I wander around an endless void, a mass of inky black, a solid ground beneath me, but nothing to indicate where the ground starts and the sky begins. Out of the corner of my eye, I can feel them. They stand there, rigid silhouettes. I turn to face them only to find an empty space where they once stood. I try again and again to meet their eyes but they're always one step ahead. They're always there, lurking in my periphery, just out of sight. They are a flicker in the dark, a spot of color in the void. As I strain my eyes, trying to make out what little I can see, I can feel their suffocating presence consume me. Their touch envelopes me. It's a bone-chilling cold, devoid of life. It's inhuman. It feels like death incarnate, whispers of ghosts echoing the invisible walls of the space which started to cave in around me. I could feel the room grow smaller, even without sight I could feel it shifting beneath me, closing in on me. It's going to trap me. It's going to kill me. There's still that primitive fear that wraps itself around my spine, making my hairs stand on end, sending chills throughout my tired frame.
I feel the thrill of an inevitable end drawing closer. I'm almost excited to go, to finally rest, to finally stop the endless cycle of thoughts and pain and doubt. I just want peace. I don't want to feel anymore. I don't want to live like this. I don't want to be anything. I especially don't want to be here, but there's still something tying me here. I feel the walls stop. The once spacious void is now a coffin. I bang against its walls begging for someone to release me, screaming my lungs out hoping someone, anyone would hear me and come to my aid. I hear a low, steady voice echo beyond the walls, immediately followed by a sense of relief, lifting a weight iff my chest I didn't know I was carrying. I feel at peace, then I finally make out what it's saying.
"Midoriya"
I flinch at its tone. So gentle, so fragile.
I've hurt them, not physically, but emotionally. My worst fear has come true. I've become the villain I always feared I could be.
"Midoriya, breathe"
I feel a touch break through the walls, but no light comes through the cracks to illuminate the scene. It exists only in touch, in the sensation of a warm hand against my shoulder, another steady against my back, gently rising me so I may sit up, lifting me from my darkened prison.
The world comes in blurs at first. It comes with a bright light and crimson eyes focused intently on mine. It comes in waves of color and and shapes, geometric lines shaping into objects and people and I recognize the man in front of me.
"M-Mr. Aizawa?"
My voice is unsteady, raspy and cracking, it's strained. My speech is forced, each word breaking through an invisible barrier, as if I were underwater, the pressure slowing my movement, making each syllable labored. I push and push, trying to speak, but the name seems to be the only thing I can manage.
"Glad to see you're awake."
His tone is lighter now, calmer, less panicked than it was before. I feel bad for having worried him, but at the very least he's recovering, though from what I'm not sure... shock? Pity? Concern? Or maybe it's an illusion, a pleasantry that he sees as a necessity, his duty as a pro hero.
I try to respond, to thank him for helping me but no words come out when I try to speak.
"Do you know where you are?"
He asks.
I shake my head.
I don't know where I am... I barely remember who I am.
His expression darkens.
"Do you remember what happened?"
Yet again I shake my head no.
Memory is a terribly fickle thing. Here one moment gone the next. Who am I to question it's ancient wisdom? If I am meant to remember I will remember. If I am meant to forget I will forget. I am, however, starting to question this logic as the man's face turns from a concerned frown to a grimace.
"It's obvious you know who I am, so let's try something simple. Do you know who you are?"
I nod. Forcing myself to respond, but it's harder than it looks. Speech is one of those silly things we take for granted. You only realize how much you rely on it when the words refuse to come. When your head is lost in the riptide of your mind even the simple things start to become a constant struggle.
"I-I.. c-...c-can't.. sp-speak.. it's:.. I.."
"Hey, hey, it's ok. Take your time. You're still coming back to me kid. It's ok if you struggle with it as long as you're trying."
I nod, taking a deep breath, my head spinning but my thoughts focused on one thing and one thing only in the midst of the storm. I answer.
"I..I'm I-Izuku...I-Izuku Midoriya..I'm.. a student... at..UA.. You're my.. my teacher..."
"Good, You're doing good kid. Can you keep telling me things you know? Just random things. I need you to come back to me, kid. You can do it.."
He leans me up against a wall and sits down in front of me, holding my hand with a comforting gaze. The storm calms, not enough to free me, but enough to let me breathe, which is a relief.
"K-Kaachan was with me earlier today.. he... he was worried about me. Todoroki was t-there too. Some..thing... hap-happened with my quirk."
"Good. Can you remember anything good after that.. I-Iida and Todoroki were fighting..over me... something about... about a secret? Iida wanted to know.. he wanted to know what happened and I... I didn't want to tell him yet... they started yelling and.. and the bad thoughts got louder... they were mean, but another voice started to defend me"
At that Aizawa raised an eyebrow in intrigue... I'm too out of it to think about the significance of what I just said, but he's here and he's kind and I feel like I can trust him... like he's going to help me... like he has the power to help me.
"Can you tell me more about these voices?" He asks, his tone calm and steady, gaze warm and inviting.
I nod.
"There's one that's always there. It's the mean one. It's the one that tells me I'm not good enough or that no one cares about me... it's normal. It's always been there... the new voice is different. It's wrong. It's not mine. The other voice is me, but this one sounds nothing like me. It's a ghost of sorts, a bunch of different voices merged into one. It was scary.."
"Sounds like it... do you remember what it told you?"
"Ye-yeah...it was arguing with the other voice... It told me it was here to help, but as it spoke I noticed that the pain was back... I was.. sparking, again... I didn't notice at first until todoroki pointed it out... then it got worse. I was arguing with the strange voice, and it was mad at me... I can't remember why. Something about not letting people help?... I realized it was related to the sparking and I started to fight it, but it just made things worse and I blacked out..."
We say there in silence for a bit. Aizawa's eyes were glossy, tears threatening to fall, an expression that seemed unnatural on the man's face. It was something I had never seen before. He pulled me into a hug.
"Thank you for trusting me, problem child. I promise we'll work through this. I'll help you control it.. there's no need to be afraid. I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you. You're safe here, kid. You're safe."
I hadn't realized it, but I hadn't felt safe in a long, long time... I'd normally hesitate, but I couldn't help but believe him. So I cried. I. Cried and cried and cried, soaking his shirt with my tears as he held me against his chest and leaning my head on his shoulder, giving me a safe haven with his warm embrace.
It reminded me of my Mom, of how she would hold me when I was little and got hurt. How she would make me feel safe and chase all the demons away. It was nice. It felt like home, something I haven't had in a long time.
It was then that I realized the fog had lifted. The waters of my head were calm, the waves steady, the pressure in my throat disappeared. I was free.
"Thank you."
"No problem.. Welcome back, kid."
