Izuku found himself in the middle of a room quite unknown to himself. It was white and smelled like a mixture between plastic and disinfectants. His body was stiff and aching as if it had been through hell and back. 

He couldn't move around. His fingers wouldn't wiggle and his eyes remained heavy and closed. Izuku found himself trapped within his own body and it was startling. 

A sudden vision of his death rattled him to his core. Splashes of memories coated his mindscape as he relived the USJ villain attack. The cruel smiles of the cracking villain as he narrated his motives for wanting to take down All Might. The purple mist-like villain that used his quirk to forcefully rip apart every member of the class from one another. 

The dark entity with a bulging muscular system that nearly forced All Might into falling ill to his inferior form mid-battle. 

Izuku felt sick as he re-lived scenes flashing before him. 

It all felt too real after the adrenalin wore off. The white room in his mind bored into his life, as if mocking his inability to move. His liability to the heroics unit in general. 

He felt a conclusion form at the edge of his mind but attempted to push it away. He didn't want to just stand there. He didn't want to be still during a battle where everyone else was fighting rigorously. He didn't want to be useless and let anyone down. 

He wanted to be brave and cunning and resilient. He wanted to blast forward into battle and save the day.

Like…

Like Kacchan. 

Izuku felt his throat swell in a thickness that made his eyes burn. He wanted to cry but once again found his body dulled to the pain. 

The aches in his body became ever more prominent. And suddenly he didn't feel like reminiscing about his faults anymore. So instead he found himself relaxing into the pressure of unconsciousness.