Thank you again for everyone who read and reviewed! I truly appreciate all of you more than words can describe!

Shout out to my awesome betas: FlourChildWrites and C's Melody! Thank you so much for looking this over multiple times.

Disclaimer: Boku no Hero characters are owned by Horikoshi.

Warmth spread throughout Shouto's body as his lips pressed against hers.

She tasted sweet, like honey and red wine. He couldn't remember the last time he had tasted something so good, or anything for that matter. Maybe in a time before the war.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, pulling back slightly until he could look down at her.

His heart stuttered. She was flushed and still breathing heavily from her fight. Dark eyes as black as the darkest of nights glittered as she stared back at him.

An unnamed feeling clenched in Shouto's stomach.

She was beautiful. All he wanted was to wrap her in his arms and hold her gently. Shield her from the world. He leaned back into her, wanting more. Needing more.

Absently, his thumb brushed over her pulse. She flinched. A look of apprehension flashed across her face before she could hide it. Suddenly, it wasn't the priestess' face Shouto saw anymore, but the tear-stained face of his mother.

She thought he was going to hurt her, he realized.

The thought was like a bucket of cold water. Shouto jerked away and released her neck, taking a step back. His heartbeat rung in his ears. He had promised himself that he would never be like that man, and yet, here he was, forcing himself on her.

Shouto flexed his fingers in anger and curled his trembling hands into fists. He took a long shuddering breath to calm himself and was hit by the thick stench of blood and ash.

Shouto looked up. Ash swirled through the air as the roof of the temple continued to burn furiously. The structure looked like it could fall at any moment.

They couldn't stay there.

Unthinking, Shouto brought his left hand to his side to rest upon Endeavor's hilt but stopped short as he remembered he had left the sword impaled in a man's head. He dropped his hand back down to his side and looked back at the priestess. "What's your name?"

She started, and then straightened, pulling her shoulders back with all the grace of royalty, as if she hadn't just agreed to enslave herself. "Momo. Momo Yaoyorozu of the Temple of Apollo," she said. Her voice carried the faintest tremor.

Shouto nodded. He didn't know what else to say. Part of him was tempted to lean back in and reclaim her lips, but he pushed the feeling away.

He wasn't sure why he had kissed her in the first place or agreed to their arrangement for that matter. He had never been particularly fond of slavery. It was a necessary evil that powered his home State's economy, but he had never cared to partake. The contradiction left him wondering what had suddenly changed his mind.

Shouto's lips thinned into a straight line. In the moment, her offer had just felt right. An equal exchange for... His eyes slid to the side and landed on the half-man that she had been protecting.

The monster was badly hurt.

Abdominal wounds were tricky. They could either mean a slow, cruel death as the organs bled out, or they were low enough on the stomach to not leave lasting damage if stitched up properly. Either way, even if Shouto brought the creature back to camp, no surgeon would operate on it. It would be a miracle if it survived. The merciful thing would be to end the beast's suffering before its internal organs slowly failed …His expression grew hard. Shouto took half a step forward.

Abruptly, the priestess moved in front of him, throwing her arms out wide, and pulling Shouto from his thoughts.

Her dark eyes flashed. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him," she said coldly. "I gave myself to you, and you promised to let me heal him. You can't go back on it so soon. If anything happens to him I'll... I'll..." Her bottom lip quivered faintly.

Shouto opened his mouth and then shut it. His chest tightened at the accusation in her tone. Something deep within him wanted to reassure her that everything would be alright, to trust him, but he had never been good with words, not like Midoriya, and he didn't know what to say that she'd believe. Shouto's jaw tightened. "I've never broken a promise before. And I won't start now," he said sharply.

She searched his face. Shouto swallowed through a suddenly dry throat and looked away. "We need to get going," he continued, his gaze falling on the dead scattered across the temple square. "We have to get back to camp before someone comes looking for them. I'm not in the mood to deal with questions."

He didn't wait for her to respond. Shouto turned and made his way to the warrior impaled by Endeavor. He stopped and took a silent breath. Then, squared his shoulders and pulled the sword from the soldier's head with a small grimace. Blood and brain matter shot out and sprayed his shins.

'The strong live. The weak die,' Shouto reminded himself as he flicked the blood from Endeavor's steel body. He was strong, so he had lived. That was all there was to it. He shivered and sheathed Endeavor at his side, before glancing back at Yaoyorozu.

She crouched down next to the creature, checking its wounds. For a moment, Shouto appraised her silently. She was strong for a civilian — both in her ability to wield a weapon and her composure when dealing with him. He had been told countless times how intimidating and off-putting he could be with his deadpan expression and cold demure and yet, she didn't shy away from his touch or tremble when he spoke to her.

Shouto frowned. The warmth spreading throughout his body as he watched her was foreign. He wondered again what had compelled him to accept her deal.

He had never desired a slave before. It grated on some small moral compass that Shouto kept buried deep in the middle of his chest. And the fact that he wasn't angry or at least appalled by the sudden turn of events and his decision to accept Yaoyorozu as a slave was, admittedly, a bit confusing.

Had Kaminari done something to him?

Unconsciously, Shouto touched the place where the god's arrow had lodged. Gods were nefarious creatures, infamous for their meddling and influencing of mortals, but he didn't feel any different after the attack. Shouto replayed the last couple of minutes through his mind. The only thing he had done differently was kiss Yaoyorozu.

Perhaps the erotes of lust had made him a kissing fiend?

Shouto scowled at the thought. That explanation didn't seem right, but he didn't have any other answer. Kaminari's motives escaped him entirely, and it infuriated him.

Yaoyorozu wiped at her eyes with the back of her arm, and Shouto jerked back to attention as her composed mask slipped. An electric shock jolted through him as desperation flashed across her features, and she looked around, trying to find something to staunch the bleeding.

Shouto's chest tightened. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt guilty. As if her distress was his fault.

He rolled his jaw and turned, his gaze landing on the dead soldiers. The green cloaks of Athens were wrapped around their shoulders. Shouto strode over to the nearest one and tore it off the soldier's corpse.

The dead had no use for clothes in the underworld, he thought, shaking the material out. He turned back towards Yaoyorozu. "Here."

Yaoyorozu looked up. Her face was slightly pale, and her eyes were dark with desperation that she was barely keeping in check. Her hands were pressed firmly against the wound, trying to staunch the blood loss.

They needed to get it back soon. It was hard to tell how hurt it was with the amount of blood covering its torso. He knelt down beside her. "Wrap this around its wounds," he said, holding out the cloak.

Yaoyorozu looked at the fabric for a heartbeat, then her eyes widened and she hastily snatched the cloak from him. "He's losing too much blood," she said, her voice wooden as she pressed the cloth onto the wounded area.

Shouto's eyes hardened. He could practically feel the despair dripping from her words. "We can't treat it here. We'll have to bring it back to camp," he said. His lips thinned into a straight line. "I'll lift it up while you wrap it." He paused for a moment and looked at her. "Have you wrapped a wound before?"

Yaoyorozu gave a short nod. "But we need to stop the bleeding as much as possible before we move him." She swallowed and took several deep breaths as though she were trying to steady herself. "I'll need a stick or something to hold the knot closed. It needs to be fastened tight enough to put pressure on the wound and stop the blood flow."

Shouto nodded. His gaze landed on Yaoyorozu's spear that had fallen a few feet away. Shouto pulled himself up and grabbed it. It was a beautiful piece of metalwork, but he didn't waste time as he snapped the handle in half. He brought the smaller bar back to her.

Yaoyorozu barely glanced up as he held it out. Her breathing was erratic as she snatched it from his hands.

Shouto moved to sit on the other side of the half-man. Hooking his arm under its back, he pulled it up into a seated position.

The creature groaned faintly at the movement. Yaoyorozu swallowed. Then her face hardened in concentration, and she went to work. With swift, diligent movements, she began to wrap the cloak tightly around the creature's stomach.

It occurred to Shouto that she must be used to treating wounds. During the war, the average Trojan citizen or soldier had nowhere else to go besides the temple for help. She must have seen her fair share of injuries. The knowledge filled him with a certain awe as he watched her slender fingers pull and tighten the cloth into a tight knot.

Yaoyorozu sat back on her heels. She took a deep, shuddering breath and then looked at him, massaging her wrist. Her hands were dyed red. "This should hold for now, but I have to hurry and start treating him." She stood up and her gown rode up her legs, showing off creamy skin. A foreign emotion bloomed in Shouto's stomach as his eyes moved up her pale legs. "I'll be ready in a moment, I just need to get him up."

Shouto's eyes roamed over her skin, and his mouth went dry.

Gently, Shouto laid the creature back down on the ground. He stood up. His fingers moved to his neck, unbuckling his cloak. "Here. Wear this until we find you something," he said, pulling off his cape. He held it out.

Yaoyorozu stopped her fidgeting. Her brows furrowed, and her dark eyes flickered in confusion as she glanced up at him. Hesitantly, she reached out and took the cape, swinging it around her shoulders.

She was only slightly smaller than him, yet the red material dwarfed her. She clasped it shut, staining the gold clip red with blood.

Shouto turned his attention back to the creature as she adjusted the material. He bent down, hooking a hand under its knees and another on its upper back. Slowly, he hoisted the beast up. Shouto glanced back at Yaoyorozu, and his stomach twisted. She was looking at him with fear in her eyes again. And he stiffened, unsure of what he had done. "What?" he asked, ungracefully.

Yaoyorozu stepped closer. "I can do it! Please, don't hurt him," she said, bringing her hands up to clench in front of her heart and gingerly rubbing at one of her wrists again.

Shouto paused as realization dawned on him. She thought he was going to renege on his promise. His jaw twitched. "It's fine. You're exhausted, and it will be troublesome if someone came and found us now. They'd think your guardian was the one who had killed these men and want to hold him responsible," he said, hoping his explanation would ease her worries.

Yaoyorozu stared at him. She licked her lips nervously. "But I...I don't want to break our agreement. You said I have to take care of him myself, and you've already helped me bandage him."

Shouto paused and looked at her. "Don't worry. I won't count this as a breach of our agreement," Shouto said, adjusting his hands.

She swallowed and nodded, and then Yaoyorozu was at his side, her hands reaching over the creature to apply pressure to the wound. "Please, we have to hurry."

Shouto's chest tightened, and he nodded, setting a brisk pace back to the Spartan camp. She seemed to relax slightly as they moved away from the temple.

"Thank you," she whispered and Shouto felt more warmth than he probably should have at her words.

Xxxx

Bakugou was waiting for them on the outskirts of the Spartan camp, surrounded by what felt like half of the Greek army. The men created a semi-circle around them as they looked at the creature Shouto was carrying with awed horror. It was claustrophobic. He felt like he was on some sort of display, and Shouto's muscles in his neck tightened.

He stopped a few paces away from the Prince.

Bakugou's red eyes narrowed on the creature in Shouto's arms. "What's this? A pet for me to keep?" Bakugou said with disdain.

Shouto didn't budge. He shot him a leveled gaze. "I need a clean place. Can you help?"

Bakugou's lips pulled back to show his pointed teeth. "Why the fuck should I do that? I told you I won't take any more slaves. And I certainly don't need a half-dead bird."

Yaoyorozu stepped forward. Shouto tensed as she moved to stand beside him. "Please. I made a deal with Todoroki." She touched her hand to her heart. "I gave him my life in exchange for letting me save Tokoyami."

Surprise flashed briefly across Bakugou's face. He looked between them and rolled his jaw. "What the fuck is this, half-and-half?" he asked, his eyes shining with barely suppressed anger.

Shouto shifted, blocking Yaoyorozu from view and Bakugou's building fury. The Prince's eyes narrowed.

"It's as she said. I have guaranteed that she can try to heal it, in return for her life." Shouto could feel the priestess fidget nervously behind him. The tension in his shoulders tightened. He consciously had to stop himself from gripping the half-man too tightly.

A moment passed as Bakugou stared at him, and then his eyes widened. Something indecipherable flashed behind Bakugou's gaze. "Fine," he said, his voice barely loud enough for Shouto to hear it. He turned towards the group of Spartans gathering around them.

"Grape head!"

A young boy with a head of curls so tightly packed that they looked like the dark purple grapes of the vineyards wobbled forward on shaky legs. If Shouto remembered correctly, his name was Mineta Minrou, and the Spartan had gotten in trouble with the Prince for his lewd jokes as well as trying to touch some of the camp women.

Bakugou's lips pulled back into a snarl. "Go get a place ready for me. I want clean straw and a hot bath."

The boy's mouth pulled down into a scowl. "I already got you a place ready," he muttered under his breath.

Bakugou's eyes narrowed. "What was that?" The boy yelped in fear; sweat began to bead his forehead. Bakugou ignored his evident terror as he continued, "I want it far from here. I don't want the fucking half-human smelling up my quarters," he said harshly.

The small boy nodded and scuttled off. The next moment, Bakugou was leading them to the back of the Spartan territory right by the outer walls. As they passed soldiers setting up tents, Bakugou would growl and order the men to move or he'd leave them in Troy to find their own way back home. The men would blanche and quickly pack up. They continued, until they came to the outer section of the Spartan camp and one of the only fully intact houses.

Bakugou pushed open a door and then stepped back. Shouto ushered Yaoyorozu through the entryway and walked in after her. It was a one-room house with a tiled roof. There was little to it that wasn't immediately apparent.

A wooden four poster bed sat against the far wall covered in thick blankets. The only other pieces of furniture were a rectangular wooden table sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by wooden chairs and a wooden basin filled up with fresh water. Whatever dirt or debris left behind by the original inhabitants had already been cleaned up.

It was supposed to be Bakugou's quarters, Shouto realized as he strode across the room and laid the creature down on the table.

The priestess was immediately at his side, checking on her temple guardian. Shouto cracked his neck and turned back towards Bakugou. The Prince leaned against the door frame and gave him a leveled look. "I'll send someone with food and wine."

"May we also have warm water, a clean cloth, flax or hemp, and a needle?" A feminine voice cut in.

Shouto stopped and turned to stare at the priestess in surprise. Yaoyorozu folded in on herself slightly as his gaze met hers. Her fingers played with the edge of his cape, twisting the material around her red fingers that had already started to cake. "Please…my… my Prince," she added softly, her gaze dropping to the floor nervously.

Shouto's chest tightened. The room suddenly felt too small, and he shifted to shield Yaoyorozu from Bakugou's unavoidable outburst at her request, his insides coiling, ready to defend the priestess. When he glanced back at the Spartan Prince, he paused. Bakugou was unusually calm. His red gaze steely as he looked at him.

Shouto's fingers twitched uneasily as the Prince continued to silently assess him. It was unsettling for Bakugou to be so quiet. The Prince was never calm unless the situation really called for it. Shouto wondered if he was missing something. He narrowed his eyes and tried to read the Prince's hard expression, but whatever Bakugou was thinking was carefully masked.

After a moment, Bakugou kicked off from the door and turned away. "Water, clean cloth, needles, and flax," he repeated, without the usual sneer to his tone. "Got it. I'll send someone," he said, sliding out of the doorway and leaving Shouto alone again with the priestess.

Shouto silently exhaled, annoyed at the situation. He'd have to question the Prince later. He turned back towards the priestess, taking his hand off of Endeavor's hilt. He paused and looked down, startled.

He couldn't remember having touched his weapon.

So I was pretty worried about this chapter and still am not sure I love it, but hopefully it turned out okay. It's a little rest after the excitement of the first two.

On to notes:
The war and his past have made Shouto a hardened soldier. He knows anger and hate, but these new emotions that are beginning to stir within his chest are confusing and he has nothing to compare them to. On a basic level he knows Kaminari has done something to him, but he can't figure out what that was. And as his mind reaches for answers the only conclusion he can come to is that he now wants to kiss the Priestess Momo Yaoyorozu. Which, even Shouto recognizes as strange. And he ponders what Kaminari's true motives were. In his inner confusion, he misses the other emotions that should seem out of place for acquaintances. It's not until Bakugou begins to act strangely that Shouto truly begins to suspect that something is wrong.