warning: content in here will vary drastically. storylines can range from mild to triggering. viewer discretion is advised
｡ : ° ஐ | | ｡ : ° ஐ
this is a one-shot after all.
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i used my japanese practice to do this :D ﾟ˚✧₊⁎( 𝒔l𝒊c𝒆 𝒓e𝒅 𝒓e𝒑e𝒂t )˚✧₊⁎ ｡
"𝓞𝓴 Bakugou. Are you sure you're fine alone here for a few hours?" Aizawa asked into the essentially deserted classroom.
"Yeah, whatever." Aizawa nodded. Collecting his items, he waved a farewell to the blonde. And scurried off towards wherever.
Katsuki rolled his eyes. He authorized his attention towards the computer network. Starting to type up his essay, he shifted between the search bar and the document.
"Shit, I need to get the footnotes for that piece of information." Opening another tab, Katsuki dug into his backpack gazing for his notebook with the website name on it.
Suddenly, he heard a ping. Glaring at the red pop-up that appeared on his screen. With a frown, he squinted his sights to read what it said.
あなたはそれが好きですか？ Do you like it?
Katsuki flickered his eye to the side. A weirded-out look attending on his expression. Slowly turning his head around to see if this was just a stupid joke by Kaminari.
Rolling his eyes, he clicked close on the ad as he continued forward. But then, it occurred again. This time, a childish voice surveying the text out loud.
あなたはそれが好きですか？ Do you like it?
"What..." Katsuki grunted. Going to his settings, he planned on deactivating pop-ups and muting his volume. When he discovered that his volume was turned off.
And pop-ups had been disabled.
He violently flinched when he heard that ping and voice again. The voice chimed so much louder. A deep echo pursuing with it as it rang through his ears.
あなたは赤い部屋が好きですか？ Do you like the red room?
The realization hit him like a truck. There was no other explanation.
This was a red room game.
The Red Room was a widespread urban legend in Japan. The game targeted essentially anyone. Many often didn't survive. But, there was a way.
Don't let the game get in your head
Katsuki's desk clung as he scrambled to the window. Struggling to pry it open, he fired an explosion. Nothing. Not even a mark. The door was latched, and even dissolving the lock didn't do anything.
