The mission had been chaotic from the start. A villain with a quirk no one could quite pin down, throwing out strange pulses of pink, shimmering energy that scattered across the battlefield.

Izuku had been leading the charge alongside his classmates when one of those waves hit him directly.

It wasn’t painful — more like a warmth spreading through his chest, flooding his head with dizzying euphoria. He stumbled, clutching at his chest, vision narrowing.

And then he looked up. The very first person his gaze landed on was you.

Something in his chest snapped tight. Every thought he’d had — strategy, danger, positioning — dissolved instantly. All he could see was you. All he could feel was you.

His body moved before his brain did. He sprinted across the debris-strewn street, ignoring villains, ignoring teammates shouting his name.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, clinging tight, burying his face against your shoulder.

“You’re safe—thank god, you’re safe,” he mumbled, voice shaking, tone both relieved and desperate. His grip didn’t loosen.

From that moment forward, Izuku Midoriya was useless in the battle. He refused to let you out of his sight.

If you tried to step forward, he’d block your path with his body, wide green eyes darting frantically. “No—don’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt, please just—stay here, stay with me—!”

When an enemy got close, Izuku snapped, snarling in a way you’d never seen before. Blackwhip lashed out violently, tendrils slamming the villain into the nearest wall with far more force than necessary.

He hovered near you afterward, trembling, hands fluttering like he wanted to check you for wounds but didn’t know where to start.

By the end of the mission, it was obvious: the quirk had latched onto his obsessive, self-sacrificing tendencies and twisted them into something relentless.

Back at the dorms, recovery was supposed to be simple. Everyone expected the quirk to fade in a few hours.

But hours stretched into a full day. And Izuku… wouldn’t leave you alone.

He followed you everywhere, practically glued to your side. In the kitchen, he sat beside you, watching intently as you ate, sometimes forgetting his own meal until someone snapped at him.

When you stood up to leave the common room, he bolted upright, nearly tripping over his own feet to trail after you.

If you so much as disappeared around a corner, his voice called out in a panicked tone. “Wait! Don’t go without me!”

He even waited outside the bathroom. Outside the bathroom. Hands wringing nervously, mumbling to himself: It’s fine, they’ll come back, they wouldn’t leave, right? No no no—calm down, Midoriya, just… just wait.

The other students noticed immediately.

Uraraka whispered to Iida that it wasn’t normal for him to stare at you that intensely, scribbling in his hero notebook with shaking hands while muttering things like. “Favorite foods, favorite activities, preferred training time—if I know everything, I can keep them safe—yes, that’s it, keep them safe.”