●~Not All There Anymore~● |BEING REWRITTEN|

|13| A Place To Call (Temporary) Home

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Izuku's POV

Izuku stared out the window next to his bed, watching the birds in the tree almost directly in front of his window. It was so different than what he usually saw looking out his window. Then again, this was a hospital. Not an abandoned apartment or neighborhood.

A small nest woven from twigs and mud housed a single blue bird, the beak a light gray and feathers a mix between pale and dark blue.

An untouched plate of hospital food sat on the bedside table, and the television played some kind of cartoon Izuku wasn't paying attention to. Didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now.

Stop thinking like that, he scolded himself. But it wasn't like he was happy. All Izuku wanted was to go back to the apartment building and ignore the world around him, including his problems. He wanted to put on a smile and ignore the graveyard only a mile and a half away and text his best friend and be happy when it wasn't real. And now it sounded like something he didn't want.

Izuku sighed and stared at his thighs. Gone were the legs. They had been reduced to stubs that ended only a few inches above where his knee should be. Izuku stared at them and the stubs seemed to stare back. Beeping filled the room and caused white static to crackle in his ears. His eyes blurred but were completed dry. The cold air blew against his lips, drying them out and cracking the skin. Bandages felt like they were slowly peeling off his face, his arms, everywhere. His head pounded. The smell of antiseptic and chemicals filled his senses, overwhelming them.

And the nurses thought he would want to touch stale food that looked like it had come from a dog food processor? He doesn't care if he's malnourished and low in nutrients. Izuku's not touching that.

He sat back with another sigh and forced his gaze away from his stub thighs. The door was the only other place to stare. The bedside table housed food and a vase of nearly dead flowers Present Mic had left. He didn't want to look at them.

So staring at a door that refused to open it is. The noise of beeping and the T.V crackled and faded and became like the chatter you would hear in a cafeteria. Where there's so much noise and it's so loud that it all blurs together and fades into the background and you can't hear anything but gibberish.

Except that's what his entire brain felt like.

Izuku continued to emotionlessly stare at the door for what felt like an entire day and a half, when in all reality it was about an hour. Time faded in and out of existence. Colors blurred. His mouth was dry, but he didn't want the water on the table. It would taste nasty and he would spit it out. That would mean making a mess. He didn't want to bother anyone.

And exactly five minutes after nine o'clock AM, the door opened to reveal Shouta Aizawa walking through the door, form slouched and his hands stuffed into pockets. Izuku immediately lit up, his eyes regaining a bit of their sparkle at the sight of his homeroom teacher. Aizawa gave an almost half smile and sat down on one of the two chairs that had been there since day one.

Izuku shyly waved his still bandages hand at the black haired man. "Hi Mr. Aizawa. Where's Present Mic sensei?" Shouta shrugged, grunting in response.

"Downstairs getting snacks. The food here is atrocious." Izuku bit back a comment to call his teacher's clothes atrocious. He wasn't in the mood to start another sass war. So he simply nodded. And this meant Aizawa noticed the untouched food and scowled disapprovingly at his student.