With These Glass Wings *DISCONTINUED*

Chapter 3 | Flightless

*Warning*: this chapter contains a panic attack, it will be marked by the same marker as the last warning (*). It only lasts about two paragraphs but some of the pretenses may be triggering in of themselves. Please note that it is based on my own experiences with panic attacks and might not line up with yours. Thank you, and be safe -♡

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Izuku liked to think things would get better, that someday Kacchan would notice how he hurt izuku, and they would be friends again.

He knew it wasn't likely, he knew, he just needed something to hold on to.

But Izuku knew it was only a wish, he wouldn't dare utter it aloud, but he knew deep down that Katsuki wasn't going to just change his very personality, who he was as a human, because of some random revelation. But he still held on to those hopes.

It was getting harder though, Kacchan and his lackeys were getting worse and worse. It wasn't long until their half-hearted jabs turned into insults, their love taps into genuine one-sided fights (read: beatings).

But Izuku could handle it, after all, he was a big boy now, eight whole years old. A few bumps and bruises couldn't hurt that much.

But, they did, a lot. No, that was wrong, it's not so much the physical blows that hurt (though they did hurt, especially from the kids with strength quirks), but their words felt like knives in his heart.

Over the next two years, izuku was starting to find himself lying in bed, unable able to sleep as the pain was too much. His classmates' words hung over his head in sick mockery of a mobile. It felt suffocating. Well, it might have been their words, it also might have been the anxiety or his cracked rib.

One night he got so worked up that he couldn't physically stay still, so he didn't. He spent the rest of the night stretching, doing minor workouts, anything to keep his body moving, it hurt less then.

It became somewhat of a nightly routine. He was quickly learning that one perk of his quirk is that he didn't need to sleep as much as the average person, he would only have about 8 hours of sleep a week and function completely fine. In fact, he found he felt uncomfortable whenever he slept longer than 14 hours a week.

His nightly stretching went on for two years before he started to feel too confined in his room at night. He longed to stretch his wings to fly-

'Fly?' He thought, 'Can I even fly?'

As strange as it may sound, he barely ever had his wings out. Though, was it really all that strange? His wings were a subconscious source of pride, and the thought of people making fun of them, or worse, touching them or worse, hurting them, made him want to cry and lash out at the same time.

But still, he had wings, and it had never occurred to him that he could fly? Like, never? Izuku sighed as he leaned on the window sill.

He took a breath of the fresh air and enjoyed the cool night breeze. He fluttered his wings absentmindedly. When a stray gust of wind blew into his room, and along with his wings, he gasped.

'Fly. Fly, we need to feel the air in our wings' A part of him said it was different than his typical monolog voice, it was softer, and it seemed to flow as the air itself did.

And Izuku couldn't help but feel inclined to do as the voice said. But he didn't know how to do that. He frowned in thought. Where does one start when trying to learn to fly?

His thoughts immediately went to heroes that fly. There was of course Ryukyu, but there was a newer hero. Their name slipped his mind, 'perhaps Hawk?' Though their name aside, they had wings, wings like his.