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Leave it to Mina to come up with something like this. The class's resident social butterfly had a knack for coming up with group activities that brought everyone together. Even Shinsou, who normally crashed at his own place, was bunking in the dorms with them tonight. Izuku couldn't help but marvel at how one small moment had snowballed into all of this.
"Izuku?"
A mop of bubblegum pink hair peeked through the crack in his door, spilling light into the dim room. Mina had somehow wormed her way into his inner circle, becoming one of the few allowed to barge in unannounced. With her uncanny ability to sense when someone needed a friend, she'd been his rock more times than he could count since the war turned their world upside down. As they stumbled their way back to some semblance of normal life—or as normal as it gets at UA—her presence had become a constant comfort.
He let out a soft groan, burrowing deeper under the blanket. All he wanted was to sleep the day away, his body feeling like lead and his mind a foggy mess. But life, or rather Mina, had other ideas. The door clicked shut, and he heard her padding over, the mattress dipping as she settled beside him.
"Hey," she murmured, tugging the blanket down just enough to peek at his weary green eyes. Izuku felt a mix of annoyance and relief at her stubbornness, the comforting weight of her presence already washing over him. "What's eating at you today, Midoriya?"
"Hurts..." He mumbled, curling into a tight ball. Recovery Girl's words echoed in his mind—chronic pain, she'd said. His body was a battlefield of scars, each one a reminder of how he'd pushed his quirk to its limits and beyond. But today, the pain went deeper than just physical aches. His emotions were raw, frayed at the edges, and his brain felt like it was drowning in a sea of noise.
The outside world? It would be too much for him to handle.
Mina let out a soft sigh, her soft pink fingers finding their way to his messy curls. She stroked them gently, touch as light as a feather. "Want me to stick around? Or should I grab someone else for you?"
"No..." The words tumbled out quickly. "You can stay." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but the urgency in it wasn’t missed. Izuku surprised himself with how quickly he'd answered, how much he suddenly didn't want to be alone.
"Gotcha," Mina said softly, her voice warm and soothing. "I'm here if you need a distraction or anything, 'kay? No pressure."
He nodded slowly, scooting over to make space for her. Mina settled in, pulling out her phone and dimming the screen to a soft glow. She opened TikTok, and soon they were lost in a world of silly videos and memes that Izuku found himself giggling at despite the pain. Hours slipped by unnoticed until Katsuki returned from class. With just a glance between them, Mina quietly slipped out, and Katsuki took her place. His boyfriend's arms wrapped around him, warm and familiar, as Izuku nestled into the comfort of his embrace.
That night, Mina texted the class group chat with a plan: they were all crashing in the dorm lounge on Friday for an epic sleepover.
Three days had flown by, and now it was Friday. Izuku couldn't shake the feeling that this whole sleepover thing was Mina's way of looking out for him. After all, she'd seen him at one of his lowest points earlier that week. It was just like her to come up something like this out of the blue, especially if she thought it might help a friend in need.
"Hey, hope you don't mind I brought a little guest along."
Izuku glanced up from his spot on the couch. The dorm was buzzing with activity—Mina and the girls were busy transforming the lounge into a cozy nest of blankets and pillows, while the guys were causing a ruckus in the kitchen. Izuku had planted himself firmly out of everyone's way, content to watch the chaos unfold. But the moment he caught sight of a familiar mop of silvery hair, his face lit up. He pocketed his phone and sprang to his feet, eager to greet the unexpected visitor.
"Eri!" Izuku's face lit up, his arms were already outstretched before she even reached him.
"Iza!" The little girl barrelled towards him, her hand slipping free from Shinsou's grasp. She crashed into Izuku's legs, wrapping herself around them. Chuckling, he scooped her up in a bear hug, her giggles filling the air.
"Look who's here, everyone!" Izuku announced, his voice warm with affection.
"Eri!" Ochako squealed, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the little girl. The rest of the girls quickly swarmed around, cooing and fussing over their unexpected guest. Izuku gently set Eri down, letting her bask in the attention while he made his way over to Shinsou. The purple-haired boy looked as exhausted as ever, but there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"Dad's orders," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation. "Try not to wreck the place too badly."
"I bet he's got hidden cameras all over the place," Izuku chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Mr. Aizawa's probably watching us right now, making sure we don't burn down the dorms." He grinned, both of them knowing it was just playful banter. After all they'd been through together, their teacher's trust in them ran deeper than any ocean. And the feeling was mutual—they'd follow Aizawa into the depths of hell if he asked.
Shinsou let out a dry chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Wouldn't surprise me if the old man's got eyes everywhere. Probably watching us right now, waiting for someone to step out of line."
Izuku couldn't help but smile, grateful that Shinsou had agreed to join them. His transfer to their class had been a great change, and despite their rocky start at the sports festival, they'd grown close. It made Izuku's more than happy to see Shinsou finally surrounded by people who saw past his quirk and accepted him for who he was. Sure, it was a bit weird sometimes, knowing he was Mr. Aizawa's kid, but that was just a small detail in the grand scheme of things. A burst of laughter from the kitchen drew their attention. Katsuki's voice rose above the chatter, colourful expletives flying as he berated someone for messing up whatever culinary creation he was working on. Izuku and Shinsou shared an amused glance, both silently agreeing that some things never changed.
Curiosity got the better of them, and they wandered over to the kitchen to check out the commotion. The scene that greeted them was pure chaos. Denki and Kirishima were standing there, looking like ghosts with flour coating every inch of them. Katsuki, predictably, had gone nuclear, his face redder than a tomato as he hurled insults at the flour-covered duo. Poor Iida was frantically trying to keep the peace, his arms chopping through the air like windmills. Meanwhile, Sero, Tokoyami, Shouji, and Shouto had front-row seats to the spectacle, their expressions a mix of amusement and mild concern.
Izuku couldn't help but crack up at the chaos unfolding before him. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through his chest as he took in the scene. After all the shit they'd been through, seeing his friends goofing off together like this was beyond refreshing. It was like a balm for his battle-worn soul. His eyes caught on Shouto, whose usually stoic face morphed into a fond smile when he spotted Shinsou. In a heartbeat, Shouto was weaving through the flour-covered disaster zone, making a beeline for his boyfriend. He planted a quick peck on Shinsou's cheek, a faint blush dusting his face.
"Hey," Shouto mumbled, suddenly finding his shoes incredibly interesting.
"Hey yourself," Shinsou replied, his lips quirking up.
Izuku couldn't help but smile. Those two were still so awkward around each other, all shy glances and flustered touches. It was adorable. Not that he could talk, though. He and Katsuki were just as bad, fumbling through their own relationship with a significant lack of grace. But hey, that was half the fun, wasn't it?
As if on cue, the boy in question huffed, setting down his baking equipment and making his way over. He brushed his hand against Izuku's, a subtle touch that sent sparks through both of them. They were still keeping their relationship under wraps, with Mina being the only one in the know. And even that wasn't by choice—the girl had a skill for sniffing out secrets. She'd figured them out faster than Izuku could say "Plus Ultra".
"Hey, I thought I heard the kid. Eri wanna lend a hand with the baking? Bet she'd run circles around these flour-covered disasters," Katsuki jerked his thumb towards Denki and Kirishima, a mix of exasperation and amusement dancing in his eyes.
Izuku snorted, shaking his head. "I could ask, but she's probably having way too much fun with the girls right now. You know how they get when Eri's around."
It hit him then, how weirdly normal this all felt. Here they were, standing in the kitchen, Katsuki wearing that ridiculous apron, talking about baking with a kid. Like some kind of domestic dream come true. The thought made Izuku's heart do a little flip.
"Nah, let her have fun with the girls. But seriously, can you get everyone else outta here? I'm about to lose it."
Izuku could see the real frustration bubbling beneath Katsuki's grumpy exterior. He nodded, understanding the silent plea in those ruby eyes. Turning to the flour-covered chaos squad, he raised his voice. "Alright, guys! Kitchen's off-limits! Kacchan needs space to work his magic!"
The kitchen erupted with a chorus of groans, mostly from the flour-covered duo. But even Kirishima and Denki knew better than to argue with a Bakugou on a mission. They put up a token protest, all dramatic sighs and puppy-dog eyes, but ultimately let Sero shepherd them out. The rest of the gang followed suit, leaving just Izuku, Todoroki, Shinsou, and Katsuki behind.
"What’re you cooking up in there?" Shinsou asked, trying to sneak a peek around Katsuki. The blonde wasn't having it though, planting himself firmly in the way with arms crossed like some kind of grumpy kitchen bouncer.
"Mind your own damn business and scram!" Katsuki growled, but there was no real heat behind it.
Izuku couldn't help but snicker at their antics. "Alright, alright, let's leave the master chef to his mysterious creations," he said, gently tugging on Shinsou's sleeve. "C'mon, let's go see what kind of trouble Eri's stirred up with the girls."
As they made their way back to the lounge, the sound of laughter and excited chatter grew louder. Rounding the corner, they were greeted by a sight that made Izuku's heart swell with warmth. Eri was perched on Momo's lap, her silver hair adorned with a multitude of colourful clips and ribbons, courtesy of Mina's expert styling. The little girl's eyes sparkled with joy as she showed off her new look to an adoring audience of UA's finest heroes-in-training.
"Yo, toss some of those ribbons my way!" Kirishima grinned, bouncing on his heels. "It'll look totally rad and manly!" He plopped down next to Eri, eager for the little girl and Mina to work their magic on his spiky red locks.
"Alright, movie time!" Mina chirped, clapping her hands together. "What's it gonna be?"
The suggestions flew fast and furious, each more ridiculous than the last.
"How about a good old-fashioned slasher flick?" Denki grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Oh please, we need something with more heart!" Hagakure insisted. "Like 'The Notebook'!"
"No way in hell!" Bakugou snarled, his face scrunching up like he'd just bitten into a lemon. He stomped into the lounge, the scent of fresh-baked goods trailing behind him. "And for the record, cookies'll be ready in thirty.”
Izuku couldn't help but bust out laughing at the chaos unfolding around him. It was moments like these that made him truly appreciate the family they'd become. As the debate over movie choices raged on, he caught Katsuki's eye and shared a secret smile. No matter what they ended up watching, he knew this night was going to be perfect.
"Shigaraki, please!" Izuku's voice cracked with desperation. "You don't have to go down this path. There's still good in you, I know it!"
A cruel smirk twisted Shigaraki's lips. "Oh, Midoriya. Still so naive, aren't you?”
His hand shot out, fingers splayed, reaching for Izuku's face. "Let me show you just how wrong you are." Izuku's eyes widened in horror as he realised his mistake. He'd gotten too close, let his guard down for just a moment, and now—
He couldn't breathe. Shigaraki's hand clamped around his face with crushing force, skin crumbling beneath deadly fingers. His face was coming apart, disintegrating like sand in a violent storm. Izuku's world exploded into agony as he felt his flesh dissolve, peeling away in agonising layers.
Nails dug deeper, tearing through muscle and sinew with sickening ease. Blood vessels burst, painting what remained of his face in a gruesome crimson mask. The decay spread rapidly, eating through his cheeks and exposing the stark white of his teeth. His jaw hung loosely, held together by mere threads of tissue as Shigaraki's quirk ravaged his skull. Izuku's screams tore from his throat, gurgling and inhuman as his lips cracked and gave way. The sound was cut short as his vocal cords disintegrated, leaving only a horrifying wheeze. His eyes bulged in their sockets, blood vessels bursting and turning the whites a hellish red before they too began to liquefy.
The decay burrowed deeper, searing into his skull like white-hot pokers. Bone crumbled and brain matter oozed, memories and thoughts literally melting away under Shigaraki's relentless assault. Izuku's body convulsed violently, his nervous system firing wildly as it was consumed piece by agonising piece.
In a final, grotesque display, what remained of Izuku's face sloughed off in chunks, revealing the horror of his partially decayed skull. Shigaraki's quirk ate through him headfirst, leaving behind a trail of dust and gore.
He jolted awake, a bone-chilling scream tearing from his throat. The raw sound echoed through the dark room as the last tendrils of the nightmare clung to his consciousness.
The scream must've jolted everyone awake, because suddenly there were hands all over him, voices yelling, but it all sounded like he was underwater. Izuku panicked, thrashing against the grip, desperate to break free. His mind was still caught in that hellish nightmare, unable to separate reality from the horrors he'd just witnessed. His brain still buzzed with phantom pain, like his skull was being ripped apart all over again.
Izuku lashed out, his fist connecting with something solid. Then, before he could react again, strong arms enveloped him, pulling him close. The sudden warmth seeped into his bones, anchoring him. His breath still came in ragged gasps, but the fog in his mind started to clear. Voices filtered through, becoming more distinct with each passing second.
"— what do we do?" someone hissed.
"— we get Mr. Aizawa?" another voice chimed in, panic evident.
"No, wait—" A familiar voice cut through the chaos. "Izuku, can you hear me?"
Kacchan?
Izuku blinked rapidly, his vision swimming into focus like a camera lens adjusting. The world around him sharpened, revealing worried faces hovering nearby. His heart was still racing, but the familiar scent of nitroglycerin and spice filled his nostrils, grounding him. It was Kacchan's scent, unmistakable and comforting. He realised he was wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms, the warmth seeping into his trembling body. Katsuki’s grip was firm but gentle, a silent reminder that he was safe. Izuku's gaze darted around, taking in the concerned expressions of his classmates. Mina's usually cheerful face was creased with worry, while Kirishima looked ready to jump into action at any moment. Even Todoroki's typically stoic demeanour had cracked, revealing a flicker of concern in his mismatched eyes.
As the seconds ticked by, the nightmare's iron grip on Izuku's mind began to loosen. The horrific images that had felt so real just moments ago started to fade, replaced by the solid reality of his friends surrounding him. He took a shaky breath, then another, feeling his racing pulse begin to slow. The terror that had consumed him was ebbing away, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion and a lingering sense of unease.
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I'm sorry," Izuku croaked, his voice hoarse from screaming. The apology was met with a chorus of protests, his friends' voices overlapping in their rush to reassure him.
"Dumbass. Don't you dare apologise," Katsuki growled, his voice a mix of gruff affection and concern. His crimson eyes, usually sharp as knives, had softened to something more akin to warm embers as he gazed down at Izuku. "We all get our asses kicked by nightmares sometimes."
Izuku nodded, a lump forming in his throat as a tidal wave of gratitude crashed over him. He melted into Katsuki's embrace, soaking up the familiar warmth like a sponge. It felt like coming home after a long, terrifying journey. With each breath, he felt a little more grounded, a little more... here.
"You okay, Deku? Need some water or something?" Uraraka's voice was soft, concern etched on her face. Behind her, Eri peeked out, her tiny frame quivering. The sight of the little girl made Izuku's heart clench. Shit. Eri shouldn't have seen that.
"Eri, I'm so—"
Before he could finish, the girl darted forward, flinging herself at him and Katsuki. Her small arms wrapped around them both as she buried her face in Izuku's chest, her quiet sobs muffled against his shirt. The weight of her, warm and real, grounded him further in the present moment.
"Eri..." Izuku's voice trailed off, his eyes darting to Shinsou. "Is she gonna be alright?" He couldn't help but chew on his lip, worry gnawing at his insides. Shinsou's brow furrowed, his usual deadpan expression softening.
"Deku, we're worried about you right now."
Izuku felt a sharp pang of guilt twist in his chest at Shinsou's words. The concern in his friend's voice was palpable, and he knew deep down that they were right to be worried. But despite their reassurances, Izuku couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he had somehow failed them all. The nightmare had left him feeling raw and exposed, like an open wound that refused to heal. He hated the idea of burdening his friends with his troubles, especially when they had all been through so much already. The weight of their expectations, both real and imagined, pressed down on him like a physical force. Izuku struggled to placate his desire to be strong for them with the vulnerability he felt in this moment. It was a delicate balance, one he wasn't sure he could keep up.
The conflict of needing help but wanting to look tough was eating at him, threatening to undo the shaky calm he'd just managed to grab onto. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Somehow, he had to find a way to let his guard down without feeling like he was dumping his problems on everyone else. He wasn't sure he had the balance for that just yet.
As if to prove his internal monologue, the dam inside him burst. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. The tears kept coming, a flood he couldn't hold back no matter how hard he tried. Each sob shook his body, making him feel like he might fall apart. Part of him wanted to pull away from Katsuki's arms and Eri's hug, to curl up and hide away from everyone like he did before. But he didn't have the strength—or if he was honest, the want— to push them away. They were his friends. His family.
"It's gonna be okay, Deku. We're all in this together, you know?" Mina's voice cracked a little, her usual pep tinged with worry. She was trying her best to keep it together, but Izuku could see right through it.
As he glanced around at his classmates, he saw the same mix of concern and determination mirrored on every face. They were all carrying their own burdens, their own nightmares. But here they were, huddled together in the middle of the night, ready to face whatever came their way. As that realisation hit him, Izuku felt a warmth bloom in his chest that only made him cry more. Tears of relief this time.
"I... I don't know what I'd do without you guys," he managed to choke out, a watery smile tugging at his lips. He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve in a gesture that was more kid than hero-in-training.
But right now, surrounded by his friends, he didn't need to be anything other than himself.