Sometimes, in the quiet moments of the night, Midoriya Izuku stirs. Sometimes gasping from a nightmare he can hardly recall, sometimes wincing from pain that has him tossing and turning, sometimes coming quietly into awareness for seemingly no reason at all. Tonight it's the latter but the pain certainly isn't helping, so he gets up and wanders down to the dorm kitchen.
The process of making hot chocolate has always been soothing and losing himself in quiet thoughts and memories is easy. He had come to the sudden realization just that afternoon that he doesn't really remember what it's like not being in pain anymore. He had pushed the thought away and focused on his homework but now in the silence of an empty kitchen it comes back. He's always in pain now, probably always will be. That's... a pretty scary thought.
He's experienced plenty of pain before. Scrapes from being shoved and tripped, bruises from "roughhousing," burns he prefers not to think about, the all encompassing agony of drowning in sludge, the ache of self improvement. But that was different, those aches and pains faded with time, even the ones that left scars.
It isn't always noticeable, most of the time he can put it out of his mind to focus on classes, his friends, becoming a hero! But sometimes all those things fade away only to be replaced with the dull ache of his hands. It's the only thing he can focus on in those moments. The throbbing in time with his heartbeat.
When Izuku was still a very little boy and his mother needed a babysitter he would go to the Bakugou's, but they weren't always available so his mom would turn to their neighbor Tanaka-san. She didn't watch Izuku often but he's found his thoughts drawn to her more and more as time passes by. She was an old woman, friendly and kind and tired with a quirk that allowed her to create a quiet bubble around herself. She mostly used it to ignore her upstairs neighbor's loud music, and Izuku thought it was fascinating. The reason he thinks of her now is because of her hands. They were gnarled and her fingers were curled in on themselves unnaturally. She often had trouble with chopsticks and was forced to give up the knitting she loved long before Izuku was born.
She told him once with a bit of wistfulness she would have made him a lovely hat if she still could. He saw her wincing sometimes on cold and stormy days and he knew it was her hands, Izuku was a very observant child after all. He would help her as best he could but he was still very small and clumsy, he could only do so much. He wonders if he'll have to give up his notebooks one day like she gave up her knitting. He could still do analysis of course, but it wouldn't be the same. He wonders if he'll mourn the loss, he knows the answer.
He thinks of his hands and wonders if he will have days he can't manage chopsticks, or write, or do many of the other little things he hardly thinks about doing now. The things many people take for granted.
He's an analyst at heart so he'll often turn his mind to the origins of his injuries. He'll turn them over in his mind, considering. Could things have been different? Would he change things if he could? The answer he finds is always the same. He can't find it in himself to regret anything. Of course things might be different if he had figured out full cowl earlier or fought with the benefit of hindsight, but the past isn't malleable, only the future.
Sometimes, on very bad days when his mind wanders to the subject of his hands, Izuku wonders if he will ever live to see those days. He will think of the heroes who don't make it to retirement, of All Might who fought until he could no more and suffers the consequences. He's come close to dying so many times already. He hates when his mind whispers that he may never grow old like Tanaka-san, that he might never live to see his hands grow worse with age.
Tonight, it's thankfully not to be, he's shaken from his thoughts before they can take him down that path by the beeping of the microwave. He finishes making his hot chocolate and clutches the mug, letting the heat soothe the consistent ache. With a relieved sigh he takes a long sip and turns his mind to better things.
Tomorrow's Saturday and he's gotten permission to go to an arcade with his friends! They had been chatting at lunch on Monday and Tsu mentioned she had visited her family over the weekend and brought her siblings to a local arcade. Izuku had sheepishly admitted he'd never been and Uraraka had excitedly suggested they all go together. Todoroki nodded very seriously and declared he would pay. Iida did the planning and got permission. Izuku cried a little bit, he just loves them all so much!
He finishes the rest of his hot chocolate and heads back to bed. For once he's treated to continued pleasant thoughts of all the fun things he's going to do with his friends instead of nightmare scenarios of them being hurt as he drifts off. He sleeps well the rest of the night and dreams of nothing.