Please, Hold On My Love!

Disappointment runs deep

Floating in a dark dream space, Midoriya Izuku was calm.

For the first time in his life, he felt… complete. Free.

Free from the burden life had placed on his shoulders, free from the crippling weight of failure and guilt at how much pain he caused his mother. Izuku had known that he should give up a long time ago, yet continued to fight, to proceed with the tedious schedule his life had become.

Maybe he could finally find peace. There was no light like people said there would be when he finally left, no shining star he could follow. Only inky black, cocooning him in warmth and safety, a strange sense of belonging settling deep into his bones. He swam in the darkness, swam as he relaxed, unbothered with the way his scars disappeared the further into the dark he drifted. 

A piercing light interrupted the quiet, shining over him. He squirmed away from it, trying to dive deeper into the dark. Begging the dark, he screamed, wanting to stay. He could see a mirage of faces appear in the dark, shaking their heads sadly at him, turning away from his prone body. Turned away, abandoned. Again.

His resistance let up, eventually stilling, allowing the too-bright light to envelop him. Eyes shut against it, he began to feel once again. The dark drifted away, leaving him surrounded by the cold, unfeeling white. White was too easily stained by blood, his blood. He hated white. 

Waking up was hard.

Not because he couldn't open his eyes, but because hearing his mother's sobs made him want to find that soothing darkness once more, to fall back into it and stay there for eternity. The quiet was still there, interrupted by a loud beeping and heart wrenching cries. 

He hated it.

He should be gone.

He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to see the light again, see his mother cry over him, his dream torn away further. He didn't want a healing or a therapy session, he hated the thought of returning.

Just because he had woken up, didn't mean he felt better.

Opening his eyes was painful, the light blinding him for a few moments before his vision finally focused. His mother was leaning against his bedside, hair strewn all over the place, tears soaking the sheets beneath.

His throat was dry, hurting slightly but he ignored it, closing his eyes before his mother noticed they had ever been open. He couldn't face her right now.

Listening to her sobs become worse broke his heart and he was unable to hide the rise in his heartbeat. When he opened his eyes once more he was greeted with emerald green orbs staring with disbelief into his own. Tears ran in rivulets down her pale cheeks, staining them in paths of shiny water. 

They watched one another for a few moments before she softly sat back down, expression unreadable. His throat tightened, yet he felt nothing. No emotion nor any happiness flooded him at the sight of his mother, although some part of him longed for a hug. Or maybe the feeling of safety that always surrounded him. Looking away from her fearful expression, his gaze roamed the room around him. 

Dreaded white walls, white bedsheets, white equipment, white fucking everything. He hated white even more. Bandages wrapped around his arm, red seeming through slightly. Fascinated, he watched the slow spread of red across the white, hating it and yet feeling interested. Izuku didn't feel like himself, more like an outsider supervising this strange body.

He almost forgot Inko was in the room until she clinked her nails against glass which drew his attention away from examining the rest of the room. A glass of water was held in her grasp, shaking slightly.