~ Third Person P.O.V ~

Everywhere he went.

Every step he took.

Every breath that flowed past his lips.

Hell, even when he took a piss, Izuku was being watched. There was just no escaping it, everyone, on Base at least kept a close eye on the small Japanese-American. Shoto and Katsuki followed him everywhere, as to be expected, giving him little to no privacy whatsoever. The only downtime he would ever receive was late at night-- the two would drop him off at the tiny room, lock the doors, and come back hours later.

Abandoning him to attend to his abundance of emotions built up since the start of his exhausting, drawn-out days. And so he'd sit on one of the two beds when they left, remaining unmoving, face sunken and desultory as he allows himself to dwell on this entire ordeal.

So far, they haven't made him do anything-- the only thing that consists of Izuku's day is accompanying Shoto and Katsuki on their daily tasks, getting poked fun of by the other soldiers, then coming back here. Uneventful yet eventful at the same time.

The curly-haired male was . . . conflicted on how to feel at times, to say the least.

Over the course of the past week, he's cried enough tears to fill about ten bathtubs, yet yelled so much at the blond and duel haired male so much his voice had gone hoarse. He just didn't know how to feel anymore. His emotions were so out of whack like he had a faulty wire in his brain that made him susceptible to either over-- or underreacting to the tinest of things.

Was that even a real thing?

If his mother were here she'd know what to do. Inko would give him a big smile, tell him it would be okay and that growing up meant that you wouldn't know what to do, think, or feel at times. That it was all going to be okay. That she loved him.

When the door slammed open with a raucous bang, Izuku jolted in his seat-- viridescent eyes widening as he took in two stoic faced men. One of them sported heavy bags underneath his lavender eyes, matching hair tamed back into a low ponytail; he was lean, yet clearly muscled. The other was just the same, physique wise that is, short, blond hair fanning over his unsettling blue eyes.

'Creepy . . .' Izuku shuddered as he continued to look at the blond.

"Get up!" The blond barked, making his way over to Izuku and hoisting the boy onto his feet by the collar of his shirt.

The other male gently grabbed onto Izuku's arm, leading the younger out into the damp, sultry night air. He appeared to be beyond exhausted, hooded eyes look forward as he and the blond dragged Izuku down a dirt path.

"Where are we going?" Izuku piped up, his stomach flipping in knots as he eyed both men suspiciously. As far as he was concerned Shoto and Katsuki were supposed to escort him everywhere.

"Shut up and keep walking," The blond replied, digging his finger into Izuku's side.

Izuku compressed his eye into thin slits, adrenaline coursing through his veins as his mind began racing a hundred miles a minute-- going from the most reasonable explanations to the craziest. Again, per usual, soldiers ogled him up and down as they walked down the path; some with neutral expressions, and others more dark and menacing. Which assuredly wasn't aiding the Japanese-American in calming his spiking nerves.

After a few more moments of walking, the three approached a tent, a very large one at that. Indistinct voices echoed out of the dirtied fabric of the tent, barely scathing past Izuku's ears as he strained to listen for at least one he recognized.

"--that's a stupid fucking idea!" Izuku almost instantaneously identified that rasped voice as Katsuki's. "Have you seen the guy? He can fit in my fucking pocket, he's tiny as hell!"

'They're clearly talking about me . . .' Izuku huffed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Yeah Cap' I don't know how smart that'd be on our part, I get that when we intercept Japanese comms he can translate but . . . training him? He all skin and bones," Another voice piped up, one that Izuku didn't recognize.

"They'll eat him up alive out there Captain," Shoto heaved a sigh, "You know how everyone else feels about us having him here, you give them one chance to train him and they'll end up killing the poor kid."

"Then claim it was 'accidental'," Katsuki scoffed.

By now the three had entered the tent, stealthily might Izuku add, none of them saying a word as everyone else continued to discuss the matter at hand. If the curly-haired boy were being truthful, none of this sounded too appealing to him. Hell, he didn't even want to be here in the first place-- let alone get trained.

Didn't he at least get a say in something?

Frustration mounted up and churned at Izuku's insides as he quietly listened to the men talk, scoffing under his breath at a few jabs made towards him. Finally, after minutes of having to listen to their talking-- Izuku spoke up.

"And why the hell do I have to be trained?" He asked, voice loud and clear with each syllable. By now, his fear of the men had begun to disappear-- he'd learned that he was an asset to them . . . they needed him alive.

All eyes were gazing upon him now, again, some remained neutral and other more sinister.

Without answering the boy's question, Aizawa's cold, dulled eyes drilled into Izuku's as he spoke. "Todoroki . . . you will train him starting tomorrow."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The duel haired man grumbled and complained under his breath that morning as he woke up. Muted, and faint commotion slowly commencing to bubble up outside as the sun barely licked over the horizon. Katsuki had awakened hours ago, his bed still disheveled silhouette imprint of where he once laid denting the sheets on his bed.

Izuku was spawled in his respective spot on the floor, snores escaping past his rosy lips as his green curls adorned his face in a messy manner. Limbs stretched out in an odd, almost uncomfortable position as he slept.

He almost looked kind of cute to Shoto--

'Wait . . . no, no, bad-- very bad get your head in the game Shoto!' He berated himself, shaking his head as if it would do the same to his thoughts.

After his final boot was laced tightly, the duel haired man kicked Izuku's side-- successfully waking the now disoriented boy from his slumber.

"Get up, we have shit to do,"