The Unwilling Traitor

Chapter Eight - Worthless

Izuku had promised Kirishima that he would come back down to eat breakfast, but it is now Sunday and poor Izuku still hasn't eaten anything. Just the thought of food makes his stomach roll in protest. He feels as if he doesn't deserve the food, not after what he's done. What he's doing. No matter how hard he tries, Izuku can't wrap his head around this situation. Sure he knew that probably the most dangerous villain of all time has infiltrated the most prestigious hero school in all of Japan without so much as a flick of his finger. Sure he knew that if he so much as gave one little hint about the situation everyone that he loves will die. Sure he knew that if he tried to take matters into his own hands, his heart would be blown to smithereens and take his insides along with it into an untimely, painful death.

Sure, Izuku knew all these things, but it didn't seem . . . real. It's as if his whole world had been thrown into autopilot, and all he can do is watch from afar as the events play out before him. Everything he does is all according to some sort of plan, and he can do nothing about it. He isn't in control of his own life. Someone has thrust him from the drivers seat and into the back of the trunk, and all Izuku can do is sit in the cramped space and watch as someone other than himself takes him down paths that he would rather be left unexplored. All he can do is sit in the silence as the car veers off the main road and onto the gravel path. All he can do is sit, and be worthless. Worthless to all the people around him. Some hero he'd make. How can one be a hero, but cause acts of villainy at the same time? How can one become a hero, when they aren't even in control?

'Dang it Izuku shut up.' Izuku broke out of his self pity session and propped himself on his arm into a half plank position. Before, he was laying on his bed, stomach down with his bed buried into his pillow which blurred his eyes with the dark blue that were his sheet and pillow cover color. He had changed into a t-shirt and shorts but other than that, that was the only activity he's done since yesterday.

'I gotta eat something. Even if it is only a little bit. How can I preform my best at school tomorrow if I'm running on empty?'

Izuku groaned and pushed himself upward into a sitting position, but stopped there. Something didn't sit right with him. Something was . . . off. A sharp pain jutted itself through his chest.

"Eat something, little Izzy."

Izuku was jolted out of his sitting position and tripped onto the floor. The pain came again, but sharper this time.

"You seemed surprised. Did you really think that I would make a modification to receive your conversations, but not be able to have one myself?"

No. Izuku knew what was going on here. The transmitter on his cardiac muscle was also functioning as a walkie talkie. Dad was talking to him, and there was nothing he could do.

This was great. Just bitchin'.

"Shut up." Izuku grumbled. "Just leave me alone." And yet again, the pain came.

"Why would I leave my son alone when I just love him so much?"

"I'm your only son," Izuku pointed out, "and just for clarification, I hate you." More pain.

"Aww don't be like that."

Izuku ignored the raspy voice emoting from his chest. He ignored the pain screaming at him every time his dad dare uttered a word.

This all felt so fake to him. There was no way this could actually be happening, right? This was all an elaborate dream. Izuku is gonna wake up any moment in his bed to the sound of his mother calling to him from the bottom of the stairs. All he had to do was wait for that to happen. He was gonna be ok. Right? The pain would go away soon. It would leave. And he would be normal again. The pain would go away. The pain would go away. The pᴬiᴺ woᵁlᴰ ᴳo aᵂᴬᵞ.