When Ochako opened her eyes, it took her a moment to recognize she was in the castle, despite already knowing that was the case. The canopy hanging over her bed was bizarre with its lavish design, and the rich, warm colors were such a startling contrast to the cottage she called home.

Every part of her felt like it needed another year of sleep. Her limbs ached, her head throbbed, and her bladder was beyond full. She wasn't entirely sure she could sit up on her own yet, but that didn't stop her from trying. The movement alerted the others in her room that she was awake, and truthfully, Ochako felt a little awkward that she hadn't noticed the two spirits and Izuku's mother over by the window until Inko came rushing over to her.

"Oh, great spirits, you're awake," Inko said in a breathy whisper, hobbling over to the side of the bed Ochako was on. The witch watched her move, although her eyes were drawn to the impression atop the quilts beside her along with the bundled blanket with two cats curled up on it. A sign that Izuku had been sleeping next to her.

She parked that thought for the moment, turning her attention to his mother. Mina had restyled Inko's bun, weaving vines through it along with bright pink flowers. The little sprite beamed at Ochako, holding onto two locks of the older woman's hair like they were reigns. "We've been waiting for you!"

Tsuyu appeared beside them with a splash, and Ochako smiled very slightly at seeing the relief on the spirit's normally blank face. "It is good you are awake, Ochako, ribbit."

"Hey," Ochako croaked, grimacing at how awful her voice sounded. "Bladder first."

Inko nodded, pulling the blankets back. "I'm not too strong, but between Miss Tsuyu and myself–"

Ochako shook her head as Izuku's black extensions came to life, running down her arms. She wrapped one tendril around the far poster of the bed, pulling herself upright, then she threaded the rest down her legs. "Just make… sure no one comes in. L-last thing I need is Katsuki gloating he can piss standing up."

She ignored the way Inko gave her a horrified look at her words and used the magic to support her limbs as she stood up and made her way to the chamberpot.

When she returned to bed, Tsuyu was holding a cup of tea for her and Mina had done her best to pile the pillows for her to rest against. However, the sprite seemed to have trouble getting them to stay stacked, and her solution was to wrap them in a net of vines. Ochako chuckled, slowly easing herself back into bed. "Thank you," she said softly as she gingerly took the teacup out of Tsuyu's hands, using thin tendrils of magic around her fingers to ensure she didn't drop the cup.

She only got half-way through her tea when a portal opened up in her room, causing everyone to turn their attention to it. Knowing what was about to come next, Ochako floated the porcelain to the table beside her bed, letting it land with a small clink. She placed her hands in her lap and waited.

Izuku stepped through the portal, gaze already trained on her as he entered the room. Despite knowing the damage he'd taken during the fight, seeing it in a dreamscape where it was still a projection of himself hadn't fully prepared her for seeing him in person.

He stared at her with his one good eye, wide like he couldn't believe she was real. His mess of hair needed brushing, hanging over his face almost as if to hide the magic wrapped around his missing eye. It wasn't long enough to hide the jagged scar that went down to his chin. The clothes he wore were just a touch too big, but she could still see the black fingers peeking through the sleeve, and the hint of pink and green glowing just underneath.

He looked exhausted, with a dark circle under his visible eye. Despite the loose clothes, she could tell he'd lost weight, and he was paler than he should be.

It made her wonder just how bad she looked.

She offered him a weak smile, and that broke the trance he was in. Like a bolt of lightning, he darted across the room, jumping over her and onto the bed, making the entire mattress jerk with his landing. Inko yelped at the sudden burst of energy, and Mina gasped in delight. "It bounces! The bed bounces!"

She threw herself off of Inko's head, landing on the bed, but her size and weight failed to give her the same results. She sulked, folding her arms over her chest as Inko picked her back up and out of the way, patting her gently on her head.

The moment Izuku landed, he dragged Ochako into his arms, limbs and magic alike wrapping around her as he crushed her to him. She had expected something along the likes of this, so she simply let him pull her into his embrace, feeling him bury his face into her hair as tendrils and arms wrapped around her in a cocoon of warmth and desperate affection.

Gently, she reached up and pressed her hand to his cheek, not surprised to feel the wetness on his skin as he started crying. The tears came first, followed by shaking, then sobs as his emotions came tumbling out. She then felt her own eyes burn in response. Seeing him in person, feeling the warmth of his body, smelling the scent of pine that clung to him, and being surrounded by everything that he was, it hit her with such overwhelming force. She twisted in his arms, clutching the front of his shirt as she tucked her face into his neck and cried with him.

She wasn't sure what their future held together, not with their emotions spiraling faster than she ever thought possible, but she knew right now, in this moment, she wanted nothing more than to never let him go.

XX

After giving everyone the details of what she knew, Melissa had been led away to a guest room to rest, clearly exhausted from the travel and retelling the story of what happened to her.

King Enji stormed off to brood, and everyone felt it was best to leave him alone. The news that his dead son might be working with the Blackened Core had shook him, and no one wanted to potentially deal with his temper as he processed what that meant.

As for Shouto, he wasn't sure what to think, either. He had been eleven when Touya died at the age of nineteen, far too young. The illness that took him was a slow killer. The first signs showed when Toya turned fourteen and slowly progressed until his death five years later. Although Shouto was young, he still remembered a lot of those days. Nothing the healers tried did anything, and his father, worried about rumors and the stability of the Todoroki name, made them swear an oath of silence about his condition. At Enji's insistence, Touya kept his body covered, hiding the lesions and skin discolorations, and generally staying out of public view.

By the time he turned eighteen, he'd lost the feeling in his fingers and toes, and several spots on his limbs. The healers said he was impotent and would never sire an heir, apparently a side effect of the illness that ravaged him. However, the illness didn't take him directly. No, with his loss of sensation, he was prone to injury. And injury meant infection.

Although Shouto had been young at the time, he understood now what went wrong. Had Touya not felt shame about his condition, he probably wouldn't have hidden the burn wounds from his own magic. He would likely still be alive today. But he did, and by the time they knew something was wrong, the infection had ravaged him beyond saving.

He was barely recognizable as he took his last breaths in King Enji's arms, but he still managed to weep and apologize for sullying the Todoroki name.

They cremated his body almost immediately. Enji couldn't bear to look at him. It was done in private, and the explanation given to the people of Yuuei was that a sudden illness claimed him, and no one could have seen it coming. It was a lie, a terrible lie, and at the time, Shouto really hadn't understood just how bad the lie was. Or how it was only the beginning of so much… more.

His mother fell into depression with the death of her eldest, locking herself away in her wing. She stopped showing up to formal events, refusing to even have an audience with her family most nights.

His father grieved. Angered at how the control slipped through his fingers, at how things had not gone the way he felt they should, he began to plan for the future. Touya was dead. Natsuo's magic was disappointing, and as soon as he turned fifteen, he would be sent to the Western Mountains because at least the cold had a place for him there. Fuyumi could not carry on the family name, and her magic was ill-fit in Enji's eyes, and that left…

…Shouto. And a rumor about a girl up in the northwest who could bend nature to her will. A potential… solution for all that had gone wrong in Enji's eyes.

Years later, and what did King Enji Todoroki of Yuuei have to show for his actions? A dead son, a banished one, a shell for a wife, a daughter who hated him, and his youngest to inherit the throne: cursed with impotence, filled with bitterness, and longing for the touch of a man.

Shouto exhaled painfully, pulling out of his thoughts to find his feet had led him to the entrance of the royal crypts. The stairs were pristine and of pale stone, walls lit with torches in ornate alcoves with relief carving. It almost looked… inviting.

He lingered at the top of the stairs. Touya was down there, in an urn of lacquered black with gold trim. Sitting in a niche next to other members of the Todoroki family and their kin.

Right. Touya was down there. How could he be alive and working for the Blackened Core, when his cremains lay beneath the castle, untouched for years?

Shouto sighed, pressing a hand against the stone threshold. Much of his pain and anger lay buried underneath the ashes of his heart. The entire country rested on the backs of a broken family, shattered in fragmented pieces by his father's poor decisions. One might call it generational trauma, for his grandfather had been the same kind of man, and his father before him. Kings who could rule a country, not with kindness or compassion, but with hubris and pride, and without regard for those they hurt to accomplish their goals. Kings who focused on reputation and power, on the family name over the family.

Shouto wondered if any of them felt remorse for their actions. In a way, he knew his father did. That's what made it worst of all. Somewhere, mixed in with every bad decision, every abusive action, every power play and manipulation tactic…

…Was a warped kind of love that his family never wanted, but that Enji freely gave.

Mismatched eyes blurred as tears rolled down pale cheeks, gathering at his chin before dropping to the floor.

How ironic that his magic gave him the ability to heal others but would never be able to close the wounds inside him.

With a shuddered, painful breath, he turned and walked away from the crypt. How he wished he could burn it all to the ground.

XX

Katsuki of House Bakugou was shit with emotions, but he knew when Shouto needed space. As much as it pained him to watch the other man walk off quietly with the most hollow expression on his face, he let it happen.

As much as he wanted to yell at Izuku for the stunt he pulled, he understood why the idiot did what he did.

As much as he wanted to scream at everyone and their mom for everything, he somehow found himself bottling up his rage and stalking towards Ochako's room.

He wouldn't deny that he was relieved she was awake. As much as he wanted to strangle her for her recklessness… she was someone he cared deeply for. He had been worried upon seeing her injuries after battle, just as he was worried about Izuku's mental state.

Izuku… fucking Izuku, with his spirit-like mentality, and his shitty puppy love for Ochako, and goddamn those two were already a pair of messes and he needed to give them both a stern talking to and–

"-you can only wonder what kind of relationship that is, with how… well, uncivilized he is."

"Assuming it's not one-sided. Do you think if she were conscious, she would let him share her bed? He's rather unbecoming."

Katsuki froze, coming to a stop as he listened to the maidservants around the corner.

"Well, I overheard they lived together out in the haunted woods. Likely had their fair share of debauchery. Only a witch would want a man like…that."

"If he's even a man. To think she was to wed our Young Highness… embarrassing, really."

Katsuki saw red.

"I truly don't know why they're both still here–"

Both servants gasped as he rounded the corner, his hands smoldering, sparks popping from his fingertips. "You trashy cunts are so far beneath Ochako that if she pissed on you, it'd be a fucking improvement. If it wasn't for the man you're insulting, you wouldn't even have a kingdom to call home. Those two are the reason you're able to stand here alive and talking shit like your opinion is actually worth more than the dirt you scrub off the floors. And their relationship ain't none of your fucking business, but it's sure as hell better than anything either of you could ever exist in."

"Yeah! You're so unshiny you're like ugly, dull rocks covered in mud!"

Katsuki blinked as Toru manifested beside him, her tiny fists at her side and the wind fluttering around her angrily. Both maidservants shrieked at her sudden appearance, but the spirit continued, unabated. "They're my shiny friends and they deserve good things! Grumpy's right! You're both really gross! And–and…" She paused, then looked at him. "What's a cunt?"

The pillar of anger that Katsuki stood on began to crumble, conquered by the power of a tiny sprite saying the word 'cunt.'

'Oh fuck, Ochako's going to kill me.'

XX

Izuku had no concept of how long it was before he dared to move. Part of him was scared that the fragile reality in his arms might shatter, and he'd find Ochako still unconscious. However, when he finally pulled back to look at her, she shifted, weakly lifting her head so she could gaze up at him. He let his magic wash away, holding her now with just his arms.

Her pale, whitened hair framed her face, oily and in need of washing. Brown irises were flecked pink, giving them a strange mottled appearance. She was so pale, with barely any color in her usual rosy cheeks, and with a shuddered breath, he reached up with his good hand and brushed his fingers over her skin, as if reassuring himself she was real.

"You're awake," he whispered reverently. "I'm so happy you're awake."

She hummed softly, the noise barely audible, and he watched as she lifted her darkened fingers to touch the corner of his mouth. Her voice was a raspy whisper as she replied, "...Then where's your smile?"

He tilted his head slightly into her feather-light touch, treasuring it like he may never receive another. With a deep, heartfelt sigh, he reached up and took her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers ever so gently. Carefully, he pulled her hand down to rest over his heart, where he held it there. "I'm smiling a lot. It's just on the inside."

She looked up at him, her expression soft in a way that left him wanting, but for what he wasn't sure. He just knew he could never tire of what he saw. They stayed like that, and he took pleasure in getting lost in her eyes, seeing his reflection in the speckled surface. It never occurred to him how she was the only person he could do this with, whose gaze he could meet readily, whose gaze he would gladly drown in.

It was only when the door opened did he blink and look away, seeing his mother enter with a tray of food. "I hate to interrupt, sweetie, but you both could stand to eat…"

Izuku nodded, watching as Inko brought the tray over and put it on a table. Before Ochako could try to sit up, he had shifted their positions, leaning back against the headboard and pulling her up against his chest. She huffed softly, but let him do what he wanted, relaxing against him as he cradled her close with one arm. Inko passed a plate of food over to them, letting it rest on the mattress beside them. The contents were simple and not messy. Cured meats and cheeses, along with breads and fresh fruits.

He paused, watching to make sure Ochako could feed herself, then jumped when he felt a spark of her magic pop against his nose. She turned her head slightly, as if to look at him out of the corner of her eye. "Not helpless, silly. Just tired…"

He shrunk in on himself just slightly, feeling a nervous heat touch his face. "S-sorry… I just…"

She shook her head, pinching off a piece of bread. "Never apologize for being kind, Izuku."

He nodded shyly, then looked up at his mother. Inko smiled gently, nodding towards the plate. "Have some food, sweetie. The more you take care of yourself, the better it is for you and Miss Ochako."

Unsurprisingly, his appetite had returned now that his most precious person was awake.

XX

Ochako forced herself to stay awake through the day despite her body loudly protesting. Katsuki came to visit not long after they had finished eating, ruffling her hair as he told her he was glad that she was awake but she looked like an old, greasy hag now.

She felt pretty good about smacking him with a tendril of black and pink magic, especially at the affronted look he gave her, clutching his smarted cheek. "See if I ever worry about your bitch ass again, brat!"

When Ochako asked where Shouto was, Katsuki's expression grew solemn. He explained to her what they learned from Melissa of House Shield. She couldn't imagine what pain that woman had gone through, much less the pain that Shouto must have been reliving. Katsuki excused himself afterward, saying he wanted to find the prince and ensure he was okay.

As much as Ochako wanted to give Shouto space in her mind, she was simply far too exhausted and raw to do more than shed a few tears for him.

Later, when a bath had been drawn for Ochako, Inko had to explain to Izuku why he needed to leave the room. When it was clear he didn't understand, Ochako watched with mild amusement as Inko floundered. She said it wasn't proper, and when he asked why, the poor woman went silent, mouth open as she realized the explanation she had was one that would be lost on her son.

To be fair, Ochako suspected Inko knew Izuku meant no harm, but her own sense of propriety and upbringing was preventing her from addressing this situation objectively.

After a few seconds of Izuku staring at his mother with a confused expression, the woman finally tried a different tactic. "I–I'm sure Miss Ochako would like some privacy."

Izuku frowned at that, glancing over at Ochako. "Do you want me to go?"

Ochako offered him a weak but reassuring smile. "No, I probably could use help getting into the water. Maybe also with washing my hair."

"W-we can get maidservants to do that," Inko offered weakly.

"No!" The tiny voice came through the cracks of the door as Toru passed through and materialized. "They say mean things about my shinies!"

"Do they…?" Ochako replied, watching as the sprite flew over to land in Izuku's hair.

Toru nodded vigorously from her perch. "Even Grumpy was angry! They–they made fun of your connection! In a not fun way!"

"I see," Ochako replied, watching Izuku tilt his head and Inko's face darken. "Well, then, that's more than enough reason to not want them near me. Gossip's not my thing."

When Inko opened her mouth to speak, Ochako held up her hand, cutting her off. "I don't care what they think about us. This is a society that ripped me away from my family, forced me into a life I never wanted, and demanded I conform. I fled to live in the woods for a reason, where I lived happily with moss between my toes, my body free to breathe, and no one to tell me how I should act. I don't care, and neither does Izuku. The relationship we have is not to the taste of many, and quite frankly, those who don't like it can choke on it. We have a world to save, and the opinions of small people just don't matter."

She paused, before adding, "I think you know this, but you're worried about backlash. Don't be. They can't hurt us, not like that."

"Yeah! They're cunts!" Toru chirped from the nest of curls she sat in, and the room went silent. Inko stared at the sprite, mortified, and Ochako sighed painfully.

"Toru, who taught you that word?"

"Grumpy!"

XX

Inko sat quietly in her chair, watching her son gently and carefully pour water over Ochako's head to rinse the soap and oils out of it. This was something she never thought she would witness, and it was an experience that was humbling her in a way she didn't realize she needed. Ochako sat in the basin, knees drawn up to her chest and her eyes closed. Izuku was on his knees on the floor behind her, his shirt removed to keep it from getting wet. He was focused, fingers carefully sliding through wet hair to look for residual soap, and any time he found a bit more, he magically pulled up water with his other hand and rinsed again.

Beside them, Toru danced on the edge of the basin, moving to a song only she knew, but it seemed to consistently alternate tempo.

Ochako was right. Inko knew the society they lived in, and how judgmental it could be. She didn't want either of them to have to suffer through that, and that fear clouded her from seeing that the opinions of high society were so far beyond her son and the witch he loved.

She watched as his affection poured out of him, bright as a midsummer day. It was as pure and unfiltered as ever, shining brilliantly as he picked up the washing cloth and began to lather the soap in it. Quietly, he asked for Ochako's arm, and she gave him a smile that made the emotions in him surge. His face lit up as she held up her hand, and with all the care in the world, he gently cradled her bicep and began to wash her arm. When he got to where her skin started to darken, blackened by the magical overuse, he slowed down, putting aside the cloth to carefully trace her wrists and fingers. Ochako opened her eyes, watching the many expressions on his face. She probably didn't need Inko's abilities to see the pain and sadness there as Izuku inspected her magic-stained skin, and after several seconds of letting the young man wonder over the damage she'd taken, Ochako reached up and cupped his cheek with said hand, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He stared at her with his one good eye, and she gazed back evenly, stroking freckled skin with her thumb. "It's okay."

"Does it hurt?" he asked timidly, as if scared of the answer.

She shook her head, drawing her fingers along his chin before pulling away. "Sensitive. Warm feels warmer. Cool feels cooler. Your touch is more intense. Something that hurts probably would hurt more. But I don't feel pain right now."

He nodded, exhaling as his eye fell closed, only to jump when she willed a soap bubble over to pop against his nose. He stared at her, and she winked. His entire face lit up again, and it made Inko's heart squeeze.

She then focused her gaze on Ochako, feeling the wave of similar, but different emotions hit her. Ochako's love for Izuku was tempered, still wrapped in caution and hesitation. Inko studied the emotions, trying to understand what the woman was afraid of. She didn't seem afraid on the surface. She readily accepted Izuku's affection, and she freely gave her own. They were comfortable around each other, much like, well lovers, although Inko was fairly confident that they had never bed each other.

And yet there was still hesitation. Confusion. Fear, even. The love Ochako had, which was not in any way small, still had those other emotions marbled through it, polluting it and preventing her from embracing it for what it was. Try as she might, Inko couldn't read minds, only emotions, so to get to the answer of what plagued Ochako's heart, she would eventually need to talk to her.

She would, of course. They needed each other. She wanted to help.

A soft splash as Ochako shifted drew Inko out of her thoughts, and she watched as Izuku handed the witch the cloth so she could finish cleaning herself. He sat down on the stool beside the basin, folding his arms over the edge of the wooden tub so he could gaze up at Ochako as she cleaned her face and neck. When she finished, she reached over and tapped his nose with a wet finger, earning a child-like smile in response.

"Can I do anything else?" he asked softly, adoringly.

"Well, I think I'm done cleaning," Ochako replied as she twisted the cloth to free it of excess water. "Want to help me get out?"

He nodded and stood up, a black tendril reaching out for the clean towels on a nearby table. He pulled Ochako out of the water, helping her stand as he wrapped a towel around her, cocooning her as he picked her up out of the basin and helped her stand on the floor. Without removing his arms around her, he used his magic to take another towel and dry off her hair, which got the witch laughing softly. Then finally, he grabbed the clean robe waiting for her and helped Ochako into it, holding it out while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He steadied her as she secured the sash, and then he whisked her up into his arms to carry her back to bed.

And to Inko's fascination, the threads of fear and anxiety wrapping around Ochako's love loosened just a bit as she watched the young witch lean her head against Izuku's shoulder, a tired, but content look on her face.

XX

Katsuki found Shouto in his room, head cradled his hands and elbows propped up on his desk. The prince didn't stir when Katsuki walked in, but given Katsuki was the only person who would come into Shouto's room unannounced, he probably knew who it was.

The captain pursed his lips, walking across the lacquered floors, stopping to stand behind Shouto's chair. Carefully, he pressed his hands on the other man's shoulders. "Hey…"

Shouto grunted, slowly lifting his head up out of his hands. He didn't turn to look at Katsuki, staring blankly into his room. The captain waited several seconds before sighing and letting go of him to walk around in front of his desk. Shouto looked up at him dully, eyes red and puffy from crying. It was about what Katsuki expected, but he sure as hell hated seeing it.

"C'mon," he said, holding out his hands. Shouto's eyes fell to them, but he hung there, not moving or taking the offer. Katsuki sighed before leaning forward and grabbing his hands. "Up."

Shouto obeyed, letting Katsuki pull him up and around the desk, although he fumbled a bit when the captain grunted and pulled him into his arms, hugging him. Shouto inhaled shakily, then the wobbly mask he had came sliding off. He reached up, clinging to the other man as he buried his face into his neck, sobbing quietly.

Katsuki of House Bakugou was bad with emotions. But right now, Shouto no longer needed space. He just needed Katsuki to be there.

XX

Izuku sat on the side of Ochako's bed he had unofficially claimed, legs crossed and still shirtless. They had both eaten another meal, and when the sun set, his mother retired to her room, giving him a kiss on the forehead on her way out and telling him once again she was proud of him.

He didn't know what prompted the statement, but he smiled up at her anyway. Ochako bade her goodnight, too tired to do more than wiggle her fingers in a tiny wave from the mattress.

Tsuyu had reclaimed the bathtub as her own, now sitting by the window and filled with river water. The spirit watched them both from in her little pool, unblinking eyes transfixed on her two favorite humans. She said nothing but didn't need to. Peaceful silence was welcome between them.

Mina and Toru were nowhere to be found, although occasional echoing giggles through the castle grounds promised they weren't too far away.

He was tired, but he was happy. Ochako was awake. She had smiled at him, and somehow the world seemed less bleak. Less painful and less daunting. Her smile for him chased the shadows away, and he felt more energetic than he had since he woke up from the fight.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the witch turned her head to him, tired eyes resting on his face. He stared back, sitting as he was wont to do with his legs crossed and his hands holding his feet. She smiled at him once again, and it was the most amazing thing in the world. Her voice was soft, lacking strength, but he still heard her as she said, "We… should probably sleep."

He nodded, unfolding his legs. She watched as he curled up atop the blankets, dragging the spare one he used for himself over his shoulders. When he realized she was still looking at him, he blinked and looked back, tilting his head the best he could against the mattress.

"Is there a reason you're on top of the blankets?" She asked with amusement.

Izuku paused, thinking about it. He hadn't really given it much thought at first. He had been too tired to really go under them, and then his mother gave him one to cover himself with, and he just kept repeating it. So he shook his head, shrugging one shoulder. "No… no reason."

She nodded, rolling onto her side to better look at him. "Well…if you want, you can stay under them with me."

There was a moment's hesitation, where he thought about what he did want, and then he threw off the spare blanket and crawled under the others to join her. As he burrowed underneath them, he lamented that they lacked the same comfort as the furs and blankets back home. There was no smell of drying herbs. No crackling fire. No wind chimes or birdsong, or the towering bookshelf that loomed over his spot on the floor.

But he had Ochako, and that was good enough.

He paused, realizing he had mentally referred to Ochako's cottage as his home, and he wondered if he was allowed to do that. Part of him wanted to ask, but before he could, he felt slender fingers touch his arm, before sliding down to find his hand. It sent the thoughts scattering from his mind as her fingers curled over his. He sighed softly, cradling her hand ever so gently in his palm.

"Better?" she asked.

He nodded, offering her a tiny smile that probably wasn't visible over the edge of the quilts. "I like knowing you're right here," he whispered, thumb tracing the back of her hand.

She smiled, sending a thread of her magic into his palm, and he sighed at the image of sunflowers that danced behind his eyelids. "I'm always here," she promised.

He nodded again, scooting just a tiny bit closer. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," she replied quietly. "Ready to change scenery?"

He hummed, closing his eyes. "I'll find you in the sunflowers. Good night, Ochako."

"Good night, Izuku."

XX

For the second time that day, Prince Shouto found himself staring down the stairs that led to the vaults. Katsuki stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest.

"This is stupid…" Shouto said, grimacing.

"Is it?" Katsuki scoffed. "You got told a white haired man who has your dead brother's magic is responsible for killing an entire village, and that he's working for the Blackened Core, who fucking has more magic than we can probably comprehend. I'd wanna make sure his urn was still down there. You said you haven't been here in, what, over a year?"

"Yeah…" Shouto sighed. "Just…"

"Are you scared?" Katsuki asked, lifting a brow at him.

Shouto pursed his lips before asking, "And if I am?"

Katsuki shrugged. "Then ask me to go with you, dumbass."

Shouto sighed, giving him a pained look. "I like you better when you're hugging me."

"Yeah, yeah." The captain put a hand on his back and guided him down the stairs, and Shouto wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he just let himself be led. Nothing had really changed since he'd last been in the crypts. The torches were lit with Todoroki fire, ever burning and casting shadows against the relief carvings in the arches and columns. It was cool but dry thanks to the enchantments in place, allowing an ideal condition for preserving remains.

Urns in niches lined the walls, a plaque below each niche to give details of the person the remains once were. Shouto moved quietly past distant relatives and ancestors, eyes trained on his destination.

Touya's urn stood like how he remembered it, the torchlight bouncing off the polished black surface, making the gold lining glint. The plaque was not unlike the others, citing his date of birth, date of death, who his parents were, and what he was remembered for. The last part was painfully bereft of detail.

Shouto sighed, leaning slightly against Katsuki as they stared at the vase that held Touya's ashes. The captain squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You should look."

"It's pretty disrespectful," Shouto replied, unconvinced.

Katsuki shrugged. "So is someone either pretending to be him, or worse, resurrecting him to go murdering people. You'll sleep better if you know the urn's not empty."

Shouto sighed again, and with more reluctance than anything else, he stepped forward, picking up the vase. "Well, it's not empty," he said, half turning to Katsuki. He hesitated, then with a nervous exhale, removed the lid. A flick of his magic made the torches brighter, and he peered inside.

A moment later, the urn hit the floor, shattering.

Katsuki hissed and jumped back, but before he could curse at Shouto, his eyes fell to the floor where broken pieces of glazed ceramic lay amongst a scattered pile of white sand.

Not ashes. Sand.