❝ 𝙉𝙤 𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 ❞ LONG HIATUS

: ̗̀➛RASHOMON

"It is painful for the plant which is myself to live in the atmosphere and light of this world. Somewhere an element is lacking which would permit me to continue."
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               Mist billowed through the trees and over the streets, backlit by the setting sun, and hung low in the air, masking the area in a ghostly gray. The world is cool, restful, and shady, with light filtering lazily through the treetops that meet high overhead and block out direct sunlight.

Midoriya tugged on his jacket and looked over to his two companions, Bakugo and Todoroki, who walked silently beside him. They haven't spoken since they walked out of the dorms, and Midoriya isn't sure when they will.

Aizawa requested that school be canceled. The teacher had observed his students' disconnection and decided to give them a few days off. Of course, with a little bribery for Nezu.

Taking advantage of this, the trio left the dorms early in the morning and traveled to Yokohama. They didn't care how far it was, they preferred walking to taking a bus or taxi.

Midoriya shivered as another cool breeze slapped him across the face. He chuckled slightly. "Don't you think it's a little chilly today?"

As expected, there was no response. Todoroki only gave him a light hum, while Bakugo whipped his head around to stare at Midoriya. Little lines of emotion on his face were hidden beneath sharp shadows under the glare of cinder dust and gloom light. His hair was unkempt, with wild, pale strands that appeared greasy. Those red eyes appeared to be carved out of ice, the coldest reality, yet its silhouette was so hazy.

Midoriya would guess that Bakugo haven't slept in days. The same goes to Todoroki.

Todoroki resembled Bakugo, with bags under his eyes and equally unkempt hair. His hair appeared to have faded into a dull color, and his eyes appeared much tired than usual. He was always dragging his arms around like sandbags.

And what about Midoriya? He was most likely the same as them.

In some ways, it's even worse. He's exhausted. For as long as he can remember, he's been tired. Something he can't really satisfy no matter how long he sleeps or how much he rests. His fatigue is simply constant. He realizes he needs to get up, eat some food for the first time in days, shower, and get to school. But it's difficult. It's difficult to get out of bed, eat, or do anything other than lie in bed. It's easier to sleep the days away until the guilt of self-isolation and ignoring everyone finally catches up with him and he puts on a uniform and fixes his hair to go to school and pretend he's fine for the audience. If he's lucky, he'll be able to stay awake for the majority of his classes. He was agitated, irritable, and tired, tired, tired. He's always been tired.