Izuku was never the type to be approached–kindly or with care. He was just there to others, and to a few, just there to satisfy themselves by using him as a punching bag. ☆☆☆☆ December 18th. ☆☆☆☆

Izuku let out a sigh as he walked down the hallways with his yellow backpack slung over his shoulder. His red shoes squeaked to a stop when he noticed the crowded hall–his green eyes shifting to look slightly below to notice a fight going on.

Nervous, he simply went to a different route in the hallways to get to the cafeteria–arriving, getting his tray of lunch food, and sitting at a seat near a window. His baggy eyes drooped, vividly exposing his weary mood as he parted his chopsticks and ate alone in silence.