𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙨 ; SHINDEKU

𝟑

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, pushing my phone up to my ear, listening as the voice from the other end of the phone spoke.

"I'm not sure."  She spoke. "I don't know."

"I know he's doing something, but I'm too scared to ask him." I said, walking down the sidewalk, my book bag pulling my other shoulder down, as I tried to find something in the pocket.

"What do you think he's doing Ochako?" She asked.

"I think he's cheating or something." I said, swelling the lump in my throat.

"I don't think that's what it is."

"How would you know Ash?" I asked, sighing, frustrated with the bag.

"My house at nine." She said, giving me zero context.

"What-" I said, before the phone beeped and the call ended.

"God dammit." I muttered.

I didn't know what to do, I couldn't find my ear buds and it was a hot day.

I knew she was having a party or something, but why would I go, I have shit to do.

I wasn't too sure if he was cheating or something else, I was too scared to think on it.

A breath escaped past my lips as I looked ahead of me, seeing the shop where he worked.

"Fine." I muttered to myself.

I walked into the shop and saw Izuku working at the counter, fiddling with papers boredly.

He looked up and gave me a small smile.

I smiled back.

𝟗:𝟏𝟒

My worn out shoes, having them since eighth grade, clapped against the sidewalk as I approached the door.

It seemed as if I had worked a sweat up just by reaching for the doorknob.

For a party, of some sort, it sure was quiet from the outside.

I walked in, holding my breath, the smell of alcohol and smoke greeting me with a slap on the face.

My breath hitched, no longer holding steady, as I coughed.

"Ochako! Welcome!" I heard a familiar voice pull me from the foggy state I was thrown in.

"Hey." I said, clearing my throat.

"Why am I here?" I asked, quirking my head to the right slightly.

She smiled.

"There's someone I think you should meet." She said, smiling.

"Who is it?" I asked, a small smile on my lips.

"She's..." She paused. "She's someone." She smiled.

I furrowed my brows and blinked.

"What?" I asked, as she dragged my arm behind her.

"Trust me!" She yelled from ahead of me.

Nearly tripping over my laces, I begrudgingly followed her as we wove threw the small crowds.

We came to a small couch, under a dim lamp, where a woman sat, legs crossed, cup in hand.