XVI

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A long and deep sleep restored his body to good health, and he awoke with energy in his limbs; yet deep sleep led to dreams of shouting and flames, anger and pain, and he awoke with a heavy heart. Aizawa and Hizashi greeted him for breakfast and he enjoyed a simple porridge with fruits and some honey, the kind of food Fuyumi would make for him when he was sick as a child. It was warm and filling, and after thanking the men once more for their hospitality he headed towards the door, only to find Aizawa following him.

"I'll be joining you, if that's alright." Aizawa stated, no question in his tone as he shut the door and led the way down the path towards the main road, small shoots and flowers scattering the ground around them. It was simple and cozy, probably something that helped Aizawa's health after retiring from guard duty. 

Shoto nodded, and followed the man in a comfortable silence down the road. Trees lined the way, tracks in the dirt signalling it was well used by travellers and merchants alike. The sun was bright and warm, splaying onto his skin similarly to how the moonlight had mere hours ago. The breeze, ever colder now winter was gaining ever closer, kept them lively on their journey, and Aizawa said at their pace they could arrive at the castle in an hour. Each with satchels of water and bread freshly made by Hizashi, they had plenty of nourishment for the journey.

Shoto found himself quite comfortable with Aizawa, despite his usual wariness towards figures of authority, whether past or present. The man seemed content to keep the silence, and he appreciated not having to pass the time with useless conversation whilst not knowing what was the correct thing to say. Aizawa had a strong physique, if not a little tired with age, and the scar under his eye looked rather new, unlike the old mangled flesh on his own face. He was curious about how it was acquired, but knew better than to ask something so personal. 

They passed people on their journey, some knowing Aizawa and greeting him warmly. However, it wasn't until they passed a sign signalling their arrival in Bikarin, carved of fine oak and resting on the outskirt of the road, fresh paint probably for arrivals for the winter festival, that Aizawa spoke to him.

"That's a fine necklace you have there."

"Ah, yes." It was fine, Shoto knew that, the materials cared for and strong. But there wasn't a question in the man's words, was he supposed to say something more?

"Where did you get it from? It looks sort of familiar."

"From Bakugou."

"The King gave it to you?" Aizawa sounded somewhat surprised, reflecting his raised tone when the jewellery was first placed around his neck.

"Yes, after I beat him in a fight." Shoto replied, looking into the distance to see if he could spot houses or maybe even the castle up ahead. He was several steps ahead when he realised Aizawa had stopped, and turned around to see what the problem was. But, just as he was about to speak, the man seemed to regain himself and continued walking.

"You beat Bakugou in a fight, you say?"

"Yes, at the winter festival. He gave it to me after that."

"I see. Do you know how Bakugou received it himself?"

"He said he won the tournament in a summer festival four years ago, but since I beat him it now belongs to me. In his words, he fucking obliterated them all."

"That's extremely exaggerated." Aizawa huffed with a frown, and Shoto thought he had said something wrong before an amused look overtook the man's face. "It seems I may have to start training with him again. You must be awfully powerful."

"I can fight." Shoto retorted, somewhat annoyed someone would question his skill when firstly there was proof of his victory around his neck, and secondly he had been moulded all his life to be the perfect fighter. His skills, regardless of the hardships he undertook to grow them, were not to be underestimated.

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