright?" A hand reached for him, and he jumped back, away from it. His back bumped into the wall, and he could feel his pulse racing. He closed his eyes.

"I do hope you have all unpacked already to be spending so much time harassing Midoriya." Damn, Aizawa to the rescue again. He was probably going to have to thank him at some point. "As for you, Midoriya." He opened his eyes, glancing at his sensei. "You know the rules. If you skip meals again, you'll be force fed by Recovery Girl. Go eat something." 

He nodded, grateful to be sent out of the common room. He retreated to the kitchen, opening the fridge and reaching for a bottle of water. Aizawa's voice from the common room, "Water is not a substitute for a meal, Midoriya. At least grab a protein shake." He scowled, grabbing the protein shakes he was sure Aizawa stocks in there overnight, as they just kept appearing when he'd run out. He closed the fridge with a sigh, and turned around to lean against the counter with his protein shake, only to be face to face with Katsuki again. He was sitting on a bar stool on the other side of the island, staring at him. He jumped and a wave of embarrassment washed through him. 

He could hear the whispered conversations coming from the common room while he stood in the dim kitchen, staring at Katsuki. He watched those deep red eyes assess him. His messy green hair, probably looking like it had been cut with all the care of a toddler, he briefly wondered if his green eyes looked as dead as he felt. He'd lost muscle mass during his recovery, and had been trying to work it back up in the gym every day, but it was a slow process. He knew he'd lost weight. Even without a mirror, he could see his own ribs when he changed or showered. He could see how his own clothes hung on him. Maybe this is how All Might felt after he lost One for All. Would he too, look like a walking skeleton eventually?

Katsuki's gaze wandered down to the protein shake in his hand, unopened. He sighed. "Sit down and drink the damn shake, nerd. I'm not going to bite you." 

Would biting be so bad? His cheeks flushed, and he stepped around the kitchen island to pull himself up on the chair next to Katsuki. He uncapped the bottle, taking a sip and staring down at the countertop in front of him. Katsuki had a bottle of water in front of him, which he picked up with his left arm and struggled to unscrew the cap with his arm in a sling. Izuku held out his hands, wordlessly offering to open it for him. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at him, but handed the bottle over reluctantly. Izuku opened it, setting the cap on the counter, and handing the bottle back to Katsuki. He took another sip of his protein shake, sitting in the silence of the kitchen. 

Katsuki scoffed, and Izuku glanced at him. "I know there's nothing wrong with your voice, Deku. I asked Aizawa. I don't know why you're not speaking, but you and I are going to have a conversation eventually. You can't put it off forever." Wanna bet? He nodded staring at the bottle cap that was on the counter so that he wouldn't be tempted to stare at those eyes. 

Iida wandered into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at the two boys sitting at the counter. "We're going to make some lunch in a little bit. Will either of you be joining us?" Izuku shook his head no, and held up his protein drink when Ida frowned at him. "Midoriya, you need to eat actual food. You're already scary thin, and you're never going to be able to become a pro hero if you don't get the proper nutrition." His voice was stern and Izuku winced at the choice of words.

He stood and raised the bottle to his lips, throwing his head back to down the entire chalky liquid, and stalked over to the trash can to toss out the empty bottle before leaving the kitchen. He could hear Katsuki scoff as he exited. "Happy now, four eyes? You fucking chased him off." 

He thought about going to his room, but he didn't want to get cornered in the hallway or the stairs by anyone else, so he opted instead to walk through the common room, sliding his red shoes on and slipping out the front door. He could feel the eyes on him as he left, but he didn't look back. He couldn't face them right now. 

He jogged to the gym on campus, stopping by the locker room to tape up his hands and feet. He'd have to take better care of his joints since he no longer had the massive force behind his strikes that he had gotten used to. The gym was still empty, as most students were still relaxing in the final days before school started back up. He headed towards the punching bag in the corner. Hardly anyone used them, since most quirks were either power quirks that would completely destroy the bag, or they didn't need hand to hand combat to use their quirk. He sized it up, shaking his limbs out and stretching. 

He lost himself to the kicks and punches to the bag, anger being thrown into every strike. He trained for over a year. He fought non stop. He spent months on his own, rounding up escaped criminals. He stopped Shigaraki. He stopped All for One. All that work, just to end up back at square one. It wasn't fair. All might kept it for 40 years. Izuku got it for one year. One damn year. All he had left was the dim embers that would fade and leave him useless and quirkless again. The vestiges were gone. He worried the more he used the embers, the faster they'd burn out. 

He had pretended to be okay with the decision of the vestiges. To be happy that they had won. He hadn't wanted Tomura to die. Despite everything, he had still believed he could be saved. The mental image of Katsuki's lifeless body on the ground invaded his thoughts. He kicked the bag again. After everything, Kacchan still hated him. His chest ached. Did Kacchan know? He had to know that Izuku was worthless again. Didn't he? 

He had realized before he even left the school to hunt down the escaped villains that he'd loved Katsuki his entire life. He hadn't been good enough to stand by his side before he had a quirk. In a year of training with One for All, he still hadn't earned that right. Now he'd never be good enough. Why was he even still trying? What was he trying to prove? Why did he even come back to UA? He kept hitting the bag, sweat dripping down his face and neck. 

He punched again, and the image of Tomura's face flashed through his mind, followed by the sickening crunch his fist had made against the bone. The sweat on his hands caused his wrist to slip and he hit the bag wrong, pain singing through the joints in his wrist. He slumped to the mat, bringing his knees up to his chest and cradling his wrist. He huffed, annoyed at himself and angry at life. Tears stung his eyes. He was so tired of crying. 

He lowered his head to his knees, letting a sob break free. Maybe if he got it out here, he'd be able to hold it together in front of his classmates. He heard someone quietly lower themselves next to him, and he half expected it to be Aizawa again, instead the hand that touched his was cold. He lifted his head to see that familiar red and white hair. Shoto was sitting on the mat next to him, knees bent in front of him, one hand just sitting on his. He wasn't looking at him, wasn't asking him questions, wasn't holding him in place. Just a cold, grounding touch over his injured wrist. It felt gentler than an ice pack, but cold enough to soothe the pain and swelling that was starting to set in. He didn't feel the pity, or disgust. No judgement, just presence. Izuku lowered his head again, letting the tears fall quietly while Shoto sat next to him in silence. 

They sat there for awhile, until Izuku felt like he was probably dehydrated from crying. He lifted his head, wiping his face against his sleeve. Shoto finally turned to look at him, pushing himself to his feet. Izuku sighed, getting ready to stand too, and a hand was in front of his face, reaching down. He glanced up, seeing Shoto offering him a hand to help him up. He accepted the help up, feeling embarrassed. Shoto pulled him to his feet, and quietly followed him to the locker room. 

When he sat on the bench to unwrap his hands and feet, he was surprised by Shoto kneeling in front of him, and gently taking one of his hands to unwrap it for him. Izuku blinked at him as he took the other hand, unwrapping that as well. Gray and turquoise eyes met his green ones. "It's okay to accept help, Izuku. You don't have to do things alone." 

Izuku blinked at him again, if he hadn't already completely dried out his tear ducts, he'd probably be crying again. Shoto picked up one of his feet and set to work at unwrapping that as well. He pulled Izuku's sock over his foot, and slipped his shoe on, repeating the process on the other foot, and tied the laces for Izuku. He was so confused, but he accepted the care, even if he felt like he didn't deserve it. 

Shoto stood, brushing off his own legs. "Come on, I'll walk with you to see Recovery Girl." He held his hand out to Izuku again to help him up. He followed him out of the gym, walking through the campus. Shoto lifted his head, inhaling deeply as they walked. "The lavender is still in bloom. Can you smell it?" 

Izuku sniffed, trying to find the smell, and the wind blew by them, wafting the soft scent of the lavender flowers to him. He nodded, walking next to Shoto. He glanced sideways at him, his face was sad, but somehow strangely peaceful. He wondered whether the war they had been a part of still waged itself inside his head too. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly, sighing. 

"It's okay if you don't feel up to talking yet, Izuku. I don't expect a response. When you have something you want to say, you'll say it when you're ready." Shoto continued walking, letting the silence stretch. It was calm, relaxing even. Izuku was almost a little sad when they reached the nurse's office. 

Izuku expected that he'd leave him there, but instead he stepped into the office with him, standing quietly behind him. Recovery Girl looked up from her computer. "What did you do this time, Midoriya?" 

He cradled his wrist anxiously hating that anytime he opened his mouth, sound didn't seem to want to come out. Shoto stepped forward. "He was practicing in the gym, his hand slipped on the punching bag. He didn't do it on purpose, Recovery Girl." He gave Shoto a grateful look. 

Recovery Girl tutted at him, directing him to sit on a chair so she could examine his wrist. "At least this time you didn't injure yourself while you were alone again." She moved his wrist around, making him wince. "It looks like a sprain, that's all. I'll wrap it for you, and I want you to ice it when you get back to your room. I refuse to keep healing you if you keep being reckless and injuring yourself by pushing yourself too hard, Midoriya." He nodded at her as she wrapped his wrist in a bandage. "You need to stop being so self destructive, dear. Did you eat today?" He started to nod again and she added, "Something besides a protein drink?" He shrank in the chair. She gave him a stern look. "Midoriya, I will sedate you again and hook you up to an IV to get you nutrients if you continue to starve yourself. Is that what you want?"

He shook his head no, panic rising in his chest, glancing at Shoto who had turned to look at them. He never wanted anyone to know that they had to do that to him when he first got back to the school. "I'll make sure he ices his wrist and eats something for dinner."

She pursed her lips at him, "Please see that you do." She turned back to Izuku. "And you can't spend the rest of your life not speaking. You won't always have someone to speak for you, or a piece of paper to write with." Izuku stared down at his hands. 

He felt a chill next to him as Shoto moved to stand in front of him. "If that's all, I am going to walk back to the dorms with Midoriya." He bowed his head, offering his hand to Izuku again. Shoto's behavior was confusing the hell out of him, but he was grateful for someone to step in for once. Recovery Girl had been losing her patience with him lately. He felt guilty, but it's not like he was injuring himself on purpose. He'd just have to try harder at adjusting to life without a quirk again. 

When they stepped through the front door into the common room, he could feel the curious eyes on him. "Midoriya, what did you do to your wrist?" Iida's usual loud voice made him shrink back again. He could see Iida hesitate, his eyes reflecting hurt at Izuku's reaction to him. 

Katsuki's glared from across the room. "Did you hurt him Icy-Hot?" Izuku frantically shook his head no, he didn't want Katsuki to be angry with Shoto. 

Shoto sighed and he tilted his head towards Izuku, "Go ahead and take a shower, I'll be up in a minute to bring you some food and help you rewrap your wrist, okay?" Izuku nodded, toeing his shoes off, and heading towards his room to grab his towel again. 

He could hear Katsuki still arguing with Shoto. "Just because he shook his head, doesn't mean you didn't hurt him. Deku would fucking lie to keep someone else from getting out of trouble."

"I didn't hurt Izuku, Bakugo. That's generally reserved as your job." 

"Oi, what the fuck did you say?" 

"Did you finally lose your hearing from all your impulsive explosions?" 

"Say that to my face you dumb bastard!"

"I just did."

Izuku sighed, pushing himself to climb the stairs. He should thank Aizawa later for placing him on the second floor instead of the fifth. He probably wouldn't be able to avoid someone seeing him in the bathroom this time. He grabbed his towel from this morning, heading down to the shower. He sat on the bench outside the shower stall, trying to avoid looking at anyone that was in there. He pulled his shirt over his head, hissing at the pain that ran through his back and ribs at the movement. He set his shirt next to him, inspecting his side to check the healing progress on his ribs after falling during an obstacle course he tried to run the other day. He realized that the large purple and black bruise was probably what Katsuki could see earlier. 

"Jeez dude, you look like someone hit a skeleton with a truck." His head shot up, spotting Mineta who was staring at him. "Did someone hit you with a dessication quirk or something? I can see all your ribs." 

Kirishima, who had been washing his hands at the sink glanced at Izuku in the mirror. "Mineta man, you're being rude. Leave Midoriya alone." 

"But he looks like he hasn't eaten in a year, how is that my fault?" Mineta whined. If there ever was a student Izuku wished hadn't returned, it'd be Mineta. 

A small jolt of electricity snaked across the room, causing Mineta to jump. "What the hell, Kaminari?" 

Izuku watched Kaminari frown at Mineta and cross his arms. "Stop being an idiot, Mineta. Don't make fun of Midoriya." Kaminari turned his head slightly to look at him, giving him a soft smile before dragging Mineta out of the bathroom with him. 

He sighed, unwrapping his wrist, inspecting the bruise that was already settling under the skin. He finished stripping, and turned on the shower head. He leaned his forehead against the wall, staring down at the drain in the floor. How the hell did he get here? None of this had ever been the plan. He was going to be a hero damnit. He technically still had his license. Would they take it from him? 

"Izuku, you need to eat." Shoto's voice cut through his spiraling. He must have stood under the water for too long. He turned the shower off, and grabbed his towel, patting himself dry before wrapping it around his waist. He'd forgotten his robe again. Oh well. Half the guys have already seen his scarring and bruises. When he turned, Shoto was leaning against the edge of the stall with his back to him. "Come on, let's get you up to your room. Pretty sure you don't want to eat in the kitchen with everyone else?" 

Izuku nodded, picking up his clothes and the bandage wrap for his wrist. He followed Shoto out into the hallway, almost bumping into him when he paused. "Do you want to take the elevator or stairs?" Izuku turned towards the stairs and started walking. "Alright." Izuku could feel Mineta's slimy gaze on him as he unlocked his door and stepped inside. To his surprise, Shoto followed him in, looking around after he flipped on the light. "It's different in here. You took down all the All Might posters." 

He flinched. He didn't want to explain why. He didn't want to explain that he had gotten back to his dorm after being kicked out of the hospital and how he had been given a speech from All Might. He could still feel the pity in his eyes as he told him that they were grateful for his help in defeating All for One. That they'd figure something out for him. How All Might had suggested he transfer to either general studies or support classes. How it was for his own safety. How angry he'd been when he ripped the posters from the wall, or how trashed his room had been when he was done breaking apart at the seams. He didn't want anyone to know how he'd laid in the middle of the destruction, sobbing as if he was dying. He didn't want them to know how he'd given in, laying in a puddle of his own blood on the floor before Aizawa found him and carried him to Recovery Girl. If you looked at it in the right lighting, you can still see the stain on the floor. 

"Izuku?" He jerked, the soft voice pulling him from his thoughts again. Izuku forced himself to smile at him, turning to grab his pajama pants and underwear. "You don't have to do that you know." He paused, confused. "You don't have to pretend to be happy. I won't judge you for being upset." He realized Shoto was facing the door, giving him privacy to get dressed. He pulled on his underwear and pajamas, sitting on the edge of his bed with a huff. Shoto cautiously turned around to face him, and Izuku finally realized he'd been holding a container in his left hand. He set it on Izuku's desk, pausing to look at the dresser that would normally have a mirror above it, but it was missing. He didn't comment on it. He picked up Izuku's towel, draping it over his wet hair, ruffling it to dry him off. 

Izuku watched him curiously while he hung the towel up on the wall before picking up the bandage wrap and kneeling in front of him. He watched silently while he gently wrapped his wrist for him. When he was done, he stayed there, sitting back on his knees. "Izuku, I know." He tensed, clenching his uninjured fist. "Don't worry, no one told me. I overheard it when I was in the hospital. They thought I was asleep. Is it really gone?" 

Izuku inhaled deeply, and let out the shuddering exhale. He nodded.  Shoto reached for his hand, and hesitated, staring up at him from the floor. "I don't think anyone else knows." Izuku felt the tears pooling at the edges of his vision. Damn, he thought he'd gotten it all out of his system in the gym. He blinked, trying to force the flood back. "I do think you should be the one to tell them, when you're ready. Anyone that is truly your friend won't think any less of you." He finally set his hand on Izuku's. Comforting, grounding. "I don't think any less of you." He stood, pulling a plastic bag out of his pocket. It was empty until he filled it with ice from his right hand. He held it out to Izuku. "For your wrist." 

He gestured towards the container he left on the desk. "That's miso soup. We thought maybe your stomach would hurt from eating anything more solid, but the broth will give you some nutrients and calories." Izuku raised an eyebrow at the use of the word 'we.' As if he heard the unspoken question, Shoto explained, "Bakugo made it for you. He said something about my cooking being poison and how it would be considered attempted murder." He shrugged. "Please try to drink as much of it as you can. And Izuku?" He paused hand over the doorknob. "Even if you don't tell anyone else, you should tell him. He cares more than he lets anyone know." Izuku nodded again. "Also, can you do me a favor?" He pointed to the cracked phone sitting on Izuku's bedside table. "If that thing still works, please turn it on. Your friends have missed you, Izuku."