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Reckless

Stars swam in his eyes as crystals exploded all around him. A shower of flickering lights shattered into nothingness. The monsters surrounding him howled in anger as he felled another one of their own. He was tired. Extremely so. His HP bar was yellow now, narrowing into a dangerous red, and yet.

Yet, he soldiered on. His mind a closed off tunnel, where all he could see and focus on, were the monsters he was slaying and nothing else. All he thought about was the next swing, the next target, the next kill.

Because, simply put, it was the only thing he knew how to do. Fight and fight some more until he was strong enough to stop being a burden to those around him.

He needed to do this, he needed to challenge himself again and again. For he swore that he would never be in need of saving ever again.

Kind green eyes and a nervous smile unwittingly flashed through the forefront of his mind, and he barely dodged the axed aimed right at his head. His vision was blurring and he knew he was approaching his limit.

A tiny part of him thought that maybe this would be a fitting end to his story. Maybe Shinsou Hitoshi was always meant to die like this. In some dark dungeon, trying to prove himself to the world.

He held onto the rapier in his grip like a lifeline. His fingers trembling with the effort to keep the weapon within his hold. Pain erupted in his side and he watched the red pixels seep into his body, chipping away at his very essence. Ducking away, he barely missed the next swipe of the monster's axe as it grazed his hair, having already gotten him once. He wasn't going to give the beast get him twice.

Red filled his gaze as another thread of pixels popped out of existence as he killed one more enemy. Three more spawned from an alcove, effectively surrounding him.

Idly, he wondered if this was really it. His body sways and he fights against the urge to pass out. His vision blaring with dark spots as he struggles to maintain his consciousness.

The last thing he sees before he passed out are crystals. Crystals and a sea of green.

_____________________________

The last thing Izuku expects to see while farming in a dungeon, is a semi-suicidal swordsman running himself to the ground.

One of his info-brokers had let it slip that people had been holed up in the dungeons for days. He didn't expect the rumors to be about just one person though.

He watches through widening eyes as the boy's HP drops to a critical red and his feet move before his mind can formulate a single thought.

Catching the boy before he falls to the ground, in fear of the last dregs of his HP trickling down to zero. Depositing him delicately to the ground he turns just in time to parry the hit aimed straight at him.

He twists and drives his sword into the monster's stomach, cutting the other in half simultaneously a moment later.

He makes quick work of getting rid of the dungeon dwellers. His body going through the motions automatically. He's been doing this alone for so long, it's almost second nature for him. He's been at it for months, after all.

All the while, his thoughts zero in on the crumbled figure tucked safely behind him. What was he doing out here alone? Did he have a death wish? Solo playing wasn't to be taken lightly. Letting one's HP drop so low was the height of recklessness. Something he shouldn't be doing to carelessly.

Feeling more than a little disgruntled, he thrust his sword into the last monster, vaguely satisfied as the popped out of existence.

Finally looking back at his new-found charge, he couldn't help but note the deceptive serenity he seemed to have fallen into in his forced sleep, a hood covers his most prominent features, making it hard for Izuku to really see his face. He looked peaceful though, innocently laying there. One wouldn't think he'd been fighting for his life a moment ago.

Crouching down, he bundled the teen into his arms, careful not to jostle him too much as he gave him one his fast acting healing potions. They were deep into the dungeons, getting out would take a few hours on a normal day. Let alone while taking care and protecting an incapacitated other.

Bracing himself for the journey ahead, he secured the boy on his back and got to work. The monsters down here wouldn't remain down for long.

__________________________________

Green, so much green it would've blended right into the trees swaying above them. If not for the all-consuming complexity he finds in those eyes, making it impossible for him to focus on anything else but the twisting emerald ocean that rested within the boy's gaze, drawing him into their depth.

Consciousness, however, creeps into his mind in spades. It takes him more than a moment to take note of himself and his position. He spends these few precious, entirely all too humiliating moments, staring unashamedly at the fae-like angel who looks down upon him in his dreams.

Except it wasn't a dream, and the reality of the matter crashed into him just as abruptly as it had drawn him in. The moment his brain catches onto the memo, he's already halfway across the field, having stumbled out of the boy's lap in a hurried daze, stumbling to his feet uncertainly as his mind draws a complete blank. His hood is still on, he knows. His lavender locks safely tucked away, a shadow falling over his eyes, protecting his identity from the world. Even so, he can't but feel horrifyingly exposed and vulnerable in that moment.

"What the hell." He says, mind once again drawing a blank.

"Oh, you're awake!" The boy exclaims, light shining in his eyes, confusing relief blatant in his gaze. "How are you feeling?"

"What the hell?" He repeats dumbly, confusing letting way to anger as he slowly comes to term with the fact that had been useless once again. He'd passed out in the dungeon. He remembers. He'd needed saving, again, by the same boy, no less. "How did I get here? Did you bring me out?"

"Yes, I did. You're HP was dangerously low, I couldn't just leave you for dead."

"You should have! I would have been fine!" He spat harshly, knowing fully well he wouldn't have been but too angry to make way for any rational thought. "I don't need you or anyone else to save me." He growled, voice low and tone in a slow, dark, drawl.

"If you keep fighting like this, you'll die." The teen said vehemently. Voice serious, eager to make him understand.

Too bad Shinsou already knew that.

"We're all going to die anyway, thousands of players have already died in a months and we haven't even cleared the first floor yet." Bitterness dripped from his every word. "It's not a matter of if we're going to die, it's a matter of how or when, and I intend to die fighting against this stupid game."

"You want to fight." The boy whispered in dawning realization. "You don't want to die, you want to clear the game, isn't that right?"

"Clearing the game? Don't make me laugh, no one is going to clear this hellhole. It's unbeatable."

"But you want to fight, don't you? Dying in some dark dungeon won't get you want."

"What do you suggest I do, then? Give up? Stop fighting, rot away with all the cowards slumming away their lives in the starting city."

"Join the front lines then, there's going to be a meeting tomorrow night."

"A meeting...?"

"Yes, some of the info brokers and the hidden beta player have organized a meeting of all the frontlines fighters, we're going to prepare the first raid in order to clear the first floor. Would you..." He faltered having lost his confidence now that his righteous bravado was gone. "Would you like to join?"

"I'll think about it." Shinsou muttered softly, feeling the weight of the last few day's grinding finally catch up to him.

He really was tired.