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The wind roared, shaking Izuku Midoriya from his long slumber, his eyes snapping open. The shroud of death slid, at last, off of his lithe body, blood rushing into every extremity and breath filling his lungs with some urgency. He sucked in yet more air, flakes of snow flying past his lips with the oxygen. He hacked and wheezed as the altogether unfamiliar atmosphere mingled with his throat, pushing himself onto his knees and pounding at his chest.
Snow crunched beneath his bare fingers as he pushed himself up, cold chills creeping into his hands and up into his arms. He felt colder than he’d ever felt, felt snot globs already beginning to form in his nostrils. An uncomfortable stuffiness overcame his face, and his mind registered that he was sick before it registered that he was alive again.
But he was. He was alive.
He sniffled. He wiped some mucus from his nose, and then immediately felt the floodgates open right back up as tears welled in his eyes. He did not know where he was; he did not know who was around. But he knew he wasn’t dead, and for the moment, that sensation sufficed to make the young boy weep.
He pressed his hands to his bare chest, letting the feeling of his already frosting skin touching his fingers nearly overwhelm him. As tears began to stream down his cheeks and sobs began to catch in his throat, he grabbed on tightly to his pectoral muscles, to his ribs, to his arms, to his legs, to every inch of bare skin he could touch. His hand slid up to his chest and he waited for what felt like an eternity for it, for that feeling, for that sound: thump-thump, thump-thump. The sound of the drum of his heart beating again, for the first time in who knows how long.
The sickening horrors he’d seen in the death game lingered in the back of his mind, but for one moment, Izuku felt like a boy again. As if he was just a normal, sixteen-year-old kid, living his normal, sixteen-year-old life, because Arbiter dammit, he’d won his life back. The memories of his time in the underworld were hazy, but cognizance pinged around in his brain enough to know that he’d nearly given up, that he’d almost lost a sense of purpose and almost resigned himself to an eternity in hell without putting up so much as a fight. But Bakugo’s insistence – and then, soon, his own unstoppable fervor – had pushed him across the finish line, back into his life again.
Or back into… this place, wherever this was.
The very air seemed to be howling. As consciousness dripped back onto him, Izuku Midoriya started to observe his surroundings. He stared out the mouth of a gaping cave entrance, blue-gray stone rising on either side of him to make a foreboding archway. Stalagmites jutted from the ground where the rock met the snowy dirt, menacing teeth to steer wary travelers away from the interior of this cave. The emerald-haired boy glanced back over his shoulder. If he were to turn around, if he were to delve deeper into this disquieting cavern, would he just be walking back to the underworld? Was he sitting at the start of the road to hell?
A noise that sounded almost like purring rose out of the shadows as Nezuko creeped into view. Deku sighed as he remembered the deal he had made – almost unspoken, between he and the rulers of the underworld, but nonetheless binding – that he would allow her to travel with him. The purpose of her company escaped him, and he still felt a little nervous letting a demon be his traveling companion, but the pull of his word was undeniable. He wouldn’t break a promise.
He sniffled again, starting to wipe the tears off of his cheeks as his sobbing finally began to subside. Nezuko scooted close to him, whirring a little bit as she nudged his shoulder with her forehead. He glanced down at her, taking in her pale skin, glassy eyes, and sharp teeth for the first time. She didn’t seem to be much younger than him – perhaps she’d been fourteen or fifteen in life – and other than the demonic facial features and claw-like talons on her fingertips seemed relatively… normal. She nudged him again, pointing to a small box nearby.
“Oh,” he spoke, almost overwhelmed to hear his fresh, life-filled voice for the first time, “thanks.”
He stood, walking over to the small chest, and opened it. A stack of clothes was inside, and as the chilly air finally began to settle in on his body, he did not hesitate to put them on. He layered, wondering if these clothes had been left here by someone else or if they’d been a gift from the gods of the underworld upon his reentry into the world of the living. They fit nearly perfectly, so despite the obtuseness of the idea, he felt like the latter option made the most sense.
Once he was suitably reclothed, boots pulled on and coat wrapped tightly around him, he glanced out into the snowy wilderness. Nezuko sidled up next to him, rising to stand on her two feet. She stood just off his left shoulder, bright pink eyes following Izuku’s gaze out into the wilds.
Something tickled the young boy’s ankle. He glanced down at the sensation, finding a small, thin, but vibrantly green vine emerging ever-so-slightly from the snow, flirting with the idea of touching him again. He crouched down, reaching out to try and touch the uncharacteristic plant life, but it jerked back, slipping into the snow and out of sight.
He wiped more snot off his nose, and blinked.
“Hmm,” he thought out loud, “...doesn’t seem very normal.”
Snow crunched beneath his bare fingers as he pushed himself up, cold chills creeping into his hands and up into his arms. He felt colder than he’d ever felt, felt snot globs already beginning to form in his nostrils. An uncomfortable stuffiness overcame his face, and his mind registered that he was sick before it registered that he was alive again.
But he was. He was alive.
He sniffled. He wiped some mucus from his nose, and then immediately felt the floodgates open right back up as tears welled in his eyes. He did not know where he was; he did not know who was around. But he knew he wasn’t dead, and for the moment, that sensation sufficed to make the young boy weep.
He pressed his hands to his bare chest, letting the feeling of his already frosting skin touching his fingers nearly overwhelm him. As tears began to stream down his cheeks and sobs began to catch in his throat, he grabbed on tightly to his pectoral muscles, to his ribs, to his arms, to his legs, to every inch of bare skin he could touch. His hand slid up to his chest and he waited for what felt like an eternity for it, for that feeling, for that sound: thump-thump, thump-thump. The sound of the drum of his heart beating again, for the first time in who knows how long.
The sickening horrors he’d seen in the death game lingered in the back of his mind, but for one moment, Izuku felt like a boy again. As if he was just a normal, sixteen-year-old kid, living his normal, sixteen-year-old life, because Arbiter dammit, he’d won his life back. The memories of his time in the underworld were hazy, but cognizance pinged around in his brain enough to know that he’d nearly given up, that he’d almost lost a sense of purpose and almost resigned himself to an eternity in hell without putting up so much as a fight. But Bakugo’s insistence – and then, soon, his own unstoppable fervor – had pushed him across the finish line, back into his life again.
Or back into… this place, wherever this was.
The very air seemed to be howling. As consciousness dripped back onto him, Izuku Midoriya started to observe his surroundings. He stared out the mouth of a gaping cave entrance, blue-gray stone rising on either side of him to make a foreboding archway. Stalagmites jutted from the ground where the rock met the snowy dirt, menacing teeth to steer wary travelers away from the interior of this cave. The emerald-haired boy glanced back over his shoulder. If he were to turn around, if he were to delve deeper into this disquieting cavern, would he just be walking back to the underworld? Was he sitting at the start of the road to hell?
A noise that sounded almost like purring rose out of the shadows as Nezuko creeped into view. Deku sighed as he remembered the deal he had made – almost unspoken, between he and the rulers of the underworld, but nonetheless binding – that he would allow her to travel with him. The purpose of her company escaped him, and he still felt a little nervous letting a demon be his traveling companion, but the pull of his word was undeniable. He wouldn’t break a promise.
He sniffled again, starting to wipe the tears off of his cheeks as his sobbing finally began to subside. Nezuko scooted close to him, whirring a little bit as she nudged his shoulder with her forehead. He glanced down at her, taking in her pale skin, glassy eyes, and sharp teeth for the first time. She didn’t seem to be much younger than him – perhaps she’d been fourteen or fifteen in life – and other than the demonic facial features and claw-like talons on her fingertips seemed relatively… normal. She nudged him again, pointing to a small box nearby.
“Oh,” he spoke, almost overwhelmed to hear his fresh, life-filled voice for the first time, “thanks.”
He stood, walking over to the small chest, and opened it. A stack of clothes was inside, and as the chilly air finally began to settle in on his body, he did not hesitate to put them on. He layered, wondering if these clothes had been left here by someone else or if they’d been a gift from the gods of the underworld upon his reentry into the world of the living. They fit nearly perfectly, so despite the obtuseness of the idea, he felt like the latter option made the most sense.
Once he was suitably reclothed, boots pulled on and coat wrapped tightly around him, he glanced out into the snowy wilderness. Nezuko sidled up next to him, rising to stand on her two feet. She stood just off his left shoulder, bright pink eyes following Izuku’s gaze out into the wilds.
Something tickled the young boy’s ankle. He glanced down at the sensation, finding a small, thin, but vibrantly green vine emerging ever-so-slightly from the snow, flirting with the idea of touching him again. He crouched down, reaching out to try and touch the uncharacteristic plant life, but it jerked back, slipping into the snow and out of sight.
He wiped more snot off his nose, and blinked.
“Hmm,” he thought out loud, “...doesn’t seem very normal.”
Quest: An Arbiter’s Tears
Izuku Midoriya
Post WC: 987 (according to Google Docs)
Quest WC: 987/2500 (according to GDocs)
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