Healing

The First Step

"Hey, Deku!"

It's hard to tell when someone isn't themselves sometimes.

"Uraraka! H-Hi!"

It's because the first emotion you feel, after realising there's something wrong with you, is shame for the thoughts that enter your mind when you know they shouldn't be there.

"I-Is there something you need?"

Your next instinct is to hide them away, bury them if you can, otherwise suffer subtly, to make sure people don't think of you differently.

"N-No not... really it's just... lunch is about to end and I can't help but... notice that you haven't eaten anything. N-Not that I've been spying on you or anything!"

Your next instinct is to blend into the background, be quieter and less of a main character, just to draw less attention to yourself and only talk when you are talked to, at least until you de-root the issue.

"O-Oh!"

Then comes the point when you trick yourself into thinking you are okay, and your new behaviours are a matter of adaption - a new norm that will benefit you - and you start listening to the voices in your head, believing them.

"I-I'm not that hungry anyway. It's okay, I'll eat something after school finishes!"

Even saying those words made his stomach seize up in disgust.

"O-Okay," and he doesn't dare make eye contact, "If you're sure you'll be okay until then. I have spare snacks if you need them though!"

"I'll remember to ask you if I do feel hungry later," Izuku smiles.

The plastic of his lips is wrenched into shape.

Izuku has been on the radar of certain people in class 1-A. He seemed to deliberately avoid starting conversations, which is so unlike him since he has always naturally been social. It's rare to see him outside of classes since he's always up to something and, the few times people have knocked on his door, there has been a lack of response. Only recently have they been catching on him avoiding eating, at least around people.

For Izuku, this has been going on as of three months. It started with a commercial that played on TV advertising a hero campaign on a crisis that occurred from a war in South Japan. Mina had casually commented on how 'fit' everyone looked and Izuku, coming to a sudden epiphany, couldn't un-see it. How built and muscular everyone looked, with slender waists and sharp jawlines, very mature. No chubby cheeks or freckles or flimsy muscles like him. He then looked around the room, from person to person, admiring slender but perfectly bulky figures, aristocratic faces, toned and blemish-free skin. Feeling the web of insecurity stick to him, he got up, pretending to rub his eyes in fatigue and saying something about sleep before walking with slight haste to his room.

He stripped down once the door closed behind him, and stepped into the brightly-lit bathroom, showcasing his disfigured, scarred limbs, large thighs and round, fleshy cheeks. He trembled a little, eyes shooting like flies between every flaw, from his dishevelled curls to his calves, the shape unattractive. He took a few steps back, his breath picking up to get past the lump in his throat. And, out of nowhere, a voice in his head spoke.

Ugly

His breath hitched, eyes filling with tears, heart plummeting at the painful realisation.

No! It isn't true! It can't-

He tried not to think about it as he got into the shower, the boiling water scalding against his skin, but it wasn't enough to thaw the cold that suddenly bit into his flesh.