Green Innocence

18: Thorns

    Izuku found himself...almost inside a dream. Or perhaps, it was just that, a dream; it certainly felt like a dream.

    It wasn't like any other dream he'd had before, but then again when was the last time he ever truly had a dream? All else before was either darkness, some horrible reminder of his life, or just some distance memory that retained some semblance of light. What those memories, either genre, entailed...he couldn't recall. This dream was...odd.

     All his shy eyes could see was some strange water texture all across his mindscape. Ink, yes, it was as if he were staring at ink splotched upon a canvas, either that or some form of paint or watercolor. He could debate on whether or not it was colored, but it was hard to tell; aside from the white of the canvas, all he could see was a blue-ish, grey-ish, black-ish color overlapping others as it coated his world. It also, even more strangely enough, seemed to writhe and flow like water or mercury; it was thick, yet it seemed to glide smoothly across all he saw.

     Even more odd enough, he could touch it; he could feel it sift through his fingertips and feel it's cold bite against his skin. He couldn't breathe it in however, for despite being sunken inside of this inkly ocean his lungs felt filled with air. He also felt warm despite how chilling everything else around him was, and he felt dry in contrast to the obviously wet and soggy feeling sea about his person.

     All of which, the air the filled his body, and the warmth that pumped across his body, came from his torso....His breast...His heart. It thundered furiously against his chest, stamping in a circular motion akin to a tribesman hoping in front of a bonfire.

    It felt like his heart was about to break from his chest, but he was content despite this; Midoriya felt as though he had finally felt true fresh air enter his lungs. He felt...fulfilled almost. Yet, he wondered exactly why? How?

    His questions would only broaden, as within the staunching silence...her head an enigmatic hum echo in the world. Then again, a hum felt lackluster of a description, for it was more of a whisper that felt everywhere yet only a small ways behind him; the words, from what he could barely theorize to be, seemed even to form a prayer.

     But what he did think inside his head was two things: The voice was...familiar, and it's words sounded like it, despite him feeling as if he never knew them.

    "I...pr-y...th...rd...he...be...free.".

     Little time was given to dwell however, as that thundering in his chest had also made its weight grow heavy, and right before his very eyes he saw as the uncommon grey's an rare blacks grew more and more diverse. His back leading the charge as he faced towards what white was still left upo the canvas, he slowly sunk deeper and deeper into the ink. Scarce was his alarm however, he felt almost in awe as the values of the world changed and as the liquid slid across his person into the heavens above him.

     However, there was some semblance of bewilderment as he reached a grand point of darkness, where whatever white was left was but a sphere in the sky. As the watery substance rushed past him, he also felt it rush through him. Before, it seems, it was unnoticeable but as he sunk, and as the ink grew thicker, he could feel in his arms and his hands, his legs and his, heck even in his neck and his back, it was flowing through him like how juice is sucked through a straw.

    Just like most things, he had little time to focus on such an eerie feeling for as he finally breathed his last gasp he felt the firmness of the seabed collide against his back. Then again, he swore that he was somehow teleported to the seabed instead of landing on it, he never felt the rush of water leave his skin until now.