Todoroki avoids him the rest of the day. He’s not obvious about it, it’s just a matter of Izuku recognizing what he himself does when avoiding someone. The moment they release for lunch, Todoroki vanishes without a word. He never gives Izuku a nasty look, he doesn’t give Izuku a look at all, he’s just... gone. But unlike Izuku, he doesn’t have notice-me-not to assist, Todoroki is just that good. Which leads into another problem.
It’s been gnawing at the back of his mind since the beginning of the year. The hesitance to talk to people, the comfort in being alone, the fear when someone sees his injuries, Todoroki’s actions mimic Izuku’s when he was in elementary and middle school. Thing is, Izuku’s mistreatment stems from his perceived Quirklessness. He doesn’t want to think about what could be Todoroki’s reason, but the other teen is hurting, he’s hurting every moment he sits in that chair and pretends bruised ribs don’t make it hard to breathe. But Izuku doesn’t know what to do, it seems to be the one constant thing about him.
Before this morning, Izuku would’ve dared to call him and Todoroki friends, but where they stand now is anyone’s guess. What he knows for sure is that if he brings this up, alludes to it in any way, Todoroki will tear apart any connection between them, if there still are any. Izuku’s really messed this up, didn’t he? The guilt’s stuck with him since the shower, clinging to him like soot. Which is why when Todoroki vanishes, he doesn’t try to follow.
Even with the sun shining on the lunch table, he doesn’t feel warm. Uraraka’s talking to Iida, but their words are muffled compared to how loud his thoughts are. His sandwich tastes bland even though his mom loves to season their food. Nothing’s as it should be.
He jerks away when someone pokes him.
Uraraka retracts her hand, “Are you okay, Midoriya? You’ve been acting kinda weird all day.”
“Your behavior has indeed been abnormal.” Iida agrees, his lips pulling into a frown. “Did something happen?”
“N-nothing’s wrong!” Izuku squeaks, “I’m just... er...” the answer comes in a flash of brilliance, “nervous about what I should say for the Sports Festival.”
Uraraka blinks, “Oh, is that it?”
“Uraraka, public speaking is one of the most common fears.” Iida sighs, putting his food down, “Do you have any ideas, Midoriya? If not, I would be glad to assist you. It’s my job as class president to assure that all classmates are properly prepared and—“
Izuku interrupts before Iida can get into the swing of a full on lecture. “T-thank you, Iida, but I have to do this myself. I’ll never learn if I rely on people to do it for me.” The words are truer than Uraraka and Iida can ever know. No one ever tried to help him with his problems or stop Bakugou. The responsibility always fell on him.
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A Wallflower's Thorns
FanfictionIzuku Midoriya/96,438 words Maybe one day he'd be unafraid to tell people that he existed. Stand tall and announce that he was, in fact, there. For now though, he was more than content going day to day, weaving past his classmates and having them no...
