Neutrality Order (TomBoo)

L.R. - Chapter 4

Tommy was thankful not even Aizawa asked why he fell asleep for hours after class at his desk or batted an eye when he said he needed a mental health day after.

He spent that mental health day at his mother's house, away from his computer in his dorm room and leaving his phone off as he stayed curled up on the couch for most of the day, only getting up for the bathroom or something to drink. Keeping his brain turned off was all he wanted for the time being.

Possibly power-washing his brain of yesterday's incident was a close second, but short of asking Purpled a big and potentially backfiring favor, he wouldn't know-how.

He didn't know what time it was that he got so hungry he forced himself up and rummaged around for something easy to eat, and was thankful when he found some cup ramen in the cabinet. While waiting for water to boil, he went to check the mail and found a couple of things, including a small shipping envelope, addressed to himself. It didn't occur to him that it could be anything nefarious; he was too hungry and drained to even think properly. He put his mother's mail on the coffee table and opened the envelope.

Ice enveloped his spine when inside, he found his pocket notebook.

Tommy almost dropped the whole thing as he dove back to lock the door and then check every window, seeing nothing suspicious anyway before he finally got it in his mind to calm down and THINK.

Ranboo wasn't idiot enough to go to a pro-hero-in-training's house, especially an apartment complex with plenty of witnesses. And the envelope had been mailed, with the postage stamp being proof. Thoughtful to have it returned, but still insanely creepy that Ranboo knew his address.

Was this a threat? Tommy thought to himself, chewing his bottom lip to oblivion as he stared at his notebook, unharmed and none worse for wear, before opening it to make sure nothing was torn out.

Instead, he found notes written within his notes in the margins with red ink.

Tommy sat at the table, going back and staring at the cover page.

STUPID OBSERVATIONS FROM AN OBLIVIOUS NERD

He scowled. Jerk. He turned the page from there, seeing more notes jotted down between the ramblings of his own from his classmates' usernames ranging from the original usage of DISCOUNT PIKACHU for Fundy to TINY DICK SYNDROME under Wilbur (okay, that actually made him snort).

It shifted to the page of his 2 am musings on the age-old question of if he punches himself and knocks himself out, does it mean that he is weak or strong (NEITHER, DIPSHIT, IT MEANS YOU'RE AN IDIOT), to if Aizawa used his quirk on Tina if she would appear (ACTUALLY A GOOD QUESTION, TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR), and sifting to ideas of one's personality manifesting from one's quirk (PRETTY SURE TINY DICK SYNDROME'S PROBLEM IS ACTUAL TINY DICK SYNDROME).

He moved on to his log of by-date serious injuries (JFC HOW ARE YOU EVEN STILL FUNCTIONING!?) and exercise routines (YOUR FOOTWORK SUCKS, TRY DDR), down about the last page about updated hero gear (DITCH THE BUNNY EARS, YOU LOOK LIKE SHIT), and then noticed that there were red ink blots from behind the back of the adjacent empty page. He frowned, fingers twitching before he turned and found an actual note.

IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A NAIVE FANBOY LITTLE SHIT, I'D HAVE EMPLOYED YOU AS OUR INFORMANT. SADLY, YOUR OBSESSION WITH SOCIETY'S TRASH HEAP ONLY MAKES YOU FUTURE TRASH TO TAKE OUT IN THE FUTURE, STAIN'S IDIOTIC HIGH HOPES FOR YOUR FUTURE OR NOT. STILL, I HAVEN'T DECIDED IF I'LL KILL YOU OR NOT THOUGH.

ALSO, I KNOW WHEN MAIL RUNS THROUGH YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD, SO I KNOW WHEN YOU'LL BE READING THIS. CORUSCANT PARK AT SIX. BE LATE OR BRING SOMEONE AT YOUR OWN PERIL.