✓THE WAR DIVIDING US|| TodoBakuDeku Au

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~ Third Person P.O.V ~

Ragged, disarrayed gasps of air pushed past the confinements of Izuku's lips as the boy hunched over-- resting his hands on his knees as he desperately tried to catch his breath. The scorching sun mercilessly raining down on him like flames from hell, only adding onto his respiratory complications. If there was one thing that training with Shoto had taught him it was one: he hated running, and two: he was severely out of shape.

"Come on kid, keep up!" Shoto snickered from a few feet ahead. The two were currently running on the outskirts of the Base, staying close to the wired fences and running along with them.

Which meant they hardly ran into anyone.

"I . . . can't . . . too . . . tired," Izuku panted out, swaying a bit before inevitably collapsing onto the grass with a muted huff of air.

Flattening his lips into a hard-pressed line, Shoto makes his way over to the fallen male with clenched fists-- knuckles whitening. "Get up," He ordered lowly, voice hard, and strained. When the other male made no move to rise from his position, Shoto heaved an amalgam between a snarl and scoff; opting for hauling Izuku up himself.

"Can't I please just take a break?" The smaller of the two whined, slumping his weight against Shoto's chest as he continued to quietly pant. "It's hot, and I'm sweaty, and out of shape . . . just a five-minute break is all I'm asking for!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the duel haired man groans as he drops the boy onto the ground-- earning a string of grumbled curses from Izuku.

"Five minutes," Shoto repeated dourly, jabbing his index finger into Izuku's chest-- with a little too much force.

The air between the duo was quiet and unmoving. Neither saying a word to the other as the curly-haired male still struggled to breathe regularly, plump face masked with damp sweat. After a while of having to endure the other boy's breathing, Shoto pulled a canteen out of his pocket-- silently handing it to Izuku.

Mumbling a small 'Thank you' in return, Izuku scarfed the water down . . . some of it dripping down his chin and rolling off his neck-- mixing with the sweat coated on his flesh. And as he drank, Shoto studied him. Heterochromatic eyes monitoring every bat of his eyelash, of bob of his faint adam's apple, he inspected it all. Shoto had always found . . . studying people to be intriguing, finding out what makes them tick just by inspecting them closely. And he found that it came fairly easy for him. 

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Izuku chuckled, taking note of the other male's obvious staring.

His question was accurate, he does have something on his face-- just not in the way he was thinking.

"Freckles," Shoto whispered, his voice barely detectable as Izuku toiled to hear. "I've seen a lot of Japanese men, women, and children . . . do you want to know what they all have in common?"

"Their beady eyes?" The younger grimaced, nose twisted up and forming wrinkles in the bridge.

Releasing an annoyed snort, Shoto shakes his head. "I've never seen any type of beauty marks on them . . . yet you have freckles, I wonder why that is." He pondered out loud, finding himself leaning in closer to look at the boy.

Izuku stiffened, posture going rigid and emerald eyes enlarging as he eyed the other male suspiciously, 'What the hell is he doing?'. That's when another aspect of Izuku's face became clear to Shoto.

"You have fairly large eyes too, again, most people of your race have slender, more narrow eyes." The elder proclaimed, his two-toned orbs locking in on Izuku's.