Izuku's Three

weak weak weak

Each morning in the dorms, Izuku found himself waking up later and later to avoid breakfast. Excuses easily rolled off his lips like liquid fools gold, only to be met with worried glances here and then. 

But he didn't notice nor was he worried. 

He was convinced that they had finally followed him to the dorms and were lurking around the corner, ready to poison his food at the most opportune time. 

But at least they had left his mother alone. 

She's still sick, reminded number Three. 

But I'll make her better. Izuku responded, a determined glint in his eye as he progressed down the dorms and to the common room. 

A sense of urgency licked at his bones as he thought of his mother. How tired and frail she had looked last time they saw each other. He glanced to the kitchen of the dorms, feeling a sense of nausea crash into him. 

The mere smell of breakfast foods was enough to make him want to vomit. 

So instead, he decided to spend his morning training in Ground Beta and looking for keys. 

He was getting close, he could feel it. 

But he also felt a sore sense of foreboding enter his bloodstream, causing him to nervously scratch at his right hand. Quickly, he scurried out of the common room area before he could be spotted and forced to endure a group morning routine. 

He felt as if eyes were tracking his very move suddenly. Like he was a muse to the world. 

And then, once he reached the front door, the feeling intensified, nearly becoming a crippling force. But he held on, using his wobbly legs and fatigued willpower to begin his training regimine. 

You're getting weaker, number One spoke up as Midoriya finished up his first lap around the gym, breath coming out shakily. 

Shut up. Midoriya retorted, though he was worried that the voice would be correct. Midoriya was feeling tired and achy. He felt the air around him become heavy and thick. And the eyes still remained glued to his neck and back, setting him even further on edge than normal. Multiple times he had looked over his shoulder, scouted the doors, and creeped around equipment to ensure that he was alone. 

Sometimes the sound of a pen dropping or a clink clink clinking made shivers run down his spine. 

Someone's there. But no one ever was.