Chapter Text
Momo pulls another roll of bandages from the back of her hand. Just from the feel, she can tell that the gauze is declining in quality, the edges coming out frayed. But she hasn’t the time or energy to spare; it’ll have to suffice.
She wordlessly follows Lady Recovery’s commands, wrapping the wounds of those too weak to receive the healer’s quirk. She pushes past the exhaustion of the long-fought battle, the sting of her own injuries, and the nagging worry that Tokoyami won’t make it to Todoroki’s group in time.
Momo steals quick glances at the horizon, on the hunt for her avian comrade’s shadow. After nearly two (three?) full days of battling orcs with no end in sight, it’s a wonder that they all disintegrated into dust, all at once. Surely that means that the Orcmaker has been defeated. Unless it’s a front, an underhanded ploy to lure them into a false sense of hope. Momo’s sword hangs heavy at her hip, but she keeps her weapon close at hand.
The sounds of a horse-drawn cart snaps Momo out of her daze, even if she’s too exhausted to immediately react. She turns to the much-welcomed sight of Kouda at the reins, keeping the vehicle at a brisk but controlled clip. Tokoyami glides alongside on Dark Shadow’s back.
Momo runs up to meet them, even as her broken ankle smarts with every stride. She breathlessly asks, “Did they all make it, or did they-?”
“Everyone’s alive. For now.” Tokoyami dismounts from his quirk, letting Dark Shadow shrink to a more manageable size, hovering over one shoulder.
Lady Recovery hoists herself onto the cart, craning her neck to quickly look over everyone. Her breath hitches; she shakes her head. “I can’t risk healing them. With wounds this severe, I would need to use up a great deal of their life force. They barely have any life in them as it is.”
It’s been hours since Todoroki sent his last distress signal; it’s been even longer since they’ve gone without medical treatment. “Is there another healer in the area? How far is the nearest settlement?”
“Besides myself, there’s no one with a healing quirk for miles around. Not on this side of the border.”
“Then we’ll- if we cross the border, and ask for their aid-”
Tokoyami cuts off her wishful thinking. “We don’t have that luxury. Until the king makes an official decree, our bounty is still in effect. I spotted a battalion of Endeavor’s soldiers while we were in the air, headed due west. They must have seen the prince’s distress call, as well as your response. We have to leave before they get here.”
With a low groan, Tokoyami struggles to make Dark Shadow large enough to carry them both. But his quirk flickers out, and he pitches forward. Momo just barely catches his weight; Tokoyami narrowly avoids falling straight onto his wounds. With his previous injuries, his quirk use must be at its limit.
Dark Shadow confirms her suspicions. “You’ve pushed it too far, Fumikage.” Without another word, the vestiges of Tokoyami’s quirk seep back into the groove between his shoulders.
The landscape is flat and barren. With the fog lifting, there’s nowhere to hide. And they’re out of time.
Perhaps their capture was an inevitability. Endeavor has no heart for mercy, and his circle of influence is nigh unescapable. Even so, Momo can’t delude herself into accepting her impending execution. Even so, her body is in no state to put up a fight.
She grits her teeth as a pair of soldiers wrenches her arms behind her back, then shoves her into the dirt. To her left, Tokoyami is forced into the same position. She flinches at the hiss of a sword leaving its sheath.
Momo spots one soldier with a white cloth tied around his elbow. She locks eyes with him, desperation rising in her voice. “Please! We’ll follow you back to the capital, and we’ll submit to the king’s orders. But help them first!”
The medic steps forward, but the captain stops him with an outstretched hand. He sneers, “A pathetic excuse. How callous, to use your wounded comrades as a distraction while you make your escape.”
“We won’t run, I swear-”
Without warning, a sweeping gale cuts through the center of the field. Momo ducks away from the billowing dust, and the soldiers shout in alarm. But before anyone can run, hide, or commence an attack-
“Ho boy, what do we have here?” Hawks drops into the middle of the confrontation, hardly a whisper of wings on the wind. “Just what are you all squabbling about at this hour?”
“Sir- We’ve apprehended these two traitors to the kingdom. Forgive us for not having already followed through with their execution.”
“Execution?” Hawks scratches the back of his head, patently perplexed. “Haven’t you heard? These two were given special orders from the king- a covert operation to take down the Orcmaker. Kidnapping the prince was just a front. Or maybe you lot didn’t get the memo.”
The youngest of the soldiers, barely old enough to see past the brim of his helmet, asks in a high, warbling voice, “The Orcmaker? You really defeated the Orcmaker?”
Dark Shadow reemerges, interjecting with, “Well, actually-”
Tokoyami pins his quirk’s beak shut before he can spoil the ruse.
The captain quickly loses his bluster; none of the troops dare question the king’s second in command. “How should we proceed, sir?”
Hawks shoos them off. “Off to the border, then back to wherever you lot came from. If you see any battalions on the way, spread the word.”
The patrol squad marches off, a slow thunder of battle-weary footsteps. Once the soldiers are out of hearing range, Momo asks, “Is that really true? Has the bounty been lifted?”
“Null and void, as of this morning.” Hawks looks at the back of his wrist, examining a nonexistent watch. “The king’s gonna make an official announcement sometime today- about how you lot fleeing the castle was all part of his plan. Hopefully you don’t mind him taking the credit.”
Certainly not, if it means she and Tokoyami get to keep their heads.
Tokoyami eyes his feathered compatriot with more suspicion than Momo does. “Was delivering this information the only reason for your appearance here? Or did the king send you for another purpose?” He shifts his stance to block off Hawks from the prince; Momo follows his cue. If Hawks plans on capturing Todoroki and flying back to the castle, they can’t do much to stop him, especially in their current condition. But it’s still worth putting up a front.
Hawks slowly raises one eyebrow, as if it were beneath him to fully acknowledge their challenge. He looks over their heads, then blithely states, “There was something I needed to tell the little prince… but it doesn’t look like he’ll wake anytime soon. Guess it’ll have to wait.” Then, to Momo’s surprise, he gives a perfunctory bow to Lady Recovery. “It’s been a while, my Lady.”
“So it has, Keigo-kun.”
“My my, since when were we on a family-name basis?” He reaches into his jacket and holds up a trio of healing potions. “Got a souvenir for you from the capital. For old times’ sake.”
Izuku wakes after a long, dreamless sleep. As awareness returns to him, he welcomes pain like an old friend. Pain means that he’s survived, beyond all odds.
While holding himself still to avoid further injury, Izuku inventories his various afflictions. The profound emptiness in his chest- the price of losing All Might. His legs are still burdened with the backlash of his former quirk. His left arm is in equally poor condition, but his right arm has been partially healed: the muscles still feel incredibly weak and sore, but there aren’t any broken bones in that limb. Lady Recovery must have started the healing process while he was asleep.
When Izuku opens his eyes, Todoroki stares back at him, face frozen in shock. For who knows how long, the prince has been sitting at his bedside.
Wait- at his bedside. He’s lying in a bed- in a fully intact bedroom, at that. That means they didn’t come back to Yuuei, unless Izuku was unconscious long enough for the entire village to be rebuilt. The corollary to this revelation: he has no idea where they are.
A few seconds pass. Then a few more. Todoroki’s expression gradually shifts to one of concern. You OK?
Izuku tries to answer, but all he can vocalize is a dry croak. He signs back, I'm OK. Todoroki helps him sit up and passes him a glass of water. Izuku downs the glass, clears his throat, then asks, "How long have I been out?"
Todoroki reaches for Izuku's rucksack at the foot of the bed. After fishing out an unruly assortment of items, he locates Izuku’s hand-printed lunar calendar. Todoroki points to one of the waxing crescents near the bottom of the page. Now.
That means that Izuku's been asleep for almost two whole days. That also means he was unconscious through the night of the new moon. Todoroki appears to have that same thought. He asks, Sleep OK?
"No nightmares. I guess that means the Orcmaker's really gone." His body responds to that declaration with a fresh wave of emptiness. Izuku winces and clutches at his chest.
Hurt?
“N-Not exactly. Now that All Might’s gone, it- it feels like something important is missing. Right here.” Izuku hovers his hand over his heart, where the void is the strongest. It’s as if something had been ripped out of his chest, even though he gave up All Might willingly. It’s too tasking to wonder if he’ll have to endure this sensation for the rest of his life.
Todoroki carefully runs his fingers along the left side of Izuku’s chest, feeling for broken ribs. The emptiness isn’t exacerbated by the occasional prodding or the stretch of a deep inhale. Even so, All Might’s absence aches with a profound physicality- the bodily aftermath of a spiritual loss. Harboring One for All’s soul inside of himself must have caused some amount of intertwining with his own- that’s the only way Izuku can rationalize this deep, awful ache.
Once Todoroki finishes his examination, he signs, OK, again. He doesn’t elaborate with any written words; his actions so far have been strictly one-handed. Izuku lowers his gaze: Todoroki’s right arm, kept loose at his side, has been splinted at the wrist. Consequently, the prince’s usable vocabulary has become significantly stunted.
Izuku's train of thought is interrupted by an expected, but unwelcome bodily sensation. "Sorry, I have to go to the- but I guess I can't-"
No walking. Todoroki hands him a basin, then pulls a chamber pot close to the bed. I leave. Wait. Return.
Todoroki exits the room. Izuku tries to rein in his embarrassment. He takes care of his business, sets the empty basin onto the closed chamber pot, then nudges them out of the way, but still within reach. Izuku readjusts himself, then lets Todoroki know that he can come back in.
Todoroki returns with a clean basin half-filled with water, alongside a washcloth and a bar of soap. As he washes off his usable hand, Izuku stammers, "Sorry, sorry that you have to do all of this, I- sorry-"
OK.
A brief silence follows. In an ungainly attempt to change the subject, Izuku asks, "Is 'OK' your favorite word now?"
Todoroki shrugs. Now. Yes.
Izuku soon learns that he and Todoroki have been residing in the spare room of an abandoned cabin. The dwelling was recently reinhabited by Uraraka’s great-aunt, a gifted seamstress and a loquacious storyteller.
Shortly after Todoroki takes his leave, she comes into the room with a hunk of buttered bread and a pile of yarn. She loops the yarn around a set of knitting needles, then proceeds with her craft while answering Izuku’s questions.
“We’re about twenty miles south of Yuuei, but still on our side of the border. Quite a mix we’ve got- ‘course, there’s the people who’ve lived here to start out with. Then the group of us who fled Yuuei when the walls came down. And the young ones who stayed to fight are all here now, too! It’s like a whole family reunion.”
Izuku sags with relief when he hears that there were no fatalities sustained during the battle, miracle of miracles. Everyone from Yuuei who fought to defend their home has made it through alive.
Uraraka’s great-aunt - “Oh, just call me Kaneko, sweetheart” - chatters at a rapid rate, rivaling the speed of her knitting needles. “Wouldn’t you believe it- all the orcs turned to dust, just like that! Lady Recovery still has her hands full, though. I heard she’s been crossing the border, to treat some of the wounded on Endeavor’s side. But once she gets back, I’ll be sure to let her know you’re awake, so you can get some more of that healing in you. Something about life energy and whatnot.”
Izuku’s attention wanders while Uraraka’s- while Kaneko-san continues her rambling about various topics. With the warmth of the afternoon sun, he’s close to falling back asleep. Maybe he hasn’t recovered as much life energy as he’d thought.
Then Kaneko’s next words immediately recapture his attention. “The funny thing is, I heard there was a bit of a stand-off near the border… something about a bounty?” Izuku holds his breath, as if that would do anything to stop Yaoyorozu and Tokoyami’s execution. “But it got sorted out pretty quickly, so I heard. The two kidnappers - well, falsely accused of kidnapping, I should say - they’re headed back to Endeavor’s castle, so they can clear up their names with the king. Something like that.”
Todoroki returns in the evening with Uraraka in tow. “Sorry for not visiting you sooner! My quirk’s been in high demand for all the rebuilding, so I’ve been going back and forth a lot between here and Yuuei. How are you feeling?”
Izuku gives her a half-true answer, then pivots the conversation to Yuuei’s reconstruction. He eagerly takes in Uraraka’s recount of her day’s work, the banalities that come with rebuilding a village from the ground up.
He eventually asks, “How is Iida doing? Has he helping with the reconstruction as well?”
The other two exchange a cautious look. Uraraka eventually responds, “He’s still recovering. Lady Recovery closed the wound, but he has a high fever, so he’s still under her care.”
They share a prolonged silence. Izuku wonders what’s been left unsaid, but his mind is too fatigued and pain-muddled to inquire any further.
Uraraka soon follows up with, “Don’t worry too much about him! He’ll definitely pull through this, I just know it. Hm, what else- oh! Bakugou and Kirishima made it out just fine. They took off as soon as they were able. By the way, is your given name really Deku? Sounds a little odd, but I like it!”
Izuku hastily explains the childhood origins of the nickname. “I grew out of the name once I was old enough to leave the village. Kacchan’s the only one who still calls me that.”
“Well, would you mind if I call you ‘Deku,’ too? I think it really suits you!”
Kaneko prematurely announces Izuku’s next visitor, her voice reverberating from down the hall. “Oh, dear, how careless of me. Let me get the door for you!”
The door swings open; Kaneko shuffles back to her needlework. But it still takes a while for the visitor to enter, a heavy gait alternating with an odd clicking sound.
Eventually, the visitor reveals himself: Iida hobbles through the doorway on a pair of wooden crutches. He catches his breath, then says, “It’s good to see you, Midoriya.”
“Iida, you’re-” Izuku’s voice dies out, along with his short-lived feeling of relief. He takes in the sight of Iida’s shortened leg, amputated just above the knee. Layered wrappings of crisp, clean bandages obscure the severity of the injury. “Was it the Orcmaker’s doing?”
“In a way.” Iida makes his way forward, then slowly eases himself onto the edge of the bed. “The wound failed to close properly, even with Lady Recovery’s healing. It was a choice between keeping the leg or my life. An easy choice, in the end.”
“But your quirk- how are you going to use it, without-”
“Perhaps I shall learn, once my body has had time to get fully accustomed to its… current form. At the moment, it’s not a priority.”
An unbidden, overwhelming shame floods the void in Izuku’s chest. “I’m sorry, Iida. I should have- if only I could have acted faster-”
Iida shakes his head. “Save your apologies. Without your efforts, none of us would have lived to see a day free from the Orcmaker’s threat. We’ve all had our share of losses at his hand.” Iida looks out the window, up at the cloudless sky. “The shapeshifter - Kirishima, was it? - his quirk also did not return. But again, it’s not a priority to regain my speed. There’s far more to life than having a quirk.”
Izuku gasps as a rush of emptiness courses through him, gnawing at his insides like an insatiable beast. He hunches over and waits for the assault to pass. Something cool brushes against his neck.
Iida’s hand on his shoulder tethers Izuku to reality, as the awful emptiness threatens to swallow him whole. His voice echoes as if it were coming from far away, even though Izuku knows he’s close enough to touch. “Are you all right, Midoriya?”
After a few deep breaths, Izuku recovers enough to answer. “I’m f-” As he feels for the coolness along the side of his neck, his fingers trace over delicate metalwork. “Your pin! I’d forgotten that I’ve had it this whole time.” He awkwardly works through unclasping the pin with one hand. “Here- I should really return this to you, before I forget again.”
Iida’s face is already pale, given the extensive blood loss he must have suffered, but he somehow goes a few shades paler. With a small sigh, he resists the offering. “I’m afraid I cannot accept this in my current state. Should you remain by the prince’s side, this token would be rightfully yours. But now that the Orcmaker has been defeated- should you wish to part ways, you’re welcome to dispose of it.”
It doesn’t feel right to throw away a symbol of the prince’s trust. However, at the same time, the pin isn’t truly his to keep. Maybe he can give it back to Todoroki, instead.
After a couple of days, and another round of healing from Lady Recovery, Izuku gets accustomed to the pain of his injuries, enough for his mind to start conjuring a few harebrained ideas. He thinks back to how Todoroki took the curse of silence away from him. Kissing him afterwards hadn't done anything, but maybe now that the Orcmaker's been sealed away-
Well, there's no harm in experimenting, even if there's a low chance of success. "Todoroki?" Izuku calls out to the open bedroom door.
After a few seconds, Todoroki limps into view. You OK?
"I'm fine. I just wanted you to come over here, for a bit." Todoroki helps him sit up, then perches on the edge of the bed. Izuku bites his lip, avoiding the prince’s awaiting gaze. "I want to try something."
He closes his eyes, then leans forward until their lips meet. He's met again with the unusual sensation of a half-cold, half-hot kiss. To Izuku's surprise, the prince doesn't shy away- he reciprocates the gesture, if anything. They kiss for longer than Izuku had originally intended. Perhaps the longer duration will increase the chances of breaking the curse?
After what feels like an adequate amount of time, Izuku pulls away. Todoroki's eyes are wide, a blush warming his right cheek. His mouth opens, then closes. He repeats the action when Izuku tilts his head in confusion. Eventually, he resorts to spelling the word into Izuku's palm. Why? Ah, now he's got it. They should really come up with a sign for that.
"Now that All For One is gone, I wanted to see if doing this would break the curse. But I guess not."
Todoroki's face falls. No. Then he signs, OK.
Izuku kisses the prince about a dozen more times, in a variety of contexts and configurations. They kiss at high noon, at sundown, by candlelight; Izuku tries holding his breath, keeping his eyes open, sticking his tongue in Todoroki’s mouth, letting Todoroki stick his tongue in-
None of the attempts are successful. It must be Izuku’s lack of experience. He’s never kissed anyone else, so maybe he’s just not doing it right. Maybe there’s a trick to kissing that he never picked up. But really, how complicated could it be? This would be much easier if Todoroki could just tell him how to properly kiss away the curse.
At the very least, the kissing serves as a pleasant distraction from the gaping void in his chest. With their lips pressed together, and their bodies held close, Izuku can almost forget about the pull of All Might’s absence. The relief isn’t just a matter of mental distraction: occupying his thoughts with contrived mental puzzles, or theoretical designs for a prosthetic leg, doesn’t make the emptiness any easier to bear. Something about the physicality of kissing, the warmth of another human in close proximity, soothes the visceral loss. It’s comfortable, comforting. Like a nice bowl of soup.
After the first few kisses, Izuku stops hoping for a breakthrough, but he doesn’t stop trying. He goes through the motions, keeping a mental tally of the different attempts while implementing progressively more convoluted maneuvers. Despite the drudgery of it all, Todoroki comes to him willingly every time, compliant in the experimentation. The prince follows along with each iteration, but he looks progressively more disappointed as the day wears on.
Their final attempt falls on the stroke of midnight; Izuku has his pocket watch out, to make sure they got the timing just right. But this too fails; Todoroki mouths a string of silent syllables, then lets out a quiet sigh. In the clumsy script of his left hand, he writes a damning comment into his notebook. This clearly isn't working. Please stop. I don't want to be kissed like this.
“But your voice- we have to keep trying, right? Don’t you want to get your voice back?”
Todoroki keeps his gaze fixed on the page. After a lengthy pause, he answers with, I’ve accepted the situation for what it is.
But Todoroki’s expression belies his written testimony. He looks crestfallen, resigned, a tight pull to the edges of his mouth. The pencil creaks with how tightly he’s gripping it. Of course a life of voicelessness would be a devastating fate to bear. That alone is easy to understand.
However, as Izuku lies awake that night, restless from days of bedrest, he can’t help but fixate on a particular turn of phrase. I don’t want to be kissed like this. I don’t want to be kissed like this. I don’t want to be kissed-
Izuku covers his face with his usable hand, his whole body going flush with embarrassment. It’s obvious now that Todoroki was merely humoring his attempts while harboring his unsaid disgust with the whole affair. Why would a prince want to kiss a quirkless commoner? Plus, they’re both men; that alone would a strong deterrent for most. But that still doesn’t explain why Todoroki kissed him first-
By the time dawn’s glow starts seeping into the floorboards, Izuku deduces the following: through some unknown epiphany, Todoroki figured out that a kiss was the key to transferring the curse. And he somehow figured out the exact way to make it happen. He did it as a one-time favor to Izuku, an act of self-sacrifice, out of a sense of obligation. Yes, that must be it.
This conclusion plunges Izuku’s heart into his stomach, stirring up the emptiness in his chest. The answer he’s come to doesn’t feel quite right: some of the details don’t fit into the narrative, and it still doesn’t explain why Todoroki has given up on getting his voice back. But he falls asleep before he can make further progress into the quandary.
The next morning, Izuku intends to ask Todoroki for an explanation. Instead, he finds a note at his bedside. I should help with repairing the village. I will return every few hours to check on you. Please refrain from hurting yourself while I am away.
As promised, the prince pays him a visit around midday. But he avoids eye contact, giving only the curtest of answers whenever strictly necessary. He keeps his distance- no more casual touches to the cheek or hand. The air is heavy with words left unspoken. After a cursory check of Izuku’s injuries and handing him a portion of Satou’s cooking, he leaves without a second glance.
Izuku instinctively wants to apologize for something, but he’s not sure what for. For making things awkward? More likely than not, apologizing for making things awkward… would just make things even more awkward. Still, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s done something wrong.
Todoroki, for his part, doesn't mention their kissing attempts whatsoever, from that point on. They collectively, tacitly agree to pretend like it had never happened.
At the edge of the creek, on the outskirts of the village, Shouto receives an unwelcome visitor.
“My, my. Wasn’t expecting you to fit in so well around here, your Highness.”
His first instinct is to blast a jet of flames at the messenger’s wings- that’s his only chance of evading capture. But Hawks effortlessly avoids the attack. He flies safely out of range.
His father’s lackey makes a show of dusting himself off, tending to nonexistent burns. “No need to be so hostile, little prince. What’s got you so worked up?”
Shouto reflexively reaches for his right sleeve, the trace’s former location. He adjusts his footwork, readying himself for a fight.
Hawks coos at his attempt. “Cute.” In a flash, he flits out of view. Shouto tenses at cool fingers tracing the back of his neck, pulling at his collar. Hawks peers over the top of his head with a wolfish grin, dangling a slim red feather in front of his face. “Of course I’d have more than one trace on you. You thought you could get rid of me so easily?”
In retrospect, it was foolish to assume Hawks had revealed the location of his one and only trace. Shouto takes that thought to its natural conclusion. So there are even more feathers you’ve hidden on me, besides the one in your hand. And you’re not going to show me where they are.
“See, now you’re getting it!” Hawks ruffles Shouto’s hair before he can protest. "Anyhow, I got an assignment to fly out here, help take down the Orcmaker and all that. But it looks like you lot already took care of it! Shame that I missed all the fun. I guess that's what happens when you're the royal's long-distance errand boy."
Shouto ducks out of the winged messenger’s range. What do you want? Did my father send you to retrieve me?
Hawks shakes his head. "Not that royal." He hands Shouto a furled piece of parchment. Unraveling the parcel reveals a map of the surrounding lands, with a serpentine path marked in red ink. The path goes far north, ending at a point beyond even the Orcmaker’s lair. "Your mother is still alive."
Shouto can barely accept this revelation. His heart picks up at an alarming rate; his grip on the map threatens to tear it. So the message that started it all was- It was your note?
Hawks hums. "Was it? I don't remember, my poor ol’ bird-brain's so forgetful these days. Anyway, I've got more errands to run. See you 'round, little prince." The winged messenger takes to the skies before Shouto can unfreeze himself from the bed of the riverbank.
Shouto shows Midoriya the map immediately upon his return, as soon as he can get through explaining what happened. Upon closer inspection, the demarcated trail cuts directly through the Wastelands, as well as a narrow mountainous pass. Even under the best of conditions, it would take a week’s worth of arduous travel.
Midoriya surveys the map with a worried look on his face. “That’s a long way north. It’s too dangerous to go by yourself.”
I know. The next sentence is out on the page before he can stop himself. I want you to meet her.