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There aren’t any stars out.
The quiet huffs of Izuku’s horse die as he gently guides it towards the stables, tugging patiently on the end of the reigns. It stops in its tracks, and the silence stretches, encompassing the world. Not a sound can be heard- not the chirping nor fluttering of any critter or creature, not even any distant howls or hoots from the nearby woods. Only his shallow breathing exists to break the silence. In that moment, Izuku feels small. The crushing weight of his responsibilities presses into his back, reminding him of the tedious journey ahead, the thousands of footsteps that separate him and his friends from the completion of their quest. It isn’t worrying, per se- more so looming. He feels a prickle of shame in his heart at the realization that part of him wishes he were staying here a bit longer.
So much light and fire magic in this kingdom.. And yet, I still can’t see the stars. Could the amount of light emitted by everyone’s magical practice correlate with this in anyway? Usually, the more barren and reserved the area, the more vividly you can see the stars. But that’s not always the case, is it? Yuuei’s pretty packed, but you can see the stars well- brilliantly, even, on some nights. Then again, magic is practiced in moderation there, meanwhile it appears there aren’t any set restrictions in King En-
“Lost in thought again?”
Izuku nearly leaps a foot into the air. While he doesn’t, he still violently startles and tugs on the reigns a bit too hard in the process- his horse whines in protest, and he subconsciously makes a note to offer her apologetic cubes of sugar later. This exaggerated reaction draws a muffled laugh from Kirishima, who is attempting to hide his guilty grin behind the palm of his hand. Some tension seeps out of Izuku’s shoulders, and he draws in a breath.
“Kirishima. I didn’t know you were up.” Izuku’s cheeks color in embarrassment. He didn’t realize he was speaking out loud.
“Sorry,” Izuku’s red-haired companion apologizes sincerely. “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go check the stables. Why are you up?”
Ah- it is not too surprising that Kirishima is up, in hindsight. Izuku has to struggle to remember a time he’s seen him sleeping.
“I, uh, I was thinking. About how much longer we have to go.” Thoughtfully, Izuku brings a hand to his chin. “I mean- I’m prepared for it. I have to be. And I’m not worried about having to face it alone- I have you guys, after all. I’m not scared, I’m not second guessing, I’m just..”
“…Anxious?” Kirshima guesses. Now that he is closer, Izuku can clearly see the dark circles under his eyes, contrasting with the brightness of his encouraging smile. Kirishima holds up the lantern to his eyes. There’s a moment of silence, and then he says, “Dude, you have so many freckles.”
That gets a laugh out of Izuku. Any remnants of unease immediately abandon his form like water slipping through cupped hands, leaving him feeling light and at ease. Izuku appreciates Kirishima for that enchanting effect he has- the infectious easy going nature he carries, hauling it with him through starless, sleepless nights.
“Well, yes.. To both of those statements. It’s.. kind of lonely. But not because I don’t appreciate everyone’s help and company- things would be so much harder without all of us working together. I’m lucky to have such an amazing group working towards the same cause as I am..” Izuku pauses, tries to capture his words in the right frame, fix them so they embody the emotions he wishes to convey. “It’s just so unpredictable. We can’t stay in one place long enough to get a grasp- can’t leave fast enough to guarantee we aren’t missing something.”
Kirishima scratches the back of his head, eyes wide and thoughtful. “Huh. You’ve thought about this a lot. Honestly, I’ve just kind of been going with the flow at this point.” He draws back his hand and instead uses it to pat the coat of Izuku’s horse, humming thoughtfully. “I mean, whatever comes will come, right? The five of us can totally kick its ambiguous ass.”
Izuku isn’t sure Kirishima’s carefree resignation to fate is something he can adopt, but he finds himself feeling better regardless.
“Yeah,” he says, and things feel good- the soft glow of Kirishima’s lantern making the outside of the stables twice as luminous as it had been with just Izuku’s; his reassuring words hung in the air, coupled with the horse’s soft neighs of approval. He can’t help but smile, chest warm and weighted with the reminder of companionship.
Izuku casts one last look at the empty, dark dome that stretches above the kingdom. He wonders if Shouto’s ever seen stars at their brightest- they’re probably visible here on better nights, even if their numbers were scarce. But when he thinks of the cold, wide desserts between the borders of Yuuei and Duolon and the wondrous patterns that the numerous constellations paint across their skies, brilliant and breathtaking and surreal, a kind of magic in its own right.. It just isn’t the same. It can’t be.
He turns his eyes away from the vacant sky.
Izuku says his good nights to Kirishima, well aware he wouldn’t be retiring for the night anytime soon. He retreats to his chambers.
“Once you cross the borders into King Enji’s kingdom, forfeit any hope for kindness.” That’s what they told Izuku the day he was planning to set off into the threshold of the land that promised grandeur. “No kindness”, they insisted. Like disloyal pets, devotion of the masses is bought by prestige and promises of more luxury and extravagance. He who lived like a lord fancied the life of a king; and he who lived like a king sought to live like God. There is no limit to ambition. The instinct here is to surpass. To overcome. To leave the opposition crumbling in the dust as you reach for the sun.
Izuku heaves a sigh as he double checks the straps of his travel bag. He thinks of the residents that stay near the outskirts, risking the consequences of illegal hunting to survive another day. He thinks of children whose guardians are courtiers, breaking their necks for a side glance from the King, crushing their companions beneath their jewel-studded boots in an effort to earn his acknowledgement, his praise.
Izuku quietly surveys the emerald brooch he clipped to his cloak earlier- a kind gift in a place where kindness wasn’t meant to exist. Something in him stirs. He thinks of Shouto, the brilliant robes of red that hung from his shoulders, the circlet of entwined gold and silver on his head. How he often looks like he’s bearing the weight of the entire world, how sad his eyes looked. Misery like that… it shouldn’t belong on a royal with such property, but Izuku knows that neither Shouto’s status nor wealth have any impact on his happiness. Izuku remembers the fleeting glimmer of it, crossing his features like a ray of sunlight illuminating a lone meteorite, drifting with feigned aim in the vacancy of space. It was a brief moment, a meaningless instant in the deepening abyss of the past. But much like the brooch pinned close to his heart…
It clings to Izuku’s chest gently, allowing warmth to seep into his chest.
A voice calls from the doorway.
“Midoriya- are you okay?” Momo’s voice jolts him into the present, nearly making him drop his bags. Once more, he turns red. Caught drifting in his thoughts yet again.
Momo’s face bears a patient smile. He knows she must be used to this, but Izuku also knows she’s incredibly efficient and well-organized. They are scheduled to leave soon, after all. God knows where he and the rest of them would be if Momo wasn’t there to keep them all in line. He smiles in turn, the warmth in his chest growing- imagining the journey without his companions is almost tedious.
“Ah, yes. I’m sorry. I’m all packed and ready to go, I just..” he pauses. “And you can call me Izuku! We’ve been through so much the past few months- it’s only fair to say we’re there yet, right?”
“Oh, right.” Momo’s smile grows hesitantly, accented by a flush that nearly matches his. She abandons the doorway and crosses the marble floors to meet him, he notices that she hauls her rather large and heavy-looking travel bags with her with ease. Huh, she must have been prepared for a long time. The thought only further fuels his embarrassment, hasn’t meant to keep her, or the others waiting.
“I just wanted to check on your progress. Kirishima and Iida are already in the gardens. I’ve alerted them beforehand.”
“That’s great- and Tsu?”
At this, Momo frowns lightly, brows creasing. She heaves a quiet sigh. “Delivering an extended version of our thanks for the royal family’s generosity.”
The temperature seems to drop.
“Ah.”
“In basic words,” Momo replies, agreeing with Izuku’s unvoiced sentiment. “It feels almost wrong, to leave here with so much still left to sort out.”
“I feel the same.” Izuku admits, shoulders slumping. He stares up at the chandelier in his guest room before his eyes flit to the linen sheets draped over the feather mattress of his bed. It was eerily comfortable and soft, but Izuku hasn’t had a single peaceful night of sleep in it. “I know this was only supposed to be a stop to gather resources and maybe stay under the radar for a few days. Part of me thinks, we should be grateful for the court’s protection, but..”
“But we’re leaving, and he’ll still be here.” Momo completes for him. She doesn’t look pained. She won’t let herself be. But Izuku knows. It’s not easy, to reunite with a childhood friend, to have mere glimpses of a worrying secret he might be holding, and then to wind up having to get up and trek your way further, burying him in the recent past.
It isn’t fair of him to feel this way.
Momo’s acting so wonderfully responsible- so collected, so composed, despite how conflicted she must feel. But Izuku’s mind is full of starless skies and soft sheets and crystal chandeliers. Thoughts of golden thrones embed themselves into his mind; the false laughter of courtiers refuses to fade from his ears, and neither does the vision of all their hands, heavy with jewels and accessories and trinkets that scream ”I am wealthy, I am courteous” as they clink. All reaching for the King, a mirage of prestige on a throne of lies coated in gold. And then there’s Shouto. Prince Shouto, and the way the sadness lingers in his eyes,
”Izuku,” Momo speaks gently, but Izuku still can’t forget. He can’t stop. His hand reaches towards the emerald brooch, and he remembers words. He remembers the quiet brush of fingers against his. He remembers, Please keeps this, I thought it fitting for someone like you.
“Izuku,” Momo says again, and Izuku remembers hesitant words, a stutter that he hadn’t been expecting- the prince’s eyes looking away in brief contemplation, and then, “In truth, this gift may not be entirely selfless. When you see it..I hope you think of me.”
“Sorry.” Izuku apologizes. “Tsuyu must be done by now, huh?” He gives her a smile. Izuku’s hand falls away, and he forces his eyes away from the brooch. “Let’s get going. I’d hate to keep everyone waiting any longer.”
As an act of courteousness, they’re offered carriages. Momo’s planned for this occasion, and very politely refuses the offer. Staying here as long as they did was a calculated risk, and their best bet now is to disappear and keep a low profile. It’s preferable that no one knows where they’re headed or why.
And as per tradition, Prince Natsuo is out by the palace gates to bid them farewell. Shouto is nowhere in sight. Izuku’s beginning to worry that he might not get the chance to say goodbye after all- the banquet held in their honor the previous night pretty much guaranteed that they wouldn’t be able to see each other. Shouto was required to stay at the table near his father and offer a speech of sorts. Izuku wouldn’t know. He and Tsuyu had excused themselves from the festivities to go over their travel route once more. Momo had been required to stay, seeing as she was the reason they were welcomed so cordially. Ejirou and Tenya stayed with her as well to appease King Enji. Formalities and whatnot.
Packing didn’t necessarily take long, but Izuku spent most of the morning worrying and contemplating their next relocation. He hasn’t had time to seek Shouto out.
Natsuo’s warm wishes nearly turn into a blur in his head- there’s a cold feeling of panic that’s filling him, piling in his chest with quickly formulating dread.
“Izuku!” Izuku’s head snaps towards Momo. Her face is calm as ever, but there’s a misplaced apologetic look on it that he doesn’t quite understand.
“You’re thinking again, aren’t you?” she asks, but doesn’t sound accusatory in the least. An apology is halfway to his lips, but she stops him short by adding, “The gardens.” She speaks with measured emphasis, her eyes trained on him. “You might have left your maps there. I think you should go look for them.”
For a flat second, he’s confused. The sordid dread in his chest gives way to genuine confusion- he was certain his maps were still neatly and safely folded in his bags, and-
Oh.
Oh.
“I could send in someone to get it for you, Midoriya.” Natsuo offers kindly, ever helpful.
"Ah, no. Thank you, Your Highness, but.. the palace gardens are rather large.” He speaks quickly, heart thundering in his chest. Izuku quickly bows his head. It takes all of his self-control not to sprint. “It’ll be quicker if I just hurry and get them myself.”
“Oh,” Natsuo says, tilting his head to the side. He smiles brightly, but Izuku’s heart and head are both racing far too quickly to appreciate the radiance of it.
As he leaves his friends at the golden gates, he spies Momo hiding a smile behind her hand.
Izuku finds Shouto sitting on the silver seat beneath Marakago tree. Its vermilion leaves sway in the calm breeze of the morning. Truly a spectacular tree- he’s been told its native only to King Enji’s kingdom, a giant thing that’s meant to represent the shift of seasons from spring to summer.
An audible thump is heard as Izuku crashes beside Shouto. He’s panting, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. He’s seated now, but his heart hasn’t stopped racing.
Shouto’s eyes meet Izuku’s. For all his panting, he loses his breath in that moment. There are a million things he could be looking at in the Todoroki’s garden- an array of stunning flowers the likes of which he won’t find anywhere else. Golden arches dotted with roses and flowers he can’t name; coordinated plots of land with magnificent trees rising from brown earth in a burst of spectacular color.
And yet Izuku knows that of all the marvelous things in the Endeavoran Gardens, Shouto will always be the first thing his eyes land on.
Shouto’s eyes flit to the brooch on the winded traveller’s chest, pinned with utmost care. His lips twitch upwards in an almost-smile. There it is again, that purity; the rare ray of sunlight that illuminates his features. Izuku’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. Their eyes meet again, and they hold their gazes longer this time.
Izuku hand reaches for the brooch at his chest. He can’t think of how to start this- of how to properly convey everything he’s feeling when a thousand words want to burst out from within his chest all in one instant. His fingers press gently against the emerald stones on the silver pin. He doesn’t know how he could possibly say goodbye. It’s all too much; the way Shouto’s hair sways in the wind, in sync with the leaves of the Marakago. His eyes pierce through him, steady and firm, contemplative, and yet he knows that he, too, is thinking of words to say.
So Izuku says, “I’ll think of you.”
Shouto’s eyebrows rise. “Midoriya.”
“I’ll think of you,” he interrupts again, his heart’s erratic beating nearly drowning his words. Your Highness, he meant to say. He swallows.
“We’re leaving now, and I… I can’t expect you to come with me. I mean, you still have a lot of responsibilities and personal issues you need to sort through. You’re one of the most competent people I’ve had the honor to meet- you have so much to do, and I know you can do it, and of course, I’ll worry, of course I’ll wonder if you’re okay, but I know I can’t ask you to leave, and I know I can’t be asked to stay either when so much is at stake and so much-“
“Midoriya,” Shouto says again, but Izuku can’t stop now.
Recklessly, he rambles, forgetting to pepper in titles for respect. The world melts away. They aren’t a prince and traveler- it’s just him, and Shouto, and falling leaves of vermilion that find themselves in his hair. Trembling voice and shaking hands and persistence , and
Oh.
His words are interrupted; quieted by the press of something soft against his mouth. He can hear the pounding of his heart against his chest, just as he can feel the world melting around them.
Izuku is dazed when they pull back. Shouto says,
“We’ll meet again.”
His hand reaches for Izuku’s own, and he seems to study his face for any signs of discontentment. But Izuku smiles , he beams like he never has before. How could he not?
The prince presses the back of Izuku’s hand to his own chest. Izuku stills, flushing even redder. Though the other appears acutely composed, he can feel that Shouto’s heart is beating just as fast as his. Silence reigns. Izuku focuses on nothing but Shouto’s heart, beating at a steady pace. And then his hand is drawn back from the Prince’s chest, and a pair of lips ghosts the back of it in a kiss that makes his breath stop.
For the second time, he thinks, Oh.
And it’s strange. He’s a prince, and Izuku is anything but. They’re both caught up in something bigger than themselves- something they have to resolve. And yet, there’s the guilty pleasure of indulgence in stolen moments like these.
Shouto squeezes his hand, then lets go. Izuku presses his fingers against his lips.
“We’ll meet again,” he says, repeating the words Shouto’s said to him. It feels like a promise. “We’ll meet again, and I won’t forget. I will always think of you.”
“A bold promise.” says Shouto, but he’s doing it again. That brilliant half smile of his.
Izuku thought it impossible to smile wider- to feel happier, yet both happen. “One I’m bold enough to keep.”