A/N: Hello and welcome to my contribution for the 2018 MHA Big Bang! I'll be updating this slowly throughout the day, and coming back to link the wonderful art my partners did for this. Until then, enjoy!
Izuku skidded around the corner, fumbling for his belt buckle with frantic fingers as he found his balance and threw himself full-tilt towards the dorms. He could hear Kacchan's snarling yells getting closer with every breath, and gritted his teeth before leaping over a hedgerow. Somebody nearby whooped, "Parkour!" but he didn't let the resulting jeers slow him down.
The moment he was through the dorm's double doors Izuku ripped off his shirt, not caring about the mix of startled and appreciative noises he got as he sprinted through the common room but somehow managing to care enough about his shirt to keep a death grip on it.
"You're so fucked, Deku!" came Kacchan's raised voice from way too close.
Izuku risked a glance back and confirmed that Kacchan was hot on his trail, shoving students aside in his bid to close the gap.
This was really, really not how he would have liked to spend his Sunday night, but he'd been foolish enough to accept Ochako's offer to grab milkshakes on the first day of Murder Week.
Rounding another corner, Izuku counted three beats and twisted to lob his balled-up shirt at the space directly to the corner's left, and was rewarded with Kacchan's snarl of surprise as it hit him squarely in the face. Izuku took this extra moment of momentum to yank his belt off and throw that behind him for good measure so he could get to work shimmying out of his jeans.
"If you think me seeing your tiny dick will save you, you've got another thing coming," Kacchan yelled from the other end of the hallway, earning himself a tittering chorus of Run tiny dick, run! from the students poking their heads out of their rooms at the noise. "Good luck getting out of your tighty-whities before I kill your sorry ass!"
Well, he had a point - of all the days to wear those Surgeon General boxer briefs his mom had sent him for Christmas last year. Izuku looked over his shoulder again just in time to duck the belt that Kacchan threw back at him. It hit the wall just above his head with a metallic crack, and he resolved to wear belts that were less deadly for the rest of the week.
He reached the stairwell right as some poor student was trying to negotiate the double doors with an obscenely large box in her arms, so he tucked and rolled through the space between the bottom of the box and the floor with a hurried "Thank you!" and began to take the stairs two at a time. If he couldn't make it to his room before Kacchan caught up, he'd have to be as close to naked as possible. He slid a finger under the elastic and grimaced; that's it, no more tight underwear this week, he could live without the extra support for seven days.
"It's game over, Deku!" Kacchan yelled from the flight of stairs below him. "A runt like you can't escape me for long!"
Izuku burst through the doors at the top of the stairs, lungs on fire; why did he think living on the top floor was a good idea? A group of students was talking nearby, so he dove into them, yelling, "Sorry!" over his shoulder as he managed to trip one of them into Kacchan, who had just dashed out. Kacchan stayed tangled up long enough for Izuku to wiggle out of his jeans - he was going to have words with Ochako about these skinny jeans she convinced him to buy - and throw them back at Kacchan as he clawed his way out of the group.
They landed on his face and hung there for a moment, the crotch directly over the bridge of his nose, and Izuku would have laughed if he weren't bolting through the hall in nothing but his Toshinori boxer briefs.
"I'LL SLIT YOUR THROAT, YOU FUCKIN' SHIT!" Kacchan roared from just a few feet away, but as Izuku got his bearings, hope flared in his chest: this was his hall, he might make it after all-!
Sweat was streaming down his back and face and his overwrought muscles were screaming, but it didn't matter because there was his door, there was his safe haven.
He fell into his room and felt the faint gust of air above his head where Kacchan tried to stab him.
"Oh thank god," Izuku whispered to no one in particular, since Shouto was nose-deep in one of his finance textbooks and Kacchan was grinding his teeth on the threshold.
"You're a lucky fucker," he spat, throwing Izuku's jeans at him with enough force to knock him back to the floor as he tried to stand. "Don't think this'll happen again." With that, he stormed off, leaving Izuku to collapse onto the cheap, scratchy dorm carpeting and spend a few moments catching his breath; that was the most he'd had to run since that intramural basketball team his hall had gotten invested in a few semesters ago.
Shouto still hadn't looked up or otherwise indicated that he understood another human had entered the room, so Izuku cleared his throat and said, "Hey, Shouto. How was your day?"
Shouto started and turned blurry eyes in Izuku's general direction. "Oh, hello. I didn't know you were home."
Izuku gave him a thumbs-up from the floor. "I just got back."
"That's nice," Shouto said, tendrils of red and white hair creating a curtain over half of his face as he turned back to his book, either not noticing or not caring about Izuku's state of undress.
Izuku couldn't help but smile; his roommate was not only one of the most diligent students at the University of Atascadero, but also one of the kindest. He'd allowed a struggling freshman club to use him as a fundraiser that, if successful, meant they could dye his hair the school colors of scarlet and white until the end of the semester.
A knock at the door startled Izuku, and Iida poked his head in. "I got a few noise complaints from this hall about-Izuku!" He threw his hands up to shield his eyes. "Why on Earth are you almost naked on the floor? You were the last person I thought I'd have to remind about the campus dress code!"
"Right, sorry Iida, one sec." Izuku got to his feet with minimal groaning and went for the shirt and shorts he'd left on his bed this morning. "You can look again, I'm decent - but technically the dress code doesn't apply to individual dorm rooms, you know."
Iida peeked through his fingers before adjusting his tie and clearing his throat. "Yes, well. I hope you'll be able to keep it down more. Remember, quiet hours are in effect until finals are over."
"I'll keep that in mind," Izuku said, reaching his arms above his head and wincing as his overused muscles twinged. "Are you still free for lunch with me and Ochako tomorrow?"
Iida shook his head with a small frown. "We have an emergency R.A. meeting at that time. Could I catch you two another time?"
"Of course!" Izuku began stretching his legs to preempt the cramps already forming in his hamstrings. "Good luck at your meeting, I'm sure things are rough for you guys with Murder Week."
Iida's glasses flashed as he adjusted them. "Yes, as a matter of fact. It's been quite troublesome. Did you know that already - already! - there have been incidents of cross-campus streaking? I swear, don't these people have any common decency?"
Guilt wriggled uncomfortable in Izuku's gut. "The prize this year is pretty great. They'll get you into that luncheon with former Surgeon General Toshinori Yagi, and have I told you about how he single-handedly saved all those people in that hospital by -"
"Restarting the generators in the middle of a hurricane and then proceeding to help the nurses hook up over a hundred patients back up to life support and/or various IV medications, yes, you've mentioned it quite a few times," Iida interrupted with an indulgent smile. "I can't stop you from participating, but if I catch you doing anything that breaks the rules, I'll be obligated to report you."
"I'll be careful," Izuku promised, jumping a little when his phone buzzed at him from the desk drawer he'd thrown it in this morning.
"I'd better get going anyway. Have a good rest of your night, you two." Iida lifted a hand in farewell and headed back towards his room at the end of the hall.
Izuku dug out his phone and saw a string of texts from Ochako - she could never seem to contain her thoughts to one paragraph and instead communicated in rapid-fire bursts.
[[thanks for grabbin' shakes w/me! :D]]
[[hope u made it back okay]]
[[mina jumped out of a bush and almost killed me! D:]]
[[i was too fast tho. :) I know all the shortcuts around the science building]]
[[anyway u had Kyouka on ur knife, yeah?]]
[[i was gonna meet her at the small fountain by the music hall tmrw before we grab lunch]]
[[how about u come crash the party and get ur first kill!]]
Guess Ochako had an eventful night, too. He tapped out a response.
[[Stay safe! Yeah, that sounds great, I'll be there a little before noon.]]
Ochako's messages reminded him about his target. Next to where he had put his phone in his desk was a small plastic butter knife with the name Kyouka Jirou written on it in red sharpie.
The knives had arrived sometime between three and five in the morning like a gift from Santa's evil twin, slipped under the doors of every junior's dorm room by masked seniors who only shook their heads and mimed shh if you were unlucky enough to catch them in the act.
It was Murder Week at U.A., the fake-blood-soaked time between the last day of classes and the first day of final exams in which juniors were assigned targets to 'kill' by touching them with their eponymous knife. If you succeeded, you won your target's knife and thus acquired a new target, a cutthroat process that continued until only one person was left standing.
Izuku had not been convinced the whole charade was real at first, and had brushed off Ochako's whispered urban legends with the same equanimity with which he ignored Kacchan's increasingly murderous grins. But then the knives were there, and Kacchan was chasing him, and it looked like this was really happening after all.
Sighing, he went to the door to pick up his discarded belt and jeans. There were three ways to be immune from dying in this game: 1) be in your room - killings did not count there; 2) be in the dining hall, because had to eat, the seniors weren't barbarians; 3) be naked: kills didn't count if you were tagged while nude.
Izuku started at his dressed, contemplative. Guess he'd have to reconsider his wardrobe for the week, but going commando was not something a pre-med student should have on his record; he had to dress with a dignity that would befit his future career, right?
"Why are you holding your belt and pants like that?" Shouto asked, finally closing his textbook and standing to stretch and cover a yawn. "Did you leave them on the floor?"
"Ah, well, it's murder week, so…" Izuku began, not really wanting to explain to his business empire heir roommate that he stripped for a game, but Shouto still looked puzzled, so he took a deep breath and continued: "You're immune from dying if you're naked, and I wasn't sure I'd make it back to the room in time."
Shouto blinked slowly, and it occurred to Izuku that he might not have even noticed the butter knife sitting on the corner of his desk with Tsuyu's name on it. "Oh, I don't really care about the prize. This accounting final is no joke, not to mention my marketing group project that I am running almost entirely on my own. My classmates are incompetent." He frowned at his closed textbook like it could perhaps make sense of his classmates' failings, but seemed to realize he was still in the middle of a conversation. "Anyway, good luck if you're playing."
Izuku hummed in acknowledgement while he put away his clothes. "The prize this year is a spot at that upperclassman luncheon with the Toshinori Yagi. I have to win it, I'd be able to speak to the man who literally got me into medicine and-"
"Before you get going, he's the one on all your posters, right?" Shouto asked, glancing at Izuku's side of the room where two large posters dominated the wall and newspaper clippings of his medical feats filled in any holes.
"Yeah, that's him!" Izuku ran a hand along a framed magazine article that featured an interview with Toshinori after he successfully lobbied Congress to increase funding for Medicare and Medicaid. "I want to be even a tenth the doctor he was. He saved so many lives…I have to win the chance to talk to him."
Shouto began rooting through his drawers for his pajamas, which were silk and had a matching nightcap that he usually put on top of a teddy bear that always sat on the corner of his bed; all Izuku had been able to get out of him was that it was a gift from his mother. "I think your chances are good as long as that loud friend of yours doesn't get the jump on you." He moved to the door where his shower caddy hung on a labeled hook, and grabbed his toothbrush from its equally predetermined location. "I'll keep an ear out and let you know if I hear anything about what he's planning."
"Thanks," Izuku said as his roommate left for the bathroom. He could hear the faint squeaks and clicks of nearby doors being cracked as people checked to see if their target was the one leaving the safety of his room. There was a half-empty water bottle on his desk that he grabbed on his way to get his own toothbrush. He brushed his teeth there, spitting into the trash can in the corner of the room. He'd had a close enough brush with fictional murder today, thank you very much, and would complete his night routine here.
The standard-issue dorm mattress wheezed when he finally fell into bed some time later. Izuku stared at the ceiling for a while and listened to the hypnotic sounds of Shouto's pencil on paper while he thought about all the ways tomorrow could go wrong. Ochako called him morbid and a pessimist, but Izuku just liked to be prepared, and going through contingency plans was the best way for him to feel that way. He rolled over and closed his eyes. Besides, he couldn't let her down.
/
"Izuku, over here!" Ochako waved from her seat on a bench next to one of the quieter campus water features, a fountain set under the shade of a large sycamore tree on the backside of the art and music building.
Izuku hurried over, pulling his fitted baseball cap down to shade his eyes more. Not only did it help with the California sun, it also hid his distressingly identifiable mess of curly hair.
"You all set?" she asked when he reached her. "I told Kyouka I'd let her show me the stuff she's been DJ-ing. I hope you can get her before I open my big mouth and tell her it needs more banjos."
"You're the best," Izuku said, heart rate beginning to pick up as he went through his precise movements in advance. It was strange to be the hunter when for so long it had felt like he was always the hunted.
"Oy! Ochako, you ready to have an eargasm - oh, hi Izuku, didn't think you'd be here." Kyouka was about twenty feet away and approaching with Mina at her side, whose smile had a strange Cheshire cat edge.
Izuku froze, remembering it was Mina who had tried to kill Ochako yesterday.
Kyouka saw him staring at Mina and said, "She said she wanted to talk to Ochako about something, so I told her she should come along. What, is there a problem?"
The tableau held for one more second, one more peaceful, innocent second, and then all hell broke loose.
Mina lunged at Ochako, plastic knife outstretched, but Ochako had already leapt into the water feature and begun wading towards the other side.
Izuku saw Mina hop up onto the edge of the fountain and start sprinting along the rim to cut Ochako off, which made a knot twist in his stomach - stopping her would mean he'd leave Kyouka to possibly run away - but his body was moving before the thought was fully formed.
His legs protested as he jumped onto the edge to follow Mina, but he forced his muscles propel him forward until he was just a few feet behind her. She was almost in striking distance of Ochako, which sent a bolt of adrenaline screaming through his system - she couldn't tag Ochako out, he wouldn't let her! "Sorry!" he yelled as he tackled Mina from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and twisting so it was his shoulder that hit the stone bottom of the water feature instead of her.
"Thanks partner!" Ochako called over her shoulder as she jogged back over to Kyouka, who was mostly looking put out that they weren't listening to her remixes.
"I wasn't expecting you to work together, I'll give you that one, Midoriya," Mina said after she shoved him back and waded towards the edge of the fountain to wring out her clothing, bubblegum pink hair plastered to one side of her face. "But whatcha gonna do when it's her name on your knife?"
That was the million dollar question, one Izuku had studiously ignored from the moment Ochako suggested they work together. "I hope you're not hurt," he said instead, wincing when he rolled his shoulders. Guess he took the landing a little too hard.
Mina winked at him. "Worry about yourself, fanboy. I can take the heat." With one final look across the water, where Ochako was poised by the stairs, ready to escape into the crowded upper level, Mina held her head up high and walked towards the nearby entrance to the music building. "I know where you sleep, Uraraka. Don't let any bedbugs bite."
"Hey nerds, are you gonna listen to these tunes, or what?" Kyouka was fiddling with a pair of padded, intricate-looking headphones.
Ochako strolled back over, a glint in her eyes that told Izuku she had a plan. "Why don't you let Izuku listen first?" she asked, casual stance and pleasant smile the picture of innocence.
"Sure, whatever, I just have to be in class in twenty minutes - hey!"
Izuku had wasted no time in sliding the knife with Kyouka's name on it down his hoodie sleeve and poking her hand with it when she held out the headphones.
Eyes wide, Kyouka said, "But you had so many chances to kill me earlier if I was your target, why wait - oh, you sneaky bastard. And you," she said, rounding on Ochako, "what the fuck, dude, I trusted you."
Ochako brought a hand to rub her neck, her guilty tell for as long as he'd known her. "Sorry 'bout that. I really did wanna listen to your music."
That seemed to mollify Kyouka somewhat, because she sighed and said, "Come on then, let's get on with it so at least this wasn't a total waste of time." She handed Izuku the knife with her target on it, one Momo Yaoyorozu.
"Thanks," Izuku said, pocketing the new knife. "Sorry for tricking you."
"Eh, I guess it's whatever, it's Murder Week. To be expected." She'd already put her headphones on Ochako, who was bobbing to the beat.
"Ochako, hey." He waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention, and waited while she freed one ear from the headphones. "Wanna grab some food after a few songs - "
"Time to get fucked, losers!" Kacchan landed with a crash next to Kyouka, wearing weird baggy pants and a wifebeater tank that had seen better days.
Izuku was still in shock when Kacchan stood - were those bright orange Crocs? - and charged at him, plastic knife in hand and manic rage twisting his face into an inhuman mask.
With only a second to react, Izuku ducked into a leg sweep, sending Kacchan sprawling to the pavement. Before he could stand back up Izuku sprinted away, around the music building and up the grassy hill on its long side that led to one of the main quads.
"Not today, fucker!" Kacchan howled from behind him, clawing his way up the hill on all fours like a rabid dog, face a rictus of snarling fury that made the hairs on the back of Izuku's neck stand up. He was closing the ground between them, this might be the end, unless -
Turning quickly, Izuku dodged another swipe from Kacchan's knife and gained a bit of distance by dodging through the crowd of people milling around the library on the west side of the quad. Some fancy footwork and a few scattered choruses of, "Parkour!" had him well on his way along the pathway to his dorm, which was his best bet at this point because the dining hall was in the opposite direction and -
"Where you going, huh?" Kacchan called as Izuku saw the caution tape all over the main entrance. "I have eyes all over campus, you take a shit and I know about it. You really thought you could leave your room and come back so easily?"
Izuku darted towards the side of the building in a desperate gamble that Kacchan wouldn't have blocked those as well, maybe thinking he'd have captured him before then, but no, they were covered in tape too, what to do, what to do -
"So cocky, aren't we, Bakugou?" said a voice not far from them. "You're always so predictable - it's a little sad."
A quick glance over his shoulder revealed that a student with violet-dyed hair - Shinsou, Izuku thought his name was, a quiet pre-med student in some of his classes - was running alongside Kacchan, a plastic knife dancing between his fingers like a scalpel. "Your time is up," he said, a cold smile on his face as he leapt for Kacchan, except - dear god.
Kacchan stopped abruptly and jumped to the side so that Shinsou overshot him by a few meters and proceeded to rip his shirt off, the thin fabric tearing like cobwebs in his grip. His hands were on his pants next, which he cast aside with almost contemptuous ease, and then Katsuki Bakugou was standing before them as naked as the day he was born.
"What's the matter? Never seen a dick this big before?" Kacchan asked, taking a few unperturbed steps towards Izuku. "If you think I won't kill you while I'm naked, you're more of a dumbass than I thought." He glanced at Shinsou, who seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes on Kacchan's face. "Keep staring and I'll start charging, pretty boy."
To Izuku's surprise, Shinsou blushed and looked away. "Have fun being an exhibitionist."
Izuku didn't wait to hear Kacchan's retort. He dashed around to the other side of the building where there was a small side door that no one really used because it was farthest from all the main paths. With any luck, this door would have escaped Kacchan's notice, though there were also a few pillars and jutting sconces he could use to climb to the second story if need be.
Thankfully, this door was untouched. Izuku could hear Kacchan's colorful yelling behind him, but his room was on this side of the building, so there wasn't the same need to run for his life.
Izuku made it back to his room without further trouble, and heard Kacchan's door slam through the floor. His life would be much more miserable if they lived on the same floor.
Shouto had his face flat on his desk when he came in, which, while not unusual, was still somewhat alarming. "You okay there?" Izuku asked, placing his newly-won knife with care into a hidden drawer in his desk.
"Define okay," Shouto replied, voice muffled.
"Not experiencing undue physical or emotional distress?" Izuku said, approaching Shouto's desk to see if there were any clues about his mental state there.
"Oh. Then no, I guess I'm not okay." Shouto rolled his face over to look at Izuku out of one eye. "Father is coming to visit in a few days, and I am not at all ready to deal with him reminding me how far I have to go and how everything that I am is because of him, so I should be appropriately grateful."
Izuku's stomach clenched; Shouto's father was a severe, intimidating man who donated heavily to the school, and had effectively ostracized his son by making public announcements about his elite status. Shouto had indeed seemed cold and unapproachable, but that all changed after a high-adrenaline clash during hall games freshman year in which Izuku clutched out a win through some dodgeball gymnastics Shouto had not seen coming. "Yeah, that is stressful," he said, awkwardly patting his roommate on the shoulder. "I'll be here for moral support, if there's anything I can do."
A sound somewhere between a groan of despair and a death rattle came from where Shouto's face was still pressed to his desk.
One, then two, then a steady stream of buzzes emanated from Izuku's pocket, so he left Shouto to collect himself and went to see what Ochako wanted.
[[hey! didja make it out okay?]]
[[katsuki sure is scary, huh? kinda like an attack dog]]
[[but thanks for savin me, means a lot!]]
[[i'll help you w/ur next person too]
[[who is it, btw?]]
[[o ps, mina was hangin outside my room, so I climbed in thru the window LOL]]
[[bet she wasn't expectin that!]]
Smiling, Izuku typed his reply. Every time she talked to him, he was reminded of how glad he was that she had essentially adopted him into their group of friends.
[[Yeah, I made it back fine. Looks like Shinou has Kacchan's knife, and he interrupted our chase. My next target is Momo Yaoyorozu...isn't that your roommate?]]
He barely sent it off before the three little dots appeared.
[[YEAH i can def help u get her!]]
[[mk this is a SECRET but she's into ur roomie]]
[[she's a chem major but her minor is in business and they had a class together last semester and she's had her eyes on him ever since]]
[[think u could hold a study sesh at ur place and i can bring Momo over?]]
[[i know she'd be all over it]]
A study group, huh? Izuku brought a hand to his chin. That would be a plausible excuse to get her within striking distance, and she'd have her guard down since they'd be in a supposed safe zone. But did she even care about the game? How suspicious should he be?
[[Go ahead and ask her if she's interested, and let me know what she says. Thanks again!]]
[[aye aye! i'll hit u up when i talk to her :)]]
Izuku put his phone down and allowed himself exactly one moment of self-pity about what lunch would be like. The dining hall, though another safe zone, was a ten minute walk from his building, and Kacchan must be itching for another chance to kill him. His threat about having eyes everywhere was not an idle one; as captain of the Ultimate Frisbee team and sole reason their university trounced any school who challenged them, he was worshipped by a not insignificant portion of the campus population. Izuku had already seen a few teammates and underclassmen scrounging around outside the entrance to the dorm, which meant he'd have to be extremely careful about when he left.
His stomach gurgled. He'd meant to go stock up on ramen and granola bars at the closest convenience store, but he still faced the issue of Kacchan's lackeys. Unless… "Hey, Shouto? Have you eaten yet?"
"No, why?" His head was still on his desk, though it looked like he was gathering the will to sit up.
"Kacchan has guys looking for me, so I'm not sure I can make it to the dining hall in one piece. Think you could sneak me back a takeout container or two?"
Shouto finally sat up and turned his frowning face towards Izuku. "But that's against dining hall rules."
"True, but if you're fast, no one will notice, and I could really use some real food this week." He directed his best impression of puppy dog eyes at Shouto. "Pretty please?"
Heaving a sigh that would have been put-upon if it wasn't so full of lingering despair, Shouto said, "Okay, fine. Don't expect me to be back anytime soon, though - some of the underclassman wanted me to teach them some Excel tricks."
"That's all right. Thanks a bunch, you're a lifesaver." A rush of relief made him lightheaded at the fact that he wouldn't need to run for his life twice in one day; he was going to need to spend a good portion of his night stretching as it was.
Something like warmth flickered behind Shouto's eyes as he shrugged on a thin hoodie. "You already saved mine. It's the least I could do."
This was a comfortable argument of theirs, something the ever-scrupulous Shouto couldn't quite seem to let go. "Like I always tell you, friendship doesn't work the way your balance sheets do. You don't owe me anything."
Shouto grabbed his keys from the labelled hook by the door. "Whatever you say," he said, and gave Izuku a rare smile.
The door clicked shut and Izuku was alone again. Alone, and terribly sore. He stared at his biology textbook for a few minutes before grabbing his phone to set an alarm for fifteen minutes. Before he got back to finals studying, a little reminder about the stakes of this game was in order.
He clicked into his browser and only had to type the first two letters of Tonshinori Yagi's blog name before it autofilled. The hubbub over the last few days meant that Izuku hadn't had time to read the latest weekly post, something that hadn't happened since high school when he broke his leg and his mother didn't want him sitting at his desk all day without his leg elevated.
The simple font and straightforward layout always soothed Izuku, made him feel like he was entering a cozy room with friendly faces. Tonshinori's posts were always full of information Izuku craved, the hows and the whys of his decisions in the field interspersed with stories of heroism. It reminded him that goodness was a decision made every day, and that even in a world that could be overwhelming in its horror and pain and sadness, compassion was always a choice you could make.
This post was about one of Toshinori's failed cases, or at least that's what it looked like from Izuku's perspective, since he wasn't ultimately able to save a life. A man in his mid-30s with a terminal cancer had been dealing with increasing pain that left him bedridden and on a constant opioid drip. Toshinori had tried everything he could think of to make the man's life more comfortable, but the pain was unbearable, and finally the man asked about physician assisted suicide.
Izuku paused to take a sip from his water bottle. Naturally Toshinori would come up with a helpful but ultimately futile way to save the man's life, but at least he would have dissuaded the man from suicide.
Except he didn't. With an increasingly furrowed brow*, Izuku kept reading, learning how Toshinori had accepted the man's wishes with no further pushback. A few weeks later, Toshinori left an overdose of pain medication with the man, and he passed peacefully that night surrounded by friends and family.
Izuku's phone began to buzz in Ochako fashion, so he tabbed out of the blogpost and shoved aside all further thoughts about why his idol would help someone take their life instead of try to save it.
[[she's totally down for the study party]]
[[what about tmrw at 7?]]
[[she'll be full after dinner, easier target]]
[[speaking of, u ok w/food? it's rough out there]]
She was always so considerate.
[[Awesome, I'll let Shouto know. And he's grabbing me food, so no worries there.]]
[[good! i have some extra granola bars w/me tmrw in case somethin happens]]
[[don't wanna risk being stuck w/o food!]]
[[Thanks, see you tomorrow!]]
A quick glance at the corner of his screen reminded him that it was two o'clock, so perhaps now he should do some finals studying.
He was deep into a chapter about organ systems when Shouto returned, pockets bulging with fruit and backpack full of tupperware.
"I got you some of everything. Fruit, deli sandwiches, and some of that stirfry you love you much," he announced, replacing his keys on their hook. "There were many minimally clothed individuals in the dining hall."
Izuku accepted the takeout container held together with a rubber band and caught the apple Shouto removed from his cargo pants pocket. "Yeah, that immunity rule is a bit much. I hope you didn't have to see too much you didn't want to."
Shouto shrugged, a massive textbook already open on his desk. "It's all the same to me. Just eat your dinner before it gets cold." One wan smile and he was back to studying, eyes never leaving the book as he rifled through a drawer for index cards.
The apple was a little grainy, but Izuku munched it dutifully while trying to decide what preparations to make for tomorrow night. "Oh, Shouto, we're having a group study session here tomorrow night with Ochako and Momo. Will you be around to join us? Momo has a business minor, and I bet you two could help each other out."
"Sure," came Shouto's absent reply as he grabbed and uncapped a highlighter in one fluid motion.
That settled, Izuku leaned back as far as he dared on his fourth-hand computer chair and contemplated next steps. Would Momo anticipate an attack, and if so, would she come prepared to fight or to run? A faint flush spread across his cheeks as he grappled with what he'd do if a female classmate ended up naked in his hallway; that wouldn't do at all.
One deep breath and several sips of water later, he texted Ochako to ask her to let him know if Momo dressed like she might intend to strip so he could make the proper arrangements.
A few texts in quick succession assured him that he'd get at least twenty minutes' notice of her outfit, and, thus placated, Izuku turned back to Toshinori's blog post. It unsettled him, that Toshinori would just give up on a patient and not try harder to save the young man's life. He closed the tab with a firm click and repeated his water bottle and trash can tooth brushing routine, determination to talk to Toshinori burning in his chest. He had to know the why, had to understand what had gone into his decision in order to dispel the seed of doubt that had been growing as he began to wonder if his entire outlook was wrong somehow.
But that would have to wait. Izuku grabbed his physiology textbook and curled up in bed to study until the lines blurred together and he was no longer thinking about the value of a life.