Tldr: Third year izuku gets sent back in time and helps his younger 13 y/o self

—

I knew the time was coming soon when I looked in the mirror, and all of a sudden recognized myself, not as myself, but as a different me I had seen years before. Despite that, I didn’t go looking for it. I knew it would find me when it was time.

As weeks passed, I began getting antsy, worrying that I had missed it. Maybe I took one wrong turn, left three minutes too early or three minutes too late, causing a butterfly effect, and fully missed the moment I had to be there for. But, I hadn’t missed it. Thank god.

—

I was walking to the convenience store to grab snacks for class 3-A’s weekly movie nights. It was Shoji’s turn to choose, and we were watching ‘Blade Runner’. I grabbed gummy bears for Eijiro, spicy takis for Katsuku, Chex Mex for Mina, and various assorted cans of Pringles. As I was making my way back to the dorms, I noticed some strange shadow, following behind me, and began walking faster, preparing to fight if I needed to. It was dark out, already half an hour past sunset, and I was beginning to regret waiting so long to go out and get snacks. 

In a matter of seconds, the shadow went from 15 feet behind me to just inches. With a simple tap on my shoulder, everything went bright and blurry. It was like my brain was staying in one spot, and my whole body was spinning in circles around it.

—

When my feet reached the ground again and I was able to open my eyes, it was lighter outside. It looked to be around half an hour to sunset rather than the previous half-hour past sunset. I was still holding the plastic bags of snacks, and still stood in the same spot, but things were different. The bushes along the side of the street were smaller and less overgrown, and there was a pothole just ahead of me that I didn’t remember being there before. Looking back at the convenience store, the sign was different: it was the old sign, one I remembered from my younger years. Then, it clicked. It was time.

I took off running, towards my home. If I was right, Mom would still be at work, and she would never even find out about this. When I reached my house - my old house - it was rather nostalgic. I hadn’t imagined seeing it again, or at least not as it was now, with my own welcome mat sitting in front of the door. 

I already knew nobody would answer if I knocked or rang the doorbell, so instead, I reached into the mailbox, pulled out an Allmight themed key, and let myself into the house. It was dark inside, despite the sun not quite having set yet. I was hesitant as I made my way to the bathroom. How was I supposed to explain my being here? I had managed it before - sort of - but that didn’t make it any easier or any less nerve wrecking. 

I brought a shaky hand up to the door and forced myself to knock. “Don’t freak out,” I said, as I heard a scared squeak come from inside the bathroom. “I’m here to help.”

“Who- who are you?” a small voice stuttered out from inside the bathroom. 

“Can you open the door please?” I asked, avoiding the question. The door creaked open in response, and I couldn’t help but think to myself what a dumb decision that was. Anyone with common sense wouldn’t thrush someone who just appeared in their house saying they were there to help. 

My breath hitched in my throat as I saw the young boy, huddled in the corner of my bathroom. It was strange, seeing his freckles, his large green eyes, his giant mop of curly green hair. My eyes involuntarily floated lower, to where his arms were clenched to his chest, and blood was splattered over his clothes. 

“Why… Who?” the younger me stuttered out. “Are we brothers or something? Am I not an only child?”

It took me a moment to respond. Everything - the state he was in, the blood - looked so much worse than I remembered. I finally was able to shake my head and say, “How about I- How about I explain while we get you cleaned up?” Young Izuku didn’t respond, so I set the bag I was still holding on the floor, took a step forward and crouched on the floor in front of him. “I’m Izuku Midoriya,” I said, nearly chuckling at the look of confusion that crossed his face. “I’m in my third year in highschool now. I was out, and got hit by a quirk that sent me back in time.” Izuku’s eyes were wide as saucers. 

“Why are you here?” His voice was meek, and I could barely even hear him. I’d forgotten how quiet I used to be when I got stressed out. 

“I’m here to help you. Nearly five years ago now, I was exactly where you are, and this same thing happened.” I could tell he was still in shock - I was in a way too, but I knew there were things I had to do. I grabbed the first towel in sight, and held it out. “If you won’t let me, I need you to hold this onto your arms,” I said, and thankfully he complied, taking the towel from my grasp with his shaking hands. I felt frozen, but then realized something from that night had slipped my mind. “Did you take any pills?” I asked, in a sudden panic. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten. What if I’d taken too long to notice, and it was too late?

“How’d you know?” he whispered. He seemed to be swaying, as if he was dizzy, and I knew that couldn’t be a good sign. 

“I did too. Come on, we need to get you water,” I said. My movements were slow, to not freak him out, but urgent, as I picked him up and carried him to the kitchen. He was hesitant and tense at first, but as I quickly made my way down the hall, I could feel him succumb to exhaustion, and slump his head onto my shoulder. 

When we reached the kitchen, I set him in a chair at the table and searched frantically through the cabinets for baking soda. Until now, I had forgotten many things about my childhood home. As I searched through the cabinets, I was surprised to see that they were like that of a divorced bachelor father, with practically nothing but condiments and a stale half-eaten bag of cheetos in them. When I finally found it, I mixed a spoonful into a glass of water, and returned to where my younger self sat. 

“I need you to drink this for me. It tastes gross, but it’s not so bad if you chug it,” I said. He was silent as he took the cup from my hands, but he drank the whole cup in one go. I ran to grab the trash can, glad that it was empty, and returned to crouching in front of Izuku.

“I feel like imma puke,” he mumbled. 

“That’s good,” I responded, holding up the trash can for him. “We need to get the medicine out of your system.” I turn away as I hear him begin to gag - I had always hated anytime I puked in front of people, and I wanted to do anything I could to make this suck a bit less for young me. 

I got him a glass of cold water, which he seemed pretty glad for once he was done, but he still barely spoke. 

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked. He just shrugged. “Let’s get your arms wrapped up, then we can get some rest, or whatever you want. Sound okay?” He nodded. “Can you walk?”

He nodded, but then I heard his timid voice again. “Don’t want to though,” he mumbled. 

I nodded in understanding, picking him up to carry back to the bathroom. Again, his head fell onto my shoulder, but this time he seemed a bit less delirious which I was thankful for. The towel was sticky with blood, and tried clinging to his skin when I pulled it away which must’ve hurt, but the bleeding had thankfully stopped. I wiped the remaining blood away with a washcloth soaked in cool water. I still remembered where I stored the medical supplies exactly for situations like these, hidden under the sink, even if I had rarely used them. This was a once in a lifetime situation, but it made me incredibly grateful for the medical care classes we took at UA, or else I would’ve had no clue how to properly dress his wounds. 

I could see his eyes following my own bare arms as I placed the butterfly tape, and I could see the curiosity in his eyes, but he still seemed hesitant to ask me anything.

“You can ask if you want,” I said, encouraging him to speak up. 

“You don’t do this anymore?” he said. There was wonder in his voice as he realized that I had been wearing short sleeves in public. 

“I have bad days, and I have had relapses, but no, I’m doing a lot better.” I secured the end of the gauze bandages on each of his arms, and picked him up, carrying him to the living room sofa. 

“What are all… those scars from?” I could tell he was referring to the large patch of scar tissue on my bicep, and littered marks on my hands and forearms, evidently not from self-harm.

“Well, Izuku… future you isn’t quirkless,” I began saying. 

“I’m not? How?” he yelled back.

“You can think of it as… a late manifestation. You’ll learn more when you’re supposed to.”

“So they’re from fights with villains then?” He asked excitedly. 

“One or two, sure… But, your quirk… It doesn’t always fit your body right. Most of these,” My fingertips skimmed over the thick scarring on my arms, ''are from your own quirk.”

“Is it worth it?”

“I think so. My mentor… Should have done better with many things involving my quirk, but there are so many things I have now that I wouldn’t without it.” Izuku was intently listening, nodding along to every word. I paused from my speaking of the ‘future’ for a moment, looking to see that he was still okay. “Do you need anything? I have some snacks,” I offered. He looked hungry, and thinking back on it, I couldn’t remember a time in middle school when I wasn’t hungry. I never particularly had issues with food, it was more that I had issues finding food in the first place.

“Snacks sound good.” When I returned with the bag of snacks originally intended for movie night, Izuku already seemed more alert and more upright. “Can you tell me more about our quirk?” he asked excitedly. His mood - my mood when I was younger seemed even more temperamental than mine now. He went from on the verge of death and in the midst of a breakdown just half an hour ago, now to this. 

I quickly found myself on the sofa right next to my younger self, just two empty pringles cans and half a bag of takis between us. 

Then, came a question that I wasn’t expecting. As young Izuku reached into the bag of takis, pulling out a handful to eat, he said, “Kacchan has these everyday at lunch.” There was a pause before he continued, “Do we escape Kacchan?”

“Yes. And no,” I say, and a look of concern crosses his face. “But that’s a good thing,” I add. “He and I are good friends now. We’re both at the same school. First year was hard, but he apologized and we’ve been slowly getting closer since. The taki’s were supposed to be for him.”

“So… he isn’t mean anymore?”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but he’s not a bully, and he’s grown a lot. He’s more… the type to insult people affectionately now, though he’ll never admit it. He cares a lot about his friends. And he really cares a lot about us.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You ever heard of queerplatonic relationships?” I asked. Izuku shook his head. “Well, you can figure that one out another time then.”

Izuku went quiet for another moment, a contemplative look covering his face. “How do we get better? From… y’know, this stuff.” He gestured to his bandaged arms. 

“I’m not gonna lie. It’s really damn hard. But, in highschool, you get some really good friends, and they all love and care about you. They were there for me, and they still are now, when I have bad days. A few times, Kacchan’s even slept in my dorm with me, just to make sure I was okay.”

“But… That’s so far away.”

“Listen to me kid,” I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say, but he deserves the truth. “Middle school is hell. But highschool makes it all worth it. Just… please, try to stay that long, for both of us.”

“I’m gonna try my best.”

—

Within the next half hour, younger Izuku was asleep on my shoulder. I could tell it was nearly time to go, so I packed away the remaining snacks (just a quarter bag of takis, half a bag of gummy bears, one can of pringles, and half a bag of chex mix), and lifted Izuku off the sofa, trying to carry him without waking him. I laid him down onto his bed, pulling a blanket over him, and leaving a small note on his bedside table.

As soon as I walked out the front door, I could tell it had changed again. I looked down, seeing the welcome mat was no longer beneath my feet. As I walked back to the dorms, I couldn’t stop thinking about the younger me. I looked over my arms, carefully examining for any scars that weren’t there before, or any that were no longer there, looking for any possible change in my past, but there was none. There were no noticeable new scars, showing further attempts that had not occurred in my own timeline, nor was there an erasure of the two more attempts I knew happened since that day. But, I was still here, in my own timeline, so the past me must’ve made it. He must’ve been okay, since I was okay now. 

—

When I got back to the dorms, there was no mention of how long I had taken, so I assumed no time had passed between when I left the present and when I came back. I walked around the common room, passing everybody their snacks, apologizing to those whose snacks were already half eaten, but not explaining. 

When I passed Kacchan his, he was immediately asking me, “Who the fuck ate my takis?”

“Someone else needed them more,” I said, as I settled on the sofa, leaning against him. 

“Someone being you?” he asked.

“I guess you could say that,” I said with a smirk, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. 

“Don’t eat my damn food, shitwad,” He said, gently swatting at my shoulder, but we were both already laughing. It was nothing like it used to be, how it still is for younger Izuku. 

We kept throwing insults back and forth, before Mina told us to both shut up so everyone else could hear the movie. For the rest of the evening, my head rested on Bakugo’s shoulder, and my hand in his, as he absentmindedly traced over the scars on my fingertips. 

—

When I returned to my room, it was already past midnight, but there was one last thing I had to do before I was able to sleep. I reached into the nightside table, and pulled out an old crumpled piece of paper. The edges were worn down, and he was beginning to worry that it was going to fall apart at the creases. There was a small splatter of blood in one corner, from some bad night or another, and a coffee stain in the upper right corner, but it was still legible. The paper read, I’m sorry to leave without a goodbye. I just wanted to tell you, I believe in you. No matter how hard it gets, you will be okay. The present may be hard, but the future is here, and it’s waiting for you.

-future Izuku

-☆-
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