A/N: Hello everyone. This story's a bit of a different feel from my usual ones in that it DOES NOT have a happy ending. Seriously, this is Hurt No Comfort. It is not a happy story. I've just been having a bit of a bad day, so I needed to vent a bit. This story was mostly written months ago (those of you on my discord may have seen some fanart for it by HiddenAppreciation), but I did the final edits today.

There are technically 2 happier alternate endings for it, but I'm not in the headspace to do happy right now, hence this update.

That said, please take care of yourselves, and only read what you believe you can handle.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR SUICIDE, DEPRESSION, AND SIMILAR CONCEPTS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

~~~

Izuku clenched a fist in the darkness of his room. Why would she do this to him? How could she do this to him? His own mother... The betrayal hurt worse than when he was four.

He supposed it should hurt worse because this time, she wasn't crushing an unattainable dream... she was crushing the very future he'd been building with his own blood, sweat, and tears.

"I'm pulling you out of UA."

The words rang through his mind. They'd been attacked by villains several times this year, and he supposed he could understand her worry, but... he was finally on his way to becoming a hero!

"I thought it'd be kinder if you were rejected by the school, but... that didn't happen. I tried... I tried so hard to be supportive, but this is just too dangerous! I can't take it anymore!"

He understood. He was hurting her... but this was his dream. Why couldn't he chase it? He had a Quirk now!

"Please... just stop it. Leave this dream behind. You're too kind for that world, Izuku! I'm glad you have a Quirk now... you can go to a normal school and get a good job. You've got a good head on your shoulders, I know you can do it! Please just leave this hero business behind. It's suicide."

As if he hadn't considered such a route numerous times. Honestly... if he couldn't become a hero, what good was he? He had a Quirk now, so all the laws on Vigilantism would undoubtedly apply to him. That was no longer a viable backup plan.

Back before All Might... before One for All, he'd expected himself to fail UA's exam. He'd planned to become a vigilante instead, knowing that a Quirkless individual would be nearly invisible to the laws. At most, he'd get fined or something, but it wasn't anything more than what someone would get for a minor speeding ticket—a little painful slap on the wrist, but nothing bank-breaking.

And that'd be only if he were caught. But now that he had a Quirk, that path was closed to him. True vigilantism had a very harsh punishment, and even Izuku wasn't dumb enough to try that route—especially since Aizawa was well-known for his work with vigilantes.

No, if his mother truly went through with this—and it seemed she had every intention of doing so—then his options were quickly dwindling away into puffs of smoke.

Everything he'd worked for... bled for... fought for... would be for nothing. He felt a familiar well of despair bubble up within him, threatening to consume him in the deceitfully calm bubble of depression that'd followed him nearly his entire life.

"Take a swan dive off a roof!"

He hadn't thought about Kacchan's advice for a long, long time. Honestly, though... it was starting to sound even more tempting than before.

He'd thought having his dreams crushed on that rooftop was the most painful thing he'd ever been through, but he could see now that he was wrong. It was far worse to have his dream within his grasp, and have someone he loved—someone who was supposed to care about him—rip it away.

Perhaps, at one time, he would've been fine doing support or analysis work for a living, but he'd finally had a taste of first-hand true heroics.

And it was like a drug. He knew he'd never be content doing anything else. Heroics filled a void in his chest that'd been gouged out by over a decade of bullying and discrimination. Finally, for the first time in his life, he could make a difference. He could save people! Really save them!

He'd saved Iida from Stain, though he'd needed help, he'd managed to save both Iida and Native by distracting the Hero Killer until Todoroki arrived.

He'd saved Bakugo in Kamino, and nearly got expelled for it, but they'd pulled through and he hadn't fought once.

He'd saved Eri from Overhaul, and he had saved her like a real hero! It was one of his greatest achievements, in his mind, right up there with protecting Uraraka from the Zero Pointer. A true life that he'd protected with his own two hands. It was euphoric, to know that his existence was making a visible positive impact on the world. That for once, he wasn't just a useless deku, but a Hero named Deku.

But now...

Now it was all about to shatter. A harsh wave of anxiety and emotional agony swept through him like a tidal wave as he curled up in his bed, suppressing a sob. God, he was a mess. His mother was right... what kind of hero cried themselves to sleep?

But he couldn't help but wish that he could change her mind. His mother held full executive power over him legally, and as a lawyer she would no doubt be able to keep him from any hero course.

His life was truly over now, wasn't it? He felt a bitter laugh rise in his throat as he eyed the white envelope in the darkness of his room. A letter that his mother had told him to hand to his teacher tomorrow. Izuku had promptly read through it in a fit of bitter rage, careful not to tear or crumple anything.

It was a letter requesting his resignation from UA, complete with a threat to sue and the paperwork to go along with it. Her signature was at the bottom of the resignation form that she'd included, and the physicality of it all hurt more than a beating from Muscular.

It was the final nail in his proverbial coffin. (Or, perhaps, not so proverbial).

He wasn't sure if he'd drifted to sleep at some point in the night, or if he simply dissociated for a few hours, but it felt like he blinked and the pre-dawn light of the sunrise was spilling from his window into his bedroom.

Izuku sighed as he sat up, feeling oddly detached in a way that he was intimately familiar with from his middle school days. He went through the motions of putting on his uniform—perhaps for the last time—and nearly forgot the letter.

He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at his scarred hands as he turned his provisional license over in his grasp. All this... for nothing? His license would be worthless if he wasn't actively attending a Heroics School, and his mother had made it clear that going to Aldera General High was his 'best option'—which certainly had no heroics course.

It would be nothing but a bitter reminder of what could have been. He eyed his image—nervous smile and watery eyes glistening with a foreign pride at finally having gotten physical proof of his goal.

"Worthless... just like me." He gave a dry, bitter laugh. It came again, and again, until he was quietly laughing uncontrollably. Truly, why would he ever think he could become something worthwhile? All Might was a fool to give him this Quirk—obviously Mirio would be a better choice, especially now that his own Quirk was gone.

The laughter died down, leaving him in the stark silence of his bedroom. He felt hollow and detached, like nothing was real. The world had lost all color and nothing truly mattered anymore.

Once he was out of UA, there was nothing left for him.

Selfish, was he? For putting his life on the line to help others? He shook his head. It was his only reason for being alive. If there was one thing he'd learned at UA, it was just how amazing life could be.

And he knew, deep down, that he would never want to live without that.

He quietly went over to his desk and took out a pen. Even if he never gave Aizawa-sensei the letter, his mother undoubtedly would send a copy herself. He doubted she honestly expected him to be able to hand it over himself anyhow.

He spent the next hour or so writing letters of his own. At one point in his life, the only letters he would've written would be to his mother, Auntie Mitsuki, and Kacchan. Now, he had an entire stack for his classmates and even some of his teachers. It made his heart ache painfully, and the letters held a shocking weight to them that he hadn't expected them to have.

Izuku hadn't noticed that he was crying until he noticed the tear stains on Aizawa's letter. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live and be a hero and fight alongside his classmates! He didn't want to do this! But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would not survive long without heroism to light his path.

If anything, he had half a mind to hunt down Shigaraki and suicide bomb the League or something, but he had no idea where to start looking for them, and with Kurogiri, it was truly a hopeless endeavor. No, it was better this way... he would just be holding everyone back, honestly.

He wrote one final letter, carefully plucking a single strand of his hair and taping it to the inside. This one would go to All Might, along with an apology. Hopefully the Quirk would still transfer just fine, and he would be able to find someone else to take it.

He carefully sealed them up—each one carefully tucked into an inner zipper compartment of his backpack so nothing would be found too soon. An odd guilt weighed down upon his heart, but it was laced with a distinct feeling of... giddiness. Excitement. Relief. This was something he'd been told to do all his life. It was just this last push that prompted him to take it.

He shouldered his bag—it was heavy, far too heavy with all those letters and that hair with All Might's Quirk—and made his way out to the kitchen. His mother turned to smile at him.

"Good morning, sweetie. Do you have the letter?" She waited for his nod. He didn't trust himself to speak without choking on the dreams she was crushing with a smile. "Good. I'll email the principal after school today just to be safe. I know it's disappointing, sweetheart, but heroics is far too dangerous. Even with a Quirk you've almost died. I know you love heroes, but you need to think realistically. This is your future. I'm only doing what's best for you." She pulled him into a hug, and he couldn't help but stiffen. All he could feel was a cold numbness, and he wasn't sure if it came from her or him. She pulled away with a disappointed smile. "I love you." He gave her a dry scoff, not even bothering to tell her he loved her back.

He didn't want his last words to his mother to be a lie.

She gave a disappointed sigh as he turned around and left without even bothering to see what she'd made for breakfast. No... he would have this one, last day.

He tilted his head back to watch a few birds fly overhead. It was looking to be a beautiful day. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair and the sky was quickly lightening to a brilliant blue.

He forced a smile on his face. Today would be the last day he'd need to be strong. It'd be the last time he'd need to lie and say he was fine. And tomorrow... He wouldn't have to worry about anything else. He knew one building at UA that was incredibly tall. Sure, he felt bad inconveniencing the school by doing it on their grounds, but he wanted his last moments to be in the only place he'd ever felt safe... the only home he'd ever known.

Izuku wanted to die with his dream.

He gave a small smile as he slowed his pace, admiring the gates of UA. This would be the last time he passed through them after all. He had no intention of leaving today. He'd spent a good portion of the morning after writing those letters studying the patrol routes of his teachers and the times they usually left campus.

He felt bad about planting a small bug in UA's camera system—small enough that it wouldn't be noticed until he activated it—but he couldn't risk Nezu seeing him go to his chosen spot.

Either way, that wouldn't be until after school. He'd hate for a student to find his body, after all. He was sure he'd be a mess.

He paused for a moment by the doors to 1–A. With a gentle smile, he pushed them open.

"Deku! Good morning!" Uraraka greeted him enthusiastically, and he sent her a bright grin back. He wanted her to remember his smile.

"It's good to see you here so early!" Iida smiled as he made robotic chopping motions with his hands, causing Izuku to chuckle.

"Yeah, I woke up pretty early so I decided to just get to class." They were the first friends he'd had since he was four.

"Che. Whatever." Kacchan huffed, but his glares didn't hold the same fiery hatred that they used to. It'd shifted into something more... friendly? Like a rivalry almost.

Not that it mattered what it was at this point. Izuku sent Kacchan a smile. "Morning Kacchan." His voice was soft and quiet, and the blond startled a little before giving him an odd look. Izuku paid it no mind as Aizawa stepped into the room, calling the class to order.

He didn't really tune out the lesson, but he paid more attention to Aizawa himself. The man was truly a remarkable hero—Izuku's favorite after All Might. Not only was he incredible at fighting and respectable as an Underground Hero, but he'd fought tooth and nail multiple times to protect them. If nothing else, Izuku felt the most guilty towards Aizawa for what he was planning to do. He felt like he was about to spit in the man's face.

After all the hard work, hospital visits, and blood that this man—his teacher—had put in to protect him, he was about to throw it all away. It was why Izuku had spent special time on Aizawa's letter. His was, along with All Might's, the longest and most detailed of them all. Aizawa would get the full story and all the reasons why—as well as the fact that he was Quirkless.

Aizawa would understand... he always understood, even when it didn't seem like it.

Said Underground hero kept giving him odd looks throughout the class, but Izuku couldn't really bring himself to care under the muddled cloud of detachment and depression that settled around his mind like a fog.

At lunch, his phone rang, and a quick glance showed that it was his mother, asking if he'd given his teacher the letter yet. He quickly wiped the bitter smile from his face before someone saw as he typed out a reply that he'd do so after school, and to expect him to be late.

Despite how amazing Lunch Rush's food was, Izuku found himself hardly able to eat any of it. He was a bundle of nerves through his afternoon classes—which were theory this time, instead of practical heroics.

Finally, with the ringing of the bell, the day was done. Izuku let out a sigh of relief even as his heart pounded. He sent his friends on ahead with a final hug of goodbye—not that they knew that.

Hell, he even managed to give Kacchan a friendly fist-bump, and he laughed heartily at the mystified look on the blond's face. He made up some story about forgetting something in the classroom, and smiled at them when they promised to see him tomorrow.

A promise he didn't return, not that they noticed.

He headed over towards the building—used for the business course, if he remembered correctly. Business students tended to leave before any of the other courses. He wandered the empty halls with a small sigh before pulling out his phone. If he wasn't about to kill himself, Nezu would certainly do so for him as he hit the button that would jam the cameras in the school for the next five minutes.

Five minutes was all he needed after all, as he opened the door to the roof. He smiled as the breeze ruffled his hair like it had that morning. He carefully set his bag down, unzipping the pocket with the letters so they'd be easily found, and took off his shoes. He set them neatly beside his bag as he approached the edge of the roof.

He had two minutes till the cameras were back online, but he doubted that his bug would really work for all five minutes. Nezu was smart, after all. The more time he wasted the higher the odds of one of the heroes at the school catching him.

Well, he was out of the school either way now, wasn't he?

He smiled as he looked out over the extensive and breathtaking campus of UA. "It was great while it lasted." He turned so he'd see the sky. For a moment, he had the irrational fear that Aizawa would be standing there, ready to catch him and demanding answers with an overly concerned tone. But the roof was empty sans his bright yellow All Might backpack. He leaned back, a smile on his face.

Guilt clenched his heart, crawling up his throat until it choked him with tears, but beyond that was a stronger emotion—relief.

And so, Midoriya Izuku fell.

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Shouta knew something was off with his Problem Child today. Something was very wrong. He was normally incredibly attentive in class, but today it seemed that his words went in one ear and out the other. He stared at Shouta with a sort of melancholy that looked extremely out of place on the child's face.

Even at lunch he hardly ate anything, and the way he was talking to the other kids was... it wasn't like he was faking, but more like... he was drinking up every moment with them like he would never see them again. It was unnerving and it worried him more than it should.

He spoke to the other staff members about it during their lunch period. "Does anyone else notice the way Midoriya is... off today?"

"Yeah, the Little Listener wouldn't really take his eyes off me." Hizashi answered with a frown. "But he didn't seem to be paying attention to the work either. He looked almost guilty. Think he snuck out again?"

"If he'd gotten into trouble, we would've already heard from Recovery Girl." Shouta dismissed the thought instantly.

"I do agree that he's... distant today. But perhaps he's simply having an off day?" Cementoss interjected.

"If it continues tomorrow, talk to him about it." Nemuri suggested. "But if it's just today, then let the kid have a day of distraction. He's got some of the top grades in the year! He can afford to daydream a little."

Shouta didn't like that, but it was the logical answer. He tried to tell himself that the uncomfortable clenching of his gut was the result of bad coffee, but he'd been a hero for far too long to ignore his instincts.

He had a meeting with Nezu after school regarding the upcoming implementation of the dorm system. Nezu always had a monitor up with the live feed of the school cameras, and he contented himself with watching his Problem Child go to leave with his friends.

Only he didn't.

Shouta's gut rolled violently as he turned and started walking towards the business course building. Nezu's voice hardly registered in his ears as the principal fell silent and followed his gaze.

"Aizawa?"

"Something's wrong." He knew the words were true the moment he said them. Every instinct in his body told him that whatever was about to happen he needed to be there. The kid pulled out his cell phone and suddenly the cameras went blank. Nezu jolted in shock.

Shouta didn't wait for a dismissal from Nezu as he ran out the door. He heard the earpiece that all staff members were required to wear since the USJ incident, crackle to life.

"I want all available staff to head towards the Business Course Building immediately." Nezu's voice left no room for argument, but Shouta hardly paid it any mind as he ran with all his might.

His eyes widened in horror and his heart stuttered in his chest as he saw the outline of his student standing on the edge of the rooftop. "He's going to jump." Shouta realized with horror.

"What?! Who?! What's going on!?" Hizashi's voice crackled through as he heard the sound of the other staff members heading out as well.

He wouldn't make it in time. Shouta wasn't going to be fast enough. His student leaned forward and fell. "Midoriya!!"

The sickening crack would haunt Shouta for the rest of his life. Even still, it took him half a minute more to reach his student. The kid was already gone—likely died on impact.

"Problem Child..." He whispered as fell to his knees beside his bloodstained student.

He heard the horrified gasps of the other staff members as they came upon the scene. Hizashi was paler than he'd ever seen him, and Nemuri looked like she was going to hurl.

"He jumped." Shouta couldn't stop the tears from leaking from his eyes. "I was too late."

"Why?" Hizashi whispered. "Why would he...?"

"Midoriya-shounen...?" All Might wheezed as he stared at the student in shock. Shouta felt a pang of guilt and pity pass through him. The kid had been particularly close to the retired pro, after all.

"He left notes." Nezu spoke up softly as he came down the steps, carrying the child's backpack. A rather thick stack of letters was held in his paw, only one of which was opened.

"But... why would he...?" All Might could hardly choke out the words, and Shouta could understand the sentiment.

"It seems that his mother was pulling him out of UA." Nezu explained, holding up the opened letter. "These are the forms that I assume he was supposed to turn in today. They state that heroics is too dangerous, and I suppose he... made his choice."

Nezu held out a letter to All Might, who took it numbly. Shouta caught sight of another letter with his own name printed on it. He didn't want to take it when his hands were stained with the blood of the very child who'd written it, but it seemed he'd written a letter for most of the staff, regardless. Any one of them who had the pleasure of teaching him had a letter.

Later that night, when he was home with his husband and the tears had stopped flowing down his face, he opened the letter.

Aizawa-sensei... I'm sorry. I know this is like a slap in the face to you after all you've done, but... I can't go on without heroics. I feel that you, more than anyone, deserve a full explanation of why I did this.

You see, I grew up Quirkless. The first time I ever used my Quirk was the Entrance Exam for UA. I'd always wanted to be a hero, even if everyone else told me it was hopeless. I got bullied a lot, and I was told to go kill myself on a near weekly basis. You were the first teacher I've ever had that actually stood up for me.

More than that, you cared about me. I'm going to be honest, here. You've always been one of my favorite heroes! Right after All Might, actually. Because you were the proof and hope that a Quirkless nothing like me could actually become something worthwhile.

You fought so hard to protect us all from villains... You'll always be my hero for that. Take good care of Eri for me, okay? When she's older, apologize for me too, will you?

I... Here, he noticed that there were tears stains on the page, and Shouta's heart clenched when he realized they weren't his own—they were Midoriya's. I don't want to die, sensei. I did a long time ago... before UA. Back in middle school, my plan was to become a vigilante—because it's not illegal if you're Quirkless!!—but now that I've got a Quirk, that's not feasible. Mom is dead set on me not attending any hero school...

I may not want to die, but I don't want to live a hollow life. A life without heroics is just...

I want to be something. Protect people. I want to be useful for once in my worthless life. And as a hero, I could do that.

I'm sorry... One of my biggest regrets is leaving you, sensei. More than mom, and more than my friends, you were the one who... you're like the father figure I never had in my life.

Don't blame yourself. I chose this on my own. I've left you the coordinates for where I've hidden my analysis journals on the campus. It isn't much, but maybe you can make some use out of them? It was a hobby of mine. :)

Thank you, Aizawa-sensei. For everything. And goodbye.

-Midoriya Izuku

Shouta didn't know when his shoulders started to shake with suppressed sobs. He didn't know when Hizashi started to quietly muffle his own sobs in the room over. But once he started, he couldn't stop. He hadn't cried this badly since Shirakumo, and he had little doubt that the rest of the staff was handling it just as well.

Because they'd all lost students—especially the heroics ones—to the job before. But they'd never lost one like this. And it hurt.

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The next morning, the staff gathered around their meeting table in a solemn silence. Nezu had handled Midoriya's mother the day before, and today Shouta would be telling his class what happened. But for right now, they were holding their own moment of mourning for Midoriya.

A few quiet sobs were ignored, and eventually Shouta stood and left the room. It was strange, entering his empty classroom and looking at the Problem Child's desk. He would never sit there again. Never mutter. Never let his pencil race across the page as he diligently took notes about whatever lecture he was giving.

He gently set the picture of Midoriya on his desk, along with a white chrysanthemum. He turned when he heard a sharp gasp from the doorway. Of course Iida would come early.

The child couldn't tear his gaze from the flower on the desk which held the photo of the Problem Child's joyfully smiling face—something that Shouta himself had taken when the Problem Child had gotten his license. As his mother didn't provide him with a picture, he had taken the liberty of making his own.

"S-sensei...?" Iida whispered, tearing his gaze away at last to stare at him with wide questioning eyes that begged him to explain.

Shouta could practically feel the heat of Midoriya's blood on his hands as the sound of the child's head hitting the pavement played out in his mind. "Take a seat, Iida. I'll explain when everyone is here."

His voice was soft and smooth and carried the same weight of grief that he'd had after Shirakumo's death. He knew that Iida could hear it too, because instead of taking out his school supplies like he always did, he ended up sitting and staring at his desk.

One by one the students trickled in, each one falling horribly silent as they saw Midoriya's desk. Bakugo looked like he wanted to scream and shout and demand answers, but he took one look at Shouta and shut his mouth.

He must've looked more like crap than usual today. Or perhaps his eyes were leaking again.

Shouta had never heard his classroom so silent before. Once everyone was there, staring at him with an eerie expectation, he sighed. How was he going to say this?

"Sensei...?" Uraraka asked with a choked sound. "Where's Deku?"

He felt his own breath catch in his throat as his mind replayed the image of the light leaving Midoriya's green eyes. "Yesterday after school, Midoriya Izuku took his own life." The words caused a ripple of shock to spread amongst everyone.

"Don't lie!" Bakugo let off an explosion as he stood from his desk. "Deku would never—!"

"I saw it myself, Bakugo." His voice was sharper than he intended, and he took a moment to calm himself. "He left you all letters. I will pass them out now. You may read them now or later. Today we will hold no classes, to mourn him."

Bakugo sat down in a state of shock as Shouta passed him the letter. One by one, most of the class started to open them. Many, like Uraraka, started to cry. Some, like Todoroki, stowed the letter away to read later, in private.

They would have to move on now. He let his gaze linger on the image of the boy who could've become one of the greatest heroes he'd ever known... who had been one of the greatest heroes Shouta had ever known.

Goodbye... Problem Child.