Wildflowers

by SevenRenny

They were hardworking people, her Mom and Dad. And she was grateful for that. Their small community in the woods allowed for accesses to water, food, and shelter. She was faring better than others. She was grateful for that. The call to unite with her One and Only had her torn in two. Her tribe, or her happiness? IzuOcha. Note: Rating for violence and dark themes.

Warnings: sexism, animal skinning/corpses, mentions of domestic violence, descriptions of animal behavior, mentions of torture, descriptions of violence, ambiguity

Notes: alternate universe, fictional clan/tribal traditions, soul-mate AU, Rating for violence and dark themes, experimental writing

Wildflowers

SevenRenny

They were hardworking people, her Mom and Dad. And she was grateful for that.

Everyone liked her Mom and Dad. They were lower class, but still well-liked, and would often receive gift baskets of nuts and vegetables and whatever was in season. She was grateful for that.

Their small community in the woods allowed for accesses to water, food and supplies for shelter. She was grateful for that.

So Ochaco felt obliged to go along with whoever her dad would pick for her. He said he'd find the kindest boy for her. Most dads around didn't take their daughter's considerations into account. Most of the married ladies she knew had been married without their knowledge. The clan chief, or relatives of his, would need to speak with the fathers and future husbands, to approve or disapprove, to be present for payment exchanges.

Outside the hut, shirtless and barefoot, the large man sharpened the end of another stick before tossing it into the pail of spears. Her Dad usually worked on building materials, crafting, helping expand homes, and sometimes assisted around the farm. He did the dirty work, so to speak; or, was allowed to. If it were her or her mother, nobody would want them helping. Basket weaving, pottery, and sandal-making were where they were needed, away from the public's gaze. Useful, of course. People needed sandals and pots. They just needed houses more.

She'd asked if she could help out, though knew there was a slim chance for that to happen.

"Ha ha! You're your dad's girl alright. Just itching to get to work, eh? Tell you what? Why don't you let me finish this off, and maybe you can give me a hand with the pigs."

Her Dad was a nice, loving dad. Something some didn't have.

He let her do what most didn't allow. She sometimes worried she would get him into trouble, with how everyone else disapproved of her behavior. She'd be running out of her parent's A shaped hut to get to him – her loose poncho flapping about – but get stopped by adults, and get asked "Does your father know you're out here?" or "why are you on your own?" or "where do you think you're headed, lady?" while outstretching their arms to block her path. She hadn't known what she'd been doing wrong. Other kids ran around fine. Or… boys ran around fine.

She'd heard it while spilling food for the wild pigs like her Dad had done so many times before.

"Why na' try for a boy? Looks like ya' need one."

Her Dad chuckled and waved the man off. "Got all the help I need."

…

It happened on the night before her seventeenth Birthday.

Snuggled up in furs at the back of the hut – her Mom and Dad snoozing nearby – the chirping of an animal disturbed her peaceful sleep. It sounded too close; next to her left ear. It was still pitch black, and the only sounds heard from the other side of the stick walls were night critters, the brushing of leaves and farm animals making a stir. This chirping was too bright – too energetic for the night. Still sleep-drunk, Ochaco wiggled deeper into her fur blanket. It's only when a ghostly breath blew around her fang earring that she finally jolted up.

She should have been blind at this time. It should've been too dark to see. However, there was a tiny white flame giving off just enough light to highlight outlines. Ochaco blinked to clear her sight. The flame was still there on the ground, standing on tiny feet and cleaning its face with rodent paws. A bushy tail flicked behind it, and the light in the room flickered. The small chipmunk-looking creature had light pink eyes and stood upright. When it crouched, she saw the alternating black, pink, and gray links on its back.

Ochaco quickly glanced at where her Mom and Dad were still sleeping... How had they not heard the noise? The light flickered once more, dimming. The creature became transparent, and like snuffing out a candle, Ockaco was suddenly blind. She was left with so many questions.

…

"You saw it too? Ow–!"

Her Mom chuckled and held her still. The elder giving Ochaco the shoulder tattoo was too used to fidgeting clients to get displeased and continued pricking the girl's ink smeared shoulder with the end of a bamboo thorn, drawing black rings that represented fertility. It was a mark that signaled the change of things. In one hand, it meant she belonged. In the other hand, it also meant she was up for grabs – available. She was used to living with her parents. They were good people. She wasn't sure about everyone else.

"Yes, kept seeing it when I was younger," her Mom said with a gentle smile. "Lead me straight to your father every time. It was the strangest thing." Her Mom grabbed one of her daughter's dangling hair strands and tucked them behind her ear, revealing the decorative fox fang. "I'm glad I saw it. It found me a good man."

The thought was absurd. Was it a spirit? A sort of God? A messenger of some sorts? Was it something that happened to just some individuals? She wouldn't know.

The elder's hut was exposed at the front, her sandals just outside. Some boys ran by, going after a barking dog, their shorter male-ponchos revealing their limbs. Hers only showed her hands, unless she reached for something. Occasional winds blew into the hut, and the end of the front flap – tied to a stick driven into the ground to stay open – breathed with the wind, relieved to have fresh new air in.

…

The chirping was back the second night, and this time, she was much more alert. Her bones still sore from being still in her sleep, it took effort to heave herself up on her elbows. Squinting through dim light, Ochaco spotted the creature peeking at her just outside the hut, as if waiting. It didn't attempt to get any closer but waved its tail impatiently. For a second, it looked to the left, into the distance, before staring at her again.

Would she dare go out? When everyone was asleep?

Mom and Dad were still sleeping nearby, their feet bare and sticking out of the blanket. Part of her wanted to wake them up – to inform them; another part warned her from doing so. This will all be just a dream if you wake them. You'll wake and never find an answer to all this – or something of the like. She hadn't realized she was reaching for her Dad's shoulder.

Maybe just a few minutes? One minute. Nothing more.

Pulling on her poncho, her heart thrummed against her ribcage. Stepping outside in secret felt wrong. It was too quiet outside. No kids or dogs misbehaving. No chickens or men being loud. No feet going back and forth. For when the moon was up, everything temporarily died.

With one last glance at her sleeping parents, she took a brave breath and let the curtain door fall back.

The glowing ball had taken a few hops ahead, to the left, where it had looked at before. It gave her that same expression, that it was in a hurry – that it wanted something. A few steps forward and the creature hopped a few more in response, getting further.

It was taking her somewhere.

Ochaco nervously grabbed the inside of her poncho and tried to huddle into herself for warmth and comfort. This was a terrible idea. She should go back… Passing by other huts, her mind warned her – this was enough. Go back now.

With slight disappointment, she took a step back, and the creature chirped with urgency, scolding her for doing such a thing.

How far was it taking her? Her heart tore in half. Keep going. Go back. Keep going. No. Find out. There's no need to.

Would she be able to sleep? Would it let her? Would she not think about it the whole time?

…Okay, just… just a little more. Then back.

The creature seemed happy with her decision and hopped forward again. It would always wait for her to catch up. She became on high alert when she eventually realized where she was going: outside clan borders. Most homes were now behind her, at a slight distance. The sound of the river could be heard. The line that she was sure she wasn't supposed to go near. This wasn't right. She wasn't allowed out here. Everyone else was back there. Why bring her out here? No one lived out here, as far as she knew.

–She already made it this far, though. Would she have enough courage to do this again? It was too dark – and too far away, to be found out.

Just to the river. No more.

She hadn't seen the river in a few years. Her Dad used to bring her with him over there to collect things and set up fish nets that caught slippery swimmers going downstream.

The chipmunk stood atop a wet stone, one of many lining up around and in the stream. Water foamed around protruding ones. The air was moist with flying water droplets. The creature hopped from one stone to another, stopping at the center of the stream to check if she was following. She wasn't.

"I can't go there," she explained, waving her hands in front of her in defense. She'd never crossed over. Never dared to. That was outside the border. She wasn't even supposed to be out here. "Let's just go back?"

There was a brief noise in the distance. It could've been anything – an animal somewhere, or maybe her imagination, her senses heightened due to anxiety. But the glowing animal swerved to search for something across the forbidden land. Looking. Waiting.

There was the noise again, more human this time. Somewhere out there, there was someone stomping on grass and occasionally yelling.

Someone lived out there.

She hadn't once considered others stepping out of bounds.

A shadow got closer on the other side of the stream. The chipmunk retreated to her side for safety, then stood on hind legs to have a good view of the other side.

Some sort of black rabbit stopped by the stream. It would've been hard to spot with how dark it was, but the green highlights glowed like moonlight. It stood up to inspect the other side – her side – then turned back to the person following it.

The person was panting when he spoke to the rabbit, possibly complaining. She couldn't tell. He was too far away to make out proper words that washed away with the river. He was, however, indeed strange.

He did not wear the usual brown, black and red draping clothes, but had a necklace of feathers around his neck, like a lion's mane, armbands with claws going in different directions, baggy deerskin pants, a belt of shells, and red moccasins.

Time stopped when he looked up. He was not from around here. He didn't look familiar, did not have the usual brown or red hair she was used to seeing and did not have normal clothes. The absence of shoulder tattoo confirmed her suspicion. He looked old enough to have one but didn't.

He was alien. The whole attire, his features – everything. It scared her. The unknown was staring right at her, his expression of bewilderment and shock.

She turned back and ran.

…

"Not hungry, kiddo?" her Dad asked, wiping his chin with the back of his hand while holding on to his corn on the cob.

Her stomach grumbled, but her mind had a tornado. Her squash plate still held a good amount of beans and pumpkin bits and rice. She usually loved this part of the day. Dinnertime was also a group gathering; a feast for everyone, old, young, upper and lower class. Everyone got to eat, with women on one side, and men on the other. It was a reward for everyone's hard work. Fresh meals traveled from one person to another as people sat eating on the floor with food scattered about.

Today, she wasn't feeling it.

"Spaced out. I'm awake now! " she assured her Dad and, to prove it, took a mouthful.

For a split second, his eyes looked at her with uncertainty, but then, he chuckled. "Don't get this much crops every day! Can't let it go to waste."

Should she tell him? She should. Probably. The items that boy wore… they looked traditional. How many more like him were out there? Were they dangerous? She had so many questions. She had to start somewhere to build a clearer picture.

Back at the hut, with her mom, the two of them weaving baskets, Ochaco didn't look up when she asked "Mom?"

"Hmm?" her mother hummed calmly.

"You said you saw something, before you met Dad?" She tried to sound casual about it. Though, with how nervous she felt after the night from before, she figured her mom sensed something but opted to play oblivious for her sake.

"Yes, cute little thing." The older woman stopped tying the basket; put a finger to her chin as she thought, then picked the basket up. "Came out of one of these one night. It took my bracelet right off my wrist." She chuckled at the memory. "I ran after it and bumped into your father. It was the funniest thing. Never got to thank it."

Ochaco tilted her head curiously. "Oohh! Was it just you, mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Like, just you who saw it?"

"Oh!" her mom smiled. "Your Dad had one, too."

"Huh?" That was a piece she hadn't been prepared for.

"Yes, you poor Dad was so angry that night," she laughed at the memory. "Said it– said it kept stepping on his face and kicking things over. I like to think it was trying to get your Dad up and running."

…

She needed time to think it over, she decided that one night in bed while pretending to be asleep. Mom and Dad. Her and that boy. If she told, how would that affect things? Mom and Dad were from the same tribe. Ochaco and the boy were most likely not. She needed more information. So she waited. She waited for it, under the sheet of furs with her eyes wide open.

She didn't see it or hear it, but felt it eyeing her, as if knowing it was being expected. Ochaco slowly got up, tucked her small knife to her thigh before throwing on her loose poncho and following the creature out, taking one last look at her sleeping parents as she put on her sandals.

It took the same exact path as last time. Once she was sure it wasn't going to veer off, she walked in a straight direction, more calmly than before, passing by quiet homes. The moon was welcoming. The river was old yet fresh.

She saw his rabbit first. The glowing thing was hard to miss, sitting on a rock by the stream. The boy was on the ground with his legs folded and hands working on jewelry of some sort. The rabbit perked up, stood on hind legs, and thumped on the rock with a foot. The boy immediately looked up from what he was working on. His eyes widened when he saw her, and he hurried to fix up something with stick-like tools before tying it, cutting off the extra and handing it to the rabbit. The animal grabbed it in its mouth and, to Ochaco's surprise, began to jump from one wet rock to the other to cross the body of water.

It stopped at the closest rock to her, but didn't walk onto her side. Bracing herself, she stepped a foot into the stream and gently took the item from the rabbit. It was a necklace. Lots of leathery strings, beads, symmetrically placed animal teeth, and precious pearls.

She looked down at the delivery rabbit. It had rigid green lines around the face and back, like claw marks, she saw, now that it was close enough. It sniffed her fingers, and she stroked its head gratefully. It was warmer than expected, despite being slightly wet. It retreated back to the other side of the stream once she stepped away with the gift in hand.

The boy looked bashful, smiling shyly and twiddling his thumbs nervously. He looked timider, and he hadn't tried to cross or call out so far. It was reassuring, knowing this stranger wouldn't step onto her side.

She fiddled with the gift. It was a gentle approach – a friendly approach. He wanted interaction but didn't want to scare her off. The fact that he went and pulled this together meant he had been thinking of last night just as hard as she.

She gave him a wide smile and held the gift up. "Thank you!" she yelled to him, before putting the necklace on. His cheeks turned pink, his smile gentle and sweet, relieved, happy.

All through the night, they both sat by the stream, neither one attempting to reach the other. Water glistened and sprayed. Black rocks in the night looked cold. The boy got comfortable over the grass, resting on his side with his arm outstretched in front of him, still gazing at her from afar with tired eyes. She grabbed the inside of her poncho and blanketed herself with it before slowly, clumsily, falling to her side. She exhaled and the grass by her face danced.

Animals of the dark sung their love songs. Fat frogs huffed and called. Lonely crickets found each other. Newly paired beavers dragged sticks in their mouths to the riverbank, working on a home. Silent feathers glided between branches, flapping near a nest. The owl landed with a vole still in one foot. The owl sitting on eggs greeted it with a peck on the beak. A family of wolves howled from afar.

Her creature slept by her chest in a ball. His rabbit was relaxed with its back legs stretched out, resting flat on its belly with its eyes closed. The sun was raising, and she began to notice his details – his scarred upper body, his facial features, the greenish tint to his dark hair. Maybe if she stayed just long enough for more light, she could find out more… She couldn't, though. She was out of nighttime. She was already stretching it. People would be up and walking about soon. A girl out and about by herself would surely get her in trouble.

She hadn't realized how transparent her furry companion had become. It had become a ghost, foggy and not so clear. The same was happening to his rabbit. Perhaps, they were nocturnal, only waking up at night.

The boy got up, stretched, and dusted himself off. She waved to him, flapping her arms over her head. "See ya tomorrow!" she yelled out.

And for the first time, she heard him call back, "Okay!"

The way back was more intense this time. She felt rustling within homes as she passed. A dog barked. The farm animals complained and demanded attention. Her little friend had all but vanished. She had to carry her sandals and walk barefoot in an attempt to make less noise but move faster. There was no sound in her parents' hut. Not yet. So far so good. They were in different positions, but still asleep. Taking off her poncho, she made sure her new necklace was tucked inside. Balling it up, she placed it by her sleeping spot on the ground and dropped over the furs.

Her Mom woke her up a few times. Sleep deprived, she kept falling back asleep. She eventually got up to eat something and get to work. She guessed her Mom had let her sleep a bit longer with how late it was in the day. It was a good thing, too, as skinning animals while still sleepy might have ended with a few errors here and there. She stretched the dead rabbit on it back over the work-stone and made a tiny incision, careful not to cut beyond that thin layer.

"Still tired, dear?" her Mom asked as she worked on another rabbit nearby. The corpse flopped about as the woman worked on separating it from its fur, exposing its pink nakedness, shiny and slippery.

Ochaco yawned. "Yeah… guess I didn't sleep too good last night." She slipped her hand into the hole she'd created and began to carefully separate the furry layer off the body.

"Uncle could be right," her Mom joked… maybe. "Maybe you'll need your own place soon."

Ochaco almost hit herself with the rabbit's foot while peeling the fur off its thigh.

"I'm messing with you, dear. You need a better knife there?" Her Mom turned to hang her naked rabbit by the feet.

…

She felt jittery. It was hard to pretend to be tired and ready for bed when all she wanted to do was run out. Looking back to check if her parents had fallen asleep, she sat up in her short white dress and reached for her poncho and necklace.

Her Dad grunted and scratching the back of his neck. Her heart jumped to her throat.

"Mmm try to be back before sunrise…" he mumbled.

She stood still for what seemed like centuries. "Dad?" she whispered, checking is this was an imagination.

With an arm over his eyes, he sighed and chuckled a bit. Pulling himself to sit up looked too hard on his overworked back. "Sorry. Heard you and your mom the other day." He brushed his hair back tiredly, laughing. "Your one lucky girl if that's what he gave ya," he said, pointing to her necklace.

She felt the soft leather, the hard pearls. She sat by him and let him see it.

He examined the pearls carefully between his large fingers. "That's mighty fine, I gotta say." He then touched her cheek. "Go get your boy, now."

Her smile came out wobbly as she resisted crying. Attacking him in a tight hug, she whispered a quick 'love you, Dad'.

He chuckled. "Off you go, now. Don't let anyone see ya walking about, ya hear?"

"Okay!"

"And take your knife!" His wife snorted at that but continued to pretend to sleep.

"I got it!" Ochaco assured him. "Thanks, Dad!" She said happily, then added, "–thanks, Mom!" She ran out all giddy, her heart pumping and ready to burst if she didn't release this energy. Her little creature appeared beside her, running and climbing atop tents and wooden sticks. Grass blurred and any evidence of humans was left behind.

The boy was by the stream with his rabbit friend, sitting cross-legged. He smiled widely at her, then looked confused when she approached the water's edge.

"Can I come over?" she huffed, gestured to the line of wet stones protruding out of the water.

His eyes widened as he understood. "Be careful!" he yelled, standing up and looking around for a possible safer path.

She already took off her sandals and began to hop from one rough stone to another, missing one and finding out there were more stones piled underneath. She heard him yelp every now and then and she couldn't help but giggle at his reactions. He relaxed after seeing her doing fine on her own. Her chipmunk was following her footsteps, landing on the stones she touched.

She reached his side, and she immediately got too close to have a look at him up close, her face all smiley and bright and happy. He glanced away nervously, unsure what to do. She'd step forward and he'd back away. He was taller, wider, yet, he seemed timider. For some reason, that gave her more courage.

"I'm Ochaco Uraraka. What's your name?" Her extra energy was causing her to have more of a playful mood. He had scars sticking out of his clawed armband, going up his right arm, slithering down his chest and side. She'd never seen such armbands or feathery neckwear like that. He was intriguing. Not the least threatening, despite his scars. He was more cautious of her than she was of him.

"Iz – Izuku. Izuku Midoriya," he stuttered.

When he put up his hands defensively, she noted the absence of finger pads she was used to seeing on everyone. Tilting her head curiously, she looked down at her own hand, then splayed them out in front of her, seeing the difference between their hands. His was longer while hers was more rounded. He also noticed her fingers, from how his eyes focused on them. Their palms hovered close but never got to touch.

He retracted his hand. "Your fingers… they have those things." He rubbed the tip of his own finger.

"Uh huh!" She thought it was oddly cute, the way he took interest in something she never thought much of in her life.

"Can you still… feel things through them?"

"Yupe!" She clapped happily. She knew, at the back of her mind, meeting him wasn't that safe. At the same time, the whole ordeal was thrilling. It was a mix of danger and pleasant and it was all so much to take in.

There was an excited hop to her step as she circled him, examined him from all around. He looked so confused, craning his neck back to watch her. He did have a tattoo; on his back. A bird – possibly a bird of prey, based on the curved beak and claws. The wings stretched to the back of his shoulders.

Her mouth opened slightly in amazement. "Wow… that's so cool."

He checked over his shoulder. "Oh, the eagle? I really can't see it."

"Do you know how it looks?" she asked curiously.

"Saw it on my mentor and some of the boys who passed the final exam. I assume it's like that."

She perked up. "There are others like you?"

He chuckled nervously. "Li – Like me…? There're more people. Village is a bit far from here. I have to get a running start to run up here." He turned back and pointed somewhere downstream. "North from here. We're downhill so I have to climb up."

"How come I never heard of you? You and your…?"

"My people? We just settled around here. We were suspicious on the first few days here. Kept seeing smoke in the sky. It wasn't from our camps so we figured someone was out there."

Did her people know of them? Had they noticed their activities? Another society lived right nearby. Someone had to take notice… or were they so confident no one was out there, they let their guards down and let simple things slip by?

Her chipmunk and his rabbit were sniffing each other's noses. The bigger creature rubbed its chin against the chipmunk's head. The smaller creature stood on hind legs and was grabbing at the rabbit's face.

"Walk with me? If you want?" He gestured to go upstream, reading her face carefully.

Some of his scars were from Training Camp, she learned. Others were from hunting or defending. His Dad and mentor wasn't his blood father, but according to Izuku, he was still his Dad. The man was of ill health, so Izuku was pushing himself to prove himself. Training and Exams weren't a sprint through the fields. It sounded like people died through them. The bear claws he wore on his arms were medals from his own achievement. An orphan had gotten too close to a bear den. His arm suffered severely and his hand had healed crooked, but he had saved the boy. She couldn't believe the story. A group of grown men feared to go after bears. He'd gone after it and gone down the cliff with it to protect a boy.

"Weren't you scared?"

"I was. I thought I was going to die…" he admitted with a hint of grief. "I prayed everyone would stay safe. Kota would make it home. Mom would forgive me." The noise of water slipping over rocks reminded them of where moisture in the air was coming from. "I don't regret it. I want to make people feel safe. So kids like Kota don't need to lose their parents. I want them to know, as long as I can stand, I'll protect. It's what I've been training for. It sounds stupid, to put my life on the line like that, but if it means I have a slight chance of saving someone, then I'll try my best. I'll give it my all." He held his position with joy and a grateful smile. He wasn't boasting, but thankful.

The cool wind blew about. A tail of dead leaves and loose feathers swirled between them. Tiny lights blinked like rodent eyes. They both fixated on the circling fireflies. One almost landed on Izuku's nose and Ochaco laughed when he shook his head in response. The shimmering insects trailed between thin trees. Ochaco curiously followed, seeing the lights even brighter here, with leaves protecting them from the light of the moon. Gaps of moonlight seeped through large patches of grassy lands.

She caught his distinct eyes watching her from behind a branch. A yellow star reflected off his eye as a firefly swam in the air. She knew he saw her going around the tree for him. But he didn't turn. Instead, he let her fake tackle him, both running out laughing like children, kicking loose grass behind. She had anticipated for him to jump back and ended up bumping noses with him when he wasn't quick enough. It was accidental, and if it were on purpose, she'd only done this sort of thing to her parents. It was a simple affectionate gesture, one she never thought she'd see herself doing to another person outside of her family.

He froze like stone mid-step and fell backward like a stick, cheeks turning bright pink. Tranquilized, he landed over a patch of wildflowers and didn't get up. She peeked down at him, tucking back a strand of one of her long side bangs. He looked dazed, sighing, looking up at her through half-closed eyes, his mouth in a goofy smile, his expression of pure bliss.

The pink chipmunk swirled up trees and jumped to another brunch gracefully, fully aware of the rabbit following along below.

Maybe it was the lack of tradition, or human intervention, or simply any knowledge of what was happening, but, perhaps, not knowing was better. Maybe she didn't want to know. Maybe, it was best to not know why she felt so giddy, why he made her feel things, why they didn't need words, why they could get away with acting so mindless, or why she didn't feel homesick.

She could blame it on Spring Fever.

…

He walked her back to the stream when dark started forming colors again. She'd told him she needed to head back soon. Her people would start thinking things if they were to see her out and about at this time. He'd glance at her with the need to ask more regarding her curfew whenever she mentioned the need to go back. He never did say anything.

"Does anyone know you're here? Seeing me, I mean?" he asked carefully, pointing to the grass beneath them, their side.

"Think just Mom and Dad. They didn't mind."

"Will… we need to worry if anyone else knows?" He figured out she didn't have much freedom moving around. Or, they – her people – never let her. He was missing bits of information from this new social structure. How they worked and why they did so was peculiar to him. "My parents know about–" he gestured to the rabbit that kept cleaning and nibbling at the tip of its long ear. "They… said they had one of their own. Like Spirit Guides intervening? If you guys have those…?" He scratched the side of his head as he tried to explain.

The blank look on her face told him she didn't understand.

"Okay." He took a deep breath. One would think he was getting ready to hike up a mountain. "Okay, so… there's…there's this thing. In here." He placed a hand flat against his chest. "It's like your heart, but not… not physically. It's still connected to you. It tries to keep you alive, help you survive better. It's… another form of you, if... that… makes sense?"

"Little bit." Ochaco was still weirded out by all this information. She looked down at the chipmunk that kept going around the rabbit in circles. "My parents had them, too. It didn't sound like they knew what they saw."

"I guess we talk about them more where I come from."

Where he came from. Where she came from. It was a mess. She hadn't had male friends since she turned seven and girls and boys had to be separated to become men and women. She hadn't known what she was missing out on, until now. How many nice individuals was she not allowed to meet because people liked to know everything was in its place?

"I need to hurry home." She stepped onto the first stone and turned to face him. "Thanks. I had fun today."

He blushed and looked down, not knowing how to respond to that. "It was nice… Are you going to be here tomorrow?"

He got his answer in the form of a happy nudge of her face against his cheek. She giggled at how his eye widened and face flared. His hair seemed to almost puff up like the feathers of a flustered bird.

"I'll see you later!" she laughed and jumped her way back to the other side, ignoring her own massive blush on her way home.

The chipmunk had faded without her noticing. Her energy had been sapped away by the time she reached her bed of furs. On her belly, hugging the extra furs to her face, she sighed with content.

"Morning," her Dad teased from his side of the hut.

"Night," she said tiredly.

"I'm guessing it went well," her Dad commented amusingly.

"Mm-hmm..." she hummed, too exhausted and drained to lift her head.

"Nothing too wild?"

"Mmm… no…"

"Anything I should be worried about?"

She shook her head, nuzzling her blanket at the same time. She'd... she'd tell him later.

"He didn't try anything?"

"Mmno. He was sweet."

Her mother saved her from any more interrogations. "Come on, now. Leave her alone. She came home fine, honey." She sounded very pleased. A pleasant chuckle escaped her throat. "Spring Fever hit her hard there."

"Just don't get too frisky with him," her Dad commented casually, turning over in his bed of furs.

She couldn't believe this. "Daaad!" Maybe tucking her head away would dull his voice out? Yeah, that would do.

"Just saying. This messes with your head. I know your Mom and me–"

"Dad, stop!" She'd buried herself under blankets.

…

Okay, maybe she should've mentioned something sooner. Maybe. Possibly.

"That name doesn't sound familiar," her Mom said as she slit open the stomach of a skinned deer carcass. "Do you know where he lives by?"

Ochaco tried not to cringe, more in response to the topic of conversation and less to do with the slippery innards that were just pulled right out of the animal. She kept the long front legs pinned together to keep the whole body from spinning as it hung by its back legs. "Yeah… it's… not somewhere you and Dad might know…" Well, she knew where he might be living; just not the exact location.

The need to keep tight-lipped chocked her. Other women walked back and forth occasionally, working on food that would later be gathered for dinner. She couldn't talk about this. Might be why her Mom had asked in a quieter voice.

"Hmm…" her mother thought for a minute, her moistened hands moving automatically with the knife to cut the pink body into smaller, easier to handle parts. She waited until the elderly woman with wrinkly fingers took the organs in a basket and left, presumably to keep working. "A bit far from here?"

How far was she referring to?

Too far. Ochaco had her suspicions.

"…a little."

"How odd," her Mom commented, seemingly unperturbed. She cut off a leg by the shoulder. "Out there?" She didn't gesture to anywhere. She slapped the leg flat against a rock and began carving by the elbow joint.

"…yeah." Ochaco's eyed the bodies of women from afar, not sure if she should keep watch or read her mother's expression. She tried to look busy, holding the carcass by the ribs.

"Very odd." Shoulder and leg put aside for someone to take, she turned back to the deer and ran the knife along the spine, ignoring the crunching sound. "Can't wait to meet Mr. Mysterious, then."

"You're not mad?" Ochaco asked, peeking from the side of the carcass she held onto.

Her mother chuckled. "No, honey. Why would I be? Just tell your Dad later. He might want to know that tinsy little detail."

…

Her parents stayed up with her that night. She didn't know how they'd take this, though they assured her it was fine. Or, they didn't see a reason to be concerned, yet; as her Dad put it: "can't make an assumption if I haven't seen the lad." Izuku wouldn't know her parents would be coming along this night. She didn't know what to expect. Izuku was friendly with her, and her parents were generally friendly people. However, there was still a major divider to consider. Izuku wasn't from here, and she wasn't sure how her parents would react to that.

In their cozy hut, her little partner slowly flickered to life, this time, in front of her much awake parents.

"Well, look at that." Her dad sat cross-legged and bent forward to look at it more closely. "A bit different from what I remember." He offered it a finger to sniff, but it ran for the exit and waited there.

"Eager." He laughed and got up, dusting his pants.

Her Mom got her own poncho on. "Alright. Lead the way."

She was sure no one else around here would've approved of how her parents were handling this. Most would've been angry, devastated, to know their daughter was sneaking out at night to see a boy. She'd heard of those who 'got caught with a boy' and got belted, or that one who got dragged back home by the hair and was seen two days later with handprint welts and cut marks from a cane. Words traveled fast around small communities. Everyone knew everyone. She was lucky to have her Mom and Dad.

She was grateful for them.

Evidence of civilization was left behind them at a distance. The further they went, the more nervous Ochaco felt. She'd told them it was 'a little far'. Were they expecting this far?

Concerns were briefly put aside when she saw him where he was expected. Upon seeing her parents, his relaxed posture was replaced with stiffness. He was watching them, studying them – gathering clues beforehand. His rabbit thumped on the ground with its back legs, alarmed.

Her Dad waved at him, letting him know their presence. "You weren't kidding about him being far." He then gave her a gentle push forward. "Go calm him down. He looks like he's using his brain too hard over there. See if you can get him to come over here." Go on. Go get him. Indeed, it looked as though he was contemplating crossing over.

They were taking everything surprisingly well. It was possible they had so many questions, but didn't want to pressure her.

She made her way over, each step over a rock as careful as the other.

He spoke first. "Are they your parents?" He still had his eyes on them, surprised by their sudden arrival.

"Yeah. You'd you guess?"

"You look a lot like your mom," he informed, nodding at her mother.

"I get that a lot. They wanted to see you. Sorry if this surprised you," she said meekly.

"Just got worried for a second. I thought you were being followed," he confessed.

"Dad miiight want to talk to you." She saw him eyeing her Dad nervously. "He's nice! Really!" she added quickly. For being a big softy, she sometimes forgot how people saw her Dad as a menacing looking man. He was large. That was enough to intimidate most. She felt sorry for catching Izuku off guard. He probably hadn't prepared any speech (or enough confidence) for this occasion in that short amount of time.

"–smaller than I thought." She heard her Dad comment from afar. Though, it seemed like he changed his opinion as soon as Izuku actually made it to their side. "Never mind. The heck do you do in your mornings, boy? Lift bison?" he said jokingly, lifting Izuku's well-built, brace-covered, scar littered arm for emphasis. Poor thing just made it over and was already getting manhandled.

"Uh…" Izuku didn't know how to respond, or what the man was referring to in the first place.

"He's certainly a cutie." Her mom decided he could handle a bit more teasing. "Interesting choice of attire, have to say." She flicked the front of the feathers around his neck.

"Uhhh… umm…"

Her Dad chuckled and messed his hair roughly. "Alright, alright. Didn't mean to get you tongue-tied there, kiddo. I'm guessin' you're Izuku Boy?"

"Uh – yes, sir."

Ochaco snorted. Sir.

"Your parents know you're out here?"

"Yes, sir."

"They know what you're doin?"

Nervous but still holding his ground, Izuku kept going. "Yes. They're okay with it."

Her Dad eyed him warily. "They fine with outsiders?"

Izuku had to look down submissively, submitting to the older man before him. He wanted to be on good terms. "My Dad was an outsider. We're fine with that."

Her Dad studied his posture carefully, taking his time doing so. "Can you get them to come here next time? We need to discuss matters. Can you do that?"

"I'll talk to them," Izuku promised.

Her Dad searched him up and down, then glanced at the rabbit that let the chipmunk sniff it's nose. He smirked. "Alright. You're good, for now. Go on, now."

Izuku brightened at that.

Ochaco hugged the man tightly in gratitude.

"Alright. Go have fun," he laughed and patted her head.

She wasted no time circling Izuku playfully before stepping over the usual rocks protruding out of the water. The boy glanced at her parents occasionally as he followed, but ran after her once she picked up speed on the other side.

"Not too much fun!" the man shouted. "Be back before sunri-y –They're gone." He gave up when it didn't look like he was being heard.

His wife nudged him. "What do you think? Seems sweet enough to me."

He sighed and stretched to pop his back. "So far so good." He watched his daughter and the boy disappear into the trees. "Let's see how this goes."

…

The short carpets of blue and purple flowers got thinner and thinner as they went up the sloped ground. There was a thin stream running down deeper grounds, tiny water trickles with short greenery budding around the sides. They hopped over a years-old fallen tree covered in vegetation. A Robin tweeted from up a tree somewhere, concealed by black dark branches. She never managed to see those birds; just heard them.

She didn't know when their running turned into a game of tag. He maneuvered better, though she figured he'd trained to be swift and fast rather than worry about growing big and hulky. He was physically smaller than the boys she was used to observing back home. He took full advantage of that. The way he scanned his surroundings for easy pathways and used obstacles to his advantage, climbing over them quickly, hiding behind them to block her path and trick her into thinking he went one way – he was one with the environment when he focused. From the way he tackled her, she knew he had strength he was holding back. At the same time, she felt her own sore muscles painfully squeeze with growing strength from yesterday's run with him. He wasn't born strong, (neither was she) but he trained to get this strong. That was something she could do as well.

She learned a thing or two from how he moved. She didn't get up after being tackled down into tall grass. Waiting for him to check on her, she jumped out, taking him by surprise. It was hard to tell who was 'it'. Little words were exchanged.

A wolf howl caused them to pause. They were panting and sweating but delighted for reasons unknown. He observed the sparkles in the sky. The winds moved branches, making it seem as though the howl was strong enough to shake trees. It sounded like it had no end to it. The prolonged call stayed level, then slowly died down.

She almost had a heart attack when Izuku mimicked it with hands cupping the sides of his mouth. Among the confusion, she was sure she went temporarily deaf on the left ear.

"Sorry," he chuckled at her confused reaction. "I guess Mom wanted someone to check on me."

"That…" She looked at the direction of the sound. "That was a person?"

"Yeah. Sounded like Kirishima. Friend from class."

The howl came again, varying in vocal tones this time, followed by what Ochaco assumed was another person howling. This second one sounded angry and more human. In fact, it ended more like a shout at the end, like whoever was doing that just gave up trying to sound like an animal.

Izuku winced at that. "And… and Kacchan."

"He sounds angry."

"He's always like that."

"Your friends sound fun," she told him, laughing lightly.

…

He did, indeed, bring his parents the next night.

She could tell the chubby woman in grey animal fur and white feathers was his mother. His father was… surprising. Izuku had told her he wasn't related by blood, but seeing him was a shocker. He was so skinny. A twig of a man. How was he alive? His baggy pants hung onto his hips by a belt. He seemed to be swimming in his giant animal fur cape. Those sunken eyes told of his frail health. The massive scar on the side of his chest – with skin caved in slightly at the center – hid a morbid tale. He coughed wetly, and from the sound of it, she suspected he had moisture coming up his throat.

"–so much for first impressions." The man said between coughs.

"Are you alright?" her Mom asked, concerned.

Each family was sitting on the ground, facing the other. Izuku hadn't just brought his family, along with two young men and a girl of surprisingly pink skin to help set up a temporary wooden bridge to help her family cross the river and keep as dry as possible. The platform was of thin logs tied together. It was unnecessary but very welcome. They had started a temporary camp in the forest to prepare for the meeting of families. It was a good thing the rabbit and the chipmunk glowed, or else no one would've been able to see anything. They had decided against starting a fire in fear of attracting attention.

The three youngsters brought over all looked different from one another. "My Dad was an outsider. We're fine with that," – Izuku had said before. It was possible most were from different places. Accepting individuals in seemed to be a normal thing. They went about bringing things over: sliced apples, some dried leaves, hand carved bowls with a fruit extract of some sort, and clothes with symbols.

The Uraraka's weren't impressed by just the people, but… whatever those animals were as well.

A yellow-golden eagle sat on Yagi's shoulder. He didn't react to having a bird of prey using him as a perch. There was also a green hedgehog sleeping by his wife, and in the distance, two glowing animals: a coyote of orange and black, and… some sort of red lizard that kept annoying it with its tail… was that a caiman Spirit? It wasn't clear which belonged to whom.

The skinny man flexed his arms. "Don't worry. This old man can still go uphill no proble–" he coughed and rubbed at his chest.

"You didn't need to do all this, really."

Izuku's mother handed them tiny bowls. "It's alright. We're grateful you both made it."

There was commotion on the side. That one with red eyes yelled and chucked a wooden bowl at someone the red-haired one's direction, something about being 'in bed by now'.

Oh, yeah… They had to screw up their sleeping schedules to get here. It was surprising how no one had fallen asleep through the meeting. Contagious yawning kept coming and going.

"Do you go walking around with–" her Dad nodded at the bird on Yagi's shoulder. "–on you?"

The man laughed tiredly, poor health bringing him down. "Only on some nights. Surprised you held off asking for this long."

Her Dad laughed. "Kind of hard to ignore."

"I used to see one like these." Her Mom scratched the chipmunk's head. "Stopped showing up after we married."

Inko and Yagi looked at each other, expecting one to share their thoughts on the matter.

"Well–"

"You see…"

They accidentally interrupted each other. Chuckling at the mess-up, they tried again.

"It's–"

"He – I'm sorry," Inko laughed shyly. "You can go ahead." She waved at him to keep going.

"As – as you wish," the skinny man chuckled and cleared his throat. "You see, where I came from, I learned a few things. A sort of ceremony, if you will. A sort of language for Whispers? It lets them know we'd like their company longer… Oh, that's – that's what we called them there." He pointed a thumb at the eagle on his shoulder upon seeing the blank faces in front of him. "They show themselves when two partners need to meet, but after that, their job is done. They're there. Just can't see them, unless you tell them to."

There was so much information; Ochaco didn't know which to focus on. They were thee so partners could find each other… but… she already found Izuku. Her chipmunk was still visible. Was there a step to 'joining' he wasn't mentioning. She then remembered what her mother: "Stopped showing up after we married." She'd said. It was either marriage, or possibly… consummation… night. She had to banish the thought before she thought too deeply into it. Not now. Not. Now. His parents were here. Her parents were here. Priorities.

Turned out their marriage was slightly different. It was mostly up to the bride and the groom to move things along, not the parents or grandparents. They had to be the ones meeting and deciding. Parents were just back-up: advisors with experience.

"Bridal price?" Yagi, the skinny man, asked. He'd paused with the bowl in his hand.

Her Dad scratched the back of his head. "Yeeaaahh, that's how it's done there. I don't think it's necessary. I mean, this whole thing is unconventional as it is."

Yagi thought with the bowl just up to his lips. "How do you transfer payment, if I might ask?" His bird scratched at its wing with its beak. It was hard to focus on Yagi with that thing there.

Her Dad sipped from the tiny bowl. "Depends on which family you come from and which you're giving to. It's complicated." Some didn't marry into other families; he forgot (or decided not to) mention. There was no reason, as far as she knew. Just that some would rather 'keep it in the family', stay pure, and not mix.

Yagi sat his bowl down and clapped his hands together. "I have a proposition, if you're willing to hear."

"Go on," her Mom waved for him to continue.

"How about you take a look at our headquarters tomorrow? I'll let everyone know of your visit. Most are friendly to strangers."

"Your chief won't mind?"

The skinny man smirked and pointed at himself with a thumb. "Oh, I am the chief. Not to worry."

Someone forgot to mention that tiny detail.

…

Even when she went home and tried to sleep the rest of the day off, the news was still fresh in her mind. That was Izuku's father? Izuku was the son of a chief the whole time? How did… But… Wasn't he 'an outsider'? Had he battled and won for his spot? Was he chief somewhere else before marrying into the family, or was the chiefly position operated with different rules?

She got to sleep while her parents went off to work on their usual daily tasks of the day. Exhausted, she'd slept without taking off her poncho. She was guilty of making them stay up all night, then see them leave to work after only sleeping for a tiny bit. Waking up mid-sleep in the middle of the day made her realize just how bright the sun was. The light went through the fabric of the hut walls and brightened the inside, just enough for her to see what was where, but not dark enough for her to close her eyelids without seeing stars. She pulled the fur blanket over her head in an attempt to block out any light.

What would it be like, over there? How would these nightly visits affect both sides? Would she need to move with him? Or would that mean the union of both sides?

There was movement nearby, like the rubbing of clothes. Had she gone back to sleep? Her Mom had to have come to wake her to help out. She didn't feel rested, though. It felt more like she'd woken up in the middle of a deep slumber and was still half asleep. Her eyes fought to stay closed.

Her eyes adjusted to the abnormal black shapes. Three… four humanoid figures stood over her.

Strangers. Strange men.

Alarms went off in her head.

The beginning of her gasp was interrupted quickly. A hand slammed her head down. A flurry of black and brown blurred her vision as her own blanket was wrapped around her. Being jostled around while blind, she heard them huff as they hurried with binding something else over her. Her screaming was muffled and strangled as she pawed at her cocoon, pushing around for an opening. Panic numbed her fingers. It was damp, hard to breathe. She yelped when something grabbed her feet through the fur and violently pulled her across the floor, dragging her in a hurry.

Sunlight seeped through her blanket. The fur cover heated up. She kept her fisted hands pushing at the blanket, away from her face to allow for breathing room. Her spine curved sideways. Her throat scratched and vibrated dryly. Was she yelling? The sound of blood rushing through her ears deafened her. Her rapid breathing moistened the air in front of her. What sounded like dirt crunched against her moving weight.

What was happening? There were too many sounds, but no voices. Everything happened to fast. Her blanket muffled everything. Sunlight was covered again. Was this a different home? Her feet were released and her whole lower half slapped the ground like a fish. For a few seconds, she contemplated not moving. Something sliced at whatever kept the blanket tight. She popped her head out and shook her head, clearing the hair away from her face. Some still stuck to her cheek with sweat.

An old man sat on the ground with animal skin stretched out behind him, its edges attached to sticks. Spears and discarded clothing hang from posts. The ceiling had an open hole for light. A wolf-like dog chewed on the meaty end of a long, hoofed animal leg.

The old man with the goat mask. Big, bulky, well-known, missing a finger. An animal rib curved around the back of his neck; antlers aligned the tops of each shoulder. The chief sliced at the apple in his hand, pressing the piece against the tiny blade with his thumb and slipping it underneath the black painted animal skull to feed himself.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you?" His old throat rumbled. The apple in his hand snapped. "Why couldn't you just behave?" He sighed, disappointment reeking from his voice. "Though I might need to thank you for this later."

Her mind went wild; flashes of possible reasons to this predicament. He knew. He knew. How many knew? Her upper half said run – her lower half said freeze. Her heart clawed at her throat.

Her breath hitched at a dreading reminder. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

"Your father could've listened. Should've listened. Wouldn't have been so hard. I warned him," he spoke calmly.

"Where's my Dad?" What did they do to him?

"Lazy man. Wouldn't have been hard, keeping you indoors."

"Where's Mom and Dad?" she repeated firmly, dreading the thought of what her actions had caused.

He didn't use his knife to snap the apple in half. "There's a reason why I told him to keep you in check this spring." He slipped another half apple under the skull's teeth, talking with his mouth full. "I'd ask how long you've been with that boy you opened yourself to, but I'm sure I'll hear denial." He ate the other piece whole. "Word has it you've been fooling around. I believe' em – have seen you do things when you should've been home. And your father just, let it happen."

He knew. He knew. She picked apart his words. 'Word has it' and 'I believe' em'. He hadn't seen her. He'd only heard from people. How much did people know? 'Foolin around' he'd said. 'That boy'. Would he believe her if she were to make something up? Would he let her hid behind lies? It seemed as though he already made up his mind about her.

"I let it. I left you be. I tolerated your behavior. I did. I never once asked of your father to do what he couldn't. He could. He just wouldn't. He decided to go deaf. I let it be. I hear of you walking amongst men, and I let it be. I hear you sleep when you ought to be working with the women. I let it be. But now I hear you skulking about at night with a Whisper at your heel. All the way out there where you thought no one can see. No one to see what you do at night. To bear child with someone out there. To bear child without marriage. You thought I wouldn't see. Every eye in this village is my eye. I would've let it be."

Would've. But wasn't going to, she guessed.

"I would've. You're not worth my time. But then I hear of more people." He raised his hands proudly in front of him. "You brought him to me, so I thank you." Heard from people. He heard assumptions; assumptions that lead to suspicion – suspicion that lead to words spreading and eyes open at night – assumptions that turned into facts. She tried to contain herself, refrain from expressing worry. Don't let anything slip. She had no proof of how much they actually knew.

"What will you do?" she asked. Keep steady. Keep steady. Don't let your inner tornado break out.

His thumb ran across the blade. No more apples left to cut. "What your father should've done years ago." For a blind man, he didn't need eyes to rule.

She heard boys who had brought her in move behind her.

…

Something wasn't right. The ragging, bubbling anxiety threatened to burst. Something – he wasn't sure what – wasn't right. Everyone had halted when the rabbit struck the ground with its foot. It was too early to see his spiritual guardian. Suspiciously too early. It was more aggressive, grunting and attempting to nip at passing feet out of its way – frantic.

It had happened during a party. Someone had a baby. Everyone offered gifts; blankets and food and newly-made items. He got to visit the baby and the family. It had been an awkward exchange, mostly due to his lack of knowledge on what to say. He'd zoned out of the present and into a blurred void in his head. It had been difficult to focus. A seed had planted itself in his mind and was sprouting pictures – worrying things. Memories that weren't his. Voices he'd never heard. Too many voices of an ancient language he didn't understand. He staggered out the new mother's home, and went blind. Eyes wide open – still blind. He blinked. Still blind.

"Are you alright, my boy?" Toshinori touched his shoulder. He'd followed him out.

"I…" Hot flashes. He clutched his head. His own heart punched him. It hurt. Something wasn't right. It wasn't right. "Something's happening…" He could finally see. His fingers were shaking.

"Hey, why's the rabbit here?" Katsuki sounded almost angry at the fact his Spirit Guide appeared outside its usual schedule.

The rabbit thumped with each hop, even jumping onto the skin-stretched drum and drumming with its back leg, trying to sound the alarm louder.

Izuku shared a look with his father and chief, a silent confirmation: something happened on the other side.

…

He was relieved to see her. Relieved she was alive, and angry for everything else. She was roughed up, getting push to walk with her hands tied behind her – dirt on her face and bleeding scratches on visible skin, but his girl looked as angry and determined to struggle free just as he was.

Even when and his wife were tied to a pole in the middle of the village, their backs to each other, they still attempted to stand. The pole they were tied to brought them down.

"Ochaco!" they both yelled for her.

The boy that tried to grab her shoulder screamed. She'd bitten him. She'd bitten him like a dog, and oh boy did it feel good to see that.

She wobbled to them and dropped to her knees to join them on the floor, to bump her head against his in relief before being yanked back. She tried to angle herself on the floor to kick the people grabbing her, her energy low but will to live still high.

"Now, now," the chief said with a hint of amusement, his voice slightly muffled behind the goat skull he wore on his face. "There's no need for all this."

As a father – a father who loved his child dearly – he decided this chief was no chief. "Leave her out of this!" He watched as his girl was tied to another pole. "You're angry at me. Leave my family alone!"

The 'chief' tilted his cane (a bird's skull at the top of it), and rested the skull end beneath the father's chin and forced him to look straight ahead. How a blind man could possibly coordinate this well was a mystery to him. "We're all at fault, my good man."

The father clenched his teeth. The cane left. He heard his wife whesper 'no' under her breath. His fears escalated when he saw why. His daughter – their daughter – tied to the pole with her hands behind her, around the wooden stick. She was breathing heavily, forehead sweating. She shifted uncomfortably. The pole behind her had dark brown smudges. Blood on wood.

His heart dropped to his stomach.

It was impossible to see her back from where he was, but he was sure that new, still-wet color had come off of her skin.

His girl put on a brave face, glaring at the man in charge.

"You think he'll actually get here?" one of the young men who had helped nab her asked the 'chief'.

The masked chief held out his fist. A glowing tail stuck out from underneath. "He will." The chipmunk he squeezed in his hand popped its head out of his fist and attempted to bite the dead skin of his hand. No pain whatsoever, from the look of it.

"How'll this bring the chief, though?" the young men asked.

The 'chief' tossed the animal and it slapped the ground with a pained squeak. It flopped and seemed uncoordinated as it tried to right itself. Its tail curled around its balled up body. It chirped like a bird in a timed manner. A warning call.

"That's it," the chief said. "Call the boy over. His chief will come running."

…

Izuku had seen fights before. Some play-fights, some bloody; most with animals, others with people. Some, he was involved in. He recalled seeing a deer match at some point. Of the days when the skin of trees peeled away by bucks sharpening their antlers; fights would follow. Antlers would clap and tangle with each other. He recalled that deer that bled from its nostrils after its head was shoved down by the opponent and its nose scrapped the ground. They had no sense of their environment when aggression and will kicked in. They'd stomp over puddles, slap branches that got in the way, kick dirt around, drop into pits and still keep twisting necks when antlers locked. The winner most likely had inherited a fawn this spring.

He'd felt that rush before; the one that made him numb to pain and angry enough to throw himself at a bear. This was one of those times, and he didn't know who his opponent was yet. All he knew was that he had to cross the river and find her. His hysteria escalated when Katsuki spotted activity by the stream. They were inspecting the forbidden border. They knew they were coming.

With face paint smeared on and leather ankle straps attached in a hurry, he didn't bother trying to stay dry while crossing the river. As the sky went orange, his chief and his comrades plunged their feet into cold water, glaring ahead at the cowardly figures on land that retreated upon seeing them. Knee-high waters splashed up their thighs. It did not slow them down. Try and stop me. Green spring turned orange fire when the herd crossed waters.

…

The skull cracking headache caused her to lean to the side in an effort to ease her agony. Doing so scrapped the wood against her raw back. Maneuvering her bent knees to the side had taken too much time than she would've liked. The shredded strands of her clothes stuck to the pole with drying blood. Small movements ripped them off the wood. It was worth getting the knife strapped to her thigh.

She hadn't thought her back had been damaged this badly. After all the struggling and kicking and nailing a few people in the process, after refusing to be held down and causing a ruckus, it still felt like she could've done more to avoid this outcome. Adrenalin had masked over the severity of the damage. Now that it was mostly turned off, she began to notice. Leaning awkwardly against the pole to cut at the ropes around her wrist, she took note of how abnormally hot her back felt. It burned. Air simply touching it burned. Tiny movements scratched tender skin. Swelling around the long cuts rose. Lines that did not split turned pink. Lines that did split varied in depth and still swelled around the edges. The memory and action of the infliction hurt more than the actual wounds, she realized. The memory – the sound – was still there, at the back of her head.

Even as she sewed through the surface of ropes, even as her parents kept watch of anyone who might stop by and notice, even as they encouraged her to go on, you almost got it – shame blanketed over her confidence. How dare she let it happen? How could she not have fought harder?

Her vision was getting hazy. Her animal friend was still where it had been dropped. Its fur flurried and it grabbed the ground like it was holding on as if battling winds she did not feel. It struggled against something invisible; perhaps, the line between existence and sleepy void.

The loos strings of her now torn breast bindings dangled uselessly, threatening to slip out from the shredded parts of her clothes. It was hard to keep focused on how fatigue pulled her to the ground. Her thoughts clouded over. She held on to one goal: free her parents. That was all. That was all she needed to do. They could go someone not here. They could rebuild their lives. Start off anew somewhere else. All was not lost. They were well. That was all that mattered. That was all.

A sound glided through her. It was so familiar; sharp and hard to ignore like an arrow. A howl that of hope. The sound of someone declaring their presence, followed by two more howlers, three, five, twelve, more and more. To strangers, their ears were virgin to the sound. It was menacing. To her, it was the sound of reassurance. Don't worry anymore: I am here.

She cut into the ropes with newfound energy. It was difficult to work on something she couldn't see, but she would not fall. Her skin was clammy, breath uneven. She would not fall.

…

A crowd had gathered. The two sides eyed each other wearily. The intruders had formed a protective marching circle and the residents parted, moving out of the way. They weren't sure how to respond to these strange people from who knows where. They were so varied, so alien, and the lack of knowledge of them brought fear of the unknown along. Paranoia. What could possibly happen? Were they under attack? Those outsiders weren't attacking, though. For how small some of them looked, the aura around them sent messages of power. Half of the residents were drowning in confusion; the other half seemed to have expected unwanted visitors, even coming to check the spectacle with weapons and torches in hand.

The chief was called. The outsiders hadn't launched an attack, but still held a wall of anger as they passed through.

Considering their blind chief had taken down their older chief, everyone expected bloodshed. A second war. Some feared the idea of another battle and lost lives, others looked too eager for it.

Both scarred chiefs knew each other, to everyone's surprise.

"Why are you here?" the skeleton man sounded shocked.

"Toshinori. It's been a while," the bigger chief greeted dramatically, throwing his arms open. "Welcome, welcome. I wasn't expecting you so soon."

So soon

One young lad from Toshinori's said stepped forward. "Cut the bullshit, you knew we were coming. Saw your lousy termites spying."

"Tell me," the bigger chief continued, ignoring the boy. "Do you still go by One For All? You'd think, after losing so much, you'd have nothing left to give."

Most in the crowd were left to speculate as to what that meant.

'Toshinori' didn't back down. "As long as I can stand I will do whatever it takes. I don't know how many people you inflected unnecessary pain upon to get your position here, but I won't let you repeat it. I won't let you imprison any more victims when their only crime is not following you, All For One."

The bigger chief stood still with his arms still open, silent, then dropped his arms. "Haven't changed a bit, I see. Still, think my intentions are of ill thought – of selfish reasoning. I'm merely enforcing the law of nature. Strength will never be respected if not enforced. It's how the world works. Doesn't matter what you think. You'll be dead. You can hardly breathe – I can hear it. You know you're dying, that's why you took in the boy to keep your name alive."

For someone looking like the dead, Toshinori's eyes burned. "If it's me you're after, you leave the boy and everyone else out of this."

"Oh, but how can I?" All For One mocked. "You don't care what happens to yourself. Knowing you, crushing the boy's head would be more effective. Just imagine it. Put that picture in your head. It's happening in your head already, isn't it?" He tapped his cane against his skull mask. "Wouldn't be hard. Have done it before. Followers will do whatever I say. That's power. That's respect," the chief said matter-of-factly.

"How dare you…" Toshinori growled, anger rising to a boiling point. "What have you done with the girl?"

"Girl? Oh. The trouble maker. You know, I heard she kept seeing a boy every night. She wasn't worth dealing with. Why would I waste my time with lowlife? I hear she had a Whisper. How cute. Then, I hear the boy brought his adults. A hole in the chest and eagle Whisper on the shoulder. How coincidental. She brought you to me. Something right, for once. I praised her. Don't worry."

Toshinori's group was agitated. Angry. Wanting to attack the masked man but holding back. Some threw insults.

"Where is she?" Toshinori asked, gritting his teeth, waiting to hear the worst.

"Don't see how it matters to you. You're still sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"You attacked all of us when you harmed the girl." It looked like the sickly man was holding back the urge to spear the other chief with his cane.

"You're ready to fight for this girl?" All For One tilted his head. "Very well then. How about a game? Everyone will enjoy it, I assure you."

Toshinori eyed him suspiciously.

The chief raised his cane, as well as his voice, to gain everyone's attention. "You trained the boy, didn't you? How about a One Against Anyone brawl? Settle this easily." The crowd erupted into excited hollers, already accepting the match. "Last game had been too short. The weak chief disappointed me. Hadn't lasted as long as I'd predicted. What do you say? Show me what your boy can do." The weak chief. The old chief. The lost chief. The dead chief. Didn't matter what they called him now. All his sons had lost the game before he, too, joined them.

Toshinori looked horrified; even more so now that the crowd was hyped up. "You're insane."

"I'd say the same to you about your ideals."

The boy from Toshinori's group – the foul mouthed one – stepped forward. "I'll have fun destroying each and every one of you. Come at me!"

Toshinori reached for the boy's shoulder in an attempt to pull him back.

"That the boy you took in?" the chief asked, skeptical.

"Of course I am!" The boy popped his neck. "We doing it here and now or what?" he was impatient.

The crowd had formed a circle, with Toshinor's group cheering for the boy (Katsuki? Bakugo? Was that his name?), and the other side daring who would go first and mocked the boy. He was muscular for his age, but the idea of such a young lade threatening to take down adults was laughable.

As the commotion escalated, the chief fell almost completely silent to pick apart on noises. He had fallen into the background.

"Does he have a Whisper?" he asked one of his followers.

"I don't see one. He doesn't look like who I saw, sir," the follower informed nervously.

The chief took a minute to reply. "So the real chosen boy isn't here." All this was a diversion, he concluded. "Very well."

…

The woman had been about to scream, sound the alarm, before he grabbed her and pressed the cloth to her face and held her by the head until she stopped struggling. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Izuku whispered sadly for the fifth time as he dragged the unconscious to hide somewhere. The flower-based sleeping powder mix had turned the fabric in his hand a swampy green. He hoisted the unconscious body by the armpits and dragged her back between the bushes and the back of a tent, guilt eating away at him.

It was hard to sneak in when he had a glowing rabbit. Someone was bound to check on that light.

There was commotion in the distance where people – mostly men – had gathered. Everyone had their attention elsewhere.

Someone's whimper got muffled over. Izuku had to look for where that came from, finding his friend, Momo, with her clothed hand over the person's face, holding it there from behind the person until he slowly went limp. She caught the body, then made hand gestures to Izuku from afar: Under Control.

Another one of his comrades, Shoto, stepped out of a tent and gave the same signal.

He nodded to them and proceeded with going wherever the rabbit took him. The hot flashes and his racing heart told him he had to hurry. He knew he was being reckless; however, urgency bit into his spine, straightening his stiff back. Like a slithery weasel, his usual stealth and keen eyes helped him navigate around unfamiliar grounds. It would've been easier if the rabbit would stop running ahead.

He grabbed the rabbit by the midsection and hugged it close before it could run out into a clearing.

She was right there – She was so close – tied to a pole, presumably by her wrists, with her back to the wood. He saw her father, and her mother's back, both parents in the same situation as their daughter. It was suspiciously quiet. No guards. Were they this confident the prisoners wouldn't slip out?

His logical side told him to wait and investigate. His emotional heart screamed at him to run right in. Her shoulders kept moving erratically. It wasn't until he saw her actually get lose and flop to the side that he noticed her poor physical state. She heaved herself up with shaky hands, tried to crawl to her parents with a knife in her fist, and he saw her red palm, her pale cheeks, her damp hair sticking to her head, the shredding done to the back of her clothes, then to her actual back.

Logic was throwing aside. He dropped the rabbit and ran out, his heart pulling harder the longer she dragged herself across the dirt floor on her stomach.

"Och–!" he swallowed his voice. Her father had noticed him but… he was looking at something behind him and shouting urgently. Time slowed down. Within a second, Izuku turned to look behind him mid-run. His mind only recognized the visual danger of a back item flying his way.

Dropping to the ground on his belly and rolling to the side, the stone-ended hammer flew right past and truck the dirt with heavy force.

"You're a slippery one," someone laughed from behind.

The muscular man stomped out confidently, working his shoulder. "Took you long enough. I hate waiting." His left eye was milky white and a nasty scar ran down the left side of his head, reaching the corner of his lip.

Izuku scrambled off the ground, by the time he stood, the bulky man came charging with his head bowed, shouldering the younger male to the side and quickly grabbing him by the arm and tossing him. Izuku's much smaller body rolled on the floor a few times before he clumsily got up in a hurry, his heart pounding.

The man was huge, and fast.

This was the bear fight all over again.

The man grabbed his hammer and swung it around playfully. "Do me a favor, brat. Hold still."

He saw movement from the corner of his eye. Ochaco was struggling to get up. Her parents tied up. The muscular man was either not aware she had a knife in hand, or simply didn't care.

"I'll get to her later," the man, who he named Muscular in his head, said with a smirk on his face. "She won't be going anywhere. I'll get to her later. Let me finish with you, first!" He swung his hammer, laughing like a mania with every missed hit. He was having fun, not making this a 'quick kill'. "Show me your blood!" The hammer swooshed.

Izuku kept moving back, his eyes fixated on the heavy weapon. He forgot how fast the actual body swinging it was and he got a punch to the stomach for his mistake. He staggered back, hugging his stomach, coughing, then dropped to his knees. That man held that weapon one-handed.

Wincing in pain, he took a peek at the hostages quickly. Even with a bleeding back, she managed to crawl over to her parents and work on their bindings with the knife in hand. He didn't know how she was coordinating with such injuries. Thoughts of how she received them flooded his vision. Someone had done that. Someone had cruelly struck her repeatedly without remorse. That usual smile he remembered seeing around flowery greens was a pained grimace with unhealthy paleness.

"Not gonna run?" Muscular sounded pleased.

Ignoring his stomach spasms, Izuku forced his body to stand.

Muscular laughed when Izuku took a shaky fighting stance. "Even better!"

Izuku held a forced smile. Less confident, more determined.

…

This Bakugo boy had knocked a person unconscious, sprained two men's wrists, almost choked a man to death and caused a number of nosebleeds already.

"Ah boyff's a gevil!" The man of unknown number retreated, his hand cupping his chin to catch blood (and possibly loose teeth) running down his mouth. He limped back into the loud crowd.

The boy was enjoying every bit of it. "Who's next in line? Come on!" He punched the air enthusiastically, a menacing grin on his face. "Come at me!" His bare chest and neck glistened with sweat. The side of his face dusted yellow from hitting the dirt ground with his legs squeezing a man's neck.

A new opponent stepped out of the group of shouting people. He made sure to show the knife in his hand; an attempt at intimidation. The boy wasn't fazed at all. With a missed swing of the blade, the boy ducked, stepped closer until he was under the taller man's chin, and struck the boney part of his palm up, slamming the man's nose hard. That was another man with a bloody nose and teary eyes.

The more the boy won, the more the wins fed his confidence.

"Hell yeah!"

"Get him, Bakugo!"

"You got this, man!"

While his team cheered him on, the skinny chief looked worried over. His gaze wasn't fixated on the fights, but occasionally looking around, looking for someone, then sighing and deciding to reluctantly wait.

All For One sat on the ground with his legs crossed. He hadn't said a word through it all and let the people have their fun.

…

Izuku was not having a good time. The weapon was more of a distraction and he spent more time eyeing it than paying attention to the man wielding it. All his straining felt like it was for nothing when the success of dodging a swing from the hammer was met with a vicious punch to the arm his instinctively held up to protect his face. His feet dug into the ground, engraving the dirt. The force sent him skidding back.

Not yet. Calm down. Don't panic. It'll be fine. Just hold on a bit longer.

Muscular grabbed his throbbing arm and, instead of using the rocky part of the hammer, he twirled it around one-handed and struck him just below the chest with the end of the wooden handle.

"Gah–!" Air was forced out of his lungs. A string of bail slapped the corner of his lip. His vision went blurry. He received a blow to the stomach and chest when Muscular kneed him and released his arm, sending him flying back and rolling on the ground a few times. The man laughed, enjoying himself. He wasn't intending on killing him instantly. He wanted this to be as fun as possible for himself, like slowly squeezing the air out of a newly hatched chick before the python could swallow it whole.

It's okay. Just a little longer. Just so they're safe. Save them time so they could run.

Struggling to get off the floor, he heard a dry-throated scream, followed by Muscular's surprised one.

Izuku's eyes widened at the sight. Ochaco was standing, screaming, pushing the knife into the man's side, slicing into his firm body. She was still screaming, her face contorted in anger. Her pupils just dots. Muscular dropped his hammer and in his pain induced state dropped to one knee. Her father and mother – now loose – ran in. With surprisingly fast recovery, Muscular grabbed one parent by the arm and threw him at the other before they could do much. He grunted as Ochaco kept driving the knife in, driven mad by the will to fight and delusions of pain.

To Izuku's horror, Muscular angrily grabbed her by the hair at the top of her head, lifted her off the ground and carelessly threw her. The sight of her body slamming dirt and sliding further a few inches – leaving a red smear where she landed – snapped something inside of him.

"My boy, sticks are only weak if you see them so. Bend them and they'll break. But, sharpen the end, use it well, and you'll make a fine spear."

Muscular inspected his wound. A knife's hilt sticking out of his side. Red lines going down and soaking his pants. A silent bloody river.

Ochaco didn't get up. Her mother was there. She still didn't get up. Her mother touched her daughters face. She was still. He couldn't hear past the blood rushing through his veins.

Standing, he charged at the monster before him. The bear-like man tried to punch him into the ground. Hindered by his new injury, he was slower. He was predictable, now that Izuku experienced the first few hits. The man was strong and fast, but he didn't possess infinite stamina.

Muscular missed and punched the floor instead. The more agile boy clung to his beefy arm.

"–offa me you leech!" Muscular yanked the annoying offender off, realizing too late that bear claws had been stabbing his arm. Pulling the boy off had resulted in bloody ribbons going down his arm. The arm braces weren't for show. The action of removing the boy had caused the knife in his side to slice.

"You finally done being a punching bag, eh?" Muscular flicked the red droplets off his hand. "Your cat scratches won't do much." He readied his fists for a nice hit.

He hadn't expected for Izuku to do a handstand and kick him in the face

The man heard the smash happen inside his head and his vision forced to look elsewhere. That kick hadn't been normal. That feeling hadn't just been a boney leg.

Staggering back with a hand over the left side of his face, Muscular glared one-eyed at the boy who held a confident fighting stance. His gaze drifted down his legs. Those feathery ankle bands weren't accessories; they hid toothed braces just underneath all the feathering.

Muscular removed his palm and saw the glistening crimson. He blinked, but only felt his healthy eye do so. It was possible a tooth had popped his already blind eye.

The man wasn't happy.

"You…" He'd landed a hit, in the most bitter area connected to his memory. "You little maggot!" He charged with rage-filled vigor.

Izuku was grabbed mid-run by the arm. The man was more careful of those limbs now. But those limbs were attached to the main body, which he had a passion for destroying. Like using a hammer, he slammed the boy to the ground, then repeated the action, feeling great joy with how the boy gasped with each hit. There was a muffled break and the boy grunted and released a short, tired out screamed. He lifted him by the dislocated arm and saw how the pitiful thing grabbed and screamed, trying to relieve the painful tension being put on his abused shoulder muscles.

A hammer struck the back of his head.

Shocked and blindsided, Muscular released the boy, dropping him.

He only managed to turn his head halfway to see the girl's angry father holding his hammer – the hammer he'd dropped not too long ago.

It was enough time for Izuku to deliver a kick to the knife in Muscular's side, nailing it right in.

They heard a rip as the blade plunged in.

Muscular staggered and fell to his knees with his hand hovering over the open wound. A squirt painted a V line on the floor. He gagged. Thick bubbly saliva dribbled down his open jaw. He heaved with difficulty and toppled over, hand still hovering over the leaking hole.

…

Katsuki was getting tired. It was obvious from his panting. Toshinori was getting more worried with every passing minute. He vaguely made out Katsuki's mother shouting at him through the commotion to 'take 'em down'. How long could the kid keep taking down, though? The fight was to weaken him, tire him out. Everyone was cheering or yelling orders. He was sure All For One could pick every voice apart. The man hadn't moved. His 'eyes' would occasionally sneak by and whisper words to him.

He had a bad feeling.

…

The father helped him up by his good arm. Izuku wished he didn't have to lean on the man so much. His ears were still ringing from having his head slammed the hard ground.

"You surprised me back there, kid," the father said. "That was really reckless. He won't be getting up anytime soon. Not with that injury."

Muscular hadn't attempted to stand. Izuku wasn't paying attention anymore. His half-lidded eyes focused on Ochaco's cuts that now had speckles of sand. His fears eased once he saw her shoulder quiver and chest inflate and deflate. A sign of life. Her mother shredded parts of her own clothes to gently wrap around her girl.

His legs gave out and the father let him slide to the ground. Her breathing was raspy, but there. She had her eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. His good hand reached for her hot cheek and she opened her eyes just a bit. He wanted to cry. It was a painful sight, one that didn't need to happen. He touched his forehead to her sweaty one. She gave a gentle push before going limp again. Moving her head took too much energy.

"We have a good doctor." His voice sounded forging to him, drained, desperate. "She… she can help… She can help her." Please help – let her help her.

"You're going to need to lead the way, kid," her father said.

His rabbit had been pressing itself to the smaller, weaker creature. When Ochaco was hoisted onto her Dad's back and Izuku started limping, leaning on the mother for support, the rabbit picked up its friend with its mouth – like a cat carrying its kitten – and moved with its head reared back to keep the chipmunk from dragging the ground.

It was getting dark. He used to like when it got dark. Quiet. Pleasant. Calm. Alone but not alone. Failure and guilt were unavoidable things. He didn't like them, but a voice told him no one lived without them. Daydreams were pleasant things. Distracting, but pleasant. He could slip out of his pitiful situation and… go anywhere. Go back to nicer times, like a forest only he and she knew. It wasn't real, but it didn't have to be.

Oh, were they still walking?

People. Buzzing people. Lots of people. They parted when they walked – he limped – closer. Their noises died down, trickling into whispers. The blurry form of a stunned Katsuki was ignored. Everyone had gone quiet. All eyes were on them.

Whispers of possible scenarios fluttered about. Confused and concerned strangers backed away.

His chief and comrades hurried to hold him up. A few circled the father and unconscious Ochaco.

"My boy–" The worried look on Toshinori worsened his guilt.

"She needs a doctor," he managed. His throbbing shoulder was not the same as Ochaco's back, he reminded himself.

His tall friend, Tenya, had walked behind her to inspect the damage. His face pinched with concern and anger. "She needs urgent medical help as soon as possible, sir. How could anyone…?" The last part was whispered more to himself. The wrappings around her had cloudy red shapes. Engraved skin showed from gapes the binding filed to cover.

Toshinori directed his attention to the girl's parents. "You're welcome with us." He kept his voice low. "Allow us to lend a hand. Our doctor won't turn anyone down."

The parents accepted this generosity.

"Please." The mother said, her voice shaking. "Save my baby…"

Toshinori stepped forward. A few comrades circled the fallen heroes, beckoning them to walk deeper into the group that would protect them.

"I can't say it was nice to see you again," Toshinori said to the chief. "I'd rather see to more important things than waste time here."

The chief tilted his head. "Leaving already?" as if on cue, villagers blocked their path. "We were just warming up."

Izuku didn't want to deal with this. He just wanted to get her home. Her new home, where she could rest and sleep and, once strong enough, have a good meal. Why did people need to fight over nothing? Why did innocent people, loved ones, get caught in the crossfire?

The crowd was split between those who wanted to let these strangers go and those who followed orders. Human life or conformity. Mercy or one's own comfort.

"Can we let them go, sir?" one Eye asked carefully, expecting a backlash.

The chief didn't turn to face her. "Go?"

"Yes, sir." The Eye was blind.

Another Eye intervened. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Just let them go. Nothing wrong with it," the blind one defended.

"They'll come back. With more people. Do you want to die?"

The chief drummed his fingers on the cane, amused.

The blind one looked helplessly at the result resting on Mr. Uraraka's back. She slowly cowered to Toshinori's group. "I'd rather die than do more wrong."

A few more people sided with the strangers. The crowd started getting restless. Finally, an uproar when people began grabbing at others to keep them on their side, keep them from becoming traitors, drag them back to the right place – the right side. It became violent, with hair grabbing and pushing and hateful arguments.

"Okay, okay – let's just – let's all just calm down!" Eijiro tried in vain to calm the storm.

"Please, remain calm! Remain–" Tenya got knocked by a person being thrown.

The crowd enveloped Toshinori's in a mess of confusion and disagreements, separating individuals that stood just outside the protective circle. A fearful scream cut through the air. Weapons were being involved. The orange glow from a nearby tent radiated heat. Someone must've dropped torch or had gotten too close to the home. A horse screeched by the sight of the fire. Chaos grew, fueled by simple opinions that collided. Someone tried to spear Eijiro. Another grabbed Mina and their grip slipped.

With everything going on, Toshinori hadn't noticed All For One stand. He blocked the swing of the cane with his own cane just in time. The force forced him back. His shoulders strained. Their sticks formed an X, the symbol of wrongness – of everything not so right.

Skinny and weak was no match for big and strong. Toshinori was pushed back further. He sunk – his knees hit the ground.

"Is this the all mighty One For All?" The bigger chief mocked. "Stand up." He withdrew his cane and took a swipe at the downed man. Toshinori blocked it pathetically.

"Stand up." All For One repeated the motion, from the other side, this time.

Toshinori's defense got weaker.

The fire grew in the background. Cracking. Angry.

"I said. Stand up." Another clap of the cane.

That hit slapped Toshinori's weak body to the side.

The sky got darker and the flames got brighter. The bigger chief raised his cane for another strike–

A bright eagle slapped him in the face, distorting his attention. The bird screeched and came back for another flap of wings to the face. It was only a few seconds, but Toshinori had enough time to jab the bigger chief in the exposed throat with the end of his cane. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough time to get up, hold the cane tightly and stab the end into one of the skull's eye-sockets. Knowing the chief probably had no eyes from the last encounter, the wet sound had stabbed into an already damaged hole. The chief grunted and bowed with a hand covering the eye socket. Now it was his turn to drop to his knees.

Elsewhere, people scattered by the sight of a mustang rearing on its hind legs. It smashed its hooves down, scaring the crowd and breaking up the fight. The black horse was almost entirely black, minus the glowing red markings around the joints. Its rider grabbed onto its mane to keep from falling. Momo was still not used to treating her Whisper like an actual horse.

A cat of white and red jumped and hit someone's spear midair, scratching the holder's hand in the act. It landed on four legs and looked back with calm heterochromic eyes.

"Stop that," a boy of similar hair color ordered almost nonchalantly.

The two adults looked disturbed by his interference and the odd look of the animal. The margay wasn't fazed by the angry yelling. Instead, it looked on as the horse approached from behind the two fighters and halted just before it could bump into them. The size of the beast sent the two scrambling to get out of the way. The cat simply weaved between the horse's legs, purring.

A coyote seized a person's spear with its teeth, unwilling to let go, growling and glaring menacingly with its piercing red eyes. The person was eventually forced to release due to a punch in the cheek by the coyote's human. Katsuki's knuckles were red from overuse. The group in front of him seemed ready to come at this lunatic all in one go. A hiss behind them drew their attention. A red caiman's toothy jaws widened, as if smiling.

The group scattered. One person looked too afraid to move, his knees shaking at the sight of the creature that seemed to have unusual coloring and light reflecting off its scales. He managed to turn, only to be met with a young man with sharp teeth as well. The man screamed and finally managed to get his legs to work.

"What?" Eijiro asked Katsuki honestly, oblivious to the running man's terror. "What did I say?"

"Your friendly ass scared him more than your lizard, idiot."

"I just said hey!" Eijiro defended himself, slightly offended. His giant lizard crawled near his feet. He crouched to rub the caiman under the chin. "Who's a good boy? You are! Yes, you are." The caiman slapped its tail like a happy dog. Katsuki cringed. His Whisper's scrunched up face made it seem as though it was disgusted by the sight. The boy had a caiman for a Whisper and he treated it like this?

A herd of villagers scattered at the sight of a big spotted cat of white and blue strolling about. Its long, thin legs spoke of its potential speed. "Apologies for the disturbance! Please make way!" Tenya ordered, spreading his arms out, pleading for extra space. "I assure you no harm will come to any of you! Please allow for generous distance. I ask of you to please step back!"

The fire was getting bigger, enveloping the tents nearby. What had started out as a small flame from a torch grew into a massive monster eating away everything it touched. If it were possible to cry blood, the chief was already doing so in one blind eye. Crimson smudged the outside of the skull's eye socket. All For One didn't move.

"Sir! They're taking people with them!" An Eye called worriedly.

His enemy was retreating, taking along a good number of his people with him. Those traitors. Those weaklings. "Leave them." It hadn't gone as planned. He was still alive. He'd get him. He'd get them, with time. He wasn't about to waste energy when it was clear he was at a disadvantage.

He understood, though, the boy wasn't ready yet.

And Toshinori was in bad shape. Worse in one more year, perhaps. "Leave them."

…

Toshinori's old wound clenched painfully. He hadn't realized when the bloody drool started dribbling down his jaw. The strain was enough to cloud his brain. Fire and smoke and people yelling. Just… just get his people home. Home for now. He had extra people coming as well; those who did not agree with their chief and hoped for a new one.

"We're sorry for all the trouble," Ochaco's father said tiredly, still carrying his unmoving daughter. Everyone seemed drained.

"Not the first time we wrangled people out of difficult situations," the sickly chief said, remembering the boy with the scar on the side of his face, and the one with red hair who just happen to have a male as his One and Only in a community that did not react well to that.

The number of Whispers walking along was more than enough to light the dark. The fire was behind was slowly fading. However, the chaos wasn't over just yet.

Over at the village, just around the parameters, a pink lion tamarin jumped with a flame burning at the top of a hay bouquet. Mei just finished dusting the floor with a purple powder contained in the last egg she carried all the way here. She didn't listen to Tenya ordering her to please stop this dangerous act this instant! His wild hand gestures were all ignored.

"Let a rip!" She backed away and watched with excitement when the tamarin lit the powder of fire and smoke shot through the air in an explosive manner.

…

"Ummm… should that be happening?" Eijiro pointed back at the village that seemed to have started smoking purple. A circle of colorful smoke went all around the area, trapping the enemy in a cloudy maze.

Tenya, followed by a trotting cheetah, ran back to the group. "Apologize for the wait! This mad woman refused to listen to reason!" He

Sid partner took her time arriving with the tamarin on her shoulder. She kept turning back to witness the spectacle from afar. "Yes! Burn, baby, burn!"

"Did you just poison everyone?" Eijiro asked worriedly, clutching his head at the thought of a friend mass murdering a whole village.

"Nahhh," she waved him off. "Just smoke. Harmless!" Those people didn't know that. Mass panic was likely.

…

She heard water trickle. A simple sound, like a thin river. Was she near one? She wouldn't know. She couldn't see. It felt like there was a bed underneath her. The texture was different from her bed. This felt like a blanket resting on a cloud. This wasn't hers, but she didn't mind it at all. Half of her face was pressed to it. She was on her stomach, judging by the breeze, with no upper clothes. Something cold and wet dabbed at her hot back. Oh, she had her eyes closed. It took too much energy to pray them open. She saw him resting on his good side with his arm bound with bindings to his side. He looked exhausted, but managed to lift his head upon seeing her blink at him. It got dark once more. She wasn't sure why.

Her body felt different. Unusual. Foreign to her. She heard more people, felt hands. Heat accumulated on her back. It was centered this time. A sizzle, and the heat turned into biting lava. An unexpected scream tore through her. She'd gone from not being able to move, to lifting her whole head in response to the assault to her wounds. She couldn't remember how or why there was a stick between her clenched teeth. Hands grabbed her harder, holding her down. He touched her head with his good hand and pressed his mouth to her hair, mumbling words she failed to understand.

The world vanished again.

Waking up shivering and covered in sweat; maybe sleeping would've been better…

Her mother dabbed her head and cheek with a wet clothe. It felt cool against her heated skin.

"She's up," her mom told someone. The gentle touch of her mother's fingers combing through her hair was bliss.

Someone cupped her chin and guided a shallow bowl to her lips. The remainder of her thirst told her to take whatever was given. She gagged on the bitterness and sandy texture of particles that haven't fully dissolved.

"Down it all, dearie," a small old woman told her.

The dusty stuff stuck to the back of her throat and her muscles clamped. It was impossible not to gag.

She got another dose of nasty water again after a short nap. It took her too many short sleep sessions to understand where the rustling sound came from every time she was forced to sit up slightly. New bindings pressed a greenish salve and leaves tightly to her abnormally raised skin. Her shoulder would quiver without control.

People took turns. It was always someone else when she woke up. Her Mom, or her Dad, or the short doctor, or him.

He tried nudging her cheek, she recalled. He offered a sad, yet hopeful smile. She wasn't sure if he was trying to keep her calm, or calm himself. There was no sense of time. It was just her and her body. A cage she could not escape. Light seeped in occasionally, but she never got to step outside.

Was it possible to leave? To be free once more?

What was freedom? Was there such a thing? Or was it merely an idealistic heaven to look forward to? A cute word everyone knew, but no one had. Was death the only freedom, perhaps? To not feel happiness, to not feel pain. To not be alive, to not constantly fear death. To be alone but not be lonely. To not be told what to do or not to do – to not do anything at all. To not disappoint nor please.

To not anything.

Hands were ghostly, words were emotional voices. The touch of loved ones was to remember forever.

…

Tents were taken down and folded. The last bits of food were stored in baskets for travel. Mules got strapped up and ready to pull carts. Everyone, young and old, helped pack for the migration. Leaf maps drown with bark and plant dyes illustrated their destination.

Toshinori cracked his aching back, grunting. "I'm sorry I'm making you do this."

Mr. Uraraka waved him off and hoisted a filled dilly bag. "It's no problem! Can't thank ya enough for what you did for us." He slapped the chief's shoulder playfully. The hit jostled the chief. He didn't seem to mind. "Not familiar with this whole traveling business. Might be a good thing to get used to."

The chief chuckled. "I'll admit, we never traveled with so many people. Didn't think we'd grow in numbers that fast." They had to share hats and tents and food to accommodate newcomers. The sudden growth in numbers after coming back from the other side of the stream was unexpected. It took a few weeks to get most used to how things worked around here.

Mr. Uraraka never thought he'd be able to joke around with his chief. There were fewer rules and more activities here. The chief wasn't hidden away like a sacred deity, but would walk around like most people and interact with the public as if his high rank was nonexistent.

"Does everyone have blankets for the night?" Inko continued to mother hen every family she passed by. She made sure to visit the newcomers and inform them of how the journey would go, handing them animal horn flasks of water. "We'll make a few stops on the way. Has anyone seen Izuku?"

Catching her question, Eijiro momentary stopped adding things onto the back of a cart. "Saw him packing the doc's things!"

Toshinori leaned on his cane. "I'll go fetch him."

Mr. Uaraka laughed. "I'll come with ya. Feel like Doctor might need a few extra hands." It was still weird to see the heir serve than be served. The boy was never one to deny someone in need of assistance.

"How many times – don't mix those in the same bag, boy!"

"Ahh – sorry! They looked the same…"

"Well, they're not!"

"I'm sorry!"

This kid was next in line to be chief. He would've laughed up a storm if he hadn't known the boy.

Toshinori sighed and rubbed his sore chest.

"You thinking of retiring?" Mr. Uraraka nudged him with his elbow. "If you're worried, I can tell you that boy is more than ready."

The man smiled weakly. "I'll think about it. Haven't been in good shape these years."

He also would've second-guessed the tiny doctor with how she slapped the boy with her cane. He'd seen her handy work, though. She was a doctor through and through. Yes, he'd received a few whacks to the head, but it was worth seeing his daughter laughing there.

The two-piece, gray and white animal skin clothing was still brand new on her, as well as the white and black feather necklace that mimicked the one on her One and Only. A few painted feathers stood out. Her gifted pearl necklace was visible on her chest. No need to tuck it beneath her clothes anymore. Her tattoo had an added eagle while Izuku had her tattoo incorporated into his eagle.

She laughed again when the Doctor who saved her smacked the boy on the back of his thigh. He yelped and walked faster to hang the bag on the mule. She helped him tie the ropes up. He wasn't sure how she managed to fit in faster than most. Almost every person here had a scar or more. She already had a number on her back – way more than what her boy had on his chest and arms. Scars of survival, the people here called them.

Ochaco helped hang the other bag with no hint of fear of being told off. She noticed him and waved happily.

He waved back. "Tell the boy his mother wants him!"

Things were different. They no longer had to sneak for her to have bits of joy. She grabbed Izuku by the hand and dragged him with her excitedly.

Things were different here, in a nice way.

His daughter was happy.

He was grateful for that.

---

Notes:
-This was supposed to be around 5K words. It turned into this. Couldn't cut it into chapters. Was afraid it doesn't disturb the flow.
-Wanted to test out what I can do with the environment and themes that went against each other. (Nature Vs. civilization, Human Vs. Animal, Freedom Vs. Confinement, Change Vs. Tradition, Speech. Vs Nonverbal Communication and so on).
-It was difficult to use these characters who have beliefs tied to the modern world and write them into this sort of setting. I'm not sure how I did there.