WAKE UP
I SAID WAKE UP
Please
A pair of emerald-coloured eyes wearily tore open, and a soft murmur of faint recognition escaped the boy’s lips. They were chapped, and his tongue felt like sandpaper as he slowly licked them, his mouth dry as bone. Bags sagged underneath his eyelids, greedily tugging at his bloodshot eyes, hungry for sleep. He felt a yawn force its way into his lungs, and inhaled admittedly longer than usual. Lazily, he stretched, not nearly as enthusiastic as normal.
Outside, melodious birdsong drifted into the room, filling the air. Pale rays of sunlight streaked in through the curtain above Izuku’s bed, illuminating the room with almost magical presense of light. Izuku idly watched as his vision began to adjust, and miniscule particles of dust danced in front of his eyes, twirling as though they had put on a show for him alone. The thought caused the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards slightly, though the motion was gone as quickly as it came, as it was replaced with a sharp throbbing at the back of his head, like some little elf had crawled in and was knocking on his skull. He winced, closing his eyes tightly as though it would block the sensation out entirely.
It didn’t of course, but there was nothing he could do about it now, but take a painkiller.
His bones felt like lead, heavy weights tying him to the bed. An icy gust of air swept in and kissed the skin of his arms, causing a sea of goosebumps to trail up. Izuku blinked, suddenly very VERY much aware of the apparent absence of his usual mossy green blanket. He peeked over the edge of his mattress, and there spied a familiar bundle sprawled out over the floor, well within catapulting range. He must have kicked it off at some point during the night. Another nightmare.
Again.
He remembered back to but a few hours before, of jolting into conciousness, palms laced with sweat, gasping for air, heart pounding against his chest. A pit of anxiety and sheer terror pooled in his stomach, and an overwhelming sensation of dread crashed over him.
What had he dreamt about?
Just as many, many times before, all Izuku could remember before he awoke, was a wall of fire, descending upon him. Through the blackened smoke, a pair of eyes glared down at him, red, the colour of flames; he could feel them bore into his soul. They rooted him to the spot, rendering him paralysed. All he could do was stare in horror as the piercing gaze consumed him, the atmosphere so thick with intimidation that Izuku could feel it choking him.
He shuddered. It was a nightmare. That was all. A crease furrowed between his brow. Still…he could have sworn…a voice. Calling out to him. He hadn’t quite been able to make out what was being said, but there was an undeniable sense of familiarity about what he had heard. Almost like….seeing an old friend again, after such a long time.
He shook off the idea. There was no point dwelling on it for too long. Although…Izuku was certain he’d had this particular nightmare before. Perhaphs All Mighty Knight knew something about it….it could be a result of his training; Izuku had trained under his teacher for the for little under a year now, and was well on his way to becoming a true hero. He was going to become the Number One Hero in all the land! Although, there was a chance All Might had no idea, in which case…
Izuku was no soothsayer, but he had a prediction he’d deplete the library’s supply of dream-reading guidebooks by the end of the week either way.
He felt another yawn reach his throat, and rubbed his eyes vigorously, hoping the sleep-deprivation would magically disappear. It didn’t of course, but what good would a negative attitude do? He slowly begun his descent downstairs, greeted by the scent of bacon and eggs drifting through the air. His mouth began to water, and he hastened his pace.
He entered the living room, and his eyes landed on a plate loaded with the delicious nourishment. Sitting opposite the table was his mother, who’s eyes lit up as they met the gaze of her son’s.
“Izuku!” She beamed. “Good morning! I hope you slept well?” She stared a little longer at his paled face, and sighed. “Or not.” She pulled back her chair, the legs screeching against the wooden floor, and she collected her plate, carrying it over to the sink. Back turned, she shook her head gently.
“Nightmare?”
Greeted with no response, Inko turned back towards her son, worry contouring her face. “Again, Izuku?” She could feel her blood pressure rising. “Why haven’t you told Toshinori?”
“I would! I just don’t want him to…”
…‘to think I’m weak’, Izuku finished internally. It was irrational, really. But he didn’t like the thought of troubling his idol with something so…insignificant. What if All Might thought he was freaking out due to pressure to succeed? What if he decided to terminate their relationship entirely? That was the last thing Izuku wanted. He was treading on thin ice, especially considering last moth’s escapade, and the damage it had caused.