It was not a battlefield, or a home that Izuku had found himself in that very next night. It was a quiet pond.
It looked like a beautiful place to rest. Clear water, lush green grass and sunny weather. Big fish were visible from the surface, diving and rising again as a man sat next to the water, throwing feed in.
Said man's face split with a grin carved in the image of a mad god. He was scarred, and proudly displayed it. They were faded, though. Not nearly as numerous or aggressively red as Momo's were, the ones on his arms spoke of years of fighting experience, the cross on his chest spoke of a spirit that did not turn his back to their opponent.
The one on his face spoke of a disregard for his own safety.
Always protect your head and neck, Nezuko had told him.
Even if your arm is sliced off or your heart is carved out.
It sounded strange to him, would the other things not cause him to bleed out anyway? She shook her head, but said nothing more.
Izuku took a deep breath, walking up to the pond with small steps. The man's feeding hand stopped for a moment before he stared up at him. Despite the rough scars, the white-haired man, who looked about the same age as Nezuko's usual mid-twenties appearance, was not glaring.
In fact, he looked almost too kind.
Peaceful.
It reminded him of Yoriichi, and it made him shiver. It stood in stark contrast to the images he had seen of the man's fury that Nezuko was keeping.
Izuku sat down next to him, staring at the pond.
"What brings you to the transparent world again, Kagura Ubuyashiki?" Sanemi Shinazugawa said. His voice was louder than Izuku would have expected, but the way he spoke was soft enough not to scare the fish.
"I was hoping you could tell me," Izuku said, propping up one arm on his knee and leaning against his hand. "I think it's a riddle of sorts, Nezuko-sensei tells me it's you all trying to tell me something. But I'm not so sure anymore after meeting Shinobu Kocho."
"You think we're just bored and want someone to talk to," Sanemi assumed. Izuku shrugged, not able to say yes or no either way. "It's not a wrong assumption to make, same as thinking we're here to teach you lessons exclusively."
"But just because it's not wrong doesn't mean it's right," Izuku said, shrugging again. "At this point I'm almost looking forward to this. It's an honor to meet you, Sanemi Shinazugawa-san."
"Sanemi's fine," Sanemi said, nodding and handing Izuku a bowl of fish feed. Izuku took it, nodding at the man. "Death's vastness holds no peace, Kagura. Even now, we see what has become of those we've left behind, and we suffer their pains."
"You're a lot less scary than I thought you'd be," Izuku said. Sanemi laughed. The rough sound sent ripples over the pond before Izuku was able to spoon some of the feed into it.
"I'm dead," Sanemi said. It sounded so clinical, and even though Izuku knew from the get go, the words made him flinch slightly. "What anger would I have left to feel? Here, there is a different kind of peace. I'm with my family, I'm with my mother and my brother."
Izuku looked around. The man flicked him on the forehead, causing him to reach up to it and frown.
"Not here here, you idiot," Sanemi said. Izuku's frown deepened. "I heard you want a lesson, right? You mind if I bullshit you into one or do you want an actual one, because if it's the latter I gotta see about growing as a person first."
"No, I'm good," Izuku said, lowering his hand from his forehead and taking a spoonful of feed and letting it slip over the edge into the pond.
"Are you sure?" Sanemi said. "I have this whole thing about how this place is a reflection of what you want in life, a quiet place to get freaky with your girlfriend."
"I'm sure," Izuku ground out. "I take it back, you're exactly how I imagined you to be from the pictures."
Kind of like Tenko, came the thought. Izuku frowned. He remembered, the man had a younger brother who became a demon slayer as well, did he not? Nezuko was not someone who had many stories to share about them, but…
"Did you get along well?" Izuku asked. Sanemi tilted his head slightly. "You and your brother, I mean. He was a member of the corps, if I recall correctly."
"He was," Sanemi said, nodding. "Worst demon hunter I've ever met, in fact. Kept telling him to quit, useless fucker."
"That's… harsh," Izuku said, for the lack of a better word. "You didn't get along, then."
"Not at first, we had some issues to solve between us," Sanemi said. "But by the end of the war against Muzan, he was there and said that he loved me, and something in me felt fixed."
"Must be nice," Izuku murmured. "Having a brother who relies on you."
"Not the worst, but it's not always the best either. You become conscious about what you do, how you portray yourself, it's not really like you're that much of a role model for the good parts of them, you're just gonna reinforce the shit parts."
Izuku nodded.
"Also, you do have a brother, don't you?" Sanemi asked suddenly. Izuku's eyebrows crinkled in thought. "That kid who never touches anything with all five fingers."
Izuku nodded slowly. "I'm not sure he really counts, my mom fostered him for a while and he's obviously thankful, but sometimes he gets that look in his eyes."
"You know the look?"
"Somewhat," Izuku said, frowning. "Like something's missing and he's seeing it in the corner of his vision, yet whenever he looks closer he finds it gone again. It's frustrating to watch."
"We're bound to the hearts and souls of those we've left behind," Sanemi said. He poured the rest of the feed in his bowl over into the water without concern. It clouded the surface for a moment before the fish swam up at the same time and devoured everything in their path. "I can't see into his heart, he's not of my blood. But looking at it from your perspective, he's a hard person to get along with that you still somehow manage to. If that's not brotherhood, I don't know what is."
"You're my ancestor?" Izuku asked, blinking. Sanemi laughed, shaking his head.
"You're the descendant of Nezuko's sword, and in a way she was our little sister, of each of us," Sanemi said. "I think we can bend a few rules. There's a few bonds that are tighter than the blood you do or do not share."
"Is it really that easy?" Izuku asked. Sanemi shrugged.
"Why does it have to be complicated? You single kids are all the same, you think there's some big secret about this that all the families with multiple kids are hiding. Sometimes what you see is just what you get, right? You got a man who'd call you his brother, who'd bleed and fight for you, and if not for you then for the one you both call mother. What's brotherhood if not an alignment of all these things?"
"You're a lot more well spoken than I'd have expected," Izuku said, unashamed. "Nezuko told me you were kind of a miserable person, once upon a time."
"Dead people have time to think about what they'd like to say, you miscreant," Sanemi said, standing up and pushing his hand onto Izuku's head. Instead of rubbing it affectionately, he pressed down, using Izuku as a tool to stand up. Izuku glared up at him, standing up as well, the fish feed knocked over on the ground.
"You're all liars," Izuku said, grinning. "The ones who came before, even when you say you have no lessons, I keep leaving here feeling better about something."
"I had a lesson you shit, and you spat in my face," Sanemi said, grinning back fiercely. "Have a vacation and find yourself a quiet place with that girlfriend of yours, a storm is brewing."
"Tell me something I don't know," Izuku said. The world began to fade, but Sanemi had to have the last word.
"Breathing makes sex last forever!"
Izuku woke up with beads of sweat on his forehead and a face so red it might be comparable to a cooked lobster.
Eri swung the sword with purpose.
It whipped through the air and made a noise as it cut wind. The sword that she had now was light and small enough to use a lot. It was made by Momo, and it was her favorite thing she had ever received.
A hundred gifts from Uncle Yu, sweets and toys, did not compare to the joy she felt when she had first touched the hilt of the wooden practice sword.
She swung the sword until she was tired, and then she went to eat and nap before waking up to swing it around again. Today, though, Momo was coming back for training. Nezuko was happy to hear that. Eri was happy as well.
Izuku was busy today, he was talking with a few people, so Momo came alone.
When she heard the key inside the door, she was already on her feet, jumping out of the couch and found herself skidding to a halt in front of the older girl. Momo was dressed up from head to toe, wearing a costume like Izuku's usual one. Her face was hidden up to her nose by a scarf and she wore gloves.
Eri knew why she was wearing gloves. She wondered if she would make her some as well.
Momo bent down and gave Eri a hug. Eri hugged back. Lifting her up, Momo carried her up the stairs, and into the dojo on the second floor. Nezuko was already sitting there, staring at nothing, but giving Momo a nod in acknowledgement.
The air felt so heavy.
Momo did not use her weapon today.
Instead, she went into the corner and started to do something she had seen Nezuko do before. Beads around her arms shone and reflected soft lights around her as she began to murmur words into her fingers.
She could see the marks over them. Scars that were visible on her hands and that ran down all over her arms, which were hidden by the sleeves before and now displayed not proudly, but willingly, as she raised her hands in prayer or meditation.
Eri glanced at her own arms. Her own scars were much more faded, evidence of just how much damage had been done and healed over and over again by Overhaul's experiments. Nonetheless, Eri let go of the sword.
She walked over to Momo and sat down next to her. Momo twitched, as if noticing, but continued. The murmurs seemed to form no coherent sentences, but they were strangely calming. Eri raised her hands together, noting that Nezuko was watching them from her usual place at the wall of the dojo.
Eri closed her eyes just as Momo did. When the murmurs ended just a second later, she blinked, looking up at Momo's face, still mostly hidden by the scarf.
Momo reached out and wrapped her hard hands around Eri's. A moment later, beads reached around Eri's hands as well, and Eri smiled at her.
"Are they too heavy?" Momo asked softly. Eri shook her head.
"No," Eri said, smiling widely. After a few moments, she blinked. "What are we doing?"
"Praying," Momo said. "For a very bad woman."
"Why?" Eri asked. "Isn't she bad?"
"She is," Momo said, nodding. "But sometimes those who are bad need people's prayers the most. Izuku told me that. They will go through their lives and not see a glimpse of peace or heaven."
"Should bad people go to heaven?" Eri asked once again, her boundless curiosity spilling from her lips at a rapid pace.
"No," Momo said. "But we should still not celebrate their deaths. If no one else will pray for them, we should. Because we're better."
Eri nodded, a bit of understanding coming up on her face, her eyes shining in recognition. After a few moments more, she closed her eyes.
Momo seemed to be happy praying.
So Eri would pray too. Maybe for Overhaul to become a better person. Maybe for Uncle Yu to live a more peaceful life away from the yakuza. Eri prayed.
Izuku sat with Tenko after school. They met at his usual place, the little makeshift surgery suite. It was brightly lit, relatively comfortable, and lacked the distinct smell of sterility that a hospital would have.
Izuku was fairly certain that the last part was seriously bad.
Tenko had prepared them tea, though the cups looked so dusted over that Izuku wasn't in the mood to drink it anyway. Unconcerned, Tenko took a sip, holding the cup between index finger and thumb.
"I need advice," Izuku said. "Because of Momo."
Izuku could see Tenko's lips mouth a dirty joke, but the young man held himself back, instead nodding quietly. Izuku crossed his arms, trying to find the right angle to start. After a few moments of silence, he pursed his lips.
"Remember what you told me that day we met?" Izuku said. He did quite clearly. Tenko was a rather hard to forget person, the connection to his mother and the subsequent things he'd learned were a significant part of the past few months. Tenko nodded. "You talked to me about having a really bad day."
"In about as many words, yeah," Tenko said, nodding. "Though you've had a few like that too, lately. If we're gonna make this into a dick measuring contest, I'll tell you now that I'd still win."
Izuku tried not to smile, but couldn't help it. In spite of his criminal connections and leanings, Izuku really had troubles disliking Tenko. Even if his tongue sometimes moved faster than his brain.
Or worse, the other way around.
"She had a bad day," Izuku continued, "and she's getting counselling, her parents are supportive, I'm trying my best to be supportive, but I still worry. I wanted to ask if you had any advice as someone who… had a bad day, too."
Tenko bridged his fingers, intertwining them and staring at nothing. "Kind of an understatement, really. But that aside, you think she's fucked up?"
"No," Izuku said, perhaps a bit too fast. She wasn't that, she was hurt and mending. He kind of doubted that Tenko was either, despite the man's words. As much as he tried to hide them, Tenko's emotions were something Izuku could hear anyway. He had worked hard to get where he was now, and Izuku would never disrespect that hard work by dismissing the circumstances that had shaped him. "I think she needs time. Time she has as a student, but not as a demon slayer."
"And you worry she'd take it badly if you told her that?" Tenko asked, and once again his voice reflected the seriousness of his question. Izuku nodded slowly. He had taken Nezuko's lesson to heart. He would not disrespect Momo's decisions. "She needs to take it slow, I agree. Like I told you, different people react differently to different stressors. You crack and you fill the gaps with gold. I crack and someone else has to do it for me."
"Momo is just losing more pieces," Izuku said, not entirely unwilling to disagree with the metaphor. Tenko nodded. "You think I can be the person for her that my mother was for you?"
"No way," Tenko said, frowning. "That'd be fucking weird, I call her mama, I didn't think that'd be your fetish."
Izuku sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I just need something, some advice I can give her, some excuse to put my foot down and tell her to take it slow."
"Take a vacation," Tenko said. Izuku raised an eyebrow . "You got your licenses, right? Use that as an excuse, tell your school you'd like to use your break for an actual break. Talk about your really miserable mental state and how exhausted you are."
"The counselling is happening in school, I hope it'll do for now, I don't want to just take her away from that."
"Then, maybe," Tenko said, tapping his finger onto the table. "You're the one who should slow down and wait to see if the shrink is helpful."
It was a fair bit of advice, but that was the crux of the issue. Izuku hated doing nothing. And somehow this just kept adding to the things he wished he could change about himself. If he wasn't so sure about it, he would've thought himself a relative of Iida, because whenever his legs weren't moving the world seemed to blow past him.
"Actually, fuck it," Tenko said. He stood up, throwing off his usual hoodie. It was too warm for one anyway, though Izuku could see why he was wearing it. Marks on his arms and neck, scratched off skin until it scarred, from an angle that certainly looked self inflicted. "You're the worst person to tell to sit still, so let's look at it from another angle. You killed that demon in Akihabara, right? How many people did it kill?"
Izuku frowned. Tenkai hadn't told him, but Izuku had looked through the articles about elderly people dying in Tokyo. "Maybe three or four at a minimum, though the demon became better about its cuts later, so maybe more we didn't notice."
"I heard from some, let's call them sources, that she was a bit overeager in the fight, but they didn't see the end of it. How'd she react?"
"Horrified," Izuku summarized. "To the point she made a hundred prayer beads and started to meditate. She was the one who landed the killing blow."
"She's pretty amazing, isn't she?" Tenko asked. Izuku frowned. "A quirk like that would make her practically one of the most powerful people on the planet if she were willing to use it in a more selfish way. She's got the looks and money to find herself any guy she wants and she picked you. She kills a demon, and just like you she starts crying like a baby over the life of a murderer."
"She didn't cry," Izuku muttered, though he understood the angle Tenko was coming from. "You're just telling me I worry too much, aren't you?"
"In a way, she came to school today, right?"
Izuku nodded.
"It's bad once she stops doing that," Tenko said, standing up and walking around the table. "First she stops going to school, then she'll be too ashamed to go to dinner. Every day she'd lose a piece of herself and it'll be harder to pick it up again. Routine is important, Izuku."
"Speaking from experience?" Izuku asked before he could stop himself. Tenko shrugged, nodding. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Tenko said. "Kind of fair to share considering I know much more about you than vice versa. See it like house arrest."
Izuku's frown deepened, thinking of his mother. Tenko nodded, as if reading his mind.
"You take the routine out of someone, they start to lack purpose, or maybe because they find they lack purpose they fall out of their routine," Tenko said. "You skip a meal or two, it becomes a habit to eat just a little bit and afterwards you're tired. You wake up and have trouble getting out of bed, you end up just sleeping the whole day. You feel worse, you put on weight or lose it at a concerning rate. This isn't the usual pattern, people are different, but there's a point where things start to appear to be similar."
Izuku clenched his fist. His mother was sleeping a lot, and she was hard to talk to, even if she looked happier at being home now.
"What I'm saying is that as long as Momo's keeping up with going to school, coming over to exercise and tutoring from that teacher of yours, as long as you can reach out and she reaches back," Tenko said, knocking his knuckles against the table, "it'll be fine. Just keep reaching out, don't look at her like she's a problem to fix, you're a fucking mess as well. Give her love and support or some shit you see in Saturday morning breakfast cartoons, fucked if I know."
Izuku blinked. "I'm sorry."
"What for?"
Izuku's frown slipped off his face. "I don't know. I've upset you, and even if I didn't intend to it makes me feel like apologizing."
Tenko laughed, the sound coming out of his throat like a choke. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he shook his head. "Brother, you're a fucking riot."
"Thank you?" Izuku said, tilting his head.
"That day when you joined my righteous crusade," Tenko said. "I can't say I've not felt happier, but it was something that meant a lot to me. I know you got this thing with the ears, you can hear if someone's lying, right? So listen to it."
Izuku did.
"There's a lot of people like me, I can't stand fighting," Tenko said, touching his chest. "I used to want to be a hero. The idea of using my quirk in battle, it causes me to break out in hives. But if I have to, I'll fight."
"I wouldn't force you to fight, I'm happy enough you're helping me out to carry out my duty," Izuku said. Tenko shook his head, his hands twitching. "Tenko—"
"No," Tenko said, raising his hand in front of Izuku's face. His fingers curled into a claw, keeping the tips away from his self-proclaimed brother. "That's the problem, nobody can force me to do shit. But when I make a decision for myself, you all come in and try to claim credit for it. I don't like fighting. I don't want to fight."
"Then why are you forcing yourself to?" Izuku asked softly. Tenko's fist clenched tightly.
"Because you're my brother," Tenko said, not saying it like it's a joke for once. He raised his fist at Izuku's face. "And brothers bleed together."
This time, Izuku did not raise his fist to meet that of his brother's. Instead, he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around the young man who would call his mother his own, nodding into his shoulder.
Chapter 37, upcoming:
The Class Trip
Izuku woke up near a small home.
It was truly small, the smallest he had ever seen in his dreams, even smaller than that of the fisherman Shisui.
Nonetheless, it looked happy. A woman sat at the ground near it, watching someone perform a dance. She looked so happy watching it that Izuku found himself peeking. It was an outfit that was more than familiar to him, wielding a seven-branched blade that was so much like hers.
The man with the red hair performed a dance to the fire god, his earrings mirrored those in Izuku's own ears. The woman noticed him, her droopy purple eyes crinkling against the torchlight and her hand coming up to push a finger onto her lips, bidding him for silence.
Izuku sat and watched. He felt like he was at the end of a long road.