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“What is your greatest fear?”
The class had been told this morning that during third year for the hero course, UA brought in a specialist with a form of a truth quirk - one that could replicate and make real your greatest fear. Every hero student was supposed to face their greatest fear. It was preparation, or perhaps precaution. If they couldn’t face their fear now, before they graduated, then if they ran into it as pro heroes, they’d likely crumple.
Well, that’s what Izuku took away from the message, anyway.
He knew they were only trying to help their students by preventing them from going out there and being pro heroes without having at least one chance to face their fears before it became a matter of life or death on some battlefield. Izuku wasn’t all that sure this was a good idea. After all, they’d pretty much faced their fears at Kamino and Hosu, and even though they managed to avoid an all out war, the Gunga-villa battle had taken a lot from all of them. It was sheer luck they captured the League before they could summon Gigantomachia from his sleep.
Izuku couldn’t imagine his classmates having fears after a fight like that. Certainly nothing so plain as spiders or heights, right? Those all seemed so silly in comparison to what they’d already faced as teens. But maybe they now had other worries…death, dismemberment, maybe even losing their quirks. Fears were simple and finite when one is a child, because our world is small, simple and finite. But the more we experience and learn, the broader our mind becomes, and the more expansive our fears.
Or maybe he was overthinking things.
“I want everyone to think of what scares you most. It could be anything, and you might even be downplaying it in your mind right now. The darkness at the bottom of the stairs at night, creepy crawly bugs, snakes, heights, clowns. Mine is always this one specific corner in my childhood home, I swore there was something living in that corner. Anyway.” The specialist (Izuku didn’t catch his name) waved a hand to dismiss his rant. “When you walk up to the door, think of it. When you open the door, you will have to face whatever is behind it. We’ll all be supporting you.”
A few students shared uncertain looks.
“When you face it, you must keep your eyes open for ten seconds. When it’s done, you close the door, and I promise you will feel relief.”
But that was too simple, too easy. Izuku knew better. Because this wasn’t the first time someone had promised him things would be over soon. This wasn’t the first time someone asked him to just closeopen his eyes and-
“Now, who’d like to go first?”
Rather unsurprisingly, no one volunteered right away. Class A remained silent and stoic. Izuku had never seen some of his classmates this quiet. After their second year and all the fighting…many of them had lost their energy, but they were never this grave. Perhaps everyone was scared to face their fears, or maybe they didn’t know their own greatest fears. Maybe they were trying to figure out what would be behind that door. It was only a closet in their classroom, but Izuku had imagined that this specialist could activate his quirk on any door to an enclosed room. For some reason, he believed that closet might be avoided for the rest of the year, after today.
Katsuki stood up. “Fuck it. Let’s get this over with.”
Katsuki turned as he got out of his chair, his eyes locking with Izuku for far too long. They both knew what Katsuki would see, and they both knew what Izuku would see. Neither option was good, but Katsuki’s could be explained away, if it came out in the quirk the right way. There were a few variations Izuku could think up on the fly that might appear.
‘Good luck.’ Izuku mouthed silently. Katsuki sighed as he moved to the back of the classroom. Every chair in the room creaked as they all turned to face the closet and track Katsuki’s movement through the desks. It took only a few seconds for him to reach the door and grab the handle. Izuku imagined he was begging the universe to be kind to him, to Izuku, that is. Katsuki didn’t care what this would do to him, he only cared that this might hurt Izuku. That one look over their desks said everything.
The door opened. No one breathed. Izuku forced his eyes to remain open.
Behind the door stood only a lone gravestone, entirely out of place in a classroom closet. It was tall, square, and freshly carved, glowing in a light that didn’t come from the single dead bulb in the ceiling. The inscription read only “Izuku Midoriya” as the namesake of that stone knew it would. Katsuki’s frail gasp was what shifted the room. A few hands went to their mouths, Ochako held back tears, and Dark Shadow whimpered quietly behind Tokoyami.
A few classmates looked at Izuku, startled or worried by what they saw. They all turned back when they were met with Izuku’s blank face. He assumed they thought he was trying to be nonchalant. In actuality, Izuku was desperately trying to hold his fragile sanity together by singular threads in both hands. He was not doing well. They lucked out, this could be explained away as a fear of losing a friend to the almost war. How long would that luck last?
Katsuki counted to ten with a breathy voice. He closed the door the very second the last syllable left his tongue, and the imaginary light went out behind it. The door was once more nothing but a flat plane of wood, unsuspecting and unassuming. The door was harmless. It wasn’t the door that could hurt them.
No one was afraid of a door. A door couldn’t hurt you. The door only hid what could hurt you behind it. Perhaps that made the door something scary, like an accessory to a crime of some sort.
When Katsuki sat back down, he stared at Izuku, his eyes clear and…he looked relieved. Did the quirk truly make you feel better for having faced your fears?
“Kacchan?” He dared whisper the word, keeping his voice low as one of their classmates found the courage to get up and take their turn.
“I’m fine. I’m…I feel better. I really do feel better. That’s fucking weird.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Are you gonna…”
Izuku shrugged. “I have to.”
“I guess so.”
This was not a voluntary activity. Aizawa made it clear this was required of the hero students. Izuku wondered if he could say something, if he could clarify that there were deep traumas that Izuku did not want to relive, that maybe that would be enough to get him out of this activity. But why would that work? It’d never worked before. Izuku had never been offered grace or reprieve just because of his own weaknesses. No, there was no point in trying. One glance at his rival beside him said Katsuki was thinking exactly the same thing.
Izuku thought about going last, but it occurred to him that if he did, he’d have to wait for everyone else to go, and the anticipation of his coming horror honestly made him want to vomit. Four students went after Katsuki - Mina, Ochako, Tokoyami, and Iida. They all had versions of simple fears or general anxieties over the war they almost avoided. It wasn’t grand or awe-inspiring. In fact, Izuku almost wondered if their fears had been boiled down thanks to the horrors they’d experienced fighting villains way too soon. Maybe. But they each took their turn at the door with the bravery of a hero. Izuku wasn’t so sure he’d be able to do the same.
The thing is, Izuku’s greatest fear wasn’t simple, or easy. It couldn’t be wrapped in a neat little package like darkness or bugs. Izuku wasn’t afraid of dying, and he honestly wasn’t scared of losing his friends, either. Death was not a new or mysterious concept for him. Izuku had been beaten, bruised and bloody, all his life.
He’d learned very early in life that death was very far from the worst thing that could happen to a person.
The specialist stood by the door, a pleasant smile on his face. He was clearly trying to assuage the nerves of the students as they came up to put on brave faces and take on their fears. Izuku didn’t wear a brave face. He wore the only face that had ever helped him; a mask of indifference.
“It’s alright, son. I’m sure the monster under your bed isn’t any worse than anyone else’s. Go on, it’s only ten seconds.”
“I beg to differ.” He muttered, mostly to himself. Then, a bit louder - “Ten seconds can be an eternity.”
That threw the specialist off his chipperness, but he didn’t prevent Izuku from stepping up to the closet. The guy might have thrown a slightly worried glance at Aizawa at the head of the room, but neither man said anything. Izuku grabbed the doorhandle. Every nerve ending in his body came alive. Fire twisted down his right arm. It wasn’t real, but he still felt it digging into his skin. Izuku’s greatest fear wasn’t a thing. It wasn’t a place, or an idea or a concept. Izuku’s greatest fear was not a what, it was a who.
The second Izuku turned the handle, the door burst outward with a gust of flames, embers that Izuku could still smell singing his hair and clothes. The harsh cut of ash and soot stung his tongue. Black suede business shoes stood before him, suit pants pressed so neatly it was almost impossible shifted as the man inside them leaned his weight onto his right leg. Izuku could hear his own breath struggling out of his lungs.
The poor specialist stepped back. “What- what th-”
“Look at me, boy!” Izuku flinched away from his father’s voice, his left cheek offered in sacrifice to the coming weight of the hand Izuku expected to hit him. “Look. At. ME.”
Ten seconds. That’s all. He just had to look for ten seconds.
Aizawa appeared beside him, a hand on the door and a vicious look on his face. But the door wouldn’t move. The specialist had stumbled back and hit the wall. The whole class was in an uproar. Izuku couldn't hear his classmates' voices behind him. Several had piled up behind their teacher to shut the door. Katsuki was at his right, he’d taken Izuku’s hand. All he heard was the hissing pull of his father’s breath, readying for another round of dragon’s breath.
“No.” He gasped. “Not anymore. Not to them.” Izuku’s eyes snapped up to meet Hisashi Midoriya, his father. The figure paused, frozen in time while Izuku stared him down.
One
Two
He could see the classroom out of the corner of his eyes. Fire had begun leaking around the edges of the closet, his teacher and the specialist were still trying to close the door. Katsuki had wrapped himself around Izuku’s shoulders, his face turned away from the tunneled fount of flames Hisashi had aimed directly at them.
Three
Four
The nightmares came flooding back to him. Hisashi’s hands, boiling lava plates, pinned him to the ground as he screamed over Izuku’s face. The handprint his father left on his left shoulder came alive with the richly acrid scent of burning flesh filling Izuku’s nose. The burn of tears drew lines down his face.
Five
Six
Katsuki had saved him that day. He’d broken through the door when he heard Izuku screaming. They were supposed to go to the park that day. Katsuki had walked down the street like always. He’d knocked, but no one answered. Then screams, fire, pain. The blonde still had a burn scar hidden under his hairline from where Hisashi had tried to burn his face off after the smaller teen had knocked him away from Izuku with an explosion. Katsuki saved Izuku’s life - he was trying to do so again.
Katsuki’s right side had wrapped itself around Izuku like a shield, his face turned away, likely a habit to protect his face after the last time he nearly lost it. His body moved on its own, just like it always did when Izuku was in trouble. Maybe Izuku walked up to this door knowing that no matter what happened, Katsuki would keep him safe.
Seven
Eight
Nine
Breathe returned first. Izuku finally exhaled a gust of hot air. Katsuki’s arms tightened around his body. Flames rushed by the left side of his head just as his body moved out of the way in slow motion.
Ten
The door slammed shut with a violent clack. Time moved. Izuku choked back to reality as his body got pulled to the side by Katsuki, the flames dissipating as the echo of the door finally struck Izuku’s ears.
“-okay?” Katsuki’s voice finally registered. “Izuku! Can you hear me?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head. “No.”
When he finally looked up, Izuku found the room had emptied out but for Katsuki and Aizawa. The teacher stood with his back on the closet door, arms crossed and an unreadable look on his face. He waited for Izuku to get his bearings before crouching down beside his students.
“Why didn’t you talk to me before going up to the door?”
“Huh?” Izuku rubbed a hand over his face, wiping off some soot from the close range shot they almost took. “What would that have done?”
“Midoriya, I would never have let you walk up to that door if I knew your fear was someone who could hurt you, someone who had already hurt you.” He paused. “He did, didn’t he? Your father. He hurt you.”
“He hurt us both.” Katsuki groused. “The last time- I stopped him from killing Izuku. Fucking asshole came damn close.”
“It’s fine, Sensei. We’re used to dealing with our own problems.”
“Boys, there is absolutely no reason anyone should make you endure that kind of…” He sighed, clearly understanding something that hadn’t been said. “You’ve never had a teacher that actually listened and helped, have you?” They both shook their heads no. “Is he still a part of your life?”
“No, Sensei.” Izuku wrapped his arms around himself. “He was arrested the day Kacchan saved me. He’s been in and out of jail on various charges. Mom got us restraining orders. He hasn’t been back since then.”
“Okay. Good. That’s good. Bakugo, can you look after him for a minute? Nedzu’s here.”
“Yeah, I got him.” Katsuki moved around Izuku and held him, both hands on his arms. “I know you’re not okay right now, and you don’t have to be.”
“Kacchan…”
“No, hear me out, please.”
“Okay.”
Katsuki tried to smile. “I will always be here to save you. He will never hurt you again.”
“I know.” But the words sort of gasped themselves from his lungs. They didn’t come out believable. Izuku didn’t believe them. He knew Katsuki would always come to his rescue, but he didn’t believe that Hisashi wouldn’t hurt him again. Even after all these years, even though Izuku was a trained hero about to graduate, he became nothing more than a limp branch in the wind when his father appeared.
“You did it, Izuku.”
“Huh?”
“You faced him. You looked at him for ten seconds, you beat your fear.”
If that were true, he wouldn’t feel shaken or dizzy. He wouldn’t have this vile taste in the back of his throat and a volcano trapped behind his heart. He should feel relieved like the rest of the students that got to face their fears.
Instead, all Izuku felt was fear.
“I didn’t beat anything, Kacchan.”