Heartsick || An Izuku and Ochako story

Study Session

Woah! 

I recently found out that this story is #3 in IzuOcha (now #17 because I have no idea how ranking works), so thank you, guys! I would've never imagined this occurring T^T.

The poem in this story is NOT MINE. It belongs to John Mark Green on Tumblr, so go check him out.

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

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Izuku didn't know why he was so nervous.

He'd sent a text to Ochako the other night. Alone in his room, with a dim lamp providing the smallest amount of light. He had been nervous then, too. Texting should've been normal for him, but apparently not. 

In fact, ever since their talk that night, he'd felt confused and slightly angry. Izuku saw how tired she'd been. The desperation in Ochako's eyes, when she glanced back and forth from her to the bed, like she was trying to measure how many steps it would take to get there. Her yawns and her frustration...it was driving Izuku to the brink. If she was always this tired after planning a training session, then her schoolwork would take a nosedive. 

Izuku hadn't attempted to talk to All Might yet, deciding that it would make more sense to just help Ochako in a sensible way. He'd settled on helping her with homework. Seeing as he himself was already ahead in classwork, Izuku would spend his remaining time helping Ochako. After all, she was taking up her own time to train him, so he'd do likewise.

From on top of the common room table, he glanced down at his sharpened pencils. Each one was bright yellow and the tips as black as night. A red folder joined Izuku's on the desk. Ochako had arrived.

She appeared a lot less tired than last time- her eyes were bright with enthusiasm and the bags underneath them had faded. Her brown locks were tied into a high bun, with some strands falling out. She tugged on her pink shirt and shorts. Nervously.

Izuku grinned, all of his own anxieties washing away. What was he worried about? "Oh, Uraraka-san! You're here."

She sat down and returned with a smile of her own. "Yep! I..." she paused, her expression shifting, "I'd like it if you could help me stay on top of things."

He studied her face- she wasn't happy or sad. Just a somber sort of recognition. That she'd have to accept help, and that it wasn't bad to do so. That's what friends are for, right?

Izuku glanced down at the papers she'd taken out of her folder- English homework, assigned by Present Mic. Like Aizawa, he loved to give plenty of work to his students. This week was all about poetry. 

Uraraka followed his gaze. "I've been having trouble with the translations," she explained. "The poem is short, but I can't figure out the last stanza."

He traced the words, every curve and graceful stroke. Poetry was most likely his favorite unit so far in English- it defied everything. Words didn't have to make sense- it was the reader that would choose what the poem defined. What it meant to them. And every poem he'd read so far left a large footprint somewhere in his heart.

Izuku turned to Ochako, who gave him a firm nod. The two both worked at translating, Ochako writing everything down in Japanese and Izuku giving her pointers along the way. Soon after, the entire poem was written down neatly. The brunette leaned down to read it, and Izuku joined her.

I'm afraid of letting you 

get close enough

to notice the cracks

in my flawed heart.

Scared you'll see the things

I hate about myself-

terrified at the thought

of you walking away.

So I try and keep you

at a safe distance.

They say love is blind,

but I just can't take that chance.

The silence that followed was unbreakable.

To Izuku, the poem had left such a big impression on him that he already knew he'd never forget it. It wasn't just beautiful or well-crafted. He could, unfortunately, relate to it. The churning in his stomach, the huge amount of blushing, the things he noticed about her- they were all signs of love, and he knew it.

But he wasn't letting it out. He would treasure the friendship he had with Ochako because she was his first friend and he couldn't afford to lose her. The things she'd done for him- the only reason he was even becoming successful was that she had been by his side. Encouraging him. 

He swallowed, recovering from the impact, and peered over to Ochako. Her eyes, which usually sparkled with happiness, were hallow. Dark. Lifeless.

She was staring at the poem like it had done something horrible to her. Her expression read scared very visibly. Her entire body trembled. The yellow pencil she'd used to write was slipping out of her hands.

"Uraraka-san?" Izuku asked quietly.

She snapped out of her funk in an instant. "Y-yes! I mean, yes?"

"Do you have any other work you need help with-?"

He hardly got to finish. Ochako was hurriedly packing up her materials, though there was much more work to be done. She still looked frightened, but at least her fear had toned down.

"I-I need to go. Yaomomo said she'd-uh...help with math! I don't want to trouble you, Deku-kun," stammered Uraraka. She clutched her folder to her chest, which was bumping up and down. "Bye!"

"Goodbye..." he answered dejectedly. 

Izuku watched her walk speedily down the hall. Her arms dropped down, the folder falling from her hands as soon as she was in the elevator. The doors closed, and he couldn't see any more of it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. 

Izuku sighed and stood up. A startling sunset greeted him from the windows. He hadn't thought they'd spent so much time translating. Or maybe they'd spent all that time sucking in the poem.

He stretched and arched his back a few times before kneeling down again to collect his pencils. To his surprise, the poem was still there, lying on the table. 

'She didn't take it with her? I'll give it to her tomorrow,'  he decided.

Izuku looked down at the poem, the words screaming at him. The last line echoed in his head.

I just can't take that chance.