~ Fragile Promises ~
The boy sniffed and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve. "My mum says you're a featherhead."
Izuku hummed, the corners of his mouth quirking up into an easy grin, "does she now…"
It wasn't quite a question but the child nodded seriously, "Mmhm…she says you're in love with a pirate…."
He frowned at this, "A pirate you say?"
"Takashi! There you are!"
Izuku glanced townside to find the mayor's wife, Yaoyorozu, preparing to climb down the rocky shore. He leapt to his feet, waving his hands frantically. "That's quite alright ma'am! I'll bring him to you," he called and he could see the conflict playing across her face. She nodded then, releasing fistfuls of her dress, allowing it to settle back at her ankles. Izuku lowered a hand to Takashi then laughed. The boy's lip stuck out in an impressive pout, arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Come on now, up you get," he coaxed then slotted his scarred hands under the boy's armpits and flung him onto his shoulders.
Takashi squealed with glee, his oddly sticky hands knotting in Izuku's hair as he trotted toward the rocks. They were slick and rough, but Izuku had spent much of his childhood roaming these shores with his father. Traversing the rocks with a squirming 5 year old on his shoulders posed no issue.
"Takashi, what did I tell you about bothering-"
"My apologies ma'am, but he wasn't bothering me at all. That being said," Izuku paused, taking a moment to weigh the consequences of his next words carefully, then continued. "You might want to keep a closer eye on him." He pulled the small boy off his shoulders and lowered him to the ground. "The waves almost swept him away. Had his back to the wa-"
"-Thank you Mr. Midoriya," she said, pulling the boy's hand away from his. Izuku gave her a weak smile. "I'm very glad that you were there but we should be going. It'll be dark soon." Yaoyorozu smiled tightly then turned to leave. Takashi beamed up at her like she was the sun.
"Mum! Mido was telling me a story! He said there was a whale one time in the harbor!" As they left, the boy told her the story, his free hand waving about as he spoke. It was sweet. He remembered telling his own mother stories. Stories that sailors, with skin like old leather, told him as his father and crew repaired their ships. They'd come to port with goods or for rest, and leave the news of the world beyond in their wake. Tales of war, religion, and love, of creatures and pirates and the wonders of the sea. As a child he longed to go with them, to voyage and see the world beyond his home.
But after his father died he was all his mother had left. She grew distant with heartache and, in another year, she followed her love into the void. Leaving Izuku alone.
Izuku smiled to himself, ignoring the clenching in his chest. It had grown duller as time passed, but even after 5 years it brought tears to his eyes. He sniffed and turned back to the sea then sat cross legged onto the coarse, dark sand. Without the sun's brilliance, the water looked almost black, seafoam fizzing on the shore as the waves ebbed and flowed. The dock was quiet this time of year; few merchants would risk their cargo and crew to battle the sudden storms that frequented this section of sea.
Moored ships and schooners knocked and swayed, deckbells like buoy bells echoed in the evening air. Most dockman had gone home to their families but he knew of a stubborn few that would still be working. He could hear life in the town behind him, could hear memories being made. The pub would be bustling about now, full of young couples and regulars alike. Izuku didn't see the appeal.
He knew what the townsfolk thought of him. Most pitied him. "Poor child fell in love with a man married to the sea," they'd say. It had begun not long after he turned 16 and watched as the Symbol of Victory disappear from the skyline, the final flash of the messaging mirror reflecting the summer sun served as their final goodbye. Izuku still carried his own in his pocket, waiting for his love's return that was three years overdue. He knew they meant well, telling him to let him go, to move on. To find a wife who can give him children.
It was unthinkable.
However, the looks of pity weren't what bothered him. It was the others, those who looked at him as one would a plague, that truly hurt. For a man to love another man, a pirate no less, it was blaspheme.
Izuku's eyes stung, the breeze cooling the path his tears had made before dripping from his chin. First, his father, then his mother, then…He twisted the worn bracelet that was woven onto his wrist. A fragile promise with an impossible weight.
As darkness took the horizon hostage, the wind turned cold, whipping through his clothes, the damp sand soaking him to the bone as he sat, as he did every evening. Waiting.
He shifted in the sand, the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention. Hastily he wiped his face to rid himself of incriminating tears.
"It's getting close to midnight," Mitsuki chided, prodding him on the shoulder with her knee.
He scoffed quietly, thankful it was her, and sniffed, "Shouto's making me take tomorrow off, figured I'd keep the stars company."
Mitsuki hummed and sank into the sand beside him with a dramatic plop and tossed an arm over his shoulders. "I'm sure the brat would approve," she said. Her breath smelled strong of ale.
Izuku hesitated then leaned into her side. "How do you deal with it?"
"With what, Izuku."
"How they talk about him."
"I imagine them saying it to his face," she laughed, "can you imagine?"
Izuku put on his best scowl and growled, "HAH!? What did you say!? I'll kick your ass!"
Mitsuki's laugh was so much like his, loud and obnoxious and came from somewhere deep inside her chest. Izuku laughed with her, though it wasn't as free. Slowly they quieted, their mirth replaced by the sound of crashing waves. They sat in silence, their minds lost in memories. Stars twinkled brightly overhead, unmoved by their unspoken grief.
"Have you played it yet," she asked, voice uncharacteristically soft. Izuku shook his head. "Would you?"
As if in answer, Izuku pulled the tin whistle from his pocket and anchored it against his lower lip. It was rare to hear such a typically cheerful instrument playing a mournful tune, but hope clung desperately to the notes as they drifted out to sea, never to reach the one they were meant for. The song was a question to which there was no answer, a silent plea that too, faded into the night.
"Come on," Mitsuki said, pulling herself to her feet before extending a hand to Izuku. He could tell she was crying, but he couldn't blame her, he was too. "You took the first watch. Go home, get some sleep." Izuku nodded and took her hand.
"Thank you, Mom," he said and hugged her tightly. He didn't want to leave, but he could tell Mitsuki was barely holding herself together. She preferred to break in solitude where her harsh, biting grief couldn't hurt those around her. He'd seen her before, a lone silhouette screaming curses at the sea that took her son, throwing harmless fistfulls of sand at the only thing unaffected by her anger. "I love you," he spoke into her hair. He felt her quiver and nod against him, but her reply was trapped behind a sob. "I'll drop by tomorrow. I promise."
He left her with a kiss to the cheek and a hopeful smile. The walk home felt different somehow, longer and colder. The horizon kept drawing his gaze, beckoning him with empty promises and wishful thinking. He should know better by now. Tomorrow will come as it always does and he will spend the evening alone with a ghost.
He climbed the stairs to his bedroom above the town Apothecary and took one final look toward shore before ducking inside. Moonlight poured in from the window, painting his room in mournful, monochromatic hues. In a daze, as it is most nights, he dresses down, letting his clothes sit in a heap upon the floor before slipping into a loose nightshirt and into bed.
He stared at the wooden tresses of the roof, tracing the engravings with his eyes. The sound of the harbor buoy bell's persistent tolling sang the ocean's melody. When he was younger, it had brought him comfort but time had twisted its song. Now, it mocked him, haunting the corners of his mind, a siren song. However, as he listened, it sounded as if the bell's toll was answered. His breath caught in his lungs, his body still as stone. He laid there, pleading for the hope to die down. Pleading for reason. There was only one man he knew crazy enough to take on their shoreline with nothing but the moonlight to guide them.
He was out of bed the next instant, tearing across the room and nearly tumbling out the window in his haste to catch a glimpse of the harbor. He watched, desperately searching the moonbeams.
But all he found were craggy rocks that jutted randomly from the inky black waters.
Izuku closed his eyes and sank back onto his bed, chasing the idea of sleep, but when sleep finally came, it was fitful, broken by dreams of wreckage, of drowning, and the watery, unmarked grave destined for all men of the sea.
Izuku groaned, waking to tears on his cheeks and someone hammering at his door with a vengeance. He tore his eyes open to stare at the sky out his window. It was barely morning, the sky strewn with lazy lavenders and grays. His sleep left him feeling like he'd been kicked in the chest by a horse. There was hammering at his door again and he scowled. "I'm not home," he growled, not ready to face a day without work to drown himself in.
The third time the fist collided with his door Izuku shot out of bed and tore it open, intending to rip someone's face off. "WHAT- Oh! Sho-"
"Harbor, NOW." Shouto nearly yelled, his tone startling for someone normally so even tempered. Izuku's heart stopped, his eyes flicking to the place in question and for a moment, time slowed to a crawl.
"Katsuki…" he breathed and, as if possessed, his body moved on its own, weaving frantically through the crowd of onlookers, gawking at the impossible sight before them. A schooner with three beautiful masts bobbed lazily in the harbor as if it had never left. Izuku could hardly see, could hardly breathe. Tears dripped down his face and the wind whipped through his hair, stinging his skin.
It was impossible. Completely and utterly impossible and yet, here she was, The Symbol of Victory, in all her glory, home 3 years past her expected return. The crew bustled loudly on deck, hastened by roughly barked orders. Izuku knew that voice. He knew the cadence, the resonance, the way it reverberated in his chest, thrumming wildly with his heart. The townsfolk whistled and cheered as the crew cast a line, mooring the ship. Hopeful eyes searched the sundrenched silhouettes for loved ones.
His bare feet slapped against the worn wood of the dock and then he was flying, fingers grasping at the thick, knotted ropes that hung from the deck railing. Like a man on fire he climbed, pulled himself on deck then-
"Izuku…"
Their bodies collided with such force it knocked the air from their lungs as they clung to each other. Izuku buried his nose and tear-stained cheeks in the hollow of Katsuki's neck, breathing deep of salt and sandalwood and sweat. A scent he'd missed more than life itself.
"Three years," Izuku sobbed.
"I know…" Katsuki's voice was wrecked as he knotted a hand desperately in the back of Izuku's hair, the other at his waist. He buried his nose in seagrass hair and drew him in closer, sinking at last into the scent of home.
"Katsuki-," it was almost a plea, "You- you're here," he asked as if he couldn't believe what was happening.
"Yeah, I'm here, Izuku, I know…I'm so- fuck- I'm so sorry.."
"I thought-" Izuku couldn't bring himself to voice the fears that had plagued his dreams like the relentless waves that crash against the seaside cliffs, wearing them down. "Oh Gods! I didn't know- I-"
"Shhhh…. it's alright, I'm okay!" Katsuki drew him still closer, their impossible proximity threatening to combine them eternally into one being. His steadfast, calloused hand at the back of Izuku's neck, smoothed his unruly hair, his gentle assurances only made him sob harder. "I'm okay now. Hey, let me look at you," Katsuki swallowed thickly trying to step back, to see Izuku's face, but the man came with him. "Gods I missed you…"