Chapter Text
Izuku was no stranger to heartbreak. The first time he experienced it was at the ripe age of four, all because of some fucking toe joint. All he could do was sit on the stool dangling his little legs, staring up at his weeping mother. He wondered if there was anything he could do to prevent this, to prevent his mother from crying like this ever again, because of him, at the very least.
He later found out he could never be a hero. Not now, and not ever. The quirkless were weak, fragile, they weren’t meant to be heroes. They couldn’t even protect themselves, who are they to think they can save others if not themselves?
~
Izuku's second heartbreak came not long after that fateful day. He woke up to thrashing from another room in the house — his parents, he thought. Izuku didn’t have time to even think about how early in the morning it was before he heard voices.
“Hisashi, please! Please, please don’t do this to me! Why are you!- why are you leaving me?” His mothers voice was muffled through the door separating his room from the hallway. Izuku often found his mother in tears, though never this intense.
He wondered what made her so upset. Izuku steadily inched himself out of bed, out from under the covers, creeping over the carpet covered floor reaching for his creaky handle. Nonetheless, he thought better of it and leaned his right ear against the wood of his door instead.
“I won't do it, Inko. I refuse. I’m not gonna embarrass myself by being the father to some underdeveloped kid. You can do that shit on your own, I can’t be bothered, leave with me or not, I don’t care. What’s your choice?” Izuku expected to hear more arguing, his mother defending him, pleading, but he should have known better.
He was instead met with silence, it was so loud yet quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Izuku didn’t know what was going on, why his mother had gone so silent, so he did what he thought was the best course of action at the moment, and started twisting his door handle open.
His mother and father's room were directly across from him, only having to creak the door open an inch or two to see inside, with their door being wide open. Izuku wasn’t sure what he expected. Maybe he expected his mother to be angry, angry that Hisashi had even thought she’d leave her only child. Or maybe, he was expecting her to feel betrayed by his words — that he’d leave her without a second thought.
Instead Izuku's mother was sitting on the edge of their bed, hands between her thighs. Contemplating; Contemplating whether or not she should leave her 4 year old son to fend for himself in the world.
His father must have been getting impatient, because he suddenly sighed, and turned back towards the dressers to continue packing his bags. Izuku directed his eyes back to his mother, curious as to what she was thinking about and what her decision would be. She murmured, barely above a broken whisper, so cautious that Izuku hadn’t even noticed she’d been readying herself to reply.
“I… I can’t, Hisashi. He’s so young, I couldn’t live with myself if I left him alone. Won't you stay, please?” When Hisashi had packed his bags, walking towards the entrance to their room, Inko was quick to stumble off the bed and tail him, desperation leaking into her voice. “I don’t… What did I do to deserve this? Choosing between the love of my life and my only child…” They both passed by Izuku’s door, Izuku himself being endlessly thankful they hadn’t noticed the cracked door, or Izuku’s fervent green eyes tracking their every move, darting across the expanse of the hall.
Izuku could no longer see them, as they were now farther away, and Izuku wasn’t brave enough to peek his head out to see. He decided he’d just need to depend on his sense of hearing.
He heard more shuffling, his mother’s pleading words unrelenting, blending into choking sobs.
Throughout all of this, his father hadn’t said a word. Atleast, not until he was unlocking the front door. He heard his mother's sharp intake of air, surprised her husband was really leaving her.
Leaving her to take care of their quirkless son alone.
Izuku’s head shot up, hearing hurried steps across the floor, his father’s voice following, “Get off of me!”, following what Izuku assumed to be his mother being thrown to the floor. He heard continuous sobbing, and then finally, for the last time, his father spoke to them. His cold tone felt like a whip across the child’s back, leaving burning welts of painful memories seared into his mind.
“I don’t ever want to see you, or that quirkless piece of shit ever again.”
Izuku waited a few minutes after the door had shut to pull his door open just enough to step out, his heart hammering in his chest, breathing in as much air as possible through his nose to calm himself down. His mother’s sobs had hushed, but were clearly far from done.
He tiptoed down the hall with discretion, wincing when his foot landed on the creaky floorboard. He continued down the hall, turning towards the entry, to find his mother sitting, leaning against the front door with her head between her knees.
Awkwardly shifted his weight onto either foot, not sure what to do with himself now that he was no longer in the comfort of his own room. He was about to take a step closer to his mom, when she suddenly lifted her head. Tear stains covered her face — her eyes agitated, bloodshot red like the tip of her nose, likely from rubbing the snot away with her sleeve. She was a sniffling, hiccuping mess, and Izuku had never seen his mother so distraught.
He wanted to help her. He didn’t like this.
But Izuku really, truly looked at her. Under all those tears, under all this sadness and longing, was something else, something that Izuku wasn’t expecting. Something he knew better than to not expect.
Regret. So, so much regret, it was now all Izuku could see. No longer the sadness and longing, the worry for her child being raised alone. No, now all that was left was regret. And suddenly, Izuku understood what this regret was for, what it meant for her and what it meant about him. He knew what his mother was regretting. She was regretting him. She regretted birthing him, regretted his being quirkless, regretted choosing him. She regretted his whole being.
With this realization, Izuku got on his hands and knees, crawling to his mothers side, his back to the door, leaning his head on her shoulder, and cried.
~
Izuku had experienced heartbreak many more times after this, too many times to count yet just enough times to question if these experiences were even considered heartbreak, wondering why it happened to him so often. It wasn’t fair, Izuku had done his research. Normal people, quirked people don’t experience heartbreak like this, so why was it happening to him?
Izuku was convinced nobody could ever hurt him again, after experiencing everything that he’s experienced, and trust when he says he’s experienced it all. From faked confessions and waterboarding, to explosions going off in his face.
That last one though, was the usual. It became part of his routine, when Katsuki had found out about Izukus “condition”, his failure to be more than just an untalented child. Even though it happened so often Izuku wasn’t particularly fond of the feeling of harsh heat in his face, so abrupt and intense. He couldn’t smell the scent of burnt sugar anymore without thinking of explosions. Children laughing at him as he crumbled to the floor, soft green locks turned to singed black tips.
Izuku's everyday routine went something like this: Wake up, get ready, leave for school, get harassed by Katsuki on the way to school because his house just so happened to be on the way there, get to school, scrub his desk clean of any lingering death threats, get through morning classes, get harassed by Katsuki and his lackeys during lunch, get through afternoon classes, get harassed by Katsuki and his lackeys again after school, go home, make dinner, do his homework, sleep, and repeat.
It’s a rarity whenever Izuku sees his mother. She’d taken to doing overtime whenever possible after Hisashi had left, choosing to get away from Izuku for as long as possible. Despite her distance, she cared enough to have left small amounts of money on the kitchen counter every Monday so he could take care of himself. Izuku didn’t mind the silence, the quiet was a nice break from school. At school, he was Deku. At school, he had a persona he had to follow.
But at home? He was just Izuku, the kid with dreams to become a big hero, the kid whose heart had been broken before he could understand the concept of heartbreak. Izuku, no longer Deku.
Katsuki had taken to giving Izuku the nickname Deku when they were only 5. Izuku was still a little kid, naïve and didn’t understand that Katsuki didn’t want to be friends with a weird quirkless kid like him, so he did what little kids did — and followed him everywhere.
That day, it was the park. Izuku, Katsuki, and his group of friends had been sitting by the swings when Katsuki started flaunting the fact that he could read. Katsuki had started reading everyone’s name off a piece of paper, when he realized as he got to Izuku’s name, that it could be read different ways.
“Look,” Katsuki gathered the attention of everyone, “Izuku, did you know that your name could be read as Deku? Pronounced Deh-koo, since you’re so stupid!” Katsuki had repeated himself, enunciating the word harshly.
“Do you know what it means, Deku ? Of course you don’t, it means useless! Fitting, isn’t it? Perfect for a weak, useless, quirkless weirdo like you!”
Izuku could do nothing but laugh along awkwardly, suddenly feeling very out of place. Ever since then, nobody ever referred to Izuku by his real name now, Izuku was just “Deku”. He thinks this might have been when he realized that Katsuki was no longer his Kacchan.
~
Today has possibly been Izuku's worst heartbreak yet, a new record if you will.
It was a Friday morning in the middle of June. It had started off simple, too simple to be true, luring him into a false sense of safety. He had slept through his alarm, already he was running late to first period, which just so happened to be P.E. Hastily getting ready and grabbing a water bottle and granola bar as a pathetic excuse for breakfast, he shoved his feet into the sloppily aligned red high tops and sprinted to school.
Izuku had naturally become a quick runner after being chased home so many days, so he arrived only five minutes after the bell had rung, announcing the beginning of class. Unfortunately, those five minutes were five too many late for his PE teacher, Mr. Tanaka. As soon as Izuku stepped into the gym, Mr. Tanaka called out for him —
“D- Midoriya! You're late! What’s your excuse?” Izuku opened his mouth to reply, to explain that he’d slept in, but Mr. Tanaka had interrupted him before he could even give a reply.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses.” Izuku turned his mouth up at that — why ask if you didn’t want to hear them?— he soured and his teacher continued. “20 laps around the gym. No stopping for water breaks or anything of the sort. If I see you slowing down, it’s another 5 laps.” Izuku didn’t move at first, but was quick to throw his belongings onto the side and begin running when his teacher's voice rang out around the gym, screaming at him to get started.
By the end of class, Izuku was dry heaving into a trash can, legs threatening to give out from under him. When he finally did manage to throw up, he made his way to his second period on trembling legs.
~
It was right after lunch that Izuku's day plummeted further downhill. Izuku thought that Katsuki and his lackeys were giving him a break for the day, as he hadn’t been bothered all of the lunch period.
He should have known better.
Izuku had his bag slung over his shoulder, head ducked down and shoulders tucked in as he walked through the halls, he walked like prey surrounded by predators. It took him a moment to realize that everybody was inching away from him. Or, making room for him? Izuku wasn’t sure. He looked up to see everyone’s eyes on him. To his left, to his right, in front of him, from the back, eyes everywhere.
Izuku was pretty sure he even saw a phone or two pointed his way. What was going on? Why was everyone being so weird? Was there something on his face? Izuku hesitantly rubbed at his cheek to maybe rub off a smudge, when he heard a whisper-yell from somewhere behind him.
“Now!”
Izuku had just enough time to turn his body in the direction the voice came from before one of Katsuki’s lackeys ran up to him and pulled his pants down from his waistband down to his ankles. Izuku was too late, he tried backing up out of reach from the boy, but instead tripped over his feet and fell backwards onto the cold, hard floor.
Izuku heard gasps from every which way, all in sync with each other, and suddenly realized the scars on his thighs were on full display. Izuku quickly reached down to his ankles, trying to pull his pants back up as quickly as he could, missing the first few times due to his hands shaking so violently. On the fourth try he finally got a good grip and tugged his pants back on while still sitting on the floor. He struggled to his hands and knees, using his hands to push himself back up into a standing position.
Izuku finally turned his head up, finding everyone in the hall staring at him wide eyed and jaws dropped, phones in hand. He couldn’t find one student without a phone directed towards him. He looked around, eyes aimlessly searching, darting around to book it to an exit. He only found students blocking every door and path, practically flooding the halls. Just as Izuku was about to tough it out and push his way through the students to his left, the direction to his class, he saw a flash of blonde hair and red eyes.
Katsuki.
Katsuki was here, Katsuki watched him get publicly humiliated, and Izuku thought what Katsuki was doing was possibly worse than anyone else. Instead of recording like everyone else, Katsuki was just standing there. Standing there, with his arms crossed over his chest, and his eyebrow raised in question. Izuku knew exactly what that eyebrow meant.
What are you gonna do about it? Hm? Do something.
Izuku turned around and pushed through the crowd to his right, back the way he came, ignoring the phone cameras following him. Katsuki was right, even though he hadn’t technically said anything. He’d implied it, and that’s all that mattered. Izuku wouldn’t do anything. So instead, Izuku skipped next period and hid in a bathroom stall, fighting away an impending panic attack.
~
Finally , last period had arrived, not any sooner than usual. Last period was English, and nobody really paid much attention in English due to the teacher being an alcoholic who’s hangovers lasted an entire day, so everybody was on their phones waiting for the bell to ring. This was fine with Izuku, because fortunately, he had taken to learning English whenever he was bored and had nothing better to do with the house always empty, he likes to think he’s pretty fluent, so he doesn’t really need an English class anyways.
Un fortunately, since everyone was on their phones, he could also hear the video from earlier being played from every other phone, and whoever didn’t get a video because they weren’t in the hall at the moment was leaning over another student to catch a peak.
One of the students next to Izuku had gotten a video, he watched the video from the corner of his eye, anxiously waiting to see himself be pantsed in front of half his school. Inevitably, the part came — and Izuku cringed when he saw his own scars on video, his body marred in indescribable ways. The student with the phone in her hand seemed to have focused on the scars as well, because she cringed with him. Her grimace was much meaner though.
Izuku hated his scars. They were a stupid, stupid mistake, and he regrets it everyday. He had been so young, and so sad. So tired of being mistreated everyday, he had missed the days where his father would push him on the swings in their favorite playground, and so he took his sadness out on himself. It helped him feel in control, unlike every other aspect of his life.
He had control over this, not his mother, not Katsuki, not anybody. He didn’t understand at the time that scars were permanent. Izuku soon realized that this did nothing to help in the long run. It helped in the moment, but it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t really helping, so he stopped. But his scars are an ugly reminder to himself everyday that everyone is right. His classmates. His father, his mother , the world. Kacchan . His scars are proof that he’s weak. That's all he really is, Deku .
Izuku is startled out of his thoughts by the bell signaling the end of the day ringing, and is quick to shove his belongings into his bag, and run through the doors and straight home. Or, that’s what he would have done if he hadn’t been tugged back into the room by the strap at the top of his bag. Very quickly, the class files out, while Katsuki’s posse stayed behind, making sure that the door behind everyone had shut, leaving just Izuku, Katsuki, and his group. Izuku then hears quiet tutting behind him and turns on his heel, coming face to face with Katsuki.
Katsuki huffed amusingly, tilting his chin up at Izuku.
“Still doing that weird stalk-y thing with your weird hero notebooks, huh?” Izuku had been confused as to what he was referencing, when he suddenly realized he had subconsciously tucked his notebook under his arm instead of shoving it in his bag alongside the rest of his things. Katsuki decides to take this chance to snatch Izuku's hero analysis notebook from him.
Izuku decided against moving to grab it back, knowing nothing good would’ve came from this decision, so he instead waited hesitantly while Katsuki flipped through the notebook. Katsuki didn't spare a second to actually read any pages, instead aimlessly sliding his thumb across them to turn them quicker, more so skimming than actually reading. He continued with pseudo-interest, exaggerating his facial features. Izuku fought the urge to roll his eyes.
Izuku flinched when Katsuki slammed the notebook shut in his hands with a semi-loud explosion.
“You’d think that after being taught the same lesson over and over again, you’d finally learn, right? I guess not!” A smug grin encapsulates his face, he took slow, steady steps towards Izuku, attempting intimidation. “You see, Deku , us normal people, with quirks, I mean, are burdened by having to deal with your shit everyday, you know?” Katsuki finally reached Izuku, placing his left hand on Izuku’s right shoulder, squeezing slightly too tight.
Katsuki continued, “You should be grateful, honestly. That we all take the time out of our day to help you understand how utterly meaningless you are to our society. Do you see what I’m getting at here, Deku ?” Katsuki slowly began leading Izuku to the open window on the other side of the room, side by side.
Izuku was shaking at this point. All he wanted was to get his notebook back, and get the hell out of here. Katsuki, on the other hand, wasn’t done.
“You have, how many of these notebooks now? Doesn’t matter. A shit ton of notebooks about heros and their quirks,” Katsuki and Izuku approached the window, Katsuki holding the notebook in front of him, “And yet you’re still not understanding that quirks are everything. Have you ever heard of a quirkless hero? Because I sure as hell haven’t.” Katsuki then held the notebook up to Izuku. “You see this? This is worthless.”
And with that, Katsuki tossed Izuku's hero analysis, No.13, out the window, into the fountain below. Izuku could feel his breath get caught in his throat.
“If you want to be a hero so badly, I know a real quick way of getting there.” Izuku tensed, he could hear the snickers of Katsuki’s lackeys behind him.
“Pray that you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off a roof!” This was the last thing Izuku heard before Katsuki’s seemingly most intense explosion went off on Izuku’s shoulder. Instantly, the pain overtook all other senses, and he gasped as he fell to his knees, his hand still on the windowsill above him. His brain sent electrifying signals across his body, begging for release from the blinding pain.
He thinks he might have heard Katsuki and his lackeys chuckling as they exited the room, but he’s not sure. He wasn’t sure of anything that happened following that, considering all he could hear was incessant ringing in his ears, and torturous pain from his shoulder.
~
Izuku wasn’t sure how much time passed after that. Likely not long, with scattered amounts of students roamed the halls, but long enough. Izuku got up from his place below the window, using his hands that were supporting his weight on the windowsill to pull himself back up — His fingers flexed and tensed as they pulled him up, body protesting at the sudden movement. Izuku made his way out of the building. He didn’t bother cleaning his wound at school, as he knew it would be fruitless because it’d scar. He also hadn’t restocked his first-aid kit since last week, he just hasn’t had enough money to buy much.
Before heading home, Izuku found his way to the fountain, dipping his hand into the water and reaching for his book. He shook it lightly; careful to avoid tearing the pages out, allowing water to begin dripping out of the soaking pages before taking a detour home.
This time, he’d be taking the long way. He definitely didn’t want to bump into Katsuki again.
Izuku kind of felt like he was floating? Like the world was moving around him, but Izuku was stuck in a small bubble, seeing everything in slow motion, when really, he’s the one in slow motion and everything is moving at the right pace. In moments like these, it’s best for Izuku to listen to some music and tune out the world around him. Izuku very, very carefully pulls his earbuds from his back pocket on his right side, trying not to move his right shoulder too roughly, steadily untangling them and putting them on.
Izuku ended up settling on a more melancholic song — “Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)” by Deftones and continuing on his way home.
The long way to Izuku's house required going through an underpass, and since he’d gone this way so many times after school, he didn’t really think twice before walking through, earbuds still blasting. Unfortunately, he was so lost in his own head and unaware of his surroundings, that he didn’t realize what was awaiting him.
Izuku usually had better spatial awareness, but not when he was floating like this. Sometimes when Izuku is floating, time flies away like a rug pulled beneath his feet, and he’s left to pick the pieces of himself back up.
He goes from one place to another without knowing how he’d gotten there. But, Izuku was still floating, mind and body detached. With his sluggish moments, he hadn’t noticed the presence behind him before being encased by sludge.
Izuku immediately dug his hands out from his pockets, frantically trying to push the sludge away from his mouth, to no avail. He couldn’t breathe. Izuku took a deep breath in, and instead got a mouth full of this mysterious goo. He couldn’t cough . He couldn’t BREATHE . He was trying so hard , why couldn’t he breathe? His lungs burned for air, any attempt at breathing inhaled this substance through whatever orifice he attempted it with.
Flailing, chest heaving hard as he could taste the sting of bile in his throat. Hot tears prickling the corners of his eyes, getting lost into the sludge. He was going to die here. Was trying pointless? He couldn’t grip onto anything. Maybe it was for the better? If he died here. At least now it could be reported as a freak accident? If he even got reported, at that. Who is he kidding?
Nobody cares about some quirkless kid dying, he brought nothing to the world like the useless thing he was.
Just as Izuku accepted his fate and began to shut his eyes, he heard muffled monologuing from somewhere around him.
“It’s alright now, young man! I AM HERE!”
…?
Izuku was losing his mind. That couldn’t possibly be who he thought it was. . right? Maybe the lack of oxygen made him delusional? Definitely.
“TEXAS SMASH!”
At the same time those words were spoken, Izuku felt something (someone?) roughly grab his wrist, before a particularly massive amount of wind blew the sludge villain away from Izuku's body. Izuku immediately fell to his knees, using his hands to prevent himself from collapsing completely like a rag doll. He coughed first, in large portions of sludge, before puking onto the road. After he was sure he was done, since he was pretty sure he didn’t even have the energy to stand up, he rolled over on his back and laid there with his eyes closed.
Until he felt slapping on his cheeks. “Hey! Hey! He- oh! Thank goodness!” Izuku blearly cracked open his eyes as the wind pulled all water away from him, before shooting them open. Holy SHIT . He just got saved by ALL MIGHT. The All Might. Izuku opened his mouth to thank him, but found that he couldn’t process any words due to shock.
His notebook! He frantically looked around for his notebook, hoping to get an autograph from All Might. God, he was so excited! Maybe he could ask All Might a question on the way to the police station? The question?
Izuku finally found his notebook lying near him, but when he went to open up the most recently blank page, he found that All Might had already signed it!! He turned back around to face All Might in shock, and found All Might stuffing bottles into his pants pocket. The sludge villain? Probably.
All Might then turned his focus back to Izuku, “You’re fine, right? I’m running a bit low on time, so I’ve got to get out of here and get this guy to the police, you understand?” With that, All Might started stretching, readying himself to leave Izuku alone once again. “See you on the other side of the screen!” Wait! All Might couldn’t leave yet! He hadn’t even made sure Izuku was okay! Izuku desperately urged his legs to move from under him, but he was too wobbly to stand without falling. He stumbled towards All Might, grabbing onto his pants leg to hopefully keep balance.
The last thing he expected was to suddenly be hundreds of feet in the air. He gripped as hard as he could onto All Might’s leg with both hands, trying hard not to scream. All Might seemed to have noticed rather quickly that he wasn’t alone, “Hey! What are you doing? Let go!!” Izuku ducked his head into All Might’s leg to keep the wind away from his face, even though it’d muffle his voice, “I’m sorry, I just wanted to ask a question! I can't let go now, I'll die!” All Might seemed to ponder this, and realize Izuku was absolutely right. Izuku felt All Might grab onto his backpack to keep him close, coughing at the same time. “Ah, shit. Just hold on tight.”
~
All Might had landed the two of them on an abandoned building in the middle of a run down town. Izuku’s not sure why exactly, but he thinks the blood trailing down All Might's chin might have something to do with that. As soon as they had landed, All Might pried Izuku's hands off his leg as quick as possible, quick to call out that he must leave, and to leave down the roof entrance. Izuku was quick to yell out his pleas, this couldn’t all have been for nothing! He needed to ask All Might his question! Izuku thinks that if All Might gives him the answer he wants, he might just be able to make it in life.
“Wait, please! I have a question! Please don’t leave.” Izuku tried his hardest to get All Might to stay, but he wouldn’t budge. All Might continued walked towards the edge of the roof, as if he hadn’t even heard Izuku at all. Finally, Izuku decided he would just ask anyways. What harm would it do? At least All Might will have heard the question. Then he’ll have to answer, right?
“Even if I don’t have a quirk, do you think I could be a hero?” Izuku shut his eyes, hoping for the best. He waited for All Might's reply, but nothing. There was nothing. Izuku hesitantly opened his eyes, expecting All Might to be gone, and was instead met with the sight of a scrawny old man in front of him. Izuku let out a shocked eep! And stumbled backwards, falling due to his legs still trembling.
Except, this wasn’t just some scrawny old man, right? This… this had to be… It had to be All Might, right? Nobody else was on the roof, and if Izuku looked close enough, the man resembled All Might. Not to mention thefact he was drowning in the All Might suit. Hesitantly, Izuku whispered, just loud enough for the man to hear, “All… All Might?”
~
All Might continued on after this to explain his appearance. Apparently, he had been in some crazy insane fight that left him with a serious injury on his side. Izuku thinks he remembers this fight, remembers watching the videos when he was younger and thinking, Wow! All Might is so cool! I want to be like him when I'm older! And now look at where that’s gotten him.
After All Might finished his explanation, he finally decided to answer Izuku’s question, since there was no reason to be in such a rush to leave anymore. “To answer your question young man, no, you cannot become a hero without a quirk.”
Izuku froze. Of fucking course he should have expected this. What did he think would happen, All Might would start yelling his praises, telling him to never give up on his dreams? Yeah, right. This was proof, proof that Izuku couldn’t prove anyone wrong, because they were right . If the literal symbol of peace was saying it, there was no way for Izuku to continue chasing pointless dreams. All Might continued, “If you really want to help people, you could try being a cop. They help lots of people! Best of luck, young man.”
Izuku didn’t move. He didn’t move while All Might transformed back into his hero form, he didn’t move after All Might left, he didn’t move for a while. Izuku sat there thinking. Thinking about what an idiot he’d been to think that the number one hero would believe a quirkless kid could be a hero. Izuku was upset with himself for even thinking that he himself could be a hero. He hadn’t even put any effort into it! He’s as thin as a stick, no muscle in sight, and all he does is analyze, and where will that get him in the future? Nowhere.
Izuku jerked up when he heard the sound of explosions coming from the distance. A hero fight, maybe? He clutched his notebook to his hand and raced to the fence along the edge of the building. He tucked his notebook under his armpit and gripped the fence with his fingers, searching for the source of the explosion. Sure enough, far out from where he’s standing, there were blinding explosions being released. And Izuku knew these explosions. They weren’t just any explosions, they were Katsuki’s. He’s sure of it.
Izuku's conscience immediately imagined the worst, Katsuki being in trouble and not being saved. Although the thought was impractical considering how noisy the explosions were, Izuku couldn’t help but think that he needed to be there for Katsuki in case he were in trouble.
Izuku swiftly backed away from the fence, tripping over his own feet in a hurry to get to the roof-access door. When he finally made it to the door, he harshly grasped the handle, twisting it down and pulling. It didn’t budge. Izuku tried again, letting go of the handle, grabbing it again, twisting, pulling. Nothing. Maybe it was push, and not pull? Izuku tried once more, ignoring the sound of his heartbeat in his ears speeding up. He twisted, and pushed. Fucking nothing .
He frantically started banging on the door as hard as he could, realizing that the door wasn’t budging . Of fucking course the abandoned building had a broken roof access door. This couldn’t be happening to Izuku, it just couldn’t. Izuku tried one more time, tears clouding his vision, explosions getting louder in the distance. He threw his notebook to the floor, placed his right foot next to the door, and pulled as hard as he could. This time, something did happen.
Izuku fell backwards onto the floor for the third time that day, with the door handle still in his hands, definitely no longer on the door. Izuku could no longer hear anything over the pounding of his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He raised his eyes back from his hands to the door, to find the door still shut. Izuku was completely, and utterly, fucked .