#it's homebrewed because i make up lore like i add seasonings to my cooking; on the fly and without premeasurement

[shih-coulda-had-it]

WHUMPTOBER | Search Party | wc: ~800

a/n: homebrewed fantasy AU inspired first from @/boss-the-goofball's fantasy isekai AU; this is purely an aesthetic thing now, i think, and also me enjoying OFA interactions

//

The paladins of One for All rarely gathered in the same area. Not only because it was impossible to ensure everyone had the means and free time to travel on a schedule, but also because their souls were already shared with one another. The connections rendered physical meetings moot since they could tap into the mental space and hold a conversation from, say, a cave system below sea-level (Banjo) to the highest peak in the land (Shinomori) without strain. 

Kudou referred to the network as ‘Yoichi’s heart’ just the once before clamming up about the identity of their divine patron, but Nana thought the term was apt.

It wasn’t just words they shared. It was feelings, too.

ALL FOR ONE WANTS SORAHIKO TO BE HIS CHAMPION, Nana yelled, and she couldn’t tell whether the pure lightning streak of terror was hers, or En’s, or even Shinomori’s. They reached for her. She shoved the hastily-scrawled note to the forefront of her mind, just as she shoved her socked feet into her boots and tightened the buckle of her sword belt.

‘I have to go. Sorry.’

Burned into the wooden floorboards, a complex spell circle taunted Nana with her lack of understanding. 

Where is he? said Kudou, said Bruce, said every other wielder of One for All’s power. A dizzying array of locales flashed before Nana’s eyes: a tavern, a marsh, a gray coastal cove. They were six individuals in total, but their movements echoed up and down a chain.

I don’t know. It was possible Sorahiko didn’t know where he was headed either.

Nana had personally plastered the bloody sword with talismans. She had verified Sorahiko’s lack of possession using techniques only Kudou and Bruce still recalled, invasive ones that made Sorahiko actually complain (even though he still agreed to them). How did All for One ensnare him? Or had Nana been tricked from the start?

No. No, that was paranoia speaking. Nana knew Sorahiko. She pinned her cape into place and scoured their room at the inn with a practiced eye. He’d taken his traveling pack. Her own was apparently untouched, so Sorahiko’s priority wasn’t to sabotage Nana. She shouldered it on.

En mused, All for One’s castle?

Kudou and Bruce destroyed that years ago, Banjo disagreed. A sense-memory: Banjo’s footsteps, pressed into ash, slowly disappearing as a cold wind picked up. Nana tasted the absence of life and grimaced. She had her own memories of the unofficial pilgrimage site; she didn’t need Banjo to hammer the point in.

Shinomori said, Show me the summoning circle again, please.

She obliged, but she didn’t dare to step into it. The markings were a script, jagged in style, and interlocked. It smelled strongly of blood. Maybe Sorahiko’s, but just as equally likely, Nana was going to venture outside the inn to see a mob wanting justice, or trip over a fresh pale corpse.

We need a direction, Kudou said testily.

The fourth paladin to pledge an oath to One for All was silent for a second more, and then Shinomori answered, The circle was not written with cardinal directions in mind. Shimura, are you certain of Sorahiko’s allegiance?

He wouldn’t swear to All for One, Nana declared.

He didn’t care for One for All either, Bruce reminded her. 

Nana bristled, but before she could defend (what could she even say? Sorahiko didn’t think highly of any divinity, nor was he a lover of material wealth; his loyalty was selfish in motive, selfless in effect) her friend, Shinomori intervened: The dead volcano on the southern coast. There is likely a port town.

You deciphered that? Kudou’s incredulity filtered through the network, but they caught a flash of him wheeling his horse about-face, heedless of any cursing pedestrian. Lucky him. Nana was still trying to decide if she wanted to leave through the front door, or toss herself out the window.

No, Shinomori said, patiently. The script’s vocabulary is not so specific. The summoning is flexible in its target, because the desired location is meant to be a center of unrest and fear. Shimura mentioned that the last locale she and Sorahiko visited received them… poorly.

She felt her ears burn with embarrassment. Yeah. Not her greatest moment as a paladin of One for All, needing to haul Sorahiko’s revenant-attracting ass out of a revenant-infested pit nearly every local witnessed him (sleep)walking into. 

He’s not All for One’s, Nana said.

Yet, Banjo quipped. Who’s closest? 

En signaled a wordless acknowledgment, too distracted with a conscious verbal transaction to commune with One for All. After him, it was Shinomori. Nana was third-closest, followed by Banjo, Kudou, and lastly Bruce, who was somewhat stranded in the north. She wrenched the window’s shutters open and leapt into the sky, Floating high to avoid any vigilant watchmen. 

The net had been thrown. Now it was a question of who would catch Sorahiko first.