Chapter Text
Izuku is walking when the first thought comes.
He's been using his feet to swipe at the thin snow over the pavement, brushing it until it reveals gray. He wants to keep making sure that he's following a road and not wandering off into some field. Roads take you to people because roads are a path and people follow paths; however, roads can also be a weapon if you know how to use them. Maybe Izuku can simply end this agony by bashing his head into the pavement. It'll be ruby snow from pristine white, maybe an animal will come and find his body, maybe it would be a meal—
He jerks his head to dissipate the consideration. It's only been three days—two being in and under a tree, while today is spent walking—then again, he doesn't have water or food and his hoodie isn't thick enough for this kind of weather. Within the last three hours, it had begun snowing, and Izuku's risk for hypothermia has skyrocketed. Frostbite can creep into his damp tennis shoes, soon to be gnawing at his skin. He could collapse from dehydration at any minute now.
So, he runs. It's going to drain his energy worse than it already is, but his mind forces him to run, and doesn't care about logic.
Or, he would run if there wasn't lead in his ankles (his entire leg, bricks, vines rising from the earth and entangling him, and even cement may as well be where his feet are). Izuku shuffles through the thin snow and realizes how sluggish his brain is, along with his motor skills. Earlier, Iuzku was shivering to the marrow of his bones. It certainly isn't a good sign that it stopped. All of these are symptoms of hypothermia, which he'd learned during UA's training. Back at UA, where he was walking to class—
The creatures crashed into UA, not caring about the blaring alarms or flashing lights.
They stole lives—
He remembers how he's been hearing their roars at night. In the far-off distance among the trees, they linger and Izuku hopes that they don't get closer. He hasn't used One For All because he noticed how people were picked off left and right for using their quirk. Mauled and thrown at walls, bloody and torn, snacked on by the beasts. Beasts. Calling them Beasts is suitable.
Izuku stops in place and sways. He raises his foot for another step, but it results in him crumpling to the ground. He moves his hand to feel his pulse in his wrist—it's weak—and focuses on his breathing—shallow, very shallow—if he faints now, then it wouldn't be good. Too bad, he jokes internally, because black spots are residing in his vision and are growing stronger. They are paired with flashing lights as if they were illuminations of lightning. Eventually, the snowflakes drifting become dancing sparkles while he fades from the world. Maybe he won't have to witness any more deaths; maybe this will be his last. Just him.
If only.
♡♡♡
Life can always have different plans, though, and most of the time it changes for the better. Such as this time—Izuku awakes in a literal bed of warmth. And… burning. His fingertips are on fire, his cheeks, and any skin that was exposed to the cold. It hurts. He grits his teeth and tenses (too tired to fully scoot, but enough to have a distressed reaction). Izuku hisses. His training with All Might was much worse than a little nerves firing off pain. Heck, he's broken so many bones, he can't count.
Humming sounds from beside him. A familiar voice, one he's heard before and spoken to. He knows immediately. Izuku gradually becomes lucid of the noise around him—crackling, that comforting humming, odd yipping, and soft clattering. He zones into the humming. The tempo is slow and the pitch dips into a valley, going low, and climbs. He breathes deeply, imagining the vibrato resonating around him, rumbling vibrations that crescendo before dropping. He analyzes the clattering as well—like background noise to a soundtrack of crackling and tunes—it's probably objects to a hard floor (wooden, possibly).
Clicking in the pattern of uneven footfalls arrive beside Izuku, passing and becoming subtly quieter near the other clattering noise. The yipping (Izuku is sure that it's an animal by now) starts again. Pitchy yaps interrupt the humming, so it stops, and Izuku listens to breathy laughter. Everything pauses, aside from the constant crackles and pops of—fire?—the laughter gets clearer, too.
"Mirai, stop it, you silly pup!" Thumping. "You drumming again?" A giggle and panting, both coming from the same area. Izuku's mystery savior likely has a dog.
He uses his willpower to peel open an eyelid and tilt his head to the slightest degree. Hazy, but it still works. A wooden floor, gleaming orange, and two moving blurs. One gray and the other with a red splotch; a splotch that floats, but not really, because it's got to be hair. Izuku determines that there's a human with an animal companion, and—Izuku could almost grin at the fact that he's thinking like an alien. His vision's image shifts to more crystal, and hopefully, he can recognize this familiar—
Izuku does know him.
Leaning above an enthusiastic dog that wags its tail so hard that it beats on the floor, his hands in its fur scratching playfully, and smiling for the world to see his sharp teeth, sits Kirishima Eijirou. The one and only. The one that's still alive and Izuku can gaze at him without it being a ghost or a hallucination. He's still here, heart beating, simply playing with a dog on the floor. Unlike the dead—
Eijirou gasps, "Mirai, you're right! He's awake."
Eijirou stares and pushes aside some objects lying around, making his way towards Izuku in barely a distance. The dog walks along Eijirou's side, then sits and looks down at Izuku with a lolling tongue. Izuku blinks open his other eye, squinting from the light. He raises his aching arms and rubs his face. Something wet on his wrist makes him jolt and jerk an arm away, wincing from the too-quick reflex that inflamed his pain even more.
"Mirai, be nice, pup! Back off. Sorry, Midoriya, she didn't mean to hurt you," Eijirou whispers, shoving away a resisting Mirai that slides across the floor, attempting to be dead weight in protest. "Move," Eijirou drawls, taking her previous spot.
Izuku groans. He sits after struggling with his limbs and loose blankets fall from upon his body, along with small pouches—they look like hand warmers that were crammed in. Izuku stares at them with wide eyes, and then his head swivels to the wood stove behind him. There's a cast iron pan on top of the steel, heated from the burning logs inside. It sizzles quietly. The stove is large, it has a pipe that goes up and out of the room (a chimney, basically) and a damper on it to retain the heat. An easy-pull plate to block the pipe.
"Midoriya? Are you here? Y'know, mentally, are you alright?"
Izuku snaps back to Eijirou, blinking. He just holds eye contact.
"Midoriya?"
"Please," he whimpers, voice dry and shattered, "don't call me that." Izuku runs his tongue along his canines and swallows.
Eijirou decides not to ask why. "Wh-What do you want me to call you?"
"Izuku."
"So, we're on a given-name basis, Izuku?" The corner of Eijirou's lips goes upturned. "You can, um—you can call me Eijirou!"
Izuku opens his mouth—followed by a wishful, hesitant pause—and closes, opens once more. He brings his fingers to his lip as if he wants to feel every physical movement in saying this one word.
"Eijirou."
Eijirou's smile morphs into a wide grin and a tinge of pink encompasses his cheeks, heating from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears in five seconds. Izuku makes a short hum (he probably noticed, but no need to announce it).
He speaks, "Eijirou."
Eijirou has a flurry of giggles and splays his hand open across his face, hiding in his palm. "This is gonna be weird, but can you also say a nickname really quick? I just want to hear it. Like… say Ei."
Izuku snorts. "Okay. Ei."
Squealing, Eijirou drops onto his side and curls on the floor. "I'm so sorry," he mumbles, "I'm sorry, I've never had anybody call me by my given name besides my family and Katsuki. It took a whole three years to get there! It's different and I love it."
"Kacchan? Really?"
"Yeah! He began doing it at the start of our third year at UA."
Something flickers in Izuku's irises, the flash of a memory. "Did you… see Kacchan? Do you know if he's still ali—"
"Izuku, hey, you still need rest, don't you? Let's not think about that right now. I'm sure you're tired and that you've come a long way, considering that I found you passed out in the snow." Eijirou musters a weak chuckle. "I promise that we can talk tomorrow, alright?"
"You promise?" Izuku whispers, his brain drooping already and wanting him to plop back onto the pillow he was on prior with the prospect of sleep. He wants to know if Kacchan escaped; however, sleep is all too appealing currently and there can always be a conversation later, right? "Promise, Eijirou?"
"I swear on my life," Eijirou agrees, placing a hand on his chest and holding up his other, palm out front. "It wouldn't be manly of me to lie. I've got your clothes drying and your beloved red tennis shoes, so don't worry about those either." He points to a door frame.
Izuku looks and sees his clothes hung on a string nailed to the doorway on both ends. His red tennis shoes that Eijirou deemed as beloved are on the floor, soaking up heat from the wood stove and drying out. Izuku sighs contently, then stares down at the new clothes he hadn't realized he was wearing. And… dang, they are fluffy. Fluffy and warm and cozy all over.
"I didn't see anything! I had my eyes covered the whole time, e-even if it was difficult," Eijirou sputters, causing Mirai to twirl because of the excitement.
Izuku gives a soft smile. "It's okay, Ei."
"That—that's good! Anyways, you sleep and I'll finish going through this med kit. I think the people that lived here were real old-fashioned preppers; it's sad that they left their stuff. I'll also be checking you for any signs of a fever, so keep your head uncovered, alright? You don't have any frostbite. Your fingers were just a bit frost-nipped. I'll be watching to see if any symptoms of hypothermia come back, too! Medical isn't available, everything had shut down and—"
"Is this what I sound like?" Izuku asks.
"Hm? Oh—I'm sorry! I got carried away." Eijirou rubs his neck sheepishly.
"It's okay, thanks for the update." Izuku yawns. "Goodnight, Eijirou."
"Goodnight, Zuku. I'll try not to wake you."
Izuku hums thanks, pulling back up the blankets and still-activated hand warmers to his neck. Sleep comes almost immediately.
♡♡♡
Izuku gasps past the weight on his chest and the tightness in his throat. He coughs, pushing himself upright, shifting the weight on his chest that whines somehow. His stinging eyes catch Mirai whimpering and pawing at his body—she seems to be trying to calm him down, from the way she nuzzles beside him and takes slow breaths, simultaneously gazing into his being. Izuku swallows and gasps again, finding it hard to breathe smoothly, gripping at the blankets.
Footsteps travel towards him quickly. Eijirou enters his vision, right at the moment when a scream tears out of his throat. It ends with his voice cracking and he pulls his knees against himself as if to shield from the horrid images that keep creeping into his mind. UA is crumbling for the second time and people are dying for the hundredth—
"Izuku, you're safe, you're safe. I'm here. You're safe," Eijirou whispers, crouching and wrapping his arms around Izuku. "I hope that touching you is fine right now."
"I—they—they d—Eijirou, I-I don't—they—" Izuku stammers through sobs.
"Shhh, you're okay, we're safe. Com'ere," Eijirou says, hooking his arms around Izuku's waist and scooting him into his lap. He rocks them both side to side slowly while rubbing his hand on Izuku's back, and rests the other one in his hair.
"I don't w—th-they—" Izuku chokes on a sharp inhale.
Eijirou shushes him. "Deep breaths, okay? We don't want it to turn into one of those. Deep breaths with me, Izuku."
Izuku nods, leaning away from Eijirou so that they can face each other. It was late afternoon when he got here, and it still is; the days are shorter in winter, so the light gets dimmer nearing the end of the day (like now). Eijirou's face is illuminated, but also dim.
"Ready?" Eijirou asks, cupping Izuku's cheek in a fast swipe before his hand falls to his shoulder.
"Ready."
"Okay, deep breath in, four seconds. One, two, three, four."
"I-I couldn't—"
"It's okay. You're doing great, just try again for me," Eijirou intervenes.
Izuku nods.
"Deep breath, four seconds. One, two, three, four. Good. Hold, one, two, three, four."
Izuku's head thumps against Eijirou's shoulder.
"Let it out now for as long as you need."
Izuku releases air slowly from his mouth. They repeat this process about three to five more times until Izuku is reduced to silent weeping, which makes Eijirou compelled to start rocking them both again and whisper words of praise into his ear. Izuku mutters incoherent ramblings and the only thing Eijirou can do is wait. Mirai whines from beside them.
Eijirou scratches behind her ear, not ceasing the comforting motions for Izuku. "It's okay, girl. You're really smart, but you can't handle something as complicated as this. He must've seen some things too, maybe worse than me."
Izuku tenses. His ramblings grow louder. "I'm sorry for be-being such a—such a burden, and I—you don't deserve this—I-I'm so-o-rry! I should've just b-been left in—in the snow! I—you, I'm—I'm so sorry—I—I could've—"
"Remember our deep breaths, Izuku, alright? Do it for me now."
They repeat. Izuku is left once more in Eijirou's hug, mentally battered and beaten to the point of quiet tears that punch him physically. He clings to Eijirou.
"None of that talk, okay? You're not a burden and you've never been one," Eijirou says, running his fingers over the surface of tangled, green curls. Going too deep would yank his hair and offer a headache.
Izuku only nods and hugs him tighter.
Eijirou's vision gets blurry. "And—and I'd never leave you in the snow. Don't say th-that you should be, because it's—it's not true. Don't apologize. You didn't d-do anything wrong—and—" Eijirou's voice breaks and he throws an arm over his eyes, slamming them shut. His chest jerks with his hitching breath, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Izuku. "We've both h-ad a rough time since… since th-then."
"Ei, don't, no, I'm sorry—don't cry. I-I'm sorry," Izuku panics, pupils darting around his covered face. He forgets about his own tears momentarily.
Eijirou brings his arm limp into his lap and sees Izuku staring close to his face, biting his lip, and his freckled cheeks are shiny—stray drops still glide along his skin. Izuku focuses on Eijirou's red-rimmed eyes and how the first storm seeps out—
Izuku is triggered back into crying by Eijirou, and Eijirou can't stop because of Izuku. Mirai stands, distressed and whining, pawing at the both of them. She barks the best that a puppy can; her vocal cords aren't developed enough yet to have the deeper bark of a fully-grown Australian Shepherd.
"Mirai, f-fetch tissues," Eijirou sniffles.
She tilts her head.
"Box with paper inside, small."
She yips and begins running through the abandoned house's halls.
Izuku smiles weakly, tapping Eijirou. "How's she know th-that?"
"She's a very smart dog, I think that she has an intelligence quirk, no lie," Eijirou says. He pauses. "Are you okay?"
"I guess so." Izuku shrugs, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Are you?"
"Yeah."
"That's good."
"Um, Izuku?" Eijirou prompts.
"Hm?"
"How often have you been having nightmares? You haven't even been asleep for thirty minutes and the next thing I know, you're screaming," he says softly, taking Izuku's hand into his own. "I want to help you."
Izuku's fragile, taped-back-together dam collapses again and he's frantically wiping newfound tears rolling down his cheeks. "Sh-Shoot, I'm sorry. The sleep deprivation has g-got to be taking a toll on me. I'm not usually this—usually this emotional," Izuku laughs out in a pitchy voice. "I haven't…"
"When's the last time you slept decently?" Eijirou asks, leaning into Izuku's face, almost bumping their foreheads.
"Um—over three days ago. I think."
"Since then, huh? Are your nightmares about what happened?"
"They…yeah—" a harsh breath interrupts. Izuku's nervous smile falls and he finds himself diving for Eijirou's hold.
Eijirou opens his arms and lets Izuku burrow into the crook of his neck. Izuku's heaving breaths quake both of them, and Eijirou does the same as he did earlier. He cradles Izuku like glass; he must have reached a breaking point and now he can't stop cracking over and over, so he's more like glass grounded into fine dust. Dust that slips through Eijirou's fingers.
Back and forth slowly, hand in his hair and one on his back, Eijirou murmuring reassurances to him. A routine they've done multiple times since Izuku woke up, spanned not too far apart.
"You're okay. We're safe, let it all out. I've got you," he whispers. "Let it all out, Izuku."
Izuku wails into Eijirou's shirt, clutching the fabric. "I'm sorry! I sh-shouldn't have—I didn't think—" he goes quieter, "—I don't wa-want to die, Eijirou."
"I know, Zuku, I know. I've got you, and we're safe here," Eijirou says. "How do you feel physically?"
"Everything h-hurts. Aches."
"Are you too hot or cold or anything?"
Izuku shakes his head. Mirai bounds down the hall, box in mouth and stops so suddenly that she skids along the floor. She trots up to Eijirou and drops a box of tissues into his hand.
"Good pup, Mirai! You're such a smart girl!" Eijirou cheers, petting her and pulling out a wad of tissues. "But…they're damp? Thankfully it's just this top one."
Mirai puts her paw over her eyes, swiping at the air. She whines.
"What's that on your chin—oh my gosh, did you eat a tissue?"
Another expressive whine. As if she were talking.
"I guess you had to… since you've never seen a box of tissues 'till now. So you had to make sure by eating one?"
Izuku giggles. "Eijirou, you know that she can't answer you, right?"
"Pfft, yeah, yeah," Eijirou replies. "Let me see you, Zuku."
Izuku climbs off so that they can make eye contact again. Eijirou throws his used tissue aside and reaches for another. He cups Izuku's face, tilting his head slightly, and dabs at the old tear tracks. Izuku presents a smile towards Eijirou when he lowers the tissue.
"There's my sunshine," he says.
Under his hand, he can feel Izuku's cheek getting warm.
"Uh—oops! I—erm, is that weird to say?" Eijirou yelps. "It just—"
Izuku rapidly shakes his head, waving his hand around and using his other hand to cover his face. "No! It's okay! I'm—I'm flattered, that's all!"
They both squeak and look in two different directions, a flush encompassing their cheeks and ears.
"How about some food? You've gotta be hungry," Eijirou says, standing. "I can't cook too well, but Bakubro taught me some things! I fried some vegetables and meat together and it's fresh! Honestly, since the power went out, I put the food from the fridge outside. I don't know if it was a good idea, but it kept it real cold! I don't think Katsuki would kill me for that."
Izuku gasps. "I'm starving and that sounds freaking fantastic." He goes to stand, too, but his knees buckle just as fast.
"Woah, Izuku, I've got you. Take it easy," Eijirou says, hooking his arms underneath Izuku's and lowering him to the ground. "I'll get you some water too. Rest here."
"Thank you. I got dizzy."
"Mirai," Eijirou begins, and she perks, "fetch a water bottle. I'll give you a great dinner as a reward! Treats! I put them in the first bedroom."
She yips and dashes into the hall.
Eijirou returns at the same time as Mirai does with a water bottle, holding three bowls of steaming food (balancing a bowl on his arm somehow). Izuku gladly takes one and thanks him for his kindness. Mirai devours the one put on the floor. Izuku unscrews the water bottle lid and begins chugging, which makes Eijirou look at him in surprise.
"Don't chug it, you'll get sick," Eijirou corrects, pointing a pair of chopsticks at him.
"Okay."
Izuku tears into the food like a ravenous wolf.
"Zuku, stop it, you animal. No offense, Mirai." Eijirou laughs. "But seriously, you'll get sick. Stop it."
"Bu'h 'm hung'y," Izuku states, muffled through a mouthful.
"Go slower."
Izuku huffs. "Mhm, 'ine."
"Good."
They finish (with Mirai being the first) and allow Eijirou to take the bowls away.
"Ei," Izuku yawns when Eijirou returns. "I'm tired."
"Are you afraid you'll have another nightmare?"
"Yeah."
"Cuddles can help—I-I mean, if you wanna, th-then—I—"
"Yes," Izuku says. "Please?"
Eijirou's expression softens. "Alright. Lay down and scoot a little bit, I'm coming in."
They lie gazing at each other.
"You know," Eijirou reflects, "I'm glad that I hauled that mattress in here because the floor isn't that comfortable."
Izuku snuggles into the blankets. "This is comfy."
"That's good. I'm happy."
"Are you going to leave that stove burning tonight? I read somewhere that you shouldn't."
"Believe it or not, but until I was ten years old, my family had a wood stove. My mom left it burning every night to the ashes. Even in this modern-day, hero world, she chose a wood stove because it was 'homey'. She enjoyed the physical labor, but my other mom disagreed and thought she was crazy for that. Later on, we got a gas fireplace instead."
"You had two moms?" Izuku asks. "That's pretty cool. You've never really talked about your family that much."
"I guess I trust you a lot, then!" Eijirou beams.
Izuku chuckles. "Thanks for doing all of this, Eijirou."
"Anything for you."
"So, the deal's still on, right? You'll tell me about everything in the morning?"
"Of course," he replies.
Izuku shifts closer to Eijirou. "And what about those cuddles?"
"As you wish!" Eijirou snorts. "Come here, Sunshine."
Izuku rests his head against Eijirou's chest and their legs tangle together. Eijirou scratches Izuku's scalp gently through his mess of curls, both of them breathing steadily.
"Your hair looks nice, I like it down," Izuku mumbles.
"Aw, thanks."
"Is it okay if you hum for me? It was calming earlier."
"Sure, Zuku."
Eijirou hums the same tune as earlier, and Mirai leaps onto the mattress, preparing to sleep in a ball at their feet.
"Thanks…" Izuku whispers, dozing off from exhaustion. "Ei…"
"Sleep well."
Eijirou ignores the Beast's thunderous roars as best as he can throughout the night.