It was in the middle of math class when something normal and insignificant sealed Izuku's fate. The teacher was writing out an algorithm on the blackboard when his chalk broke into three tiny peices, rendering it useless.
"Ah, shoot. Midoriya, could you go and get some more chalk from the supply closet? That was my last peice."
"O-of course!" Izuku stuttered as he stood up from his desk. He quickly made his way to the door and navigated through the hallways in pursuit of the supply closet. Once he found it, he opened the door and felt around inside for a lightswitch. Strangely, it was nowhere to be found. He crept carefully into the dark closet, extending his arms to search for the shelves.
The moment he stepped all the way in, the door slammed shut behind him. He yelped in surprise, jumping a bit and whipping his head around to look at the door. At least, he was pretty sure he was looking at the door; he couldn't see anything. Reaching out to where he suspected the door handle was, he confirmed his guess to be true. His hand found the doorknob, and he tried to open the door, but something was holding it closed.
He heard a crackle, and then a loud bang. Suddenly, his feet parted company with the floor, and he found himself crashing into some shelves and onto the floor. The hard concrete knocked the wind out of him.
"Learn your place, shitnerd," A gruff voice told him. The attacker then swung the door open with ease, locked it, exited, then closed it again. He immediately recognized the attacker as his childhood friend and worst bully, Katsuki Bakugou.
Izuku finally managed to suck some air into his lungs, and went to stand up. His head bumped the bottom of a shelf, and the whole shelf slid out of place, many heavy boxes falling onto him and pinning him to the ground. Lots and lots of papers began to fall out of the boxes, surrounding his face and making it harder and harder to breathe. His arms were stuck under boxes at odd angles, and he was unable to lift them.
He tried to call out, but it seemed that whatever air had managed to enter his lungs was not enough; there was nothing left, it seemed, and nothing to breathe in.
He began to panic, but slowly, his panic dissolved. He felt tired and sleepy. He just wanted to lay there forever. Funny - maybe he could. It's not like anyone would find him.
The world seemed to be dulling; the idea of calling for help seemed so far away now, like a distant memory of a dream he once had. It didn't seem to make any sense; any idea of somehow getting out of this felt unreasonable. The thought that had taken up all of his mind as conciousness slipped away from him was the fact that he hadn't said goodbye to Inko that morning. He had been wrong - he wasn't going to see her later.
He wasn't going to see her ever again.