Work Text:
It is a worn, campos journal. There is evident water damage, and the pages are almost frozen shut. Most of it is full of random doodles and ideas, but towards the end the passages begin to fill with writing. The writing is neat, and tidy, seeming to be made with a pencil.
Day 1
The mountains look beautiful from here. We’re currently within a few hundred miles of them, and even from here they tower up into the sky and sparkle from the snow at the peaks.
It’s quite breathtaking.
We’ll be there in a few hours. Then all we have to do is set up camp, and get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow’s hike. I hope it’ll be relaxing, after all, that’s the whole point of us going here. To take a break from our jobs and get some natural air into our lungs.
If nothing else, it will be some quality time together. We barely get any of that these days. I can’t blame Izuku, though. Being a pro does entail your life getting pretty.. busy.
And this will be the perfect time for the gift for Izuku’s gift. I can’t write about it just in case ‘someone’ does some snooping. Not that I don’t trust you, Izuku, but you and I will probably be the only ones who ever end up reading this, and you like to borrow my paper. A lot.
Anyway, I should probably stop writing before I get carsick. See you at the summit, I guess.
The next page has a sketch of the mountains. The shading is done so that it almost looks three dimensional, popping off of the page as if you were there yourself. Smudges of graphite reside at the top, with small outlines that reveal them to be clouds. Trees dot the sloped of the hulking slopes, growing more and more sparse as the near the summit.
On the following page is a second entry, written in the same neat, tidy writing. The water damage grows worse here, turning the bottom of the page into an indecipherable smudge.
Day 2
We unpacked pretty quickly. Setting up camp was surprisingly simple. At least, most of it. I labored for hours over the tent until Izuku realized how pitifully terrible I am at putting up tents, and took over for me. Not that I mind. Lightning the fire is much easier anyway (though, Izuku thinks I’m cheating with the way I do it. Clearly it’s not cheating, it’s just using my resources.).
After we had dinner and roasted s’mores, we went to bed.
I think Izuku might be mad at me because I woke up at ‘the buttcrack of dawn’. I don’t get what he was saying. I woke up at four in the morning. That’s pretty late for me. Though, I’m pretty sure he was just teasing.
After that, we started on our hike up the mountain. Izuku planned out the entire trail, and we’re now at his first rest point. Sometimes I think he’s too organized for his own good, but I also can’t judge. After all, his planning allowed me to figure out the perfect place to give him his gift. Again, I can’t write anything about exactly where, because Izuku keeps stealing my paper, but I doubt I’ll need to write it down anyway.
Wish me luck!
Farther down the page lies a second passage.
Day 2 - Later
I’m glad I brought this journal along. People says that if you end up stranded in the wilderness, then it’s good to keep yourself busy. We’re not exactly stranded in the wilderness per say, but I think this is close enough.
What I’m trying to say is that we got stuck in an avalanche.
We were just on our way back to camp after eating some snacks, when something must have happened near the summit. Before we knew it, the snow was careening towards us. In our mad dash to get out of the way, Izuku managed to trip and fall in a large crevasse. Naturally, I jumped in after him.
We’re currently stuck in the crevasse, with what must be hundreds of tons of snow packed in above us. We should be safe for a while, with plenty of snow should we need any water, but food is what worries me.
That, and Izuku injured his leg in the fall. It’s a bloody mess right now. I patched him up as best I cou-
Here, the water damage smudges the rest of the writing.
On the following page there is a list that appears to be a way of keeping inventory. This page is dog eared, and there appears to be a splatters of a red liquid adorning it, most likely blood. Multiple items have been crossed out. Some are crossed out with a quick, neat line. Others seem to have been done with the pencil being pushed down much too hard, leaving behind a thicker line.
Supplies
First aid
Half a roll of gauze-
Four pills of Advil (the rest got lost when the bottle broke in our fall) - Three band-aids
A bottle of rubbing alchohok (half full)
Nutrition
One granoala barTwo fruit gummy packs- Water (from snow)
There is something written in between the next list and the last entry to the previous list. It appears to have been hastily scribbled out.
Miscellaneous
- One backpack
- This journal
- Camera
- Our snowsuits
The neighboring page caught the lesser part of the blood splatter. It is covered in random doodles and scribbles, seemingly to keep the writer occupied. This pattern goes on for a few more pages, until a fourth entry appears.
Day 6
Sorry for not writing for a while. I haven’t really felt up to it.
We’ve our best to escape, but every time we so much as touch the roof of snow above us, it wobbles ominously. Part of it collapsed yesterday, piling the entire western side of the crevasse in with snow. It’s pretty terrifying to see the hulking wall of white right next to us.
Izuku’s condition is steadily worsening. I’ve already used up every single pill of Advil we had. I’ve changed his wound’s dressing only once, to conserve the gauze, which is already beginning to run low. I cleaned out the wound as best I could, pouring the cleaning alcohol on it, despite how he flinches when I do. He does his best to pretend it doesn’t hurt him, but I can tell he’s in pain. I wish I could do more.
We’ve done our best to ration our food, but we can’t survive for long on only a few nibbles of a granola bar and some fruit gummies. Already, I feel nips of hunger. I refuse to complain, though. After all, Izuku is toughing it through a lot more pain.
I can only hope that we get rescued soon.
Numerous following pages are full of more meaningless doodles. One page is covered completely in a sketch of Izuku. In the picture, he grins from ear to ear, practically glowing with happiness. Hair falls in a messy pile atop his head, with bits of it sticking up at random. Freckles sprinkle his face like raindrops on a car windshield, bunching up towards his cheeks. His eyes were shut in happy wrinkles, and dimples show beneath them.
The next entry is extremely short, consisting of only a few sentences that are written in scratchily with wobbly strokes.
Day 9
Today we ran out of food. I’m beginning to fear that rescue isn’t coming.
Many pages follow that are simply full of doodles. The doodles, once something that no one would doubt being drawn by a kid during school, are beginning to get strangely darker. One sketch is of the moon. Written under it, in small letters, is one sentence. “I hope I see you again”.
Another such doodle is of a small figure standing alone, surrounded by darkness. They hold a small lamp, which doesn’t seem to do them much good.
The next entry is written even more messily, many letters having long tails trailing behind them.
Day 14
Izuku’s wound must’ve gotten infected. I haven’t been able to change his dressing, due to running out of gauze a week ago. At least, I assume it was a week ago. It’s hard to tell time down here.
He’s running a high fever, and keeps mumbling nonsense. He thrashes, even in his sleep, whimpering in pain.
Both of us are starving.
We need to get out of here soon.
The following pages are unremarkable. Aside from the doodles, there isn’t much there. Only one has writing. It is neater than the previous entry, but seems to be forced. The markings are dark, and smudged. Small drops of water damage blur some of the words, but it is still legible.
Dear God,
Or Gods. Or Goddess. Or whatever higher power might be out there.
I know I never really followed any religion. I never found any interest in it before, but if there is anything out there, please send help. I know I never made any offerings, or prayers, and I’ve definitely never attended anything resembling a religious ceremony, but please send help.
If nothing else, spare Izuku.
The following page is an explosion of scribbled out words and tear-marks. The words “No” and “I’m sorry” are written multiple times in a variety of sizes. The page is wrinkled, and a few of the following pages have been ripped and mangled beyond repair.
After that, there is one mostly blank page. Two words are written in the middle. They’re small, almost as if they were trying to shrink into themselves and out of existence.
He’s gone.
The rest of the journal in indecipherable. The odd word or two can be read, but most of it is scribbled out. They match most of the previous scribbles.
I’m sorry.
Please.
Hungry.
Blood mars the pages, painting the once clean paper in red.
The final page says only one word.
Goodbye.
The journal was found next to two dead bodies. The first was Izuku Midoriya, age twenty one, a.k.a Deku.
The second was Shouto Todoroki.
Clutched in his hand, even in death, is a small box. Within the box was a gift that was never given.
An engagement ring.