My hero ANGSTademia

Aoyama's story: What is wrong with me?

There are trigger warnings in this chapter! There will be markers to help guide you past those triggering parts. The marker is -----

Also please note that I am cisgender, but my beta reader had their non-cisgender friend help beta read Aoyama's dysphoria part.

TW, body/gender dysphoria. Skip to next line of ---- if needed
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This memory transported them to the boy's bedroom. A full length mirror stood in front of him, as he struggled with his clothes. Not satisfied with what he chose, he went back into his closet to find another article of clothing. He came out in a different suit, again heading to the mirror. The frown on his face did not leave. Looking defeated he sat on his bed. Unable to look himself in the mirror, he turned away.

Seconds later there was a knock on his door. It opened a little for his mother to slightly poke her head in.

"Garçon, are you ready?" she asked brightly.

He shrank away from her gaze, "Not yet, mother."

Her face softened as she took in his dismal expression. "May I come in?" she asked, her voice much softer.

"Yes," he responded hesitantly.

His mother stepped in, the picture of grace. Fitted in a long, flowing evening gown that reached her ankles, with her once long hair now only touching her shoulders. Walking over to her son, she stood behind him and gently placed her hands on his shoulders.

Turning him to face the mirror, she asked, "What is the problem, honey?"

"I just... don't feel right with this on. The suit just doesn't look right on me. I don't know what is wrong." He replied, and outwardly winced. His mother would just think he was being fussy again.

Humming, his mom looked the outfit over in the mirror, before moving in front of him. Sitting her son on his bed, she kneeled down in front of him. Aoyama kept his eyes firmly on his feet, afraid to look at her.

"Honey, what are you feeling right now? Does the suit just not fit you, or is it something else?" she asked. He looked up, surprised. He hadn't expected her to understand it this much, especially since he didn't really understand it all himself.

"I really don't know maman... it makes me... feel gross, I guess?" He replied, questioning himself. His mother's face softened further under his downcast expression.

"How about we talk more after the gala. Then we will be able to sit down and have a conversation about what you are feeling. Ok?" she suggested. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and smooth it out.

Hesitantly, he replied, "Ok maman. We can talk after."

With that, his mother hugged him tightly and, hand in hand, they headed out of the room as the memory slowly faded.

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Pulled back from the memory, Midoriya glanced at his friend. What had he been suffering with? Those suits looked fine on him, but his face said otherwise. He looked almost out of place in his own memory. The next memory started to come through as he reached out to Aoyama, watching as Aoyama hesitantly, almost shyly, reached back and took Midoriya's hand, squeezing it slightly. Around them, their friends seemed to move closer than before. With each memory, his friends were coming together around Aoyama to help support them.

The next memory loaded in around Midoriya and Aoyama, their hands still interlaced. They were no longer at the mansion, but instead a clothing store. In front of them stood Aoyama's mother as she sat in a seat in front of a changing room door.