Izuku Midoryia One-Shots

Waiting to be Weightless

Warning: Graphic descriptions of eating disorders.

    He didn't know when it started.

    It wasn't immediate, but more like gradual. At first, you probably couldn't even tell that anything was wrong. Maybe he was just pushing himself extra hard. Going that extra mile. Always.

    Then it started to get worse, and he didn't know what to do. He knew that this wasn't healthy. It was just so hard to explain. How do you explain that every time you try to eat, your mind screams at you. No, don't you dare eat. You're not hungry.

    But he was. He was so, so hungry.

    And when Izuku could fight the voices (the voices that were always there, never ending), and eat. He would lay in his bed during that depths of the night and think about how much he hated himself. And then, on his days where he can't stand the feeling of food in him, he'll go to the bathroom and stick two fingers down his throat.

    Izuku tried to fight it at first, he did, promise. But whatever this was, snuck up on him. Because at first it was extra training outside of school, which had been a comforting routine for him. But then that training turned into replacing it with sleep (he didn't need sleep, Izuku thought. He needed to get stronger), and some where along the way he started skipping dinner. And then he got used to the feeling of going to bed hungry.

    Izuku was still getting two meals a day, and Izuku still felt okay. Sure, he was exhausted from the nights where he didn't allow himself to sleep, but that was okay. It was just a small price to pay.

    Everything was fine. Until Izuku started to look. He looked at all these different bodies that were slimmer with more muscle than him. It started to become a routine, comparing other people to himself. He started to stand in the mirror and look, but he didn't see. All he thought was that he wasn't good enough, and that that needed to change. Maybe, if he was just skinnier and built more muscle, he would become good enough.

    (But he didn't know how far he was supposed to go. How far was good enough. Would it be good enough? Would he ever know when he could stop? Or would Izuku just keep on going and going because he would never be good enough?)

    Izuku started to train in the mornings. No one thought anything if it, no one knew just exactly how early he had gotten up. No one knew how late he had stayed up. But Izuku seemed fine, so they encouraged him. Telling him how great he was doing and to keep on going.

    So he did. But every morning he fought an internal war in his mind. And the reason was of something as simple as breakfast. The thing is, Izuku knew he needed to eat. He knew that if you were starving like he was, the normal human action would be to eat. Breakfast was something he forced himself to eat everyday; if the only reason was to stop his shaking, well, nobody needed to know.

    But then he started to skip it. It was okay though, because he still had lunch. And it's not like he skipped breakfast all the time, just on the days where he forced himself to look at the cold reflection of the mirror for a tiny bit to long and would've ran late to class if he didn't skip it.

    (He refused to think that he was doing that on purpose. That he started to get ready for school at a slower pace just so he could skip it.)

    Izuku started to limit lunch soon enough. And the most twisted part of it? He was proud of it. He was proud of the agonizing pains of his stomach, because he was in control. He couldn't trust his own body. It was impossible for Izuku, because what if Izuku's body failed him? After all, his mind was telling him that it wasn't enough, that right now, Izuku was worthless.

    Izuku ignored the clumps of hair the would greet him on his pillow like little presents. He ignored his chapped, bleeding lips and the new scars on his fingers. He ignored that he was always cold, no matter how many blankets he placed upon himself until it almost suffocated him. He ignored the concerned glances and the shaky limbs.

    He disregarded all of the warning signs, because he was doing great, right? This wasn't just about being skinny enough, it was about all that self-hatred for yourself. That maybe if your body is skinny enough, pretty enough, strong enough, you'll learn to love yourself too.

    But starving, the urge to know just how far you can go, is addicting. And soon enough, Izuku figured out that he couldn't get out of this like he thought he could. He thought that once he liked where he was at, he could stop this utter destruction of his body. He soon finds out that he can't, because he doesn't know how too. He's become too reliant on it, and he doesn't know if he can let go.

    He wants to stop, he really, truly does. But he doesn't know how too, doesn't think he ever will. Izuku never thinks about telling people about his... Struggles (was he really struggling? Izuku thought he was in control). And if he did, he would think that they wouldn't be able to do anything anyways. He was far to gone, far to deep in to his own mind.

    (But it was possible and people were starting to get worried. Starting to realize that this wasn't normal, wasn't healthy. But they hoped that this could go away on its own. That maybe this was just a phase.)

    Izuku knew that he was far too gone, so all he could do was repeat. Do the things he's been doing, but now, he was no longer proud of himself. He was in pain and he wanted it to stop.

    He didn't think it would last this long. Now he thinks it will last forever.

    Until his heart gives out.