Chapter Text
Izuku sat propped up against the carriage door, the face of this pommel pressed against the cushioned door. Despite the excitement of the past few days, he still felt bored. Just barely, from his peripheral vision, he could make out the hem of a pink dress, and the soft whimpers and sniffles that came from the woman who occupied it.
‘I hope one of them manages to get their hands on me. None of them deserved any of this.’ Izuku thought to himself.
The carriage moved in silence, rocking slightly from the uneven terrain of the unpaved road the group traveled on. The girl in the pink dress continued her soft weeping, while another girl murmured to her in a sweet voice to calm her down.
Izuku could feel his master’s irritation through their Bond. Izuku rolled his eyes, this man was always angry at women, pushing them around and generally just being a huge dick. But then again, he was like that with most everyone. But he could afford such an attitude, his wealth, although meager, and skills with a sword made him a force to not be trifled with.
Although Izuku did not care much for his current master, he couldn’t deny. It had been many years since he had a master who wielded him so skillfully.
The group, consisting of his master, four girls from the village him and his underlings just ransacked, continued on their journey to the next large city over. Even though his master mostly dealt with transporting alcohol (legally) and drugs, weapons and other mystic artifacts (illegally), sex trafficking was a first for the man. He must have wanted something different, something exciting to shake up the monotony of his daily life.
They continued their travels for a while longer, time stretching on slowly, the girl in pink eventually quieting down herself. Suddenly, a loud thump rang out from atop the carriage, then jerking violently to a stop. A cry from the driver rang out, then all went still. His master stood quickly, and grabbed Izuku by his grip with a beefy hand.
“You four, stay put if you know what’s good for you.” His master growled out, pointing sharply at the girls before throwing the door to the carriage open and stomping out, slamming the door shut and throwing the lock for good measure.
Now with his face no longer smushed against the carriage door and the face on his pommel facing outward in his master’s hand, Izuku is able to take a good look at what has caused this commotion.
A blonde man, in dark trousers, boots and completely shirtless save for the bands around his elbows and beads around his neck is currently deep in a sword fight with two of his master’s lackeys.
The man would swing his sword, slicing through the air, parrying and aggressing one man before turning on his heel to swipe at the other.
‘He’s pretty good.’ Izuku thought to himself idly. Izuku felt his master begin to run up to the fight between his lackeys and this guerrilla fighter. His master gripped him tightly and swung him through the air. Izuku felt his blade clang against the steel of the blonde man’s sword, the reverberations traveling through his body.
While his master fought this blonde aggressor, Izuku opted in to squeezing his eyes shut during the battle. He had gotten used to being in fights a long time ago, but after being put up on the wall as decoration for so many years, the fights now make him queasy and nauseous, with no way to relieve himself except to wait to be held still for several minutes.
It wasn’t until Izuku felt something inside him snap, red hot and sudden that his eyes flung open. He witnessed the blonde man, now only a breath away from his master, driving his sword into his chest, the other men laid dead around them.
The blonde man was panting heavily as he pushed and further drove the sword into his heart. The blonde man had his eyebrows furrowed, crimson eyes locked onto his prey as he slowly lowered him to the ground, ensuring his master’s death.
His master was a tough man, even in his older age was still skilled. Izuku thought it impressive that his master was overtaken in just a few minutes by this other man. He mentally kicked himself for closing his eyes just to ward off nausea.
As his mastered was fully laid down, clinging to the last bit of his life, Izuku could feel their Bond weaken. Although forming a Bond with his master, or any of his masters for that matter, was never intentional and usually occurred by them simply wielding Izuku, feeling a Bond forcefully be broken always felt awful.
Izuku, without a proper human body to call his own, was beginning to love the feeling of a Bond being broken, in a weird masochistic way. He had not felt pain nor pleasure in many years, and the mental strain of feeling a Bond snap like a dried twig let him feel something at the least.
And when that feeling came, Izuku nearly groaned. He kept himself silent, or course, but the feeling of the broken Bond nearly vibrated through Izuku. Like feeling a bone snap inside you, or being a tree and feeling the sap freeze in the cold of winter.
His master’s hand fell limp, and Izuku tumbled to the ground, thankful his pommel landed face-side up so he could continue to watch the situation play out.
As soon as his master was dead, the blonde man yanked his own sword from his victim’s chest and stomped away heavy footed to the carriage his ex-master had come out of. The blonde man had escaped Izuku’s vision, but he could still hear.
He heard the lock being turned on the door, along with the squeak of the door being opened.
“I’m looking for the girls Mina, Tsuyu, Momo, and uh…” The man’s voice faltered for a moment.
“...Ochaco?” A female voice offered, and Izuku recognized it as the girl in the pink dress who had been weeping on their trip.
“Yeah, whatever. Everyone here?” The man said gruffly. Izuku assumed they gave him a silent response, a nod of the head perhaps, since he didn’t hear a reply. From just the edge of his vision, he could make out movement of the man and the four women.
After a few minutes of silently moving about, the group drew closer to where Izuku laid on the ground. Seems that the blonde man had taken his ex-master’s horse and had situated the girls back inside of the carriage, turning back around to return to the village from where they were stolen from.
The blond man had nearly passed Izuku, but had faltered for a moment. After halting the horse for a moment, he leapt off of the driver’s seat to come down and pick Izuku up. He was sure that if he had cheeks, they would be heating up and turning as red as an apple as the man inspected him closely. It had been a very long time since someone as young and handsome as this man had handled him.
He paid close attention to Izuku’s pommel, a silver miniature statue of a young man sat attached to the grip of the sword. Delicate details showed off curly hair on the statue and a shirtless figure, hands folded daintily in front of him and waist tapering off to form the grip.
The grip on this sword was of dark green leather, the cross-guard was the same silver as the pommel, with tiny green emeralds embedded in it. The rest of the blade was of a lighter green color, the shade of green leaves turn when you see light passing through them.
Izuku felt embarrassed being looked at so closely as the blonde man turned him over in his hands several times. Thankfully, he stopped his turning and spinning of Izuku before he because motion sick. The man shrugged, tightened his grip on Izuku’s sword grip, and then hauled himself back up into the driver’s seat, placing Izuku face-side-up at his feet.
Izuku was thankful for his placement, being able to watch and (would never admit it, but adore) the blonde man along with the blue sky overhead. It had been a long time since he could cloud watch. Izuku felt longing as he wished he could feel the sun on skin while they road back to the recently attacked village.