#ch6 festival of stone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katsukibakugo · 6 years

Text

thinking about the moment when we strayed into the right path

Summary: When one Izuku, heir to house Midoriya and loyal subject of the kingdom of Doryoku, finds himself caring for a stolen dragon’s egg he’ll unknowingly become part of a conspiracy threatening to dismantle his kingdom and a prophecy threatening to destroy the world.

ao3: [Prologue], [ch1], [ch2], [ch3], [ch4], [ch5], [ch6]

Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6 plus notes under cut (8k words)

Chapter 3 - The Relic from The Age of Heroes

It cracked. At first he wasn't sure if he'd seen it, not really. If he is honest with himself, he wants to close his eyes and ignore it, to tell himself that he didn't see anything, that there's nothing to worry about. He wants to say, "This is not an omen."

He wants to say, "That monster was defeated long ago." But unfortunately enough he knows what he saw. He knows what he's seeing now. The everstone carrying the strongest weapon in the world since the birth of magic has cracked. Toshinori Yagi knows fully well what that means. For him. For the kingdom. For the outside.

That time grows near. He knows what it means but he's not ready. He sighs, walks away from the center of the Hall of Beginnings, away from the everstone and what it holds. He makes his way to his usual spot and sits. He doesn't bother looking up yet, keeping his gaze down. He picks at the small blades of grass growing from the ground, the ones that have managed to grow tall unlike the ones beneath him. He's like a rock on this sole spot, having spent multiple intervals of decades mediating, waiting, praying.

The sun shines brights from the small open holes on the hall's dome roof, bright enough that he can see dust and pollen fly around him. He sees at times, the glimmers of ancient magic that come from the center of the hall, visible now only to his eyes. "What do I do?" he implores, head still bent down. "I can't fight that monster again, no matter how much I want to." He clenches his fists around the blades of grass, doesn't pull. Just holds. "What am I supposed to do, master?" he asks again, raising his head. Nana Shimura's statue smiles. Age has withered the once pristine statue. Part of the cape that bellowed behind her has fallen off. The details, from her smile to the small indent that indicated the birthmark on her chin to the brooch that held her hair back, now barely noticeable. The fist cocked at her hip has two fingers missing and the arm that dangled at her side missing from the elbow down. Even the plaque that held her name and title has been lost to time, the words barely legible. The other statues around the hall fare no better. His master's old comrades. The people he once followed without a second thought and fought beside. Generations he's spent caring for the Hall of Beginnings and everything inside it, yet he's failed to even keep these fragments left of them whole. What's left of Nana Shimura's statue smiles, not at him. Not at anything. Nana Shimura has been dead for centuries. He sits there, lost in memories of the past and worry for the future, for what must be hours. The sun no longer shines through into the hall. He sighs, letting go of the grass. "I guess it's a lucky coincidence that we're nearing that time of the year, huh," he speaks to the empty hall, to the silent statue of his master and her- their comrades. "The Korona festival and the trial of Seikatsu." he shakes his head. "But we've never had a champion, what could possibly change this time?" he asks out loud, incredulous. "I've seen so many people try and fail that I've long lost count. No one's been chosen since I was." He shakes his head before rising to his feet. "And look at me, the last champion, talking to myself like this," he huffs, making his way back to the center of the hall. The everstone sits on the middle of it all, surrounded by the chosen of old. At it's center, now with a longer visible crack running down the everstone, sits the most powerful weapon of all, the first blade of the new age, the One for All. And the sword between two stone talons. He looks up to the stone dragon behind the everstone, sitting there tall and proud, one paw over the everstone and sword, what's left of the stone wings spread wide behind it, the head missing one of its four horns. "No champion since myself," he murmurs. "What will become of this world when he rises again and there's no chosen to fight him. Only your power can stop him." "Please, please lend it to us once more, Unuzu."

Chapter 4 - The Deserting Prince

Sakaba, the underbelly of the royal capital of Doryoku. Ryouga's favorite place. The one place his father made his very best to hide, erase, dismantle, but never actually bother to fix. Not that Sakaba could be fixed, not really.

There was dark energy in the very soil and legend had it, a great battle was fought in this very land ending in the total slaughter of both sides. This all occurring before even Doryoku's founding. Since the battle had happened during the beginning of the New Age, magic being so young, vast, and powerful, the dying soldiers cast a curse upon the land in their deaths. Everything evil in the world would congregate there year by year, decade by decade, and eventually it would burst, the dark magic, taking the world down with them to the sounds of the dying man who cursed the land and all who lived in it. Or at least that was the legend, Ryouga thinks with a snort. Ryouga wasn't one for superstitions or old tales from barely readable texts, let alone the hearsay from old crones. Oh, he knows there's truth to all stories, no matter how little. Still, being raised by a man obsessed (and that's putting it lightly) with prophecies and childrens' tales, brings quite the distaste for that sort of thing. He'd rather see the world, Sakaba in this case, for what it was. The failure of Doryoku. Yet another mark against his father, though a relatively small one compared to the vast rest. It wasn't the only one either, Ryouga knows this well. All major cities within Doryoku had their own very Sakaba, places the common folk tried their best to ignore, where the vermin come together. In fact, all over the continent you could find Sakabas; all different names, all different buildings, all different sort of scum as far as the eye could see for the common folk to look away from or shrink in fear from. But this Sakaba was his and with every trip he made into it, the freer he felt. The easier it got to tell himself that he was removing the chains that man placed on him when and until it was convenient to him-

(and not that he'd been thrown away). Making his way into Sakaba itself was beyond easy. Sure there were guards placed around Sakaba to keep the vermin out of the streets of the royal capital, but they never paid it any mind until trouble broke out. The guards his father had once appointed to him were taken the moment Shouto's magic came into being- once Shouto proved he was father's promised prince of prophecy.

Fifteen years with no one to watch his every move. Or his back, but because of it Ryouga was able to learn how to fend for himself. For that at least, he's thankful. Pulling the black cloak he threw over his head further down he makes haste, sliding between alleys with the grace of a cat. The bag he carries carefully hidden from view as the cloak blows behind him. He's in a hurry, he'd just barely managed to escape Fuyumi- his sister actually tried to freeze him in place with her magic. His boots still feel soggy and wet even after he'd tried his best to dry them without setting them on fire. As such, he's wasted precious time in the attempt. He needs to get to the rendezvous point and fast. If anyone so much as attempts to rob him at the moment, well he'd just have to turn them to ash as quickly as possible. Thankfully it seems the folks in the area are actually listening to their sense of self-preservation this time around, moving swiftly out of his way as he goes. Good, he'd rather not end up in a bad mood before he even steps foot in the citadel. He hurries along, mindful to take quiet steps the closer he gets to one particular alleyway. With a quick look to his surroundings, seeing no one and sensing no magical presence he steps into it. Had there been anyone on the small road they would have seen him disappear from sight. The alleyway is short, nothing more than ten steps, closed off and leading only to a door at the end. He opens it and steps inside. The door itself leads to a small dark room, no other doors and no light lacrymas or old style candles to speak of. There's only darkness and a queasy sense of disorientation. He frankly dislikes this part, even though he's grown more than used to it over the short years he's had to deal with it. He digs into his pocket, digs out the small brown pouch he'd been given three years back and lets the small lacryma orb fall into his hands. He can't see it now, his eyes haven't adjusted to the dark just yet, but he knows, even as small as it is, that the orb shines, as if he had part of the night sky on the palm of his hand. He closes his hand into a fist, the lacryma orb hidden behind his fingers. The darkness and the feeling of disorientation expands and expands, engulfs him like a thick blanket.

Ryouga closes his eyes against the feeling and breathes. He won't be Ryouga for a while now. He opens his eyes with a sigh when the feeling finally abates. The dark room is no more, and neither is he alone now. The new room is still pretty dark, the light lacrymas hanging from the ceiling not that bright. Still, it's bright enough to make out the usual barrels pushed to the walls, stacked one on top of the other, and the man in front of him, bright yellow eyes visible and contrasting compared to the black under the hood of the cloak the man wears. "Dabi, welcome. You're just in time," Kurogiri says to him. "You mean I barely made it," he points out, playing with the lacryma orb between his fingers. The orb now looks like a small, round gray rock. He hands over the lacryma orb to Kurogiri's dark, intangible palm. It disappears from sight. Kurogiri will imbue it with his magic again, for the next trip he must make. Kurogiri hums. "Oh? Did you find difficulties getting to the rendezvous point?" He pictures Fuyumi's angry (and hurt) face when he told her he wouldn't be staying longer. "Something like that, don't worry about it." "Very well," Kurogiri concedes, swiftly turning to the open door behind him. "Toga here?" he asks, following after him. "Lady Himiko is in her personal study as usual," he tells him. "We'll be expecting you both in the main study." "Pick up crazy and make sure she attends the meeting, got it." He turns the opposite way Kurogiri does, the door closing on its own behind them. The citadel is as filthy as ever, he notes. Kurogiri only keeps certain rooms in top condition, he knows. Everything else is left to each room's inhabitants so things like the hallways are all filled with dirt and grime and the occasional trail of blood, dried or otherwise. At least it's not like the dungeons below the citadel, he tells himself. Now that is a cesspool of the worst things imaginable in this world, all in the middle of nowhere in Akutou. Toga's personal study is a close second. He opens the door without knocking once he reaches it. He's long since learned not to bother, if she's in there chances are she's already lost in her own world and won't be coming out or days unless dragged out. She's got a new pet he notices when she turns around and grins at him from her place crouched down at a corner of the room. The gagged and bound man laying on his stomach starts to move as soon as he notices someone else in the room. Not that he'd be able to go anywhere, his legs bent at the knees at awkward angles. He's missing one arm while Toga works on the one left. How the man's still awake he doesn't want to know, he thinks looking at the buckets and bowls of blood Toga has sitting near by. "Hey! You're back!" she says, before wiping at her face with the sleeve of her shirt. Not that it helps, instead it smears the blood already splattered on her face further. Still, at least she's wearing something this time around. "Where's the lacryma?" he asks, to the point, stepping around the puddles of blood on the floor, inching closer to the work desk where she keeps most of her toys around. "I'm doing great, thanks for asking! This is my new friend, Lord Ateji Monooba, say hello to Dabi, my lord!" she says with a manic giggle and the man's muffled screams pick up. He stops at that and turns to them. A second passes before he makes his way near them, forgoing stepping around the puddles altogether, the blood splashing under his boots. He crouches by her side and watches the man's eyes widen. Huh, actually recognized him then. That's new, and too bad for the man. Well, not that he would've done anything to take him from Toga's hands anyway. "The ambassador to Hosutawa? Really?" Toga shrugs, delighted. "He was being very very bad, sticking his nose where he shouldn't! So I got the go ahead, and here we are. Getting well acquainted with each other!" "You don't say," he drawls. "But you're gonna have to cut this short, meeting's about to start, you know how his royal pain in the ass gets when he's kept waiting." "Eh- don't wanna, he'll bleed out if I leave now and I'm not gonna miss it!" she pouts at him, but he sees the glint in her eyes. She won't leave before she sees the man die, or - "He won't, if we cauterize the wounds," he points out, hand already aflame with his magic and reaching for the man whose struggles double. "Ooooh, good point! Make sure you don't over do it! Here, let me get you the lacryma while you're at it," she says rising to her feet. "Mhm," he says to here before reaching for the stump where the man's arm used to be, Toga's half ass efforts to keep the wound from bleeding too much. The man's muffled screams rise in volume again. He uses his free hand to hold him down by the back of the man's neck. "The less you squirm the faster this ends," he tells him. Lord Ateji pays him no mind. He sighs annoyed. The open wounds Toga left on the man's other arm burst into small dark flames. He keeps going until he sees the wounds have closed and Toga behind him screams, "Fount it!" He rises at that, wipes the hand that held the stump on his pants, the small specks of dried blood and burnt cloth that kept it from bleeding out falling off. Ateji Monooba breaths heavily, his face full of tears and snot and now of his own blood as his head falls onto the puddle below him. Toga walks back to him, eyes on the man, the red lacryma between her hands. He takes it from it without a word as she crouches back down to poke at ambassador Ateji. He rolls the lacryma in his hands once, twice, before grabbing it firmly, his hands flat against the orb's red surface. He lets his magic expand, lets the fire breathe alongside him. It pulses to the beat of his heart once, twice, thrice. There's an image in his head, of the boy who was, of the discarded. He grabs it, grips it, lets it go aflame in his mind's eye.

He holds it. He lets go. The lacryma pulses, out of rhythm with his heart, and he watches, as he always does, as his magic- as his fire takes over. It dances over his fingers and hands to his wrists, it glides over his clothes, but he feels the changes beneath still. He watches as always, as the steel stitches and patches of dead burnt skin show up as his skin, the unblemished pale tone of the mirage, falls away like embers or kindling. He closes his eyes when he feels the fire reach his neck, lets it run its course all the way to his head and waits. When it ends he opens his eyes and raises one hand to brush his hair, soot falling down onto Toga's dirty floor. His old red hair now completely black. The lacryma orb in his hands is now a dull grey. He sighs. Toga will need to imbue it with her magic again which means he needs to donate more of his blood to her now. Great, he thinks with a silent groan. Another future rant on the power that exists in king's blood. Well, at the very least she'll make sure the way he changes in appearance isn't quite the mess hers is. Small mercies. "Hey," Toga calls out below, blank tone. The hairs on the back of his neck rise. He turns to her, curious but also ready in case she snaps, "What." "If he dies while I'm gone you owe me a new ambassador." He glances at Ateji. Still breathing, but labored enough that it looks like he could die any minute now without proper treatment. Still, if she's willing to let go of this one in exchange for another then fine. He can work with this so he shrugs. There's plenty of other assholes in his father's court, he doubts any of them have become better people in the years he hasn't been around to deal with them. "Got it." She jumps to her feet in an instant and it's only after years of knowing her that he thankfully doesn't immediately either move away or let his flames surround him. "Let's go then!!" she says, already making her way to her door. He doesn't bother pointing out how her robe and the knees of her pants are filthy with fresh blood. "Hey," he calls out to her as she reaches the door. She turns, eyebrow raised. He takes his own cloak and the bag he's been carrying off. "Mind if I leave these here in the mean time?" It's safe enough. Toga only allows a handful of people into her room or personal study and from those that come in no one would care about his things enough to snoop around or possibly damage his stuff. He'd burn their hands off otherwise, as the lot around them have come to find. Plus what he's brought over can only be read by a different handful of people as is. "Don't care, go ahead," she says before going out of sight. He drops them on a fairly clean, for this room anyway, chair tucked to the wall by the door and walks after her. The door closes behind him. She's skipping away, quite a few steps in front of him until they reach the main study. The old door creaks as she pushes it open far enough that he'll be visible behind her. "We're here!" she announces just as he manages to keep the door from closing on him. "You're late!!" that annoying voice he'd gladly do without barks out. Dabi glances at him briefly before taking a mocking bow towards the head of the table. Toga and a couple of others already sitting giggle and snort, barely restraining themselves. "Deepest apologies, your highness," he says when he stands tall again walking towards the chair Toga's pulled out for him with a grin. The one sitting at the head of the table however is less than amused. Tomura Shigaraki growls at him, ruby red eyes just barely visible with how much he's glaring his way and if looks could kill- Well, he'd been dead a long time ago. Kurogiri stands at his side, calling everyone's attention. He starts as always, going around asking everyone about their missions and their completion. Some of them preparations that have been going on for decades now, before he himself was even born. Still, he waits his turn and in the mean time he watches their fearless leader, more of a fumbling heir of nothing than actual mastermind. He notices with small interest that two lacryma fragments have been added to the black-gold circlet Tomura wears on his head. The large diamond-cut red lacryma that sits at the middle front, covering most of Tomura's forehead and placed over the shaggy silver hair, is now adorned by two circle-cut blue lacryma shards. The sun-shaped black-gold that sits at the back of said circlet remains the same from what he can see peeking out behind Tomura's head, giving the allusion of a halo over the man's head. He almost snorts at that. From what he sees, on further inspection, there's nothing new about the man, save the open cut on his lip he keeps biting at as his eyes remain on whoever is speaking, biting at it particularly vicious when he clearly doesn't like what he hears. The same choker of black lacrymas sits on a pale and thin neck, and from it small chains linking to the cloth of the, as far as he guesses, ceremonial garb Tomura wears during meetings (or is it, is forced to wear? Dabi wonders; when they meet outside of meetings, the man seems more at ease wearing black trousers, a simple black shirt, and the unusual and eye-catching red-leather shoes he favors). Aside from how it's obvious he's getting even less sleep than usual, he doesn't notice much else- Toga pokes at his arm. "Mm?" he stares down at her grin, all sharp teeth. "Your report, if you would be so kind," Kurogiri says from the front. Ah, he was caught looking, he realizes when Tomura looks at him, more suspicious than annoyed. "What already?" Tomura bites out. He waits. He's already been caught staring so- He raises his hand, pointer and middle finger spread wide as he pokes at his own forehead to where the new lacryma fragments sit on Tomura's circlet. Tomura gives him his full glare again. "That's none of your concern!" Dabi shrugs. He turns his gaze to Kurogiri instead. "I got what you asked for." "And the recruits?" Kurogiri questions him. He thinks back to the scum that had been sent his way, the ones he had to meet before entering Doryoku's capital. Utter garbage, the lot of them. "Ashes," he answers simply. Not a single one of them had been worth a damn. Tomura scoffs at his answer but Kurogiri nods, understanding. "Very well," Kurogiri says, motioning to everyone in the room. All eyes turn to Tomura. Tomura leans back into his chair and speaks, voice icy and void of anything but utter madness, "Time to set the stage for the next Act."

Chapter 5 - The Obstinate King

Two months. It's a short time, but feels like an eternity to one Enji Todoroki, 36th ruler of Doryoku, heir to the great fire of Honoo and sire to the prince of promise. Two months. That's how long he must wait before the new era begins. That's how long he must wait before the start of the fall of men. Two months. A lifetime he has spent preparing. Two months. Until the Gyousei is set to fall, over the clear blue sky of Doryoku. Two months. Every sacrifice will have meaning, every struggle will have worth, and every drop of blood, sweat, and tears will not have fallen in vain. Two months. And come what may, no matter the might or magic, Doryoku will remain standing. Even if it means standing over the ashes of age-old allies. It will be worth it all, he tells himself, looking over the royal capital from the tallest tower of his castle, streets below lit up by light lacrymas. It will be worth it all, he tells himself, his back facing the portrait of Honoo Todoroki, first of her name, daughter of the old broken empire and mother of rebirth. It will be worth it all, he tells himself as he's told himself over and over since the death of his father, since he heard the prophecy of the end, since he realized just what he would have to do to give his kingdom absolute victory.

Chapter 6 - The Chosen, The Anomaly, Sui Generis

Izuku wakes to the shrill sound of the tea pot that sits on one of the many desks inside his family's study, the one placed right by the study's door. He slides off his chair when he does so, groaning from where he lays on the floor as the tea pot keeps calling for him. He knows his mom must have left it there earlier, being an even earlier riser than he. She's likely already at the Royal Library. The sun's first rays pour in from the large window to the side of large room, bringing light into the darkness. He rolls onto his back, pushing the chair further back with his legs, before rubbing away the sleep from his eyes with his hands. He raises them with a sigh, blinking into focus. Even in this small light he sees his hands clearly; he sees the multiple scars that run over all ten of his fingers, and the bigger, larger scars that run half way to his elbow on his right arm. Scars tell a story, he remembers being told once. But does it even matter if I don't know said story, he wonders, feels his agitation work its way up his throat as he flops back onto his stomach with a groan. Thoughts for another day, he promises himself, as he has for the past fifteen years. He makes quick work to stretch his muscles out as he drags himself to his feet and to the tea pot. His neck is too stiff, a constant reminder that he's growing old and doesn't that just suck. He's really gotta invest some time in building a more comfortable chair, something to support his neck- but then again it wouldn't matter much if he's just going to fall asleep face first into his desk anyway. He yawns, grabbing around the tea pot, mindful of the steam coming out of it, to the small plate of orange slices his mom always leaves for him. With his clean hand he reaches for the flower-print mitt, sliding his hand inside it, then grabs the tea pot and slowly pours it into the empty cup that had been left there. He takes a moment to stop chewing as he sets the tea pot back down and breathes in the scent of his mother's home grown kikuka herbs. Belatedly, he realizes he's missing a sock as he lifts his leg up to stretch some more, balanced precariously on one foot. His back pops when he sets it down and he rolls his shoulders and bends slightly backwards before repeating the process with his other leg. He needs to bring a couch into the study. Or his bed. Or better yet, he hears in his mind, a collection of different voices from his mom to the Crown Prince to his jisei, telling him the same thing; stop sleeping on your desk, fix your sleeping schedule, get it together. Yeah, that's not happening, he thinks, only slightly guilty, as he makes his way back to the desk he had fallen asleep on, one mitt-covered hand holding his tea cup and the other the last two orange slices between his fingers. Last night his mom had come for him and Todoroki just before the Royal Library's closing time, approximately an hour before the last bell of the day rang throughout the capital. It was worth it, in multiple ways, seeing the Crown Prince so relaxed as he recalled his favorite parts of book Izuku had suggested to him, seeing a young man of twenty years with not a care in the world as opposed to someone who held a too-heavy weight on his shoulders. He's glad, that in those moments he gets to see his friend like that. On the other hand, he's lost precious hours from sleeping so late as he got everything ready. He could have been gone at the same time as his mom, before the sun rose. He looks over his desk with a frown. Scattered all over the round semi-circle that makes his primary desk and place of work, are his many notes and reference books along with pens, inkwells, and parchments. All of course, coded for his sole benefit. It's a Midoriya habit really, creating a personal code of sorts alongside learning the Royal Library's code that every Head Scribe must memorize for the moment when they are entrusted with the role. Still, while his mom created her's to keep her cooking recipes secret, he's harboring something entirely different in those ink-lines. Something that could be equally his salvation as his doom. But he has more hope than he knows what to do with, so salvation it'll have to be. He sits back into his chair, pushes paper and pens away to make way for his cup of tea. He lets the mitt fall into his lap and keeps the dirty hand from the orange slices near his mouth, biting at the nails as his clean hand sets to sort out everything before he goes off and takes a shower. He pauses at a single sheet of paper, leaning back into his chair as he looks it over, his carefully drawn out ryou-wari, the open, wing-like petals and teeth-like stamens. He takes a quick look to the calendar that rests on the wall by the door of the study. The ryou-wari are set to bloom in a couple of days. He has a day of preparation to get through.

An hour and fifteen minutes, that's how long it take Izuku to clear the mess that is his study- to the best of his abilities-, take a shower, have an complete breakfast, and get his bag ready with everything he would need for the upcoming week. He makes quick work to leave everything as tidy as possible for both his mom and their single maid, miss Arane. Making sure to leave a legible enough note for his mom, he leaves their home. The current Midoriya estate for all intent and purpose is very small in comparison to the estate where his mom was born and raised. The study he's come to call his own is the largest room inside, the rest are just slightly larger than what you'd find in a commoner's home. Not that his mother minds too much, or him for that matter, the new estate being built from the royal coffers instead of the Midoriya's. Not that the king had minded that one bit, Izuku thinks with a grim line at his lips. After all, it was the Crown Prince's magic that burned the old estate down. After all, it was the Crown Prince's fire that burned it down. He shakes his head as he slips his usual white leather gloves on over his scarred hands. No use thinking about that, he tells himself as he makes sure the door is properly locked and the lightning lacrymas by the door are in place. Shouto's better now, has been for years, that's what matters, he reminds himself, walking down the short stone path that leads to the gate of the estate. There's no need to think about the satisfied look on king Enji's face when he saw just how powerful Shouto's magic really was. There's not need to think about it.

The royal capital of Doryoku, Irori though rarely called that, starts bustling to life around midday really, not that people aren't awake before that mind you, but people tend to keep to themselves during the beginning of the day- getting ready to set up shop and the like. Any time after that however was a terrible time to roam the streets if one was in a hurry. So it's easy enough to make his way to where he needs to be, this early in the day. The roads are fairly empty save for the few people and their carriages full of stock making their way towards the inner circle of the city, in front of the royal castle. The shopping district, Gadebo, will at midday open its gates to the general public and until the final bell of the day it will be filled with life. He doesn't need to go there today, however. No, he needs to be just a little further south than that and a little closer to the west, to the district bordering between Gadebo and the district holding the royal army's headquarters, Seishukashi, which cuts off the district Sakaba from the rest of the capital's acknowledged border. No, Izuku needs to make his way to the small district of Kakki.

It takes him about a little over an hour, the eighth bell of the day having rung, to enter Kakki's area. He saves time having hitched rides from the few people he managed to come across on their way to Gadebo and Seishukashi both. Everyone had been kind enough to let him, even those who hadn't quite recognized him as heir to a noble house, though it's always better that way. Once he returns from his trip, however, he needs to go visit those that did recognize him, and give them their thanks properly as custom dictates. He figures out the little favors he can pull off, on the ride to district Kakki. He bids old Mister Kurisimu farewell, hopping off the back of the man's horse. Mister Kurisimu laughs. "Now you be good, young man, and say hello to your mother for me!" Izuku nods. "Please let the missus know I'll have her next book recommendations for her when I come back!" Mister Kurisimu nods with a smile, before turning back towards the road leading to Seishukashi. Izuku watches as the horse trots away before making his way into the heart of district Kakki. Kakki, like the rest of the smaller districts that have yet to eaten up by a bigger district, is peaceful yet full of motion. The people here setting up their homes and shops together, not bothering to rent out space in Gadebo (if they don't already have it as part of their family lineage) and finding it a bigger comfort to work from their own homes. Small restaurants, inns, flower shops, magic item shops with things other than lacrymas, patisseries, armories not affiliated with the royal army meant for personal designs, and all sorts of other things. Cheaper too, than what one would find within the shops of the district of Gadebo. He waves at those who see him as he makes his way through the small compact streets of Kakki. This is in turn why most carriages don't pass through the district, choosing to go around it instead. When he spots his destination he can't help but hasten his steps a bit in excitement. He smiles at the two floor home, one of the oldest buildings in the district that has by some miracle not fallen completely apart or been renovated besides a patch work here and there. The sign above the open double doors read's the gentle fist. He enters the jack-of-all-trades shop, passes the small pot with flowers from Hosutawa and the many random magical trinkets littered about on the floor and resting against the walls. "Hello?" he calls out, trying to find the bell in the mess that is the front desk. "Anybody home?" Silence greets him. He's on time, he knows he is, and unless they got a very important job to do immediately (and that's doubtful) they wouldn't have left the shop unattended- "You're early," he hears from behind him. Kazuho Haneyama, three years his senior, stands at the doors, arms full with two bags of freshly baked bread from the Taizou's, two street back. "Hello, miss Kazuho," he greets her, reaching for one of the bags. Kazuho rolls her eyes at him. "How many times do I have to tell you to drop the 'miss', already? C'mon, the old man and Kouichi are in the back," she tells him before grumbling that she's told those idiots not to leave the front desk unattended time and time again. Izuku chuckles lightly, following after her past the front desk and into the door that leads further inside. They pass the small space that consists of the kitchen and dining area, the doors that lead to bedrooms, and the workshop that's an even bigger mess than the front of the store. The last door and room at the end of the building is where Izuku needs to be. "Hey, he's here already," Kazuho announces as she opens the door and steps inside. There's another work table in this room too, though surprisingly enough it isn't like the clutters from before. Kouichi Haimawari, seven years his senior, sits on a high stool, magik pen in hand ready to write another sign into the lacryma in his hand to infuse it with magic. "Oh, hey Izuku!" he greets him. Their jisei- master sits on a too small sofa for his larger than life frame. The man's head turns their way and he breaks out a grin that's more teeth than anything else. As always he has a visible scar on the left side of his face that catches everyone's attention and his eyes, though turned their way, look at nothing. The man's blindness has never stopped him though. "You're losing daylight, boy," Takeshi Kuroiwa laughs. Kazuho snorts. "Yeah right, he's early. Anyway, he's got his bread, I'm taking this to the kitchen, he's all yours," she says before exiting the room and closing the door behind her. Izuku sets about taking his things out of his bag and onto the table, careful not to get on Kouichi's way. "Sorry about all this," he tells them, like always, so much in fact that it's practically a greeting by now. He can't get any of the things he needs without being asked too many questions after all. Kuroiwa laughs and Kouichi shakes his head. "It's not problem, just be careful out there at least," Kouichi says, writing onto the lacryma orb, smaller than the regular kind that's manufactured. "Don't be an idiot," their master says. "And bring back results," Kouichi cuts in. "Eventually," Izuku says to him with a laugh. "Eventually." ""Sides," Kouichi starts, squinting one eye at the lacryma orb as his signs get smaller and smaller, surprising finesse with a magik pen Izuku wishes he could replicate. Not that Izuku could use one, ever. "This is still a job, you know. We ain't gonna half ass it and leave you hanging. We do our job correctly, you'll eventually do your other end of the deal." "I'm in no hurry," their master calls from the side, but they both ignore it. "I know," Izuku tells Kouichi, once he's emptied his bag. "Don't worry I haven't forgotten and I'm not giving up." Kouichi looks up at him and smiles. "I know." "So," Izuku starts, looking around the table, "what were you able to get me this time around?" Kouichi sets the lacryma down, having finished with it. He gestures to the table. "Enough protective wards to paralyze a small squad of knights, or bears in this case, the magic circle over there to turn most of everything you're gonna carry around-" "You remember to carry light, boy?" their master calls out. Izuku tells him he did. Kouichi starts again. "Into smaller versions of themselves, like always remember to rip the magic circle in half when you're ready or your bag will explode once you cross the threshold. Old school matches for small fires, just in case! A more than capable set of first aid, bandages, healing creams and ointments along with small temporary sealing wards in case of extreme emergencies, the whole deal!" He gestures to the lacryma he was working on. "My personal lacryma so you can get to your starting point quickly, and," he motions to another lacryma, clear sky blue in color, "an invincibility lacryma to aid in that too. Doesn't last forever though." "Got it." Kouichi motions under the table. "Enough rope to probably last you, if you plan on going off your path." "He won't get lost," master cuts in. "Just in case," Kouichi concedes. "It's thin so just be careful not to use it to lift something too heavy or it'll break apart." Izuku nods, taking care to notice everything. The things they got ready for him and all of his things, from notebooks and pens to extra food. Kouichi motions to the last lacryma, regular size and yellow in color. "The communication lacryma, it's enough for three uses instead of the usual four, sorry that's as much as we could get with the money we had left after this," he says, motioning to the magik pen. "That's fine," Izuku assures him. "I just need it to let you know when I'm about to cross the threshold and then when I return. The extra two are just precautionary, I'm sure I can do with just one more." "Alrighty, and that's it from what you asked fo- ah! That's right!" Kouichi says as he turns in his stool and grabs something hanging from the wall behind him. "Pop-Step's been working on these," referring to Kazuho by her underground broker name. He sets two sheets black magic circles down on the table. "These wards are supposed to mimic her magic, and she's been pouring her magic into them slowly enough over the months to get them to be near untraceable. Near though, not completely, so we won't know-" "Until I step into the forbidden forest and it spits me out because of them," Izuku finishes. "Yeah, so no promises. Come to think of it, she did mention, I think," he says, face scrunching up a bit as he looks to the ceiling, "that she's heard about this rumor about lacrymas that can destroy someone's magic going around in the underground." "It's bullshit," their master's magic cuts in, harder and harsher than Izuku could have ever expected. "It's one thing to naturally be born without magic, it's another thing entirely to get rid of something so vital to a person." Kouichi nods, then shrugs. "Dunno, she mentioned it's just a rumor, so it might not be a big deal or anything." "I'll keep in mind," he says, and he will. Something like that, it's better to always keep an ear open about anything that could potentially harm someone or their ability to use magic. It was during the Lacryma Revolution Era that people with the natural magic to momentarily shut off or weaken another person's magic tried to use lacrymas to rid others of their magic as theirs could barely be considered one to begin with, at the time. The creation of the first magik pen ended up stopping the 70 year long conflict and only by a miracle. "So that's it," Kouichi says, "put all your things on the shrinking magic circle and I'll get started on those first, then the stuff we got you, you'll just have to carry the invincibility lacryma and the lacryma that holds my magic in it and you'll be good to go!" "That's fine," Izuku says, as he sets his record keeping notebooks, the pens, ink well, reference book, drawing book, canned food and fresh bread on the circle. He steps back as Kouichi bites into his thumb, placing the bloody finger tip on it. Magic rises from the corners of the magic circle in threads of white light, reaching over the contents on top of it to come together then expanding leaving a dome of white light over Izuku's things. It glows for ten seconds before it opens, much like a flower bud would. The magic dissipates, inside the things he'd brought over, that he'd have to carry in both arms, now fit on the palm of his hand. They repeat the process with the rest of the things save for Kazuho's sheets of magic circles. "And done," Kouichi says, handing everything to Izuku with great care. "Go have an adventure, try not to come back with any big scars and please, please don't die." Izuku laughs, setting the tools into his bag, making sure to put the right things in the correct pockets. He doesn't want his bag to rip open because everything came to it's true size in a pocket too small. He carefully folds the shrinking magic circle until it's small enough to fit into the breast pocket of his green vest. "Not planning on it. It's just a small trip to Oumaga, remember?" he says, conspiratorially. As far as his mom knows from his note, as far as his friends know, and as far as the Crown Prince knows, he's just going to take a small trip to the town of Oumaga, bordering Doryouku and the kingdom of Hosutawa. A small trip no longer than a week and a half tops. Kouichi laughs. "No, seriously though." "I'll be fine, I'll be taking great care, promise," he tells him before turning to their master. Jisei Kuroiwa senses this and grins at him, at his general area. "This ain't no field trip. You're going into the Forbidden Forest, the one place no one is supposed to go to or there will be consequences." Izuku knows this. "Don't do anything stupid," the old man says, motioning to his scar and unseeing eyes. "You remember the three rules?" "No magic inside the Forbidden Forest, save for that which already exists there," he starts reciting. "Do not harm any of the creatures there and they will be your friends, to the point that they'll to bring you edible fruits and berries. And lastly," Izuku pauses, taking a deep breath, "If you come across the guardian of the forest, avert your eyes, bow your head, kneel if necessary, until you feel them move on. Or else." "Or else," his jisei nods along. "That shitty golden stag is way too territorial if you ask me," he says with a snort. "But hey, it's that guy's turf, it's their rules." "I understand." "Careful with your little experiments," he warns him, "I never really tried taking any of the plants around, I can't say what'll happen if you try to take any." "I'm mostly working with fallen leaves or stems when I do bring things over, nothing's been out of the ordinary yet. If this next batch grows well enough I'll see what I can do to bring a fresh specimen over," Izuku says. "That place is enormous, I'm sure there's something there capable of healing grave wounds." His work depends on it. To be even be considered to be allowed to take the alchemist-healer exam, he needs to prove he doesn't need magic. To heal jisei Kuroiwa's blindness caused by magic within the forest itself. To heal the legs of Tenya's older brother, Tensei, the heir to house Iida. To show he's more than worthy of being Head Scribe from his own merits, and not just a lucky, poor soul who was born into his position despite his disability, the words of king Enji. To prove most of all, that it doesn't matter who his father was, only who Izuku himself is.

Notes:

Ch3

For the curious, All Might isn't immortal but there is a reason why and how he's managed to live for as long as he has which will be brought up during his future POV chapters!

Ch4

I know regardless if you buy into the 'Dabi is a Todoroki' theory or not, Dabi in canon still chooses not to give out his real name until the time is right. Circumstances are a bit different in this AU however, so his status as the second prince of Doryoku is more or less an open secret (to those who recognize him as such anyway)- that no one points out if they know what's good for them!

Sakaba is taken from 酒場 which means 'pub' or 'bar', in reference to Kurogiri's bar may it rest in peace amen

Akutou comes from 悪党 which means 'villain', because I am as subtle as a sledgehammer to the knee.

Another thing brought over from Fire Emblem, like Yaomomo's outfit, is Shiggy's crown which is based on Mikoto's from FE: Fates of course with slight changes and being black in color.

Shiggy's outfit is partially inspired by this fanart please go like and reblog from the artists blog!

Video games don't exists in this AU, so I guess Shiggy's gotta be a theater brat ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ch6

#Irori is taken from 囲炉裏 or 'sunken hearth'

#Gadebo is just 'bodega', spanish for convenience store/mini mart, and the district itself is more or less a huge, and I mean huuuuge, farmer's market/shopping mall

#Seishukashi comes from 聖守護天使 or holy guardian angel, but taking the 天 "sky" and switching it in with 火 "fire",

#Kakki is taken from 客気 or rashness

#bakudeku #katsudeku #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #my hero academia

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