"You can run, but you cannot hide. We come for you, Winter Child. We come."
Those are the words I, Midoriya Izuku, heard before being attacked by what seems to be a rotting dog corpse. It moved faster than the eyes could follow and was about to bite...
Monday. Ochaco hadn't returned to the dorms or class. When I spoke to the Principal, they gave me little information.
Without Ochaco's guidance, I put my swordsmanship training on pause. I didn't want to accidentally learn improper techniques and have to unlearn them later. My mornings were spent battling in Elsewhere to grow stronger. The Wild Hunt may not be after me yet, but that could change. Getting stronger couldn't hurt. And lately, I found myself staying over The Crowley more and more. The ease to get to Elsewhere from here made it too convenient to pass up.
As I walked the familiar path, I spotted a woman with short brown hair. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as adrenaline coursed through me. My heart skipped a beat as I called out, "Ochaco!!"
She turned, and I saw sadness etched on her face for a fleeting moment before it hardened into a stoic mask. "Give me your hand!" she demanded.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
After nearly two weeks apart, this was how she greeted me? Not even a 'hello'? I knew she had reasons to be angry after our last encounter, but her curt attitude stung.
"Well, hello to you, too. How are you? I've been fine..." The bitterness seeped into my voice before I could stop it.
Ignoring my tone, she repeated, "I said give me your Gods-cursed hand, Izuku."
I refused to back down either. "Why did you make Sarah think I assaulted you?"
"Your. Hand," she insisted, and then her eyes widened in realization. "Wait...assaulted? Who would say such a thing?"
"You insisted on swapping Ceremonial Magic partners, then disappeared from class. That thot drew her own conclusion," I explained, unable to keep the edge from my words.
Her frown deepened. "Her conclusion is hers, not mine. Now, give me your hand, Izuku. This is important."
"Why?"
"Please, Izuku. I need to check something. This is important to me. And you, too."
A knot of dread formed in my gut. "Did you tell your father?" I asked carefully.
"Tell him what?"
"About Nimue. And the prophecy. And the Mantle?" I listed off, bracing for the worst. If she ratted me out, I may need to flee the country, at the very least.
Shock flashed across her face, segueing into a frown. "I am upset at you for hiding important things from me, Izuku." She shook her head slowly. "But hardly angry enough to wish you dead, which is what would happen if Father perceives you as a threat to the Throne."
Still not convinced, I pressed, "So what do you want to do with my hand? Try to seal my power so I won't be a threat to your family or something?"
She wouldn't normally do that, would she? But it wasn't uncommon for people to take extreme measures to protect what mattered most, be it family, treasure, or something else.
