Yamato couldn't be happier.
The boy, Midoriya Izuku if that card was to be believed, was awake. He was breathing slowly but regularly, mostly through his nose thanks to the bandage, and watching her through wide, curious eyes.
He seemed at ease, which was very good. She had half-expected him to panic, and thrash around or try to escape; only hurting himself more in the process. But he seemed content to lie where he was, and let her take care of him.
She felt…very glad about that. It was as if something had changed, for the better.
"I apologise for stripping you of your clothes," she went on. "I found you on the beach. You were soaking wet and in a very bad shape. I had to take them off to apply the medicines."
An unfortunate necessity. Izuku lay on a tatami mat, his legs in a brace, the rest of his body salved and bandaged. He had been in quite good physical condition, but his injuries had been overwhelming.
All the same, she bowed respectfully, in the way Oden had described in his logbook. It was proper to show respect at all times, and to all persons; especially when she had been forced to commit an impropriety.
"I've got them over here." She pointed to his clothes; which she had carefully folded and arranged. That was another thing Oden had mentioned; being respectful to another's property.
Izuku craned his neck to look, then winced in pain, and laid back down. He seemed satisfied.
"I can't believe someone as young as you has so many injuries," Yamato said. "Oh, oden fought as a child too! But…you don't seem like a samurai."
Indeed he did not. His clothes were wondrous, but unlike anything she had ever seen. And he did not carry a sword.
Did that mean…?
"You must be a pirate then? Or an adventurer?" She beamed at him, delighted at the notion. But Izuku just looked puzzled, and actually managed to shake his head.
She frowned, pouting, as she tried to make sense of it.
"Hmmm... then how did you get onto Onigashima's shore? Curious..."
How indeed? The island was protected by whirlpools; whirlpools that could swallow any ship, and which even the greatest navigators could not evade. The only safe route was guarded by the great Tori gate, and well-manned by her father's minions. Onigashima was as secure a base as any pirate could ask for.
A low grumble disturbed her thoughts. She looked down, and realised it was coming from Izuku's stomach.
"Oh! I'm sure you must be hungry."
She trotted over to her pantry, and took a quick look inside.
"Hmmm... I only have hard edibles... not fitting for a broken jaw."
She glanced at him. He was still watching her.
"I shall fetch you some suitable food!" she declared, smiling. "And some water too!"
Then she paused, as a thought occurred. To get food, she would have to go down to the mess. They would hand over anything she asked for, without question. But what if someone were to come to her room while she was away? What if they saw Izuku?
"But…first things first." She moved a few boxes, then pulled the changing curtain across.
"Now, no one will see you from the doorway," she said. "They won't dare come inside without my say-so."
She squatted down beside him, and laid her hand on his head.
"Don't worry, I won't be long. Stay put and keep quiet, okay?"
She patted his head gently. The boy looked confused, but nodded. Yamato got up, slid on her sandals, and gave Izuku one last smile before slipping through the curtain, through the doors, and out into the corridor; pausing only long enough to grab her kanabo.
Her mind raced as she jogged along the corridor. Midoriya Izuku, neither a samurai, nor a pirate, nor an adventurer. So what was he then? What manner of person could he be?
She wanted to know. In all her life, she had never been quite so curious about a person; especially not one she had literally just met. There was Kozuki Oden, true, but she had known him only by the manner of his death, and the words of his logbook. That was the only Oden she would ever know, and the only Oden she needed to know.
But she did want to know Izuku. She wanted to know who he was, and where he had come from. She wanted to know what his homeland was called, and where it was. Did he come from Wano? Or from somewhere else, far away? Did was his home on the Grand Line, under the sway of the so-called World Government? Or somewhere else entirely?
And what was his homeland like? She wanted to know. She wanted to know about his family, and his friends. She wanted to know about their food, and their stories, and their music. What sort of clothes did they wear? What kind of fighting techniques did they use? Were there great warriors there? And if so, how did they fight?
Of course, she would have to get off the island in order to experience any of it. But that was something she was working on anyway. One thing at a time.
After a few minutes, she finally reached the nearest of the fortress' many mess halls. There was a long queue already, the rank-and-file of the Beast Pirates, waiting for their evening meal. She strode past them, showing them not a moment's consideration, and none of them offering a challenge. They knew who she was, and what she would do if they so much as grumbled.
And they probably knew just what she thought of them.
She reached the side door and pushed it open, the smell of food hitting her full on the face and making her stomach growl. .
"O-Oh! Young Master!" exclaimed one of the cooks; a pufferfish-man of some sort. "Forgive my impertinence, but it is proper to stand in line and…"
"I want food!" Yamato barked, sending the kitchen staff scurrying for cover. She tried to think of something to ask for, something that Izuku could manage with his broken jaw.
"Uh, food?" One of the familiar chefs, a woman with tattoos and piercings replied. "Not just meat and rice this time?"
Porridge? No, it may as well turn into gruel.
Oshiruko? No, that was always popular and running out fast.
She glanced around, following the scent of the bean soup. But the pot was empty, the cowering chef having been cooking up a fresh batch.
She sniffed the air, and marched through the kitchen, the lesser cooks scurrying out of her way. Her nose drew her to a large pot, in which something with a meaty smell was bubbling merrily.
"This!" she declared, pointing at the pot. She cursed inwardly as she tried to remember its name. She had lived in Wano all her life, or so it seemed, yet she knew next to nothing about its food. She only ordered what Oden had described in his travels on the seas! Seafood, meat, and rice with ale and sake!
"Tonjiru Soup, young master? whimpered the pufferfish-man. "That's…new."
"Yes! I want Tonjiru!" Yamato nodded, hands on her hips. "I want a large bowl to go!"
"Ummm, a dish like this is h-hard to carry out y-young master," stammered the one with the piercings. "Are you…?"
She trailed off as Yamato rounded on her with a glare, tapping her kanabo on her shoulder.
"I want one to go. As fast as possible." Lightning crackled on the kanabo. "Got that?"
She had destroyed plenty of kitchens in her time. She had ambushed her father in the upper mess hall by the East Horn, their battle leaving the whole place in ruins. And there was that time in the South Horn, when she had encountered that wretch Ulti and that brother of hers, Page One. Their battle had taken them out onto the roof of the Skull Dome, and had ended in a most satisfactory manner; with that blue-haired cur's face thoroughly smashed in.
"R-Right away Young Master! Quick! Someone get a bowl and cover!"
The cooks began running around like headless chickens. The rank and file feared her, and were always so pathetically desperate to please her. It might have been endearing, if not for what they were, and what they did.
Yamato smirked, crossing her arms over her bust. This would do nicely!
(X)
It took her only a little time to collect the bowl of Tonjiru, and a water skin, and make her way back to her room. Izuku's eyes had been closed, but they fluttered open as she approached.
"There you are," she said, smiling. "Are you familiar with Tonjiru? It's a pork soup."
She knelt down beside the boy, lifting the lid off the pot to let him smell it. She fluffed his pillows to lift up his head a little, then took the spoon the cooks had provided.
The boy took a sniff, and nodded. Yamato's heart leapt. He did know it!
"Well, it was the only soup they seemed to have," she said, laying a napkin over his chest. "I would have liked to get some Oshiruko, but they had none left. It always runs out."
She suddenly felt uncertain. Did Oden ever do something like this? He had mentioned something like it, when his wife was in labor with his children, but his description had been panicked, frenetic even.
Yamato didn't feel that way at all. It felt…peaceful somehow.
She undid his chin bandage, and took a spoonful of soup, blowing on it gently.
"There, if it's too hot, let me know, ok?"
She brought it carefully to his chin. The boy opened his mouth, just enough to let her pour it in. He coughed, some of the soup bubbling out.
"Oh! Was I too fast!? I apologise!"
Yamato frowned, taking a cloth and dapping his chin and lips.
"Go slow... nice and easy," she admonished herself as she grabbed another spoonful. She cupped the back of Izuku's head with her free hand, as she blew on her spoon and brought it to his lips.
He gulped it down perfectly, and the girl nodded.
"Okay... now then, let's continue."
And so it went, spoonful after spoonful. After a little while, she lifted the waterskin to his lips, and let him drink. He drank it down fast, his arms shifting as if to reach for the waterskin.
"Easy there, you were out for several days..." Yamato assured, and Izuku's eyes widened. "Wouldn't want you to choke and gag."
The boy took it to heart, slowing his drinking, until the skin was empty.
As he laid back, she looked him over once again. He had been mighty once, that much was clear. She could see hard, well-developed muscle, and more than a few old scars.
She was wrong. It couldn't have been his first battle. This boy was clearly a veteran, as much so as many of her father's best.
"I can see that you've fought in many battles," she mused; using the sppon to mash down the porkbelly, noodles, and vegetables in the bowl, making a paste he could swallow. "Yet you are not a pirate or adventurer. So then you are…a hero?"
Izuku's eyebrow quirked, and he managed an uh-huh through his broken jaw.
"This fell out of your pocket," she went on, holding up the card she had found on the beach. "Midoriya Izuku. I'm very glad to meet you, but I wonder what this card means by hero?"
Izuku didn't reply. But he did look rather confused, as if he didn't understand the question. Perhaps he did come from a faraway land after all; a land where heroes such as himself were well-known.
Were they the samurai of his country, perhaps?
"I shall give you a herb to help you heal," she said. "But it must be taken with food, like this." She showed him the paste in the bowl.
"Thank…you…" Izuku croaked, wincing as he forced his jaw to move.
"Easy there!" Yamato put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you have many things to tell. But they must wait until that jaw heals. It won't be long."
His eyes softened, and he nodded, seemingly content. Yamato added the herb to the paste, carefully stirred it in, then began spooning it into his mouth.
It was…pleasant to do so. She felt at peace somehow, feeding him like that. She had never done anything like it before.
She shivered. She had never shown it, nor could she remember ever experiencing it. It was not how things were done on Onigashima. It was not the Beast Pirate way.
It was not her father's way. He respected only strength, and loved only power. All his merit lay in victory, and all his desire was for conquest. Honour was hypocrisy, mercy was foolish, and kindness was weakness. To be honourable was to be destroyed, to be merciful was to be betrayed, and to be kind was to be crushed.
And his minions were no better. The bulk of them were no threat; for they knew her power, and feared it too much to challenge her in any way. But what of the All-Stars, or the Flying Six, or the Headliners? They hadn't gotten where they did by fearing anything, or anyone. No one capable of fear could stand near her father for long.
Fear…or compassion.
What chance did Izuku have in this place? What would her father make of him? What would the others do to him?
Perhaps he would be strong. Strong enough to catch her father's eye, and earn a place for himself. Her father respected only strength, and cared nothing for race or creed or heritage; one of his few, ironic virtues.
But then, what would become of his heart? What would this place do to one such as him?
She looked again at Izuku. His eyelids were drooping. He looked about ready to sleep.
"I will protect you," she whispered, laying a hand on his head one last time. "I swear it. I'll protect you from them."
The sleepy eyes regarded her, and then slid shut. Yamato drew a sheet over him, then sat back, watching him sleep.
She would protect him. She knew it, in a way she only felt once before. She would protect him from her father and his pirates, at least until he was strong enough to protect himself.
And that meant taking care of herself, too. No more picking fights with her father, or anyone, until he was healed.
It was what Oden would have done.
It was the least she could do.
What's this? Maternal feelings inside Yamato's heart? But she's the next Oden!
But yeah, it was fun to write and explore this quiet character moments. Yamato knows Izuku is inside a literal lions den, and she is ready to protect him come what may.
Things will get progressing along faster come later chapters. This is all within the first three or so days. We will go along ahead.
Izuku is stuck on Onigashima for now… what do you think he should do when he heals. And considering the company he has to keep to blend in…
At least he has Yamato in his corner.
Let me know what you think. And a big thanks to Juubi as wel. His polish and refinement and writing skill are exemplary!