Deku's Secret Illness

Ch.1

Izuku Midoriya's heart pounded in his chest. As he sat in the sterile examination room his shaking hands betrayed his fear. As he awaited the doctor's arrival, his mind raced with questions, what-ifs he couldn't shake. His imagination was running wild with possibilities. It felt like he was running, running from a fate that was bound to be cruel. He knew no matter what it was it wouldn't be good. How could it be? He was Izuku Midoriya, after all, every blessing comes with a world of misfortune, and he had been far too blessed lately. He should have known he would end up here.

His thoughts are interrupted as the door creaks open. Dr. Asano steps inside. He is a quirk specialist with extensive experience in quirk-related disorders. If anyone could tell Izuku what's going on it would be him. The past dozen doctors left him with no answers, so as scary as it was going to be, he was praying this one would have something, anything for him to hold on to.

The doctor's expression was a mix of compassion and professionalism, eyes conveying the weight of the news he was about to deliver. That was never a good sign.

"Mr. Midoriya," Dr. Asano began, his voice gentle yet sober, the type doctors use when they're about to give bad news. A way to give comfort, Izuku thought, but it was anything but comforting. He felt a lump forming in his throat while he waited for the other shoe to drop.

"After careful examination of your symptoms, we have reached a diagnosis. The quirk that struck you during that battle has caused a rare and aggressive condition known as Quirkinduced Cellular Dystrophy."

So it's really that bad, Izuku thought. This is something he won't be coming back from. He knows it, but he can't wrap his head around it.

The doctor continued, explaining the nature of the illness and how it had ravaged Izuku's body. "This condition occurs when a powerful quirk interacts with a person's genetic makeup in a specific way. It triggers a rapid deterioration of the body's cells, leading to a progressive loss of bodily functions."

Izuku listened intently, mind still struggling to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Symptoms of Quirkinduced Cellular Dystrophy include extreme fatigue, muscle weakness, organ failure, and a compromised immune system," Dr. Asano explained, "Over time, the body's vital functions will be affected, leading to a progressive decline in health."

As the doctor spoke, Izuku's mind wandered back to that fateful battle. Why did he have to step in? There were pros on the scene. They had things handled, but Izuku still couldn't ignore the look on that woman's face as she screamed for her child. In the end, it was a misunderstanding. The kid was fine. Izuku wasn't. It could have been anyone, anyone else and they would have been harmless, but it wasn't anyone else. It was him, his quirk mixed with hers. Fate had aligned so perfectly as to completely doom him. The odds were astronomical that that exact quirk combination would occur, yet here they were the 1% chance.

The doctor's voice brought Izuku back to the present. "I'm afraid there is currently no known cure for Quirkinduced Cellular Dystrophy. Treatment focuses on managing the symptoms and providing supportive care to maintain the best possible quality of life."

A heavy silence settled in the room as the weight of the diagnosis sank in. Izuku's eyes filled with unshed tears, but he refused to let them fall. He clenched his fists, summoning every ounce of strength within him. He was determined to face this battle head-on, just as he had faced countless others before.

"Thank you, Dr. Asano," Izuku finally spoke, his voice filled with a quiet resolve. "I appreciate your honesty. I... I won't let this defeat me. I'll keep fighting."

Dr. Asano nodded, his gaze filled with admiration. "I believe in you, Mr. Midoriya. Your spirit has always been indomitable. Lean on your loved ones, and don't hesitate to seek support when you need it."

As Izuku stepped out of the doctor's office, the weight of his new reality settled upon his shoulders. He was fucked. How was he going to tell his friends? His teachers?

Simple- he wasn't.

He wasn't going to tell them.

Maybe it's cowardice to avoid facing their reactions, maybe he was misguided and selfish, making himself into a meaningless martyr, but his decision was clear.

As long as he can help it, no one will know.