Reality's Crushing Verdict
The back door of the classroom slid open with a sharp rattle—everyone in the class snapped their heads toward it. I was right there with them. It was exactly 23 minutes into second period, and someone slipping in through the back door at this hour wasn't exactly common.
But the whole class, myself included, had a pretty good idea who it was. Midoriya Izuku, whose seat had been empty from roll call right up until now. The kid who'd never been late once in his life was finally stumbling in.
The others confirmed it was him and lost interest fast, turning back to whatever had caught their eye before. But I couldn't tear my gaze away from Midoriya.
He'd met his idol, All Might, in person yesterday. Up until then, his face had been lit up with a smile like he'd conquered the world. But the Midoriya I was seeing now was the total opposite. His eyes were lifeless, staring blankly into space, shoulders completely slack, steps stumbling like a zombie.
Even the math teacher was thrown off by his weird behavior and asked cautiously, "Midoriya? You okay?"
"...Yeah."
"Uh—anyway, class is in session, so take your seat quick and open your textbook. Page 14."
Midoriya plopped down wordlessly, pulled his textbook from his bag, set it on his desk, and flipped it open. That was it. Normally, he'd whip out his pens and notebook, scribbling furiously like always. But now? He had the book upside down and was just staring off into empty air.
Watching him like that hit me like a shock to the brain. I'd never seen Midoriya act half-out-of-it like this in my entire life.
What's suddenly gotten into him? Did he stay up all night buzzing from meeting All Might, still half-asleep? Nah, no way. Even if he pulled an all-nighter, the guy wouldn't drop dead until his body gave out—he'd push himself mercilessly through anything.
Did Bakugo bully him extra hard and send him into depression? Ridiculous. Bakugo had picked on him over a hundred times that I knew of, and he'd always toughed it out. No way he'd crumble overnight.
"Sakatsuki!"
The teacher barked at me. "Yes?"
"What do you think about problem 6? You've been staring at Midoriya—what's on your mind?"
"Ah, sorry." I rattled off the solution to problem 6 in a rush and snuck a glance at Midoriya. He was still blankly staring into nothing. He hadn't even registered the teacher calling me out for watching him—no glance my way at all.
Something was seriously wrong with him. But me marching over and demanding what happened would look even weirder. So I tried ignoring him like always. It'd never been an issue before; his freakout didn't affect my life anyway. I tried scrubbing him from my mind.
But today, it just wouldn't stick. All morning, he spaced out or face-planted on his desk, ignoring class entirely. At lunch, he didn't even touch his bento, just stared out the window without eating. The weirdness dragged into the afternoon. He sat there like a criminal with his head bowed, isolating himself, no chit-chat with anyone.
And it kept nagging at me. Not worry, exactly. Just... something familiar about him. That total detachment, the solitary vibe—it mirrored my own pattern perfectly. Seeing Midoriya of all people acting like me? It choked me up, sparked this inexplicable irritation.
I barely focused on classes all day, just waiting for the bell. I wanted to grab him right then and demand why he was like this today—what the hell happened.
But the second the dismissal bell rang—ding-dong-dang—someone beat me to it.
"Hey, Deku."
Bakugo Katsuki spat it out amid the scramble to pack up and bolt. The whole class froze, holding their breath. But not Midoriya. No flinch at "Deku," no glance at Bakugo. If anything, Bakugo's face twitched.
"Ignoring me, you nerd?"
"..."
"Backyard. Now. Got something to say."
Bakugo stormed out. Midoriya grabbed his bag silently and followed.
Once they were gone, silence hung heavy. Ten seconds later, it shattered—the class erupted in whispers.
"What was that? They heading out to fight?"
"Bakugo looked extra pissed today. Midoriya might not show up tomorrow."
"No, but seriously, what's up with Midoriya? He's been zoning out all day."
Most muttered worries about Midoriya, debating if they should stop Bakugo. A few snickered about him getting wrecked. The vibe had been intense—Bakugo's usual explosive rage replaced by this crushing pressure. Everyone felt it: he was glaring at Midoriya like he wanted to kill him.
I'd seen that look on Bakugo exactly once before. Back when we were kids—an incident I caused, a total disaster. Quirkless Midoriya, prodigy Bakugo, and me, always hating on both. I'd nearly killed Bakugo then. Midoriya saved him like always. Bakugo had that same face toward me.
Now he was turning it on Midoriya.
I bolted from the classroom, sprinting to the school backyard. I knew I couldn't stop Bakugo or change anything, but my body moved anyway. Guilt dragged me there, even knowing I was powerless.
The moment I arrived—BAM!!!!
···An explosion echoed.
Bakugo had Midoriya pinned against the wall. Fresh scorch marks smoked from his hands, the wall cracked. But Midoriya's eyes held no fear—no trembling, no panic, breathing steady.
Bakugo still menaced him with tiny blasts in his palm. He growled, "What the hell are you? Why've you been acting like that all day?"
"...Why so worked up, Kacchan? You almost wrecked school property."
"Shut up and answer. You always flail around at everything, cower from me—and now you're pulling the same crap as that bastard?"
"Talking about Mitchan?"
"Mitchan? You still calling that murderer by a nickname? 'Cause he's your 'friend'? Then quit with 'Kacchan' for me, you accomplice."
"...Still hung up on that? I told you before, Mitchan didn't mean—"
"Ha—you've turned just like him, huh? Then don't even bother applying to U.A. High School. No—don't become a hero at all!!! What makes a loser like you think you can be a hero? You really believe you've got what it takes?!"
"..."
Silence fell. Bakugo's tirade and pressure were so intense even I hesitated to step in. But the one shaking most was Bakugo. His loud yells trembled; his ragged breaths sounded almost choked.
Midoriya? Calm. Or resigned. He fired back, "I think I don't have what it takes to be a hero."
"...What?"
"So this morning, I went to the staff room and told our homeroom teacher. I'm not applying to U.A. Not the Hero Course—the regular one. Kacchan—er, Bakugo, you're right. Maybe I'm just not cut out for heroes. A Quirkless guy dreaming of it was crazy from the start. Ahaha—"
"Bullshit, you bastard!!!!!"
Bakugo swung a fist straight at Midoriya's face—
I grabbed it mid-air. Grip.
"?!"
"Mi—Mitchan?"
···Bakugo's glare burned. Even without eye contact, his fury exploded in tiny pops between our hands.
I didn't let go. If I did now, it'd all be over for good. Our trio, my life—everything.
"...Fuck."
Bakugo yanked free, stalking off with a mutter. "Birds of a feather, huh? What a clusterfuck."
A tiny voice, but aimed straight at us. Didn't matter. The green, curly-headed mess in front of me was priority.
I didn't know why the guy beaming over All Might yesterday had shattered like this. What broke him? I didn't know this Midoriya Izuku.
So I asked. "Izuku."
"...Huh?"
"What's wrong with you? This isn't you. Not the hero I knew."
Midoriya's face hardened—the first expression change all day. But it didn't make me happy. It pissed me off. He dropped his gaze, like he knew, and whispered, "Remember yesterday? When I chased after All Might, grabbing his leg? I had something real to ask him. So I just went for it. 'Can someone without a Quirk become a hero? Can a Quirkless person become someone like you?'"
Chills raced over me. He'd asked All Might the exact question burning in me—the dream of smashing my Quirkless reality.
His state told me the answer already. But hearing it terrified me. Tears welled as he met my eyes. My childhood hero, Izuku, crumbling before me.
"All Might said... you have to face the 'reality' that suits you."
"..."
Long silence stretched. Endless, dark as the future. Neither of us broke it easily. All Might's death sentence for Izuku was mine too.
Our situations differed fundamentally. But the outcome? Same.
Again, I felt that kinship with him.
'Midoriya's kinda weird, right?'
'He's got mental issues. Can't face reality, just a daydreaming idiot.'
'A Quirkless loser like you thinks you belong on my level?!'
'Aren't you running from reality—the one denying your dreams?'
All the same. I'd thought we were crushed by different weights. But Izuku carried the same wounds.
I handed him his notebook from my bag. "Hey, Izuku. Screw all that... What if we just apply to U.A. entrance exams anyway?"
"...Huh?"
He stared like I'd lost it. Hell, maybe I had. But I knew what I meant.
"I told you yesterday. We'll fail miserably. I know it's impossible for me, for you too. So why not together? And if we flop U.A., we just—"
"Hey, Michito."
A familiar gruff voice from behind. I turned—my father stood there.
"Mi—Mitchan's dad?"
"What're you two doing? Thought you weren't friends."
"Ah, well—Mitchan had something to talk about, so I called him to the backyard."
Midoriya covered for me with another lame lie. Dad stared him down silently, like he'd seen through it. Then, heading out, "You gotta go to the police station, right? Car's here—hop in. You too, Midoriya."
"Me? Why?"
"Cops called. You need to give a statement too. No arguments—come on."