Trigger Warning:
- PTSD
- nightmares
- depressed thinking
Today's class ended with two hours of physical education.
The first period involved training without usage of quirks.
The second with.
It was a new change this year.
Before and during the rise of the League of Villains, U.A.'s Hero Department focused on honing quirks more than physical aptitude. But the appearance of the villains made it painfully clear from time to time how detrimental this unknowing bias was. Izuku recalled how Aizawa-san reiterated improving one's own corporal abilities to contend with evolving quirks. After All for One's execution and Shigaraki's arrest, Aizawa-san held numerous conferences with Principal Nezu and other members of the Hero Commission, advocating for equal emphasis on both aspects of heroism. Eventually, his idea was incorporated into the curriculum.
Izuku did not mind it. Not in the slightest.
However, he felt that he could do better.
That was why he was presently staring at an online flyer about an extracurricular exercise club at the university Katsuki attended. Katsuki had mentioned participating in it because the club heads were offering free karashi renkon to entice new members. A free meal that was spicy, too. He was sold then and there.
Izuku also learned from Katsuki that the club utilized an extensive gym. There was better quality equipment there than at U.A. Katsuki had not explicitly invited him, but because he had told him that registration was even open to non-university students, it would be a waste of a potential resource if Izuku did not go.
He decided that he would check it out for today. If he liked it, then he would sign up.
Having made up his mind, Izuku boarded the train to the university.
He got off at the station, and a few minutes later, he arrived at campus grounds. Izuku could not help but compare and contrast U.A. and the university. U.A. was an enormous school; it had purchased an entire hill. But this place was so much bigger. Instead of a few skyscraper-like buildings, there were many five-stories ones. Where student bodies congregated the most, cafés and restaurants prospered there. He looked at his phone for the name of the building where the club organized meetings. After ten minutes of GPS tracking and the help of six college students, Izuku found the club.
Katsuki was inside the locker room, changing into his workout clothes, when one of his seniors asked him to run an errand.
He was unamused. He and this senior had a tiff since the start of the semester. There was only one bench press that used weights painted with flames. Both of them always fought for it. Whoever arrived first, the bench press was his. It was why Katsuki had made sure to arrive twenty minutes before club officially started. Yet here he was being asked to revoke his turn at the equipment. And he was not exactly in a position where he could say no.
Complaining the entire time, he opened the door and stepped outside. Only to be greeted by broccoli green curls and eyes. Izuku's hand hovered above where the handle would be.
"Um, hi, Kacchan!" Izuku said. "You told me about the exercise extracurricular you're doing along with your internship, and I thought I could come over and try it out."
Katsuki had a thousand questions about what Izuku was thinking when he decided to come here, but more importantly, an idea sparked in Katsuki's mind. Glancing quickly over his shoulder at the senior he was beefing with, he said, "I'll give you a tour. But you have to do one thing for me first. Wait by the bench press with hot flames. Just sit there. Anyone tells you to move or ask you who are, say you're my guest. And if that guy," he pointed at the senior, "comes over, deck him in the face."
"What?" Izuku exclaimed, incredulous. "I can't hit anyone like that. I'll get in trouble."
Katsuki did not listen to his protests. He steered Izuku inside the locker room, telling him to take advantage of his future Symbol of Peace title. No one would dare to cross the hero who saved Japan. Izuku could not argue with that logic. Just before they crossed the threshold into the gym, Katsuki gave a petty grin to his senior. He had only made this expression once: during his first year at U.A., when two students who dissed Class 1-A at the School Festival took back what they said after the class's fantastic concert. Since then, this was the second time he made that face. Sucks to be you, was what he said without words. The clenched jaw, narrowed eyes, and low growl his senior returned were totally worth it.
Chuckling to himself, he guided Izuku into the gym and sat him down on the bench press. "Be back in five minutes."
True to his word, Katsuki did return in five minutes.
But what Katsuki did not know was that during those five minutes, Izuku had turned into a rigid ball of sweat and nerves. He kept trying to remind himself that he had undergone so much growth in the past few years, so a few nasty side-eyes and hushed comments were nothing.
However, at the same time, the price at which that growth came … he was still paying it. After the wars were over, he began to struggle with PTSD nightmares. They were frequent at first. Almost every night he had them. Sometimes during the day as well. His mom, All Might, Katsuki, Aizawa-san, and all his other loved ones were quick to scour for therapy options, and Izuku himself was receptive to it. After all, he wanted to have a normal third year.
He went biweekly to meet with his therapist, and it did seem to help improve his mental health. But only in terms of delaying the gap between nightmares. Instead of experiencing them every night, now he dreamt them every few weeks. They had not lessened in intensity. His therapist informed him that each patient was different, and for some, it took years to heal. His therapist also suggested engaging in self-fulfilling hobbies and interests to cope with the bad dreams.
Izuku wondered if that was one of his reasons for coming to the exercise club.
He stopped and schooled his features when he heard Katsuki's footsteps enter the gym.
"Did you bring a change of workout clothes?" Katsuki asked immediately.
Izuku lifted his backpack and smiled. "Yes!"
"Go get changed then!"
Two hours and thirty minutes later, Izuku was burned out.
Physically, to be specific.
Otherwise, mentally, he was pumped about the entire ordeal. The club was a brilliant resource.
At the moment, he was in one of the shower cubicles inside the men's locker room. There were only five cubicles and more than twenty guys. Maybe due to impress-the-newcomer psychology, the college students let him enter one of the stalls first. Katsuki did not get the same preferential treatment, however. Izuku laughed to himself at the memory of Katsuki shoving and yelling at his rival senior. He went as far as tossing his sweaty tank at his senior, buying a few seconds of distraction to close the privacy curtain, and seizing the shower for himself.
Katsuki was in the stall beside his. He liked hot showers. As in, water-hot-enough-to-scald showers. The university's water facilities did not accommodate that level of high temperatures, so Katsuki improvised. Clouds of steam rose from there, and Katsuki used his explosion quirk to make water fireworks out of them. The cheers of the other boys in the locker room and the hiss of his rival only encouraged him further.
Eventually, those fireworks dissipated into water droplets, seeping into Izuku's stall. Izuku, who preferred lukewarm showers. Not that he minded the heat. He was more invested in his thoughts as he scrubbed his skin.
It was funny how the guy who gave advice to Izuku on how to dress for a date to the café was the same guy who resorted to this behavior. Yes, Izuku had finally admitted to himself that that evening was indeed a date. And the night at the restaurant and the carnival were also a date. Lately, he had come up with a new mechanism to delay the nightmares: think about something happy as he lied in bed.
Most of the time, he thought about a particular tall girl with russet fur and a soft tail who enjoyed music, plushies, beaches, and basically everything sweet. Furukawa was such a sweet girl. So honest and pure, it was rare to encounter someone who did not have ulterior motives or a blood-ridden past like his.
Blood …
The word was enough to make him pause.
The water continued to run, but Izuku stopped washing himself. His hands hung limply where he was scrubbing earlier. Soap trailed down his body, just as his mind spiralled into the dark rabbit hole called trauma.
The attack at U.S.J. Hero Killer Stain. Noumu. Katsuki's kidnapping. All for One's appearance. All Might's retirement. Shie Hassaikai. And all the wars after that. Each memory was riddled with blood, fear, and pain. All of Japan recognized Izuku as the beacon to a peaceful future. What Japan did not know was the inner turmoil he concealed. The one war he had yet to prevail. The war with himself.
Right now was a terrible time to delve into the deepest recesses of his mind, but there was nothing he could do to stop it once it began. He heard howls of anguish and rage. He smelled the stench of blood and decay in the air. More disturbingly, he saw destroyed buildings and dead bodies. Of his classmates, his teachers, even of the villains. Each face materialized with immense clarity. One was more vivid than the rest: Katsuki's.
Izuku recalled how close to death Katsuki came when he took Shigaraki's attacks. On more than one occasion. There he was: bruised and beaten up; pierced with countless holes; dead, but standing like a zombie. Blood spilled from each wound and dribbled from his mouth. Zombie Katsuki lifted his hand to land a blow at Izuku. He stood in place, accepting what was about to happen to him because he knew he deserved it.
The zombie punched a hole through his head. Izuku staggered back from the blow. He blinked.
Suddenly, he was no longer at the ravaged battlefield.
There were no corpses or screaming. Only wet, white tiled walls and the flow of water from the shower head. But Izuku was not alone. The privacy curtain of his stall was open, and the person holding it was Katsuki. His hand hovered above Izuku's head. It was not dead Bakugou but living Bakugou who had hit him.
"I called out your name so many times, but you weren't responding," Katsuki said. "So I had to check up on you. Everyone else left."
"O-o-okay …" Izuku stammered.
Katsuki's expression softened from that of confusion and concern to understanding. "Come out when you're ready," he stated before shutting the curtain. He was not the type of person to directly ask if someone was all right. Words were never his forte. That was fine. Katsuki displayed his camaraderie via his actions. Izuku knew that.
He knew that Katsuki would wait for him. Izuku tried to take comfort from that. He rubbed some soap over the deep cross-shaped scar over his heart. Then onto the long, ropelike scars on his back. He did not dare think about the stories behind them. Not now. Miraculously, he survived those injuries. That was all he needed to be grateful for.
Izuku coughed out a little blood. All Might also vomited blood when he and Izuku first met. It was the effect of accumulated wounds and damaged internal organs. It was part of the legacy Izuku inherited from him. Of course, his body had not deteriorated as much as his mentor's, but the torture it went through would have long-lasting effects after healing. The most Izuku could do was avoid strenuous and lethal physical activities like he did when he was younger.
Izuku came out of the shower and dressed. As promised, Katsuki was sitting on the middle benches, scrolling through his phone.
"Let's go," Katsuki said.
Izuku nodded.
The memories Izuku had tried to avoid returned that night with a vengeance.
His happy thoughts tactic failed.
This night, he dreamt of a new war-torn area. One where ash littered the ground and fire rained from the sky. Each ball of fire looked like a shooting star. Cursed stars that carried the cries of someone he knew that once lived. There was nothing for the fire to incinerate. But that did not hinder them from continuing to burn once they hit the ground. An arena of flames ignited the dark setting, trapping Izuku in hell. Every ball that landed kicked up a swirl of ash. The process of burning was reversed. The ash coagulated into humanoid figures with bones and flesh. The living corpses of those at the moment of death. They moved like automatons, steadily cornering Izuku from all directions.
And like automatons, they made unanimous declarations. Their voices were raspy, but Izuku could identify the owner of each voice. The dead pointed fingers at him, cursed at him, spit ash at him. "You promised to protect us," one of them said. "Was becoming a hero worth the price?" another seethed. Izuku did not know which one pushed him. They held him guilty of their fates. Izuku did not blame them.
"I'm sorry," he tried to plead. "Please believe me. I really am. I tried my best and failed."
The undead of his nightmare would not hear any excuses. Their accusations only grew until the magic holding them together fell apart. Flesh fell from their bones. Bones crumbled into powdery ash.
The sight was horrible. Izuku could not take it any longer. He shut his eyes and ran away, wailing. He had no sense of direction. He did not care. The fire, the ash, the dead … they were all a manifestation of his anguish, and he could take no more. Finally, he reached darkness. He could not see the sky nor the ground anymore. Izuku simply kept running.
Then a laugh that made shivers tingle down his spine even to this day echoed in his ears.
All for One.
That demonic, diabolical laugh. Izuku looked up. The monster who terrorized Japan for centuries was gigantic in comparison to Izuku. The shriek he wanted to let out got stuck in his throat. Tears leaked from his eyes instead. He fell to his knees and looked at what he was touching. Izuku was in All for One's palm. For as far as he could see, he was at the utter mercy of the devil.
"Please," he choked out.
The chuckle grew more sinister.
"Reap what you sow, Midoriya Izuku," All for One said before he closed his fist.
Izuku woke up screaming.
His mom rushed into his bedroom, trying to hold her son and calm him down.
She whispered, "You're safe, Izuku. It's all over. No one is going to hurt you."
Eventually, her words reached him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face between her neck and shoulder. His mother reciprocated the hug and rocked him back and forth. The crying and the gentle motion felt cathartic. Slowly, the tension left his body. Her fingers rubbed the back of his head in soft but firm strokes.
"M-M-Mom?" he spoke after a while.
"Yes, my baby?" she replied instantly.
"I-I'm sorry."
"None of it was your fault, okay? You saved Japan. The people know that. I know that. Their deaths are not on your hands. There is nothing to be sorry for, my baby. You did nothing wrong. Come. I'll make you something warm to drink."
Silently, he got out of bed and followed his mother into the kitchen. She prepared heating some milk with herbs. Izuku watched passively. He was not quite in the present. When the drink was prepared, he mechanically accepted and drank it. His mom gave him more comforting words, and he smiled weakly at all of them.
When he returned to his room, he hesitantly picked up his phone and called Aizawa-san. It was past midnight. Normal people would be asleep at this time. Not Aizawa-san. He was nocturnal, deigning to sleep when it was bright and sunny. After three rings, the phone call was answered on the other end.
Aizawa-san was the one who recommended Izuku's current therapist, so he was also quick to realize that it must be something related to that for Izuku to call so late at night.
After narrating the details of the nightmare, Aizawa-san informed about other facilities at the therapist's office. "The company also trains dogs for their patients. It's in high demand. The heroes who go there have a preference for the dog Inu. German Shepherd. Your next session is this week, right? Try requesting some time with him. And come over to visit Eri, too. It's been a while."
"Sure thing, Aizawa-san. Thanks for taking the time to listen to me. Good night," Izuku bid.
He heard a loud scoff on the other end. "It's good night to you, and good morning to me. A new reality TV show about cats just came out, which I must binge-watch."
Izuku laughed a little before hanging up.
He was afraid of falling back into that nightmare. As he thought about a new solution, his gaze landed on the fox plushie on his bed. The one that Furukawa got for him.
He smiled easier this time. Climbing into bed, he reached for it and hugged it close.
The soothing effect was almost immediate.
Izuku slept soundly for the rest of the night.