MHA Stories from headcannons I found on TikTok

DEKU is stressed!

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting its gentle glow over the dormitories of U.A. High School. Aizawa, known to his students as Eraserhead, quietly made his rounds, checking in on each of them. As he reached Izuku Midoriya's room, he hesitated for a moment before gently knocking on the door.

"Izuku," Aizawa called out, his voice a low rumble.

The door creaked open, revealing Izuku's tired but welcoming face. "Sensei," he greeted with a tired smile.

Aizawa entered the room, his sharp eyes taking in the sight of his student. Izuku appeared worn and weary, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

"Long day?" Aizawa asked, his voice gentle yet probing.

Izuku nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "Yeah, you could say that," he admitted, his voice tinged with sadness.

Aizawa studied him carefully, noting the weight of the world that seemed to rest upon Izuku's shoulders. "You wanna talk about it?" he offered, his tone inviting.

Izuku hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. "I don't know where to begin," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aizawa waited patiently, giving Izuku the space he needed to gather his thoughts. And then, like a dam bursting, Izuku poured out his heart.

"I'm tired, Aizawa-sensei," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "Tired of always feeling like I'm not good enough. Tired of seeing my friends get hurt. Tired of fighting against villains who never seem to stop coming."

Aizawa listened in silence, his heart heavy with empathy. He knew all too well the burden that came with being a hero, the endless struggles and sacrifices that came with the job.

"You're not alone, Midoriya," Aizawa reassured him, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. "We all have moments of doubt and fear. But that doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."

Izuku looked up, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "But what if I'm not strong enough?" he whispered, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Aizawa placed a comforting hand on Izuku's shoulder, his touch a reassuring presence. "Strength isn't just about physical power, Midoriya," he explained, his voice soft but firm. "It's about resilience, courage, and the willingness to keep fighting, even when the odds are stacked against you."

A moment of silence passed between them, filled only with the quiet hum of the night. And in that moment, Izuku felt a glimmer of hope, a spark of determination reigniting within him.

"Thank you, Aizawa-sensei," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.

Aizawa offered him a small smile, his own heart lightened by the knowledge that his words had reached his student. "Anytime, Midoriya," he replied, his voice a steady beacon of support.

As the night stretched on, Aizawa remained by Izuku's side, a silent guardian in the darkness. And together, they faced the challenges of tomorrow, knowing that no matter what trials may come, they would face them together, as teacher and student, mentor and protege. And in the quiet intimacy of that moment, Izuku let slip a word he had never intended to say aloud.

"Thank you, Dad," Izuku murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aizawa's lips twitched into a small smile, a rare display of emotion. "You're welcome, Izuku," he replied, his voice equally soft. "You're welcome."