𝖰𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗄: 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡

Mochi

It has been a couple of days since you had moved in, and in all honesty the whole ordeal was thrilling, scary, exciting, and amazing all at once.

All in all, probably the best thing to ever happen to you.

You were still doing your best to keep up with the dramatic change, everything was so different compared to the facilities. You had so much freedom, so many things to do, and best of all...

You weren't being hurt by anyone.

47 was living with you now, worried for your own safety and there to help you along. He knew it was going to be rough, but he had stuck with you this far...

It was taking him a while to adapt as well; to adapt to each other.
The male was now officially living with you, taking the second bedroom in the house. Your rooms were across one another, so if anything happened he'd be at your side in a heartbeat.

He had only worn his uniform... even around the house. It was odd, but you didn't say anything because he was technically always doing his job to protect you.
When you first moved in, your bedroom was already filled with different clothes to wear—Aizawa admitting that he told 47 to buy them for you, using your school uniform as a size reference.

Which makes sense why it was missing in the first place.

It was Monday morning, and if you had to guess, around 6 am:
The week of the U.A Sports Festival.
You had woken up in cold sweats, a night terror once again keeping you from having a safe slumber.
Its been like this since you moved in; the consistant nightmares: some of Jack finding where you were hiding, some of 47 betraying you, and even a few with people you didn't recognize.

It wasn't that they were nightmares because you couldn't recognize the people in it...
It was because it all seemed so familiar, like you had been with these people before, lived with them, laughed with them.

But you couldn't remember who they were.

It gave you this haunting feeling, making your skin crawl and shiver, while your head throbbed—either trying its best to forget the dreams or trying to remember who these strangers were.

You needed a drink.

47's door was closed, so you assumed he was still fast asleep. Being the good roommate you are, you tiptoed your way down the hall and into the open area where your living room and kitchen sat, making sure not to disturb the sleep he could finally get.

The house you were in at times felt like a dream, it was large enough to explore and it was a little too nice for someone your age.

Opening the fridge with a groan, you pulled out one of the numerous coffee cans 47 bought in hopes of easing your nerves a little. Popping the can open, you slid yourself in one of the chairs seated at the island counter, immediately taking a large gulp of the slightly bitter liquid.

You could hear the hardwood floor creaking lowly, so you figured 47 was getting up for the morning. He usually did get up early, sometimes training in the backyard or taking a run—something you really had no interest in doing.

His door creaked open and you could make out his heavy footsteps, but you paid no mind, only continuing to sip on your cold drink.