21. I Could Get Used To This

There's a vibration that spreads from his midsection. He finds himself focusing on its rhythm, even and steady. It comes with a little weight, not too heavy as to be uncomfortable, but heavy enough that he can feel it.

The weight shifts, the vibrations become less intense, and something puts pressure on two specific points on his abs, almost painfully, and soon after the weight shifts from one pressure point to the other, in a mock semblance of a massage.

It's uncomfortable, even though he finds he quite likes the vibrations it emits. He focus on the weird massage, counting repeatedly to four in his head with each shift of pressure. It takes a while for his brain to turn back on, to realize he's unconsciously been syncing his breathing to the rhythm of the movements on his abdomen.

To make sense of himself.

He's laid on something soft, staring blankly at the ceiling. His eyes are dry, so he blinks them a few times to moisten them, but ends up scrunching them up instead. The darkness is welcome, and it helps him focus on the rest of his body.

He reaches to pat the weight on his stomach. Falling on something soft and fluffy, his hand automatically starts to pet the – the cat, he finally realizes. It lets out a pleased meow as he absently brush his hand through its fur, and the sound suddenly unlocks his hearing. It's as if he'd been wearing earplugs all along and removed them at once.

He hears the low melody of a music, somewhere to his left, accompanied by light humming. The sound of a page turning. Something clatters in the background, but it's not too loud. Water sloshing, just a room away. Something shifts, clothes, and when he opens his eyes again, Izuku turns his head and sees Yamada-sensei curled up in the armchair, a book in hand. He looks hyper concentrated, and Izuku is content to just watch him read, absently counting each page he turns for a while.

He doesn't know how much time passes this way, and doesn't particularly care. The cat alternates between kneading his stomach and laying down on it unmoving, and Izuku finds he doesn't mind. He listens as music change, and as the sound coming from the kitchen shifts from washing dishes to cooking.

Fridge and cabinets open and close. Chopping vegetable, the knife thudding rhythmically on the cutting board. Ingredients being mixed in a bowl. Something sizzling on the stove top. The smell starts to waft all the way to the living room, and Izuku feels his stomach rumble with hunger.

He sees movement from the corner of his eyes, but he only looks towards the living room entrance when the lights flash on and off twice, head turning his homeroom teacher's way almost in sync with Yamada-sensei.

"Ready in five," Aizawa-sensei says, and Izuku finds himself drawn to the man's hands that are moving along with his words. "Midoriya?" Izuku hums, lets his teacher know he hears him. "How are you feeling?" He shrugs.

He doesn't really know. He feels fine. Comfortable. But he also feels like he's disconnected, like he's not completely there, and he absently knows that's not normal.

He can't bring himself to put this into words.

"It's okay, lil' listener!" Mic-sensei quickly reassures, but his voice is surprisingly gentle. Cheerful, still, but less loud and energetic than in the classroom. Softer. More poised. Izuku likes it. "Are you hungry?"

That one is easy, and Izuku finds himself nodding before he even registers the movement.

"Great! Shou is making Oyakodon. We can eat in the living room if you want?" Izuku shrugs. At home, they always eat meals at the dining table, except on very few rare occasions. "What are you more comfortable with?" Izuku licks his lips, trying to moisten them, but his whole mouth his dry.

"K-kitchen," he answers, though his voice cracks and comes out raspy.

"Okay, think you can get up?" Izuku nods, even if he thinks it's a strange question.

Except, moving proves to be more difficult than he anticipated. His limbs feel heavy and numb, and it's like the connection between them and his brain is messed up. The can jumps down when he starts to move, and it's only once he's sitting up that he realizes he has a blanket over him, now bundles at his waist.

Getting to his feet isn't so hard, but the world spins for several seconds once he's upright. It might only be Yamada-sensei's supporting hand on his shoulder that prevents him from toppling over. Walking is the hardest part. His body is heavy, and his legs uncoordinated. His knees threaten to buckle three times as he makes his way from the couch to the dining table, the muscles in his thighs feeling weak, like jelly.

He gratefully lets himself sink in the chair Mic-sensei lead him to while Aizawa-sensei sets the table.

The food is delicious. The flavors are not too overwhelming and the simplicity of the meal is comforting. His teachers make small talk and include him in their conversation, and little by little Izuku starts to feel more like himself. He goes from mostly non-verbal to full sentences in the span of the meal, and offers to do the dishes once they're all done eating.

"It's okay kiddo! Don't worry about it," Yamada-sensei smiles wide with a hand doing a dismissive wave in the sink's direction.

"Sure," Aizawa-sensei counters, and Mic swivels towards him with a slack jaw, appalled that his partner would let their guest do chores for him. "But I'm drying the dishes," he adds, and Izuku beams at him, feeling relieved he can repay them even with such a small act of kindness.

"Nooo," Yamada-sensei whines childishly, but both Izuku and his homeroom teacher ignore him and tart to get to work. The blond stares at them, mouth agape, as they fill the sink with soapy water. "I!" He comes to join them, and Izuku doesn't miss the teasing smirk Aizawa-sensei sends to his partner. "I'm putting the dishes away then!" Yamada-sensei exclaims petulantly, which makes Izuku laugh out loud.

The work is familiar, even if the company is novel. It's lighthearted, though, and Izuku enjoys the atmosphere.

He wouldn't mind doing this more often, he thinks with a pleased smile.