Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Izuku Midoriya {1}

Requested by: DWTDfangirl

[A/N]: I hope I got the description of your quirk right. I wanted to make this longer, but I failed...

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Attempted Suicide, Depression/Anxiety, Bullying. 

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The road to herodom was littered with regrets, mistakes, boundless hardship and scars that would never heal. Your mind and body ached in equal proportion, from the many trials you unwillingly entertained. At this point, the overarching question was: why did you even bother? The moment your quirk manifested, you were thrust into Hell. The moment you settled on a future you were unworthy of, everything collapsed. Any notion of 'maybe I can train my quirk to cap its drawback' was shattered, and beyond repair. Luck never sided with you. Every friend obtained along the way deserted you, for what you considered a valid reason. You were bullied into desiring a death that didn't want you - three different attempts, three different methods, and you were still breathing.

The world was cruel.

Humans were crueller.

Five school changes later, you were admitted into UA, although you couldn't understand why - your quirk's combat abilities were limited, and you mainly served as support, for distraction and misdirection. It certainly couldn't have been the low confidence you displayed, or the awful side-effect after over-using your power. You were far from the only sufferer. Heroism wasn't a calling, more an effort to defy the ugliness of fate.

But history always repeated, again and again, harsher and scarier. It was inevitable that your secrets would be revealed. You outed people on the daily, despite having no wish to do so. That was the complication, the harbinger of doom and the one thing that drove everyone away, without fail. Well...you were dropped into the wrong class, then. Being exposed was always embarrassing, but it wasn't enough to deter these people, friendly and determined as they were. The one who seemed to most enjoy your company and was impervious to your constant self-isolation, was the one keeping your heart afloat. He didn't know this. You doubted he ever would. It didn't matter. Whether or not those feelings were mutual, you couldn't hinder his dreams or attach a label as fragile as 'lover'. After all, it wouldn't be long before another change of location was required...right?

It always happened this way. It was always taken too far, and people always got hurt.

You didn't feel able to stop that - not in the absence of death.

Midoriya was the embodiment of sunshine, of everything right and good in the world. If you weren't so brimming with love, you might be envious. You supposed his curiosity piqued when he first came upon your notebook, the one in which you documented every struggle, all your inner-torment, with intricate drawings. He wasn't allowed more than a mere glance, however, before you removed it from his sight. All he recognised were the lovely, little sketches. He couldn't fathom the deeper meaning. Though there must have been one, or you wouldn't have looked quite so desperate...quite so upset.

He took an interest in your quirk, and stayed beside you even at your quietest - even when you grew tired of your visibility, and wanted to disappear. Hagakure's quirk sounded really appealing, in those moments. Midoriya often stumbled over his words as he spoke, a light blush painting his cheeks. It was Summer, so the heat must be affecting him. That was what you assumed, anyway. In your mind, you were undeserving of love, and therefore couldn't glean it from his reactions. You warned yourself not to get so close, but when did you listen? Where was your common sense? Midoriya's hero notebook gained a page about you, and your quirk. You loathed the picture, although you could concede that he was a talented artist. He was incredible, actually. Now you understood why this love was so difficult to quell, and this sickness to cure.