It takes around a week or so for the commissioned items from the artificer to arrive. During that time, for a day or two, Izuku had been subdued. His mom fretted, of course, hovering nearby until Izuku broke out of his stupor and asked Chise-san and his mom if he could help tend the garden. Overjoyed, the two women readily agreed. Chise-san showed him the basics of gardening while his mom worked on filling out the legal paperwork to be a permanent resident of the United Kingdom, as per request by Ainsworth-san the day prior when he'd finally awoke.
While Izuku's beyond thankful for their hospitality, and feeling more like family each and every day, Ainsworth-san is a bit difficult to read and, in turn, makes Izuku weary of him. If only for the reason that he can't read into facial expressions (for Ainsworth-san has none as far as he is concerned) to decipher their mild and brief interactions. However, that thought is quickly wiped away when he steadily sees the love and affection shared between Chise-san and her husband.
So, Izuku tries to interact with Ainsworth-san, and throughout the week he sees himself bonding with the mage. Ainsworth-san gives him the go-ahead to call him Elias, and despite his best efforts it ends up sounding more along the lines of "Eriasu" but the mage doesn't seem to mind. Instead, it seems as if he enjoys it, if the crinkling lights of his eyes were anything to go by. Chise-san had pointed out how the lights in Elias-san eyes were the more expressive part of his skeletal face, alongside the movement of his jaw.
Slowly, as the days crept by, Izuku started to see more and more of Elias-san's expressions with a little help from Chise-san. He sees the light in Elias-san's eyes grow sharp when he's amused, crinkling alongside the edges. The lights grow foggy when he's tiring, and they're soft when interacting with his wife. When he's interacting with Izuku his eyes are sharp, glowing like small embers, and it takes Izuku by surprise how accommodating and patient the mage is. It is so unlike what Izuku is used to being treated as, for most of his childhood consisted of a friend-not-friend treating him as low as dirt, with little to no patience and a short temper. Kacchan was a force to be reckoned with, and Izuku still feels the vestiges of hurt feelings and broken promises lingering when he thinks of his childhood friend. Of what could have been and so-on.
The day the commissioned items arrive have both families congregating together in the living room. His Ariel Neighbors nestle themselves in his hair, having already braided buttercups into his hair; Sara sits on his lap as he absentmindedly rubs her stomach. She coos in contentedness.
His mom stares at the magi, a queer look on her face, but she stays silent until Elias-san speaks up first.
"The items we requested from the Barley family arrived today. Izuku,"
Izuku looks at him, firm in his stance and giving a slight nod to let him know he's paying attention. Elias-san's jaw imperceptibly moves, and Izuku can only fathom what that means, and finally the mage nods back. Chise-san stands and presents to him a rather large box, and with a squeeze of reassurance on his shoulder from his mom, Izuku slowly moves Sara to the floor, despite her soft protests, and grabs the box. It's wrapped in a smooth, royal blue silk and tied off with long, thin cord of black leather. Upon closer inspection the leather has runes inscribed on it, and Izuku can feel the soft murmur of magic coming from it.
Deciding he has dawdled long enough, Izuku unties the leather cord and sets it on the armrest of the couch. He unravels the silk and lets it fall across his lap like a blanket, and Izuku blinks, because woah, the magic in the cloth murmurs reassuringly just as the leather cord, but this is more health and harmony than anything else. It takes his breath away.
"Izukkun," Chise-san says, breaking him from his reverie. "Are you sensitive to magic?"
"Ah?" he says unintelligently before shaking his head, "I don't think so? I mean, I kinda figured everyone could feel magic in some form or another." He says honestly.
"Sensing magic," starts Elias-san, saying it in his low timber, "is nothing to scoff at. Yes, some can sense it, but it's only mild. You seem to be able to sense it and understand it, am I correct?"
Izuku nods. "Yeah, like the leather cord and silk both mummer about protection while the silk delves deeper and offers health and harmony. Can you guys really not hear it?"
"I see what you say about the protection aspect of it," Chise-san pipes up, a look of deep concentration on her face, "and vaguely I can pick up what you mean by health and harmony from the silk, but I wouldn't have picked that out had you not pointed it out."
Elias-san crosses his arms and looks at Izuku, his eyes sharp in an edge that isn't amusement but rather in attentiveness, "I can only sense what I have learned throughout the years, but it's more so knowing there is magic, be it malignant or not, than knowing what type of magic there is. It has been said Sleigh Beggys are particularly sensitive to magic, but even then there has been no recollection of understanding magic on the level you seem to display."
"He's always been perceptive as a younger kid, I wonder if this is why," his mom muses.
"It may very well be so," says Elias-san. "We'll continue this tangent on a later date, Izuku, you may find it to your best interests to continue unboxing."
Izuku hums and does as he's told, sliding the lid of the wooden box off. He can hear the soft stroke of magic from the wooden box ("Oak," Iris had whispered in his ear) that offers prosperity and strength. Izuku takes a deep breath, grabbing the small cloth bag in the corner of the box and pulls out a jade stone that looks like half of the yin and yang symbol, or even a comma, with a hole in the thickest area.
"A magatama?" his mom says softly to herself, sounding a bit confused.
"Is that what this is?" Izuku asks, before tilting his head. "What is a magatama, anyways?"
"There's a whole story behind it and we can get back to that on a later date; but it is said that the magatama protects one's health, gets rid of any calamities in the body and repels evil spirits from the person wearing it." Chise-san says.
Izuku bobs his head in lieu of responding, and looks between the odd-shaped stone and the leather cord, before coming to a nice conclusion. The magi look at him carefully as he slips the cord through the magatama before asking his mom to tie it around his neck. His mom, after looking at the magi questioningly, does as she's asked and carefully ties the cord at the back.
Izuku feels at ease, and though he cannot currently feel so, the ache in his lungs will disappear throughout the week. He can't help but wonder if this does indeed repel evil spirits, and thus, ill-wanting Neighbors; if so, this would have been a nice a few years back with the influx of Neighbors in Musutafu vying for his magic.
He then proceeds to dig into the box some more, wanting to know what other magical items he acquired. He slips on a silver ring, and pulls out a prettily crafted athame. There's, what Chise-san calls, a sage smudge, and rune stones made out of aventurine. A chalice, a cast iron cauldron and a blank brown leather journal labeled "Grimoire." There's also a small, hand-held besom and bell. A robe, a handful of different crystals in a cotton bag, a rose quartz pendulum, a stone mortar and pestle, and so on with need-on-basis magical tools. Chise-san and her husband would explain each item and what they were used for, what they were made of and what that meant. They explained how he himself must make his own wand on a later date. Izuku had nodded in understanding.
They eat lunch after the unboxing, with Izuku not once feeling the need to cough his innards out, which is a huge improvement for him, if he does say so himself. He enjoys the steak and mashed potatoes, while also passing some of his lettuce from his salad to Sara, Bo and Peep, who happily munch on it. Ruth-san talks about some of Chise-san's adventures when she was just shy of sixteen. Chise-san herself rebukes him, but then Elias-san adds a playful quip and Silky silently nods, and the red-haired woman silently acquiesced to Ruth's retelling of her adventures.
All in all it's quite silly and pleasant.
After lunch they head back towards the living room, where the adults sit him down and talk about future plans: i.e. his studies.
"We're all come to an agreement that you'll be homeschooled until September arrives," Elias-san says. "We're hoping that by then your English will be good enough both comprehensively and vernacularly."
"I'll study English alongside you," says his mom with a smile, "seeing as I'll need to know it as well."
"We expect for you to keep up with both your studies, be it magical or not, do you understand?" Chise-san says firmly. "A well rounded person is someone who'll surpass and not stagnate."
Izuku, more determined now than ever, nods sharply. Because that makes sense, he can't just drop his studies, he needs a future to look forward to. He can't stagnate, for how will he learn to live life to the fullest if he were to do so?
A hand lands on his hair, which thankfully is uninhabited from his Ariel Neighbors who'd gone out to look and stake out the other nearby Neighbors. Izuku looks up to see Ruth-san, who smiles at him. "You'll do good, kid."
Elias-san stands abruptly and gestures towards his mom. "Come, we need to finalize your paperwork."
"Yes, of course," she says and follows him out of the living room, but not before plopping a kiss on Izuku's brow.
Chise-san, Ruth-san and he talked for a bit, about magic and gardening or something along those lines, or even what it's like to be a familiar on Ruth-san's part, before Chise-san asks him what he's sure has been bothering her for a while.
"Izukkun," she falters for a bit, and Izuku allows for her to gather her thoughts. He can only guess what this conversation will lean towards, seeing as they are both Sleigh Beggys and their situations were perhaps not all that different from one another. "Your Neighbors, were they always so—?
"Friendly?" he asks, interrupting her without meaning to.
"I was going to say affectionate," she quirks her lips in a brief smile. "But I guess friendly works as well."
Izuku dwells on her question, before shaking his head. "They've always been friendly with me, but they didn't use to be so affectionate, it started with—"
↞o-o↠
Years ago…
When Izuku turned three, he Saw them. They're brightly colored, with feathers and pointed years and large doe eyes. They always looked at him through their window when he's nestled comfortably in his mom's arms at night. Izuku would wave at them and start to giggle when they waved back and made silly faces at him. His mom would stir, mumble something under her breath before succumbing back to deep sleep.
This would happen a few more times, and sometime during that time a pair of flying sheep-look alikes came, slipping through the closing door one late evening and eventually just staying. The pair helped Izuku keep warm at night alongside his mom, allowing Izuku to comb his fingers through their fluffy white hair. They would bleat at him reassuringly during the night, and they accompanied him during his first day of preschool. He was excited to introduce them, who he named Bo and Peep, to Kacchan, seeing as his mom would always coo about his imaginary friends and act as if they weren't there. They were! They were there!
But his enthusiasm fell short when he realized that Kacchan's eyes slid right past his friends to land on him. Though it was all forgotten when Kacchan broke out into a smile and they played together as Heroes saving the day from imaginary villains for the rest of the day whenever they had the chance.
One afternoon, when his mom tearfully gave him his own room, Izuku opened the window for the silly looking feathery faeries that always made faces at him. They cooed at him, dancing above his head and singing lullabies of a far away place called Tír na NÓg. They sung of grand adventures, of magic and the fae Queen, Titania and her husband Oberon. It made Izuku want to experience it for himself, so he tried to clamber out his window ledge and onto the fire escape. The feathery fae encouraged him the whole while, telling him the greatness of magic and how beautiful Tír na NÓg was, but before he could clamber onto the escape his mom's voice called out to him, telling him it was time for dinner.
The fog cleared from his eyes long enough for him to fall back into his new room and bed before he expressed his thanks to the hovering fae, for telling him the nice story and singing to him. He was a polite boy, and that was what you ought to do when someone does something for you. Of course, he was also naïve and didn't see the deception for what it was. He didn't see their faces turn ugly as left his room, and didn't see their mien turn cunningly. For the fae were greedy creatures, and they got what they wanted eventually.
They had claimed the boy, that Sleigh Beggy, as their own.
And so, each morning they taught the boy about equal exchange as they wished for honey, and in turn they weaved flowers into his green — like a healthy pasture, or even a radiant forest — hair. They tried each night without fail to lull him into a trance-like the first evening, but each time Izuku would smile benevolently and ask them if they could show him how to weave flowers into a crown. They would do so and ask for warm milk and honey in return. For the request wasn't big enough to ask him to follow them into the woods and back to their homeland. Of the seven Ariels, it had dwindled down to three, for the others did not hold the patience of Wisteria, Iris and Chrys.
Chrys soon realized that he became attached to the young child, and so he raged when his charge's friend slowly turned against the green haired boy. The young boy sobbed into his pillow many nights, and Chrys would sit near his ear and sing lullabies long since forgotten.
Iris realized she cared for the boy when violent Neighbors had physically attacked and harmed the young boy, and she had to step in to stop them. She may be small, but her control over winds had helped in the matter.
Wisteria realized she was fond of the boy when he sought her tutelage. He was always eager to know whatever she knew, and always soaking it up like a sponge when she told him what she knew, which was quite a bit of knowledge.
They never realized they stop caring when he'd come to Tír na NÓg with them, and started caring for the boy itself.
So, once they came to that conclusion, they swore a vow between the three of them to care and nurture the young child, that their attempts of bringing him to Tír na NÓg would be secondary to his health.
They called the young boy Midori-chan and made sure to guide him with good intentions, shoving their greed at the back of their minds. He offered his own magic in return, even if he never realized what he was doing consciously. It kept them, Bo and Peep, and the newly acquired Sara in good health, it made them reek of his pure magic and protection, of his love and devotion, that drew many bitter and jealous stares in their direction. That wasn't to say that Midori-chan didn't extend a loving hand to the Neighbors that deserved it, but he never extended that olive branch that the six of them had. It was a sweet little victory on their parts, especially to Wisteria, Iris and Chrys.
When Izuku was diagnosed quirkless, he was confused, for how could he see what he Saw when no one else could? But then whispers of magic and tales of old resurfaced in his mind and he found his answer. For Izuku may not have had a quirk, but he had something greater, he had magic. Though that didn't seem to help with his predisposition as he got small bouts of fever that had all his Neighbors in a frenzy each time.
"'S just a fever," he'd murmur reassuringly and would pat Sara who'd settled on his chest. When he'd get better eventually, his Ariel Neighbors would try to convince him to go to Tír na NÓg to get even better, to be cured, but he'd laugh it off and ask to go for a walk outside. And so they would, and Izuku would learn about the flora in the forest of Musutafu while walking with his mom, making sure to make his nods imperceptible so she wouldn't see them and worry about his health once again. She'd been hovering nearby ever since the doctor had diagnosed him as quirkless, worrying her lip and making sure he was happy and alright.
"I am happy," he'd say in a tone of voice as if it were obvious when she'd ask how he was.
"You tell me if you aren't, okay?"
"Okay," he'd promised.
And so two years have passed since he started conversing with his Neighbors and being protected from the more violent ones. Two years have passed since he gained a family other than his mom. Two years, and Izuku came to a conclusion.
"Izuku," the boy said one evening when he was five, "you may call me Izuku."