The Stray

Part 16 - Stretching His Legs

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Izuku needs some growth. Right now, as it was pointed out to me, he is overly reliant on Aizawa, and while that's cute and all, my Izuku is a naturally independent boy. He can't constantly use good old Shouta as a crutch. He needs to branch out some, stretch his wings a bit, and since Izuku is a smart boy, he recognizes the need for a healthy balance.

Also, I kind of lost track, and have NO CLUE what time of year it is any more.  Oh well . . .

~ Nezumi

Stretching His Legs

Shouta was great. He tolerated and even wanted me around and gave me a place to call home and people to call family, and, everything was great all around.

Or, things should be great.

But they weren't.

Why was that? Well, I was . . . feeling suffocated. I'm surprised I didn't recognize the sensation earlier. I honestly can't recall, in the past week, when I willingly left the kind man's side.

I had gone everywhere with him.

The store.

The kitchen.

His rooms.

Everywhere.

An outside lens would immediately characterize it as disturbing and alarming. It wasn't natural, and it sure wasn't healthy.

I was aware enough to know that nothing was healthy in extremes. Too many carrots turn your skin orange, too much candy would make you sick, too much exercise could have a person collapsing, and not enough would have them wither away.

I had, at some point, drifted away from my healthy balance in the middle and landed somewhere far in the left field.

It was no wonder I felt stifled and jittery. I hadn't gone outside by myself in ages-- something I was accustomed to doing daily,-- I hadn't run or played off any excess energy for who knows how long, and add on top of all that just sticking solidly to the side of one person for days?

I would be the first to admit I adored the kind man, but even I couldn't spend that long with another person without going stir-crazy. I was honestly surprised Shouta hadn't forcibly removed me or shoved me off onto Hizashi or something. Surely my clinging had to be getting to him as well.

So I tried not to ponder it too hard as I slapped a sticky note to the door as I slipped on my ragged red shoes.

I pointedly ignored the nagging pull to just settle myself back down in my nest of blankets and forget completely about this idea of independence.

I shut up the voice and shoved it into a dusty corner at the very back of my brain.

This was as much for the kind man as it was for me.

It was noon and Shouta was still passed out on his bed from his late-night patrol duty, sleeping readily since he didn't have to go teach on Sundays. He wouldn't even notice I was gone until he woke up around five in the afternoon.

I pulled open the door, careful not to let the hinges whine, and slipped out into the sun-warmed air.

It wasn't chilly out at all and I soon found my back feeling warm as I walked away from the sun. My very bones sang in exhalation at this, having missed the sensation of the wind brushing at my nape, the sun at my back, and the world sprawling around me.