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When you feel like shit, it's very hard to be a cheery person. At least, that was Izuku's opinion anyway. Everything sucked right now and it wasn't even seven in the morning yet.
The static that echoed in his ears was slightly more pitched than usual. It was louder too. Maybe that's why he noticed it so quickly. Or maybe it was how the hall light slipped under his door and seemed to blind him. The ever-present dark that cloaked his room was a softer yellow-gray. It sought out his eyes. Who the hell left the light on?
His skin itched, but not in the way where a simple scratch could solve the problem, no, it was a deep persistent itch that burned like lightning the longer it persisted. He felt heavy. His tongue, his legs, and even his head felt like an anvil. Everything felt...off. Like he suddenly didn't have control over his body anymore.
When he first awoke, it was only four in the morning. He rarely got up that early anymore, as most of his training buddies didn't get up until five to work out anyway. Any other time he would've been happy to go back to sleep, but the needles stabbing into his left eye had other plans for how he would spend his Tuesday morning.
Wincing at the pain, he groaned dramatically. Why today of all days? His brain couldn't hate him on a weekend or something? Breathing only made the needles burrow deeper into his skull, the pain rippling out in waves around his eyebrows and to the back of his neck. It was like someone had poured hot sauce down his nose and let it seep into an open wound. It hurt.
Everything hurt.
Shaking hands held onto the mattress in a feeble attempt to pull himself into a sitting position. Everything spun around him until he was able to lean his body against the drywall. The imperfect texture and its cold temperature were heaven on his too-warm skin.
Every ounce of energy he exerted drained him, leaving him breathless. His lungs quivered and quaked like he'd just done suicide sprints for the last six hours. Goosebumps prickled his skin telling him he was freezing despite how hot he felt. Nausea crept up the back of his throat like a persistent neighbor you did not want to see.
Then his alarm clock went off.
Hell pranced around, dancing and gliding savagely in his skull. Needles stabbing his eyes grew into steel nails as the shrill squeaking of his alarm permeated the room. The screaming clock was trying to kill him, Izuku was convinced.
Without even realizing it, Izuku punched his alarm clock using his quirk, absolutely destroying the alarm clock from Hell.
The void-like silence after that was too loud and oppressive. The ringing in his ears amplified louder and louder by the second. A low whine escaped him as tears sprung in his eyes. It might've been less painful if someone were to use a rusty spoon to surgically extract his eyes than if he were to deal with this migraine.
Music would've helped. A low, light melody to draw his focus would help with the pain. But the light from his phone would blind his eyes and sear the light into his skull. He'd let Eri play with his phone last week and she moved all of his apps. He didn't even know where his music app was without looking directly into the too-bright, too-harsh lighting.
Kami, he wished he had studied where all his apps were.
In his pain, he tried to shift his focus. If he could stop thinking about having a headache, the pain would lessen, marginally, but it would lessen. Why did he even have a migraine? He had plenty of water last night; four bottles worth of pure water split between working out and simply drinking it. He'd eaten enough too, Kacchan and Sato had worked together to make a chicken cutlet dinner last night. Hell, he'd had two plates! He'd been sleeping a full seven hours each day--sometimes he even got an entire eight hours! He wasn't even on his phone all that much in the past few days, his classmates wanted to have a class Uno tournament.
His brain throbbed pitifully and almost resentfully at the thought. It was just a dick today.
The pain blinded him and the room swayed a little bit any time he moved his head. He needed ibuprofen. He needed to get up, take his drugs, go back to sleep, and get rid of his migraine. But getting up meant the nausea would come back. Getting up meant that the room would sway and his vision would blur.
Maybe he could just stick it out. The pain would suck, and last for a long while, but at least the nausea would be further away. His skull felt as if All Might decided to pry his head in half just for the fun of it. Kami, he needed that ibuprofen.
Leaning off of the wall, his head swayed and pulled his body to the edge of his bed, almost forcing him to slip off. The room twirled around him and a queasy nausea climbed up the back of his throat. The other side of his room never felt so far away.
His feet gently pushed off of the ground, knees shaking from exertion. His heart was beating so fast, his control over himself was weak and thready like he'd over-exerted himself when he was working out. He stood slowly, his vision only slipping from focus twice.
Each step threatened to topple him over. It felt like the floor rose and fell with some ever-distant tide. It was a process to walk the measly eight steps to his desk. Right foot forward, breathe out, hold still, and try to rebalance. Breathe in, left foot forward, and blink away the dancing gray dots in his vision. Over and over.
He'd never been so thankful for the thick wooden desk chair that let him crash into it once his knees buckled below him. His shirt clung to his skin as sweat beaded along his hairline. The room was swelteringly hot but the goosebumps persisted. He leaned on his desk, his forehead gently resting against the cool wood. 'Just one moment,' he thought—just one moment of rest.
He blinked his eyes open what felt like only seconds later to the noise of his classmates getting ready for class. A groan slipped past his lips as a hammer was beaten into his skull. Shaking hands, he reached into the cabinet containing his ibuprofen. Fuck. It was empty.
He'd let Ochako use the last of it on Friday.
He never replaced it.
Dread-filled pain washed over him as a tear leaked from his eye. Moving now was only going to make everything worse.
The thumps and bangs of his classmates punched him over and over again, voices echoed loud and clear in the hallway. His brain felt like it had suddenly been placed into a blender on high. Maybe that's why the room spun around him in fast, tightening circles. What time was it? His first alarm went off at 5:15, sure, but everyone was up? Was it already 6:30?
It hurt to think. Izuku didn't think he could even get up to ask his friends to keep it down. Warm tears fell from his eyes as the pain filled him.
A breath in, pain expanded like a cloud in his head.
A breath out, pain seeped into his veins making his limbs heavy.
A knock on his door had him covering his ears pitifully, a sob muffled by the wood of his desk. "Midoriya? Are you awake? Class will be starting in fifteen minutes, you aren't usually this late." Iida's booming voice rattled outside the door. Tears flowed freely from his eyes now, which only made the headache worse. His knocking was persistent and gradually gained force.
Izuku loved Iida, but kami right now he just wanted to be left alone.
"What's wrong with Deku?"
Was that Ochako? Kami, he didn't want her to feel bad for using the lat of the ibuprofen.
He wanted to get up and answer the door, politely tell them he wasn't feeling well, and go back to sleep, but there was no way that was happening.
"He's not answering. Midoriya! Class starts soon."
Two sets of knocking fists reverberated on his door. It was like a drummer was playing in his head. Every crash on his door echoed like a snare drum. His sobs couldn't be heard over the knocking. "Guys...please...it's okay.." he whimpered, his voice grating against his ears.
His skull was a concrete prison and his headache simply expanded like a balloon, pushing further and further against the confines. A knife pressed into his eyes over and over, unrelenting. Breathing felt like ground pepper was being forced into his lungs, burning him from the inside out.
"Oi, what the fuck are you idiots doing to Deku's door?"
Kacchan's loud voice pierced his skull, but at least the knocking stopped. Tears still ran freely from his eyes, and he couldn't lift his head from his slumped form on the desk. The wood now had a sweaty kind of warmth that gave him little to no relief now.
"Midoriya hasn't gotten up for class yet. It's not like him--he won't even answer the door!" Iida declared matter of factly.
He could practically feel Kacchan's scoff from where he was. "You idiots think he's acting weird and you just fucking knock? Given that idiot's track record, he could be fucking kidnapped or some shit, get out of the damn way." Izuku heard shuffling from outside the door before Kacchan was speaking again. "Oi, Deku, I'm coming in."
The doorknob turned and suddenly the hall light flooded into his room. Izuku hissed in pain and buried his eyes further into his arms seeking an effective blindfold. It didn't work that well. Light seemed to trickle in and snake its way to his eyes just to spite him.
"Deku?" Ochako's soft voice called to him. He could feel three pairs of eyes burning holes into him, but if he looked up to greet them he was pretty sure his brain would melt.
Izuku softly hummed in affirmation, hoping the noise would lessen their worries. It did not work in his favor.
He could hear someone approach the desk, their shadow creating a decent enough shield from the hallway light. The empty ibuprofen bottle was gently taken from his grasp. "You got a headache, Nerd?" Kacchan asked in a deliberately soft voice.
The best part about having a childhood friend was that they knew all of your issues, even if you didn't want them to. Izuku nodded slowly in the crook of his elbow, the action alone sent a wave of nausea to overtake him.
"Go get me the ibuprofen bottle from the kitchen, the nerd has a migraine. Round-cheeks tell Aizawa Deku's not going to be in class." Kacchan ordered, "Oh, and turn off the hall light, he's got light sensitivity."
Izuku's shoulders slumped in relief as the silence came back to greet him. The ringing in his ear was still loud, high-pitched, and squealing, but at least the loud, booming knocks stopped. Mere seconds later the darkness surrounded him again, allowing a grateful sigh to escape his lips.
"Nauseous?"
Izuku nodded minimally. His brain was a marble that swirled and rolled with his every movement.
"Figured," Kacchan sighed. "I'll be right back."
Within seconds, he was alone again. He almost found reprieve in it, but his brain still throbbed painfully as the seconds ticked by. His skin felt too thin, too much. His jaw was too thick, too heavy. His fingers were tight and his arms had that tingling sensation of pins and needles shooting through them.
Izuku groaned, everything hurt.
"That excited to see me, huh?" Kacchan's voice softly murmured before Izuku felt a cold washcloth being placed against his neck. He sighed into the cooling feeling gratefully. For someone who always stomped around everywhere, Kacchan could be quiet when he wanted to be. Izuku didn't even hear him walk in.
Something was rustled next to his bed before Kacchan was next to him again. "There's a trashcan next to your bed. Sit up so you can take these pills then we can get you into bed."
Izuku groaned at the idea of getting up. "I know, I know, it's going to suck but the sooner this is over with the sooner you get to sleep the headache off." Izuku huffed at the words before mentally steeling himself. His arms shook as he pushed up against the desk, his vision blacking out as his head rose. He nearly toppled over due to the dizzied swaying, but Kacchan steadied his shoulders as his head slumped backward.
Breathe in, the gray dots danced merrily in his vision.
Blink.
Breathe out, the world was coming back into focus.
Repeat.
Soon enough Izuku could make out his room again, something he was incredibly happy for. Green eyes glanced over at Kacchan. He wasn't expecting the worried furrow he saw on his friend's face.
"Ready for the drugs?" The blonde asked after seeing the clarity in Izuku's eyes.
Humming, Izuku reached a shaking hand out as Kacchan placed a few tablets in his hand. The greenette rested them on his tongue, making a sour face as he did so, and made a grabbing motion toward the water bottle in his friend's hand.
The water was cool on his sandpaper tongue. As he swallowed he could feel the water cool the heat in his lungs and the fire in his veins. Maybe he was dehydrated.
He groaned once the drugs were downed, and his eyes slipped closed for just a moment to steady himself. He was so fucking tired. Migraines always sapped his energy for days after he had one, and with the exhaustion pulling at his eyes he knew he was going to sleep for the majority of the day.
He blinked, really he only blinked, and then he's being poked in the arm by the blonde. A grunt escaped him as he tried to pull away from his friend. Izuku could practically feel his friend's eye roll. "Don't grunt at me, I'm not the idiot trying to fall asleep at his desk with a migraine. Now how do you want to do this? I know touching with a headache only makes shit worse," Kacchan's gruff voice whispered, annoyance and concern equally clear in his tone.
Kami, that was the worst part about having these headaches. Normally, Izuku was a lover of all things physical touch. Need a hug? Izuku's arms were wide open. Wanted to cuddle? Izuku was already on the couch with a blanket. But once someone touched him while he had a headache, kami, it was the worst.
He couldn't really explain it. Something about the additional body heat, something about feeling smothered and too warm when someone was touching him when he had a migraine sent his skin crawling. Somehow it also made him more nauseous. His mother had cried endlessly over that fact. The first time he'd gotten a migraine she truly believed he was dying, and suddenly holding him only made everything worse? There were many, many tears that night.
But his bed had never felt so far away, and even though he'd taken some ibuprofen it likely wouldn't kick in for another twenty minutes at the earliest. "M'hand. Pull m'up?" Izuku mumbled, offering his hand to his friend.
Kacchan's calloused yet soft palm wrapped around Izuku's shaking hand and quickly pulled him up, careful not to send him completely off balance. He moved as quickly as he dared, gently shuffling Izuku towards his bed. Izuku's face was one of pain and discomfort as unnatural heat wrapped itself around him like some thick quilt. It was awful. Tears prickled at the edge of his eyes. His head was a dick.
By the time he reached his bed, he had never appreciated his mattress more. He was far more appreciative of Kacchan letting go of his hand to readjust the damp towel on his neck now that he was lying down. But he wouldn't tell him that. Kami, he just wanted to sleep. His eyes pulsed in rebellion.
"Do you need your music?" Kacchan mumbled quietly as the mattress dipped somewhere above his head. With his eyes screwed shut he slowly rocked his head in a 'yes' motion. Kacchan huffed a laugh when he opened his phone. "You still have my fingerprint in this thing?" Izuku could hear the gentle tapping on the screen before soft music wrapped around the room. Izuku sighed contentedly.
He could finally sleep.
"I'm leaving, Nerd. Sleep. I'll check on you after class." Kacchan muttered as he left the room, gently closing the door behind him on his way out, but Izuku was already halfway into sleep by the time his friend made it to the door.