Forget Me | i.midoriya

chapter 05

GREEK TRAGEDY

[RL/N] [T/N] WASN'T A HERO. She wasn't a morning person or a school person. Now that we mentioned it, she might not be normal at all. Some people might describe her as someone who has lived under a rock for years. Who knows? Maybe she has. After all, she did live under the mist of her name. She was one of a kind—but, she did have one thing that may be common, a thing common between most introverts: anxiety. Social anxiety.

Fierce (e/c) hues were bored on the flashing crimson numbers of the alarm clock. Were you really staring at the alarm? That's a mystery, maybe you were staring at death itself, hoping it may take you in that instant. Sadly, the world isn't that nice. "Argh." You cried—I've got to wake up—wake up—wake up, "I'm awake! I'm awake." You stirred your feet from under the mattress, feeling each bone, every tendon crack, and re-adjust. You slide down your bed to crash against the ground—great. You crawled over to the alarm that was somewhere between the room's disaster. You pressed your hand over the alarm hard, turning it off.

"8:26 am. 8:26 am..." Stupidly to be certain, the time kept on playing between your lips, wait—what time was homeroom meant to be...with a rush of wind you stood in front of your desk, holding class-1A's timetable amidst your fingers, papers actively flying behind you. Click. "A minute ago?—carp!"

The class timetable was sent to heaven along with the rest of the room's parchment. You snatched the uniform from the chair sitting in the middle of the room and closed the bathroom door. Expectant dread—this is it. Lessons were due to start 1 minute and six seconds ago and despite having previously prepared all necessary equipment for the day, you kept lacking of punctuality. Aizawa's glowing red eyes and floating hair were set to welcome you the moment you set foot inside that classroom.

"I'm such an idiot!" The door burst with disappointing yelps, hands tugging white long socks over your legs, roughly losing balance once or twice. "Shoes, I need shoes—the freaking tie, ah!" Making it over the black flats, you swung the already packed bag over your shoulders and rushed to the closest mirror, red tie in hand. First look at the mirror and you knew this was a futile mission, no way in hell were you about to become a genius and magically figure out how to tie a tie correctly on your first try. Decision made: you stuffed the red tie inside the school jacket's pocket and in the other one the dorm's keys. Before managing to exit the room, you pinpointed your dad's cap thrown inside the half-opened closet. No—it's stupid.