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“Problem child,”
“Problem child?”
“Problem child!”
Over and over again that oh-so-fond nickname crashes around in Izuku’s skull, ricocheting off every available surface. It sits heavy in his stomach, a reminder that he can never truly escape his troublesome nature.
He’s no stranger to being on the receiving end of his teacher's scorn and although it’s certainly not as blatant anymore, it still stings when his sensei’s sharp eyes lock onto him and that accursed name is muttered, as a warning, reprimand or just out of pure exasperation.
All of that leads to now, standing at the front of the classroom after being asked to stay behind probably because he’s causing more problems, living up to that name once again.
Aizawa-sensei surveys him from behind the podium before opening his mouth, “It seems you’ve been distracted lately, something on your mind you want to talk about, problem child?”
Izuku flinches and looks anywhere but his teacher's eyes as memories swarm his mind, of towering adults with criticising eyes, of disapproving voices tutting and scolding him for getting in the way of the other kids, for creating problems for himself and those who subsequently have to deal with his actions.
Perceptive as ever, Aizawa figures him out quickly, “Do I make you uncomfortable by calling you that?”
Izuku bites his lip, “ Uh just a bit sensei, just…” His mumbles taper off and he chooses to resolutely stare at his garish red shoes.
His teacher sighs a deep, bone tired sound. “It’s just a harmless name but if it really bothers you that much, I suppose I can refrain from calling you as such from here on out,” however, a quick glance up at the adult tells Izuku that even though he may not vocalise it anymore does not mean he doesn’t believe it anymore.
His teacher will always see him as the problem, forever the good-for-nothing idiot always getting in the way.
Izuku bows his head down once more and fists clench at his sides as tears make his vision blurry.
“Is there anything further you wish to discuss?”
And that’s it? Poor little Izuku has his feeling hurt and then gets dismissed. It seems some cycles are just too hard to break. UA was supposed to be different, a place where he would finally get the help to achieve his dreams, a place where he would fit in, where he wouldn’t be hated for simply existing.
An ugly, burning feeling rises in the teen’s chest and his eyebrows furrow as his head rises and his eyes lock into his teacher, “You know sensei, you have done nothing but remind me of how much of a problem I am. I am the chore, the job you didn’t want to do. And to think I looked up to you for so many years, and what you did at the USJ gave me hope that finally there was going to be change, I’d have a teacher that wouldn’t look down at me, wouldn’t see me as the cause for every complication. Instead, you have singled me out, multiple times, calling me a problem child over and over until it’s branded itself behind my eyelids. You criticise me and tell me how bad I’m doing and yet never once have you offered any kind of support or training! I have broken my bones time and time again and that’s all on me, it’s all my fault and not on the person who is supposed to help me improve and move past that!”
Izuku pants heavily and catches a glimpse at the scars on his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.
After a few moments of silence, he sighs, “Did you know recovery girl wants nothing to do with my injuries now? I’ve become a burden to her too. Some things just never change.”
The teen glances back up at where his teacher stands unmoving. “And you know what the funny thing about all of this is? It’s reminded me that I am just a child. I need guidance to grow and improve and yet all of you, all you heroes, just push and push, place these expectations and berate us when we fail to meet them. I try so hard to just be enough but I think I see now that I’ll never really be enough. Not to you, not to them, not to me. No matter how many injuries I suffer, how much I can improve, there will always be places I am lacking and that is always what everyone will focus on.”
Rapidly running out of steam now, a weight settles heavily around Izukus shoulders and a forlorn feeling makes a home in his heart.
“For a school supposed to be teaching me how to be a hero, all you’ve taught me is that I’ll only ever really amount to being a liability.”