From Zero to Three

Tearing Himself Apart

It was 1:00am when Izuku realized he wasn't gonna be sleeping tonight. 

He went to bed around 9pm, exhausted from that day’s training session. But for some reason he just couldn't stop thinking. 

No one really even cares about me do they?

He hated himself. His body, his obsessive nature, the way he looked, the way he sounded. He hated all of it. 

He had no way of truly knowing if his classmates felt the same way. 

Even if they did love and care about him, he wasn't exactly essential to their lives. 

If he killed himself…

Sure, they'd hurt…

But at the end of the day, life would move on without him.

They'd say “why didn't you ask for help?”

He sat up in bed.

The truth is, I did ask for help. 

He reached over to grab the scissors on his nightstand. 

He needed something to pull him out of his own head.

They were just too busy. I can't blame them really, it's not exactly their problem. 

Anything. 

He rolled up one of the legs on his boxers and dug into his skin as if he was desperately trying to tear the anxiety off of his body. 

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

He wanted to rip himself limb from limb until there was nothing left for him to hate. 

He moved from his thighs to his arms to his chest hoping something would just make him stop thinking. 

After several more cuts he realized that this wasn't working. 

He left his dorm through the window, not bothering to patch up his wounds or change out of the now bloody t-shirt. 

He used his quirk to make his way to the rooftop. 

Once there, he took a deep breath.

 He focused his energy into his arm and used One For All to slam his right hand against the edge of the building, instantly snapping all of his fingers besides his thumb in half. 

“FUCK”

Even with the pain in his now broken and throbbing hand, he still couldn't shake the anxiety still building in his system. 

All he could think about was tearing himself apart even more