The next morning, Izuku slipped through the halls of U.A. like a ghost, his hoodie pulled up over his head. His usual calm, indifferent expression was plastered on his face, and his eyes scanned the crowds of students without much care. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to sit through another day of pretending to care about being a hero. But he had to show up—keep up the act—at least for now.
He found his usual spot in the back of the class, slouching down into his chair as Aizawa began his lecture. The room buzzed with the energy of eager students—students who still believed in the dream of being heroes. But Izuku had checked out. To him, it was all noise.
As Aizawa droned on about strategy and tactics, Izuku's mind wandered back to last night. The underground jam session had been wild, and for the first time in a while, Izuku had let himself relax around people. It was easy with his skater friends—they didn't ask about quirks, or U.A., or the pressure of being a hero. They were just... chill.
But here, in this classroom, everything felt suffocating. He could feel the eyes of his classmates on him, though they tried to hide it. They knew something had changed. He wasn't the same Izuku who used to be obsessed with becoming the Number One Hero. They whispered about him when they thought he couldn't hear.
"Midoriya's been acting weird lately..."
"Yeah, he's so quiet now."
"Do you think something happened?"
Izuku didn't care. Let them talk. He wasn't here to make friends or be a part of the group. He was just passing through, biding his time.
Class dragged on, and when the bell finally rang, Izuku was the first one out the door. He headed for his usual hiding spot on the roof of the building, away from the noise of the school and the prying eyes of his classmates. Pulling out his phone, he saw a text from Kaito, asking if he was hitting up the skate park again after school.
Izuku smirked slightly. It was tempting to just ditch the rest of the day and head straight there, but he knew Aizawa would be on his case if he skipped too many classes. With a sigh, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the railing, staring out at the city skyline.
It was peaceful up here—just him, the wind, and the distant sounds of the city. No one knew this side of him. No one knew that the quiet, nonchalant Midoriya who sat in the back of class spent his nights skating and smoking with a bunch of street kids. And that was exactly how he liked it.
As the day wore on, Izuku went through the motions—sitting through class, answering when he had to, but otherwise staying silent. His teachers didn't bother him much anymore. They'd noticed the change in him, but no one knew how to approach it. So they just let him be.
After the final bell rang, Izuku didn't waste any time. He grabbed his board from his locker and headed for the gate, slipping past his classmates without a word. The moment he was off campus, he pulled out his phone and texted Kaito.
**Izuku**: On my way.
The skate park was a solid ten-minute ride from U.A., but Izuku wasn't in any hurry. He kicked off, the familiar feeling of the board beneath his feet soothing his restless mind. The streets of the city blurred around him as he skated, weaving through pedestrians and traffic with practiced ease.
By the time he reached the park, Kaito, Emi, and Ren were already there, lounging by the ramps. Kaito waved him over, grinning as usual.
"Yo, Midoriya! You made it!" Kaito called out.
Izuku nodded, his face as unreadable as ever. "Yeah."
He dropped his board down and skated over to join them, the familiar hum of the wheels against the concrete grounding him. For a while, they skated in silence, no one feeling the need to fill the air with pointless conversation. That was one of the things Izuku appreciated about these guys. They didn't pry, didn't ask too many questions.
But as the sun started to dip lower in the sky, Emi broke the silence.
"You ever think about showing up at school with your board?" she asked, her tone light but curious.
Izuku smirked at the thought. "Nah."
Emi shrugged. "Would be funny, though. Bet none of those hero kids would see it coming."
Izuku didn't respond. He knew it would shock his classmates, but he had no interest in letting them into this part of his life. He preferred keeping things separate. U.A. could stay in its neat little box, and the skate park could be his escape.
Kaito, sensing the shift in the conversation, spoke up. "We're heading to another jam session later. You down?"
Izuku thought about it for a moment. He could feel the tension building again, the weight of expectations pressing down on him. Another night of skating, smoking, and music sounded like exactly what he needed to clear his head.
"Yeah," he said after a pause. "I'm down."
They skated for a while longer before splitting up, each of them heading home to grab their gear for the session later. As Izuku rode through the streets, the familiar feeling of detachment settled over him once more. He wasn't like the others at U.A.—he didn't care about becoming a hero, about saving people, or about following the rules.
He just wanted to live his life on his terms, and right now, that meant skating, smoking, and keeping his distance from anyone who tried to pull him back into the world of heroes.
As he skated off into the fading light, he knew one thing for sure: he wasn't going back to the way things were. Not now. Not ever.
