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awesomelogicflip · 6 years ago

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Family Matters Chapter 3

Izumi Midoriya. I never got to know my Great-Grandma like my mother did yet her effect on my life was profound. I can honestly say that without her my mother and I would never have progressed as far as we did. Nor would we have known the cost of what we’d been given. It might be nice to eat anything you want and be able to stay trim with just a bit of effort, the heightened strength, the sharp senses, and all. Be that as it may, the bill for all of it had yet to come due and during that last hazy summer weekend while I was playing in the woods, my mother, as she told me years later, was having her world turned on its head. She come to Great-Grandma’s house to relax and yet got the worse shock of her life, one that was probably echoed by me when I had our family history explained to me.

I will not detail what I, and by association, my mother was told about ourselves in this book as that would counteract the point of this book. After all, I’m sure another scientist can explain the intricate nature of genetics and DNA in ways I cannot.

-Izuku Midoriya, My Mother The Warrior

Chapter 3

“So we’re going to Grandma’s house?”

Izuku asked the question through the slightly open backseat door as Inko put the second and last suitcase in the trunk. She was surprised with how light it felt or maybe she hadn’t packed as much as she thought. With a push, she closed it and went to the door, shaking her head but planting a kiss on her son’s forehead. “No, we’re going to your great-grandmother’s house.” She corrected gently. “She’s my grandmother. Now legs in and check your tail.”

And how odd is that to say? The tails weren’t inconvenient per say, hardly noticeable, at first. Yet, they were a detail that couldn’t be ignored since they’d basically had an extra limb. Being right at the base of the spine, underwear and pants required modification or else there was a constant sensation of pressure there. She’d done what she could in the time she had, cutting holes for them…but it was basic and haphazard work. The hole in Izuku’s shorts and her sundress weren’t cleanly done. Izuku’s shirt hid the hole and for her part, she just wore a long jacket for hers. She’d need to get a professional tailor eventually. One who worked with Quirks that forced wardrobe changes.

Izuku complied, sitting in the car properly and holding his tail close to his chest so that she could shut the door. As she walked around to get to the drivers side, she couldn’t help but feel baffled and a little awed, not only with how the week had gone but just...everything.

Everything that had happened, she’d spent most of the night telling her grandmother about it. The gasps of horror and the shocked silence came at the points where she’d expected them to. It was once she’d exhausted every last detail of what her week had been like that she’d asked if they could spend the weekend at her house. Her grandmother eagerly said yes, which lifted a weight from Inko that she hadn’t noticed until after she’d hung up the phone and went to bed.

In all honesty, the discussion to make the trip to her grandmother’s home in the country was about the easiest one she’d ever had made. Musutafu, the city she had been living in for years and had planned to raise a family in, suddenly seemed too loud, too big, and far too stifling.

She’d never noticed her neighbors before but when she’d gone to sleep, it had been an effort not to notice the sheer presence of bodies around her. Arriving home yesterday had been like walking into a closet, shutting the door, and then noticing only then that people were crowding around outside.

Yet among one more another unusual in a week of extraordinary ones, the fact she’d decided to drive to her grandmother’s house was probably the one that was the most unexpected.

They weren’t even that far from the train station and, in particular the most direct rail line to get there, five blocks if that. They could make it if the changed her mind right now.

She quickly shrugged off the unpleasant thought like an itchy coat. Daunting as a four hour drive was, though good sense told her the train ride would be faster on top of convenient, the idea of doing so was enough to make her inwardly cringe.

Whatever cabin fever had followed her out of the hospital yesterday clung to the back of her mind like a leech and refused to leave. It had been what had woken her up at 4:30 this morning and like an irritated nerve, throbbed at her to get up and do something.

So she took the time to pack for the visit, thinking that it would burn some energy.

It didn’t.

So she cleaned the apartment. There was no need to leave a mess to come back to later. It was actually the vacuuming at the end of her cleaning spree that had woken Izuku up. So once she’d wrapped up her work, she helped him pack everything he would need.

Still, it didn’t go away.

By the time they had left, she’d been seriously considering if running up and down the stairwell of the entire apartment building. At that point, it was obvious to her that she wouldn’t get through the trip by rail with her sanity intact. Just the bus ride to the garage where the car was stored had been enough to grind her teeth and the wait for the car had been even worse. Her husband had it in the biggest, most up-to-date garages in the city which was completely automated save for a single attendant in a booth near where the cars exited. The employee, a woman about her age with an exceedingly professional bearing, requested her name.

When she’d given it, the woman typed it into a computer and, smiling, confirmed that she was on the list and that the vehicle would be down soon.

The rapidity of the whole thing caught Inko so flatfooted that she had asked, in retrospect, some exceedingly simple questions since she barely knew anything about the place. The employee if they had been nonplussed or annoyed by them, they didn’t show it. In fact, she seemed all too eager to answer her, an attitude explained as Inko listened. Essentially, this garage used records given by the vehicle’s owner in order to know who was and wasn’t allowed to remove whichever vehicle they had stored here. And the car itself had the most meticulous record keeping Inko had ever heard of.

Nothing went unregistered or un-updated: times the vehicle was driven.

Who drove it.

How long the car wasn’t present in the garage counted to the second.

The current millage, before and after its return.

The psi in each tire.

The level of gasoline in the tank. Again, before and after it’s return.

And more that Inko was sure she was forgetting even now as she walked to the driver’s side door, being careful not to bush against the polished to a mirror-shine paint. She knew, just knew, she’d looked like a fish by the time the employee had stopped speaking. Mouth opening and closing, she had to ask what kind of garage was this to have such a level of meticulous care. She’d only been struck silent at the answer.

This garage was used by the rich and famous and everything from classics worth millions to the most recent hyper sports cars were cared for here. The reason for such a high level of service was because they paid for such an expense.

An expense that Hisashi was clearly paying for. An expense that, when Inko asked about, opened up a whole world of questions she didn’t want to think about. Oh, her husband had an ever growing list of things she was going to get answered. For now though, this trip was her priority and nothing was getting in the way of that.

She left the man a note anyway so if he did show up… he wouldn’t worry. A kindness she hadn’t wanted to give, at first.

The door opened with a soft click and barely made a sound as she shut it behind her, her tail lying across her lap.

Still long drive or not, it would be a quiet and somewhat pleasant one. Besides, she knew where she was going. At the time of her first visit to her grandmother’s, there had been no tracks near where she lived. The choice back then was drive or get off at the nearest train station and walk for 2 hours. It wasn’t a hard choice. Even now she could still remember every sign along the trip, every turn to take, and the view from the backseat of…

She quickly swept that thought away.

While Inko didn’t drive often enough to self-justify the expense of owning a car, she was well aware of the quality of automobile she was seated in.

The two-tone black and gray Toyota Century was owned by her husband. The irony that she was now driving it wasn’t lost on her. Swallowing the bitter sadness that came with that thought, she looked over her shoulder at her son and smiled. “All buckled in?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Then let’s go.”

The engine came to quiet attention as soon as she turned the key. Not even a hiccup or a wait for it to turn over.

Outrageously expensive with a service bill to match, she never understood why Hisashi bought it. Leaving out him never being here to drive it, this was the kind of car you hired a chauffeur for to get the most enjoyment out of it. Then again her husband’s tastes were odd and, as she was beginning to figure, not cheap. He’d even splurged for a crew to come clean and detail it once a week, a service the garage provided.

Closing her eyes, she shoved the subject of him out of her head like the glowing coal it was. The note had been left f if he did bother to show up. It was after a deep breath that she noticed Izuku’s voice. “Sorry, honey. Could you repeat that?”

Her son fiddled with the All Might figure in his hand. A light flush touched his cheeks and brightened his freckles. “Have I met Great-Grandma before? I don’t remember.”

“You have.” Inko said, putting the car in reverse. “Though don’t feel bad about forgetting. You were only two years old the last time we visited.”

“Really?” For some reason he seemed awed by that.

“Really.” Inko nodded. She grew concerned when an uncharacteristic look of determination came upon her son’s face.

“Then I won’t forget this time.” He made his statement with the conviction only a child his age could pull off.

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she turned the car out onto the empty street.

“Stop laughing, Mommy. I mean it!”

“I know you do.”

The first five minutes of the drive were all Inko needed to confirm that her instincts had been right. Pulling out into the street and right into city traffic, she felt that ever present itch for activity fade. While still fairly early in the morning, the traffic was already picking up as the city came to life. Inko didn't mind, a hurry was the last thing she was in.

She planned to make this as fun as possible and there was no point in hurrying since the goal of the trip wasn't the destination. While she did want to see her grandmother again and get out of the city for some peace and fresh air, the main reason was for her son.

Inko glanced in the rear view mirror as she guided the car to a stop at the red light ahead. Izuku was playing in the backseat, humming to himself and fiddling with the All Might action figure in his hands. Smiling, like Inko hoped.

This week, starting as horrible as any could, got worse and the last thing she wanted was her little boy to dwell on it.

Those two teenagers in the store had been killed right in front of him and then he'd been put in the hospital. Those things would be traumatic for any child but on top of that, his father hadn't showed up. It was that last thing that hurt Inko the most, she was still trying to come to terms with it herself. How do you explain to a child why their father didn't come when they were hurt? It wasn't a question to ask while you were alone in bed or, even worse, asked by a tactless child when you go back to school. It going to take some careful explaining, hopefully her grandmother could offer some wisdom.

However, that unpleasantness could come later. She focused back on her driving as the light turned green which took her mind off a great deal.

There was a heightened awareness she felt, a blooming of details from everything around her that centered her mind. While this car was all but a literal island of luxury, details from the outside were slipping through. The suspension was soft enough to glide over every bump and pothole in the road and yet she could still feel them, smoothed out as they were. The road noise, which should've been near impossible to sense, droned in her ears quite clearly. When she turned the radio on, she'd had turned the volume down low because it just seemed that little bit too loud.

Telling where cars were before changing lanes, noticing motorbikes in between the cars, even being able to feel the rising speed of the car and just being able to tell how fast she was going before she glanced at the speedometer, it was as if she'd been driving all her life instead of this being one of the few times she'd put her license to use.

One reason she didn't drive was because traffic made her nervous. It was difficult to focus when you were on edge because someone was riding your back bumper like they were glued to it. A nervous feeling was absent during her drive, no matter who honked or rolled in far to close at a light or sped by on a bike, she barely felt anything more than a slight bit of exasperation at the rudeness of one driver who flipped her off when she didn't immediately peel out at a particular light.

Her composure remained as they hit the freeway and quickly made distance between the city and them. It was only when the environment outside began exchanging urban buildings for more bushes and flat green scenery that Inko pulled off the road to an exit for a break.

It was about an hour and a half in but she nor Izuku had eaten breakfast that morning, so a quick rest was needed.

Parking at the first convenience store she saw, at first she’d bought just two sandwiches for them to snack on while stretching their legs. However, like when they first got out of the hospital the snack turned into a meal. She bought out nearly a quarter of the store before the edge was taken off their hunger.

Every sandwich, burger, and steamed bun was eaten in their impromptu picnic near the car. Finishing it all off with a sweet Onigiri for her and a jelly doughnut for Izuku before they continued on.

That was another thing to be addressed later, Inko knew as the pulled the car back onto the freeway. This increased appetite would become a financial problem later on. She’d never been able to eat like that before in her life, not when she was a teenager and not at her current 27. And Izuku, growing boy or not, really had no excuse for putting just as much down. Considering the idea, would’ve made her nauseous last week. Neither of them should’ve been able to attempt to do so, and yet they did it.

And had left room for desert, this time around.

Her son’s question came a little more than an hour or so after their meal, just as she was exiting the highway that took them out of the city proper and onto the back mountain route, she was all to familiar with.

“What’s she like?”

“Izumi Midoriya...” Inko didn’t really need to think long to answer. “She’s nice. Strong. Motherly like me.” ‘Motherly’ was far to light a word for the woman who raised her but simple was good for now.

“She’s like you?” Again, that tinge of awe in his voice. “Did you live with her?”

“Yes. I lived with her in a big house and played on land behind it when I was a little older than you.”

“Behind it? Like a backyard?”

“The biggest one you’ve ever seen. The biggest in all of Japan. With a garden where she grows her own food.” Again, she was practically trivializing the facts. Her grandmother had a backyard like Izuku had a slight interest in Superheroes and All Might in particular. True but far more to be told. If Inko ever met anyone who thought of 60 full acres of land as a backyard, she be shocked. Her grandmother had come into a lot of money decades before Inko had been born and used the money to build a house and buy the land around it.

Focusing back on the near bone-white asphalt as the incline began, she was reminded that once it had been pale gray so long ago and like catching the whiff of a favorite childhood dish, remembering the color also led to the last time she’d seen the road in this direction.

It had been after things had gone bad.

The road had been a pale yellow that night, illuminated by a pair of headlights so bright that in any other situation, she might have looked for familiar shapes as they past. But she hadn’t, her eyes hurt from crying so long and so hard and her vision was still a little blurry anyway. It was awful because she could’ve used the distraction from the other pains she was feeling. The road wasn’t smooth and it seemed like every bump in it went right from the wheels to the backseat to everything that hurt...and it seemed like everything had been hurting

Inko blinked, coming back to her present and rubbed her eyes clear of the tears building there. Thankfully, enthralled by the idea of ‘The biggest Backyard in Japan’ began rapid firing questions that not only had her bringing up the good memories but got so detailed that she had to think hard and dig deep on them. Hard enough that it kept her distracted for the rest of the trip.

Izuku’s questions were not a bottomless well and the car eventually lapsed into silence, right around the time they reached to outskirts of town.

As she turned the last bend, Inko was struck by a sense of nostalgia upon seeing The Crossroads, which she certainly hadn’t seen for awhile, not even when she’d come for a visit over two years ago.

The Crossroads were just a nickname that she and the other children had given the spot years ago. In actuality, the single road crossed nothing but split into three distinct directions.

One continued straight ahead, passing the town she’d grown up in completely and continued to go down the other side of the mountain. The left fork went further up and led straight into town. To the right, the road curved down in such a way that it was impossible to see what was on the other side from the road. However, she knew that it lead to a dead end not but a fifty yards from the crest, the isolated spot having served as a private playground away from adult eyes.

Turning left, she wondered if children in town were still using that road to gather. Driving through town was a trip down memory lane and she for the first time, felt like everything was finally okay. So many good times were tied to this place that just seeing it again had been like wrapping up in a warm blanket. She’d even go so far as to call it a salve to her soul.

One thing that stuck out in her cursory scan as they passed by was the General Store. Run by Mr. Riku and his wife, both had to be getting up there in age like her grandmother now that she thought about it, Inko couldn’t help but notice it was closed. Unusual for that time of day, especially since their joint-candy store right next door was clearly open.

Inko made a note to stop by and say hello before they left. Hopefully, they’d remember a little girl who’d spent far too much of her hard earned money from chores on junk like Pocky and Botan.

“Wow.” Izuku said, awed as he craned his neck to see further ahead.

“Yep.” Inko confirmed. “That’s it up ahead.”

They were about a mile and a half out of town when her grandmother’s house came into sight. The trees parting like a curtain to reveal the house, almost a mansion, in the distance.

It was a grand construction that was quite breathtaking from a distance which grew more so as they got closer. If memory served, her grandmother had said the style was ‘Queen Anne’ Victorian. Whatever style it was, it was an very loud one.

The woman had once joked that she should’ve been born European, she was so obsessed with Western culture. It was an obsessing that shined through, announced through every brick and beam of that house she’d built. In all honesty, Inko had always thought it a bit garish though she’d seen the place as a fantasy castle on the hill when she was a child. Even as she looked at it now, she couldn’t shake off the sense that the house, it’s owner, and the land around it was meant more for a fairy tale book. Something that Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty used as vacation homes, not a widowed retiree's residence in the mountainous Japanese countryside.

It was a building that was bursting with decor, from the green paint on the wood, the dusty pink of the bricks, and the intricate carved roof finials and cresting which Inko had lost hours staring at over the years, it was a home that not only stood out in its surroundings and, specifically one’s memory as it was not a place easily forgotten.

Inko pulled off the road and onto the long gravel drive which, once it reached the house, curved in on itself to make a circle so that someone could simply stop their car in front of it and not be further than a stride from the porch steps and then pull away to go right back down the drive without having to do a three-point turn.

Standing there, framed by the pearl white front door ready to greet them, was her grandmother, Izumi Midoriya.

The first thing Inko noted as she parked was how unbowed she was. Her back was straight and she stood tall and welcoming in defiance of her age. She had no idea if the hand of time was treating her grandmother exceptionally gently or if it was something in her lifestyle but for a woman pushing the better part of seventy, Izumi looked remarkably well. A fact exemplified by her clothing, or rather how well they fit her.

Dressed in a pair of denim pants and a blue long sleeved blouse, they hugged close to her body and pretty much told Inko that Izumi still took good care of herself and hadn’t slipped in her habits since she’d last seen her. Now that she thought about it, her grandmother always had a spryness that gave her the air of women half her age.

Her short hair, tied in a tight bun still had a few strands of green among the silver and her face, weathered but not worn, brightened as Inko got out the car and opened the door for her son.

She didn’t say anything at first. Grabbing and pulling her into a tight hug, she only spoke then. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Her voice was equal parts relieved and happy and even though the embrace pressed into her wound, Inko hugged her back before stepping away.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

“And this,” Izumi gasped, bending at the knees for a better look, “must be Izuku! Come, let me get a good look at you.”

Inko only noticed then that her son had tucked himself behind her legs, his previous excitement gone and his tail twitching in what she could tell was nervousness.

However, when she looked back to her grandmother, she recognized the mischievous gleam in the woman’s eyes and, smiling herself, she quickly stepped aside. “Come now, I won’t...”

“BITE!” Izuku barely had a chance to squeak before Izumi pounced. Both hands shooting out, she caught her great-grandson under the armpits and started tickling.

The four year old squealed, trying to get away but Izumi, refusing to be denied her due, swept him off his feet and into the crook of her arm.

Arms flailing, legs kicking, Izuku was helpless against the assault on his belly, sides, and neck as she went for every weak spot she could. Izuku would cover one, only for the experienced woman to go for another and Inko couldn’t help but be impressed that she still had the strength to hold him in place.

It wasn’t for very long though. The tickling finally stopped a few seconds later and Izuku, face flushed from so much laughing, wrapped his arms around her grandmother’s neck.

“Okay.” Izumi huffed, apparently equally worn from the effort “I’m gonna have to put you down now. You’re already too big for me.” Lowering him to the porch, she gave his nose a gentle pinch. “Why if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re almost an adult.”

The complement made Izuku flush a little brighter as Inko mussed her sons hair. “Not quite though, you have some growing to do, young man.”

“Mommy!” He said, trying to shoo away her hand, clearly embarrassed.

Her grandmother and her shared a laugh as they walked inside.

“I knew you two would be hungry, so I spent all day cooking,” she announced, kicking off her shoes before stepping onto the wood floor of the foyer. “And don’t tell me you’re not hungry.” Leading her son by the hand, Inko followed her grandmother who was already speeding down the hall, past the living room and towards...the dining room, if she was right.

She took her time, taking off her shoes and following at a sedate pace. Mostly for Izuku as her little boy’s head seemed to be on a swivel as he looked around with wide eyes at the pictures and antiques lining the wall, clearly trying to take in as much as he could. She giggled at that, since apparently Izuku forgot they were here for a whole weekend. The other reason she took, her time was...well, her grandmother was more right that she suspected. Their breakfast might as well have been yesterday’s memory, her stomach was already doing the mental equivalent of tugging on her sleeve for attention.

She went for her pocket, halfway through pulling out a cellphone she no longer had, and then once she realized what she was doing, checked her wristwatch instead.

11:39. Almost lunch.

With her son and her’s new appetite, she knew for a fact that even her grandmother’s prodigious portion sizes were going to be more a snack than a meal but they should eat something and she could explain to her grandmother later.

“You grew up here?” The awe was back and as Inko looked to her son, she could see a shine in his green eyes as if he’d been told his mother had come from royalty and only now was having it confirmed.

“Yes, I did. In fact, my-” She was cut off as Izumi’s voice, warm but stern. Her ‘You’re lollygagging and it will stop now’ voice.

“Child, you better get in here. I didn’t work my hands to the bone and sweat in front of a stove for this to get cold.”

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s eat first.” Inko said, picking up the pace ever so slightly. Her son must have been peckish too, since at the mention of food, he forgot his fascination with the house and was hot on her heels.

XXX

“Grandma...” Inko’s voice faded into stunned silence. Her son’s eyes again wide in shock but now edged in a bit of eager joy.

They’d stopped just before the sill of the open dinning room. Much like the house, it was huge western ideal of what a family gathering place was. A big room lined by large windows with a sliding glass door that faced west and lead out onto the porch and into the backyard. The massive solid wood dining table took up the entire middle space of the room, long enough to sit sixteen people with 8 on each side and wide enough for two people to sit on either end if they didn’t mind sharing elbow room, that wasn’t what had Inko struggling to find words to say. She’d lived here once, knew the table well. In fact, she even remembered the spot where she’d accidentally scratched the wood hard enough to leave a mark with her knife.

Although, finding it now would be a challenge considering that the table in question looked ready to fold under the weight of the food placed upon it.

Before them was a staggering number of dishes in exceedingly staggering amounts. Each main dish looked more like it was meant for a buffet than for any setting in a house. Even the side dishes were massive. The rice had so much prepared that it alone could’ve fed an entire family.

Not an inch of space was wasted or lacked something, the only spots left vacant were where three chairs sat scooted back from the table to give it’s would be occupant space between itself and the table to sit.

“I..uh.” With an effort Inko wrangled her tongue and looked and her grandmother, as bug-eyed as her son.”H-how? Where did all this come from?”

“Where did it come from?”Izumi echoed, frowning as if she’d just been asked the dumbest question she’d ever heard in her life. Standing next to a chair at the head of the massive table, she put her fists to her hips, an expression on her face that, for a brief moment, made Inko actually think her question indeed was as stupid as her grandmother thought.

“Where do you think, Child? From my kitchen.”

Inko shook her head, refusing to be put off. No warning of ‘Cooking all day’ explained the All-You-Can-Eat spread she was looking at.

“You cooked?” Inko stated flatly, pointing at her grandmother, who’s knowing grin had come back but now focused on her.

“All of this food, by yourself?” Using both hands, she gestured at the table in a motion that said ‘Look at what I’m seeing here.’

A nod.

“In one day? As in today?”

Inko put a great deal of emphasis in that last word and apparently that was just the thing she needed to get the impossibility of such a task through to her grandmother.

Izumi’s smile left her face, eyes widening slightly before she shook her head. “Oh no. No. No. Dear me, Inko.” She said with a laugh that rang through the room like a bell. “All day is just a turn of phrase, Child. You mustn’t take things so literally.”

Inko hardly thought that was fair and as she approached the table, she said as much. “Its not like you told enough for me not to take you completely at your word. I have to assume you meant exactly what you said.”

That got her another laugh.

Guess I’m a comedian today.

You know what they say about assumption. They make an a-” Her grandmother stopped, laughter dwindling to chuckles when she glanced down at Izuku, then back up to Inko and gave a conspiratorial wink. “Well, you know what they say.”

For Inko’s part, she gave a nod of gratitude and then turned to the food, breathing in deep. That single whiff almost had her falling upon the meal like a wild animal right then,

Smells of clean steamed vegetables mixed in her nose with hearty fatty meats. Fresh bread and sliced fruit combined with dishes of strong spiced curry and the tang of smoked sausage.

It stirred her appetite from an attention seeker to a near primal singular need to be satisfied.

Remembering herself, Inko seated Izuku first who was openly drooling and she couldn’t find it in herself to reprimand him on his poor show of manners. Sitting down, she focused back on Izumi, who was just about in her chair. “So who helped you?”

Her question got a raised eyebrow. “No one, Inko. All done by these.” She raised her hands and waggled her fingers in a surprising display of dexterity.

Now, she was confused again. “Then how did you cook all this?” The only explanation she could think of was that her grandmother had planned for more company ahead of time, but it had been made quite clear that this food was for her son and her. Leaving out that Inko knew Izumi Midoriya had never been one for parties.

Since the party idea wasn’t likely, then this meal should’ve been impossible. This visit was spur of the moment, an emotional decision to close out one of the most emotional weeks in her life. Coming here was meant to unwind both physically and emotionally.

In short, unless Izumi could see into the future, she’d need to have a fair warning to prepare this much, especially at her age.

Her grandmother clicked her tongue, picking up the empty plate in front of her and a pair of tongs that had been between the rice and spare ribs. “I started cooking the moment, I hung up the phone.” She answered.

If it hadn’t been for the armrests, Inko would’ve fallen out of her chair. “What?”

“It gets lonely for this old woman way out here. Not to mention boring. So I went a little overboard, I’ll admit.” She finished with a wave of her tongs, as if shooing away the idea that all this being cooked in such a short time was any big idea. “Indulge your grandmother’s want to provide for her granddaughter .”

Overboard, she says.

Inko had to wonder her a dictionary somewhere in the world had just cracked into pieces under the strain of such a massive understatement.

She was yanked out of her contemplation by the sound of chewing beside her. Izuku’s patience had run on and even her grandmother had started plating some food in the brief pause.

With a sigh of surrender, Inko began picking out what looked best from the table.

She’d planned on questioning her grandmother further after lunch but all it took was once bite of the still hot bread rolls and the lingering subject of how the food get here fled before the ravenous craving to eat as much of it as she could.

Though it did stick out even in her preoccupied brain just how normally her grandmother treated the whole meal. Not a look of shock, quirked eyebrow, or even a comment as she and her son tore into everything before them. Stripping every bone clean and clearing every platter like locusts to an unprotected field of wheat.

With her attention on her grandmother, she also managed to notice that she’d eaten quite a bit as well. Not as much as her but still, she’d put down two fairly full plates within the time they’d finished eating.

It was Izuku who announced the end of the meal. He leaned back in the chair, contented smile on his face and a deep sigh. “That was great. I’m full.” Inko, while agreeing that indeed the food had been wonderful as Izumi was a great cook, couldn’t help the smirk at the irony that there was nothing more to eat. The table, once a picturesque sumptuous smorgasbord, now lay heavy with empty plates, bowls, platters, and glasses.

For her part, her full belly had lifted a weight from her, a prickling that she had only realized now followed her out of the hospital as well. It was enough to dishearten her. She’d known the need for food was going to hit her hard financially but if it took eating this much then...Well, buying in bulk was an option but even that was more of a stop gap than anything long term. Could Hisashi even support them with just his paycheck… That question put a sour taste in her mouth that certainly hadn’t been there before. Of course he could. An expensive car that he barely used kept in an expensive garage for the elite with insurance and everything else. And if he somehow couldn’t, then she…

“What are you doing, child?” Inko jerked and realized with a jolt she was on her feet, hands gathering up the plates and silverware.

Her answer was instant. “Going to wash the dishes.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Her habit, one her grandmother instilled over the years she’d lived with her, was to clean after every meal. Dirty plates were hard to clean if the mess on them was left to dry and apparently even with her mind wandering out afield in her own world of worry and frustration, her body followed what was comfortable for her. Familiar was comfortable. That’s why she was here, after all.

“Oh, please. We can take care of that later.” Izumi motioned for her to put the stuff down. “Right now, I want to talk to you, Inko.”

With that, her grandmother stood up as well and looked to her son. “Izuku,” she said, getting the four year old’s attention. “after you rest for a bit, why don’t you go play outside? I’m sure you’d like the forests around here just as much as your mother.”

“But, don’t go very far.” Inko cut in with a warning. She knew the forest well enough. Where the dead-end road had been the town’s private playground, the forests here had been hers. Every trip in there had been an adventure with tall trees to climb, creeks to splash in, and interesting rocks and bugs to find. “There are wild animals out there.”

Her son’s eyes grew wide, though not in fear. There was almost an anticipation to his look as if he wanted to see what kind of wild animals there were. She wasn’t sure why but it was unsettling enough that her first instinct was to go with him. A tiny pit twirling around in her stomach made her not want to leave his side, just in case he did run into something out there. Yeah, the more she thought about it, the more she felt she should be out there. Any beast that dared to try and lay a claw or tooth or paw on her son, would soon find themselves dealing with her. And she’d be more vicious than any-

“Yes, your mother is right.” Izumi nodded sagely, her voice snapping Inko back to attention. “Up to a certain point is a wire fence that keeps dangerous animals out. There is a tall pole with a red flag on it that marks where the safe zone ends. Wild animals are past it, so if you see it, go no further.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her grandmother smiled even wider and ruffled his hair. “Such a polite boy.” Izuku blushed slightly, freckles standing out on his cheeks and giggled.

Inko followed her mother out the room, hesitating halfway down the hall when she heard the sliding glass door open and shut.

Izumi, noticing she’d stopped after a few more steps, turned to her and beckoned for her to follow. “He’ll be fine, dear. I had the fencing upgraded last month and a couple of inspectors checked the property within to make sure we didn’t have some uninvited guests lurking around. Such young strapping men, too.” She put a hand to her mouth in a vixenish way that was so fake Inko had to laugh at the act.

“Oh, if I was just a few decades younger.” The lament was uttered with a sigh, with Izumi gazing off into space with a love-struck pout that was so out of place on her face that Inko laughed harder, just managing not to bend double and followed after her.

She knew where they were going right away. Located on the north side at the end of the hall was the biggest room in the building, the study which as they entered, she could tell it hadn’t changed. Save for the new desk and the computer that was tucked in the left corner, taking up the final bit of vacant space along the walls. “Still dark as ever, I see.” She observed, looking around.

With each wall lined with near ceiling high bookshelves including two which covered the only windows in the room, the place was cast in shadows that were barely held off from the light coming from the hall and a series 4 of lamps, placed in strategic spots around. The only lamp that caught her attention was the one on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.

She walked closer towards it to get a better look. Next to the lamp which was on the far end were a row of pictures in variously sized frames. These hadn’t changed either. The first one was of a much younger looking Izumi Midoriya in a school uniform. Smiling and with a black tube in her hand, she was posing in front of a school’s grounds with a group of other girls, all of whom were smiling as well with a tube in their hand. Yet even if Inko would’ve somehow not been able to distinguish Izumi’s face which was impossible, the girl in the photo stood out.

A lot.

Out of all five girls who were doing some silly pose or had their head turned in some way, waving to the camera or the person behind it with peace signs, she was the only one who stood straight. Ramrod stiff, a statue standing proud among everyone else, her presence and propriety oozed through the frame.

The picture next to it was a different story altogether. Her grandmother, now a totally mature woman, wasn’t standing. Instead, clothed in a stunning white gown was being carried bridal style in the arms of a large man with sharp features in a black suit. Or was it a tux? Inko could never tell the difference and she could tell that the distinction wouldn’t have mattered to either. The picture had been snapped while they were both in mid-laugh and the joy on her face made the high school one look like she’d been grumpy during her graduation. Inko could feel it, she’d felt it when she’d gotten married. A twinge of sadness curled in her chest as she looked at the man, her grandfather, smile glowing and softening what would’ve been a hard countenance. Inko had never gotten the chance to know him but the stories Izumi told her painted a picture of dutiful, gentle soul who’d sooner kill you with kindness as hit you square in the jaw if you pressed his buttons long enough. And you really had to press them.

He’d died long before she’d been born and she’d never asked her grandmother how. She continued down the row but stopped at one that had been placed face down on the mantle, hiding the picture inside from sight. Inko didn’t lift it up to see, she knew what it was of and as she inspected it, a gratified ease at the thick layer of dust on its back made her smile.

“Come and sit, child.”

A massive carpet covered the wooden floor a safe distance away from the fireplace, upon which sat two well used linen armchairs with a small circular table between them. An electric kettle shared space with an antique lamp and two blue china teacups and saucers.

“Now,” Izumi sat down in the left chair, knees together and facing her as she took the much less worn right one. “How are you doing, Inko?”

She was in the middle of opening her mouth but whatever she’d planned to say was halted by her grandmother’s raised hand. Actually, that wasn’t quite right. The hand had been little more than a twist of her wrist. What did make Inko pause was the change that had taken Izumi Midoriya’s face. There was concern there but it was mixed with a hardness in the eyes that Inko had only seen once before, and she quickly averted her eyes.

Her desire to unload everything that had been on her mind warred with just wanting to keep it to herself, to talk about something other than about her. The weather... heroes... did Takumi; that drummer in town, ever get a break with the band of his? Some idle chatting like she was used to. Her leg tingled and her back throbbed like a nasty memory.

She wanted… needed something familiar. Too much had happened and too much had changed far too fast. Her apartment was too crowded, her husband was too distant, her body had become anomalous, she’d even grown a tail. A secondary quirk that she’d never known she had.

Inko chewed on her lip, having all this time to think and having no clue where to start. Her grandmother waited patiently while when she managed to compact all her thoughts down into into a single sentence. “I don’t know.”

Those three words were so factual that Inko was initially embarrassed that it had taken her so long to say them. She had no clue how she was doing and thinking back to every conversation and thought between waking up and getting here, she wasn’t sure if she ever would.

“In this one week, I’ve been hurt, nearly killed, could’ve lost Izuku and got a lesson in embarrassment and shame so thorough that I’d probably be able to teach a course on it at Todai,” she pushed forward, more words coming to mind as she simply let herself speak. Still not quite able to look straight at her grandmother, her eyes swept along the shelves around her. This place was almost like a university’s library. “But above all that, I’m angry. I’m so angry and I just want to...” A reluctant urge edged it’s way to the front of her mind and it was only then that she recognized she’d been clenching her hands together so hard her knuckles were turning white. She didn’t want to say it out loud, like if it was addressed the thing she was pushing back would leap out like a living creature. The urge wanted action, movement even. For her to DO something, anything.

“I guessed as much.” Izumi’s tone was equal parts sad and resigned. As if she’d expected as much. It was enough to make Inko finally look at her.

Now her grandmother wasn’t looking at her. She was looking away towards a shelf and the emotion in her eyes confused Inko more than anything else. With a sigh, she stood up and moved to the bookshelf she’d been focused on. “Inko, I’d hoped to never had this conversation and in that I failed myself and I failed you and Izuku.”

Her confusion only deepened but Izumi continued before she could ask what she was talking about. “I thought it would be best to keep it from you. You were living a safe and happy life and I thought the burden of our family curse had ended at… well, myself.” Pulling a book out of a line of unmarked ones, Izumi’s hand trembled slightly as if the novel-sized book weighed a great deal. Slowly, with a gaze akin to a judge about to deliver a sentence, she turned and looked at her. A building silence grew between them and Inko was sure that if her grandmother looked at her any harder the floor between them would catch fire.

When she did finally speak, her voice had such a melancholic tone as if she was just a step away from tears.

“Inko. You, your son, and I, are not totally human.”

XXX

A cheer split the air. It was a whoop of such joy and childish glee that it managed to drown out the cicadas whirring around. The air was thick with the sent of moist grass and the air pulled even more fresh scents of the forest into his nose as her rushed around.

Izuku being the shouts source didn’t notice nor care as any skittish animals nearby fled at his announced approach. The boy’s legs pumped hard as he crashed through the brush and weaved in between trees. This was the most fun he’d ever had.

Well… not as fun as playing All Might with mom but it was very very close.

He thought for a moment if they could play that again when he got back to the house. He barely began wondering if they could get Great-Grandma in on it then he saw a low branch on a tall tree. All thoughts flew and left just action.

He leaped for it.

For an average adult, it wasn’t that high, barely a struggle to reach but Izuku wasn’t an adult.

Normally, he would’ve bounced and hopped as hard as he could, missed and probably crashed to the ground or into another tree.

‘Normally’ no longer applied.

His jump carried him up and his arms reached, hands grasping. Catching it, he gripped so that he could swing up but his fingers tightened so hard that the branch crumpled with a few woody pops. The energy left over from his sprint did the rest and halfway through his swing, the limb snapped.

He was sent into a spin, falling towards the ground which came to a stop with a sharp tug from the base of his back. Held in the air and upside down, he got a perfect view of his tail hooked tight around a higher, shorter, but much thicker branch.

His tail had caught him! That hadn’t happened before, not even when he was showing off for Kaachan.

The boy giggled, giddy with excitement. It only took him two tries to pull himself up and from there, again without a second thought, began climbing up the trunk.

His little heart pounded in his chest. Not from fear but excitement. A rush ran through him like nothing he’d ever felt before. Injury and, what would be to anyone, the concerning and still growing height between him and the ground were the furthest things from his mind. His smile only grew as he ran out of handholds near the top.

Crouched on a limb, he looked around. To his right was a tree about as tall as the one he was on but the one after that had a trunk thicker and taller than either. In fact, it looked like if he climbed to the top of that one he would be able to see everything.

However, he could tell just by looking at it that there was no way he was going to make a single jump to that one. So, sighted on his goal, he aimed for the strongest looking branch on the tree between with a moment to bend just the right way to get the most out of his spring and went for it.

Catching by his tail, he made one full twirl around the tree limb and vaulted for his target. He was only as he’d already let go and was too far away grab for anything when he recognized the spot he aimed for had nothing to grab.

A wall of solid bark was coming to meet him.

Instinct took over and he spread his arms out wide as if going in for a hug and, on the moment of impact, dug his fingers in with every bit of strength he could manage. A series of pops followed the sensation of rough wood around his hands and then the pressure of his own body weight.

That had been close.

Breathing hard, smile a little less wider than it had been a moment before, he hung in place and looked around the best he could. Just out of reach, up and to the left, was a branch he knew would hold. He made for it or tried to. His shoes dragged along the surface for a push but got the sound of crumbling and snapping bark for his effort. Even his tail waved frantically as Izuku’s sweaty hands began to slip out of their holes. He couldn’t risk letting go to reach.

Gravity was trying its best to pull him down, his fingers were starting to ache and in frustration he kicked the tree.

The impact was enough to bounce him off his hold… high enough to put that limb just within his grasp.

He reached as far as his arm would go and caught it in one hand, then the other. He quickly scrambled up and wrapped his legs around it as hard as he dared. Sweat streamed down his face and his breaths were hard and fast but after an extra long moment to rest after all his hard work, he looked back up the tree and, carefully this time, picked his next spot and continued up.

And up.

...and up...

XXX

Inko waited for the punchline and when none came, searched for that hint of humor that showed when her grandmother about to spring a joke. Nothing of the sort revealed itself, only a look of such grim seriousness that it actually make her shy into her chair. Izumi was only slightly taller than her, yet even from across the room, her whole presence loomed. The study remained hushed. A grandfather clock somewhere in the building ticked away, it's inner workings a hammer to the silence filling the air to every last crack of space.

She blinked and for the first time in her life, worried. Maybe all this time alone, near the forests had affected her grandmother. God forbid, that age was having its much more silent, much more awful, way with Izumi and as terrible as that was to consider, as much as it hurt her heart to think it, there was no other way she could reason to herself why her grandmother would say something so absurd and mean it.

“What are you talking about?” she finally responded, leaning forward to hear her grandmother better. Surely she hadn’t heard that right.

Izumi crossed back to her chair in two quick strides and lowered into it with a fluid grace that made Inko blink again. Before when her grandmother had walked around, her movements had been smooth but with a slow methodical care as if to be sure of what she was doing before being committed. Her walk firm to make sure her feet were stable, her sitting aimed right at the center so as to not bump her hips or place herself on the edge of the chair. Yet just then, her care left as if it had never been, replaced with a confidence and poise that Inko had never seen from her before.

Ever.

“I’m talking about that tail and what it signifies. What it means for your future.” Flipping through the book, Izumi’s answer came with no preamble to the build up. She spoke plainly with a certainty that made it clear to Inko that she was far from addled. “We aren’t completely human, at least my side of the family isn’t. And just in case you’re thinking of asking, no, I don’t know what we are. Our family has been researching this for generations, longer than you or I or even my great-grandfather, and even with modern science none have been able to agree if its genetic mutation, something supernatural, some unique evolution, or just straight up magic.”

“Oh lord, you’re serious.” Inko hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to be rude, but the words slipped off her tongue as if they’d been greased.

If Izumi took insult though, she didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded opening the leather book that Inko now realized was much thicker than she’d originally thought. “I said something to that effect, when my father told me. Mind you, I was a child when he did so and if a child thinks you’re fibbing than how can an adult accept such a fairy tale as gospel? And I would still not have believed him, if quirks hadn’t suddenly appeared on the scene.”

Inko frowned at that last remark, quickly doing some numbers in her head. “Grandma, you do know that was twenty years before your time, at least.”

The amusement came back to Izumi’s eyes and for a moment she thought there was about to be a ‘I had you going for a moment, didn’t I?’ out of her mouth. Instead, she asked. “Inko, how old do you think I am?”

That was an odd question. “Seventy…sixty-eig-” Her mouth shut with a click. She knew her grandmother’s birthday, certainly but she was coming to realized that she actually didn’t know Izumi’s age. “You’ve told me before, right?”

“I have and I was lying. Mostly for the same reason I didn’t want to tell you about our family’s checkered past.” Her grandmother’s admission of lying hit her harder like a slap across the face. The shock at those words would’ve been total to Inko but like a boxer taking a viscous combo, her brain was already reeling and so didn’t have time to prepare for the follow up. “I’m actually one-hundred and twelve years old. My twelfth birthday had been less than a two weeks away when that historic case in China happened. Oh, the Chinese government tried to hide it, I’m sure, but no political body has the power to hide something like that unless they’re prepared for it.”

Inko sunk into the chair, its overstuffed cushions doing nothing to help with the pressure suddenly weighing her down. “That’s… th-that’s…”

“Impossible.” Her grandmother finished for her, pulling out a folded worn rectangle of paper from between the pages of the book. “Yes, I’m sure most would say that. But here.” The paper was passed over and Inko numbly took it, her fingers moving pretty much on autopilot to unfold it and it took a full minute of staring before she understood what was in her hands. An icy chasm opened in her stomach at the date on the page.

When it did, she gaped back at her grandmother. This couldn’t be fake, but it had to be. “Your birth certificate?”

A sardonic smiled touched the woman’s lips. “Got it for my birthday.”

Inko’s hands trembled as she passed it back. 112...the woman who’d raised her, the grandmother she thought she’d known better than her own parents, was more than a century old. Izumi would’ve looked great for a seventy year old woman. For someone more than a decade past their centennial, her looks were unnatural. There was no plastic surgeon that good, no quirk that could hold back someone’s age, no amount of good food and good air that could do this.

“However, this isn’t so much my proof.” Her grandmother, her over a hundred year old grandmother, picked the certificate between two fingers, folded, then tucked it back between the pages of the book. “This is me making my case, the proof is in you, Child.”

For the first time in her life, Inko flinched at her nickname. Izumi’s moniker for her now felt...patronizing and deceitful. So many questions marched through her head, all trying to force their way out like a mob rushing a single exit. Her grandmother’s statement made a path for one though. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, Inko. Your reaction to my question said as much.”

“Noticed what?”

“Don’t avoid the subject, Inko. You may be an adult but I can still read you like a book.”

The confusion, what was turning out to be a constant state for her now, must’ve shown because Izumi, patiently continued. “I saw the look in your eye in the dining room, Inko. Izuku didn’t but I did. Tell me, did you want to go out there with Izuku?”

Inko nodded, slowly coming back to herself. Her brain, no longer dazed from surprise after surprise, finally changed into gear, “Yes, of course. There were possible animals out there.”

“And what would you have done if your son and you had happened across a dangerous wolf, lets say?”

“I would’ve fought it to give Izuku time to escape.” She wouldn’t allow anything, much less an overgrown dog, get near her son if there was anything she could do about it.

“Would you have done that a week ago? Fought the wolf, I mean?”

“Yes. With my bare hands if I had to.” She answered through clenched teeth, muscles in her jaw tight and fingers twitching for something to hold. To grab. To tear.

“That’s funny,” her grandmother said, looking back to the open book and rubbing her chin in thought. “because you didn’t mention anything like scaring it off or backing away or equipping yourself with some kind of repellent or even a knife. Not even picking up a heavy stick, just fight it with you bare hands.” Izumi focused on her as if viewing her through a scope with her next question. “Does that sound like something you ever would have done, Inko? You? Who wanted to be a housewife? The woman I remember leaving this house when she graduated, didn’t so much as tell off her own school bullies but now your first solution to fend off a wolf is using your hands?”

Inko was about to point out that it was only if her son was in danger, yet the sentence died before she’d breathed in to say it, gazing off into space. Back at the robbery she’d run, fully planning to escape. Just thinking about it, made her shoulder sting. Looking at it now, would I have run?

The idea she had to even ask herself such a fundamental thing was enough to form knots in her belly and ice on her skin. Worse, she couldn’t answer the very question she’d posed and the agitation left her like a deflating balloon.

Dread flowed through her thoughts, sliding over where confidence had been like oil and she looked to her grandmother who now was looking solemn again, all traces of humor gone. The book placed on the table between them.

“It’s as clear to me as the sun is on a cloudless day. It’s in your eyes. It’s in Izuku’s, though for him, he’s expressing this more as wanting to play around. For you, child, I bet before this conversation is over, you’ll be near to exploding out that chair.” She began, indicating the seat with nod. “You’ll be itching to climb a tree or run. Like a pot ready to boil over, you’ll feel ready to run half way across the world. Maybe a quarter if you didn’t sleep well last night. I can tell you now, it won’t help. I wasn’t being dramatic when I said it was a curse. While I can’t trace our family line back further than the late 1800s, I guarantee what you’re feeling has cost some of them their lives.”

Even though Inko knew the feeling, the odd sensation that had followed moments when she’d gotten angry, it was only when her grandmother said it that she truly had the words for it.

“The desire for battle, Inko. That’s what those tails mean. ‘Destruction and feral savagery,’ I think one ancestor wrote. It’s one reason why all the other branches of this tree are gone now, pruned by the rush to war or a duel or even some bar fight that has gotten plenty of them killed.” Izumi stated, her voice touching an edge that Inko would only recognize later as a sob. “This is why I beg your forgiveness.” Staring into her lap, hands clasped she turned to her grandmother. Unable to speak, she stared as her grandmother cupped her face in her hands, clearly ashamed. “My empty hopes for this never to happen doesn’t excuse the fact that I could’ve gotten you and your son killed.”

If Inko wasn’t already feeling like she was lost out to sea, she’d have been swept away by that statement. As it was she stood, more unfolding from the chair than rising out of it, and her grandmother jumped slightly as if expecting some violent reaction. Indeed, Inko didn’t know what to do. Emotions warred in her mind, crowding her thoughts until it felt that no words nor any amount of them would ever be enough. Even standing, staring blankly off into space was an effort to decide. What could she do?

Scream? Cry? Call the woman who raised her after the hell of her early childhood a liar and stomp out like an immature child?

For a many hard ticks of the grandfather clock, she was a living statue. Not moving, not sure if she was breathing and finally, said the only thing she could. “I need a moment. To think. And some space. To think.”

Without waiting for an answer, she spun and left the study. However, the hall wasn’t enough space. Her old home felt even tighter than her apartment, too much stuff on the walls and not enough open air. She continued to the front, throwing open the door and stepping out onto the porch, the Toyota Century still parked a few feet from the steps, it’s polished paint and chrome gleaming in the midday sun.

Still, it wasn’t enough. The house had a physical almost unnatural presence at her back, like it was going to fall upon her. She didn’t look back to it as she marched past the car and onto the drive. With how her week was going, she’d only be mildly peeved if she turned around to see the house teetering like a stack of papers near an open window. She didn’t so much a glance over her shoulder as she continued down the drive, gravel crunching with each step. There was too much to think about and if she had to listen to anymore of that… that… what even was that? Crazy, was what it was. Her grandmother had totally lost her mind, that explained it all. Extra insanity to top off the several helpings of it she’d gotten back in the city and there STILL wasn’t enough space.

Picking her pace up to a jog, she passed from the gravel and only paused long enough to take the direction away from town, and continued down the road. The muscles in her jaw worked as she thought, not even realizing face now had a determined glare. In fact, if this was true, how had no one found out about it? A family with monkey tails popping up would make news no matter what century it was. She’d have known about them, an old cousin or a grand-aunt or someone! Hell, this was something even he would have mentioned.

Oh great, now she was thinking of that man. A growl rolled from her lips and she picked up the pace even more. Still wasn’t far enough. She didn’t even want to see the trees around the house. The asphalt ahead of her passed by, the summer heat waves making the furthest point in the road seem ethereal and unreal. As if, when one reached it, they’d come to the end of reality itself. Inko was ready to take that challenge. Her pace rose, the wild storm of her thoughts the only opposition. The road was clear, a country lane on the weekend was sure to be lacking cars for miles and at that she moved from the side to the center of the road. Her run increasing to a full on sprint along the white line. Each step devoured the distance before her, one foot tramped in front of the other, arms working back and forth like a steam locomotive and eye glaring ahead but not quite seeing.

Quite literally running on autopilot, Inko ran for that insubstantial finish line, some illogical place in her brain telling her that if she could reach it then the world would suddenly be sane again. That her grandmother’s story wasn’t true. That a murderous criminal was already in jail. That Hisashi was here with her and not...who knew where. That the robbery had not ever happened, she’d bought that ice cream pop for Izuku, and left. She had sense enough to know she had much chance of making it to that haze as she did not having this week happen, but damn if she didn’t try.

XXX

“Wow.” Izuku could see the whole world from here, her was certain. He stood bent low, heels flat and body crouched on the thickest and tallest branch of the tallest tree he’d ever climbed, feeling the breeze cool and unrestrained across his skin. It was high enough that he could make out the red flag from here, his view clear above the canopy.

He was indeed quite a distance from it though, so far in fact that it didn’t looked like a flag pole but more like someone had stuck a gray toothpick with a tiny rectangle on the end, in some moss. The forest, green and unbroken, flowed with the shape of the land to the horizon. Shading his eyes with a hand, Izuku followed its contours. It was amazing. He’d never been this high before without being in a building. Taking a moment and combing a hand through his mossy green hair up to get his bangs out of the way, he leaned forward to scope out more details in the greenery before him. Tongue out and eyes squinted in concentration, the four year old focused as hard as he could, both on climbing tree and now trying to take in the forest and thus missed the nest of spotted brown green eggs tucked between the trunk and limb.

The harsh croak made his heart leap in his chest and he snapped his head around in time to see a crow swoop for his face. It’s black wings spread wide and flapping, it looked even bigger as it closed on him. He jumped, trying to ward the animal off then whirling his arms as his heels shifted just enough to put off his careful balancing act. Wobbling, Izuku’s internal gyroscope worked overtime to keep him from pitching over, feet shuffling. The crow in a series of outraged caws backed off for as long for it to reorient itself to buzz him again.

It didn’t get the chance. A deep low-pitched groaning of wood met his ears and made Izuku freeze. All too late, he figured that the branch, thick as it was, only stayed stable as long at the weight on it wasn’t being thrown around.

The Crack was like thunderclap to his ears and his stomach rose as the rest of him dropped. Tumbling through empty air like a stone, he desperately clawed for something...anything but he was too far from the trunk. Fear tightened his chest and choked any screams he would’ve made into small whimpers. Tiny noises which went silent as he crashed through thin branches, swatting at his body like whips hard enough to sting yet so weak they barely slowed his fall.

He yelped. A particularly firm branch struck him across the chest hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs before his momentum snapped it like a twig. It bounced him further away from the tree and stopped his wild spin, giving him a clear view of the rising ground and shrinking empty air in between.

He had to stop! His sharp eyes were able to easy make out the thin blades of grass sprouting between heavy roots and smooth moss covered rocks. Izuku was a smart child but even if he wasn’t, he knew hitting that wouldn’t be good. He needed to stop! If he didn’t-

The ground closed in on him like a wall ready to crush far too fast. The trees roots looking more deadly with every passing second.

The four year old threw his arms forward, palms forward to brace and as his breath came back, screamed as loud as he could. “STOP!”

By all rights, Izuku should’ve hit the ground and been lucky if he lived through it with just a broken arm. He was fully aware of that and, many years later when he thought back to this moment, remembered the fear, the near blind icy panic that pounded his veins and tightened his chest. He would indeed remember and be unafraid to look into the empty eyes of a threat much greater than the memory and try what he’d done again.

The scream ripped through the tranquil forest atmosphere like the crack of a gun and just before he hit the ground, the four year old felt a shock run through him from tongue to tailbone. An impact ran through his arms, a jolt the reminded him of the time he’d pushed on a heavy door just as it was swinging closed. The curtain of dust and dirt flung him and he felt his stomach twist slightly at the intimidate change in direction.

Landing at an angle and much slower speed, he hit the ground with a small grunt rolling to a stop a good distance away from the tree he’d fallen from.

Curled into as tight a ball he could managed, Izuku lay on the ground shaking, short panicky breaths making his voice squeak with each on he took. His head felt like it was bobbing in a tub, ears rushing, and seeing spots even though his eyes were screwed tight. The ground under him felt like it was turning slowly and he could feel his heart beating against his ribs, making his breaths vibrate in his lungs.

When he tried to stand, he was shaking so bad that his arms and legs wobbled like that jelly he’d eaten earlier. They gave and he fell onto his butt. “Ouch,” he hissed rubbing the sore spot

Should he tell his mom? He shook his head as soon as he thought about it. He shouldn’t have been in the tree in the first place and he didn’t want to disappoint her when explaining what he’d done.

He walked his way back to the house, stopping for awhile at a creek that he’d past in his headlong charge. He only planned to throw two or three stones in the water before leaving. That changed when he skipped his first stone, a smooth river rock, hard enough to clear the water in two skips and just barely miss the trunk of a small tree on the bank.

Trying again, the third rock grazed his target, going off to the side somewhere and into the grass. The fourth hit dead center and from there he made target practice of it, every stone tossed with a little more force behind it. By the time he felt it was time to go, the tree had so many stone stuck into it, he’d been forced to angle the last throw higher to avoid them.

As he left the riverbed and went back to his Great-Grandma’s house, with no clue of the depth of the crater he’d left near where he’d fallen.

The property inspectors would bring the ditch to Izumi’s attention a month later and theorize that maybe someone was breaking onto her property looking for something and that cameras might need to be set up near the boundary. The woman in question would smile sweetly, say she’d take their advice into consideration.

XXX

How far had she gone? Inko had no clue but gave no effort to guess. Her heart slammed against her ribs, lungs working like a bellows, and sweat had long past beaded on her skin and was streaming down her face, but she didn’t let up. Her sprint carried her further and further, trees passing by as indistinct blurs at the edge of her vision as she focused on the goal ahead. When her body began to ache, she powered through it. The muscles in her body tightened. Just a little bit at a time until, right as the sun began its journey from noon to evening, both legs folded under her.

Managing one step in an attempt to catch herself, she fell hard. Her body unable to keep up with the monumental strain she’d forced it through and barely managed to not smash her face into the road. Pain snapped through her arms as she caught her right elbow on the road. With a cry of pain, her one extra step and momentum carried her from the center of the narrow road and into a low ditch leading into a clear and open field.

She landed back first, her shoulder and thigh singing the high notes in the symphony of agony playing through her, and was left staring up into the sky. Blue with streaks of white puffy brushstroke clouds lazily drifted above. Sweat, soaked through her shirt, stung her eyes and made everything hard to see. Her hard heavy breathing was balanced on a knife point from hyperventilating, sounding both raspy and wet. Her temples throbbed and her skin pulsed, and her injuries were making her pay, the fire paving white hot tracks between her shoulder and thigh where supernovas seared their mark in her nerves. Her fingers twitched and she barely felt the cuts she knew were on her elbows. Was that good or bad, she didn’t know. What she did know was, right now she could barely move, was bleeding at the side of the road in a field with no cellphone and quite unable to crawl, much less stand.

That wasn’t why she began to weep though. The pain in her body couldn’t match the gaping hole of dread in her chest, the terrible certainty that her grandmother was telling her the truth. She cried for herself, for Izuku, for the end of their simple lives. Inko mourned for it all because, she felt that itch in the back of her mind. A desire that, even with her in such a sorry exhausted state, reared in her mind like a ghost returned for the grave. It had been given a label by her grandmother and now, Inko truly understood the depths of her change.

Her grandmother was telling the truth.

Inko was sobbing so hard that she barely noticed the sounds of someone coming through the grass, the shape of a man leaning into her sight indistinct with her blurred eyes. “Jeez, are you okay, Ma’am?” The words dripped against her senses like light rain.

Her answer was to weep harder.

No. No, she wasn’t. Maybe she never would be again.

It took a great deal of convincing, once she’d gotten control of herself, for the man who apparently owned the land Inko had taken a tumble into, to take her, a strange injured, hysterically crying woman he happened upon to her grandmother’s house and not the hospital. Or to the local police. Thankfully, while the man didn’t know Izumi personally but being a neighbor of sorts, he knew where she lived and believed her when she told him she was her granddaughter. His concern clearly wasn’t eased since when he asked what happened to her shoes on the drive over, Inko had given him a confused look and with effort, looked down at her bare dirty bleeding feet.

All that running and it took a stranger for her to notice she hadn’t put her shoes back on before leaving the house. Upon arrival, the man knocked at front door and when her grandmother opened it, had a short discussion that ended with the man looking more mollified than before. Clearly, Izumi had put him at ease and held the door open as the man helped Inko out of his Daihatsu truck.

With painful effort on her part, Inko was helped to the upstairs bedroom, the guest one, not her old one. Once she was seated on the bed, leaning into the headboard for support her grandmother thanked the man, told him she could take it from here, and led the man out.

A short minute later, Inko heard her grandmother’s footsteps on the hardwood stairs, coming up fast and steady and entered the room. In her left hand was a green medical kit, a large one with the symbol of the red cross on its side and tucked under her right arm was a set of towels and washcloths. “First,” she began in a voice that spoke of experience and brokered no argument. It wasn’t angry, though that’s what Inko had expected. A scolding reprimand for doing something foolish and stupid. Instead, there was that kindness and patience that her grandmother carried like a wallet. “we need to get you out of those clothes and clean up your wounds before they get infected. Next, tomorrow you’re coming on a hike with me so we can cover the rest of what you need to know.”

The thought of doing anything tomorrow was enough to get a groan from her, knowing that her body was going to pay her back double but she refused to complain. She’d just given herself a hard lesson which luck had saved her from an even harder one. She would have still been out there baking in the sun and there was no point complaining.

Taking her grandmother’s hand, Inko was pulled to her feet and leaned against Izumi for support who barely seemed bothered by burden and helped her into the large guest bathroom. It was more than a little infantilizing to need her grandmother’s help to undress but not only did she accept the help, she was glad for it. Every limb and muscle barely cooperated when she wanted to do something. Twisting or bending was out of the question and trying to pull off her shirt had been more than difficult. So much so, that Izumi had to used the medical scissors to cut them off after the fifth failed try.

Once everything was off and she was seated on the bathtub edge, Izumi used a detachable shower head to began rinsing the dirt off. Starting at the feet and then up the body, making specific care of her elbows. To Inko’s relief, the fall had hurt much more than the cuts made. The lukewarm water stung where it touched, aggravating but clearing away the dirt and sweat, a murky runoff flowing down the drain. After it was all off, her grandmother opened the kit and with rubbing alcohol soaked cotton balls and a pair of tweezers, dabbed the open wounds.

Soon, even that was done and Izumi after rinsing out the tub, plugged the drain and began filling it was warm water. The bath was relaxing, quick, and once Inko dried off enough, Izumi dressed the cuts in gauze after one last rub down of alcohol. Then she left to bring in the suitcases from the car.

The whole affair had been silent, save for an exchange of yes-no questions like ‘Does this hurt? Do you think you can reach there?’ or instructions to follow such as ‘Bend your arm like this. Relax your hand, Child.’ Nothing more than that.

Inko spent it thinking and Izumi gave her time to think. The air wasn’t tense but vacant of inevitable discussion like two people at a dinner table knowing an unpleasant subject needed to be brought up but there was no need to ruin a good meal, it could wait until then. When Izumi came back into the bathroom with a set of clothes in her hands, Inko asked the only question she could as she put on her clothes, an exercise in trial and error to figure out what did and didn’t hurt. “How bad will it be?”

Her grandmother said nothing for a long moment and Inko worried that she wouldn’t answer. “It’s not going to be easy. For me it was like a craving, one that I worked hard to not to indulge but others in the past have described it as an addiction comparable to a drug and like a drug, you have to keep seeking more and more of to satisfy. If it’s like a drug, then I guess it depends of your willpower.”

Inko nodded silently. She only noticed the black book in her grandmother’s hands. Izumi set the book down on the end table next to the lamp. “Read this. You won’t get through it all tonight so I think you should start with my entries.” She said, making a point to tap the red bookmark inside. “They pertain to the more present issues and don’t read like some Shakespearean play.”

Inko nodded again and she nor her grandmother broached the subject any further. They both knew what had to be done and there was no point beating it in any further.

By the time Izuku had bounded back in, she’d managed to get back downstairs and had turned on the TV to some random channel. It was easy for her to put on a brave face for him as, after she got him to take a bath since he looked like he decided to roll down a few hills, he tried his best to tell her in a single breath how great the forest was.

“And the trees are so tall!!!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up to give scale. His wild gesture caused him to bounce on the living room couch a bit. While his enthusiasm was infectious, helping Inko smile through the sharp deep pains in her muscles, her chest ached. A mournful leftover for a past that was never going to come back and the fear of an unknown future tugging at her heartstrings. “You can see everything from up one of them.”

That got her to lift an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”

Her son got very quiet, a shocked look on his face that steady turned guilty. “Just guessed, you know?” She didn’t believe him. Her son was bright but he never ‘just guessed’ anything. The lie was only made more obvious by the sudden clinical interest her son picked up in the few blank spaces of wall in the living room. Coincidentally, it also happened that the wall kept him from looking at her.

“Young man.” She said, putting just the right tone to it and her son jumped a little at her voice. “I’m going to let it go, but don’t lie to me again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

#flipwrites

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