OMG! Can it be? Can I really be on chapter 20? AHHHHH I can't believe I've made it this far! Thank you everyone for supporting! It's all your love that has kept me motivated to keep writing. You all are the best!
Shouto shut the door to the room and walked down the dark hallway. His skin tingled. Yaoyorozu's silky hair sliding through his fingertips and the sweet smell of the strands lingered in Shouto's memory.
He reached up and pressed his hand over his mouth. That had been close.
Too close.
The sight of Yaoyorozu dressed in a man's chiton and a dark red cape had almost been too much for him to bear. It had taken all Shouto's willpower to come up with a half-baked excuse that allowed him to escape.
Yaoyorozu was just too cute.
Even out of sight, Shouto felt a craving swell in his chest, urging him to return to her side. He ignored the temptation. Shouto knew he couldn't go back to the room. Not yet. Not when he could still picture the way Yaoyorozu's dark eyes had fluttered closed as he moved closer, her head tilting back as if she wanted to be kissed…
Fuck.
Shouto stopped in the middle of the hallway. Closing his eyes, he curled his fingers into a tight fist and pressed his hand to the center of his forehead. Drawing in a steadying breath, he tried to collect himself.
After the last time he had stolen a kiss from Yaoyorozu on Aretias, Shouto had promised himself he would keep his distance. Unless Yaoyorozu showed a clear indication of being open to his advances, Shouto had sworn to not approach her. Otherwise, he was no better than his old man.
His fingers tightened until his nails dug into his palm. The problem (as usual) was Kaminari's arrow.
Although a god, Kaminari's magic wasn't subtle. His magic was like electricity — unrefined and lurid. Shouto could always tell when the magic was activated. It was as if lightning crackled through his veins, filling him with an intense urge to keep Yaoyorozu for himself.
The mad desires would crash down upon Shouto, overwhelming him in their ferocity. But at least Shouto would know when he was being controlled by the magic, but now -
Shouto didn't know.
Sometime over the last two months, the magic had changed. The curse had shifted and transformed his feelings into something subtle and a lot more real, as if they were his own. Except that was crazy.
What kind of man could tell a woman's mood with just a glance? And who would feel the overwhelming need to do whatever it took to make another person smile, even if it was against their own self-interest?
Opening his eyes, Shouto dropped his hand from the center of his forehead. Slowly uncurling his fingers, he stared down at his open palm. Small indents cut into his hand from where his nails had dug into his flesh.
Shouto wasn't so naive as to think all his feelings for Yaoyorozu were caused by Kaminari's arrow. He realized, on some level, that even without the curse, he would be attracted to Yaoyorozu. She was smart. Vibrant. Strong. But the idea that these intense feelings of wanting to love and be loved by her might be his own felt like a betrayal to everything Shouto was.
He was dispassionate. Decisive. Unyielding. A perfect soldier.
And soldiers shouldn't fall in love.
Romance and affection were the emotions for bards and philosophers to ponder and sing about, not something for a warrior. Nevertheless, Shouto couldn't get rid of a nagging voice in the back of his mind. What if these feelings were truly his?
Shouto's throat tightened, and he dropped his hand to run along Endeavor's red hilt. But the prickling feeling of unease crawling across his skin didn't fade. Shouto's fingers twitched.
He couldn't be in love, Shouto reasoned. Love was something for the weak. And he wasn't weak.
The strong live. The weak die.
Shouto took a deep breath through his nose as he collected himself. He knew agonizing over his real or imagined feelings towards Yaoyorozu was pointless. There were no "what ifs" to the situation. It was Kaminari's magic influencing his thoughts and feelings. That was all.
Shoving the rest of his thoughts and feelings of uncertainty away, Shouto straightened and considered what to do next.
For the time being, he couldn't return to the room. Shouto shifted. Sending a message to Midoriya had been a lame excuse to put space between him and Yaoyorozu, but Shouto guessed it wouldn't hurt to send a message to the Spartan prince. The only other options were to return to the market or find Fukukado.
Suddenly, the memory of Yaoyorozu's silky hair sliding between Shouto's fingers drew to the forefront of Shouto's mind.
He furrowed his eyebrows. They'd been lucky so far on their journey. The only monsters they had encountered were ones with low intelligence. But now that they were traveling over land, they could find themselves fighting humans or stronger creatures. Someone could grab Yaoyorozu's hair, or it could blind her at a critical moment in a fight.
Shouto's stomach twisted tight with anxiety at the image. His fingers tapped against Endeavor's hilt. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to use the time he had to buy Yaoyorozu a hair accessory.
He reached up and slipped his hand into his chiton, then abruptly paused as his fingers skimmed empty air.
Feeling annoyed, Shouto pressed his lips into a thin line as he withdrew his hand. He had forgotten, in his hasty retreat from the room, that he had left Yaoyorozu with all their money.
Not that they had much left; he had given most of the coins he had received from Aizawa to Tokoyami. Shouto only kept enough funds to get them back to Sparta. And he had used a good portion of that savings on Yaoyorozu's clothing and spear earlier.
Shouto dropped his hand back down to Endeavor's hilt, contemplating if he should return to the room when a flash of gold around his arm caught his attention, and his breath caught.
The bangles.
He lifted his hand and stared down at the golden bangles wrapped around his arm. Shouto was slightly ashamed to admit that he had gotten comfortable wearing the jewelry; he had forgotten he still had two left.
A voice in the back of his mind whispered that if he sold one, he'd be able to afford to buy Yaoyorozu a hair accessory. Plus, it would leave them with plenty of money for their trip back to Sparta and then after. He could buy her more clothes and good food she hadn't had the chance to enjoy in Troy.
A warm feeling of anticipation bubbled within Shouto at the thought of Yaoyorozu's surprised reaction. Subconsciously, a smile began to pull at his mouth.
It was a practical gift, Shouto tried to remind himself. It wasn't to spoil Yaoyorozu. Still, Shouto couldn't fight against the foreign sense of eagerness fluttering in his stomach as he descended the stairs to the first floor of the inn.
The innkeeper sat at a table by the door, cleaning glasses. Akin to his brother, the man was tall with a full potbelly. He didn't have much hair left, but what was there had been slicked back, and his eyes were small and sharp.
As Shouto descended the stairs, he looked up and raised a thick eyebrow. "What can I get you?"
"I'm looking for an appraiser. Preferably, one who is also capable of buying merchandise. Know anyone?"
The innkeeper grunted. Putting down the glass, he rubbed at his chin. "I might." His eyes flicked to Endeavor then back up to meet Shouto's gaze. "Depends. What are you looking to sell? The sword?"
Shouto shook his head and held up his arm with the golden bangles. "These."
The inn keeper's eyes widened slightly. Shouto almost imagined he could see gold drachma gleaming in the old man's gaze. But the innkeeper didn't move. He drummed his fingers against the table as he sat in silence.
"I know someone who can afford those," he said after a moment. "A little kooky, old man Gran Torino is, but he gives a fair price. He's back down by the harbor. If you go soon, you should still be able to catch him."
Shouto nodded and turned to head out when the innkeeper called out again. "By the way…"
Shouto paused and turned back around. The innkeeper scratched at his nose, his expression a mixture of hesitation and unease.
"I'm sure my brother didn't miss the chance to complain about his tavern being wrecked by slavers?" He began slowly in a cautious voice. "Anyways, heard the buyer of those slaves is arriving tonight. And just a heads up, you'll want to keep your head down around him."
"Who is he?"
The innkeeper shifted in his seat. "Koku Hanabata, but everyone knows him as Trumpet. Anyways," he said firmly, his expression hard, "mind your business, and you should be okay."
Shouto nodded.
"Thanks."
The sun had sunk low in the sky, bathing the city of Dicaea in rich golden hues by the time Shouto stopped in front of a dilapidated house.
A statue of Hermes sat out front, and above the door frame were three spheres suspended from a bar, designating the shop a place of barter. However, those were the only pieces of evidence that the house was even lived in. Perhaps in years past, Shouto supposed, the storefront may have been elegant, but years of neglect had worn away the paint and rotted the wood.
Shouto stood there for a moment, debating if the innkeeper had deceived him before deciding against it. Even a child would know how to scam someone better than this.
Tapping the end of Endeavor's hilt, Shouto considered his options.
Across the road, elongated shadows stretched across the paved stones, tracking the sun's movement.
Shouto frowned. He was running out of time. If he left to find another barter shop, he might miss the closing of the market, and then he wouldn't be able to surprise Yaoyorozu with a gift. It wasn't as if he knew where else to go anyways.
Sighing, Shouto pushed open the door and walked in.
The shop was small and overly cluttered with plants. A single window overlooked the mountain ranges to the west, letting light in.
In the middle of the room, a three legged table was set up with two backless stools on either side. Along the perimeter chests, various statues, and plants sat haphazardly stacked or pushed against the walls as if the owner were trying to grow a garden inside.
Behind a set of overgrown weeds, something moved. And Shouto started as he realized — what he thought was a statue —was, in fact, an old man, shriveled and shrunken with time.
The elderly man stood on top of a wooden chest, muttering to himself as he looked outside. "A hot summer, followed by an even colder winter… The gods sure are vindictive." The old man tapped his walking stick against the box. "Not good. Not good."
Shouto shifted awkwardly. He was unsure if he should speak or just wait for the owner, but before he could make up his mind, the old man by the window turned and almost jumped backwards. The box wobbled under him precariously before he caught his balance.
"Who are you?" The old man demanded. "I don't need any more statues." He tapped his stick on the box angrily. It made a wooden, hollow sound.
"Er...No, I'm not here to sell anything." Shouto's eyebrows furrowed down in confusion, and he glanced around the room attempting to find the owner, but all he saw were plants.
If this wasn't the right location, he'd have to quickly find another shop to barter his bangles. He didn't want to waste his time talking to the old man. He needed to speak to the owner. "Sorry. I must have come to the wrong place. I was looking for Gran Torino."
The old man's eyes narrowed. His wrinkles on his forehead crinkled further. "Gran Torino...And what do you need with him?"
Shouto sighed; he slid a bangle off his arm and held it up. "I heard he offers a fair bargain."
The old man's eyes lit up. "Oh!" He smiled and jumped off his perch. Hobbling closer, faster than someone his age should ever be able to, he grasped Shouto's arm and pulled him towards the stools. His sandals made an odd clipping sound underneath his long chiton that dragged against the floor.
"Why didn't you say so!" He said. He forced Shouto down on one of the stools and grabbed the golden bangle from him. "Customers are always welcome. I'm Gran Torino. But, I haven't seen you around here before - " he paused, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned Shouto, as if assessing him.
Shouto adjusted his chiton. "I'm, uh, just passing through."
"No! I meant your name," the old man scolded. "Don't you know how to properly introduce yourself?"
"Oh." Shouto blinked, taken aback by the old man's forceful attitude. "I'm Shouto Todoroki."
Gran Torino froze and looked Shouto over slowly. The hair on Shouto's arm stood on end. "Ares son?"
Shouto's fingers twitched. "Yeah. How'd you know?"
"I'm not like these uneducated hooligans," Gran Torino said, waving his walking stick around as if to amorphously indicate everyone else. "I'd be a fool not to know the famous Shouto Todoroki, son of Ares and hero of Troy."
Something within Shouto felt on edge. Like this old man was more than a simple barter. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The old man grinned, his wrinkles deepended. "Ahh. You have good senses." His dark eyes glittered, and he straightened proudly. "I used to be a warrior when I was younger. Was one of the fastest swordsmen and runners alive. Helped out even on a few quests for All Might."
Shouto hummed in the back of his throat, only half believing the old man.
Gran Torino continued, not noticing. "That was before these old knees gave out." He reached down and rubbed at his kneecaps through his long chiton. "Anyways, I'm retired now and set up this small shop here in Dicaea. Keeps me busy enough."
Gran Torino turned and hobbled back towards the window. His sandals made a strange clacking sound underneath his chiton that sounded similar to hooves. Shouto glanced at Gran Torino's head, half expecting to find horns but finding none.
The old shopkeeper paused in front of the window and held up the bangle to reflect the sunlight, examining the detailing etched in the sides.
"It's good quality," he said after a moment, glancing back at Shouto. "I'll buy it."
Shouto nodded, and Gran Torino moved over to a locked chest. Squatting down, he pulled a key from inside his chiton and opened the chest, revealing gold and jewelry of different qualities.
"I have one more request," Shouto said, watching Gran Torino riffle through the trunk, collecting coins into a leather pouch.
Gran Torino hummed in acknowledgment.
"I'm looking to send a message to someone in Sparta. Is there a fast, reliable service that can do that?"
"I can help you with that."
"What?"
Gran Torino looked up. He scowled as if in indignation. "You don't think I'm up to the task? I may not be able to fight like I used to, young'en, but I'm a son of nymph, and my speed is still there. Besides, I know someone in Sparta as well that I haven't seen in a while." Gran Torino stood up, and his knees cracked.
"I see," Shouto said uncertainly as Gran Torino tied the pouch and gave it to him.
"So, what is the message?" Gran Torino asked, moving towards the back of the store. Using his walking stick, he pushed some delicate looking vases out of the way to reveal a small fireplace.
Shouto pocketed the coin purse. It was heavy and clinked as he slipped the pouch into his chiton. "It's to Prince Midoriya," Shouto said, slowly following the old merchant across the room.
Gran Torino paused and swiveled back to look at Shouto. "Deku!"
"You know him?" Shouto's eyebrows furrowed with surprise at hearing Bakugo's nickname for the first prince come out of the old man's mouth.
"Of course I know the prince of Sparta! He trained under me a few years back."
Shouto blinked. "What?"
He'd never heard about that.
"Yes, yes. That was before the war," Gran Torino said distractedly, resuming his task of clearing the fireplace. He pulled a small pouch out of his chiton and sprinkled something from it onto the wood, and a fire caught. "So, are you ready to deliver your message?"
Shouto shifted. He was feeling more and more confused. Who was this old man?
Even for a regular citizen, most Spartans never met either of the princes. Shouto's eyes narrowed on the old man's back, assessing him.
Gran Torino was small, about the size of a satyr, with a scrawny white beard that matched his gray speckled hair. Shouto would never consider him intimidating, but the way he moved was suspicious. Could he really have gone on quests?
"Ready?" Gran Torino repeated, snapping Shouto out of his thoughts.
"What?"
Flames crackled in the fireplace.
The old man grinned mischievously. "You didn't think I'd really run all the way to Sparta, did you?" He turned back, looked into the flames, and chuckled. "Let me tell you a little-known secret. If you don't want to rely on Hermes or Iris to deliver your messages, you can use ash from Hestia's hearth. It doesn't last long, but the ash gives you enough time for a short conversation. You'll have until the fire dies out."
Shouto's mouth opened, but he couldn't think of what to say. His throat was dry, but he managed to nod. He hadn't expected to speak to Izuku Midoriya so soon. It had been ten years since they last spoke, not since Midoriya had asked Shouto to stay in Sparta.
The flames shimmered then Shouto caught the sight of messy green hair over Gran Torino's head.
"Midoriya!"
"Gran Torino?! Is that you? What's wrong?" A high voice that Shouto hadn't heard in ten years called out in alarm from the fireplace.
"Stop your worrying, boy. I'm fine. But I have someone who wants to talk to you."
Gran Torino stepped aside, and then Shouto stared at a man with messy green hair and freckled cheeks.
Shouto swallowed thickly.
Izuku Midoriya — the first Prince of Sparta.
He and Katsuki Bakugou ruled over the nation-state as the two commanding princes. And he had been Shouto's closest friend.
But that had been a long time ago.
Midoriya opened and closed his mouth a few times as he stared, eyes wide, at Shouto through the flames. Then he jerked as if snapping himself out of shock and his gaze grew glassy. "Todoroki! Is that really you? Oh my Zeus Almighty! Hado told me that you were safe — and it's not like I didn't believe her — but it's so good to see you. But your eye and that scar!" His voice shook.
Shouto reached up and touched the discolored skin over his left eye. "It's fine. It's mostly healed now. I can still see through it."
"That's good…" Midoriya said slowly. Then his expression flickered, and his eyes grew shiny, as they did in Shouto's memory whenever he was about to start a bombardment of questions. "So how'd you get to Dicaea? Wait, back up!" Midoriya spoke quickly, his voice rising in pitch with each word. He didn't wait for Shouto to respond before continuing. "What happened on Aretias? I can't believe you got to live with Aizawa! You know he used to be part of Sparta's special forces."
Shouto didn't know that, but it suddenly explained how he'd been able to afford to build a mansion in the middle of the ocean.
"Hado said that you -"
"Midoriya!" Gran Torino snapped, interrupting the prince. He hit his walking stick against the floor, agitated. "My fire is on a time limit. You can ask him all this when he gets back."
"Oh! Yeah, sorry," Midoriya said quickly. His cheeks turned red as he looked back at Shouto guiltily. Shouto was glad to see that some things hadn't changed.
Midoriya took a deep breath, collecting himself, and then he gave Shouto a warm smile. "It's good to see you," he said, his voice had returned to normal.
The knot in Shouto's stomach eased. His mouth curved up into a small smile. "Same."
He had so much to tell the prince but didn't know where to start. His fingers twitched. Shouto glanced away and cleared his throat as he grasped for the first thing that came to mind. "So, how's my sister? Is Fuyumi doing well?"
Midoriya's smile faltered. "She actually isn't here anymore."
"What?" Shouto's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Yeah," Midoriya said hesitantly, scratching his head. "She actually went back to stay with your mother some time ago."
"Oh, I see." Shouto felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped to see Fuyumi. She was like a second mother to him. He had spent most of his childhood under her care when Enji had separated him from his mother.
"But I heard you're bringing someone back with you?" Midoriya asked carefully, studying Shouto through the fire.
Shouto felt his cheeks warm. He reached up and adjusted the collar of his chiton, subtly activating his magic to cool his spiking temperature as he smoothed out his expression before answering. "Yeah. Her name is Momo Yaoyorozu. She'll be living with me."
Midoirya nodded. "I suspect you'll need someone to help get your place ready then? I can do that for you if you'd like?"
"Thanks," Shouto said, grateful.
"Of course." Midoriya glanced away and tapped at his lips in thought, musing. "So if you are in Dicaea already, I'd suspect it would take you two months by land to get back to Sparta? Unless you are going by sea?" He asked, glancing back at Shouto.
Shouto shook his head. "No. We'll be traveling over the Rhodopes and then down through the mainland."
"Okay. Just be careful; the gods have been upset over what happened in Troy. They've been interfering with a lot of travel and driving even the usually docile monsters into a frenzy."
"I see. Thanks. I'll be careful."
"Oh yeah!" Midoriya snapped his fingers. "Before I forget, I looked up Kaminari as you requested. I didn't find much. Supposedly, he took a human wife a few years ago. And I heard he is currently tasked with finding a captured nymph."
Shouto's lips pressed together. The twisting sensation in his stomach was back. "What about his magic?" He asked slowly.
"Magic?" Midoriya looked away. His expression flickered in thought. "I'm not sure." He rubbed at his chin. "He is an erotes of unrequited love….but unfortunately, that's all I know. Sorry."
Shouto paled. His heart felt as if it dropped into his stomach.
Unrequited love — How could he have forgotten? The erotes were divided by their specialities: familial love, romantic, sexual, and unrequited .
Shouto's hands shook. His breathing felt constricted, as if a boulder had fallen out of the sky upon his chest, crushing his lungs.
Midoriya looked back at him and asked. "Is there something specific you want to know about his power?"
Shouto's fingers twitched, and he curled them into tight fists. "No," he said. "Thanks."
"Of course. Anyways, if you're in Dicaea already, I suspect I'll see you in two months? I'll have everything ready by then!"
"Thanks, Midoriya. I got to go."
"Todoroki," Midoriya said. Shouto looked up, and Midoriya's expression shifted. He wet his lips and looked away as if in guilt. "I'm sorry. About before."
The fire flickered, and Midoriya's face grew fuzzy, as though the smoke were obscuring Shouto's view. Shouto nodded. "It's fine. I'll see you soon."
Midoriya gave him a small smile. "Yeah," he said before his face and voice faded away. Shouto was left looking at dying flames.
"You get your message to him?" Gran Torino asked, hobbling next to Shouto.
"Yeah, thank you," Shouto said. His stomach hurt; he wanted to leave. Shouto needed to think about everything Midoriya had said and what that meant for him.
Realistically, Shouto knew that this information didn't change anything. He was still under a curse, whether the magic made the love familial, romantic, or unrequited, it shouldn't matter. Yet, Shouto couldn't deny that somewhere in his heart, he had hoped that Yaoyorozu would one day return his feelings. The fact that the magic was unrequited and that Yaoyorozu would never love him hurt in a way Shouto hadn't expected.
He glanced back at the old man. "How much do I owe you?"
Gran Torino shook his head. "Let's count this one as on the house."
Shouto nodded thankfully, and Gran Torino led him towards the front of the shop. He opened the wooden door, and Shouto froze. His hand darted towards Endeavor.
The street rippled with barely suppressed tension. Shouto gaze darted around, looking for the danger but not finding it.
He sensed movement to his side as Gran Torino stepped forward. The old shopkeeper scoffed under his breath. "Trumpet."
Shouto glanced down at the old man, but Gran Torino was staring past him out at the port. Shouto grit his teeth and followed the old man's gaze. A tall man was walking down the street flanked by four guards. Their strides were in perfect unison, steel Xiphos strapped to their waists.
Shouto's gaze strayed back to the man in front. He was slim and dressed in a rich chiton of black. He had thin eyebrows and a small mustache. His dark hair was swept back with a single strand falling into his face. Nothing to be intimidated about, Shouto thought. Though he noted people giving the man a wide berth as if he were a wild boar to be avoided.
Suddenly, a skinny man rushed forward and began to grovel. "This way, sir. We have the woman you asked for. She's secured in a special container."
"You've kept me waiting," Trumpet snapped. "She better be worth it. And she better not have a scratch on her. I don't like damaged products."
Shouto watched Trumpet and the skinny man, who he assumed was a slaver, walk away for a moment before turning to look at Gran Torino.
"Who was that?" Shouto asked the old man.
Gran Torino scoffed under his breath. "Trumpet."
"I see. The innkeeper told me to watch out for him."
Gran Torino huffed. His lips twitched as if he wanted to say something more. "Yeah, you should be fine unless you have a penchant for buying slaves, specifically magical monsters."
Shouto snorted. He had never wanted a slave before Kaminari's arrow forced him to take Yaoyorozu as one.
Yaoyorozu!
Shouto jerked his head up. The sun had sunken low over the horizon, smearing the sky pastel crimson and oranges.
"Shit!" Shouto cursed, looking back at Gran Torino. "I got to go."
Shouto turned and raced back towards the market, praying he wasn't too late.
In the back of his mind, a voice wondered why Shouto even cared so much about purchasing a gift for Yaoyorozu. Midoriya had confirmed what Shouto had already known — Yaoyorozu didn't love him. Nor would she ever love him. Still, Shouto couldn't help the small shimmer of hope flickering in his chest that yearned for her affection. That urged him not to give up, to keep trying.
His legs burned. Shouto passed under the limestone pillars marking the edge of the market and skidded to a stop.
"Fuck!" Shouto hissed.
He was too late. Shouto stood there as a sense of failure washed over him.
He should go back. Yaoyorozu wouldn't know that he failed to get her a present anyways. He shouldn't be as upset as he felt.
What was he even doing? Yaoyorozu would never like him. Spending his effort and coin on her for a gift of little value would be a waste.
It wasn't like he was trying to spoil Yaoyorozu. This was a practical purchase, he reminded himself. He didn't have to go overboard trying to find the exact ribbon that Yaoyorozu would like. He could just get her a pin.
"Women love presents. If they say they don't want anything, that just means you need to get them something and make sure it's fancy." Haimawari's voice echoed in Shouto's head.
Shouto's fingers twitched. He couldn't give up.
Not now.
Not when he was so close.
Shouto hurried over to the stand Yaoyorozu had been eyeing earlier. An old woman, wizened with age, was dissembling a tent by herself. A donkey and cart stood by her side with finely decorated chests loaded on the back.
She looked up as Shouto approached. "I'm closed. Come back next week."
"That's too late."
"You should have stopped by earlier. I was here all day," she said distractedly, folding the tent up.
Shouto rolled his jaw. He knew he didn't have to. It wasn't as if Yaoyorozu would know that he failed. But he would.
Shouto grit his teeth. He couldn't go back as a failure.
"What if I pay you a gold drachma?"
The old woman jerked her head up and stared at him critically. "A gold drachma?"
Even Shouto knew that he was paying way more than a simple hair accessory was worth. But he couldn't turn back empty-handed
Shouto held up the coin. The woman hesitated a moment longer than nodded. "I guess I can make an exception."
She put down the tent and went over to the cart laden with chests. Climbing onto the back, she opened one of the chests.
"What are you looking for?" she asked, searching through the chests before she pulled out an embroidered diadem and a few silver bodkins. She held them out. "What about these?"
Shouto stepped forward and stared down at the hair accessories. His eyebrows pulled together as he tried to imagine Yaoyorozu's hair set high on her head with pins, but he had never had much of an imagination and couldn't imagine Yaoyorozu in the same hairstyle as other women.
"No," Shouto said finally. "Do you have anything else?"
The woman pressed her lips together. Her long knobby fingers tapped against the wood of the chest as if in thought, then her face brightened, and she looked back at him. "I was going to save this for a special occasion," she said, turning back to her chests and rustling through the contents. "But it's rare to find a man who is as dedicated to his lover as you, so I'm willing to part with this goodie." She pulled a string of fabric out of the chest and carefully unfolded it.
Shouto's breath caught. Even knowing it was the curse and that Yaoyorozu would never like him, Shouto couldn't shake the sudden feeling of victory that warmed his chest as he gazed at the piece of cloth.
"I'll take it."
The woman's smile widened. "I know you'd like it."
Shouto paid the old woman the gold coin then carefully took the ribbon.
It was beautiful.
Shouto wasn't used to handling delicate objects, but he did his best to fold the ribbon and tucked it securely into his chiton. A sense of victory washed over him.
He couldn't wait to give it to Yaoyorozu. He knew he had only bought it as a practical gift, but his chest warmed at the thought of her reaction. A small smile pulled at the corner of Shouto's lips, and he turned to go back to the inn when a high masculine voice called out.
"Yo, Todoroki!"
Shouto froze, and it seemed as if time stopped as he slowly turned around and met a pair of golden eyes.
The man smiled up at Shouto. He had spiky electric blonde hair with a black streak shaped like a lightning bolt drawn in a zagged line across the left side of his head.
"It's been a while."
It was like lightning struck Shouto. His insides burned. Shouto could hear his heart roar in his ears as an overwhelming furry coursed through him, bleeding the world red.
"Kaminari," Shouto hissed between his teeth.
Yo! If I didn't say it before, I'll say it now, Todoroki is a really hard character to write as a main lead. Whoever tells you otherwise is lying. The reason being is that he's a reactionary character. He doesn't act unless provoked either by strong emotions or by one of his friends, which makes him a difficult story protagonist. His "whatever" attitude, where he is content to watch things unfold from the sidelines, is great for a side character but makes it difficult to write him as a protagonist, where you need a character who makes decisions (good or bad). For instance, in this chapter, the Todoroki I imagine would get to the market and, if it were closed, would be like oh well, I'll come back tomorrow or guess a ribbon isn't something Yaoyorozu needs. But I needed him to be more motivated so I had to play around with his reactions, sorry if he isn't in character.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed and wishing everyone a lovely and happy holidays!
Notes:
1. Koku Hanabata also known by the code name Trumpet, was the leader of the Hearts and Mind Party who was secretly a leading member of the modern Meta Liberation Army. In this story he's a shady businessman.
2. Hestia, goddess of the hearth and its fires.
3. Don't remember if I ever spelled this out earlier, but Sparta had a highly unusual system of government. Two kings ruled the city, but a 28-member 'council of elders' limited their powers. In this story, I have Bakugou and Midoriya as the two princes. They aren't married. They just co-rule Sparta.
4. Sorahiko Torino - also known by his hero name Gran Torino, is a retired Pro Hero, and a mentor to Toshinori Yagi (All Might) and Izuku Midoriya. In this story he is a retired warrior who trained Prince Midoriya in some capacity and may (or may not) be a satyr.
5. Satyr - Men with goat (or horse) legs and tails. Think Phill from Hercules.