Iida was bolting with his engine thrumming behind his calves, the warper was talking nonsensically in the background. In the separate zones we could hear large booms and crackles of electricity and new heated explosions, below us were the grunts and punches from Hand Man, small-time villains, and Eraser Head. I was sweating and unharmed and feeling pathetic. What the hell was I thinking? Joining the hero course just to leave annoying class C and abandoning Hitoshi, I should've just become a de-
Gravity Girl's arm shot out with a loud "Careful, Iida!" as the warper almost whisked him away, more ground overtaken by the enemy. The gravitational pull was growing and growling and forcing Iida to a slow until he was being pulled by invisible arms and claws, being submerged sluggishly into the swamp of uncertainty. I could feel my shoes grating sorely against the ground and rubbing gradually towards the source, my socks dampening with sweat as well as my forehead and underarms.
In a flash I felt the pit in my stomach return as the world halted. My head was numb, but my body felt opportunity till my arm met the hard surface of smooth and metal armour. Apparently I was dragging Iida out of the currently stiff portal; I could feel the wispy bits snap like brittle cords of string as my shoulders brushed and crackled along them. It would've been nice if my body warned me what it was doing but it just soldiered on however it pleased in the moments of panic, confusing me further. Iida's face was a frozen portrait of desperation and determination, sweat frozen and clouded over his brows and down his cheeks, eyebrows pulled in and mouth in a tight line. His glasses were knocked off angle and fogged like they wanted to jump away to safety, a feeling all of us here could kindly resound and relate to, taking over our rational minds. It was weird. There was so much happening, and I have so much power over it all, yet I felt so powerless, I was only provoked into action by nearly losing Iida, one of the few beacons of hope we could use right now. Did I even take action for me and my own sense of guilt or because I knew it was the right thing to do? I can't answer that, it was my body that acted, not my mind. With my quirk, I pried him out of the warp gate and struggled to take the odd shape over to the automatic doors of the US.J.S's entrance, pushing between miscellaneous scrapes of damage and a large tear through the steel door and almost successfully escaping. Iida's body got jammed between the sharp, flaky metals, a high-pitched screech would've screamed in my ears had I been in Play as I yanked and pulled his statue-like body outside of the U.S.J., cool fluid building on my skin from the workout. I usually do mind and quirk training, not weight lifting or people-dragging.
Finally, one last step and Iida was a safe enough distance away from the paused battle, he still looked dead set, an overbearing and amazing quality of his.
After setting Iida up outside of the facility, I squished back through and into the messy picture before me. I scanned the scene greedily, eyes hungry for trouble to toy with in the free time I allowed myself. So much free time, spare time, all the time in the world perhaps, yet everything is so fast-paced and rushed, and these hurrying actions blur all thoughts. It's like watching in tunnel vision; so much light limited to so little, everything there is elongated and echoing about, halfway through you can just go back the same distance to the same old places or go further and explore to find just the same. I prefer going over hills and mountains rather than through tunnels, there's always a catch with shortcuts. There're so many opportunities missed.
Between the blistering thoughts, my famished eyes were fed. I sped downwards, locked onto the trail of glistening, molten, rubies and bare flesh seeping with juices and the small droplets finding their way to the earth to soak and simmer in the heat of the ongoing moment. Like a freeze frame for a now moment.
Before I know it, I'm staring directly into the face of Hand Man, my canvas filled with creases and cracks, wrinkles, a scar etched into and out of his top lip, a wart or even beauty spot residing not too far away, all just visible from behind the ghostly-blue hand keeping his face twisted menacingly. Get some moisturizer, seriously. He was dreadful. Dilapidated. Decrepit. His eye... It looked like it was looking at me, red lines from sleepless nights creeping around his even redder irides, the bloody colour absorbing his shrunken and focused pupils homed onto mine. I was frozen again, locked and latched, limbs lagging lowly and lazily as my heart slowed and sped suspiciously in my thrumming chest, throat bobbing with silent babbles and soundless speech. My hand wobbled out and touched his, the one masquerading as a mask upon the villain's face.
It felt sad. Looked lonely. Smelled like death.
YOU ARE READING
This Ain't Good
Fanfiction[[ officially discontinued, final chapter for more]] Midoriya Izuku, a struggling teenager with too many voices in his head and not enough friends outside of it, has to sneak through his schooling at the prestigious Yuuei and try stay out of trouble...
