The Commission's Game

Claiming Beds

Monoma was oddly silent as he stalked the guard. The man looked to be in his mid thirties with a relatively slender build.

The blonde scowled at the back of his head, baring his teeth in obvious annoyance. How dare he be told to follow a guard like a lost puppy. But he'd rather be murdered than forced to follow the other people in his designated group. No, he wouldn't allow them the satisfaction of being in the front.

But alas, Monoma's superiority complex was ripping at his mind, tearing it into shreds as the guard before him struts down the hallway.

His group was silent, the only sound they made being their footsteps echoing around the seemingly endless hallway. Time folded quickly as they finally reached their dorm. The guard had only glanced at the three boys when he opened the door, motioning them in the room with an annoyed air. Monoma pressed his lips in a line to hold back the insults brimming his mind and throat.

Freakish tree looking wannabe.

Instead, he walked forward to enter first, wanting to scout out any possible vantage points he could claim.

There were none.

The room was relatively small, but fit three small beds in each of the free corners. A desk was by the side of each mattress, acting as both a nightstand and learning tool. The walls were a bland gray, curtains thin and scratchy looking. The floor was hardwood, albeit the fake looking kind. He could practically feel his feet get cold in the morning via such hard floors. He internally groaned. Monoma hated the cold with a passion.

There was a sleek window near the far wall.

I want that. Monoma registered the amazing view. He ignored his other two dormies and began making his way to the bed on the far left, next to the window.

Just then, he felt arms abruptly push him out of the way, causing him to stumble. Monoma corrected himself almost immediately before snapping his head up in a firm glare. Aoyama had catapulted himself at the bed Monoma was pining over, effectively claiming it.

Monoma grimaced,taking a deep breath. He was not going to be outdone by a Class 1A brat. It's fine, I'll just take the other one. He turned his body to the other bed near the window only to find Soda sitting on the edge. Monoma reached for the nearest item to throw at them, a sense of anger overtaking his core at watching his roommates smirk at one another. They planned this!

He gripped the handle of something before attempting to lift it, only to no avail. He looked down, impossibly more miffed at the whole situation, only to find that his hand was grasping a metal chair. He tried once more to lift it, this time more so out of blatant stubbornness.

He was not going to be outdone by a chair of all things. It was bad enough his roommates were utter trash. He made to yank the chair again before an uninterested voice spoke up.

"It's been weighted. You can't lift it." Monoma snapped his head up to glare at the guard. His face was red with anger.

The guard didn't bat an eye, instead opting to tell the group of three to become acquainted with their new environment before walking off. The door closed behind him with a soft click. Almost immediately, Monoma wanted to scream in outrage, but refused to make himself look weak under the eyes of Soda and Aoyama. He huffed before stalking to the furthest bed from the window.

He gave the bedpost a good kick before plopping down. Ignoring the small chatter from the other two teens, Monoma closed his eyes.

Shoji side eyed Midoriya from his seat on the bed he claimed. The green haired teen was still shaking, red faced yet pasty pale in color.

By the third coughing fit, Shoji broke his silence. "Midoriya, what's wrong?" This had been going on for too long.

The shorter teen jumped, nearly leaving his skin on the ground out of fright. "Wai--what?" He asked, voice elevated as he glanced around the room, eyes frantically searching for something before landing near Shoji.

The multi-armed teen's eyes narrowed as he noticed Midoriya's odd behavior and lack of eye contact. "Midoriya," he repeated more slowly, this time with an edge to his voice. "What is wrong with you?"

Midoriya gulped, arm twitching. "Ah that!--well I've been kinda sick recently. Mr. Aizawa pulled me aside a week ago and said my twitching was annoying him--but he did look concerned, so I think he was more worried but I'm not sure--anyways I went to RG--Recovery Girl--wait am I allowed to shorten her name? I mean we've gotten close since I'm in there a lot but I'm not sure if we are that close--I mean she's a UA teacher...and Pro-Hero! Gosh--oh my goodness, how can I be so stupid, they deserve respect not nicknames--but then again what if they want a nickname? I would want people to be comfortable--oh gosh, I'm rambling. Anyways, I went to Pro Hero: Recovery Girl and she checked me out and said I had a virus--but then after a week it didn't go away and her brows furrowed, which was interesting as a reaction--too detailed--oh gosh I'm bad at this!" Midoriya smacked his head with the palm of his hand groaning. But his raw, somewhat hoarse voice crackled before forcing the teen into yet another coughing fit.

Before the teen could recover and resume his ramble, Shoji spoke up. "So you're sick with a virus or something?"

Midoriya looked over his raised elbow, making strong eye-contact with Shoji before he nodded between coughs.

Shoji nodded to himself, "Did she give you medicine?" He stood up and began to pace slightly, feeling fidgety himself. He noticed Midoriya meekly mumbled an affirmative. "In your suitcase?"

Rustling was heard. "Yeah."

Shoji looked at the time, noticing how late it was getting. "It's getting late, but we have a couple hours before dinner. After that, who knows what's going to happen." Shoji mumbled, more to himself than Midoriya, who had finally calmed down. "I'm going to get some rest." He turned around only to see his roommate already sleeping peacefully under the covers. "Well that was fast."