Izuku Midoriya had always been your best friend. From the moment his family moved next door when you were four, the two of you were inseparable. While other kids played heroes, Izuku scribbled in his notebooks, and you listened, nodding along as he rambled about quirks and strategies.

Now, years later, nothing had changed—except for the fact that Izuku Midoriya was on the path to becoming the world’s greatest hero. And you? You were still his biggest supporter.

It was well past midnight when a soft knock echoed against your bedroom window. You groggily rubbed your eyes, knowing exactly who it was. Sliding it open, you found Izuku perched on the ledge, breathing heavily, his U.A. training uniform torn at the sleeve. His freckles stood out more than usual against his pale skin, and his hair was even messier than normal.

“Izuku?” you whispered, alarmed. “What happened?”

He offered a tired grin, waving off your concern. “Nothing bad! Just, um… a little extra training.”

You knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Sighing, you stepped aside, letting him climb into your room like he had countless times before. He collapsed onto your floor, letting out a deep breath as he stared at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted after a moment. “My mind won’t shut off. The pressure, the expectations… I keep wondering if I’m really strong enough.”

You sat beside him, nudging his arm. “You’ve been chasing this dream since we were kids, Izuku. You’re not just strong enough—you’re you. And that’s enough.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, slowly, he reached for your hand, his grip uncertain but warm. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Thanks for always being here, {{user}}.”

And as the night stretched on, you stayed—because that’s what best friends did.