After leaving the doctor's office, Izuku walked the familiar halls of U.A. with a heavy heart. The weight of his diagnosis pressed down on him, the reality of it all settling deep into his soul. Each step felt labored. The walk felt like an eternity. He was lost in his mind, spiraling. He managed to do some research on his condition on the train ride home. It was fatal. He was going to die.
He couldn't help but catch the smiles of his classmates as he walked into the room. It hurt knowing that he had the power to shatter them.
That one wrong move and the smiles would disappear and he would be left with... well Izuku didn't know exactly what would happen but he imagined they would be looks of pity or disgust. That's how people usually reacted to his pain after all. In middle school, it was either pitying looks at his black eyes and broken bones or disgust at his utter uselessness, mixed with occasional glares of anger at his continued existence.
He wanted to believe they would care but care somehow hurt worse. He remembered what care looked like. It hadn't been that long ago that he had his mother's worried looks and helpless sobs. He had felt the same way when she was sick. He remembered what it was like to watch her slow decline. To watch her die a slow painful death. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy, but doing that to his friends?
He couldn't do it. He couldn't face them like this. The thought of them finding out was making him physically sick. Based on the worried looks of his peers he must have looked pretty sick too. He decided to use this to his advantage. He went to ask Aizawa to excuse him for a bit, but Aizawa noticed before he even spoke.
"Midoriya, are you alright? You look a bit sick"
Izuku tried to speak but the words were caught in his throat. He just shook his head.
"I'm sending you to Recovery Girl. Do you need someone to accompany you to her office?"
He shook his head again, unable to form the words, tears threatening to spill from his glazed-over eyes.
"Ok. You're excused for the rest of the day. Just go get checked out then get some rest. You look like you need it."
Midoriya nodded gratefully then stumbled out of the classroom and into the hall.
He didn't go to recovery girl. Instead, he ducked into the nearest bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls.
The weight of the world crashed down on him, and he crumpled to the ground, body shaking with suppressed sobs. The anguish he had held inside burst forth like a flood, shoulders heaving with each tearful gasp. He mourned the life he had envisioned, dreams now tainted by an unforgiving reality.
"Why... why does it have to be like this?" he whispered through choked sobs. "I wanted to be a hero, to save others... but now I can't even save myself."
His hope flickered in the wind. Fear threatened to consume him, and all he wanted to do was to let someone pull him out of the cold and shield him from the storm. But the faces of his friends flashed through his mind, their unconditional support, their stubborn belief in him. "How can I face them knowing what I know? How can I watch them suffer because of me?"
He couldn't bring himself to tarnish their hopes and dreams with the harsh reality he faced.
Then there was Kacchan. Kacchan was like a brother to him. They had spent their whole lives together. How would he take this? They had just mended their friendship too. How cruel is fate that the second he was given a chance to make amends it was taken away?
Through his tears, Izuku forced himself to his feet. He drew a shaky breath, determined to face his inevitable doom alone. He forced a mask of determination back on his face, concealing the cracks in his heart.
"I have to protect them," Izuku whispered to himself, "I won't let them be brought down because of me."
He rinsed away his tears with a splash of cool water as he stared back at his reflection. "I'll continue to fight for them. I'll smile through the pain. I won't let them down."
Izuku hesitated at Recovery Girl's door, his knuckles rapping lightly against the wood. Swallowing hard, he entered the room, greeted by the familiar scent of antiseptic. The small space felt suffocating, the air thick with the tension of the confession he was about to make.
"Hello? Oh, it's you. What did you break this time, dear?" Recovery Girl looked up from her desk, peering at Izuku over the rim of her glasses.
He managed a weak smile, "Actually, I didn't break anything this time."
The nurse raised an eyebrow, curiosity etched across her face. "Then what's the matter?"
"I... I have something I need to share with you, but you have to promise you won't tell anyone, not even All Might."
Recovery Girl's expression shifted from curiosity to concern, her features softening. "Oh dear! Is it that serious?"
Unable to meet her gaze, Izuku nodded, tears tracing down his cheeks. "If you insist I won't tell. As a medical professional, your personal information is yours alone, and I can't share it without your consent."
Thanking her silently, Izuku struggled to find the words. His breath caught, and his hands trembled. Taking out his phone, he opened his search history and showed her the page.
'Quirkinduced Cellular Dystrophy: a condition that occurs when a powerful quirk interacts with a person's genetic makeup in a specific way. It triggers a rapid deterioration of the body's cells, leading to a progressive loss of bodily functions over an extended period resulting in death.'
"Izuku, sweetheart, this is serious. Are you sure?" Recovery Girl's voice held a mixture of empathy and worry.
"I went to a specialist. I've been trying to figure it out for a while now. It hurts. It hurts so much. Every time I use my quirk, it's like I can feel it tearing me apart."
Her eyes widened, realization dawning on her. "Izuku..."
"I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die without ever achieving my dream, and if anyone finds out, I'll die alone—the same useless Deku I was before."
"That's not true," she protested, her voice gentle.
"But it could be. If All Might finds out, he'll take the quirk back. I'll be quirkless again. Everyone will leave... I'll be all alone. Please, please don't tell him."
Recovery Girl, moved by Izuku's desperation, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I won't, dear. I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. But you should at least tell Aizawa. You know he'll understand, and it'll make things so much easier for you."
Tears streamed down Izuku's face as he shook his head. "No! He'll expel me! I can't. I know he'll find out eventually, but please, please let me play pretend just a little longer. I know it's pointless, but I don't want to give up yet. I want things to stay the same as long as possible. Please, I'm begging you."
Izuku collapsed to his hands and knees, sobbing in front of Recovery Girl, his vulnerability laid bare.
Recovery Girl sighed, her gaze softening with a mix of sympathy and understanding. "I won't, but I can't stop them from finding out on their own."
As Izuku continued to sob, she gently patted his back, providing a small measure of comfort. "Izuku, sometimes facing the truth is the first step to finding a solution. Keeping it hidden won't change the outcome, and it might only make things harder for you in the long run."
Despite her words, Izuku clung to the fleeting illusion of normalcy. The room's harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his tear-streaked face as he struggled to compose himself.
Recovery Girl sighed more, then reached for a tissue box on her desk. She handed him a tissue, offering a semblance of support. "Take your time, dear. When you're ready, we can discuss what steps we can take to manage this, together."
Sniffling, Izuku nodded, accepting the tissue with a mumbled: "Thank you." He slowly regained his composure, wiping away the tears and steadying his breathing.
After a moment, he stood up, his eyes still red but determination burning within. "I'll... I'll think about it. Thank you for listening, Recovery Girl."
The nurse nodded her expression a mix of concern and encouragement. "Remember, you don't have to face this alone. There are people here that care about you and want to help. Don't forget that."
With a last nod of appreciation, Izuku left Recovery Girl's office, the weight on his shoulders still heavy, but now accompanied by a glimmer of hope. As he walked back into the world outside, he couldn't shake the fear of what lay ahead, but at least he knew he didn't have to face it all alone.