#1 - Life's Not Fair(Was It Ever?)

Burnt Out Fuse

Landing face first on the training mat for the thirty-first time in forty minutes was severely bruising Miyo's tiny ego. He tries to get up again, only to be pined down by his teacher's firm grip.

"It's time for you to go home. You're tired, groggy, and unfocused. Clean up, go home, and rest. I'll see you in homeroom tomorrow morning, problem child." Aizawa's dry voice bounces off of Miyo's ears, and his footsteps echo off the gym's walls, getting quieter and quieter until there's a creak and finally the door to the gym shuts with a slam.

Ao potters into the edge of Miyo's vision, the ghost hovers to the right side of the mat awkwardly. Miyo groans lowly as he forces himself to roll onto his back, sweat making his gym uniform stick uncomfortably to his skin. A shiver goes down his spine.

His... everything hurts. Aizawa didn't even sound winded when he was leaving.

A minute or two go by; Miyo stays stuck on the floor of the gym, his eyes closed, and his ragged breathing slowly evens out. His gym top is sticking to his skin, which is covered in a sheen of sweat, and his body feels as though it has been run through a wringer. Or, in other terms, he feels like he's been shoved inside a washing machine and dragged through hell and back.

He opens his eyes, gazing up at the blank ceiling above him. He blinks a few times, his ears catch a hurried set of foot steps outside the room, and the door opens behind him. He doesn't move to look at the intruder; he's too tired to do anything but blink lazily up at the ceiling rafters.

Footsteps become louder as they approach him; they block the lights over them, and blonde hair leans over his face. "You still alive, man? I seriously can't believe that you would willingly ask to be tortured by Aizawa."

Kaminari's concerned and gentle voice seemed out of place in the wide, echoing room. Miyo glanced up at Kaminari with a strained smile on his face, the smile falling once their eyes met and being replaced by a weary expression.

"Christ man, how are you even awake right now?" Kaminari wonders aloud while slipping his hands underneath Miyo's shoulders and carefully lifting him to sit up straight. Miyo sighed softly and muttered something about "the coffee he'd bought on his way to the gym earlier" and how "he'd drank water whenever Aizawa and him had stopped for short breaks."

Kaminari frowns, pealing Miyo's gym jacket off of him. "That was, like, ages ago, dude. It's just gone half past seven. I only came over here because I was leaving my chat with Mr. Yamada, and then Toshi texted me, saying that you hadn't called or gotten back home yet. I was starting to worry you had died or something."

All the blonde gets in response is a halfhearted grumble. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get you cleaned and changed. I'm gonna bring you home, and then Toshi can drag you through the dirt once I get out of the damage range."

Hands slide around Miyo's waist and hoist him up onto his feet. His head spins painfully, and he groans loudly.

"Sorry, Takei, come on. The sooner you're all sparkly, the faster we can get you home." Kaminari hooks an arm around Miyo's abdomen to support his weight, and the other hand holds Miyo's dirty gym jacket. Each step that Miyo takes is a struggle; his vision is becoming more and more fuzzy at the edges.

They enter the changing room; Kaminari leads him over to the wooden bench in front of Miyo's locker, and the blonde teen carefully drops the groggy Miyo onto the bench. The dirty jacket is tossed onto the floor, and Kaminari unlocks Miyo's locker once the other teen slurs out its pin.

Kaminari rummages around in Miyo's locker, eventually coming out with the spare set of clothing that had been messily shoved inside that morning. Kaminari slips off his own and Miyo's shoes and sets them aside, followed by their socks, so that he can try to wash the limp boy in the locker room showers. When he turns back to Miyo, the other teens' eyes are shut again.