Chapter Text
For Sho’a Aiizwa, it was one of those days- the kind where some eldritch force of chaos wrought havoc and destruction that made him want to curl up and pretend that the cycle hadn’t yet started. His first mistake was forgetting to grab a steaming flask of a’abica.
He would actually believe in some higher being or spiritual force if that was what it took to get some of that sweet nectar.
His next mistake was pairing O’ako Uraka and Ka’azki Bakuo in the flight runs.
Ka’azki was brash and abrasive enough on his own, and had a temper befitting a Nitroglodyle. The Gravangelian herself was usually kind-hearted and sweet, but had a vicious competitive streak, especially against Ka’aki. The two seemed to bring the absolute worst out of each other.
Sho’a had hoped (naively one might say) that the practice session of running deliveries in the asteroid belt would force them to at least cooperate.
If only.
Instead of the semblance of tolerance Sho’a had hoped they would learn, they had crashed the shuttle so badly that he had had to intervene. The shuttle’s RADAR had been so damaged in the crash that the trio on the shuttle were totally oblivious to the much larger cargo shuttle creeping up behind them.
They were unaware of the several henchmen that had boarded the training shuttle until the moment that Sho’a, O’ako and Ka’aki were bound, gagged and dragged onto the cargo ship.
Well scep.
And that was the rough gist of how a Nitroglodyle, a Gravangelis and a Venefeline ended up in a cramped cell, on a cargo ship belonging to one of the galaxy’s greatest traffickers. It sounded like the build up to a poor joke.
Scepping dammit. OverHaul wasn’t even meant to be near this solar system. What was with this batch of cadets and near-death encounters!
And, as if it couldn’t get any worse, there was an infant Chronosapling in the cell.
That was important.
The Chronosapling was barely a few eclipses old, and yet her leafy horn was tinged with a sickly yellow hue. That was bad- really bad. When they had first met (or rather shoved in a cage barely large enough for one), the child, Eri, was terrified, keeping to herself in the corner of the cell. However, as the cycles passed, she came to trust them, as allies and comrades in this bleak hellscape.
Why was there an infant in the cell?
Chronosaplings were popular victims for traffickers for two main reasons: they had the almost unbelievable ability to reverse any being’s growth, and were almost completely defenceless. Being both incredibly valuable and easy to obtain, they were often seen as a quick path to fortune and as such, this was a common sight in his line of work.
That fact didn’t make the disgust gnawing at his innards go away.
Now, four cycles in, they had established a rough schedule: wake up, have almost inedible slop thrown at them, eat, attempt to lure Ka’azki into the warmth of their makeshift cuddle pile, be rejected by the youngling’s pride and then sleep. There was very little else to do, so large spaces of the cycle were spent quietly murmuring plans of escape and observing the guards. Whether those would be of any use was to be seen.
Then, everything changed when the fifth cycle began.
Three burly grunts unlocked the cell door, and marched in, waving tasers wildly in short arcs with stubby paws. Sho’a had seen this species before- he even worked with one at UA.
Saevulpines were, without a doubt, one of the physically strongest species in the cosmos. However, that didn’t come without drawbacks. Their enhanced physiology meant that their species therefore had limited senses, since most of their development as younglings went towards growing and supporting their muscles. For the same reason, they weren’t very bright, and would often lose themselves to rage.
That, from experience, was to be avoided at all costs.
They snarled at a fourth and fifth in Centric, drool leaking from their maws. Two others followed in, hauling in a trolley. Some poor creature rested upon it, with an IV bag stuck in its forearm. The bag itself read Zhenone, a potent anaesthetic. Whatever the poor being was, it wouldn’t be waking up for cycles.
The little empathy Sho’a could spare went out whoever was now trapped with them.
Sho’a could faintly hear the gruff grunts and whistles between the guards as they worked, their broad backs sheltering their work from view.
“What the absolute scep is OverHaul thinking, leaving this with us? Where do we put the scepping thing? There are no free cells and it’ll kill whatever we leave it with.” ,one gnarled.
Well, that wasn’t worrying in the slightest.
The other interjected, “Look at it. No scales, no claws, no nothing. It’s probably harmless. Anyway, who gives a scep? Do you want to question OverHaul?”
“But you heard what it did to the hunters that brought it in. And you know what they did to the Astaurosians...”
The Astaurosians? That old intergalactic race of war-mongers? But they were only a threat back before the invasion of…
Oh. Oh scep. It couldn’t be…
“Let’s go then, before it wakes up.”
As the guards left, they locked the door behind them and marched off, taking the trolley and IV bag with them, but none of that was Sho’a’s concern now. Now he could see exactly why that guard was petrified, and Sho’a had to agree.
A gasp from O’ako drags from the clutches of his panic.
“That’s a Terran!”,
His student’s yell echoes around the room, her brown eyes filled with panic and disbelief, her gilded Gravangelan wings fluttering with anxiety, startling Ka’azki and Eri up, who began to stare at their new cellmate.
She was (unfortunately) right.
Its still, unmoving body lay in front of them, its furless form taking up the corner closest to the cell door.
It was smaller than Sho’a had expected, and didn’t have scales, or claws, or any visible weapons. Its skin was tan-coloured and oddly squishy, as opposed to the firm, calloused skin he had imagined, with strange dots speckled across it. Its only fur was a mop of it on top of its head, an odd dark greenish hue. Was that normal Terran fur colour?
Its garb was odd as well; soft and comfortable, as opposed to the hard armour expected from a warring species. Was that what Terrans looked like?
How odd.
Sho’a ran a paw down his face, sighing heavily and slowly blinking his four crimson eyes, in the hope that this was all a dream and he could wake up, curled up snugly against H’zahi.
“Yes. That is indeed a Terran. And this became a lot more dangerous.” Sho’a sighed.
“Haaaaah?” Ka’azki exclaimed, “How is that dangerous? Looks like a meat bag, and it has nothing to attack with!”
“Ka’azki, this is serious!” O’ako interrupted, “My dad said that Terrans are the most volatile species in the cosmos!”
All three kids turned to Sho’a to settle the matter. He clenched his jaw and pursed his lips tightly, before exhaling loudly. “O’ako is right, Ka’azki. Don’t let your pride cloud your judgement.” Sho’a sternly concluded.
With all three younglings focussed on him, Sho’a had no choice but to elaborate.
“As you may know, Terrans are a recent addition to the Intergalactic Sapients List. We may have known of them for a while, but the High Space Protection Commission decided to wait on meeting them until we knew more about them. Therefore, very little is known about them.
What little we do know comes from the chronicles of the Astaurosians who tried to invade their home planet. Supposedly, their planet consists of many climate zones, some of which are considered extreme or hostile. However, Terrans were able to live in most, if not any, of them. Their planet has since been declared a deathworld, much like yours, Ka'azki. There are multiple species on the planet, some of which are as ferocious as any warrior, even if they couldn’t be classified as sapient. In the ensuing war, Terrans won and destroyed the majority of the invading forces, with very few casualties themselves. They then cannibalised and developed upon the technology that the Astaurosians had brought.”
Sho’a paused for a moment, and, seeing that Eri was now quivering in fear, lifted her up, placed her in his lap, knitting his paws through her tufts of vine and continued.
“I’m not saying any of this to scare you, but we need to be careful. There has been little progress in establishing rapport with the Terrans, especially since the Terrans don’t let anyone near their planet anymore. Humans are unpredictable, aggressive and dangerous. Therefore, no antagonising the Terran. Got it, Ka’azki?”
He turned to face the proud youngling.
The pointed order drew a grunt from the teen, who turned away suddenly, his scales scraping against the cell walls with an ear-piercing screech. Sho’a took that as a sign of admission.
Good. That was one problem hopefully out of the way.
For now at least.
It wasn’t much longer until a groan tugged Sho’a from his thoughts. Looking around, he saw O’ako and Ka’azki staring at the Terran again, panic-stricken.
“It’s waking up!” O’ako yelled, as softly as she could.
How? It was on Zhenone! It shouldn’t be awake for another cycle! Did Terrans have some sort of accelerated healing?
Another groan tore from the Terran’s mouth, displaying two rows of surprising flat teeth, as the Terran shifted. Then, its eyelids opened wide, revealing two shimmering emerald eyes. Black pupils expanded as the eyes blearily panned from side to side, as if surveying the new land.
Suddenly, the Terran jolted up, thrust back into the realm of consciousness. It was very clearly agitated; so much so that even the usually brash Ka’azki chose not to engage it.
Its eyes darted around, gathering as much information as they could, before stopping at each one of Sho’a’s wards. It raised a digit to its pink lips, which moved wordlessly and silently. What was it doing?
Whatever it was doing, it couldn’t be good.
Sho’a growled at it, standing his ground in front of the kids and spreading his arms wide. The fur on his back puffed up, making him seem bigger and covering his wards more. The Terran, however, didn’t seem to be perturbed in the slightest, instead simply staring directly at Sho’a now.
So Terrans can see in the dark to some extent. Scep.
Before Sho’a could even contemplate using his ability of emotional suppression to calm the Terran down, the match was over, with the Terran wheeling away to stare at the cell door and its hinges. Despite being the victor of the impromptu contest, Sho’a didn’t remotely feel like a winner- merely that the Terran had lost interest in him.
After all, it had probably seen (and defeated) larger.
It was at this point that Sho’a realised that a rapid stream of mumbles and other noises was pouring out of the Terran’s mouth, picking up and halting as the Terran poked around the door. The Terran then turned around, facing Sho’a, and, tilting its head at a slight angle, burbled some incomprehensible noises in a vaguely questioning tone.
“I don’t understand you,” Sho’a replied, as placatingly as he could.
The Terran seemed to accept this as a response, since it went back to closely examining the door, though Sho’a doubted the Terran understood him whatsoever. O’ako, Ka’akzi and Eri appeared to have calmed down now that the Terran was no longer staring at them, but remained firmly behind him.
The clatter of the food cart drew the attention of all ears towards the door, before it hissed open again, and an armoured Saevulpine entered, pushing a cart before them.
Sho’a and his wards moved back, not willing to incur the wrath of the guards again; the Terran on the other hand resolutely stayed put, scrutinising the guard’s every move.
“You should move,” advised Sho’a. It may have been futile, but it would have felt wrong to leave the Terran without any warning.
“Listen to him, Terran,” the guard sneered, his spit now flecking the Terran’s face. “Move or I’ll make you.”
The Terran, oblivious to the incoming threat, only tilted his head again and the murmurs started up again, moving an arm to wipe away the spit.
Sho’a had to do something to preserve this Terran’s docile mood- it would not be good if it decided to massacre everyone here and leave whilst agitated.
“It doesn’t speak Centric!” Sho’a yelled desperately.
This was apparently the wrong choice to make, considering the Saevulpines’ sadistic natures. Its sneer deepened into something more menacing.
“Don’t worry,” he taunted. “This’ll learn him real good.”
The guard swung his taser at the Terran, who, having sensed something was amiss, leapt back with astonishing reflexes. Despite its best efforts though, the baton connected squarely with the Terran’s chest, causing it to yelp in pain. Its muscles tensed up in the brief moment of contact, and the Terran fell back to the ground. It rubbed the spot where it had been hit, frowning and wincing slightly.
It was still okay? When Sho’a had been hit, he had been unconscious for a while, and it had taken even longer for him to fully come to his senses. How was it fine? Was that further evidence of accelerated healing? Between that, the reflexes and the pain tolerance, Sho’a was beginning to see how Terrans were able to take down the Astaurosians, even without obvious weapons.
The Saevulpine guard seemed to notice the same thing, since it scowled slightly, as though its fun was ruined, but laughed it off, with a cold, savage bark, and tossed five trays of slop and five bottles of water next to the Terran, before strolling cooly out of the cell. All the while, verdant eyes stalked him critically.
Now the worst had come to pass- Sho’a and his three wards were stuck in a cell with a very much agitated, unpredictable Terran who could shake off a taser.
Scep. This could not get any worse.
Oh wait. Said agitated Terran was in between them and their only source of food for the day.
Double scep.
He could only hope that Ka’azki wouldn’t try to start a fight now.
Just as Sho’a was pondering how to diplomatically negotiate for their food, some higher being appeared to take pity on his plight. The Terran, having sniffed at the trays, was almost physically repulsed and instead chose to grab a water bottle.
Could Terrans survive longer without food than without water? Questions for another time, as the Terran looked up at Sho’a again, then down at the trays. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as hard as he had originally thought. The language barrier still posed a challenge, but perhaps the Terran would understand basic signs.
As it turned out, even that was unnecessary. It peered at O’ako, Ka’azki and Eri before sliding the trays and remaining water bottles towards him.
As Sho’a handed out the trays, choosing to divvy up the Terran’s share between his kids, he was left wondering- what did the Terran have to gain from this?
Any rational creature would have chosen to focus on their own survival- that was a basic, unspoken law of nature. To do that, the Terran should have simply hoarded the food. Surely it knew that it could have done so.
But it hadn’t.
Sho’a hadn’t even asked for the food yet- but the Terran somehow knew?
Could Terrans read thoughts? That would be bad, very bad, especially considering the death glare Ka’azki was giving the Terran.
The Terran then sidled away, moving to the corner of the cell closest to the door. Sho’a supposed that the Terran was done interacting for the time being. The Terran drew its lower appendages to its chest and dropped its head down.
Was that how Terrans slept?
No, its eyes were still open and moving, scanning the corridor just outside, occasionally sipping from its bottle.
As Sho’a and his younglings (and when had he started to think of them as his younglings?) ate the nutritious mulch, Sho’a mentally organised what they knew about Terrans- it was a better use of time than panicking, after all.
They were supposedly fearsome warriors, unpredictable and frighteningly strong, yet the Terran had shown no signs of that. Perhaps it didn’t see them as a threat? But then why didn’t it attack when provoked? Could Terrans be territorial?
Logically, that was the soundest argument. It hadn’t attacked any of them, yet the Terrans had clearly been angry enough to massacre the invading Astaurosians.
That didn’t really help anyone though- all of that was commonly known and didn’t give him a way out of this predicament; only more problems.
From observing this Terran, Sho’a had learnt a few things.
Firstly, they could at least partially see in the dark, possibly better than Ka’azki or O’ako could. Could they be sensitive to light then? Perhaps a potential weakness then. He had a torch in his suit- would that be enough? But he really didn’t want to anger the Terran if it turned out that he was wrong.
Secondly, they didn’t have any natural defences. That was strange- even species that were more inclined to diplomacy would have some means of defence. Were Terrans just that strong? But it was so small! It couldn’t be any taller than Ka’azki, and Nitroglodyles weren’t exactly known for their size.
Thirdly, it seemed that a Terran’s lack of weaponry was nullified by their high pain tolerance and their accelerated healing. Whilst Sho’a lacked evidence for the latter, it would explain how the Terran appeared to brush off that taser and the Xhenone.
Whilst he was silently analysing the Terran, the cycle passed with very little event. During that time, Ka’azki had finally moved closer to the group, finally allowing Sho’a to warm the stubborn youngling up slightly.
Eventually, both darkness and the number of patrolling guards fell.
Whilst his wards rested, exhausted from the fear of the Terran, Sho’a kept a watchful eye on the door, examining the guards that passed and the Terran itself.
There were no more Saevulpines, thankfully, but the new set of guards had long furry ears, an up-turned snout and large leathery wings that connected their upper appendages to their torsos.
Pipistratas his mind supplied.
He wasn’t very familiar with the species, but from what he could tell, they preferred the darkness of Nyx and had large wings that connected their wiry upper appendages to their torsos. They didn’t appear to be very physically strong, especially considering their Mante counterparts, but perhaps that was why they were armed with guns, holstered securely under their wings. Sharp fangs protruded from their upturned snouts, glinting maliciously in the darkness.
Whilst Sho’a sat in silence, eyeballing the few passing guards, the Terran also remained awake. It remained hunched in its corner, so still that Sho’a first thought it was asleep, with only the quiet noise of it moving every so often giving it away.
Throughout the Nyx, the Terran kept watch on the door, taking in each and every guard. Did Terrans not need to sleep? Did they hunt in the dark?
Terrifying thoughts aside, the Nyx passed with very little activity. Was this shuttle run on a skeleton crew? That was useful information for any future plans.
During the Nyx, Sho’a managed to learn one more thing about the Terran.
It glowed.
It was a faint glimmer, barely bright enough to illuminate the cell, or even to be noticeable at first. But, having stared at the cage door and the Terran in front of it, Sho’a was certain of it.
The Terran glowed.
It wasn’t important, nor did it provide any useful weaknesses for him to exploit if necessary. Scep, the only reason he noticed was that his eyes were supremely adapted to seeing in near darkness.
But it was something- more than any being had ever truly learned about the Terrans since the Astaurosians were annihilated.
When Mante began, and with it a new cycle, both Sho’a and the Terran noticed the number of patrolling guards increase. It wasn’t much longer until his wards woke up, bleary-eyed and yawning, stretching outwards to combat their soreness and fatigue.
They had survived one cycle with the Terran.
Now to escape before their luck ran out.
Chapter 2: Never trust a Terran
Summary:
O'ako considered herself an optimist. But the stories surrounding Terrans and her father's warnings about them forced her to be wary.
But surely nothing else can go wrong...
Right?
Notes:
You guys have been so enthusiastic about this fic, so thank you so much for the support! I honestly did not expect this much support and praise for what was originally a one-shot that I posted on a whim. Hopefully, I live up to your expectations!
Oh, and slight trigger warnings for blood and injury between "...grabbed the appendage" and "Glowering with rage..." I don't know how bad it is, but I'm pretty desensitised to violence so I just wanted to put it out there.
The usual disclaimer applies: all rights to My Hero Academia go to Kohei Horikoshi. Please support the original release!
With all that being said, let's go!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
O’ako considered herself to be an optimistic being. You had to be, growing up on the slum planet of Sailos. With little food, and even fewer raw materials to export, most Gravangelians went hungry for cycles at a time, and misery only worsened that pang.
O’ako knew that feeling from experience.
Therefore, even when Aiizwa, Ka’azki and herself were taken by OverHaul, the nastiest, most evil trafficker in the galaxy, she remained positive. Aiizwa was a highly ranked cadet, so they’d be fine! And, loath as she was to admit it, Ka’azki was one of the strongest cadets in their cohort and his knowledge of explosives was simultaneously impressive and disturbing.
Was that why he was on such good terms with that Engrem in the maintenance classes?
(Well, for the Nitroglodyle, being on good terms meant not trying to ‘explodo-kill’ them every ten ticks.)
That was honestly kind of disturbing- especially considering that they both had a knack for making otherwise ordinary things explode with the ferocity of a dying sun.
In any case, if they needed a distraction, or to knock down a wall, she was sure he could rig something to blow up.
Even when they met Eri, she remained positive. After all, O’ako was a cadet in training now- she had no choice but to stay calm, for Eri’s sake.
So, yes: O’ako would definitely consider herself to be optimistic.
However, even for someone as naturally positive as her, it was hard to be anything but cautious and wary around the Terran. As Aiizwa would say, it was only logical.
Sitting in a corner of the cell, watching Aiizwa gently kilt his paws through Eri’s vines, and Ka’azki trying in vain (and hilariously she might add) to stare down the Terran, O’ako sighed softly to herself as she remembered her dad warning her about Terrans.
It was several eclipses ago, whilst she was still a youngling, not that long before she had started attending UA. She could almost feel the heat from the old hearth slamming against her face, its fire crackling peacefully, as her mom, dad and herself ate whatever precious little they had.
“I jus’ want you to be aware of the kind of things you may have to deal with, once you’re a cadet,” his gruff voice had reasoned. “There are many species out there, and whilst most are reasonable, some are malicious and blood-thirsty. I’m not saying all of them are bad, jus’ that…”
He sighed, before resuming.
“I’m jus’ sayin’ that there’s a reason that no-one befriends a Saevulpine, or takes a Venefeline for drinks. Too much bad blood. An’ there's a good reason for that. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
O’ako remembered dimly nodding, mulling over everything that had just been said, before her father, unusually austere, wings fluttering with anxiety, continued.
“O’ako. There’s one species in particular that you must never encounter. Humans are unpredictable and volatile beasts. In the war against the Astaurosians, Terrans are said to have fought viciously and to have slaughtered every invader. However, there are also reports of how deadly their home planet is- predatory animals that are strong enough to tank hits from weapons; unpredictable weather conditions that make living close to impossible; there are even rumours of the plants on that planet being weapons in their own right. They’re all rumours, but similar things happen on other planets.”
Her father then turned to face her, before leaning in.
“O’ako, promise me one thing. Whatever you do…”
“Never trust a Terran,” O’ako whispered under her breath, watching the Terran carefully.
At the time, O’ako had been spooked and trusted her father’s words entirely. After all, she had heard the rumours about Terrans, and bulletins about gangs of Saevulpines or another assassination by a Venefeline were almost cyclic events- it was normal to fear them.
Then she met Aiizwa.
He was her grumpy, sleep-deprived professor at UA, with a record of expulsions longer than her assignment on Intergalactic warfare and a paralysing stare, who also happened to be a Venefeline, a species that everyone seemed to fear and one she was specifically warned against by her father.
That was a great first impression.
As it turned out, her father was wrong about him- Aiizwa was a dedicated teacher, stern, yet fair and kind. Whilst her father had called Venefelines manipulative and crafty, Aiizwa was upfront, so much so that she would call him blunt.
On the other appendage, he did seem to be a fan of logical ruses and tricks, so perhaps there was an element of truth to her father’s words.
Overall, Aiizwa, and the other Venefeline she had met, didn’t seem too bad, and she would even go so far as to call them friendly. So could her father be wrong about Terrans as well?
She looked up from where Eri was being pampered to stare at the Terran again. It was now leaning against the cage door, passively watching the guards pass by. Was it as evil as all the stories said?
She was still a youngling when she first heard about Terrans, and as a youngling with an overactive imagination, she had pictured some hulking brute living in a wasteland, with tough skin and fangs like a Perissodonte and huge claws. As she became older, that image remained broadly the same- until she met a real Terran.
No weapons, no tough skin, no claws, nothing.
O’ako was simultaneously relieved and confused: relieved, because it meant that the rumours around Terrans were likely greatly exaggerated; and confused, because now she knew nothing about them.
How had some unknown species of fleshy, squishy, mainly defenceless beings able to take down a race as formidable as the Astaurosians? Especially to the point that beings today across the cosmos still feared Terrans. Why was the HSPC struggling to make contact? Surely, there had to be something- something that explained all of this!
O’ako sighed. Turning her head away from the Terran, she shuffled awkwardly towards the warmth and relative safety of her teacher and his new ward: the cell was freezing, even to someone who had lived in the desert, where temperatures would plummet during the Nyx. How Ka’azki was able to bear the cold she would never know.
‘Perhaps his ego keeps him warm’ O’ako thought to herself sardonically.
That led to another question however- how was the Terran staying warm? It had no visible fur, except that odd patch on top of its head, and it didn’t even seem to be concerned by the cold! She did remember a lecture at UA about different planets having different climates. Professor Shiraamo had also said that some planets had multiple climate zones, and her father had said something similar about the Terrans’ home planet. Could it really be like that?
She nudged her teacher gently, just enough for him to snap his head in her direction, ears swivelling violently for danger.
“What is it, O’ako?” Aiizwa asked, fur bristling.
“I just wanted to ask what we know about the Terran home planet.” O’ako replied, looking down nervously. Ka’azki, clearly interested but doing his best to hide it, leant forward innocently.
Aiizwa sighed. “Not much. The Terrans call it Earth, or something stupid like that. It has multiple climate zones, some hot, some cold. Not much else has been confirmed, but there are of course rumours, especially from the chronicles. Why do you ask?”
O’ako looked back up to meet Aiizwa’s eyes. Determined, she said, “It’s jus’ that, it’s really cold in here, but the Terran seems fine?” She ended by tilting her head in the direction of the oblivious Terran.
Aiizwa’s eyes widened suddenly, as if he had just had an epiphany, before groaning and running a paw down his face. He muttered something inaudible under his breath, before turning back to O’ako.
“For the sake of my sanity, I’m going to ignore that.”
O’ako blinked. That was not something she had expected, especially from a cadet as seemingly fearless (and more generally emotionless) as Aiizwa, but she decided not to press any further.
It was at that point that the situation went to utter scep.
The rumble of the collector’s cart dragged the cellmates’ attention to the cell door, with Aiizwa and Ka’azki leaping to their feet and hissing involuntarily, and Eri rushing to hide behind the Venefeline. The Terran was clearly confused by the clamour, looking around the room curiously.
The cell door opened with a hiss, and in came a four-armed guard, clad in red-striped armour and followed by two Saevulpines. O’ako could faintly hear Ka’azki mumble “Zealarmet'' under his breath. She couldn’t quite place where she had heard that before, but the Zealarmet was tiny compared to the massive Saevulpine guards, and yet so clearly the superior of the group.
In the corner of her eye, O’ako could vaguely see the Terran hunch up in the corner, drawing its lower appendages even closer to its torso. Its eyes had hardened and its entire body seemed to tense up.
The Zealarmet held the two Saevulpines back with its four arms before speaking.
“OverHaul will be arriving soon for the Chronosapling. Bring it here, and you will be spared.”
Her surprisingly gruff voice then barked an order to the two other guards, who paced forwards, their tasers crackling furiously with electricity, as if daring them to try making a move, their drooling maws contorted into cruel snarls with sadistic glee.
Eri gripped Aiizwa’s legs harder, as if hoping that would be sufficient for the Saevulpines to leave, panic stricken across her face visibly. Unfortunately, this only hindered the Venefeline, and stopped him from moving. Ka’azki stepped in front of his instructor and hissed loudly, stomping his feet and spitting small globs of flame in a traditional threatening display.
O’ako could only stand there petrified- whilst she could defend herself, she wasn’t a frontline fighter like Ka’azki, and she stood no chance against warrior-class Saevulpines. She looked over at the Terran, hoping for once that it would show some of its famed violence and brutality, but to no avail. The Terran remained hunched in its corner, watching the stand off.
Typical.
The Saevulpine grunts barged forwards, swinging their tasers wildly at Ka’azki and Aiizwa. Whilst Ka’azki was able to move out of the way of the blind attack, Aiizwa, with his movement restricted by Eri, was not so lucky, and was struck squarely in the torso, knocking him breathless to the ground. Ka’azki continued to bob, duck and weave through the onslaught, hurling flammable globs of slime at the guards.
The guards dodged with ease, as the slimeballs sailed over their heads.
Eri took this opportunity to run away from her pursuers and into the safety of O’ako’s waiting arms. O’ako shielded the youngling behind herself, ready to defend her and keep her out of the brawl.
Aiizwa seemed to have recovered enough to roar at the attackers, standing up quickly before swiping a clawed paw at them. Aiizwa and Ka’azki were barely holding off the attackers when Ka’azki, despite his innate combat sense, took a paw to the face and hit the ground heavily. Blood streamed from between the displaced scales and Ka’azki seemed dazed from the attack.
One grunt was ready to take advantage of that, lunging forwards, fists ready to pummel him into the ground. O’ako, stepping forward, was ready to join in the fight and defend her rival, when a disc-shaped object soared over her head and stuck the Saevulpine in the face, breaking his nose and leaving shards behind. O’ako looked back.
The Terran had joined the fray.
A green blur tackled the grunt to the ground, taking full advantage of the guard’s dazed state.
Dexterous digits, which O’ako had previously thought to be too small and too fragile to inflict any damage, formed a claw and gouged frantically at the hapless guard’s eyes and face, shredding its skin mercilessly. The Saevulpine stood up, trying to push the considerably smaller Terran off, but it clung on, acrobatically swinging itself onto the guard’s back.
O’ako gasped as she realised that the Saevulpine was no longer able to reach the Terran with his stubby paws. The Terran bore down on the grunt, punching and scratching him. The grunt did his best to shake the Terran loose, before resorting to slamming his back (and so the Terran) against the cell wall.
Even that wasn’t enough as, in an incredible display of strength, the Terran stayed on. The guard reached a paw around, trying to reach the Terran, and almost did. The Terran, however, grabbed the appendage and…
CRUNCH
O’ako could see Ka’azki, the most volatile cadet in the cohort, a proud member of the battle-hardened Nitroglodyle species, flinch heavily at the noise.
The sickening noise was only matched by the gut-wrenching wail dragged out of the guard’s maw, as the Terran bit down on the invading paw. The guard shook violently and then sank to his knees, unconscious from the pain.
The Terran pulled back, stood up, and spat at the ground. O’ako looked over at the gruesome scene, barely holding back the bile in her throat. Blood spewed from one of the guard’s arms, which seemed shorter than his other for some reason. Then, she saw the reason.
In the spot where the Terran had spat, there now lay a mangled, crushed mess- the remains of a Saevulpine paw.
It was a horrific sight- an unconscious warrior, a mangled appendage, and towering above them, despite its shorter stature, its chest heaving with heavy breaths, was the Terran, glowering with rage.
‘So this is why Terrans are so feared,’ O’ako briefly thought, as she saw the Terran turn away from the downed guard, and towards the still ongoing fight.
It knelt on the ground, and picked up the guard’s taser, flicking it on, as though to determine whether it still worked, before turning back to face her, green eyes wide with only pinpricks for pupils.
Oh no no no!
Was it going to attack her now? Did Terrans go on rampages like that? Maybe they were more like Perissodontes than she thought!
Silently panicking, she clenched her fists, squared up into the fighting stance she had practised so many times and covered Eri further. She could not allow Eri to be hurt. Ka’azki seemed to be of the same mindset, as he slowly and groggily clambered to his feet, hissing and preparing to fight.
The Terran however, seemingly disinterested in them, said something in its own language (Terran? Did Terrans have an official language?) and raised a hand, as if saying, “Stay back. I’ll deal with this.”
How it would deal with the unfolding situation was yet to be seen.
(In the chaos of battle, no-one noticed the Terran’s quivering appendages.)
A loud slam distracted the group, causing them to look back up at the brawl. Aiizwa was now pinned against a wall, legs flailing helplessly as he was lifted further up by the other guard.
The Terran lunged forwards, thrusting the sparking taser at the guard, striking his midriff.
Electricity surged, and the larger creature’s muscles locked up and seized, before throwing him back into a cell wall, fried and unconscious.
The Terran had now taken out both Saevulpines.
The commander, who was previously content to watch the Saevulpines tear into their prey, was now quivering, as the Terran slowly turned to face her.
It was breathing heavily, the rise and fall of its chest clearly visible; its pupils wide and fixed unflinchingly on the Zealarmet; its lips pulled apart into a sneer, teeth stained with the blood and flesh of its enemies.
A thought rushed into O’ako’s head at that moment- how was the Terran able to bite off that guard’s paw? Surely its flat rows of too many teeth couldn’t be that strong? The teeth seemed more fit for a herbivore, not a flesh-tearing monster.
She supposed that she could add that to the slowly growing lists of abnormal powers that made Terrans terrifying.
The Zealarmet stepped back slightly, her gaze, trying to look past the short, indignant, murderous Terran, moving from the still-downed Venefeline, to herself and Ka’azki, and finally to Eri, as if wondering whether she was worth the trouble.
Clearly, the Terran disapproved.
Before the leader could even reach for her holster, the Terran had jumped forwards and bashed her patella, crumpling it like a can. As the Zealarmet fell forwards, the Terran grabbed the back of her head and yanked it downwards, simultaneously bringing its knee upwards, crushing the commander’s face with a heavy blow.
The commander staggered back, blood dripping steadily from her face. A hand raised to wipe her face, leaving with a thick coat of blood. Her eyes bugged as she began to swing wildly, roaring out her loyalty to OverHaul as she charged forth for the final time.
However, in her blind rage, she seemed to have forgotten that the cell had more occupants and Ka’azki, taking advantage of the Zealarmet’s focus, ducked low, swooping in from under the Zealarmet to knock her to the ground.
The Terran stepped forwards slowly, almost cautiously, until he was looming over the Zealarmet, who seemed to remember all the stories of Terrans and their wrath. She squirmed and tried to push herself back, as if hoping that that would be enough for the Terran to spare her.
O’ako tightly covered Eri’s eyes and ears with her hands, engulfing her in a big hug, attempting to shield her from whatever atrocities the Terran was about to commit.
Her mind whirled with thoughts- would the Terran kill the commander? What would it do with the dead body? Eat it? Desecrate it? Worse? She had once heard a story of Terrans wearing the bones of their enemies. Was that true?
Bile started to rise again into her throat, an almost familiar feeling whilst the Terran was here.
The Terran drew its baton, tentatively flicked the electricity on and watched the blue sparks of the taser leap and dance, before unrepentantly jabbing it into the Zealarmet, her pained squeals doing nothing to assuage its bloodthirst.
And with that, the battle was over, the room descending into a tense silence.
The commander’s unconscious body lay slack on the ground, her chest barely rising with each shallow gulp of breath and tense silence hung over the cell like an impenetrable fog. Every being in the room shared one, singular question:
What was the Terran going to do next?
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed that and again, thank you all so much for the love and support! I think I'll be uploading on a fortnightly basis, because I have another fic to work on as well (if it's your thing, check it out) and I want to give both of them the love they deserve.
Thanks again, and I'll see you in the next one.
Chapter 3: (Never) trust a Terran
Summary:
In the aftermath of the fight in the cell, O'ako learns more about the Terran.
Notes:
Woo! I'm back with a new chapter for you all! In all honestly, I originally thought that this was going to be a kinda niche fic, but your response has been AMAZING! So, once again, thanks for the support and hope you enjoy!
The usual disclaimer applies: all rights to My Hero Academia go to Kohei Horikoshi. Please support the original release!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The silence reigned in the cell, only intermittently broken by the thumping of O’ako’s heart against her spine, and the rattle of her wings shaking from fear.
What did Terrans do with their enemies?
From the Astaurosian chronicles, there were stories of Terrans wearing the blood of downed beings as face paint; of bonfires, fueled by nothing more than the dismembered bodies of Astaurosians; and of haunting screams from Astaurosians that were never seen again.
O’ako had first read the chronicles on a dare, never one to turn down a challenge, having thought that the rumours about them were fake and exaggerated.
She hadn’t slept comfortably for ten Decimante, plagued by divinyxes of monsters that lived and breathed like beings.
So, she felt that she was entitled to wonder: what was the Terran going to do with its enemies?
As if to answer that unspoken query, the Terran crouched down and, with nimble fingers, patted down the commander’s sides.
‘Weird way to kill someone.’, O’ako couldn’t help but think.
It then prised off the holster, placing it gently to the side, before rummaging around in the suit’s various pockets, pulling out a slim card with a dimple on one edge, a torch and a small alarm.
As it placed and organised the objects on the ground beside it, fiddling with the card inquisitively, O’ako and Ka’azki both made their way to a slowly rousing Aiizwa, Eri tailing not far behind. As they helped prop Aiizwa up, the group watched the Terran pilfer items from the various guards.
It was a weird scene: the once savage Terran looting the unconscious bodies. It was definitely tamer than any of the thoughts that O’ako had originally had, and she was strangely reminded of the furry, banded Kleptracons back home that thrived in the scrap heaps on Sailos and would steal any shiny object that wasn’t literally pinned to the ground.
That being said, Kleptracons did not have the strength or size to bite someone’s hand off and for that she was infinitely grateful.
The scratches and scars that littered her hands burned with the reminder with what could have happened, had it been someone else delivering them.
O’ako was abruptly shaken from her thoughts as Ka’azki snorted, steam bellowing from the slits that formed his nose- the Terran had picked up the Zealarmet’s hand and pressed a finger to the card’s dimple. Before she could even process this, the card lit up a luminous blue, a hologram spouting out in the shape of a map.
How had it known? There was no way a Terran would have interacted with this kind of tech before. Had it simply gotten lucky?
No. That seemed unlikely, especially considering the lack of any hesitation in its movements- it had known what to do.
Did Terrans have some kind of technokinetic control, like Engrems?
O’ako shuddered. From what Aiizwa said about Terrans cannibalising the Astaurosian weapons and technology, and the Terran in front of them figuring out what should have been foreign technology, that could well be true. And if that were the case, how far had the Terrans gotten in using Astaurosian technology? Could they pilot the crafts? Imitate the weapons?
Had the Terrans gotten off of their home planet? Was that how there was a Terran here, in the middle of an asteroid field? Were there more?
It was Aiizwa who pulled her out of her terrifying spiral of thought, with a whispered grunt and a comforting paw on her shoulder.
“We may be able to escape now, but we’ll need weapons.”
He pointed over at the Terran’s hoard, which had grown by quite a bit now: three tasers, a blaster, the hologram card (which the Terran appeared to be analysing carefully), the torch, the pocket alarm, a pair of daggers, and some sort of access card.
Ka’azki huffed. “Getting them’s gonna be a bit hard,” he snorted.
O’ako unfortunately couldn’t disagree. What if Terrans were possessive? It had already shown how easily it could dispatch warriors- what about them? Aiizwa was still injured, so was Ka’azki and she sure as scep wasn’t going to take on an angry Terran whilst having to guard three others!
And just because it was leaving them alone for now didn’t mean that it had any reservations on attacking them if they provoked it.
Which led to another thought- why did the Terran attack the guards?
Not that she wasn’t thankful- it probably saved their lives! That didn’t stop its actions from being… irrational, as Aiizwa would say.
Did it see a way to escape? But then why not when it had been attacked by that guard who brought them food? Probably not then. So why…?
As seemed to be the running theme with her mental monologues, she was interrupted, but by a much less welcoming sight this time.
Because, whilst she, Ka’azki and Aiizwa were attempting to plan a way to retrieve some weapons without losing an appendage (or worse), and to no avail, Eri had been fixated on the Terran.
Now, she had peeled away from the group and was running directly at the maw of death itself- the Terran.
O’ako dove after her, missing her tantalisingly narrowly, and could only wince, as Eri slammed into the Terran’s back, hugging it as much as she could with her short vines.
Sobbing freely, she cried, “THANK YOU MISTER TERRAN!”
The Terran jolted on impact, rectifying itself with ease. It turned around to face her, placing a hand on her head, the other on its back, preventing Eri from escaping.
All three UA cadets stiffened, with Ka’azki baring his fangs- was the Terran going to eat Eri? Did it see easy food?
Then, as was probably to be expected at this point, the Terran surprised them all. Its hands smoothly rubbed against Eri, flattening her vines and calming her down. It then began to coo softly in an almost melodious manner. The Terran’s lips were raised, but without the terrifying flash of bared fangs.
If this wasn’t in the middle of several unconscious bodies, O’ako would have thought that the Terran was behaving… parental. Like they were in Eri’s brood or something…
But… it couldn’t be!
It had just mauled three beings! With no remorse! What kind of crazy mood swing was this?
What was going on! What changed? What made Eri different?
Oh… Was it that Eri was a youngling? Did Terrans have parental instincts? That sounded so wrong and yet it seemed like the only logical solution. Perhaps it imprinted on her and thought of her as its youngling?
Aiizwa seemed to have figured the same, although he seemed a lot more sceptical, and Ka’azki…
Ka’azki was still hyped up to fight the Terran. O’ako thought that that might be the closest thing to a compliment she had seen him give anyone, especially for someone from a race who valued strength.
(Privately, O’ako thought it was still weird, but who was she to judge?)
In any case, whilst the Terran was pacified with Eri, now was probably the best chance to get some weapons and escape. Unfortunately, with Aiizwa still recovering and Ka’azki being more likely to challenge the Terran to a fight than to be diplomatic, that burden, sorry- responsibility, came down to her.
Lucky her…
Getting up slowly and deliberately, as to not startle the Terran, O’ako proceeded forwards, ensuring not to make any sudden movements. She could feel the stares of confusion and absolute disbelief from her mentor and peer, as she inched towards the currently docile beast.
‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained…’ she thought.
Keeping her movements limited, yet purposeful and clear, she paced forwards, arms wide open and treading carefully, as to not make any sudden noises.
The Terran didn’t look up, instead keeping its arms tightly wrapped around the youngling and its face buried in the crook of her neck. Neither the gentle cooing nor the rubbing motions of its hand had stopped, with the Terran murmuring slightly into Eri’s ear.
It hadn’t noticed her. Perhaps Terrans had poor senses, like Saevulpines? But its eyes were large and round, not all squinty and small like Inu’s were. So how then…? She shook her head quietly- thoughts for another time.
And place. Hopefully.
If (no- when. Positive thinking!) she survived this, O’ako swore to pay more attention in Shiraamo’s lessons on handling wild animals.
After what felt to her like an eternity, O’ako reached the Terran.
Really she had walked about half the length of the already tiny cell, but with her legs quivering from the fear and her back bearing the burden of Aiizwa’s and Ka’azki’s disapproving glares, it felt like she had just undertaken one of Aiizwa’s training regimens.
Cautiously side-stepping around the cuddling Terran and Chronosapling, O’ako, as quietly as she could, leant down, arm outstretched in front of her to grab some of the Terran’s hoard, heart pounding wildly in the back of her chest.
And came face to face with the Terran.
Her lungs spasmed as brown eyes met green, her breathing turning rapid and shallow, skin cyanotic as she stared into the eyes of the beast.
The Terran’s eyes were watery, some strange liquid seeping from them, and the whites of its eyes were bloodshot, vessels springing up from their beds- was it in pain? Her Keroppian friend Tzu’u looked the same when she fractured her leg in the disaster simulation last Decimante, but her eyes definitely didn’t leak, like the Terran’s; only turning a slight red.
Whilst she was fixated on the Terran’s eyes, the Terran had been looking between her and the other cadets, mumbles burbling from its lips, before seemingly having a realisation and turning around, giving O’ako the opportunity to pull a reluctant Eri away from the danger.
Keeping her vision trained on Eri’s retreating back until she reached the relative safety of Aiizwa, O’ako turned back to reach for the weapons; anything that could help their escape.
The first thing she saw when she turned around was the end of a taser, followed by a toothy snarl from the taser’s wielder, giving her a perfect view of chunks of Saevulpian flesh and blood.
Her mind vaguely registered two gasps of shock, followed by angry hissing from her teacher and Ka’azki getting up with a roar, but none of that mattered in the moment- he wouldn’t reach them before the electric prongs embedded themselves in her face; before the Terran…
She didn’t want to think about it; wouldn’t face it; couldn’t bear it.
She closed her eyes and awaited the cold, merciless darkness of unconsciousness…
To her surprise, the darkness never came; opening her eyes, she saw that instead of the taser plunging into her face, it wobbled in front of her- no telltale sparks of life and pain.
Instead the Terran was scratching the fur on the back of its head, snarl faltering slightly as it caught sight of her expression. Why did it look almost… self-conscious at that? Was that not a threat display?
Alright, there was no way any of this was real: first it saved them, then was all parental around Eri, now was shy with her? No way! There was only one possibility…
She was dead.
Or, at the very least, she was dying. There was no other possible solution in her mind!
Not even the power of positive thinking could help her here!
OverHaul’s grunts must have gotten to her during the fight and she could only hope that there was still a body for her burial. Perhaps she would get the traditional Sailosian farewell of being cast off into the depths of the universe in a shuttle rigged to explode.
Or- Or the Terran had turned on her and tore her to bloody pieces during the earlier fight. She knew she should’ve taken up Mo’o’s offer of close combat practice when she’d had the chance. Hopefully the Terran didn’t go after Eri and she was safe (and not too traumatised, though it may be a little too much to hope for that).
Sorry Mama… Sorry Papa…Your sweet youngling is dead.
She’d never achieve her goal of becoming a great cadet and help them move away from their scrapyard of a home planet to a better place…
Except, going by the reactions from Ka’azki and Aiizwa, she somehow wasn’t?
Going by the gaping mouths and dumbstruck expressions that had possessed their faces (and really that was probably the most surprising part of these past few cycles- Aiizwa showing an emotion other than apathy or fatigue), she was alive and seeing the same thing as them.
What, and excuse her Nitroglodylian, the ABSOLUTE MIERDA!
O’ako’s brain had shut down from the oddity that was this Terran; barely noting the poorly muffled giggles from the young Chronosapling from behind her.
What it did notice was the sudden, cool weight that had plopped into her hand, and the warm digits that were now enclosing it.
Looking down, she saw the taser, which was once pointed at her, nestled into her palm, four stubby digits wrapping around it, thanks to the Terran hand which was closing her fist.
The Terran had given her a weapon?
If the Terran giving them food was strange, and it coming to save them was illogical (though appreciated), this was outright nonsensical. Who in their right mind would give a weapon to someone who could be their enemy? Was it that confident it could beat her in a fight, even at a disadvantage?
Surely Terrans couldn’t be so stupid as to not prioritise their own safety? How had they ever beaten the Astaurosians if they were this… this…nice?
Fine! She admitted it! The Terran was super nice! It shared its food; it helped them in the fight; and now it was trying to help them escape. Sue her!
The Terran, blatantly confused by O’ako’s reactions, waved a hand dismissively behind it, in the direction of its hoard. Was it inviting her to take what she needed?
Well, if it insisted.
Picking up another taser, a dagger and a blaster and scooping them into her arms, O’ako walked back to her group, where Aiizwa was waiting, arms crossed, all four eyes gleaming a menacing red and staring directly at her.
Oh scep. She’d messed up- big time.
“What, exactly, were you thinking, approaching the Terran?”
Her mentor’s stern voice cut through the air like a tarnished blade through armour, which was to say, blunt and without sympathy.
“I-I thought we needed weapons. You’re still injured and-and Ka’azki would’ve started a fight…”
An indignant snort and hiss of steam from Ka’azki interrupted her, cutting her explanation short, but a pointed glare from Aiizwa allowed her to continue.
“W-Well, I was the only choice to get the weapons we need… Sorry for acting without orders.”
She dropped the weapons to the floor and herself into a low bow: the universal sign of apology. Aiizwa merely sighed and ran a paw down his face, a common action for him.
“Get up. I’m not angry at you, more the situation. You shouldn’t have done that, though. What if you had gotten injured? Or worse? What then? What about Eri? Did you stop to consider any of that?”
Each question felt like a stab to O’ako’s chest, ripping deep into her and exposing every fear; every way her plan (or the small amount she had) could have backfired. Her wings drooped slightly, something that Aiizwa seemed to pick up on, as he sighed again, his eyes darkening into their usual black colouration.
“I was worried for you. You kids have been in more danger than some cadets. I don’t want you putting yourself in any more danger. But anyways, you did good.”
O’ako felt herself perk up at that, her wings fluttering with excitement from the praise.
“It seems your lessons with Shiraamo are paying off. Well done, O’ako. Just, don’t interact too much with the Terran, alright? That goes for you too Eri. Remember?”
O’ako nodded in confirmation. But, to her surprise, Eri pouted.
“But the Terran helped us! They helped us and were nice to me, and they give the best hugs! So, I don’t think they’re mean, Aiizwa.”
Innocent red eyes looked up into tired black eyes, silently begging for the elder to agree and O’ako couldn’t tell which way Aiizwa would lean. The older being leaned in closer, rubbing a paw through Eri’s vines.
“Well, if you want to be friends with the Terran, you can’t startle i- them like that. Okay?”
Eri accepted that with a giggle, nodding excitedly at the prospect of being the Terran’s friend. That was the first time O’ako had heard Eri giggle, or even talk!
What did the Terran do to her? Could they suppress emotions like Aiizwa? Or was it some kind of mental overwriting, like Hito’i could do? Her terrifying mental monologue was once again cut short, this time by a roar of frustration from Ka’azki.
“Now that that’s settled, shall we go? Or are we scepping gonna wait for that Mierda OverHaul to bring his scepping ugly face here?”
Snatching up a taser from the ground, he marched over to the cell door, where the Terran was waiting, leaning casually in the corner, one hand picking at its teeth, pulling away the ugly pieces of flesh that were previously smeared across them, the other fiddling with a taser. A blaster poked out from the waist of its trousers and O’ako guessed that it had something else with it, considering the large bulge in its pocket.
Was it waiting for them? Perhaps she should stop calling it an it, then… Aiizwa seemingly had, and it would make Eri happy…
Ka’azki was none too pleased to be waiting alongside his newfound rival, but huffed at the group to hurry up. Aiizwa shrugged at O’ako, before picking up a dagger and passing her the blaster.
The two scrambled to their feet, O’ako taking Eri’s small vine into her hand and gently leading her through the maze of enemy bodies, towards the open door.
They had waited long enough.
Now, it was time to break free!
Notes:
And that's that! Hope you enjoyed O'ako's perspective on everything and how I've tried to characterise her here.
Fun fact: humans are the only animals to cry, in the way of tears and sobbing. Therefore, it's entirely possible that we are the only beings to cry whatsoever, or at least, we never meet another.
Hope you all enjoyed, and see you next time!
Chapter 4: Breaking out
Summary:
After the fight in the cell, it's time to escape from OverHaul's clutches.
Notes:
I'm back with another chapter! And now we can finally change setting!
All rights to My Hero Academia go to Kohei Horikoshi. Please support the official releases!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hissing out plumes of steam, Ka’azki leaned against the wall, spitting at the ground and watching it sear and sizzle its way through the dirt and grime. It was a bad habit, and one that he couldn’t quite get rid of, but it at least cleared his head and let him think.
Aiizwa was locking the guards and commander in their cell, which left him and O’ako to look out for any incoming patrols and to watch Eri.
Not that there was anything to actually do: the brat was huddled up with the Terran, clinging to it like it was her personal saviour; Pink Cheeks was fluttering as anxiously as always between them; and the Terran had been cooing at the youngling since Aiizwa had left, drawing giggles from her like a parent.
It was almost shameful how little it cared for its own reputation.
Wait! What was the stupid thing doing now?
Ka’zki turned slightly so that he could see the group in the corner of his eyes, his outer eyelids half-shut in a pretence of apathy.
And watched in thinly concealed amazement as it spun the taser between its fingers before simply allowing the stick to come to rest in its palm, pushing it up to his fingers and spinning it again. Even Ka’azki had to admit that it was slightly impressive.
Ugh. Stupid fleshy, surprisingly dexterous digits.
They weren’t even clawed! How was it supposed to deal any damage like that?
Then he remembered its flat row of teeth, and how much force they were able to deliver. Dammit! Everything about the Terran was deceptively strong.
He flexed his own claws, too short and stiff to bend and move like the Terran’s, but perfect for puncturing and tearing flesh; perfect for winning fights and proving his strength.
Sighing inwardly at the gasps of amazement from the youngling as she begged for it to do it again, watching it like some tamed beast in an enclosure.
Huh. That seemed kind of fitting for the dumb brute- especially with how much it seemed to dote on Eri. In a way, it was like one of those companion beings (Tamagotchin, as they were more commonly known) that some beings had. When he was a youngling, he had begged his parents to get one for him; Tamagotchin were a symbol of power and authority- two things that Ka’azki knew he had.
And that frustrated Ka’azki.
According to Aiizwa and Pink Cheeks, Terrans were strong enough to have killed the Astaurosians, and he could definitely see how those rumours spread (even if he still didn’t quite believe them).
So why was it not acting like the proud warrior it should be?
Even now, the Terran was twirling the taser in its hand like it was some… performing freak! If a Nitroglodyle acted like that, even around younglings, they’d be ridiculed for the rest of their puny lives.
Ka’azki hated things that didn’t make sense, and the Terran was nearing the top of that list.
“Alright. Time to go.”
Aiizwa’s commanding voice drew everyone's attention, causing the Terran to drop its taser in surprise. Ka’azki had to bite down on the forked end of his tongue to stop the snickers that threatened to escape, unable to fully muffle the squeaking laughter that sneaked out..
It wasn’t his fault that the Terran looked so scepping stupid!
“Get it together Ka’azki- you’re with me.”
And there went Ka’azki’s good mood… Dammit Aiizwa!
“O’ako- you follow close behind with Eri. Don’t let go of her. Let’s go.”
But before anyone could go anywhere, a thin vine wrapped around Aiizwa’s appendage, tugging him backwards weakly. Ka’azki followed the vine back to its owner- Eri. The pouting youngling looked up at the Venefeline, determination flooding her eyes, before pointing another vine towards the Terran.
“W-What about Mister Terran? We can’t leave them!”
Ka’azki scoffed loudly. Why couldn’t they leave the Terran behind? It was wild, stupid and uncontrollable- all in all, more trouble than it was worth. Surely Aiizwa would agree with that.
To his surprise, instead of dismissing her like he had expected, Aiizwa, rubbing a paw against his forehead, bent down in front of the Chronosapling and kilted another paw through her vines.
“Eri, they don’t speak Centric, so that means we can’t plan our escape with them. And you’re my priority, not them- we need to escape quickly. If they’re smart, they’ll come with us. Okay?”
Unfortunately, it appeared that Aiizwa’s answer wasn’t enough to satisfy Eri, causing her to wilt and droop more. Then, all of a sudden, her eyes lit up with determination.
For the second time that cycle, she darted away from the group, ducking under O’ako’s outstretched arms, and crashed into the Terran. She wrapped a vine around its appendage and tried to pull it towards the group.
The key word being tried, since there was no way that the significantly larger and stronger Terran could ever be moved by the tiny youngling. Honestly, if it wasn’t for how serious the situation was, and how grim the expressions Aiizwa and even O’ako had were, Ka’azki might have lost it there and then.
The Terran tilted its head and chirped curiously at the youngling. Hands immediately but gently moved to caress Eri’s vines as before, the same oddly melodious babble springing from its mouth.
Ugh. It was nauseatingly sweet!
Eri seemed to enjoy the contact though, her eyelids slowly slipping shut; her lips raising upwards into a content smile as it nuzzled further into the Terran’s grasp.
Which was stupid, as was everything surrounding the Terran.
Closing her eyes meant that she couldn’t see the Terran or its movements, and as such was a very trusting move. She was definitely growing attached to the dumb, volatile thing, as was O’ako (though to a much lesser extent).
That was going to make the Terran’s inevitable departure awkward…
In any case, the brute was on their side at the moment. And even he had to admit that they were safer with it than without. It had already proven itself to be a strong combatant and extremely protective of them, or at least Eri.
Uhh. There was a word for that, wasn’t there? Shiraamo had brought it up in his lesson on how to deal with nesting creatures…
Never mind. It wasn’t important at the moment.
The point was: if the Terran thought Eri to be in its pack, it would probably defend them as well.
Probably.
“Come on Eri. Time to go. We don’t have any time to waste.”
Aiizwa’s voice had gained a tone of urgency, and Ka’azki knew why- the Zealarmet had mentioned during the earlier fight that OverHaul would be here soon for Eri and they had then wasted quite a bit of time waiting for the Terran to finish looting the guards and trying to get weapons.
And even someone who craved battle like him did not want to have to face an angry OverHaul.
Eri nodded, and started to walk towards the elder being with her vine still wrapped firmly around the Terran’s arm, causing it to shuffle behind her. With a glance from Aiizwa, Eri reluctantly let go of the Terran, instead wriggling her vine into O’ako’s grip. The Terran seemed confused at that, but seemingly chose not to comment.
Even if it had, no-one would have understood it anyway.
And finally the escape could begin.
---------
The winding halls of the shuttle were eerily silent.
Even with Aiizwa’s accurate guess that the shuttle was being run on a skeleton crew, the lack of any noise was unsettling, like the quiet before a storm.
In the practice shuttle runs that UA held, Ka’azki had often found comfort in the whirring and hissing sounds of life within the ship. It was calming, as opposed to the harsh sirens and alarms that bellowed when things went wrong. Here, however, the only noises were the tapping of his scaled feet against the cold floor, and his hammering heart in his chest.
And it almost physically pained him to admit that he was making the most noise on the entire shuttle.
Even the Terran sneaked along the corridors more quietly than him!
Ka’azki knew that he had never been the best at stealth. It just wasn’t his style and he had always preferred being in his opponent’s face, overwhelming them with pure strength, just as All Might supposedly did in the legends.
It also didn’t help that crimson scales were neither able to blend in well with the surroundings, nor walk quietly on any hard surface. The scrape and clatter often gave his position away in simulations, and the same was true here, no matter how hard he tried.
Out of the entire cohort, he was probably one of the worst when it came to stealth, and it normally didn’t bother him. After all, O’ako being quieter than him didn’t mean that he couldn’t still demolish her in a fight.
But his failing was made all the more obvious in comparison to the Terran behind him.
In contrast to his quick strides and noisy footfalls, the Terran moved slowly, each step deliberately placed so that it wouldn’t make any noise.
Which was made even more frustrating by the fact that not even Aiizwa could hear it walk. The teacher’s ears swivelled, trying to catch noises that were barely even there.
How the scep was a dumb animal like the Terran so much better than this than he was?
“Ka’azki! Focus on your feet, or we’re all going to get caught!”
Aiizwa’s hissed commands snapped Ka’azki from his thoughts, leaving the youngling humiliated.
Stupid Terran! Stupid OverHaul! Stupid everything!
Slinking through the maze of corridors, Ka’azki noted each of the cell doors that they passed and, perhaps more importantly, the lack of inhabitants in each.
Where were all the prisoners?
It made some sense that a smuggling shuttle like this one would be run on a skeleton crew to avoid notice, but it was impossible to conceive that Eri had been the only prisoner on board until they had been captured.
What was the deal with this ship? What was its purpose?
The shuttle itself also frustrated Ka’azki. There was tarnish and damage to almost every cell door, but the walls themselves were sparkling clean- literally. The metal panels had been scrubbed excessively, and were worn thin in some places, scratches marking nearly all of them.
Therefore, the ship itself had to be an old one, perhaps even stolen from another bounty hunter. However, it had also been cleaned so thoroughly that he could almost see his reflection in the walls.
What a scepping weirdo OverHaul was!
Ka’azki had thought it odd that there hadn’t been any guards closer to their cell, but he wasn’t about to question the good fortune.
Unfortunately, as the past few cycles had demonstrated, the only luck that UA cadets would ever have was miserable luck.
The first thing to go wrong was the unavoidable encounter with a patrolling guard.
A Saevulpine, shorter and weaker than the previous ones, with a large cut over their left eye, blocked their path, facing away from them. They didn’t seem to have any weapons and were dressed in a flight suit, as opposed to the customary heavy armour.
All in all, a much easier opponent to handle.
Not that Ka’azki had known…
The only sign of anything being wrong that he had noticed was Aiizwa stopping suddenly, holding out an appendage to halt everyone else and bending his knees, preparing to strike at the opportune moment.
But that moment never came.
Before Aiizwa could even move, the Terran had sprinted past him.
The group was left as spectators, watching the Terran draw out its taser and charge towards the oblivious guard, not even bothering with stealth any more.
Dammit!
There was no time to stop the Terran from dashing ahead, or even to join the attack. Ka’azki simply wasn’t fast enough, and Aiizwa was still injured.
Dammit, dammit, dammit!
Why was the Terran so brash and reckless? Ka’azki could appreciate the Terran’s technique and combat sense, and, as a Nitroglodyle, he valued overwhelming opponents with strength.
None of that stopped the Terran from being a complete fool.
“WHAT THE SCEP! WHO ARE YOU?"
Ka’azki wasn’t able to see around the corner, only hearing the screech of surprise and pain, then a crackle and finally a heavy thud.
The three UA cadets shared an awkward glance, unsure whether to go with the Terran or to hang back.
Then, a scraping noise from beyond drew their attention, causing them to peek around, unwilling to risk their own necks or Eri’s safety.
And were met with the bizarre scene of an unconscious Saevulpine body being dragged away by the Terran, like prey for a future meal. It began tearing away at the guard’s flight suit, ripping off strips of cloth, then using them to gag and bind the Saevulpine.
Ka’azki usually didn’t fear much- it was a disservice and a weakness when fighting. This was an exception and left Ka’azki wondering how many times the Terran had done something like this. Its movements were fluid and practised; done without hesitation or remorse.
Scepping blood-thirsty psychopath…
(He’d never admit it, but the Terran seemed to kind of, potentially be a slight badass.)
He then watched as the Terran opened a nearby cell and tossed the limp body into it, leaving it to land and skip backwards, like a pebble thrown over water. It then turned around and clumsily slammed the cell door shut.
And with that, they were one downed guard closer to sweet escape.
---------
After a frustratingly long time, Ka’azki was getting sick of the ship.
Every corridor looked the exact same: the same panelling, the same cells, the same everything! It all even smelled the same! If they were getting any closer to the exit, Ka’azki sure as scep couldn’t tell!
In addition to that, every turn led to another patrolling guard or small squadron and the consistent battling was leaving its mark on everyone, draining their energy and spirits.
That meant literally too- bruises, cuts and burns now adorned Aiizwa, the Terran and himself. The Terran had taken the most hits and so had the most to show for it, with a large bruise beginning to form over its eye and various rips and tears in its garb.
The positive side of this was that Ka’azki had managed to learn a lot about the Terran through the fights.
There was an old Nitroglodylian saying that the only way to truly know someone was through their fighting style.
The Terran was rash, taking risks that most sane beings would avoid (but not Ka’azki). However, it was clearly also capable of team combat, as was seen in the occasional fight against squadrons. It would leave an opening for either Aiizwa or Ka’azki to exploit, or beat away an enemy that had gotten too close.
However, that all came at the cost of the Terran now showing signs of flagging. They were well hidden of course, but Ka’azki had been in enough fights to know them personally: the slight limp, the way it rested casually against the nearest wall every so often, the way it clutched its right arm every time it threw a punch or swung its taser.
It was clearly in pain, which meant that it couldn’t fight as well as it normally would.
Well, that just meant that it was up to Ka’azki to be strong enough to fight for him as well!
That never came to pass, however, since it seemed that there were no more guards to block their way.
Instead, the next obstacle in their way was a locked door.
Which was made even more annoying by the glowing sign that read “Hangar bay.”
So close, and yet so far…
As a result, Ka’azki and the Terran were left to keep an eye out for any incoming patrols, whilst O’ako held Eri safe and Aiizwa examined the door.
Unfortunately, the Terran seemed to be too dense to understand basic commands like “Stay”, and preferred to check the door itself.
Ka’azki wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve this kind of torture, but he already regretted everything.
“It seems to be made of some kind of ferraum.” Aiizwa finally determined.
Ferraum was a relatively expensive material that was hard to manufacture and so there were only a few specialist suppliers. It was tough- strong enough that not even a Saevulpine could break through it.
Which meant brute force wasn’t going to cut it here.
Scep! And they were so close as well!
“There’s a keycard slot.”, O’ako pointed out.
“But we don’t have the keycard.” Aiizwa rebutted, “Ka’azki, line up some slime in the gaps here and then detonate it.”
Ohhhh yes! This was going to be good!
BEEP BEEP BEEP.
The sudden noise caught the group off guard, causing them all to jump and look at the door, hoping that the noise didn’t herald OverHaul’s arrival and their likely demise. Ka’azki drew his baton, fully prepared for a fight for their survival…
And was met with the Terran standing in front of the newly opened door, spinning the keycard on an outstretched finger.
HOW? Where had it come from?
Than Ka’azki saw the card better- it was the same one that the Terran had taken from the Zealarmet. Had it known back then? Or was it pure luck?
Either way, the path had opened up, and the escape was still on.
Ka’azki couldn’t help but feel conflicted by this. On the one appendage, they were free to leave now. On the other, he had really wanted to blow the door open…
And what did that mean about the Terran? Ka’azki supposed that it wasn’t entirely a moronic brute, as hard as that was to say.
The hangar was a large open area, panelled with the same curved sheets of metal. It was darker than expected, with the overhead tubelights doing little to brighten the place. There was an unmanned control panel, one they could hopefully use to open the hatch and escape.
And in the corner, far away from the door, two Engrems were examining the UA shuttle that he and O’ako had been using all that time ago. Their backs were facing the group, showing off their pointed tails, whilst they seemed focussed on reverse engineering the shuttle. If they were anything like Ma’i, his Engrem friend in maintenance, they would be too absorbed by the technology to even notice if a bomb went off.
Perfect.
Sharing a look with Aiizwa, the pair of cadets leapt forwards, bounding across the room in an instant, slamming the blunt edge of their tasers into the backs of the Engrems’ rounded heads, knocking them both out at the same time.
For all their ingenuity and intelligence, they were not a strong species.
Calling out to the group, Aiizwa set to work opening and starting the shuttle, leaving Ka’azki to drag the unconscious Engrems away and to slam the button to open the hatch. O’ako lifted Eri onto the ship and began helping Aiizwa getting the ship functional.
Whatever. She was better with ship maintenance than he was anyways.
The air in the pod was tense as they all waited with baited breath. If they were discovered now it was all over.
As he and the Terran piled onto the ship, Ka’azki took the time to examine the Terran. It seemed paler than before, its appendages shaking slightly now. As it sat down, it slumped into its chair, seemingly unable to get comfortable, tenderly rubbing at bruises.
The shuttle rumbled slightly as the engines fired into life.
Then, Ka’azki’s eyes were drawn to the Terran’s arm. A long cut ran down the length of its arm, blood slowly seeping out of it, the skin around it blistering an angry red.
How had that happened? And when? How had it not noticed? The cut was massive, and Ka’azki knew cadets that would have been rendered unconscious from less than what the Terran had. The tiny scep-muncher Mino’u came to mind.
“Oi! Scep-face! What happened there?”
The Terran turned to him, wincing slightly as it did. It clearly didn’t understand anything that Ka’azki had just said. Scep! Stupid language barriers!
“Alright, we’re leaving! Hold tight!” Aiizwa’s voice called out from the front, where Eri and O’ako were working to send a message to UA.
Ka’azki, in a moment of genius, jabbed a claw at the Terran’s arm, being careful not to touch anything or make the injury any worse.
“There you dumb scep! What happened?”
The Terran looked confusedly at its arm, touching it gently, its fingers coming away stained with blood. It examined its fingers carefully, like it had never seen them before, staring at them so closely that Ka’azki thought that the Terran couldn’t see.
Wait… Did it not know it was hurt? How was that even possible?
Ka’zki scoffed internally. Perhaps it was too stupid to feel pain.
Before Ka’azki could ask anything else, the Terran keeled over, landing clumsily into Ka’azki’s lap.
What the scep!
Only one thought ran through Ka’azki’s mind at that moment:
“Aiizwa! We need a medic!”
Notes:
And scene! Hope you enjoyed Ka'azki's perspective on everything and how I've tried to characterise him here. Obviously, since he and Izuku were never childhood friends, his entire character is different, so I've modelled him after Vegeta from Dragon Ball - a prideful warrior who takes fighting seriously.
Also, I'm surprised no-one got the cameo mention in the last two chapters. I've mentioned them again, as well as another character, so take a guess who they are!
Thanks again, and I'll see you all in the next one.
Chapter 5: Consequences
Summary:
Everything has its consequences, like the wings of a butterfly causing a typhoon across the world.
Notes:
Woooh! I'm back with a new chapter! Hope you guys enjoy!
All rights to My Hero Academia go to Kohei Horikoshi. Please support the official releases!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Whilst one shuttle zipped away from the cargo ship like a frightened Rattenkin, another, much larger one cruised towards it slowly, cloaked from sight and barely making a sound; its massive, round frame smoothly slipping past asteroids without leaving even a trace that it was ever there- a vehicle that perfectly represented its master:
Untouchable.
That was how the ship- the “Hassakai”- was, and that was how he was.
Ky’i was the leading trader across the cosmos- it just so happened that his wares were often less than legal.
(It wasn’t his issue that no-one chose to exploit this specific market. Money was money after all, and only naive idiots would try to differentiate it.)
The fools at the HSPC had long tried to catch him, and would continue to try well into the future.
Hmpf. Let them.
After all, there was no chance that they would be able to catch either him or his subordinates- he had too much money and too much reach for that to ever happen. Any thought otherwise was utterly laughable.
He chuckled to himself slightly as the Hassakai approached his cargo ship- he had a feeling that this cycle was going to be a good one.
“Sir, we’re ready for docking.”
Ky’i waved an arm at the grunt who had walked up to him, signalling to begin the docking sequence.
Listening to the rhythmic clicks and clanks of the machinery whirring into life, he paced forwards slowly, examining the view through the leeward window.
The cargo shuttle, a tarnished, old thing that he had… liberated from its previous owners, was the perfect guise to do business under. It was seemingly innocuous but was still functional, the kind of ship that no narrow-minded cadet would ever think to check for the illustrious Ky’i.
Its only flaw was its age- old panels needed to be replaced often and scrubbed down every cycle to keep the place clean. Without the cycle cleaning, grime and mess began to spread across the walls, and self-cleaning panels were too expensive to buy without raising unnecessary suspicion.
He was untouchable, and as such, his presence couldn’t be marred by even the tiniest speck of dirt.
Staring out at the view before him, he noticed that the cargo ship’s hatch was open.
Normally, that wouldn’t be unusual- it was fairly standard practice to park an old ship that appeared to have broken down somewhere and allow self-righteous do-gooders to be drawn into the trap, their futures thrown away for servitude by a foolish act of kindness.
However, this was not normal.
Whilst the cargo ship was indeed old, it didn’t look like it had broken down. The trap wouldn’t work, and anyone working under him worth the clothes on their back would know that.
Hah. Whatever.
So someone forgot to close the hatch. Big deal.
He’d probably still make an example of them, though. It was expensive to keep these things running.
Anyway, nothing could bring his mood down now: he had a new ware to sell, and its name was Terran.
Ky’i thought back to when had first been informed of the Terran’s capture.
In all honesty, he hadn’t quite believed his fortune. Oh, he knew the legends and myths surrounding them, but he didn’t care for that. The best those old stories would do would make for excellent marketing.
The reason he cared for the Terran’s capture was its financial and social value- rich elites across the cosmos would pay handsomely for a Terran. For a pet, a bodyguard or a science experiment, it didn’t matter- Terrans were mysterious, and Ky’i could use that to his advantage.
In fact, the moment he had heard about the Terran (and confirmed its existence, because he’d be damned if he was tricked by some fool), he already had a buyer in mind- one who could pay quite the exorbitant price for a new plaything.
On top of that, where there was one Terran, there was likely to be more. And that meant more to sell, and thus more money to amass.
Hmm. What did one call a group of Terrans? A gaggle, or perhaps a troop?
Oh, what did it matter? To him, that group of Terrans may as well be an Aurite mine!
Combining that with the Chronosapling youngling he had found and Ky’i would soon have enough Aurites to fill a shuttle!
Now, how to celebrate? He could rent out a luxury liner ship like he had a couple eclipses ago and celebrate in style, but that was getting boring… The novelty had long worn off, and the prices that they charged were absolutely criminal!
Well, he’d have plenty of time to decide later, once he had checked on the new merchandise. He first had to check what he had to work with and how best to market it. That would all depend on who he was planning on selling them to and what they wanted from the Terran.
Of course, there was the matter of those UA mierdas to handle, but even that was good news! He could find some good use for such strong, talented beings- perhaps in the farms on Tato’in. The price of a’abica was rising after all, and what kind of business sense would allow him to not cash in on that?
Although, the report had said that there was a female cadet in the group’s midst, right? Perhaps Ky’i could be kind enough to find a different job for her. Hard labour didn’t suit a young girl like her, and Ky’i was nothing if not chivalrous. There was surely a place in the U’uscru entertainment district for her…
Come to think of it, if there was even a grain of truth to the rumours surrounding Terrans, perhaps it had mauled the cadets already.
His lips extended outwards into a wicked smile.
That would be the ideal situation: a strong, vicious Terran to sell off as a bodyguard to some no-name celebrity or shifty politician, and mangled body parts to ship off to UA as a lovely warning in body bags.
Two shuttles, one asteroid.
There was a reason that he had ordered all the other cells on the cargo shuttle to be cleared out and their occupants to be moved to another ship. Any good merchant could tell you that products had their highest value undamaged, and a Terran in close quarters with anything would lead to damaged goods and lower profits.
That would be unacceptable.
As a result, the shuttle was cleared out during the Nyx after the Terran had arrived, with a pair of brand new cargo shuttles waiting to escort the livestock to their new home.
Should he have also ordered the guards to separate the prisoners?
Ky’i brushed that thought aside as easily as it had snuck into his head. Of course not!
It was an unnecessary move that would only inconvenience them.
Whilst those UA scep-faces were probably stubborn and stupid enough to try to escape, they were stuck with a youngling and the Terran. Their bleeding hearts would force them to protect the youngling, which would slow them down and they probably couldn’t speak to the Terran, so even that was impossible.
And even if, by some shred of good fortune, they were able to make it out of their cell, he had posted a few guards around the ship. Not as many as he would have liked, but a majority of the force was needed to keep the other captives in check during transport.
In any case, he had no doubts that his elite guards could and would easily show those UA-holes their place if necessary.
There were risks, as with any business transaction- the reduction in the number of guards for one. However, Ky’i hadn't made it this far by being averse to taking risks, and this was no different.
And besides, if he separated the prisoners, he’d never get the chance to see what the Terran could do to them! He was having fun imagining the results, but he wanted to see them for himself and find out how brutal Terrans could be.
“Sir, docking is complete.”
The authoritative bark from the doorway snapped Ky’i from his thoughts, causing him to whip around and look at the being who had intruded on his personal time: a young, yet stern Zealarmet, donning their armour and a scarlet headband.
“I see.” Ky’i responded, “I’ll be straight down.”
And with that, he strutted proudly through the Hassakai, vividly imagining the cell and the new treasures that it surely contained.
------------
Arriving on the cargo shuttle, Ky’i couldn’t help but be unnerved by how quiet it was.
Normally, Ky’i didn’t mind quiet- it helped him to unwind after a long cycle of work, or to focus on his accounts. Silence itself could be utilised; weaponised to secure lucrative deals through intimidation tactics.
But this? This wasn’t the kind of easy quiet that he enjoyed; this was the kind of quiet that followed a storm, the kind where no-one was sure what to say or what to do except stare passively at the destruction and feel the burden of their powerlessness.
What had happened here?
The hangar bay itself seemed fairly untouched and as pristine as one would expect, and a less experienced being probably would have thought nothing of it.
However, he knew better.
The signs were all there: the hatch door leading to the hangar bay was still open, as was the outer hatch; the Engem engineers he had hired for maintenance were missing; and he could faintly see the shadow of a pointed tail peeking out from a storage closet.
And the biggest scepping clue, so blatantly obvious that it was almost a slap in the face, was the fact that the UA shuttle was no longer here.
An escape…
Ky’i growled, a terrible, guttural noise tearing out from within his throat and causing every guard and goon in the vicinity to flinch.
But Ky’i couldn't care any less about that- at that moment, only one thought dominated his mind:
They couldn’t have!
Storming over to the supply closet and yanking open the door, he stepped back as a pair of unconscious bodies collapsed from their precariously balanced position, allowing them to slam heavily to the ground. Each bald head was marked by a rather sizable lump, protruding obnoxiously from the vermillion spheres.
Stupid weaklings, getting blindsided like that.
Ky’i inhaled sharply, clenching his fist tightly. One of the first lessons his grandfather had taught him was that there was no place for anger in business- emotions clouded the mind, and it was much better to have a clear head and to remain rational.
Another glance at the empty hatch brought all that rage back, this time unbridled.
Damn whatever that old Mierda had to say; his grandfather was a sentimental fool.
“If somebody doesn’t find out and tell me what has happened here,” Ky’i spat out, “I am personally going to kill each and every one of you in the most painful way imaginable.”
(Ugh. He wasn’t one for cliched lines like that, but now wasn’t the time to stop and come up with new threats.)
His quivering voice was quiet, but it somehow still filled the room; almost deafening in the suffocating silence.
The noises of scrambling feet and hasty footsteps echoed throughout the shuttle as his goons tried to find someone, anyone left on the ship who could explain what had happened.
But it was all Ky’i could do to stand there somewhat intimidatingly and act like his entire mental castle hadn’t come crashing down all round him. His dreams, his money… all lost.
And all because of those UA mierdas. Why couldn’t they just stick to their damn place?
What to do… What to do…?
Ky’i tapped his foot against the ground impatiently, narrowing his eyes as he thought. He was a genius the likes this galaxy had never seen! Surely he could out-think some naive half-wits.
Whilst he was waiting for his incompetent underlings to get back (and really, was it that hard to find competent help?), he would have to consider all the information at hand.
He’d have to dump and wipe this cargo ship- the UA cadets would probably remember it and report back to the HSPC, meaning that there would be cadets looking out for it. That kind of attention was unneeded and bad for business.
Shame.
This shuttle was a good one and had made him significantly richer. However, he couldn’t have this kind of loose end lying around, only to trip him up in the future. Better to deal with it now than to have that.
Before that, when the guards came back, he would send a couple of them out to patrol the nearby areas and watch out for cadets- he couldn’t have them accidentally stumbling upon the Hassakai.
That would hopefully buy him enough time to extract the truth of exactly what happened from some of the guards onboard.
Then, it was only a matter of repaying an unwanted debt. Ky’i couldn’t let those upstarts make a damn idiot out of him. He would have his prize, and neither UA, nor the HSPC would stop him.
Yes… perhaps this was salvageable after all. He would have to call in a few favours, and perhaps spend a bit more than expected, but it would work. It always worked out in the end.
(For all his grandfather’s warnings about the vices of wrath, anger and spite made for damn good motivation.)
It wasn’t much later that his guards returned, with some of them dragging Saevulpines and Pipistratas behind them.
Good. Perhaps now he’d finally get some answers.
With a click of his fingers, he ordered his guards to line up the groggy, bloodied guards in front of him, watching emotionlessly his commands were carried out. When that was completed, he stepped forwards, and, having sent out a couple squadrons to patrol the nearby areas, addressed the gathered guards.
“I’m not going to ask this again- once should be more than enough. What happened? Where is the Terran?”
His question was met with silence and bowed heads. Not a single guard dared to speak up and say the obvious, some primitive danger sense clearly ringing in their heads.
Idiots, the lot of them.
They probably figured that whichever poor fool came clean was the one who would bear the brunt of the punishment, meaning that nobody would come forwards.
(In all honesty, that was a more than fair assessment.)
Ky’i sighed, before speaking again.
“I already told you I’m not asking again. Either you give me a response now, or I’ll force one out of you. And you know how hard it is to clean blood off the walls.”
Silence again.
Rubbing a hand down his face, Ky’i continued.
“Fine. Inaraka, if you would.”
An amorphous blob, toughened skin as dark as Nyx, slithered up to his side, rippling slightly as they did.
Jo’i Inaraka was the face of Ky’i’s operations, often left in charge of finalising the shadier deals, and, as such, was a being Ky’i greatly trusted. They were a natural swindler, much like Ky’i himself, and a master of disguise, making them an asset to the group. Due to their body lacking shape, Inaraka had to wear a costume and a mask whenever they went out, but even that was a boon, since no being outside of his business and most trusted allies knew what they looked like.
They truly were an essential part of the team.
Ky’i tutted to himself, before waving an appendage to and fro across the group, stopping randomly on a particularly bruised Saevulpine.
“Inaraka, put him in his place.”
And Inaraka wordlessly complied, quickly darting forwards and pinning the mentioned Saevulpine to the wall.
Despite not having bones, or a structured body like other beings, Inaraka moved frighteningly quickly, scampering and sliding across the floor. They also hit surprisingly hard for an amorphous being, as the Saevulpine came to find out.
One hit. Two hits. Three hits.
The Saevulpine remained trapped against the wall, arms pinned to his side, defenceless against the merciless assault, even as he struggled in vain to break free from the hold.
His jaw was the first to break, shattering with a horrifying crack, blood spewing out of the gaping hole and splattering against the floor.
Ugh. That was going to be a nightmare to clean up.
The guard spat at the ground, a white tooth flying free from the brute’s maw.
And clearly Inaraka saw this as an opportunity, as they then slammed into the guard’s stomach again, this time following up with a strike to the chest.
Their elastic body allowed them to pull back for punches without moving at all, gathering force and momentum without ever letting up the absolute barrage of attacks, coiling up further each time to add extra force to each devastating blow.
Yet another reason that they were an asset to the team and one of Ky’i’s preferred goons.
“I yield! I yield!”
The Saevulpine’s anguished cries for mercy finally shifted into ones of surrender. Inaraka looked back at their boss, their pin-prick pupils asking whether they should let up the attack.
Ky’i waved a hand dismissively and Inaraka dropped the guard, who crashed to the ground, slumping against the wall in pain, blood still trickling from his maw. Smirking slightly, Ky’i stepped forwards until he was towering over the brute.
“Now then. What do you know?”
“Ve UA brats eshkaped wif ve Chronoshapling and ve Derran.”
Ky’i tutted once more, his smirk darkening into something a touch more taunting and mocking.
“Oh, I had already surmised all that. Is there truly nothing else that you know? I’d be heartbroken if that were the case…”
And perfectly on cue, Inaraka lurched forwards, dropping their weight onto the Saevulpine’s stomach and causing him to yelp in pain.
“Mnot done! It was ve Derran. It vought back de mosht.”
Dammit! Why? Why had the most valuable gem across the cosmos just fallen into his lap and then somehow vanished? His expression shifted into pure anger once again.
“Who the scep was in charge of them!? And where were they being kept”
The Saevulpine guard spat out another glob of blood, before answering.
“Shuzhitsu vas ve one in charge of vem, b-but ve haven’t seen her. A-And I dink dey were rin de shell closhesht do ve kitchens…”
That was enough information for now. Ky’i straightened his back and turned to face the grunts.
“Alright. All of you, start cleaning. I don’t want a single print or gene to be left behind. Scrub it top to bottom! Then, get everything ready to dump the ship. Nothing left behind, got it?”
Furious nodding followed, so Ky’i took off to find the Zealarmet, Inaraka following close behind.
Scepping dammit! They had lost the UA cadets, the Chronosapling and the Terran. Even worse, the Terran was apparently perfect for marketing: strong, volatile and vicious.
Damn it all!
There was no time to lose his cool or unleash his rage at the moment. He had to assess the damage and fix the situation. No matter what, he needed that Terran back. He turned to his comrade.
“Mimeyk, contact the Bullets and tell them to get their scep together. We’re meeting next cycle to discuss this. Then get in touch with that new gang. Let them know that I’m willing to strike a deal with them.”
The amorphous being saluted and took off down a long series of corridors.
Good. The Bullets would probably be enough on their own, but it wasn’t just about the Terran any more. Ky’i wanted to send a message.
And if he had to broker a truce with Shigraacki to do that, so be it.
Ky’i lived by a simple rule when it came to his wares- anything goes, except longlasting or irreversible damage. It made their value drop instantly, and that was unacceptable.
But, just this once, perhaps OverHaul could make an exception.
Notes:
And that's a wrap! OverHaul is an interesting character in the manga, but obviously his ambitions and reasons don't really work here. Therefore, I tried to make him a little different- an arrogant smuggler who just wants money.
Hope you enjoyed and see you all in the next one!
Chapter 6: Amongst the stars
Summary:
Back on board the UA training shuttle, Izuku finally wakes up.
Notes:
Umm... So this is awkward... I guess I'm back?
All rights to My Hero Academia go to Kohei Horikoshi. Please support the official releases!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Unconsciousness was weird, Izuku decided.
From all the various depictions of it in movies and the like, he had kind of expected (or rather, he had hoped) that there would be some kind of montage of his greatest achievements, like how people often said that their lives flashed before their eyes in near-death experiences.
Granted, there probably wouldn’t be anything particularly impressive to see, considering how his boring life was (or rather had been).
But still, it would have been interesting to see some of the cooler moments of his life- like finally receiving his brown belt in karate from a dojo that the legendary astronaut Yagi Toshinori himself established.
Or winning his second copy of Yagi Toshinori’s autographed biography in an online auction, after staying up all night in a fierce bidding war that robbed him of his hard-earned pocket money and, in the process, forgetting to do his homework for Ms Manabi; a huge mistake that he would proceed to make over and over again.
Or perhaps even that old interview featuring Yagi Toshinori, talking about his exploits in space and the rigorous training that he had put himself through to “go beyond, Plus Ultra!” as he had so eloquently put it.
(Okay, so maybe he was a bit of a fanboy for Yagi Toshinori- sue him!)
Actually, with his notoriously bad luck, he would have probably ended up seeing all those times he fell over whilst practising a kick, or something else equally embarrassing.
So, perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t have to relive his most embarrassing moments for what would have certainly felt like an eternity.
In any case, instead of any flashbacks or memories, there was nothing: not even inky darkness or a deep, dark void- nothing at all.
It was more similar to a deep, dreamless sleep, except Izuku couldn’t remember going to sleep, or anything that had happened prior, like an old black and white movie, but with a short segment snipped out from the middle of the reel.
So, on second thought, it was really nothing like a deep sleep…
But, in any case- really, really weird.
Attempting to force his eyes open, Izuku tried to regain his bearings, hoping that actually seeing his surroundings would jog his memory slightly.
But, as the sharp lights burned with vindictive glee into his innocent eyes, he immediately regretted his poor decision, screwing his eyelids shut once more and curling up into himself to hide from the pain, throwing his arms over his face.
Shit… That really hurt!
A series of sudden, gruff, and, most annoyingly, loud warbles and grunts drew his attention and ire, helpfully reminding Izuku that he- for the first time in a while- had company.
Loud, obnoxious, infuriating company that, for some god-forsaken reason, refused to SHUT UP!
Lurching suddenly, Izuku pushed himself upright, fighting off the ensuing headache in the process, feeling his entire body scream and curse at him for his clearly horrible decision making.
And slammed face-first into a wall of thin, yet oddly solid material, mottled with stray, damp lengths of fur, causing a flurry of long strands of hair to fly up his nose and into his mouth, followed by a rush of what could only be described as a veterinarian’s nightmare.
Eww…Gross…
(Not that Izuku had any space to judge- showers weren’t exactly commonplace facilities in space jungles or prisons, after all.)
Having wiped away at most of the fur that now flecked his face, Izuku, sneezing and spluttering all the while, finally mustered the ability to open his eyes.
Only to be confused by the looming figure of a giant, black cat-man-thing hovering over him like a worried mother.
What the fu-
Catman (as Izuku had imaginatively named him in his head) was tall and lean, with dishevelled black strands of fur running down his face like braids, barely tickling the top of his shredded, burned, deep blue jumpsuit and pointing towards a large white logo that Izuku somehow couldn’t read.
How he couldn’t read a picture was beyond him, but if his brain didn’t have the processing power to decipher a picture, then Izuku reasoned that the answer to that mystery wouldn’t be found any time soon.
Four amber eyes glinted from the midst of the messy tangle, sharp intelligence gleaming in each, as they scanned him from top to bottom, taking in each aspect of Izuku’s bruised, battered and beaten form.
On top of his head, two tufted ears poked out from the mess, swivelling like RADAR dishes, in what had to be the weirdest, and yet still somewhat adorable, juxtaposition Izuku had ever seen.
If Izuku were to be honest with himself, he really wanted to stroke Catman’s fur and see if they would react like Earth cats. Would they purr? Or were they more like cheetahs and couldn’t? Would it be rude? Perhaps, but the urge to pet and scratch the feline being’s head was almost insatiable. The fear of being sliced by a scaled-up claw was the only thing holding him back at this point, but even that was slowly degrading in the face of a giant, slightly mangy, bipedal cat.
He had always wanted a cat at home, but unfortunately had never been allowed- something or other about the rules at their apartment.
(Home… Where even was that anymore…)
The stray thought was enough to bring him to tears, not that that was really an achievement these days, liquid pooling in his eyes and blurring his vision with an achingly familiar sensation and forcing him to raise an arm, despite his arm’s various protests and squeals of pain, and dab away at his eyes.
(Oh… Was that a bandage on his arm? When did that get there? Had Catman put it on? That was nice of them, but why?)
As he did that, he caught a vague glimpse of Catman stepping back slightly, before tilting his head backwards and chattering at a pair of smaller, seemingly younger beings, one of whom was flying the ship, frighteningly large, blood-stained claws rapping against the wheel impatiently, the other fiddling with a holographic display that Izuku couldn’t quite make out.
Who were these people?
People? Could he call them that, or was that speciesist? Was it better or worse than calling them Catman, Komodo Boy and Biblically Inaccurate Angel? That last one was too long, he’d have to think of a shorter one… Bird Girl? No, that was just demeaning…
Dammit Izuku, FOCUS! This was not the time to be considering the ethics of nicknames!
Okay, one thing at a time- what was the last thing he remembered?
That would be escaping a space trafficking ring with Catman, Komodo Boy, Hawk Girl (ehh.. Still not quite right), and a baby bipedal plant that really liked him for some reason.
OH GOD, PLANT BABY!
Where were they? Had they made it out? He really hoped so; jail was no place for a baby and they were really cute and sweet, even if they looked kinda strange and raised so many questions- like how they ate, or if they photosynthesised instead and what adult sentient plant beings looked like and…
Not the time! Where were they? (it? Did aliens differentiate genders? Speaking of, what were alien civilisations like and oh God what was he talking about?)
Oh- there they were.
Snuggled up to his legs, furled up with their tiny leaf stem drooped over their eyes like a blanket to shield them from the dim tube lighting, was the little plant-being who had almost given him multiple heart attacks.
Aww- Plant Baby really was adorable, but that couldn’t be comfortable for them. Ignoring the thumping in his head, he bent over to pick them up and…
A low menacing growl echoed throughout the ship, hairs springing up all the way down Izuku’s neck, and Izuku froze.
Catman, eyes now gleaming a malicious crimson, towered over him once again, this time more reminiscent of a demon straight from Hell. The fur above their collar puffed up, and sharp claws glinted from their paws like knives, finally unsheathed and ready to kill.
Izuku immediately backed away from the baby, arms flying away from them (and ow, that really hurt- no more sudden moves in the future), internally sighing with relief when the red faded from Catman’s eyes and the being huffed, narrowed eyes still fixated on their prey.
So the aliens did not trust Izuku with the baby for whatever reason.
On the one hand, it seemed like the similarities between Catman and domestic cats ran deeper than just appearances. On the other, the distrust hurt.
(To be entirely fair to the aliens, he definitely would not trust himself with a baby of any species, but still… Ouch!)
Had he done something to offend them? Had he broken some cosmic house rule? Or did he just look shady? He didn’t think so; people usually told him he had the face of a large, overgrown baby, but maybe intergalactic opinions differed?
Come to think of it, Eagirl (okay, that one warranted an apology on behalf of the entirety of planet Earth) hadn’t wanted him around the baby at first, and had been surprised when he gave them the taser, like they were expecting him to stick it into them instead… Had he been too violent on the guards?
He remembered being really pissed off at them and their brutality towards him and his cellmates, and wanting to help save Plant Baby (damn his hero complex). Wasn’t that normal though? Catman and Komodo Boy had fought the guards off as well, and Bird Girl (wait, he’d tried that one already, hadn’t he?) had seemed pretty proficient with the raygun that now sat comfortably in the holster now adorning their waist (or whatever the anatomical term aliens used was).
So why were the aliens so nervous around him?
Oh wait… Was this because of the Invasion of the One-Eyed Space Minotaurs?
(And why; why couldn’t the first ever interaction between extraterrestrial life and humanity, that led to a global freaking war, be immortalised and remembered by something cooler, and not by something that sounded like an indie video game from the 20th Century?)
As far as he remembered (in other words, from a documentary led and produced by Yagi Toshinori), it all started when, 30 years ago, an enormous fleet of ships, large enough to blot out the Sun for a moment, entered the upper atmosphere and registered on RADARs across the world. How did the documentary go again? Oh yeah, if he was remembering it correctly, it went something like…:
They first landed in North Africa (and not in downtown New York, like every Hollywood movie would have you believe) , with ‘they’ being the army of blue, thick-skinned, one-eyed minotaurs from space, armed to the teeth with laser guns; electrified clubs; and giant, flying ships. They made for a terrifying sight, as any of the precious few traumatised survivors of the initial clash would testify.
In all honesty though, to call it a clash would have been a vast overstatement- the space minotaurs wasted no time at all in wreaking havoc across the desert, taking lives as easily as they breathed, as though it was for sport, rather than for bloody genocide. They neither plundered any cities, nor took any prisoners of war- their sole focus was total annihilation.
Some of their forces headed South, to further devastate the African diaspora, whilst others went North, spreading carnage across Italy, Spain and Portugal.
Newspapers at the time supposedly declared that the apocalypse was nigh, whilst some more religious groups believed that the Day of Judgement had finally come. Tabloids reported that several plutocrats were apparently setting up funds and plans to head into space, in the slim hope of escaping what seemed like the inevitable destruction of Earth, though the veracity of those claims would never be discussed again. The body count rose, and rose, and rose, soaring higher and higher over the course of a few days, with no sign of reprieve in sight- all hope had faded into oblivion.
Then, against all odds, a miracle happened: Earth chose to band together.
As it turned out, humans, despite being extraordinarily bad at it, could, in fact, work together. In the face of impending death, doom and destruction, humanity realised that small things like skin colour or sexuality meant very, very little to significantly more advanced beings who wanted only to enslave and destroy.
As it also turned out, humans hated anyone messing with their stuff very much, and that included hostile intruders from outer space.
Forces, weapons and money flooded in from across the globe, with each world leader vowing to lend everything they had to end the fight. Billionaires poured their enormous funds into a new military, one that pledged their allegiance not to any individual country, but to the planet they all called home. With that, the United Forces of Earth was founded, a peacekeeping organisation under the banner of Gaia, who’s first job would be war.
The space minotaurs would soon learn how effective anything could be in a war, whether designed as a weapon or a tool. After all, reinforced hulls did very little to protect against laser cutters; and, whilst hardly practical for a war, home-made Molotov cocktails were almost a staple. Human ingenuity found a way to weaponise nearly anything possible or even imaginable.
Human ingenuity would also be stretched as far as possible behind the front lines- medics from across the world were flown to the battlefields to keep as many soldiers in the fight as possible. Once upon a time, the aim would have been to simply keep them alive and breathing, but, in this particular war, with the invaders searching for any opening to exploit, the ugly truth was that a soldier could have a limb blown off, and then still be expected to fight the next day. Those were dreadful times for everyone involved indeed.
To push this premise even further, billionaires chose to invest into the research and development of prosthetics as well: limbs that could function with the same responsiveness as human ones; photoreceptors that could replace damaged retinas; exoskeletons for stronger, faster regiments of infantry units.
That being said, the blood of soldiers, medics and innocent civilians alike were all still being spilt. One such soldier was American pilot Cathleen Bate, who sacrificed her life to push back the invaders’ front line, and give allies a chance to see another sunrise. Her and so many others, who gave their lives in the line of action to boldly protect others, would all be given posthumous awards after the end of the war.
As more space minotaurs were captured, their technology was taken apart and examined; disassembled and reassembled over and over again. Any and all weaknesses in the alien weaponry and power armours were scrutinised, shared and exploited. Earth would eventually learn that the space minotaurs were slightly top heavy, due to the size of the aliens’ vestigial horns. Whilst the invaders had tried to compensate for this with their armour, there was a weakness to exploit, and the soldiers took it with glee.
The alien technology was soon re-appropriated, and the United Forces of Earth would then be equipped with their own fleets of flying ships, power armours and siege weapons.
The space minotaurs were cut back near immediately, with the whole planet working overtime to keep the military running. The United Forces of Earth soon took back most of the African diaspora, pushing the aliens further and further North, with unprecedented win after unprecedented win. Humanity’s ingenuity and sheer overwhelming relentlessness was pushing back the tides of invaders.
Romantic poets would later say that even Mother Earth herself fought against the invaders who would dare to harm her wards, since, as the front lines of war pushed even further back towards the Russian tundras in December, a biting winter descended upon the lands. The United Forces of Earth, ready and prepared for the cold with supply lines and proper shelter, were able to survive the freezing weeks, whilst the intruders were not so lucky, and their numbers soon dropped rapidly.
(Personally, Izuku thought that that was a step too far, but he couldn’t really blame anyone for getting excited.)
Eventually, the alien forces had been decimated, the few survivors fleeing from the planet, and Earth happy to let them. After all, the war was over; as was humanity’s interaction with space.
But really, as Yagi Toshinori would later muse in that very documentary, that was only the beginning, the inciting incident of humanity’s second ascent to the stars; “the return of the prodigal children”, as he put it..
Amongst the technology that had been left behind or looted from alien corpses, was new knowledge; knowledge of how to modify entire atmospheres and planets to better suit life- the ability to terraform entire planets. Combined with the new ships that had been adjusted for hyperspeed travel, the possibility of forming a colony and moving planets had finally been awoken. Dreams were slowly becoming reality and everyone on Earth, young and old, was excited for it.
(Especially, in Izuku’s eyes, because that was the beginning act of one Yagi Toshinori.)
And that led to one of the most exciting events in modern history- humans going back to the moon and terraforming it. The work was slow and arduous, with each update reaching Earth being received with massive excitement and celebration. As humans became more adept at terraforming, progress sped up, with engineers and astronauts refining the process to make it more and more efficient every time.
Eventually, by the turn of the decade the moon had been completely terraformed; plants growing across the moon’s surface; a breathable atmosphere formed completely. The moon had become the first space colony (of hopefully many) and was now inhabitable, becoming the first foothold into the cosmos; a stepping stone into the wider community. As a testament to all the work that been done and to all that had been achieved, the moon was officially renamed Faunus, after the Roman God of the wilds; a fitting name for the new colony that soon would become Earth’s breadbasket.
At the time that documentary first aired, Izuku remembered that Mars was set to be terraformed as well, as were its two moons- Phobos and Deimos. Over the better part of the next decade, the three were converted into the first intergalactic military base- after all, if there was anything that humans understood, it was that conflict was inevitable.
(But wasn’t that so cool? A secret stronghold in space that so few ever visited: it was like an intergalactic Area 51!)
Unfortunately, the process of terraforming Phobos came at a massive cost- the loss of Yagi Toshinori. The world at large had mourned the loss of the celebrated astronaut, with Izuku himself being nearly inconsolable for months on end afterwards. At the time, it had felt like the entire world had stopped; everyone had loved Yagi and his work.
The story eventually broke though tabloids that he had gone missing suddenly, and, after days of searching to no avail, he had been declared MIA and assumed dead- an ignoble end to the story of such a noble man, in Izuku’s eyes.
At around the same time, travelling through space to visit the newly founded colony planets had become so cheap and easy, that space tourism had become the new hot commodity. Vloggers and influencers had made holidays in space seem so attractive and novel that their popularity rose immediately, however warranted that rise was…
Ugh, and there went his positivity; just the thought of people gallivanting into space as though it was the pinnacle of safety made him feel sick, bringing the noxious taste of bile to the back of his mouth.
A sharp tug on his leg drew his attention, snapping him out of his daydreams. The scenery outside the ship had changed- instead of the asteroid field that he remembered them passing through, the sky around them was much clearer, all pretty turquoises and pinks, distant stars dotting the sky like errant specks of glitter. All in all, a wondrous picture, one that Izuku could never have imagined seeing in person.
Though it did raise the questions of how long he had zoned out for and where they were going. And were they nearly there yet?
But anyways, none of that was important at the moment: looking instinctively downwards, he noticed that Plant Baby was awake at last!
Finally! That had to mean they were okay, right?
Plant Baby’s eyes were wide, staring up at him almost unblinkingly, much like a human baby would; green vines wrapped around his leg, slowly climbing up it and gripping tighter around his calf; their little leaf stem softly glowed, not very brightly, but enough to shine in the moderate darkness of the poorly-lit shuttle.
Wait, had they said something?
Yep, they had, Izuku soon realised, as a stream of shrill clicks, whistles and growls swiftly came to an end, punctuated with a cute tilt of the head and an inquisitive stare.
Unfortunately for Plant Baby, he didn’t catch a word of that, and, even if he had, he didn’t speak Alien. Damn…
Eyes quickly flicking up to check for Catman (who was fortunately occupied at the front of the shuttle) to avoid incurring their wrath again, Izuku shook his head at her and whispered, “I don’t know what you’re saying”. Hopefully that would tide them over until he could pick up a translator or something.
(Were there even translators that would work in Japanese, or would they default to English? His English was serviceable at best, but it was better than communicating purely through charades and crude drawings for the rest of his venture.)
However, the sentient sapling did not seem satisfied with that, if their squinted eyes and pursed lips were anything to go by. Did aliens emote in the same way as humans? Or did they react differently to the same emotions? Did they-
“Eri.”
What was that? A short, simple, almost curt amalgamation of warbles and whistles broke Izuku’s train of thought, echoing around his ears. Was that from Plant Baby?
“Eeeeeeerrrriiii”
This time, Izuku paid close attention as the little plant-being enunciated whatever word they were saying, each click slow and deliberate, as long, vine-like limbs unfurled from his legs and pointed towards themselves, vibrating softly as they hung in the air.
Okay, so it was definitely from Plant Baby. And whatever they were saying seemed important, and was referring to themselves, if the vines were any indication…
Was that their name? It seemed likely, if the wide, almost pleading eyes were any indication of how desperate they were for him to understand. Izuku mouthed the name a couple times before trying to sound it out.
“E-erih…”
His faint mumble drew everyone’s attention almost immediately, Plant Baby’s (or rather, Eri’s) eyes widening even further than before, a smile splitting across her face; Catman, Komodo Boy, and the avian alien (nicknames could come later, he couldn’t think of one now) snapping their heads back in shock. Was that good or bad?
‘Only one way to find out’, he supposed. Izuku gulped, exhaled, then took a deep breath in.
“Eri,” he finally spoke, pointing at the sapling, who now seemed overjoyed. Their leaf had started to glow a little brighter, soothing warmth emanating from it.
If the other beings on board were looking at him in confusion, he didn’t notice- his attention was solely captivated by the innocence on Eri’s face (Cotyledon? Body? What was alien anatomy like?)
Oh right! He hadn’t introduced himself yet, had he? How rude of him.
Jabbing a finger in his own face, he hastily added, “Izuku!”
And with that, Eri’s eyes lit up even further, their mouth trying to contort to say his name, struggling with it for a while, before looking up at him, and attempting to say it.
“Eezhu’uku!”
Okay, so it wasn’t a great attempt… Still, it was close! Kinda…
(Was that what his name would sound like using alien naming conventions? Interesting.)
Shaking his head slightly, he repeated his name, slowing down lightly and pulling his lips wide, emphasising each and every syllable.
Eri seemed slightly put out at that, but still determined to get it right.
“Eezhukhu.”
This was going to take a while, wasn’t it?
It took several more cycles of them trying to say his name, and him correcting it, but eventually, Eri was able to say it, bouncing slightly and giggling in their excitement, as they repeated Izuku’s name over and over like a mantra.
Excitedly, they waved a vine over in Catman’s direction, almost poking them in the face, yelling “Aiizwa! Aiizwa!”
Chuckling to himself and caught up in Eri’s enthusiasm, Izuku obliged, pointing at the feline being and repeating their name back, causing Eri to trill excitedly.
Catman, or Aiizwa as Izuku now knew, seemed a lot less excited at that- more confused and shocked than anything, which, fair: if Eri, Aiizwa and the other two started speaking Japanese out of nowhere, he’d be pretty shocked too.
But that wasn’t important at the moment- seeing Eri smile was!
Speaking of, the dancing Eri was gleaming, both figuratively and literally- their leafy stem was now radiating a lot of light and heat, drowning out the darkness and making Izuku feel slightly queasy. Was that just the sudden heat, or were his injuries getting to him again?
A throbbing sensation took over his head, as spots flickered in his vision. His left arm tingled and Izuku had the strangest desire to tear off the bandage and scratch away.
What was going on?
Through his fading vision, Izuku could faintly see that the scratches and burns he had earned in space prison were sealing shut before his eyes… How was that even possible?
And, as Aiizwa lunged towards him, pulling away with Eri in their arms, Izuku almost missed the look of concerned fright on their face (muzzle?), and the surprise on Eri’s.
And with that, the world went dark.
Notes:
So, it's been almost a year since I last updated this... Sorry about that- a lot's been happening: exams, assignments, a crane falling into my neighbour's apartment (that was an interesting day- not as loud as I would have expected.)
The other thing that stopped me from updating was severe writer's block. Part of it was because I hate writing filler, but also, Izuku (or at least my interpretation of him) is just a stupidly hard character to write for me. He just thinks so much, and goes on long tangents so often, so that was challenging. I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, but I had to upload at some point, and I can't just keep writing and deleting forever.
One other thing, the part in italics is part of something new I'm considering. If it's not clear (and please do let me know if it's not, I really want to improve), it's not Izuku's internal narrative- it's Yagi Toshinori's. I've tried to make it different enough, but feedback would be great! This is kind of a test run for an idea I had, so any points would be much appreciated!
Thank you all for reading so much- I really appreciate all of you!
Chapter 7: In times of peace
Summary:
Aiizwa tries to fix his mistakes, has a breakdown, contemplates murder, and finally gets some damn a'abica.
Not necessarily in that order.
Notes:
Hi? So I've actually been sitting on this one for a while, but was never fully satisfied with this and life has been keeping me on my toes. I've finally had the time to upload this chapter, and take some time to myself, so here you go! Happy Holidays!
All rights to My Hero Academia go to Kohei Horikoshi. Please support the official releases!
Chapter Text
Sho’a Aiizwa sighed.
He had always hated board meetings: the stuffy room that caused the fur around his shoulders to puff out around the collar of his now ruined uniform (he'd have to get another one soon- he refused to use one of Hiza’ahi's sparkly eye-sores); the uncomfortable chairs that forced him to sit on his tail slightly; the insufferably smug smirks plastered on the board members’ faces, so arrogant and self-serving that it made him want to sink his claws into their faces and tear their grins off, one by one.
Sho’a sighed again, this one more protracted and exasperated than that last, dropping his chin into his paw.
As much fun and satisfying as slowly clawing their bloated faces into bloody shreds would have been, something told him that H’zahi wouldn’t approve. Besides, this wasn’t an ordinary board meeting- the High Public Space Commission had also sent representatives to this meeting.
What fun.
In Sho’a’s humble opinion, there was nowhere near enough a’abica on board UA’s mothership for any of this scep.
“All I’m saying is, UA cannot be responsible for this… this… monstrosity!”, a board member (not that Sho’a cared who) claimed, spitting out the final word with as much vitriol as possible.
Oh great- they were still talking.
Why was he even still here? He had delivered his report on Eri, Izuku, and OverHaul; both Nezu and the HSPC had promised to search for the other captives and the shuttle that OverHaul was using (though the cynic in Sho’a very much doubted that, if it was found, there would be anything of use on it- experience told him that a trafficker as experienced as OverHaul wouldn’t leave any evidence behind); and that should have been the end of his duties.
So again, what was he still doing here?
“On that I must agree.” One of the Commission's representatives piped up, “It must be contained safely, away from other beings. The HSPC would be more than able to store and quarantine it…”
Hadn’t this been discussed already? Or had Sho’a hallucinated the past Or’a? By this point, he had gone long enough without rest or a’abica that either were possible.
“And UA wouldn’t?” Nezu interrupted, “As the top academy for future cadets, UA has more than enough space to hold him, as well as some of the strongest and brightest cadets from across the cosmos to contain him, should the need arise. And, in any case, should we not, first and foremost, seek contact with the Terrans, so that the child can be returned?”
Ahh. The crux of is cycle’s illogical reason for Sho’a going without sleep- deciding whether or not the injured Terran child should go home. What idiotic reason could anyone have to not let the Terran leave if that’s what they wanted…
According to UA’s personal medic Shuzhenii, the Terran they had found and brought to UA was, based on their physiology, a child.
A youngling!
When Sho’a had first heard, he thought that he’d received brain trauma from the fights in OverHaul’s shuttle- the being that tore through wave after wave of enemies with barely a scent of fear or remorse was a youngling? How?
It (No, they. The very least he could do was accept Izuku as a sentient being worthy of respect and acknowledge all of their efforts) was apparently roughly the age of Ka’azki, O’ako and their batch of wannabe cadets, or was at a similar stage in their lifecycle development.
That only made their efforts even more admirable and impressive. It also made their injuries and reckless behaviour that much more worrying, but Shuzhenii promised him that the Terran would be fine.
At the very least, they would be fine with respect to their injuries being treated; truthfully, Sho’a very much doubted you could magically fix a Terran’s innate desire to leap head first into danger as easily.
Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, a small part of him reasoned that if a Terran youngling could do such damage to hardened traffickers, what could a trained adult do?
The more rational majority of his brain slammed that side of him back into submission- that crisis could be had later, when weakness was a valid option. Hopefully over several mugs of a’abica, or perhaps even something stronger.
Unfortunately, unlike normal, his emotional side came back almost immediately, demanding to know why he had been so unnecessarily callous towards someone who had clearly been a frightened youngling, someone who he had a duty to protect.
He didn’t have an answer to that, instead feeling the guilt and shame gnaw away at his innards like starved Rattenkin.
Stunned silence filled the room, with no-one wanting to be the poor fool to break it- after all, how would one argue against returning a child to their home?
“Are we sure that it is a youngling?” One board member postulated, “How does Shuzhenii know for certain that Terrans aren’t simply short, or that this Terran in particular isn’t merely short?”
The conglomerated group descended into hushed mutters. Clearly the point raised had drawn some approval.
Stupid, unwarranted approval, considering Shuzhenii was the best damn medic across the cosmos and was hardly ever wrong (and even that was a stretch), but approval nonetheless.
As calm as ever, Nezu raised an appendage (or was it a paw? What did Nezu have?) to call for silence, before speaking in his usual calculated manner.
“Although you are indeed correct to raise that, I can fortunately say that your concerns are unwarranted. I can assure you that I also have cause to believe that the Terran is a youngling.”
His claim rested heavily in the air, with the already thick atmosphere not yielding whatsoever.
Aiizwa supposed that if anyone was to be blindly trusted on this, it would be Nezu: the being that at least seemed to have precognitive abilities and had been part of the group that had been first sent to repair the relationship with Terrans and invite them into the wider fold.
Perhaps it was his experience showing? Or just his uncanny ability to know seemingly everything.
Sho’a wouldn’t be surprised either way. He also wouldn’t be asking for or getting an answer any time soon, with his boss being such a secretive-
“Nezu,” another board member started, before halting, raising a gnarled claw to her maw in thought. “It’s not just that UA may not be able to handle its… ferocity, for lack of a better term. Even if UA was equipped for this, do you truly think that it would be accepted here? And what of the other students? When news spreads of it being here, everyone will talk. UA as an institution may not survive such a scandal. Nor if the Terrans heard about it and chose to come here. Handing it over to the HSPC would be the logical course of action.”
Sho’a cocked his head to the side, an ear flattening to his scalp. That was a truly illogical point of view. Nezu may enjoy dismantling such terrible lines of arguments like they were the local trading laws, but to Sho’a it was simply a waste of time.
In UA’s long and illustrious tenure as the leading intergalactic academy for cadets and other valued positions in society, there had been many decisions that left the board and wider society convinced that UA would finally collapse.
First and foremost was the principal himself. Nezu wasn’t a traditional name in the slightest, nor was it his real name; NEZU was the codename for an experiment done many cycles ago. In a raid done by several high-ranking cadets, it was found that a small group of scientists were attempting to create a super-being, with Project NEZU being the only success.
(Why the group of clearly intelligent- if amoral- scientists thought that some bizarre, unknown species similar in size and appearance to the Rattenkin was the perfect base for the hyper-intelligent ultimate lifeform of their dreams was a question that Aiizwa would always have, and would never ask: he valued his life too much for that.)
Thus, Nezu being appointed as a teacher at UA, and eventually as the principal, was unfathomable. The board had clamoured, and the public had been none too pleased either. However, UA remained strong, in spite of (or perhaps it would be more accurate to say because of) the new Principal Nezu.
Several of the teachers were supposed scandals in the making as well- the academy’s emotional councillor, a former UA cadet named Inu R’uu, was a Saevulpine, a species known for their strength, anger and not much else. They were widely regarded as cruel and sadistic brutes, so many had said that he would create chaos and instil a doctrine of violence amongst the new cadets. Instead, Inu R’uu was the perfect councillor and UA marched on.
Even he was first scorned by pupils and public alike for the same general reasons as Inu- bigotry. Students claimed that a Venefeline couldn’t support them well enough, whilst the general public, having seen too many Venefelines becoming assassins, protested that he would corrupt the young, impressionable minds. Instead, he had become one of the academy’s top instructors, stern yet widely respected, and UA still reigned supreme.
So yes: UA’s reputation could take a hit- scep it could take a hit from the Endevo’r and still be more than fine. It had done so in the past and would continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Any argument otherwise was truly illogical and a waste of everyone’s scepping time.
Bigots, idiots and rumour mongers had existed long before intergalactic communication was a thing, and would continue to exist well into the future- it wasn’t UA’s responsibility to control how they thought, or to bend to their inane desires.
He’d much prefer to leave that to the HSPC.
(Or to Nezu. It was a pretty open secret that a majority of the media lined their bank accounts with aurites from Nezu’s seemingly unending stash. Whatever. Far above his pay grade and not his concern. No-one could prove it anyways and Nezu was always evasive on the topic at best.)
What was more likely was that the UA board didn’t want to have to deal with the monetary costs involving a Terran, and would much prefer to throw the Terran as far away as possible; and the HSPC wanted to see what made Terrans so hardy and battle-ready, as well as holding some leverage over the Terran Union. As a more covert cadet, he often dabbled in rumours and urban legends; and the rumours surrounding the HSPC had never been… flattering, to put it tactfully, especially those concerning-
Wait a tick. Why was the room silent? (Not that his ears didn’t appreciate the relief from all their incessant whining.)
The first star fell when he realised that the entire meeting room was looking at him, mostly scandalised, but with an approving look stemming from Nezu.
That was never a good sign.
(Though, it had to be said that scandalising the bureaucrats, whilst unprofessional, was almost disturbingly satisfying.)
The second star fell when he realised that his mouth was ajar, and he could hear the slight echo from his voice bouncing around in the cramped room.
Ah scep. Had he said all of that out loud? How tired was he to not notice that?
Apparently, the answer was a resounding yes, since his boss decided to pick up where he had left off and finish demolishing the councils’ varying arguments.
“As Aiizwa has said, UA is more than equipped to handle the backlash from this decision. In my opinion, the best course of action would be to allow the child to decide where he goes- whether that be back to his home planet, or here at UA. And with that, I believe we can end this meeting.”
That seemed to end any and all debate, with everyone present seeming discontent, but forced to let matters drop.
Reluctant admissions of agreement followed, then the scraping of chairs and the usual pleasantries and social niceties that no-one ever meant and Sho’a himself would much rather ignore and leave to Nezu, thank you very much.
Shaking away the stiffness and fatigue and finally leaving the room with nary a “Thank you for your time” or “Safe travels”, Sho’a could only hope that the little Terran was still asleep. As he was well aware, there was nothing quite as disorienting and frightening as waking up in an unfamiliar environment.
And if they had woken up, well, all Sho’a could hope for was that some eldritch force took pity on them all.
Walking down the winding corridors that led away from the conference room, he had ample time to think about what to do in the scenario that Izuku did wake up and plan ahead.
Izuku was currently in the mothership’s infirmary, being attended to by Shuzhenii herself, which was a big deal in its own right: after all, most patients would be seen by a much more junior medic.
But this wasn’t most patients, was it?
That was only proved further by the guards that were posted outside the infirmary door: two supplied by the HSPC, a pair of cadets trained by the HSPC themselves who now ranked as two of the ten current Captains; and Hiza’ahi, a cadet who also taught at UA and a talented fighter in his own right (even if his boisterous personality was annoying at times).
Three highly skilled cadets, standing outside to keep an eye on one injured, currently unconscious youngling. In any other scenario, Sho’a would laugh and call that an excessive waste of resources, then make some sardonic comment on bureaucracy and its various inefficiencies.
(But he had seen what Izuku could do under duress, under worse conditions.)
The problem was that none of that really addressed the issue though: the unfamiliar environment and the stress it would cause on a frightened youngling.
Wouldn’t that be a pleasant way to wake: alone, in an unfamiliar hospital bed, three strange beings looming over you…
What to do… What to do…?
Well, the obvious solution was to provide some form of familiarity to anchor them, but what could remind the Terran youngling of a planet that no-one else knew much about, other than rumours of savagery and beasts?
He very much doubted that they wanted to hear what most beings had to say about Terrans. Knowing that most of the galaxy feared your species for something outside of your control and considered them reviled brutes, unworthy of basic dignity or respect?
(Well, Sho’a could certainly empathise with that, couldn’t he?)
Okay, no time to unpack that… What would soothe Izuku when he finally regained consciousness? Something familiar, something reassuring, something…
Or perhaps someone…
Eri!
As far as he could tell, Izuku had bonded with the little Chronosapling over the course of the last few cycles, despite his best efforts to keep them apart.
(Because of course the Terran’s stubbornness wouldn’t be limited to fighting.)
Eri had quite clearly taken a shine to the Terran (probably because of their heroic efforts during the rescue and escape) and Sho’a had a hunch that the feelings were mutual.
Even if he couldn’t quite read their emotions just yet (which bothered him more than he cared to admit), he was still very confident in his ability to read basic body language, and the Terran’s affection for the infant Chronosapling was on full display.
On top of that, seeing Izuku waking up would probably help calm Eri down; two ships, one laser, problems solved.
Ah. Remembering what had happened back on the training shuttle to upset Eri so much made Sho’a wince internally, forcing him to do his best not to let the guilt slip out, lest it mar his face permanently.
(His fault. His fault. His fault as always.)
Part of the reason he hadn’t wanted Eri and Izuku to interact was that he (for various reasons) did not quite trust the Terran. He simply didn’t have enough proof to trust them with Eri, especially unattended whilst he was busy compiling reports and defusing arguments.
The other, perhaps more important, reason, was that young Chronosaplings, especially distressed Chronosaplings, had a tendency to lose control of their abilities. It was debatably their only defence against harm, even if it was unreliable.
Which was handily demonstrated by Eri losing control of her powers and accidentally rewinding Izuku, causing them to experience each wound again, until Aiizwa had finally realised what was happening behind his back and was able to separate them, by which point Izuku had passed out from fatigue and pain.
(Too late. He’d noticed too late and Izuku was paying the price. Innocent blood on his hands once again.)
Poor Eri was inconsolable after that, and refused to sit with, or even talk to anyone; and Izuku was now in the infirmary, being checked over for any adverse effects.
This was a major failing on his part, and one that he knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for any time soon.
(If only he’d done something sooner. Why hadn’t he? He should have.)
Stewing in silence for a while, Sho’a turned a corner, head down and swirling with thoughts of what could have happened due to his negligence.
Reports of smugglers being accidentally rewound to infancy, or to even before that by abused, stolen Chronosaplings flashed through his mind; as did images of the bloody, broken bodies of his charges, a vision of what could have been if Izuku wasn’t as nice and forgiving as Eri had thought, or if the young Terran hadn't come to their rescue back in that damned cell on the trafficking shuttle.
The past few cycles had been one big failure after another.
(Another body, so small, so fragile, so utterly broken beyond anything imaginable in his wildest Divinyxes, appeared before his eyes, taunting him.)
No. He couldn’t let himself stay stuck like this- drowning himself in guilt and misery wouldn’t help calm Eri down and teach her control, nor would it keep Izuku away from the covetous grasps of the HSPC or of smugglers like OverHaul.
There was an old saying, one commonly thrown about by experienced merchants who traversed the more dangerous trading routes: there was no use crying over stolen wares.
What had happened couldn’t be changed, but it could be prevented in the future.
First, he’d have to make amends with Eri and tell her that Izuku was recovering well in the infirmary.
Hopefully, that would be enough to encourage her to leave the room she had sequestered herself away in and to follow him to the infirmary.
There, she would hopefully be able to see Izuku wake up and that would make for a more relaxing environment for them to wake up in.
Potentially. Honestly speaking, there were so many holes in this plan, that it would be a miracle if it actually worked.
So, before anything else had the chance to go drastically and dramatically wrong, he needed a’abica. It had been far too long since he’d last had some, and he could feel a headache growing, pounding away at the inside of his skull.
(And if the a’abica helped drown out the images that haunted his every waking moment and cursed him in his sleep, then that was a useful side-effect.)
With a quick detour to the ship’s canteen made and a nice, steaming flask of a’abica acquired, courtesy of the lunch crew, Sho’a made his way towards the Educators’ Lounge, where Eri would hopefully still be.
And as expected, there she was, sitting curled up in the corner of the room, her leaf drooped over her head, quivering and shaking, in a sight eerily similar to what he had seen when he had first met her on OverHaul’s ship.
That was… difficult to take in, especially with his role in this happening. Guilt rose up inside him once again, bubbling up to the surface and nearly overflowing before he could push it back down beneath a cool facade.
Nearby, O’ako was kneeling on the ground, trying to talk to Eri, wings fluttering slightly in nervousness, whilst Ka’azki stood against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted away from the scene in front of them, and eyes narrowed far enough that anyone else would mistake them for being closed.
These younglings, really…
Well, it wouldn’t do for his charges to fix his mistakes, would it?
Loudly chuffing into a closed paw, he leaned casually against the doorframe, eyes still fixed on the now halted scene in front of him. All three younglings froze, as though they had been caught in the midst of a robbery, their heads swivelling immediately towards the sudden noise. O’ako was the first to react, hands waving wildly in front of her face as she blurted out what were clearly the first words to come to her mind in that moment.
“Professor Aiizwa! Uhh, we were juust… uhh… going to the dorms?”
Ka’azki snorted loudly, steam erupting from his nostrils. “Save it Round Cheeks, it’s clear as Mante what’s going on. Scep, how are you this bad at lying?”
O’ako had clearly taken offence to that, if her rapidly reddening cheeks were to be believed, or the murderous glare she was now directing towards the either very courageous or extremely ignorant Nitroglodyle.
(Was it bad if he was leaning towards the latter? As a teacher, it probably was, but when had he ever let his teaching duties affect how he lived his life?)
“Oh? I didn’t see you doing any better, Explodo-Jerk! And what are you even doing here, huh? Hiding from Eri? Too scared to talk to a youngling?”
And now would be an excellent time to intervene before this devolved into yet another pointless argument. At least no-one would need to be sent to the infirmary this time.
That had been a Divinyx all on its own.
He chuffed impatiently into his paw once more, a redder tinge gradually filtering into his eyes.
“May I interrupt here? Or are you two not quite finished yet?”
The pair quickly stopped bickering at that, with O’ako actually having the grace to look somewhat embarrassed. Ka’azki snorted and looked away scowling- still an improvement over losing his temper and throwing a tantrum like he used to.
It didn’t matter anyways- he wasn’t here to see either of them and he could certainly let them off this once, if only for his own peace of mind.
(Not at all because he felt bad for them after all his own failings, definitely not.)
(He’d never do something like that. He had a reputation to uphold after all.)
Ignoring the hushed argument that had picked up the tick he had turned his back (and what the scep would it take for them to get along for once? Even at least in front of him? Another abduction?) Sho'a strode across the room, crouching to his knees in front of Eri’s silent, shaking form.
Oh scep, how had he messed up this bad? If he’d been more attentive, if he’d focussed more on what was happening behind his back, if he’d-
Nope, not doing this again. Now wasn’t the time to lose his head- he was the adult in the room and needed to act as such, if only for Eri’s sake.
(There would be plenty of time later to berate himself for all his mistakes. Preferably over something stronger than a’abica. He’d need it.)
As the Chronosapling looked up at him, Sho’a inhaled deeply, taking a moment to consolidate all his thoughts and lock away some of the more self-loathing ones, before meeting her almost expectant gaze.
“Eri, I-”
“I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt Izuku… Promise…”
Poor, sweet Eri, burdened with this much guilt for something she couldn’t control.
Laying a paw on her head, he gently kilted through some of the vines, trying to be as reassuring as he possibly could.
“It wasn’t your fault Eri, I should have been more careful. No-one blames you fo-”
“But- but, I hurt Izuku! And now he’s in the hospital, and he’s not waking up, and, and…”
And with that, Eri slumped over, burying herself and shaking into the crook of Sho’a’s arm. There was little he could do except give the youngling space to process the myriad of emotions she was surely feeling, rubbing soothing circles into her hair. He could hear O’ako’s quiet sniffles from behind him, though no more bickering.
Small mercies, he supposed.
“You did no such thing,” Sho’a murmured, holding Eri slightly closer to his chest. “Izuku will be okay- the medics said so. He will be fine, I promise.”
And like that, the room stilled for what felt like an eternity, Eri slumped into his arms, quivering.
And if his eyes were slightly wet as well, well it was a good thing that no-one could corroborate that.
(At least, no-one who couldn’t be threatened with detentions could corroborate that).

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