I'm Thinking It Over
Or not. Izuku thought bitterly to himself.
He had been avoiding Eijiro for the past week, deciding to talk to him again once the situation ended but it seemed like Katsuki had no intention of letting that happen. Just as persistent as ever.
Katsuki still kept throwing folded notes at him during class and Izuku was 100% certain they were all the same notes since he had crumpled quite a few of them, the blonde had clearly uncrumpled and smoothed them out before folding them once again. Balling them up had been his way to tell Katsuki exactly what he thought about his stupid notes, but apparently this asshole wasn’t getting the memo.
Izuku’s psychology class occurred every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and every single class he would have paper thrown at him. He’d try so, so damn hard to focus during the assault of flying paper but in the end it wasn’t worth it and he’d move closer to his professor again.
By the fourth day Izuku had enough. As he gathered his things to move to a different seat he scooped up all the notes that littered his space. After collecting his things he walked down to the trash can that sat at the end of the first row and tossed the notes inside. He decided to sit in the first row as well, not wanting to bring any more eyes to himself. Maybe he should just start sitting down here from now on, certainly Katsuki wouldn’t be able to get away with throwing shit at him if they were both in the first few rows.
Dr. Yagi scrunched up his shirt sleeve and looked at his wrist watch before projecting his voice to the large classroom, “Alrighty, that’s all the time we have left for the day! Remember, midterms are a month from now, so study hard!”
Izuku checked his phone's calendar to make sure he’d added the date of the midterm before beginning to pack his things.
“Ah, Midoriya, could we speak before you go?” his professor asks as he sits down at his desk.
“Of course, sensei!” Izuku nodded and shoved his books into his backpack.
He exits the first row and walks down to his teacher as the other students quickly file out of the classroom. Dr. Yagi looks up from his laptop and peers behind Izuku before speaking.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been moving seats quite a bit since last week.”
“U-Um, yeah! My attention span has been all over the place, you know how it is.” he lies through a forced smile.
“Yes, I have had students with ADHD before and I completely understand that,” his professor smiles genuinely, “but that’s not what’s happening, is it?”
“W-What? N-No, of course not! I–” Dr. Yagi levels him with a look, something sad at a student would lie to him, and Izuku falters, “No… that’s not what’s happening…”
“Are you being harassed, young Midoriya?”
“I… don’t know.” Izuku looks down at his shoes and shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets.
“Would you like me to contact student services?” the lanky man asks as he closes his laptop, stuffing it into a laptop carrier, and opens one of many folders on the large desk.
“No! No, I-I can handle this myself,” he bows slightly, “Thank you for checking in on me, sensei.”
“Of course! Though, I will suggest that you start sitting down in the first rows from now on,” Dr. Yagi says gently and smiles, “You are a bright and capable young man, Midoriya. Don’t let others who don’t have your best interests in mind become a distraction. Now get out of here, I’ve got paperwork to do!”
Izuku and his professor share a laugh.
“Thank you, Dr. Yagi, I’ll do my best!” Izuku smiles brightly and waves goodbye, turning to make his way up to the door.
Alright, this is good. If I just sit far enough away for as long as possible then he won’t be able to bother me, and maybe then he’ll give up altogether. He says to himself, content with this solution. He hikes his bag up his shoulders and grabs onto one of the straps, using his free hand to push open the door.
“Izuku.”
He glances towards the voice.
Are you fucking–
He tightens his grip on his bag strap and starts to walk off, “Leave me alone, Katsuki.”
“Would you just hold on a second?” the blonde reaches out and grabs him by the wrist.
Izuku turns and looks at him in bewilderment, eyes narrowed and mouth ajar.
“Get the hell off of me.” he seethes as he roughly yanks his wrist out of Katsuki’s grasp, promptly turning around and storming off.
He clutches his wrist as he marches down the halls, feeling as if he’d been burned.
Izuku shoulders open the library door and stalks toward his friend’s usual study table in the back. Ochaco is sitting at the table alone, her back towards him, immersed in a book. He hangs his bag on the back of the seat across from her, drops himself down onto the seat, and shoves his face into his hands with a frustrated groan.
“What’s wrong, Deku-kun?” Ochaco asks quietly, shifting in her seat.
“Fucking Katsuki that’s what’s wrong.” he answers, voice muffled by his hands.
“He’s still throwing stuff at you?”
“He waited for me after class and fucking grabbed me!” Izuku looks up from his palms and shakes his hands in exasperation, “He’s so damn persistent!”
“Excuse me? He what? ” she whispers harshly and leans forward, scowling.
“Yeah! He grabbed me by the wrist!” he confirmed in disbelief, shooting out the wrist that had been seized, “He’s such a child! Can’t he just leave me the hell alone?”
“Do you need me to talk to him?” Ochaco cracks her knuckles.
“No, no…” the dark haired boy sighs, feeling some of his anger drain from his body, and slumps in his seat, “I’m just so sick of this shit, it’s taking time away from focusing on my degree.”
“Oh, hun,” she reaches her hand across the table and he takes it, “it’ll be okay. Maybe you should sit closer to the lesson from now on?”
“Yeah, Professor Yagi suggested that too. I think it's the only passive solution I have right now.”
“He’s being such a nuisance that Dr. Yagi noticed?”
“Ugh, right? I’m just lucky that he’s such a kind professor, I bet if this was happening in Mr. Todoroki’s class I’d be getting shit for it.” Izuku laughs quietly, earning an amused smirk from Ochaco.
“And you’d be right.” Shoto comments as he appears from behind a bookcase.
“Shoto! Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“Why are you apologizing? I agreed with you.” the two-toned boy cocks his head slightly, looking at Izuku quizzically.
“I-I know, but it’s rude of me to say such things about someone else’s parent…” Izuku clasps his hands together on the table and frowns slightly.
“Chill, Izuku, he said it was cool,” she taps his hand and turns in her chair to fully face Shoto, “Are you gonna join us to study?”
“No, I was just picking up some books and overheard your conversation,” he walks over to their table and stands at the end of it, “Bakugo has been bothering you?”
“You know that asshole?” Ochaco gapes at him.
“I’m in Mr. Hizashi’s class with him. Why has he been bothering you?”
“I don’t know!” Izuku whines and drags a hand down his face.
“Do you want me to ask him why?” Shoto offers, shifting his weight to one foot.
“No!” Izuku and Ochaco shoot him down in tandem.
Shoto’s eyes widen ever so slightly by the sudden disapproval of his suggestion.
“Sorry, it’s just… a difficult situation.” Izuku amends his outburst and smiles wearily.
“Ah, I understand,” Shoto nods and steps away, “Well, if you ever need a middle man just let me know.”
“Thanks, Sho.” he gives his friend a small smile and waves goodbye.
Hours pass by in the library as Izuku plays on his phone, still too wound up to focus on school. He looks at videos of cute animals and funny comedy skits to try to ease his mind, and it works to a degree. Izuku’s attention is taken away from a particularly goofy looking cat when a text notification pops up at the top of the screen.
Eijiro: Hey man!
Izuku sighs, realizing he does feel a bit bad about blowing off his friend for a week.
Izuku: hey! what’s up? (´▽`)
Eijiro: Just got done at the gym! I can barely feel my legs lol!!
Maybe I should pick up working out again, it could be a good stress reliever…
Eijiro: And I wanted to check in on my Mido-bro, we haven’t talked in so long!
Eijiro: I’m sorry about last week btw 🙁 Baku-bro gave me the run-down
Izuku chest tightens.
Izuku: are you kidding me? did he seriously out me again!?
Eijiro: Huh!? I thought everyone knew you were gay!!
Eijiro: Does this mean we outed you to Shinso too!?
He blinks at his phone in confusion.
Izuku: nevermind! forget i said that!
Izuku: what did he tell you exactly?
Eijiro: That you guys were really good childhood friends and he fucked it up by bullying you.
Eijiro: Don’t worry though, I gave him an earful for that! So not manly 😒
Izuku: oh. um… alright (・_・ヾ
Izuku: do you know why he keeps throwing stuff at me during class?
Eijiro: TjcvjcdsjhJXCDWCJWEDHC3672D2UFDVUEvjjvjgjgdjh
Izuku: ???
Eijiro:(is typing…)
The text bubble pops up and down for a few minutes, heightening Izuku’s confusion.
“Izuku?”
“Hm?” he looks up from his phone and at Ochaco.
“Something going on?” she nods her head towards his phone.
“I think Ei is having a conniption.” Izuku glances back at the screen just as the chat bubble disappears again.
“I thought you weren’t gonna talk to him until the stuff with Katsuki died down?”
“Yeah, I was but… I feel bad leaving him hanging like that, it’s not his fault he’s friends with a total douche–” his phone buzzes in his palm, “hold on.”
Eijiro: Sorry! Had to run downstairs to yell at a certain someone! 😅
Izuku: god please don’t tell me you caused a scene during a class!!! (＞﹏＜)
Eijiro: What of course not!! I’m in our dorm bro!
Izuku:(typing) how are you yelling at him if you’re in ou
He stops typing.
“Nooo,” he whines in defeat, “damn it…”
“What’s wrong?”
Izuku wordlessly slides his phone over to Ochaco. A few moments pass as she reads through the conversation before sucking in a breath through her teeth and hissing out a “yikes”.
“Well, that doesn’t matter! You’ve been here for months without even knowing that he was going here for college, so obviously your schedules don’t match up right now, he probably doesn’t even know you’re in the same dorm building.” Ochaco tries to soothe him, but unfortunately she’s so incredibly wrong.
“Except he totally does , he had to be the “shy transfer student” that was with Eijiro when he invited me to the party and–” he makes a personally horrible realization, “shit, he definitely heard me in my room that day.”
“Were you… like, jerking off or something?” she whispers to him, a hand covering the side of her mouth.
“W-What? No!” he splutters, heat creeping up his neck, “I-I was… singing.”
“That’s it? Just singing?” she raises an eyebrow and scoffs a bit, “Dude, I literally begged you to sing at my sweet sixteen. Your voice is awesome!”
“That’s different! You’re my best friend, of course I don’t care if you hear me sing.”
“Someday,” Ochaco sighs with a smile on her face, “someday, you won’t care if someone other than me hears you. We both know you could be playing at Coachella.”
“As if. I don’t want to be famous anyways, too much pressure.”
“And being a therapist isn’t?”
“No, of course not! I just– I can’t stand the thought of so many people’s eyes on me all the time. One person per hour is more than enough for me, and I get to actually help people– unlike being in a spotlight.” Izuku smiles at the thought, going through years of therapy made him want to give back to other people who were like him.
“You say that as if The All-American Rejects didn’t help you through that break-up in second year,” she smirks, giving him an expectant look.
He simply blows a raspberry in lieu of a reply.
~
About three weeks had passed since Izuku had been practically accosted in the hallway, since he started sitting in the first row of his psych class. Katsuki stopped throwing shit at him and didn’t approach him outside of class, given the last time he tried that and failed.
Unfortunately, Katsuki had moved onto different tactics to pester him. If Izuku didn’t know him for the majority of their lives, he’d say it’s become borderline obsessive. Every few days a piece of paper will slide under his door ( following a theme, Katsuki? ). Sometimes he comes back to his room and it’ll be there, sometimes he’ll be chilling on his bed and out of the corner of his eye he’ll see that little slip of paper slide inside.
For the first two weeks Izuku would just throw the papers away, but at some point his curiosity started to eat at him and he soon gave in.
Izuku,
Can we talk about ෴ the last time we spoke?
Here’s my number.
Of course, after the way he reacted at Katsuki’s previous attempts at talking Izuku probably wouldn’t want a face to face conversation with himself either. He was going to throw the letter away again but he kept it– just in case of… something.
Today, he sits at his desk with Ochaco laying upside down on his bed, hanging over the edge of it and most likely having all the blood in her body rushing into her head, playing on her phone. Izuku is bent over his desk, his head resting on his fist, tapping the eraser side of a pencil against his notebook. He had created a mock-test to study for the midterms, focusing on topics he didn’t understand or struggled with. Ochaco was with him mostly to wait for him to finish studying so they could go hang out with some friends, but also to make sure he didn’t try to “cheat”. Izuku wouldn’t cheat on a real test, but with the answers to his frustrations in the same room as him it was hard to resist looking up what the hell he was missing.
Izuku was deep in thought when his friend fell off his bed, scaring the shit out of him.
“ Holy shi – I mean, are you okay?” Izuku swiveled in his chair, scooting over to where his friend lay on the floor as she held her head.
“Gee, thanks for caring.” Ochaco dripped in fake sarcasm and sat up.
“Oh, shush, just answer the question.”
“I’m fine, mom , Jesus.” she rolled her eyes with a smirk, stopping to squeal about how gross he was as he poked her with his bare foot.
Something caught her eye, however, and she slapped away his foot. He watched her stand up and walk over to his door.
“Where are you going? Do you really hate feet that mu–”
“There’s something under your door, ding-dong,” she informs him, swiping up a piece of paper from under his door and opens it before he can protest, “Wh- I thought you said he stopped doing this?”
“I thought he did! It’s been almost five days since he last did it, I thought he finally gave up,” Izuku gripes, standing up only to flop face-down on his bed, “Just throw it away, I’m pretty sure they all say the same thing.”
“‘Izuku, can we talk about the shit I did to you? Here’s my number.’?” Ochaco reads aloud, cocking an eyebrow.
Izuku rolls over onto his back, “Huh, that one’s different from the last time I opened one.”
Ochaco joins him on the bed, laying side by side, still holding the paper.
“C’mon, just toss it out, I wanna move past this shit,” he huffs and props his head up with his hands.
“Man, he’s really, really persistent…”
“No kidding.” Izuku sighs loudly and closes his eyes. Maybe they should start getting ready to go.
He waits for Ochaco to reply.
A few moments pass before he opens an eye to peek at her.
She’s staring at the letter, seemingly analyzing its contents, her mouth is in a slight frown.
“‘Chaco?”
“Do you remember what you told me after the party?”
“Uhh…” Izuku looks up at his ceiling. To be honest, his brain has been running on empty for the past hour so there’s no hope in remembering.
Ochaco takes his silence as a resounding “no” and lies on her side, holding herself up on her forearm.
“You told me that this was something you were still trying to forget about, which means you still haven’t moved on. So, maybe,” she folds up the paper and puts it on his chest, “you need to do this, to move on. Hell, maybe you’ll even get closure about why he said that shit to you.”
“Ochaco…”
“I mean, he wasn’t always like that, was he? There has to be a reason as to why he suddenly decided to use your identity against you.”
Izuku thinks about what she’s said and… yeah, he has always wondered about that in the back of his mind. Katsuki never said anything about him being transgender until that day, he never even used the wrong pronouns since Izuku came out to him all those years ago. Now that he’s actually, really thinking about it, it’s… weird. It makes no sense either.
“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” He turns on his side to face Ochaco and rests his head on his hand, holding the paper with the other.
“It’s your choice, Deku-kun, you know I’ll support you either way.” she smiles softly down at him.
“Thanks, Ochaco, I really appreciate you helping me with whatever I’ve gotten myself into,” he smiles back, letting out a small, content sigh, and flops onto his back once more. “Y’know, you remind me of my mom sometimes.”
“For real? Why?” Ochaco perks up, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“I dunno, you’re both just really sweet and protective of me– I mean, I don’t think my mom would get into a fistfight for me like you would, but she’d sure as hell tell someone off. She can actually get pretty brutal if you make her mad enough.”
“What? You’re messing with me. Your mom being brutal?” Ochaco gives him a look, something that says “do I look like I was born yesterday?”.
“No, I’m serious! We used to go to a church while I was in middle school and one of the choir girls said something about me being transgender because I didn’t have a father in my life. My mom… let’s just say the following wasn’t very pretty, and I still don’t know if we were banned from the church or if mom simply didn’t want to go there anymore.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never told me how badass your mom is! I feel so betrayed, I could’ve convinced her to take a martial arts class– put some fists behind those words!”
God, no, that’s more up Aunties alley. He smiles to himself.
“You can still try, I’ll give you seven hundred yen if you can get her to even try a class,” he bets her, a small grin on his face.
“Seven hundred!? Oh, you’re so on!”
Three years ago
Izuku gets home from school, tired and ready to take a shower. He slips off his sneakers and greets his mother, who’s cooking dinner in the kitchen, before walking down the hall to his room. He closes the door behind him and drops his bag onto the bed, walking over to his closet and grabbing some comfortable clothes: a pair of gray sweatpants and an oversized All Might shirt. His room isn’t exploding with All Might merchandise like it used to, most of it is packed away neatly in a box under his bed, but his favorite figures still sit on the built-in shelves on the walls and he still has his only poster hanging up above his desk.
Quickly he shucks off his school uniform, hangs it up in his closet, and begins to tug on his sweatpants. He takes off his binder and is about to grab his shirt when he hears a loud clatter and his mom yelping from the kitchen. Whirling around, he yanks open the door and runs down the hall. He skids on socked feet just as he reaches the kitchen threshold.
“Mom–!” and promptly slips on the wood floor, landing with a hard thud on his side, “are you okay!?”
Inko is kneeling on the floor, picking up the many tupperware, bento boxes, and bowls scattered around the kitchen floor. She’s startled by his sudden and loud appearance, turning around at the speed of light to look at him.
“Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt!” his mother wobbly stands and rushes over to him to help him get up, “What have I said about running in the house? Especially when wearing socks? You’re gonna give your poor mother a heart attack, Izu–”
She abruptly stops, looking at him in shock.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
“W-Where did they go!?”
“What? Where did what go?” Izuku grabs his mothers hand and looks her over, “did you hit your head? Should I call–”
“Where did your boobs go!?” she finally looks up at him, her eyes wide.
“WHAT–” Izuku looks down and quickly covers himself with his arms.
He forgot his shirt.
“Y-You didn’t go get some sort of back alley surgery, did you?” his mother asks, voice high and strained with worry.
“Wha- O-Of course not!”
“T-Then how…?” she looks back down at his chest.
“I just work out a lot, I-I’m gonna go put on a shirt.” he starts to back away but his mother pulls him back to her and into a hug, which is uncomfortable considering his arms are still covering himself.
“I-Izuku,” Inko sobs softly and squeezes him tightly, “I’m so proud of you, y-you’ve grown into– into such an amazing young man.”
“Mom…” his eyes water, feeling so many emotions at once. Loved, euphoric, safe, and… a little bit exposed. He pulls away to free his arms and embraces his mother.
“I love you so much, my beautiful son.”
The next day Izuku decided to take a risk, and went to school without wearing his binder.
And no one said anything, no one even gave him a passing glance.
Izuku thinks about that day every time he hits the gym, which he hasn’t done since the summer ended. Tenya invited him since they haven’t worked out together in so long and to relieve the stress from preparing for midterms. Izuku is grateful for the long-needed break, more things than just school have been putting strain on him.
Izuku is lying back doing bench presses, Tenya stands behind him, muscles tensed and ready to bring up the weight if Izuku gets stuck. It’s not very necessary, he’s lifting something relatively light since he hasn’t been to the gym in awhile, but he knows Iida wouldn’t let him do this without a spotter anyways.
He soon finishes his set, smiling softly to himself at the memory of that day with his mother. It’s still a bit embarrassing, showing up to your mothers “rescue” half-naked and having her frantically question where your boobs went, but he loves the memory all the same. His chest was considerably small before building up muscle, but boobs are boobs and that was a problem. Even if they were small, the possibility of someone clocking that he even had them was a fear.
Nowadays, he can lift up the end of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead without a care.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Tenya suddenly pipes up, handing Izuku a bottle of water.
“Yeah, man, shoot.” Izuku stands, gladly grabbing the refreshment and takes a huge swig.
“When did you get surgery? You were never absent from school or–”
Izuku chokes on the water and coughs roughly, spilling it down his face and shirt.
“Tenya!” he whispers harshly, though not angrily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “You can’t just ask someone that!”
Thank god it’s not packed in here.
“Oh,” his eyes widen and he quickly bows, almost bending himself completely over, “I’m so sorry, Midoriya-kun! I had no idea.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine! Please stand up, I’m not upset.” Izuku pats his friends back, coaxing him to straighten himself, and whispers, “Not everyone knows that, and some people do but ask anyway. It’s considered pretty offensive to ask a trans person if they’ve had any surgeries, if we weren’t friends I’d definitely have some choice words for you, man.”
“I see, I will refrain from asking things like that. I hope I didn’t offend you.” Tenya adds more weights to the bar, still looking a bit ashamed of himself for asking.
“Don’t worry, it’s cool!” Izuku smiles and motions to Tenya to lay on the bench before situating himself behind the headrest, holding his arms out under the bar, “But to answer your question: No, I haven’t had any surgeries yet. I am on a waiting list, though.”
He’s been on this waiting list for over a year now, sometimes his mother calls to tell him if he’s gone up on it, but it’s unlikely that a spot will open up for him anytime soon.
“Won’t you lose the muscle definition in your chest if you get that procedure done?” Tenya asks from below, lowering the weight to his chest.
“There’s other surgeries besides a mastectomy, dude.” he smiles down at his friend, who continues to lift the bar up and down.
“Hm… I will have to do research, then.”
“T-That’s really not necessary–”
“What if I get a patient that’s transgender? I need to see how these surgeries could affect my clients mobility and how it could change how their bodies work,” Tenya breathes out, lifting the bar up and onto the rack, finishing his set. He sits up and looks back at Izuku, “I don’t want to give them inadequate treatment compared to their cis counterparts.”
Izuku breaks into a wide smile, “Research away, then!”
Izuku sits in the passenger seat of Tenya’s car, driving from their college's gym to the dormitories. Tenya turns into the parking lot of Izuku’s dorm and stops the car in front of the entrance, Izuku begins to gather his gym bag and unbuckle his seat belt.
“Thanks for driving me back to the dorm, you really didn’t have to though!” he says as he opens the passenger side door and gets out. Izuku doesn’t shut the door yet, instead leaning down to peer inside the car as his friend replies.
“Nonsense, it was no trouble and it was on the way.”
“If you say so!” Izuku smiles gratefully and lets out a content sigh “I missed doing this with you, when should we workout together again?”
“Hm, perhaps after the midterm? Exercising will help with the stress of not knowing what our test results are.” Tenya suggests as he rolls down the driver side window, “Come over here, it's dangerous for you to stand in the road like that.”
Izuku nods and shuts the door, jogging a little to the driver side of the car. He slings his bag over his back, holding onto the straps with one hand, and bends down slightly to continue his conversation.
“Oh, true! Yeah, we should definitely do it before getting our scores back. I’d rather be sweating bullets by lifting than by worrying.”
“Alright then! I need to get going now, but I will message you to finalize our plans.”
“Okay, see ya later!” Izuku steps back from the car and waves goodbye as Tenya drives away towards his own dorm building.
He’s so glad Tenya invited him to work out together again, it seems as if all the stress he’s been feeling this past month has all melted away and he’s left feeling all nice and floaty.
Izuku turns on his heel and walks towards the entrance, swiping his keycard against the door sensor before walking inside. He could take the stairs but he doesn’t want to overwork the muscles in his legs, opting to take the small elevator up to his floor. After waiting a bit for the elevator to open he steps inside the box and presses the button for the second floor, leaning against the elevator wall as the doors slide shut.
He’s been thinking about what Ochaco said these past few days… It’s weird. More than weird, actually. It feels gross to think about: how Katsuki had suddenly decided to use Izuku’s entire existence against himself. It was always how Izuku was a nerd, useless, weak… never about that . Not even Katsuki’s lackeys brought that up as a way to try to torment him, which was strange considering Izuku had overheard them ragging on others for being gay several times.
So there had to be a real reason for Katsuki truly turning on him out of nowhere. Izuku needs to know but…
Is it really worth it? Facing Katsuki again? After all these years?
The elevator doors ding open.
Well, speak of the devil. Izuku sighs a bit when he exits the elevator, being met with the sight of the tall blonde crouching beside Izuku’s room door. Looks like Katsuki decided to drop off another letter.
Izuku calmly walks over.
“You don’t need to do that anymore.” he says softly, still feeling light and a bit tired from his workout, stopping a few feet away from Katsuki.
The man that was once crouched beside his door stands straight up, spinning around to face Izuku and looking mortified from being caught red-handed.
Izuku moves to his door, causing his childhood friend to step out of the way, and begins to unlock it.
“I’m thinking it over, so stop giving me letters.” Izuku tells him as he steps inside, taking one last look at Katsuki from behind the door, “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Katsuki croaks out, eyes still a bit wide and the tips of his ears pink.
Izuku nods and shuts the door.
