Midoriya fiddled with the velvet ribbon, the soft fabric plush against his fingertips. It was softer than he expected, and he couldn't resist the draw to toy absently with it as he strode through the crowded streets, shoulder bumping against Iida regularly. Despite still having a full satchel, they were en route back to the shop. Kamiji may have been blase about it, but Midoriya felt an urgency he couldn't shake when the scroll was presented to him, and figured it would be best to get it back right away. That, and the very very full sack of money he had hidden away in his satchel that needed to be dropped off. Carrying a full sack of money through the streets was never a good idea, so he'd been told, and the thought of attracting any more undue attention than he already had made Midoriya nervous. The last thing he needed was to get mugged, after all. He'd already narrowly avoided a kidnapping and was strapped with a security detail. He loathed to think what would happen if such a thing were to befall him.

So, to the shop they went.

It was quiet when Midoriya pulled the door open, the creak of the door echoing in the silence that permeated the space. He shuffled his way inside, gaze flitting to the desk from beneath his fringe. Hadou leaned over Yaoyorozu's shoulder, her long hair falling across her shoulder like a curtain. Stacks of dusty books rose up around them, and their quiet murmurs filled the silence, interrupted only by the slam of the door and the loud thumps of Iida's boots from behind. Both Yaoyorozu and Hadou looked up, then, eyes wide and lips pursed.

"Oh, you're back," Hadou said. She straightened, head tilting to the side. "Everything alright?"

Midoriya cradled the scroll close to his chest and bit his lip. "We-well," he stammered. "I just wanted to drop off the money so far. A-and, um, Kamiji-san gave me this to give to you." He shuffled forward, gaze skirting to the ground as he handed it over. There was rustling, and Midoriya peeked as Hadou pulled the ribbon from the scroll. She unrolled the parchment, brows furrowed as she read the contents. The lines in her brow only deepened, and she lowered the scroll with a hum.

"Well?" Yaoyorozu said from her place at the desk. Hadou rolled the parchment back up, lips pursed.

"The king wants an array of traveling potions and charms, and he seems to want it yesterday."

Yaoyorozu stiffened, brow knitting and lips pursing. "You don't think he plans to go look for it, do you?"

Hadou shrugged. "Hard to say. Though I wouldn't be particularly surprised if this order is anything to go by." She let out a huff, tossing the scroll onto the desk. "Ochako and I just got back from a supply run, and we still don't have everything we need to fill that order."

"What order?"

Nerves buzzed in the depths of Midoriya's gut at the sound of her voice, and his gaze locked in on Uraraka as she appeared from the storeroom, bangs mussed and hair twisted up in a small, messy updo. The very sight of her had his heart thudding all strange, and Midoriya looked away, breath hitching. No, he couldn't just stare. That was weird. Right? Yeah. Weird. So instead, he fixed his stare on the corner of the desk, tracing over the chips in the wood as paper rustled in the background.

"Huh."

"Yeah."

When he looked again, Hadou was leaning on the desk, frown prominent on her lips. "As much as I hate it, this order does need to take priority." She sighed again and dragged a hand through her hair. "We may need to close orders so you and I can make another run. That'll put us behind on filling, though…"

Uraraka tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Well, maybe I should go by myself?"

"Absolutely not."

"But—"

"No, Ochako." Hadou crossed her arms, face stern. "Not with all those rumors running rampant about people disappearing and monsters running loose. Especially now that we know they have some truth to 'em."

"Then I can take Deku-kun with me."

Midoriya's head shot up, eyes going wide. Heat bloomed across his face and he stared, a bit entranced by the defiance he found glowing there. Her chin was raised, loose strands of hair brushing against her even shoulders, fists curled at her sides. That natural blush of hers glowed in the dusty, natural light of the shop and only added to the overall determination that emanated from her. Midoriya felt his heart thump in his chest. She was so... cool. So calm.

Hadou looked from her to him, frown deepening. "I dunno...We kind of need him to deliver…"

"It'll only be for a few days." There was a crinkle of parchment as Uraraka carefully rolled up the scroll, setting it on the desk atop the haphazard pile of spell parchments and order slips. "We run up to the Potaru Mountains, pick up what herbs we're short on, and be back in three day's time. I literally just went through our stock yesterday, so I know what we need."

"I could write up a notice requesting customers pick up their orders here, if it's urgent," Yaoyorozu murmured, hand cradling her cheek. "Deku can spread those around the city this afternoon…"

Hadou sighed. "Alright, alright, fine. But I expect you both back here in one piece, okay?"

Uraraka's gaze found Midoriya's, soft and warm and leaving him dizzy, and huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Hadou-san, you act like I've never done a supply run before."

Hadou's expression twitched, the seriousness cracking and crumpling, and she laughed. "Oh, believe me, I remember your first supply run. You came back with a broken broom and a black eye, apparently having run into a tree of all things…"

"H-hey!" Uraraka squeaked, hands flying up to her quickly reddening face. "You said you'd never bring that up again—"

Laughter filled the shop as Hadou and Yaoyorozu dissolved into a fit, and the atmosphere shifted to something calmer, brighter. Uraraka waved her arms about, explanations spilling rapidly from her lips, which seemed to only make Hadou and Yaoyorozu laugh harder. Iida leaned close to Midoriya and spoke for the first time since they arrived. "I don't believe I understand what is so funny," he murmured. Midoriya just shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. He didn't really get it, either, but. It was nice, seeing them laugh, again.

~#~#~#~

Wind tugged at his hair, coming its wild fingers through his curls and tangling them however it pleased. It stung at his face and pulled on his clothes, leaving him chilled and shivering. Flying, as it turned out, wasn't any easier the second go around. Midoriya still felt woefully dizzy any time he dared glance down at the tiny forest below, gripping Uraraka tighter.

They'd been in the air since before dawn broke across the sky. The day prior had been filled with frantically delivering orders and notices, and packing just enough to take to the mountains. Needless to say, Midoriya felt exhausted, eyelids heavy and limbs twitching with a lingering ache, and he was sure it would only worsen as the journey continued. He buried his chin in the cloak he wore, the soft smell of herbs tickling his nose. Uraraka had lent it to him. Because of course she had. She'd mercilessly pushed the worn, old cloth into his arms in a bundle before they left, insisting he wear it because it would be chilly.

And she wasn't wrong. As awkward as it was, sitting so close, he was grateful for the solid warmth of her back and the old cloak fastened around his throat, helping to keep the chill of the wind at bay as they raced towards their destination.

The Potaru mountains were settled to the east of Endeavor city, so Midoriya was told. Not nearly as big and towering as the mountains he called home; these ones were older, thought to be older than time itself. Apparently, wild plants grew in abundance, there, and Uraraka said that they made the trek regularly. Primarily, they were looking for a plant called Indian Tobacco, which Uraraka said helps with acute pain in large doses. Perfect for one of the potions the King ordered.

Midoriya risked a glance down. Tree tops blurred beneath him in a mosaic of greens, swaying in the breeze like scrub along the cliffsides of his childhood. He gulped, dizzy, and shifted his gaze back to the clouds drifting above and around them. Wisps reached for his face, his cloak, like fingers of a ghost, leaving behind a heavy and damp dew imprint with every touch. Midoriya shivered, the chill soaking into his skin.

"You okay?" Uraraka called. She peered at him from over her shoulder, wisps of hair streaming back, free in the wind. Midoriya shrank into himself, chin tucking against his chest and further into the old fabric of his cloak. He felt heat blossom across his nose and cheeks.

"Y-yeah," he said with a croak. "I-it's just cold, up here!"

"Sorry! Hang on a little longer, we'll stop soon!"

And stop they did. Within the hour, Uraraka nosed the broom down, down, down, trees racing up towards them, growing larger and larger as they dropped from the realm of the clouds back down to the solid ground below. Midoriya couldn't help the relieved breath that eased from his lips when his boots touched dirt again. He hobbled off the broom, legs wobbly and aching, and teetered in place. Thank the gods.

Uraraka untied their packs from the back-end of the broom, letting them fall to the ground in a heap. Two packs, one full of food, one lined with blankets and a third that was carefully rolled and tucked inside, ready to be filled with fresh herbs. She reached for the floating broom and grasped it, muttering, "Mortem," and the broom rattled and shook and shrank, shifting back into its form as a staff, the pink orb glowing in the fading light. Midoriya couldn't help but watch with wide eyes, mouth ajar in awe. He'd seen it only a handful of times, and yet, it still amazed him.

The breeze that rattled overhead boughs and tugged relentlessly at his hair stilled as Uraraka's magic waned. Sounds of the forest picked up and birdsong echoed through the trees. Midoriya rolled his head, stretching his neck, and let his gaze flicker from the gnarled bark of the trees that towered overhead to the long shadows that patterned the ground of the clearing they'd landed in.

"Well, we definitely covered a lot of ground, today," Uraraka said. She stooped and picked up their fallen packs, slinging one over a shoulder and offering the other to Midoriya. He took it from her with pursed lips.

"We have?"

"Yes. We've entered the forest that borders the valley at the foot of the mountains." Uraraka sighed. "Hopefully we can make it to the mountains before sunhigh, tomorrow, or Hadou will have my head."

Midoriya grimaced. Yeah that uh, was not a pleasant thought.

"Oh well. Let's just find a place to set up camp for the night!"

They trekked through the woods, side by side. It was quiet, here. Peaceful. A contentment swelled against the inside of his ribcage so fast, Midoriya felt almost breathless. He let his head tip back, eyes sliding shut as he breathed the crisp, cool air of the forest. It had been too long since he smelled the freshness of the wood. His eyes blinked open, sunlight bright as it pierced through the canopy with beams of gold. A swell of homesickness battered at his heart, and Izuku felt a knot thicken in his throat.

It had been too long indeed.

Uraraka led them to a throng of trees, clear of undergrowth, where they could shelter. Already, an old log sat on the earth, bark worn and smoothed, as if by campers before them. Uraraka dropped her pack with a resolute hum, head jerking in a satisfied nod as she surveyed the space. "This should do." She looked to Midoriya, then, those ochre eyes of hers soft. "Wanna dig a shallow pit and set up our bedrolls? I can fetch some firewood."

"O-okay."

She smiled. "I'll be back in a sec!" Uraraka turned, skirts swishing, only to pause, hesitating. She whirled back around, lips pulled in a frown, and marched up to him. Her free hand darted for his shoulder, tugging him forward, and she tapped his forehead with the cool, glittering orb of her staff. "Tutum manere," she murmured. The orb glowed, bright, and warmth spread through Midoriya's body. He gasped, heart jolting in his chest. Uraraka practically leaped back, face aglow. She whirled around without a word and darted into the woods, leaving Midoriya standing there, mouth ajar.

What...what was that?

He reached up, hand twitching, and grazed his forehead with his fingers, the memory of the orb's warmth against his skin lingering, like the warmth of firelight during a winter night. His heart thundered in his chest as the mystic words rang like a bell in his ears. Tutum manere. Midoriya knew not what they meant. What he did know, though, was that he felt...safe. As though an angel stood at his side.

He shook himself and set about setting up their camp, trying not to let his thoughts linger on Uraraka's soft words and gentle touch.

~#~#~#~

The Potaru Mountains rose from the earth below in smooth, gentle swells of earth, round and laden with lush trees. Midoriya gazed down at them with furrowed brows and pursed lips. They...certainly were smaller than the mountains he called home, that much was certain. His mountains were like jagged teeth rearing up to the sky. Impenetrable, imposing, their contrast with these gentle giants rising from the earth was jarring. Midoriya almost wanted to ask how these could possibly be mountains, but they grew taller as they flew, much too tall to be hills. So, mountains they were.

Except these mountains were blanketed by a thick, deep forest that shaded the forest floor in cool colors, hardly any light at all slipping through the canopy. Landing was difficult because of it— Uraraka had attempted to blow a hole big enough for them to slip through, but it didn't exactly...work...as intended. Limbs that bent down snapped right back up and Midoriya was sure that they both were left with more scratches and bruises because of it.

"Sorry," Uraraka said, once they were on the ground. "You okay?"

He sat up from the ground, dazed, blinking as his gaze worked to focus on Uraraka's blurry visage. "Ye-yeah," he croaked. "I think so." He reached up, hand cradling his forehead, and squinted. His gaze slid from Uraraka to the cool shadows of the forest and stayed there, tracing over still undergrowth and gnarled roots that pressed in around them. It was...quiet, here, almost too quiet. Something prickled at his skin, and he jerked his focus back to Uraraka and her warm gaze. "Sorry," he blurted, face going warm. Uraraka just huffed a laugh and offered a hand.

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the one that nearly got us skewered by tree branches."

Midoriya had to bite his tongue to keep from apologizing again. Instead, he took her hand and let her yank him back onto his unsteady feet. He staggered in place, finding his balance again, and murmured a quiet thanks. Uraraka just reached up and plucked a twig from his hair, smile rueful. "Don't mention it."

The two of them spent a minute just...collecting themselves, after their eventful landing. Midoriya straightened his askew cloak, dusted leaves and twigs and dirt from his personage. Uraraka did the same, smoothing wrinkles from her skirts and blowing her rumpled bangs from her face and running her fingers down the length of her staff, presumably checking it for damage. She gave a satisfied hum, and Midoriya presumed that meant the staff was still in one piece. A blessing, since otherwise they would most definitely not make it home in time otherwise.

"Okay." Uraraka's voice cut through the quiet, yanking Midoriya's focus to her. Determination cut across her features, those ochre eyes of hers smoldering with it. "Usually, Hadou-san and I split up, and meet at Tamashi Point, up there." She pointed north, but the tree cover was too thick to see. "There's a waterfall, there. If you go that way—" Uraraka nodded her head in front of them, into the expanse of shaded wood. "—you'll find the river and can follow it upstream. Think you can do that?"

And, oh. Midoriya's eyes went wide, and he looked from her to the shaded forest that stretched beyond. Tall, tightly packed trees that blocked his view, watching, waiting. The back of his neck prickled, sweat tingling at his palms, and his breath hitched as his mind conjured up faded memories of glowing, bulbous eyes and sharp, fanged teeth. A shiver rolled down his spine, and Midoriya shook his head to disrupt the horrific memory. "U-um," he stammered. "By myself?"

"If it's too much, we can stick together," she said, voice soft. "I know this is all new and stuff."

Midoriya frowned. The idea of splitting up had his insides twisting something awful. It didn't make much sense— he knew how to navigate a landscape, and if Uraraka said there was a river due south, well...he trusted her. Implicitly. But that didn't stop the fear curling its way around his lungs, his chest, his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a breath. Okay, okay, think. They only had so much time...and the more herbs they could find, the better. Realistically, Uraraka's suggestion was logical. She knew this area better than he did, too. So directing him towards the river, an easy landmark, also made sense. So despite the way his skin prickled, he nodded.

"Yeah, okay. Le-let's split up."

Uraraka beamed. "Great! We'll meet at the point by sunfall, then." She hesitated, brow notching, and stepped closer. "Um, Deku?" An uncertainty colored her tone, a question brewing in her eyes. Midoriya stiffened, heart nearly leaping to his throat. His gaze flickered to the staff in her hands, noting the way she clutched it close, orb glittering in the low light, and an inkling of understanding lit into him. He jerked his head in a shallow nod. Uraraka was in his space in an instant, reaching up to tap the orb on his forehead just like before, the very same phrase falling from her lips. Once again it glowed, and that sharp warmth bolted through him. And then it was over, and she stepped back, leaving him to blink the spots from his vision. She smiled that dazzling smile of hers that had him nearly going cross-eyed.

"I'll seeya soon."

And with that, he was left alone.

The eerie quiet surrounded him like a wall, pressing in on all sides. Midoriya could feel the way his heart thundered in his chest, breath, catching in his throat. He crept forward, fingers tingling as he gripped the pack slung over his shoulders. Even his footsteps were quiet, hardly making a sound as his boots sunk into the thick bed of leaves and decaying plant material. He scanned the underbrush, looking for any recognizable leaves or flowers, ears perked and straining for sound, any sound.

But none came.

It was just...him. Alone.

Not even a breeze whispered through the understory. Everything was still, too still, only moving when Midoriya pushed his way through. He'd only been alone for minutes, and yet, it felt like ages of him trekking beneath the boughs of giants that seemed to watch his every movement. Midoriya bit his lip. His gaze skirted up, finding the few pinpricks of light that glow like stars amidst the dark outlines of leaves blotting overhead. If he stared long enough, maybe he'd find constellations made of sunlight. But such patterns would not lead him anywhere, in this place— he was alone, with only his senses to guide him. Only, those senses felt woefully unreliable.

Midoriya let out a breath. The sound felt loud, like a shout, or an explosion. He trembled in his boots and squeezed his eyes shut, willing his racing pulse to calm. Gods, he was a mess. Perhaps he had been away from nature for too long- home, after all, was constant noise. Shouts and laughter and music and hoofsteps on cobblestone. Noise was the quiet. True quiet did not exist in a city, and Midoriya remembered how it took weeks for him to adjust.

And yet.

And yet, even still, he couldn't shake the unease that lingered in the shadow of every step. In fact, the quiet was so pervasive, that when he stumbled on the river, it was almost as if he tripped his way through some invisible barrier. Suddenly, shadows grew lighter, and water, like music, sang in his ears. Tension dropped from his shoulders like a leaden weight as Midoriya staggered to the riverbank, relief like sweet honey on his tongue. Thank the gods, he wasn't lost.

Light poured down from the heavens onto the smooth flowing river, making it appear as though it were glowing from beneath the thick cover of the forest. It wasn't very wide— perhaps two person-lengths across— but the gap in the trees was enough for light to flood into the space like a beacon, gleaming and glistening across the mossy bank and rocks that jutted up from the depths of the river. Midoriya had to squint just to see. Even still, he felt his breath trip in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the light, the picturesque view settling in his vision. It was pretty, here, peaceful. He felt more at ease, calmed by the musical gurgle of the water as it rushed past. Midoriya let his gaze sweep across the grasses sprouting along the bank, eyes going wide at a familiar flower dotting the space. Small, white flowers, with bright yellow centers, like the sun.

One of the herbs they needed.

He stooped and carefully plucked some until he had a whole bouquet, and then he kneeled and pulled some rolled cheese cloth to wrap the bundle in securely, before tucking it back into his back, careful to not crush the flowers. They were important, after all.

It was easy going, after that. Midoriya followed the river as it wound its way through the forest, stepping lightly over stones and keeping his gaze sharp for any familiar herbs. While he was no expert like Uraraka was, in his time at Winds Apothecary, Midoriya had picked up a little bit on plants. It helped that Uraraka sat him down before leaving and poured over some diagrams over the easy to identify herbs prior to their trip.

So he at least could do something other than just set up camp.

Midoriya heard the waterfall before he saw it. At first it was soft, muted, trembling in the air and rumbling the ground underfoot. And then it grew louder, and louder, echoing in Midoriya's ears like the roar of a monster. He gripped the straps of his pack, heart pounding to the beat of the roar in the air, and he turned a bend and stopped, eyes going wide.

Woah.

It was...stunning. Water like a white curtain cut into the mountainside, spilling down into the river with a ferocity that Midoriya could feel in the depths of his chest. Mist billowed from the base of the waterfall, streaks of rainbows glittering amidst the clouds like jewels in beds of white satin. The river was wide, there, too, swelling into a large, rippling pool. The banks sloped up to grassy knolls, blanketed by the sun all the way up to the treeline.

Relief swelled in his chest, and Midoriya breathed in the dewy air, at ease. It was easy to see why Uraraka and Hadou liked to camp here— it was like a slice of paradise amidst the strange, eerie forest. Midoriya picked his way around the riverbank, making his way closer to the foot of the waterfall to wait for Uraraka. He stopped at an outcropping a hundred yards or so from the falls, settling on the dewy, mossy rock. The air was cool here, damp from the falls. But Midoriya found that he didn't particularly mind. He let his pack slide off his shoulders and rifled for a strip of jerky, that he tore a chunk from with his teeth and chewed, gaze falling to the churning river down below.

It looked deep, swirling hues of blues and greens, with shadows of rocks rippling under the surface. Midoriya grimaced and took another bite of his jerky. That didn't look to be a very fun fall to make. He shuffled back a little on his rock, biting his lip hard enough for it to sting. Yeah, perhaps he should, er. Keep back some.

Just in case.

Not that he didn't have experience with dizzying heights— he very much did. Midoriya remembered many a sheep drive with his back to a cliff, shuffling along precariously behind his flock as they traversed up to secure fields away from predators. But he supposed that it was usually less...slippery...those times.

Midoriya sighed, hugging his knees to his chest. He wondered how the sheep were, back at home. Was Inui taking care of them? That was a silly question, he knew; of course Inui was caring for the sheep. But...Midoriya thought of the ewes that loved treats like apple slices, the lambs and their penchant for headbutting Midoriya and bleeting pathetically for scratches behind their ears, the old lamb ewe that almost always got pebbles stuck between the toes of her hooves. Details and things Midoriya paid attention to thanks to all the time spent with the sheep that...no one else noticed. An ache throbbed deep in his chest, and Midoriya curled tighter.

He hoped someone was taking care of them in the way they deserved in his absence…

"You made it!"

Uraraka's voice bounced through the clearing, just barely louder than the roar of the waterfall, and Midoriya whipped around, foot sliding out from under him on the slippery moss and tearing a yelp from his throat. He clutched at his rock with wide eyes, gaze finding Uraraka where she bounded from the treeline into the clearing, cloak fluttering behind her and smile warm in the afternoon sun. Midoriya scrambled off his seat and waved awkwardly.

"I can't believe you beat me here," she laughed. Midoriya's face heated, and he shrugged.

"I...I just kept walking until I found water…"

She let out another laugh, the sound musical and bright. "That's one way to do it." Uraraka plucked his pack off the ground and offered it to him, inclining her head. "C'mon, let me show ya' where we usually set up camp."

Camp, it turned out, was situated a little ways away from the falls itself, tucked up along the cliff face. They could still see the river from their little spot, but it was quieter, here, with the falls just a gentle rumble. There were already logs situated just so around a shallow pit in the ground that served perfectly for a fire. All they really had to do was unroll their bedrolls and scratch together dinner— fish from the river and some biscuits they'd packed for the journey, alongside some sweet cider.

They ate as the sun sank below the peaks of the mountains and darkness blanketed the forest, leaving behind a blanket of stars that spread across the skies overhead. Uraraka shared some of her own spoils— bundles of herbs that Midoriya had completely missed, all rolled carefully up in the old cheesecloth and packed tightly into her pack. He stared at it all slack jawed. How had she found so many? He'd only managed one bundle, and even then that was more dumb luck than anything!

"Don't be too hard on yourself," she said. "It takes practice to be able to parse the different plants out." A laugh spilled past her lips, and she sipped at the cider from their wineskin, eyes twinkling in the firelight. "Even Hadou and I make mistakes, sometimes. Like, last year, she tried picking up what she thought was...oh what was it…" She trailed off, brows knit. "I can't remember what she thought it was, exactly. But it ended up being a variant of poison ivy, and she broke out something horrible. Had to wear itch salves for the next two weeks." Uraraka snickered, shaking her head. And Midoriya couldn't help but join her, giggles spilling out from behind his hand.

It was nice. Sitting here, in the firelight. Uraraka spoke until the moon glowed bright overhead, weaving tales of her adventures with Hadou and Yaoyorozu throughout these mountains. Like, the time she stumbled on a rare flower that they used to develop a new potion, or the time Yaoyorozu accidentally angered a bear, and they got chased for a mile before they managed to ditch it. Midoriya found himself laughing so hard his ribs ached and his cheeks hurt, warm despite the evening chill that lay heavy in the air.

"...the time this guy tried to tell me how to make a simple good luck charm, as if I didn't even know." Uraraka huffed and tilted her head back, glaring up at the stars. "Worse yet, he was wrong, but insisted he was right. Y'know, like a jerk." She waved her hands, firelight dancing across her pink fingertips. "'Course, it blew up in his face. Which was pretty funny. Ya' shoulda' seen it, Deku—"

Goosebumps rose on the back of his neck, sudden and all at once. A chill ran through him and his breath caught in his throat, eyes going wide. Something wasn't right. His gaze darted to the darkness beyond their sphere of light, but only the shadows of the night stared back at him, yielding no answers. Midoriya's hands curled into fists, heartbeat roaring in his ears. He almost didn't realize Uraraka had stopped talking, until his gaze flit back to her and caught the sight of her own terrified, wide-eyed stare. But she wasn't looking at him.

She was looking behind him.

Midoriya's head turned, slow, halting. His heart stopped in his chest.

No.

No, not again, not here.

A low, throaty growl rumbled in the air, accompanied by bulbous, glowing eyes.

And the next one! ;) Thanks for reading!

-Kat