Midoriya woke up sore the next morning. His neck was stiff and his back ached. As he stretched himself out, he realized suddenly why he was on the floor in the first place; he sat up with a start and looked at the bed. It was empty.

"Oh God," he said, tossing the blankets aside and jumping to his feet. "He's gone, he's…"

Midoriya tore open the door and jumped out into the chilly air of morning. It was earlier than he normally got up, and after his still-warm house it shocked him. Trying to ignore how much he was shivering, he looked around frantically.

A little distance from the village, the horse stood, silent and relaxed. It, no, she looked up to eye Midoriya curiously, then lowered her head again and continued to graze. Midoriya exhaled, not even realizing until that moment that he'd been holding his breath. If the horse was still nearby, that meant Todoroki was too, somewhere.

Now that his initial burst of panic had subsided, the cold was beginning to get to him. He went back into the house and put on clothing more suitable for the chill of an autumn morning. It wasn't cold enough for him to see his breath, but it must have been close. After that, Midoriya went back outside to find Todoroki.

It hardly took any time to peek in the rest of the houses, since half of them were gaping open anyways. Todoroki wasn't in any of them, though, so Midoriya made his way to the river. On the way there he had to let the village out of his sight, so he ran, scared that the horse and her rider would leave in the few minutes Midoriya was away.

Todoroki wasn't at the river, either. Other than that, Midoriya could only think of one place he might be besides the village, and that was the pyre.

He hadn't gone back to the pyre since the day he lit it. In fact, he hadn't gone any place where it would be in his field of view at all. That meant he couldn't visit a quarter of the farms, but that was fine, it was better than the alternative.

So Midoriya went back to the village. He felt he should not go out of sight of the horse because of the ever-present risk that Todoroki might leave, so he went up to her directly, because he was still a little curious and in awe of her – the largest animal he'd seen up close. He talked to her in the same low, level voice he normally used on the sheep and told her she was a good girl, and she held his gaze; her pupils were rectangular and horizontal, foreign in the same way a sheep's pupils were. He dared to reach a hand up and pet her cheek, which was velvet-smooth when he stroked it along the grain.

A few minutes later Midoriya heard footsteps, and then Todoroki came into view from behind the hill. His face was blank, and his only greeting was a slight nod.

"You aren't gone," Midoriya said, hating himself for saying something so terribly obvious.

"No."

"You said you'd just stay one night," Midoriya said. "When do you plan to leave? Not that I want you to leave. You're welcome to stay as long as you want! I know I don't have much, but…" He was doing that thing again. He clenched his hands into fists, willing himself to stop it. "Like I said. Please feel free to stay. But only if you want to."

Todoroki looked at him for a long time. In the light of the day, Midoriya could tell that not only did he have fancy hair and eyes and a fancy horse, he also had fancy clothing; although it was dusty and worn from use, Midoriya could tell that it was high-quality stuff, with embroidery on the cuffs and collar of his shirt and boots made of leather. Suddenly Midoriya knew that his village – humble even at the best of times, and the barest of hovels now – would not be enough to keep this person nearby. He felt sadness like a weight in his chest, and swallowed, trying to push the thought away.

"Are you traveling somewhere in particular?" he asked, hoping this wasn't prying too much.

Todoroki shook his head. "I'm… no."

Again, Midoriya wondered whether he was running from someone, but the boy's reaction to his questions the night before made him not want to risk asking any more. "I know I'm poor," Midoriya began, "but I do have enough for both of us. And even if you don't stay for very long, it might be nice to have company for a few days."

"You said yesterday you haven't spoken to anyone in over a month?"

"That's right."

"So people don't come by this way very often?"

"No," Midoriya said. "Only a few times a year. The last people before you were…" He gestures to the village – to the burned-out house-husks, the ruined fences he hasn't repaired.

Todoroki looked down. For a long moment neither of them spoke. Midoriya had to will himself into silence; he could have gone on and on trying to convince the other boy to stay, but in the end he would only have been repeating what he already said. He knew desperation was ugly, but he wanted this so badly he had nothing else to give.

"I'll stay," Todoroki said. "For a few days." He paused, scratched his chin, and then, as if he could read Midoriya's mind, added, "I'll let you know when I'm planning to leave."

Midoriya could have jumped for joy, but managed to restrain his reaction to just a grin. "Thank you. I'm glad," he said, as if it wasn't pitifully obvious. Now that the looming fear of Todoroki's imminent departure was gone, the pressing weight on his chest had lifted a little. At the same time, he realized the world hadn't stopped turning, that he had things to do to feed not only himself but Todoroki as well.

Todoroki disappeared for a while. There was still the possibility, of course, that he might break the promise he'd made and leave without saying goodbye, and letting him out of his sight galled Midoriya like a sliver in his thumb. Still, he had no choice but to have faith in him.. The only alternative was to follow him around constantly, and that would drive him away.

Midoriya washed the bedding and hung it out to dry. He considered fishing, but in the middle of the day the river always seemed to have fewer fish; the catch was better in the early morning or at dusk. So instead he worked on the farms. He realized that it was the fields' final harvest: next year he wouldn't plant any more – he didn't know enough about farming to do much more than just pick what had already grown.

Their crops have outlived them, he thought. No, not all of them. Not everyone is dead.

The desolation around him got to him, as it always did. Maybe it would be better to clear away the burned houses, to raze them completely and start again. Still, Midoriya felt better than he had in weeks – since before all of this had happened. Just talking to another person made him feel like things were, well, not alright, but closer to alright than he'd hoped in a long time.

It was awful, in a way, that his happiness was so suddenly and thoroughly tied to another person, but he felt that this fragile and risky happiness was better than none at all.

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

Todoroki felt almost as if he was dreaming. The past few days had passed in a wild blur of riding, staying in dingy inns or sleeping outside as he tried to keep himself inconspicuous, and riding some more, backtracking and taking side routes everywhere to throw his pursuers off his scent. The continent was large, but it was still an island, and he felt as if there were only so many places he could go. But it wasn't until he reached Midoriya's village that he realized that instead of going far, he could go deep – find a place so tiny, so obscure that no one would think to look for him there. A place no longer on any map.

At least, that was what he told himself, although at the same time he knew his reasons for stopping weren't entirely strategic. It was the first time he'd spent the night anywhere and not left right away the next morning, and he wasn't sure yet if staying was stupid or brilliant; he supposed he'd find out soon enough. Mostly he'd seen Midoriya looking at him, eyes wide and tear-filled as he more or less begged Todoroki to stay; his heart had withered a little at the thought of refusing that sort of pleading request. He was weak.

Well, whatever. It would work out, or it wouldn't. Todoroki was weary and almost past caring. The days of travel had been hard, and he'd nearly been claimed by nihilistic thoughts at the end: If this is my life now, I'm not sure it's worth it anymore. He had kept going only because he had no idea what else to do.

So to suddenly halt that nightmare of strangers and constant travel and sleepless nights, to be thrown into a quiet, lonely world of fields and sheep and burned-out buildings… it was surreal, to say the least. After his first night staying in the village, Todoroki woke early, barely after dawn, and crept outside, careful not to wake the boy still asleep on the floor. The air was perfectly still, quiet save for birdsong. The sunrise was pink and gold. Todoroki decided to wander around the village. To simply stroll around, not needing to hurry away, was a breathtaking change of pace.

There wasn't much to see. All of the houses except for the one Midoriya had fixed up were roofless and charred, stripped bare of most possessions. Beyond the end of the village was the river, or maybe it was just a large stream. Todoroki filled his canteen and drank. It was so cold it took his breath away.

There wasn't much to see at that end besides the river, so Todoroki made his way to the other end of the village. This side, the east side, was buttressed by a hill, oddly steep compared to the other hills in the area but with a flattish top; Todoroki thought it might make a good lookout point, if he needed one. When he rounded it, he stopped and stared.

At first it just looked like a massive fire had swept through. Maybe there had once been another building that had burned to the ground, more thoroughly than the rest of the village. But as Todoroki stepped closer, he noticed bones among the ashes. It was a funeral pyre.

He tried not to think too hard of how that pyre had gotten built – Midoriya, slaving away in the summer sun, always so, so alone.

Todoroki decided it was strategically sound to stay in the village a little longer.

xxxxxx

Midoriya did his own thing during the days, and Todoroki did his, which mainly consisted of lying around, or riding his horse in circles, or finding some secluded place and practicing his magic on a very, very small scale. He offered to help Midoriya harvest crops or whatever it was he did, and the boy, maybe sensing how half-hearted the offer was, rejected it, much to Todoroki's relief. For the first time he could remember, he could be lazy, he could lounge around, he could waste days. It felt grand.

This lasted for three days. Midoriya no longer asked if he planned on leaving the next day. He promised he would say when he was going to. Todoroki himself didn't know.

The fourth day started off just the same as the others had. Todoroki was enjoying his solitude, and decided to hike to the top of the hill between the village and the pyre. It was a short hike, but steep; the grass was long and he kept losing his footing. At the top, though, the view was worth it. After gazing into the distance for a while, he felt pleasantly drowsy, and let himself curl up in the tall grass and take a nap, as if he were a cat.

He awoke to voices. Not Midoriya; the boy did talk to himself sometimes, but this was not him. There were two voices, both male, coming from the direction of the pyre. Todoroki shimmied forward on his belly, trying to make as little noise as possible. He was afraid to peer out, though, in case they might look up and see his head, poking through the grass, so he lay flat and listened.

"Are you sure?" one voice was saying. "Take your time."

"Yes, I'm sure. Do you know what this means?" A pause. "This means someone's still alive."

"It could have been the attackers. It might not be safe."

"You don't have to come with me, but I'm going to look. I need to know."

They lapsed into silence and Todoroki heard footsteps heading around the hill, towards the village. He finally dared to look out. There were two men there, just as he'd thought – or maybe they were just boys; their voices were deep, but they didn't look like they were quite adults yet, to judge by their builds. Todoroki didn't see a horse, so they weren't his father's lackeys, not that he'd expected them to be after that conversation.

They were almost certainly others from the village who'd escaped. Todoroki was surprised; part of him had assumed Midoriya was delusional and that he really was the only survivor. Todoroki no longer felt afraid of the travelers, but still hid himself, not wanting them to think he was one of the village's attackers.

After a pause, the voices exclaimed, almost in unison: "A horse!"

"What the hell?" one of them added a moment later. "That's… we've never had any of those around here."

"Did the attackers have horses?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think they're still around?"

"I don't know!" The voice's owner sounded like he was close to losing his cool. "I don't know any more than you do. Like I said, you can go if you want. I can come get you when I know it's safe."

Their voices faded as they kept walking, and only when they were out of earshot did Todoroki climb down the hill and follow them. He wanted to find Midoriya, preferably before they did; the travelers were so jumpy, Todoroki found himself worrying they'd attack him by accident if he caught them by surprise, the way Midoriya had almost done to him.

Todoroki was able to sneak away from the travelers while they were still scoping out the village – walking towards Midoriya's patched-up home, he noted with some dismay – and run off to the fields, where he knew the other boy was. Todoroki was breathless when he finally reached him.

"Todoroki?" Midoriya said, hurrying towards him and wiping sweat from his brow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's – wrong –" He was panting. God, I'm out of shape. "Just… people arrived. You might know them. They maybe…"

Midoriya had gotten the gist of what he was trying to say and was already striding towards the village. Todoroki followed behind, still panting, Midoriya's obvious excitement making his own heart beat faster with anticipation.

They reached the village just as the travelers rounded a corner; suddenly the four of them were face to face. Midoriya's mouth fell open.

"Bakugou?"

"Deku?" one of the travelers said. He had hair so pale it was lighter than his skin, which was sunburned, peeling, and freckled in turn. After a beat he turned his head to look at Todoroki, who nearly jumped out of his skin with the intensity of his gaze. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm just a traveler," he said. "Todoroki."

The other traveler stuck out his hand in greeting, and Todoroki shook it. "Kirishima," he said, smiling and offering his hand to Midoriya to shake as well. He had wild red hair and, Todoroki noted with some confusion, oddly sharp teeth. His smile was infectious, though, and Todoroki felt himself relax a little, when all of a sudden the boy leaned in and whispered, "So, what are you?"

The question was too quiet for the others to hear it, because Midoriya and Bakugou were both talking again, Midoriya beginning to cry and Bakugou half-shouting to speak over him.

"…thought I was the only one, thought you were dead – no one else has come back yet – I'm so glad you're here –"

"Who is he?" Bakugou was saying. "Is he one of them? Why is he here? Don't you think it's a little suspicious for him to just be a traveler?" He kicked the ground, and a cloud of dust rose up and coated his shoe. "It's just you here? No one else – no one else –?" He was shaking, taking great heaving breaths that Todoroki could hear. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to speak again. Todoroki caught Kirishima's eye and felt a surge of kinship for him – another outsider, caught up in something he didn't fully understand.

"Not everyone is dead," Midoriya said quietly, after they realized Bakugou was done speaking. "There weren't enough bodies."

"Then who isn't dead?" Bakugou said. Again, louder: "Deku! Who isn't dead?"

Todoroki couldn't remember feeling more awkward in his life. He was caught between wanting to step in and reassure Midoriya, who was beginning to cry a second time, and watching, not wanting Bakugou's wrath focused on him. He decided to stay quiet and let the scene play itself out; there was too much he didn't understand still.

"I don't know," Midoriya said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I tried not to look or anything. I didn't want to look too hard."

"Bakugou," Kirishima said. "Will you show me the river?"

They all turned to look at him, surprised into silence by the unexpectedness of his comment. But after a moment, Bakugou nodded, and the two made their way through the village, west toward the river.

"That's Bakugou," Midoriya said, a little unnecessarily, once they were out of earshot. "He was a shepherd like I was."

"You didn't get along…?"

"Oh, we were friends." Midoriya laughed, shrugged. "Well, that was a long time ago."

"I'm glad you aren't the only one, who, you know," Todoroki said, afraid to finish the sentence.

"Oh, yeah," Midoriya said, finally turning to meet his eyes for the first time since they'd spoken with the travelers. "Me too."

xxxxxx

Bakugou and Kirishima were gone a long time. Midoriya hurried about, preparing dinner for four, and this time he actually took up Todoroki's offer to help. Todoroki found himself clumsily chopping vegetables while listening to Midoriya talk about Bakugou. Most of their "friendship," if it could be called that, seemed to have been Bakugou teasing, terrorizing or ignoring Midoriya, while the latter tried in vain to get on his good side. Of all the people who could have come back, Todoroki thought, it had to be the one who was awful to him, didn't it?

"I'm glad he's alive, though," Midoriya kept saying, like he was trying to convince himself. "It's so good to see him again."

And he would shoot Todoroki a tired, teary smile, and Todoroki wondered why he was bothering to put on this façade at all. Why lie? Why not just say, "I'm glad I'm not alone any more, but I wish it had been someone else?"

It wasn't until Todoroki was done helping in the kitchen that he could spare any thought for the other traveler. His friendly smile, his easygoing tone and open body language, had made his words that much more alarming. So… what are you?

What did that mean? Todoroki wasn't sure whether to be offended or just confused. If it had been who are you, he would have understood; sometimes people saw the horse and the fancy clothes and assumed he was a prince or other nobility. Maybe that was what he'd meant? What are you – are you a prince?

No, Todoroki mused, that didn't really seem to make sense. It was almost like Kirishima had been questioning his species. Was it his eyes? Maybe the hair? He got strange comments about it sometimes, but he'd never gotten one like that before.

"Will you go and tell them that dinner is ready?" Midoriya said, startling him out of his train of thought.

Todoroki nodded and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He tended to fall into the trap of overthinking things; at this point, there was no use lingering on Kirishima's words until he had more data to analyze.

When Todoroki reached the river, the sun was low in the sky, but not yet set. It made it hard to see at first, but after a moment he could make out Bakugou sitting along the edge of the water. Todoroki didn't see Kirishima, but he noticed the boy's clothing on the bank. Swimming, then.

Todoroki got closer. He could see a body under the water, but the shape and color were all wrong. It almost looked like a huge fish, the way it moved. He stepped closer until he was right on the edge of the water and peered in.

Bakugou noticed him at last and let out a grunt of surprise. "Get out of here!" His voice was almost a shout. "Give us some privacy!"

Todoroki ignored him and knelt down beside the river, looking in. The creature looped around and came back, sticking its face above the water for the first time and looking into Todoroki's eyes.

It was a seal, slick with water, black eyes glittering gold in the sunset. Without a doubt, it was a seal. In a river. Todoroki couldn't do anything but stare.

Then suddenly, it was Kirishima.

He laughed and sputtered the water out of his mouth. "Cold!" he said, grabbing Bakugou's proffered arm to haul himself up onto the riverbank. He had something broad and dark in his arms – a pelt? – but was otherwise naked.

"I should have kept an eye out," Bakugou said, shooting Todoroki a glare, like it was his fault for stumbling onto this. Whatever "this" was. "I didn't even hear him coming."

"It's fine!" Kirishima grinned again. "Todoroki, I'm a selkie."

"Idiot! Are you just going to tell everyone?"

"I trust him," Kirishima said, shooting Todoroki a look that was confusingly conspiratorial.

"Don't be so trusting! You don't even know him!"

Selkie. Selkie. Todoroki wracked his brain, trying to think of what he knew about them. Obviously they could turn into seals, right? Was it just another term for shapeshifter? No – he made out the thing in Kirishima's hands, a sealskin, and remembered. Not general shapeshifters – could only change between human and seal. Lived by the ocean. Kept to themselves. Half wild, no cities, no writing, no magic. Needed the sealskin for some reason.

"Do you drown swimmers?" he asked. Kirishima gave him a look of blank shock, and Todoroki shook his head in apology. "No, sorry – that's mermaids."

"We're peaceful," Kirishima said in a tone of mock-wounded-pride. "We avoid humans." He laughed. "Mostly."

"I was supposed to tell you it's dinnertime," Todoroki said, finally remembering what had brought him there in the first place.

"Oh! You made us dinner!"

"It was mostly Midoriya, but yes."

Todoroki made his way, followed by the others. As he listened to Bakugou lecturing Kirishima – something about not being too trusting of strangers – he couldn't help thinking: This is going to be an awkward meal, isn't it?