Ashes of Love and War - TodoMomo

||Chapter 15 ~ Part 1||

50 days post the fall of Troy (Morning after the attack)

The next day, fog covered the mountaintop in a heavy gray that seemed to match the mood within the orphanage. Silent and bloodless, the humid mist rolled off the sea and breached the orphanage's walls like a harbinger of the danger surrounding them all.

The men that had escaped the stympahlian's attack unharmed trudged silently around the quarters, fixing what they could or preparing for that night's battle. No one had slept.

There was an anxious tension in the air. Momo had caught a few of Fukukado's men siphoning alcohol from the orphanage's last wine barrel but hadn't stopped them. All anyone could do was try to keep their mind off of the upcoming battle.

Momo grabbed a jar of honey and fresh bandages from their dwindling supplies and then hurried back into the makeshift infirmary. She was the only one on duty at the moment. Aizawa and Asui were busy bringing the unhurt children and the few injured pirates that could still walk down to the ship.

She went over to the nearest man's pallet and sat down next to him. The pirate was feverish and shaking. A stymphalian had sliced through his arm, down to the bone. Long gashes along his back were already starting to fester. She helped him sip from a flask of wine, laid the man back down, and began redressing his bandages.

Her shoulder throbbed at the movement, but Momo ignored the pain. The work and sting were a welcome distraction. If she stopped, if she paused, she'd think about Tokoyami. And then she'd just be upset.

He had come by her room that morning before departing for his patrol. Momo had known the sound of his footsteps as he stopped in front of her door, but he hadn't knocked and, after a few moments, had left without saying anything even though he had said he wanted to speak to her.

Not that Momo wanted to talk. She didn't even know what they'd say to one another. Yesterday, she had been so incredibly furious. But now, whenever she thought of Tokoyami, she just felt hollow.

Tokoyami was her oldest friend. He had been her confidant, had protected and guided her throughout the war and politics of Apollo's temple. But Momo had taken his companionship for granted.

And now it felt too late.

The harder she fought to hold onto their friendship, the more it broke. All that was left were chipped pieces of glass that cut her every time she touched them.

The most painful part was that Momo was coming to the realization that no matter how the night played out, their friendship would never go back to how it was.

She finished dressing the patient's wounds. Then she left the makeshift hospital wing and paused, sniffing the air.

There was a strange smell laced in the wind. It was hard to tell over the dark magic-infused fog, but it almost smelled like smoke.

Momo walked back to the kitchen and paused. Todoroki was standing there, looking out the window. He didn't appear to have seen her, and Momo debated if she should leave him alone.

He was another factor in her life that was difficult to think about. But at least he talked to her.

Momo stepped into the room. "Todoroki."

He didn't respond, and she moved closer. She looked up, following his gaze. In the distance, through the fog, there was a faint red-orangish tinge. It looked like a fire flickered on the far south side of the island.

Momo's eyebrows drew together. It was an unusually hot summer. There had been two small fires that month already, but this felt different. It felt bigger.