Midoriya was entranced. He leaned from his place on the rickety wooden stool, watching Uraraka move about the tiny kitchen with practiced grace. A massive pot sat on the wood burning stove, steam rising steadily from it. Herbs of all sorts were stacked onto the table, and perched precariously amidst the madness, was a massive book that sat open and proud. Uraraka hummed to herself as her gaze trailed across its worn pages, hair falling into her face like a curtain.

She was making potions. The type of potion varied from order to order. According to Uraraka, people would order just about anything. Potions to slow aging, which she'd giggled suspiciously about, love potions, potions to heal various ailments. A piece of parchment was tacked to the cabinets above the stove, with a list of the potions or charms that needed making. Midoriya had given it a glance but couldn't actually make heads or tails out of the loopy, inked scratches. Not that it mattered, as he wasn't the one making the potions. Though, he was helping, a bit.

"Hmm, just add a pinch of rosemary…" Uraraka whirled around, sprinkling something into the pot, unfamiliar words falling from her lips and crashing in Midoriya's ears. A shiver ran up his spine. He watched with wide eyes as the potion lit up in a purple hue, puffs of steam bursting into the air. Whoa. Uraraka, however, was unphased by the change. She stirred the concoction, brows furrowed in concentration. His gaze flickered to her, and he chewed his lip. Warmth filled his chest. She looked so pretty like that, focused as she was. Embarrassment was quick to fill his stomach and quell the butterflies that fluttered there, and Midoriya looked away. Instead, he listened to the strange words that fell from Uraraka's lips, like an ancient song. The hue of the potion shifted from purple to blue, then to green, and at last, Uraraka set down the wooden spoon, grinning. "Finally!"

Midoriya blinked. "Is it done?"

"Yep!" Uraraka set to trimming the flame, hair bobbing as she worked. "Cool, right?"

He nodded, sliding off his stool to peer into the pot. Whatever the potion was, it looked thick, like porridge his neighbor always made, except it glowed a bright green. "Why is it...glowing?" he asked. Uraraka shrugged, snorting a bit.

"No idea, actually. It's a prank potion; it's supposed to make someone fall asleep for like twenty minutes. But that doesn't really have much to do with the glowing, I don't think." She scrunched up her nose, head tilting in thought. "I guess that's a question for Hadou."

It was precisely that moment that Hadou deigned to poke her head up into the living space and startle them both. "'Chako! You done with that potion yet?"

They both let out an undignified yelp, and Midoriya stumbled back into the countertop in his attempt to whirl around. He was met with the sight of Hadou poking up from the hatch, leaning on her arms and looking at them with raised brows. A flush rose to his cheeks, and Midoriya looked away. Uraraka cleared her throat. "Was that necessary?" she quipped, eyes narrowed. Hadou snickered.

"Yes, yes it was."

A light breeze tickled at Midoriya's skin and rustled his clothes. He snuck a glance at Uraraka, who had an annoyed pout painting her features. "You're insane," she muttered. "And yes, for your information, it's done. Just cooling, now."

Hadou hummed. "Good. Mister Mera will be here to pick that up shortly." She didn't wait for a response, disappearing back down into the shop. Uraraka ran a hand through her hair and breathed a sigh. She dropped her glare to the book spread out onto the table. It softened, and she reached out and closed it with a resolute 'thwump'.

"Hadou is too much sometimes," Uraraka muttered. Midoriya snorted. That was one way to put it. He climbed back onto his stool, watching with interest as Uraraka peered back at the potion. It still glowed, though not quite as brightly as before. She seemed pleased, though, brows raising and eyes lighting up a bit. "Hmm. Hey, Deku?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you do me a favor and grab a clean vial? There should be one down in the shop by the counter."

"Yeah, sure," he said. Midoriya hopped off his stool, gaze lingering on Uraraka as she bent over the potion. Her hair framed her face just so, her eyes were bright and focused… He gulped, face hot, and turned away abruptly. Midoriya practically tripped as he scurried to the ladder and descended it.

The storage room, though musty and packed with order upon order, was warm. Cozy, almost. He leaned his forehead against a rung on the ladder and sighed, trying to calm his erratic heart. Gods, he really needed to pull himself together. This was embarrassing. He sucked in a breath. And another. Midoriya pushed away from the ladder and strode into the shop.

It was a slow day. No patrons lingered amidst the shelves; all Midoriya could see was Hadou leaning against the counter, chatting with Yaoyorozu. He fiddled with the hem of his sleeve as he drew near. "U-um, Hadou-san? Y-Yaoyorozu-san?"

Both gazes landed on him, and Midoriya couldn't help but fidget under the scrutiny. He opened his mouth to ask about the vial, but before he could, a loud rapping rang out through the shop. Hadou turned to Yaoyorozu, brows raised. "Were you expecting any guests or clients today?"

Yaoyorozu shook her head, seemingly baffled. "No, I wasn't. And Mister Mera wasn't due for another hour." She set her quill pen down and sighed. "I wonder who it could be?"

Hadou shrugged. She turned and flounced to the door, tossing it open and leaning against the doorframe. "Hadou the wind witch at your service," she chirped. Yaoyorozu rolled her eyes, and Midoriya had to bite back a snicker. Trust Hadou-san to answer the door so cheekily, he thought.

A young voice trickled in. "The King is requesting an audience with you, Miss Hadou-san."

Midoriya's brows furrowed. The king? He crept closer, eyes going wide as he peered over Hadou's shoulder. Standing in their stoop, was the same kid that had ran into him the day prior. Like yesterday, he was dressed sharply; pressed trousers and a brightly colored vest, that golden insignia blazing in the sunlight. In his extended hands was a scroll, much like the one he'd dropped in the streets. Their gazes locked, and the kid's eyes went wide with fury. Fortunately, Hadou chose then to snatch the scroll, drawing the kid's attention away from Midoriya. She unrolled it and scanned the contents, humming thoughtfully. "Thank you," she said. "You may tell the king we shall be there shortly." Hadou then thrust the scroll back at the kid and unceremoniously slammed the door shut. She turned, brows raised as her gaze landed on Midoriya, and sighed.

"Do me a favor? Go tell Ochako to get ready." She paused, lips pursing in a frown. "And to grab the King's order. Might as well drop it off when we get there…"

He nodded stiffly, Hadou's words swirling around in his head. So many questions crowded against his lips, but they felt trapped on his tongue.

Back at home, they didn't have a king. There was a council of sorts, headed by the elders of their village and the higher ups of the Guild. Captain Bakugou and all her feral glory was probably the closest they had to royalty. And in his own village, having an audience with the captain of the Guild was an honor of the highest degree. Was it the same, then, with a king? He thought so. So then, why was the king calling for Hadou? Did she know the king? He didn't get that impression. Perhaps it was naive to think, but Midoriya imagined that there'd be more...glamour involved with knowing the king. Right?

The musty smell of the storage closet tickled his nose. Midoriya frowned as he reached for the ladder, the worn wood slipping against his palms. Then again, he supposed he didn't know Hadou that well at all. He'd lived here what, a handful of days? Sure, she'd saved him from the forest, but that wasn't reason to assume things about the quirky witch. He was still lost in his thoughts as he pulled himself up into the livingspace, hardly even noticing Uraraka's gaze landing on him.

"Did you get me the vial?"

Midoriya blinked. "Oh, um, no...sorry." He clamoured to his feet. Uraraka hovered over the potion, brows furrowed as she looked at him over her shoulder. Midoriya fidgeted under the scrutiny. He looked at the open book settled on the table instead, the worn pages fluttering slightly under a gentle breeze. "Someone came to the door. A-apparently you're being summoned. By, uh, the king." Midoriya peeked at Uraraka then. There was a frown on her lips, and something clouding in her eyes. She brushed her hands on her skirts and sighed.

"Of course we are," she muttered. Uraraka waved a hand, and a gust burst forth, sending pages of the spellbook flying. It shut, then, though some of the herbs were sent flying across the room, too. She didn't seem to care too much, instead striding towards him and dropping down the ladder. Midoriya was left alone, gawking.

Huh.

He shrugged to himself and padded to the kitchen, bending down to clean up the fallen herbs. Midoriya hummed as he organized the dried plants into little piles. Many of them were brittle, threatening to crumble at the slightest touch. Plus, there were a mix of smells; some bitter, some sweet, and some very pungent. He wrinkled his nose, sweeping the broken leaf fragments into his hand so he could dispose of the waste.

"Deku!"

Midoriya jumped, arms flailing, and whirled around. Uraraka peered up at him from the trapdoor, eyes crinkled and light. "Aren't you coming?" she said. He blinked.

"You...you want me to come?"

Uraraka nodded, earnest. "Yes, silly, now come on!" She disappeared from view, leaving Midoriya staring after her. They...wanted him to come? He had to take a minute to really process that information, the gears in his mind stuttering as they whirred to life, absorbing what had just taken place. After a solid second of rebooting, his mind caught up, and Midoriya was practically tripping over himself in his haste.

~#~#~#~

The castle was massive.

Midoriya had seen it, obviously, when they first arrived at the city, but now witnessing it up close as they crossed the moat and passed through the first gate? It was massive. Red sandstone brick, stacked with precision, creating arches and pillars and patterns aplenty. He craned his neck to gaze up at the battlements, gawking. They rose so high, it was as if they were touching the sky itself.

They were ushered through quickly, led by a few guards sporting spears and swords. Midoriya recognized one; the guy from the outskirts of the city, with the glasses- Iida, was it? He only looked at Midoriya once, lips drawn in a thin line, and Midoriya had decidedly kept his gaze fixed on his feet. His boots scuffed against the vivid green grass, leaving smears against the old leather, and he could feel the comforting thump of the delivery satchel as it thumped against his hip. He held onto the strap with both hands, using it like an anchor.

Ahead, Uraraka and Hadou walked with heads ducked close, murmuring to each other. They spoke in low tones, and Midoriya could only catch the barest of snippets. He stepped a bit lighter, drawing ever so slightly closer.

"...could be?"

"I don't know...rumors could be true…"

"Do you really think there's monsters-?"

"Shush, no, I…"

"...destroyed a town…"

"...Champion? He's been gone for…"

Midoriya's brows scrunched. The pieces of murmurings he heard made little sense, and he didn't bother drawing closer, instead choosing to scan the grounds instead. Trimmed hedges lined the main path, and Midoriya could see a clearing to his left where soldiers trained. A group milled about, watching a pair wrestle in the dirt. To his right, looked to be a massive stables. Stable Hands scurried to and fro, carrying buckets or saddles, or just leaning against the wooden entryway. A few horses were picketed outside, grazing under the warm sun. Their coats were slick and shone brightly; his hand twitched with the want to pet the gentle giants. But their group was ushered on under the shadow of the castle's arch. Massive wooden doors creaked as they swung open, revealing a foyer grander than anything Midoriya had ever seen in his entire life. He was almost afraid to step inside.

The floors were white, made of some sort of stone, and polished so brightly, Midoriya could see his reflection as clear as though he was staring into a pool in a stream. Pillars, wide and tall, lured Midoriya's gaze to follow them up, up, and up to the vaulted ceiling, where chandeliers glittered with hundreds of flickering candles. He wondered faintly how they managed to light those candles from so far away. Some sort of rigging, perhaps? His attention was drawn away, flitting to the plush rugs underfoot, and the many statues lining the foyer, or even the giant paintings hung on the walls. Midoriya could only stare. There was just...so much space. He was used to small, cozy. Wooden walls and a fire pit. Not...this.

Midoriya had to resist the urge to pinch himself. And this was only the grand foyer.

"Miss Hadou-san, Miss Uraraka-san." A man stood at attention, brightly colored hair slicked back and dressed in pressed trousers and a deep, crimson vest with a familiar golden insignia stitched into it- the same insignia the boy wore. He bowed then, at the waist. "Please, follow me." He turned on his heel and led them deeper into the hall, footsteps muted by the long, maroon rug that ran from the doorway up to a massive staircase. Uraraka and Hadou followed without a word, and Midoriya stumbled on after them, wide-eyed and gawking. The first leg of the staircase led to another set of massive, polished, oaken doors, with one smaller set of stairs leading upwards to the left and to the right. Smaller chandeliers provided a little sneak peak to wide hallways and more vaulted ceilings, but their guide led them forward, throwing open the doors and striding inside.

And oh, gods. Logically, Midoriya knew things could be grander, but he still felt as though his eyes were bugging out of his sockets as he took in the hall they now stood in. The same white, polished floors shone in the ambient light here, reflections of a matching, glowing chandelier hanging overhead dotting the space. Massive pillars arose on either side, making the hall feel long, dominating. Between each pillar stood a knight, decked out in full, silver armor, polished and glowing in the flickering light. They held long spears, tips glittering with a deadly familiarity, and Midoriya shrunk and stepped closer to Hadou and Uraraka. His gaze skirted ahead, breath lodging in his throat.

There, rising from the floor, was the throne. Carved meticulously, feet like that of clawed fenrirs, shining the brightest of golds, and pointed, delicate spikes, like rays of a sun, rising out of the back. Seated in the throne like he belonged sat a man that commanded obedience with his mere presence. He was massive, easily four heads taller than himself, with wide shoulders and dressed in a tunic stitched in reds and golds, a cape of velvet clasped around his neck with a clasp of a familiar design- the same insignia stitched onto the steward and squire. Deep shadows cut across his features, contrasting the golden highlights flickering across his skin. There were basins roaring with flame resting on either side of the throne, throwing chaotic light across the room. Above the throne, a blank wall was cast in shadow, a strange sight in such a grand space.

The king stared them down, gaze icy, cold, calculating, and familiar in a way that had Midoriya trembling. He looked to his feet as they slowed their approach, shrinking even more under the heavy scrutiny.

"His Majesty, the King, I present to you the wind witches of the south, Miss Hadou-san and Miss Uraraka-san, and their entourage."

Midoriya peeked up in time to see Houda and Uraraka give a deep curtsey, and he squeezed his eyes shut and bowed stiffly.

"Hadou-san. I hear business flourishes for you." The king's voice boomed through the expansive space, every bit as deep and commanding as the rest of him. Midoriya swallowed a lump in his throat, gaze fixed on the shine of his polished shoes.

"It is. Thank you," Hadou said, clipped and curt. She stood ramrod straight, shoulders set and chin high, her long hair brushing against her lower back. "To what pleasure do I owe this summons?"

One red brow arched, frown deepening in the lines across the king's face. "You speak as though we don't have business together."

Hadou snorted, and the gentlest of breezes swirled through the room, rustling at Midoriya's tunic, hair, and making the firelight waver ever so slightly. "Oh, I'm well aware we do. Usually, though, you don't ask for personal delivery."

His Majesty, the King, scoffed at that. He leaned back, brows raised, combing a hand through his short, flame colored beard. "Are you suggesting you came without thinking to bring my order?" There was a dangerous edge, there, sizzling in the space between them. Hadou dipped into another curtsey, shallower and less showy than the prior.

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing." She looked to Midoriya, then, tilting her head to beckon him forward. The king's gaze descended on him, then, and Midoriya found that he was quaking in his boots. He shuffled forward, gaze locked onto the plush rug underfoot and hands gripping the strap of his satchel so tightly they were numb. Midoriya fumbled with the flap, reaching in to grasp the burlap wrapped vial. He pulled it out and presented it with a bow, afraid to meet that frigid gaze.

"You may rise."

Midoriya shot upright, grip tight on the vial as he shuffled back. Heat blossomed across his face, but the king's attention was no longer fixed on him. Instead, he sighed and rested an elbow on his armrest, sparing a bored glance at the steward who'd led them through the foyer. "Fetch Kamiji."

The steward bowed at the waist and hurried off.

"I take it you ran into no trouble on your restocking expenditure?"

Hadou blinked, brows furrowing. "It went without a hitch," she said, slow, careful. "I'm flattered you care enough to track our expenditures."

His Majesty, the King chuckled dryly. "I track all expenditures in my kingdom." He leaned forward, hands clasping and clothes rustling. "It's my business to know how trade is running after all. You've heard of the monster attacks, I presume?"

Hadou sighed. "We've heard rumors, yes. But I figured it was hearsay." She shrugged. "You know how rumors abound, in these parts."

He hummed. "Yes, well. Whole caravans have been ravaged by these so-called monsters, their survivors all spouting the same tales. Beasts taller than buildings, dark colors, matching the night, and eyes that glow like hellfire."

Midoriya's blood ran cold. Vivid images of glittering teeth and glowing, vacant eyes filled his thoughts, and he felt his legs quake beneath him. His heart pounded and pounded, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Part of Midoriya hoped that night was nothing more than a strange nightmare- it almost felt like it, now, a whole lifetime away. He could feel Uraraka's warm gaze settle on him, brittle with worry, but he couldn't do more than focus on breathing and the firelight dancing across the rug under his feet.

"At this point, I have to consider the legitimacy of the claims. So, pardon me for the intrusive questions. You understand I have to look out for the safety of my kingdom, yes?" His Majesty, the King's gaze glittered like ice in the sunlight, and Midoriya couldn't suppress the shudder if he tried. And try he did.

Hadou bowed her head and dipped into another curtsey. "Of course. I hope His Majesty, the King, can accept my sincerest apologies, I spoke rashly."

"It can be overlooked."

The room grew heady, hot. The air was stifled, here, nary a wisp of a breeze. Midoriya felt as though he couldn't breathe, so stiff and humid it was. Hadou's eyes flashed like lightning, expression dark and stormy. She said nothing, though, waiting instead for the king to speak.

It was then that the click of heavy doors echoed in the hall. Midoriya couldn't help but glance over his shoulder. A woman strode towards them, long, red and gold skirts rustling. She held her head high, golden hair piled in a messy knot atop her head, warm eyes glittering. She paused some way back, curtseying deep and low. "His Majesty, the King," she said. "You summoned me?"

"Our order from Winds Apothecary has arrived. Take the boy with you and file it away."

The woman- Kamiji, presumably- curtseyed again, and shifted her focus to Midoriya. "Follow me," she said. She whirled around and strode back towards the doors, leaving Midoriya to stumble after her.

They exited the throne room with little fanfare, the echo of the doors clicking shut reverberating in Midoriya's ears. Kamiji steered right, skirts swish-swishing as she marched right up the next flight of stairs, not once missing a beat. She didn't wait for Midoriya either, and he had to jog to catch up, vial still clutched tightly in his hands. He hadn't put it back, and now he was stuck carrying it as he jogged because there was no way he could put it away and keep up- after his short audience with the king, Midoriya had no intentions on breaking or ruining his order.

The hallway was wide, that same cut of plush rug running down the length of it. There were arches upon arches, arched doorways, vaulted ceilings- the architecture had Midoriya wide-eyed. Tapestries hung on the walls, depicting sceneries that Midoriya didn't have time to decipher. Statues carved out of gleaming crystal rose up from the floor, of faces Midoriya couldn't see. Kamiji's pace didn't leave much time for musing, as much as he'd love to. She led him past doorway after doorway, turning and turning, once, twice, three times. Through a door and down a more rickety stairwell, smaller, narrower. Another door- smaller, less decorative, and suddenly, the castle was alive.

Where once were massive, empty, and decorative hallways was now a tiny, narrow one, with people bustling to and fro. Women, with skirts matching Kamiji's, scurrying about, arms loaded with linens, or mops and buckets. Boys, as young as the boy from the streets to barely younger than himself dodged around the women, carrying scrolls, or trays piled high with food or dirty plates. Midoriya clutched the vial to his chest and stuck to Kamiji like glue, eyes wide.

They had entered the servant's quarters.

"Kamiji-san! Have you seen the bedchamber linens?"

"No, of course she hasn't, she's been busy, ya coal chip." A rosy cheeked maiden bustled past, brown curls bouncing as she shook her head. "They're down in the wash- something ya'd know if ya were payin' attention."

Kamiji laughed, loud and boisterous, throwing her head back and whirling around, skirts twirling, "Lose yer brain again, Baka?"

More laughter arose from those hurrying about, echoing in the smaller space. Baka huffed, throwing her hands up in an unfamiliar gesture that had Kamiji snickering more. She repeated the gesture back and whirled back around without even breaking stride. The confident set of her shoulders and the ease in which she shouted greetings and quips to passerbys was not lost on Midoriya. He was awed, somewhat, how she weaved and dodged with effortless grace. He, meanwhile, was not quite so lucky, nearly running into or tripping over someone with almost every step.

How Midoriya managed to keep ahold of the vial was a mystery to him.

Towards the end of the bustling hallway, Kamiji veered right, not even waiting as she flung open the door and strode inside. Midoriya, in an effort to follow, rammed right into a pair of maidens burned with a basket of clothing. A yelp flew past his lips, and he stumbled back, nearly losing his footing. The maidens weren't quite so lucky- their basket flew to the floor, clothes spilling everywhere. One of the girls even fell, blinking as though shocked that such a thing could happen. Oh, oh gods, he was such an idiot. Midoriya fumbled to stuff the vial back into the satchel, before lurching forward to help fix the mess.

"O-o-oh, I'm so-sorry! Are you alright?" He extended a hesitant hand, worrying his lip as the girl peered up at him. She blew a loose curl from her face and eyed his hand.

"You not know how to watch where y'er going?" she grumbled, ignoring his extended hand to shift onto her knees, reaching for the overturned basket. Midoriya shrunk back, face burning. The other maiden snorted, hand on her hips and lips downturned into a frown.

"Clearly not."

Midoriya was left to watch as the two women set to work cleaning up the mess he'd caused. He...he should help, right? This was his fault to begin with. If he had been a little faster, he'd have dodged and not caused such a mess...and these poor women were just trying to do their jobs and he'd interrupted that. Like a dunce. Midoriya chewed his lip. They didn't seem to care for his help either way, but it felt wrong to just leave. So, he shuffled forward and knelt down, quietly plucking some of the fallen trousers and blouses and tunics off the floor and placing them into the big basket.

It took a minute for the three of them to clear the mess, and Midoriya handed over the last blouse with a quiet, "Here." He clamored to his feet and bowed, face still heated. "And sorry again." Midoriya dashed around the ladies then, bounding to the door Kamiji disappeared behind and reached for its worn door knob. The metal was cool in his grasp, and the hinges creaked as he pushed his way through.

Soft light filtered in through a small sliver of a window, high up on the far wall, accompanied by oil lamps flickering from their fixtures on the walls. The room itself was fairly small compared to everything else in the castle- perhaps as big as the living space back at the apothecary shop. A massive oaken table took up the center of the room, piled high with a variety of dishware and glasses and other strange things Midoriya didn't recognize. To his left were floor to ceiling shelves, with jars and vials and sprigs of plants alike, lined all nice and neatly. Kamiji leaned against the shelves inspecting her nails, barely sparing Midoriya a glance as he tiptoed his way inside.

"Thought ya' got lost out there," she said. Midoriya fiddled with his satchel strap and frowned.

"Sorry."

Kamiji sighed, offering a one shoulder shrug. "Whatever, kid. Bring the potion on over, and I'll take it off yer hands."

His brows pinched. "I-is there some sort of payment?"

Another sigh, and Kamiji rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Yer payment is given once we confirm the order."

Oh. That made sense, he supposed. Midoriya shuffled forward, gaze flitting about. A narrow tapestry of reds and scarlets hung on his right, golden stitching of the king's insignia practically glowing in the firelight. Midoriya wasn't entirely sure of the design- it appeared to be a bird of some sort, feathers ablaze. A phoenix, perhaps?

In his musing, Midoriya didn't notice the crease in the rug. He went to step, only for his boot to catch and his whole body lurch forward. A yelp sprung past his lips, and his arms flew out to the sides as he attempted to catch his balance. He was dangerously close to falling spectacularly on his face, but a firm grip latched onto his arm, and steadied him. Midoriya blinked, sheepish as he blinked up at Kamiji's bemused stare.

"Ya alright there, kid?"

He nodded. "Ya-yeah."

She released him once he was steady and chuckled. "Suppose I coulda' warned ya. Floor's a little uneven- the new rug doesn't entirely fit and we didn't have the heart to cut it down ta size."

Midoriya's gaze dropped to the rug. It was thinner than the one outside, and definitely not a solid red. It...was a picture? He took a step back. He could make out strong, masculine hands, wrapped firmly around what looked to be a hilt of a sword. The table obscured most of the woven picture, but Midoriya could make out wide set shoulders dressed in a flowing red cape. He tilted his head. "I-is that...the king?"

Kamiji snorted. "Nah, he wishes. 'Tis the Champion, 'fore he disappeared."

At this, Midoriya perked up. Champion… He glanced at the makeshift rug again. Despite the creases and dusty footprints, and a few spots worn almost threadbare, it was a stunning thing. A midnight blue backdrop, with what appeared to be stars, woven in such a way they seemed to glow. Though, they didn't fill the whole night sky- Midoriya could only see two from his vantage point. One beside the Champion's shoulder, and one a few inches closer to Kamiji. If he leaned, he could see a third, though the table sort of obstructed his view. His gaze, though, was drawn once again to the pommel and sword- silver and gold threads woven together just so- it appeared to gleam in the low light.

"It used to hang in the throne room," Kamiji said, then. "When the Champion vanished, King Enji insisted we take it down." Her features pinched, shadows flickering in her expression. "He wanted us to burn it but...that felt wrong."

Midoriya stared down at the hands clasped around the sword hilt, brow furrowed. Kamiji's words rang in his ears, echoing with that hollow note of melancholy that had his heart twinging in his chest. Whoever the Champion was, he seemed...important. Missed.

So why did he vanish?

"So, now we've got a new rug." Kamiji grinned, though it was dimmed, somehow. "Anyways, lemme get that potion filed away so we can get yer funds to ya."

Yes, right, the vial. Midoriya fumbled with his satchel, flipping it open and fishing out the vial. He handed it to Kamiji, who inspected it with a critical eye. She tapped at the cork seal, untied the burlap and examined the contents, swishing it around a bit, and even scanned over the parchment bundled beneath the burlap. After what felt to be eons of nervously watching her inspect his friends' handiwork, Kamiji nodded to herself and set it on the table with care. "Looks just right." She reached into her blouse and pulled out a rope necklace, with a key tied to it. Kamiji tugged it off and knelt down, reaching under the table. She pulled out a heavy, oaken chest, with an old iron padlock on its front, keyhole matching the key Kamiji held in her hand. She jammed the key and twisted, and the padlock opened with a distinct click. Midoriya watched her rummage for something. Kamiji closed the chest after a moment and straightened, a bulging sack clutched in her hand. "Here."

It was a sack of coins. Full of coins, actually- it jingled when she set it in his outstretched palm, and Midoriya nearly gasped at the unsuspected weight. He wondered how much it was. It certainly felt like a lot- it was more than the patrons in the city gave Uraraka, possibly twice as much. Though, to be fair, he had no idea what the values were. They didn't use this sort of currency at his old village. Trade was far more common. An even exchange of goods; wool for meat, meat for supplies or clothes, jewelry for tools, or whatever else. The coins seemed a bit like an unnecessary middle step to Midoriya. But, this was how things ran, here in the city. So he took the coin sack and dropped it into his satchel, ensuring it was properly fastened.

Kamiji took the vial and turned to the wall of shelves, placing it amidst a row of identical ones. "There. Let's getcha to the main foyer, eh?" she said, shooting him a wry grin. Midoriya just fiddled with his satchel strap and hummed. He supposed it would be impolite to interrupt the summons in the throne room. Hopefully they were nearly done…

He followed Kamiji out the door and into the hallway, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the former tapestry on the floor, the image of the sword's intricately woven pommel reflecting in his mind's eye.

So I totally forgot to post this here... Whoopsies XD But it's here now! So enjoy!

-Kat