Chapter Warning: Suicidal ideation and mention of prescription drug abuse.
"Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time."
-Ransom Riggs
There is a kind of blankness in sleep that is hard-won – a moment in time and space where everything ceases to exist and the only thing you have to do for hours, for eternities, is breathe – softly, slowly. In, and out.
It's instinct, almost infantile, something all people can do naturally.
The last time he unlocked his phone, it read 4:23am.
Izuku can't sleep.
That's not quite accurate though, he supposes. He's perfectly capable of sleeping, enjoys it even – he's not prone to nightmares, doesn't really toss and turn, and hasn't sleep-walked in years. He's a peaceful sleeper, and an easy bed mate; he's had to be, as much as he sneaks in to sleep beside his mom.
Falling asleep is another matter entirely.
It's not quite insomnia – it's not as though his eyelids are weighted, that the abyss calls him and he can't hear it. He's tired, he's exhausted, he wants with every aching bone and twinging burn of his body to do nothing more than let go and fucking sleep, but his mind won't stop. It can't stop. It runs around and around in circles until he's ten feet into the ground and digging further and deeper still until he can almost feel the blood welling up underneath his nails.
Another sigh. He presses the home button. 4:36am.
The beginnings of sunlight sneak from between the slats of his blinds, turning the darkened room a dusty grey. If he squints he could probably make out the dust motes dancing in the chill of the early morning. He'd laid down at 10:30, but for once – out of sheer stubbornness, if not exhaustion, forced himself to stay in bed for at least a few hours.
Izuku had read a study once that even if you don't sleep, just laying still with your eyes closed will let your body rest better than if he forced himself onto his computer like he usually does, filling the hours by scrolling through the hero forums and watching 'Top Ten All Might Saves' compilations on youtube until he's blurry eyed and dizzy with sleep deprivation. But honestly—
A twinge in his chest, and a swooping sensation in his stomach.
The last thing he wants to think about is All Might.
It's stupid, and more than that its childish, and he knows that – knows he can't avoid it, that he has to face the music and make a decision-
It was never a decision he had to make
Oh god what is he going to do what is he going to say
Wouldn't it have been easier if he'd just jumped? Doesn't he want it to be easy-?
A low groan of frustration leaves his mouth, and Izuku presses his palms to his face, against his eyes harder and harder until black spots begin to form. He was almost fifteen now and he needed to act like it. He wasn't a kid anymore! He couldn't just- just bury his head in the sand and hope the world would wash away the imprints he made like it always did. He'd messed up, he'd – somehow, miraculously, managed to- to dupe All Might into thinking he would make a good candidate to inherit his power holyshithestillcouldnotbelieve-!
A deep breathe. Okay. Okay, cool, he needed to think. The middle-schooler scoffed at the thought, taking his hands away from his face and instead turning to face the wall, eyes trailing up the chipped paint until he met the eyes of the closest All Might poster, its wide grin looking almost mocking in the dim morning light.
All he does is think. All he ever does is think. A constant stream of all the things he did wrong that day, all the things he wished he hadn't said and all the things he wished he did, all the mistakes he made and all the things he needed to do and oh god there were so many things that needed to get done—
His mind is always racing. Whether its combing over data or the days events, filing certain things he's noticed or remembered off to the side for further inquiry or thinking about the latest journal he'd written or the newest one he wants to, oh and he was supposed to respond to his contact for that essay he was working on about the modern complications that have erupted due to the legal codes that were pushed through during the early Golden Age of Japanese heroics. And he needed to stop by the pharmacy tomorrow to pick up Kaa-san's refill for her Metoclopramide and Duloxetine and on top of that he needed see if he had any extra notebooks stashed somewhere so he could begin re-writing his journal. And then—
And then. All Might.
Or, he supposed, Yagi. It felt like he'd spent half of the last few hours doing nothing but studiously avoiding thinking about the hero, his mind cringing away from the image of the man, hunched over and heaving with the force of his coughs, and the way his hands had glistened red with blood.
He could almost smell it, the copper tang mixed in with the sour scent of vomit. He smelled it at least a few times a week after all.
He hoped Kaa-san was sleeping okay.
4:59am.
Kami, this was worse than usual. Izuku usually managed to pass out by 3:30 or so, usually 4:00 by the latest and that was on regular days and not the clusterfuck that today (or, he supposed, yesterday) had been. And Izuku really was exhausted – his hands still ached, raw against his sheets from Kacchan's quirk, his shoulder throbbing from All Might moving him out of the way, and his pride was cracked six ways to Sunday and he was tired. He just wanted the world to stop for a minute.
For a moment, roughly two hours ago, he'd considered – well. Back when the insomnia (it wasn't insomnia, he was just- his mind was just stupid and it was his own fault for not being able to deal with it) first starting getting bad, on the really terrible nights he'd sneak into his mom's room and take one of her Vallium – he didn't do it often, and he knew it was terrible and Kaa-san would be heartbroken and disappointed if she found out, but he'd been twelve years old and desperate with the need to just – just stop the world for a minute, to just close his eyes and pretend that the walls weren't caving in and the maybe for a moment everything would be okay he just wanted to sleep he just wanted it to stopstopstop—
So he'd take one, sneak it from her room when she was out cold, and enjoy a single night of emptiness. But then he'd starting doing it once a week, and then every couple nights, and he was sleeping, but then he'd come home one day to his mom arguing with her pharmacist on the phone.
Inko had run out of her prescription early, and the doctors refused to refill it until when it was originally scheduled to be.
Izuku had sat in his room and cried so hard he threw up, and spent the next week wide awake and shaking, jumping at every noise and so cold he was half tempted to knock on Kacchan's door because the burning wouldn't hurt half so much as the regret.
So, no. He wouldn't. Never again.
5:12am. Screw it. Izuku let out another sigh and pushed himself into a sitting position, blearily glaring around at his room. The comfort he usually found in the many examples of All Might regalia seemed absent for once – instead, he could feel a hundred sets of eyes burrowing into him, judging.
A shiver wracked his frame, and Izuku glanced around nervously before tugging his throw blanket around his shoulders and sliding his legs out from under the comforter. The wooden flooring felt like ice under his bare feet, and the middle-schooler let out a hiss.
It was easy, even as fatigue seemed to weigh his weary body down, to tip toe around his room and the discarded clothes on the floor to plop himself at his desk and reach blindly for the power button on his computer.
It took only a moment for the screen to cast its light onto the room, and Izuku found himself face to face with another grinning picture of All Might, clad in his Silver-era outfit with the quote, "It's fine now. Why? Because I am here!" outlined beneath his smiling visage in bright yellow letters. The temptation to just shut the monitor back down and climb back in bed and try just one more time to get some rest crossed his mind, but—
"My respiratory system was nearly demolished – I lost one lung, and the other is only partially functional. My stomach was completely removed. I can only hold up my other form for hero work for about three hours a day."
But Izuku had work to do.
A decision to make.
Search: living without a stomach
Search: Gastrectomy
Search: life after gastrectomy
"- each day might be a struggle. Some days, it takes all one's energy to consume enough calories to get through the day. It is not simply about putting food into your body or "just eating a little more;" it requires tremendous strategizing and effort—"
Search: lung damage
Search: having only one lung
Search: what organs can you live without
Search: Pneumonectomy
-one recipient stated that, "My heart is pumping that much harder to try to oxygenate my blood and my left lung is working that much harder, I'm just tired a lot, all the time."
Search: heroes with disabilities
Search: All Might injury
Search: all might quirk
Search: quirks that can be passed on
Search: transferable quirks
Search: post-gastrectomy diet
By the time the clock read 8:00am, Izuku felt far more awake than he had before, and also remarkably more empty despite the five—six? Cups of tea he'd had in the interim. His tongue felt like it was made of sandpaper.
He just wanted to sleep—
The desk in front of him was covered in printer paper, article after article after word document printed out and haphazardly filed together into an empty binder he'd had in an errant attempt to organize the cacophony that was making up his brain at the moment. Izuku had been half tempted to make some kind of graphic to slide into the front pocket but it seemed… crass, almost.
The one he'd made on his mom had been plain as well.
Izuku let out a soft hum as he stretched his arms out above him, wincing as his knuckles popped and his shoulder let out an aggrieved twinge at the treatment – it wasn't like he wasn't used to mildly-consistent aches and pains but it was usually of the cuts and bruises and burns variety, and less of the almost-dislocated-joint kind. Ouch.
But he supposed he shouldn't complain. He… what he felt (what ever he felt) had always been nothing compared to the pain his mom was in. And now, he knew, the pain All Might was in.
The realization of that felt remarkably like nausea.
How long did All Might spend putting his body through hell? How on earth was he capable of fighting like that when he so, so obviously malnourished? Malnourished and sickly and in copious amounts of pain and likely exhausted with bad blood pressure and not enough oxygen intake and Izuku wanted to, he wanted to—
He kind of wanted to shake the man and cry a little bit and tell him he didn't need to do all of this. He was the number one hero, he deserved a break! All Might deserved to be able to sit and take care of himself and relax and his mom-!
He meant- All Might. All Might deserved… so much better.
And now Izuku had to think. Because he'd just assumed he'd somehow managed to- to hoodwink All Might, Yagi, into thinking he was somehow worthy of receiving his power, like it was just a spur of the moment decision the man had made before he got to know just how useless Izuku really was. But if he was in that much pain, then maybe he was looking to retire?
The thought seemed ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. All Might had been around since before Izuku had even been born, he'd been the apple of his eye for his entire life, long before Dad had left. The idea of a world without the hero, without the bright, dazzling grin and the feeling that somewhere, out there, was someone who could solve any problem that could possibly appear – it was terrifying, in a much more realistic way than most of his usual fears.
What would've happened to Kacchan if All Might hadn't been there?
(Though, admittedly, if All Might hadn't been there, Izuku would probably be dead and the slime villain would probably have been easily caught and arrested, but that was a thought for tomorrow night.)
Still, the scenario gave him a heady sense of déjà vu – one whose origin he could pinpoint with ease. He could still vividly remember the last year before his mom had finally agreed to stop working and file for disability. She'd worked herself to the bone, spent each day toiling away amidst the exhaustion and chronic pain and come home and tried to cook dinner and put on a smile for him. He'd spent night after night listening to her beleaguered breathing, her stilted, muffled sobbing, and his heart had broken for her.
He was so far beyond thankful when she'd finally agreed to rest – so what if they couldn't afford new clothes? If they couldn't afford cable and they had to buy all their food on a strict budget, and maybe some days they didn't really have enough to eat three meals a day? She was better. She had more color in her face, and she was happier. He was happier for her.
Who was there to tell All Might he was allowed to rest?
It was probably unbelievably improper of him, or- or rude to even think about it, because he shouldn't assume that All Might wasn't taking care of himself-!
"But that smile? It's to hide this. The pain and the fear and the disappointment. There's nothing heroic about it."
But Izuku couldn't help but worry.
And if All Might was looking for a successor so he could take a step back and relax and heal, then—well, Izuku couldn't just… he couldn't just tell him no and make the man suffer, but still—
Izuku balled both of his hands up into fists, dug his nails into his palms until it hurt and tried to force himself to calm down. He wanted to scream and god he kind of wanted to pull a Kacchan and hit a wall or something. He felt like a can of pop that someone just kept shaking and shaking but never popped the tab and one day he was just going to be shaken so hard that all the built up pressure would make him explode and they'd be cleaning bits of him off the walls.
He was tired. He was so, so tired.
Izuku needed to know more. Needed to know specifics. How was the quirk passed on? How long did the process take? Side effects? Components of usage? Would he start to change forms like All Might had? How exactly would he explain suddenly having a quirk? How did the process effect the body? Would All Might be sharing power or somehow generating additional energy?
And, well, the thing is – he 500% had a way to ask these questions to the single person in the world who could answer them. But, well.
OhKamiabovetherewasnowayhecouldtextAllMight! Texting All Might! He had All Might's number! Knew his civilian name! He was still in shock!
Deep breathes. Fanboy later, serious stuff now.
(All Might's number!)
Honestly the thought of facing All Might, even over text, was beyond intimidating – regardless of what the man had claimed, Izuku knew he hadn't made a great showing. In the hour or so he'd been in contact with the hero, All Might had seen him vomit, cry, shout at him, mutter, cry again, and had seen just how much of a hero otaku he was. It was embarrassing, and even if All Might's eyes had lacked judgement – mostly, at least – Izuku couldn't help but feel as though the man would second guess his choice the moment he got to know him.
Most people did.
Izuku knew he wasn't a good person. He honestly had no value – what did he do? Argue about heroes on the internet? Sure, his mom loved him, and he loved her for it, but that's just who she was – she would probably love anyone if given the opportunity. He was petty and selfish and over-emotional and he lied and he was a coward and he was useless, and Izuku didn't know what he would do if All Might realized it. If his hero looked down at him with the same eyes he'd seen over and over again for years, from his teachers and classmates, from his neighbors, from his dad, from Kacchan—
He couldn't do it.
How far can someone bend before they break?
But he had an obligation. He had to give All Might an answer, which would involve texting him one way or another. So he might as well act like the hero his hero thinks he is, at least for a minute, and face his fears. And ask his questions.A minute passed. And then another.
Izuku muffled a scream into his hands.
Its just a phone! He texts people all the time! Honestly, he's better at texting than talking! Why isn't this easy!
(Well, he knows why its not easy, but its supposed to be – it easy for everyone else. He just has to over-complicate everything).
The chibi All Might on his phone case star at him apathetically from its place on his desk, and Izuku felt his fingers twitch. It would be quick. Just a quick question. Maybe the number wasn't even right. Maybe All Might had actually changed his mind at the last minute but was too nice to tell him so he just put in the wrong number and Izuku was getting stressed out over nothing and he'd never even hear from the hero again so why was he freaking out-!
And he was crying. Again. He sighed, absently scrubbing at his face for a minute, cursing his traitorous tear ducts. After a moment, he steeled his resolve. With a single deep breath to center himself, he reached out for the phone, unlocking it with an unsteady hand.
Its easy to pull up All Might, or rather Yagi's contact information – he only has a few contacts in his phone, and two of them are his mom. The number stares back at him from the dimmed screen, and trying to force himself to tap the button for a new message is akin to pulling teeth. When he finally does so, he can almost taste the blood on his tongue.
Like a bandaid. He just needed to do it quick.
Midoriya Izuku [8:43]
Hello! How are you doing? I just had a couple questions I wanted to ask about yesterday if that was okay?
Oh wait I didn't actually say who this was I'm so sorry, it's Midoriya Izuku!
WAIT I NEVER ACTUALLY INTRODUCED MYSELF THAT WAS SO RUDE OF ME.
We met yesterday, you saved me from the slime villain?
Sorry for sending so many texts!
THAT WAS THE WORST BANDAID PULLING HE HAD EVER DONE. He could feel every metaphorical millimeter of skin separating, and the sting persisted. Kami he was going to suffocate himself. He was really going to do it. If All Might hadn't wanted to talk to him before, he surely wasn't going to want to now—
His phone vibrates.
Izuku shrieks and flings it across the room, where it thunks against the wall before falling with a muted thump against the bed. His heart beats heavily in his chest, audible to his ears as he stares with widened eyes at his still lit screen.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod he couldn't read it, he couldn't do it he physically could not make himself pick up that phone—
Another buzz sounded, slightly muffled from across the room, and Izuku let out a strangled yelp, hand spasming at his sides before he threw himself onto the bed with a single step. His shaking hands darted out, grabbing the phone even as he found himself squeezing his eyes shut. This was somehow a million times more intense than facing certain death had been yesterday.
But, then again, this mattered more to him than dying.
A shudder ran through him, the tension creeping up his spine vertebrae by vertebrae. What if it was a wrong number? What if All Might was irritated or frustrated and it was just a 'sorry kid never-mind,' text? What would he do?
Get it over with. Stop being a coward, for once in your life.
He unlocked the phone.
Yagi Toshinori [8:45]
haha its fine, dont worry about it!
id prefer not to have this conversation over text though, are u free today?
Midoriya Izuku [8:48]
Oh I'm so sorry I should have thought of that!
I am 500% free! My school only has Saturday classes twice a month.
Yagi Toshinori [8:49]
thats great! u live in musutafu right? have you ever been 2 zakuzaku
Midoriya Izuku [8:50]
The ice cream place? :oo
Yagi Toshinori [8:52]
yes! its across from the pier on jinnan st
would u be able to meet there at 2?
Midoriya Izuku [8:52]
Yes! Yes I can definitely do that!
Should I bring anything?
Yagi Toshinori [8:53]
just ur heroic spirit! (＾＾)ｂ
Midoriya Izuku [9:01]
Yes sir!
Izuku's entire face felt numb as he let the phone slip from his fingers onto his lap. He couldn't tell just what expression he was making – beyond that, he couldn't even describe what he was feeling. Something that toed the line of far too much and nothing at all, somehow.
He was going to meet up with All Might at an ice cream parlor.
He was going to meet up with ALL MIGHT at an ICE CREAM PARLOR.
All Might! Ice cream! A casual outing where no one would be dying or crying or in some kind of peril!
What was he going to do? Oh god what was he going to say? How on earth was he expected to ask the man what he wanted to know while looking him in the face? What if something happened while they were out? What if All Might couldn't save someone because he was too busy putting up with him?
Actually, now that he thought about it, why an ice cream parlor? Because from what Izuku had read while researching gastrectomies All Might shouldn't actually be able to digest sugar. Was it just a convenient meeting point? Should he bring money? Should he bring something sugar free for All Might just in case?
Nearly vibrating with pent up energy, Izuku reached a hand up to absently rub away the remaining tear tracks from early, only to pause in surprise as the quirk of his lips.
He was smiling.
Funny, he hadn't even noticed.
HEY IM NOT DEAD. I'm just a sad, very busy college student who got more or less run over by life for awhile in a way that gave me no free time to write. I still don't actually have time to write, but my brother was just diagnosed with cancer, so I figured, 'fuck it, I can work on my dumb BNHA vent fic if I want.' TMI and all that tho.
Thank you guys so much for your continued support! Every time I see you guys leaving reviews or following the story, even though its been months since I've posted, I am absolutely overjoyed! I'm going to try my best to start responding to all comments now. I do read all of the ones you guys leave, and they mean a lot to me!
This chapter was a bit slow, which I'm sorry for. I considered just going into the actual ice cream meetup, but that would've made this chapters around 12kt words which... not my preference, needless to say :P On the bright side, if the next chapter goes as planned, you'll be seeing not only toshinori, but a special aizawa cameo~! (no promises though, as much as I have the story planned out, it tends to yank me by the chain a lot).
Also the direct quotes during the google search bit are from and ! I have been doing... so much research...
Please feel free to hit me up on tumblr, either at my main/spam acc lagpie or my art blog arden-arts! I love chattin [insert iphone okay hand emoji]
Song of the Chapter: 'A Burning Hill' by Mitski