Fates Entwined (A TodoBaku ff) ✔

XVII

He ate his evening meal with Midoriya in the library, finding comfort in the warm and hearty foods, surrounded by books under thick blankets near the open fire. Never, before he arrived here, had he found such comfort in warmth and companionship, but now he embraced it as much as the spiced meats Izuku was plating atop a bed of rice.

"I really can't believe you walked all the way to Tapsken! In the dark too! How did you navigate the forests?" The green-haired man asked with wide eyes.

"I simply left the path, but followed the sounds of water until I broke through the treeline. I climbed a tree in search of signs of life and saw a trail of smoke that came from Aizawa's chimney."

"Ah, I'm just glad you're alright. Aizawa was kind in walking with you all the way back here."

"He said he had business to attend to, it seems he sensed something was occurring before Bakugou could send his letter. I think," Shoto mused for a moment, taking a large bite of his food, "I think he recognised me, or at least some parts of me."

Shoto looked up at the strands of red hair falling across his vision, almost glowing like fresh blood from the firelight. His expression darkened and he resumed eating, Midoriya thankfully deciding to change the subject.

"Well, he must have recognised something good for him to help you! Anyways, I'm excited to go to the Monasteries tomorrow, it'll be great speaking to the elders again!"

"What do the elders do?" Shoto asked. 

"They mostly protect our history and help the Tribe leader when new policies need putting in place. They're not as important as they were years ago, especially during the war, but they guard sacred texts and artefacts dutifully."

"I see. Would it be alright then, my going that is? Am I allowed to see such items?"

"Why not?" Midoriya shrugged, cheeks a little red from the spicy food. "Anyone can go the Monasteries, people just get put off by how old and serious they are."

Shoto nodded wisely, recalling his distaste of his father's advisers: old men who had no care for the people, simply advising his father and fuelling his greed based on old days of glory at the expense of suffering. Midoriya laughed at his distasteful expression. 

"What time do we leave?" Shoto asked. "I don't want to delay the journey any longer."

"How about just before noon? You'll need a good sleep, and the journey doesn't take too long. If I need longer we can spend the night there."

"I see. Then shall I meet you for breakfast in the dining hall?"

"Sounds good!"

Midoriya left shortly after their meal, declaring he had to make preparations for the journey. He wouldn't hear of Shoto helping no matter how much he insisted, and so he was left by the fire alone. Nearby he noticed the pile of books he was perusing the other day, moved to another table but otherwise left untouched. He was rather tired now, but would finish reading them soon. Maybe he would find a collection of history books at the monastery?

He stood up and folded his blanket atop the chair before leaving the library, Midoriya telling him someone would clear the dishes later. The walk to his room was quiet, and a view of the starlit tribe below greeted him as he entered. He locked the door and dressed in his sleepwear, quickly climbing under the thick covers, sighing at the familiar comfort it provided. Aizawa and Hizashi's guest room was more than comfortable, but something about the thick and deep bed, the soft and weighted covers, the view from the wide window, it settled a calm in him he didn't realise he had missed so much. His spirits were content after a long bath and warm meal, but when he slipped off to sleep he couldn't escape the lingering grip of his father's threats looming in his mind...