Cleithrophobia

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Shoto's been very quiet. Not that he was the most talkative sibling before this tragedy. But his silence was unnerving. Between the checkup, breakfast, and rest with his family he hasn't really spoken.

He was in his room with Katsuki, Izuku, Ryoma and Mitsuki. His pro hero family called to a meeting concerning the scientists involved. Shoto laid in bed staring at the wall with a blank expression. Izuku sat on the bed watching TV while Katsuki watched as well still in his wheelchair. His legs were fine, yet the doctors wanted as little strain on their bodies as possible. Suddenly Shoto sat up to Mitsuki's notice.

"You need something kid?" She as he turned to stand up.

His voice was empty and quiet, not meeting her gaze. "I need the bathroom."

She replied with a quiet okay before sitting up to help him stand leading him to toilet in the room. He did his business while Mitsuki stood almost guard like outside the door while watching Izuku and Katsuki keep their stares on the TV.

The light in the bathroom was quite dim, not due to the infrastructure. Just a bad light that needed to be changed. Shoto washed his hands then turned the water low, accidentally letting the drops splash quietly into the sink.

He stood there in the dim room, his mind was empty waiting to be filled with something, anything. Shoto glanced at the door it was closed.

A closed door.

He sat on the toilet cover facing the door. Just listening. The light's soft hum. The dripping water, in that dim room.

Soft hum.

Dripping water.

Closed bathroom door

Soft hum.

Dripping water.

Closed bathroom door.

Loud buzzing.

Dripping blood.

Locked steel door.

Maddening buzz.

Choking breaths.

Katsuki's dripping blood.

Whimpering sounds from Izuku's sewn lips.

Impending steps beyond the steel door.

Keys clanking gear in that immovable steel door.

The sour smell of blood.

Drip. Drip.

The blonde's dead eyes.

His breath was gone.

Izuku's struggled.

You laid unmoved and cold.

Dead inside.

Dying outside.

Dead.

Drip. Drip.

Dying.

You were all dying.

He could see it.

He could smell it.

He could feel it.

Drip. Drip.

Feel his fingers turn numb.

His throat turn cold.

It was scary.

Scared.

Fear.

He was afraid.

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