We Live in a Mad World

The trees seemed to blur together as they ran, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they desperately tried to outrun the shadows that pursued them. For as long as they could remeber, the triplets, Izuku, had been hunted, their quirklessness and omega made them a prize for those who sought to keep them or destroy them. 

Now, with the sound of feet thumping and the snapping of twigs growing louder with every passing moment, Izuku, Minoru, and Katsuki knew they had to keep running if they wanted to survuve, Their triple heartbeats punding out a singular rhythm: escape, escape, escape.

Izuku's breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale sharp and jagged like the knives that seared through his flesh moments ago. His legs pumped furiously beneath him, a futile attempt to escape the relentless ache that clung to his every movement. The sensation was all-consuming—a burning reminder of the pursuit, of the danger, of the desperation.

Katsuki, just a few strides ahead, grunted with each labored step, his usually unbreakable composure fractured by the intensity of his own suffering. He shot a glance over his shoulder, eyes blazing with both the fury of the chase and the pain that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Keep moving," he growled through clenched teeth, not so much an encouragement as a command born of survival instinct.

Minoru, splitting away from them with a pained grimace distorting his features, moved with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. Each stride was less about speed and more about maintaining balance, trying not to succumb to the throbbing wounds that marred his body.

The world around Izuku narrowed to a tunnel; the edges blurred with the rush of adrenaline and the singular focus on the hurt that screamed through his system. Pain was now a tangible entity, wrapping its cruel fingers around his limbs, squeezing until he thought he might buckle under the weight of it.

But he couldn't stop. Not when every fiber of his being pulsated with raw, unadulterated pain. It was a stark, unyielding truth: that's all they felt right now.

Izuku's chest heaved with each frantic breath, his legs propelling him forward on pure instinct. His mind raced almost as quickly as his heart, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. Not many know the cost of harboring secrets so heavy they anchor you to fear, secrets that force you to run when you should be standing firm.

His sneakers pounded against the pavement, an erratic rhythm that echoed in the otherwise silent night. He darted past streetlamps, their light casting long shadows that seemed to chase him just as relentlessly as his classmates.

Or not many try to understand, Izuku thought bitterly. They see the surface—three siblings with a bond, enduring the hardships of their quirks—but they don't look deeper. They don't see the pain hidden behind Katsuki's explosive temper or the strain in Minoru's laughter.

The sting of betrayal sat raw and heavy in Izuku's chest, wedged between heartbeats that were too quick to count. It wasn't just the physical pain that clawed at him; it was the realization that those they had trusted saw them as nothing more than targets. Maybe it was easier not to try, not to peer into the chasm that separated understanding from ignorance.

But now wasn't the time for such reflections. Now was the time to keep moving, to let the pain fuel his strides because if he stopped—if he allowed himself to succumb to the hurt—it would all be over.

Izuku's breath came in harsh gasps, his throat burning with the effort of drawing in air as he pushed himself forward. The night air was cool against the sweat that beaded on his forehead, but the chill did nothing to soothe the aches that throbbed through his body.

Katsuki was just ahead, cursing under his breath with every step, his usual fiery demeanor tempered by the urgency of their flight. Minoru limped at Izuku's side, wincing with each movement, trying to mask his pain behind gritted teeth.

"Keep going," Izuku panted, his voice barely above a whisper. They couldn't afford to slow down, not when every second counted. The sharp twinges that shot through his limbs with every stride spoke of bruises and scrapes—a testament to their rough escape—but he had to ignore them.

The sounds of pursuit were growing fainter, yet they dared not hope it meant safety. Not yet. Their classmates had turned on them, the very people they'd laughed with, studied with—fought alongside. Now, those same corridors where they'd walked shoulder to shoulder echoed with the memory of betrayal.

He could feel Katsuki's frustration simmering like a storm about to break, the anger at their vulnerability, at being hunted. Minoru's silence was even more telling; the jovial trickster subdued into solemnity by the gravity of their situation.

They were running away from more than just their classmates; they were fleeing from shattered trust and the stinging realization that their bond as triplets was perhaps the only one they could truly count on.

Blood seeped through the fabric of Izuku's uniform, droplets tracing a crimson path down his leg as he ran. The air was thick with tension, each breath he drew sharp and ragged. A quirk that could launch knives from thin air had turned their flight into a deadly dodge-and-weave dance, and scars were etched onto their skin as reminders of how close they came to never running again.

"Minoru går du til venstre og Katsuki går til højre. Mød jer i vores gemmested," Izuku commanded between gasps for air, casting a glance over his shoulder at his brothers. He knew the stakes; if they stayed together, they were an easier target. Separation was their only chance—at least then, the attacks would scatter, hopefully missing their marks as the triplets vanished into the city's veins.

Katsuki's eyes flashed with a mix of fear and fury, but he nodded sharply, understanding the necessity of the plan. He veered off to the right without a word, his own wounds forgotten in the face of survival. Minoru, pale and drawn from pain, gave a terse nod and stumbled left, his determination outshining the hurt that shadowed his features.

As the three of them split apart, the world seemed to hold its breath, watching the trio fracture yet bound by a shared resolve to reunite once more at the safe haven only they knew—their sanctuary amidst chaos. 

With the decision made, I took a deep breath and sprinted straight ahead, leaving the diverging paths of Katsuki and Minoru behind me. The heart-pounding echo of my footsteps rebounded off the concrete, harmonizing with the distant shouts of pursuit. My mind raced as fast as my legs, calculating every possible outcome, every twist and turn of the city streets that could lead to safety or further peril.

The sun was dipping low, throwing elongated shadows across my path, taunting me with fleeting cover. I dodged through alleyways, leaped over fences, all while the sting from previous close calls with airborne knives pulsed through my body. Pain became a constant drumbeat keeping time with my frantic movements.

A sharp turn into another narrow passage, and I could hear the thud of my chasers' footsteps growing fainter. But I couldn't afford to slow down—not when freedom was still just out of reach, not when my brothers' safety depended on my own evasion. My limbs moved on instinct; years of shared experiences had honed our survival instincts to near perfection.

As I glanced back, ensuring the distance between us grew, I collided with an unforeseen obstacle. My breath hitched as I tumbled forward, the ground rushing up to meet me—only it wasn't the ground at all. Firm arms wrapped around my waist, halting my descent.

"Are you gonna get up?" The voice reverberated through the air, laced with an authority that demanded immediate response. His grip was unyielding yet strangely protective. I scrambled to my feet, cheeks aflame with the unexpected contact and the adrenaline that still coursed through me, and bowed deeply in a hurried apology.

"Thank you," I muttered, far too aware of the need to keep moving. There was no time for embarrassment or gratitude. Survival was the only thing that mattered now—the promise of regrouping with Katsuki and Minoru at our hidden sanctuary, and the hope that we'd all make it there unscathed.

Pavement pounded beneath my sneakers, each step an echo of desperation. My lungs burned with the exertion, air sawing in and out as I hurtled down the alleyway, eyes scanning for the next turn, the next chance to evade capture.

The world blurred at the edges, my focus narrowing to the path ahead and the sound of pursuit. The others had peeled off, taking their chances through the maze of streets, but it was clear that the decision had painted a target squarely on my back.

I risked a glance over my shoulder and caught sight of them—a quartet of determined figures that refused to be shaken. Their shadows loomed, stretching towards me like grasping fingers. Sweat trickled into my eyes, stinging and forcing a blink, but I couldn't afford the luxury of wiping it away.

"Split up," Katsuki's voice had been a gruff command, his gaze sharp as flint when we had reached the fork in our flight. Now, the memory spurred me on, feeding the dwindling embers of my resolve.

Each corner turned was a small victory, every narrow escape a triumph against odds that seemed insurmountable. They wanted to follow me, all four of them, drawn by some unspoken consensus that I was the one to chase. Perhaps it was because they thought me the weakest link, the easiest target, or maybe they sensed something more—the unyielding spirit of a brother determined not to let his siblings down.

I couldn't let them catch me; I wouldn't. The promise of safety, of reunion with Izuku and Minoru, drove me onward. So I ran, legs pumping, heart racing, running for my life.

Darting through the back alleys with my breath coming in ragged gasps, I couldn't help but scoff at the absurdity of my situation. The echoing footsteps behind me seemed to mimic some clichéd chase scene from an action flick—just movie logic at this point. No matter how zigzagging my path or how desperately I tried to lose them between the dumpsters and clotheslines, they were relentless.

A sharp shout shattered the air, a voice barbed with fury and edged with desperation. "𝘎𝘌𝘛 𝘉𝘈𝘊𝘒 𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌!!!" The command boomed off the brick walls, carrying the weight of threat and promise of retribution.

My chest heaved with the effort of sprinting, the adrenaline fueling every stride. There was no stopping now; there was only forward, away from the voices, the demands, the danger.

The command to return was ludicrous, a vague hope shouted into the wind. Of course, they thought I was going to listen to what they had said—heed their call like some trained pet. But obedience was far from my mind; survival was my only creed.

My feet betrayed me as I ran, the soles of my sneakers slipping on stray pebbles and discarded trash that littered the alleyway. Every shadow seemed to morph into a treacherous obstacle, every uneven slab of concrete rose up to meet my stumbling steps. I cursed under my breath with each falter, feeling the sting of gravel against my palms as I caught myself from face-planting onto the unforgiving ground.

It was a chaotic ballet of near-misses and recoveries, my body lurching forward with little grace but unwavering determination. The sound of my own ragged breathing was punctuated by the scrape of my shoe against the pavement, a staccato rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart.

Every corner turned was another gamble, each narrow escape from toppling over a testament to the dire situation at hand. This was no longer about pride or proving anything; this was raw instinct, the primal need to evade and survive etched into every fiber of my being. And so, despite the relentless pursuit, the fumbling, and the tripping, I pushed onward, propelled by the single thought of reuniting with Izuku and Minoru at our sanctuary hidden away from this madness.

Bursting through the last barrier of brambles, my breath caught as the woods loomed ahead—a dark haven compared to the unyielding cityscape. I could sense freedom just beyond the tangle of roots and branches, each one a sentinel guarding the threshold between chaos and sanctuary. Heart thrumming against my ribs, I leaned into a sprint, the air cool on my sweat-slicked skin.

The forest floor was a blur beneath me, damp earth and fallen leaves providing a treacherous carpet that threatened to upend my desperate flight at any moment. And then, it happened—a misstep, a shadow not cast by any tree, and I was tumbling forward, momentum carrying me into an unforeseen collision.

Air whooshed out of my lungs as I crashed onto the unexpected obstacle—the solid form of someone already concealed by the woods' embrace. Before I could even process the pain blossoming in my shoulder from the impact, I felt a firm grip encircle my waist, pulling me back from the brink of another fall.

Heat flooded my cheeks, a crimson tide that had nothing to do with exertion. The grasp was insistent, grounding, and for a moment, the world outside of that touch faded away. It was an anchor in the tumultuous sea of my escape, a reminder that more than just danger could be found in the unexpected. My heart skipped, beating a new rhythm—one laced with an unfamiliar but potent mix of alarm and something dangerously akin to thrill.

"Are you gonna get up?" The question, spoken in a voice so deep it seemed to resonate with the very earth beneath us, yanked me from my daze.

I scrambled upright, the grip on my waist releasing as I fumbled to put distance between us. My heart raced, not just from the chase, but now from the proximity of this new presence—a variable I hadn't been prepared for.

The timbre of his voice hinted at strength, an unyielding quality that both intimidated and oddly comforted. Even without seeing his face clearly in the dim light filtering through the dense canopy, I knew he was someone who could stand their ground.

"Sorry," I managed to gasp out, breathless, the word barely a whisper.

With haste born of necessity, I bowed slightly to him, a quick dip of my head to convey my gratitude and apology all at once. I couldn't afford to linger, yet courtesy demanded acknowledgment of the unintentional intrusion into his solitude—and the unexpected steadying hand when I needed it most.

And then, with no more than that fleeting interaction, I turned to continue my flight, leaving behind the deep-voiced stranger as another echo in the cacophony of my escape.