All Who Wander [Chapter 4 - EGGS]

[Chapter 3]


Izuku watched in awe as Mei fussed over her latest creation, babbling so quickly that he couldn’t even make out half of her words. He didn’t entirely understand what she was on about, until she attached a black box to the side of the pile of tubes and began stomping on it, forcing air through the system with her steps, and before his eyes a little tent began to rise and take shape. The tubes criss-crossed and overlapped in a neat little pattern, spreading upward as they inflated, pulling with them a sheet of thick fabric. Fully inflated, the structure formed a dome, tall enough to walk straight inside without even having to duck through the door. When Mei waved him in, he obeyed with glee.

“This is amazing,” he gushed. “It feels so sturdy and roomy, not like that little tent the trader uses. And it was so quick to set up!”

“I wanted you to have somewhere to call home,” Mei explained, her enthusiasm finally calmed a little. “It’s easy to set up in the dark or in a small space, it won’t let the rain in, and it should stay nice and warm during the colder weather. If it gets too hot, there are vents in the roof you can open up, but I don’t recommend it in the rain. I’m still working on a solution for that.”

“It’s more than enough, Mei. It’s amazing. Thank you so much for this.”

“I’m just glad I could help.”

They stepped back out together, and Mei removed the little box-pump, the air slowly beginning to deflate from the tent and let it sink back down to the ground.

“I think you could leave your bedding in there too,” she added. “It’ll make the pack a little bulkier, but it’ll save you from carrying an extra bag just for blankets.”

“I love that idea, thank you.”

“I’ll show you how to pack it away in a minute, that’s not too hard either.”

Inko hurried outside before they could even turn around all the way, a bag in each hand, and Izuku smiled to himself softly. So much for not many bags.

“I made you this!” she explained, handing him a bag that felt surprisingly soft. “The blankets are sewn together, so you don’t have to fuss around with bedding, and it just rolls up into this little pouch here, underneath the pillow! Your father used to have something similar, in his travel days, so I did my best to replicate it!”

“That’s brilliant, Mom. Thank you so much! It’s perfect.”

Mei gestured toward the deflated tent, and Izuku put it inside obediently, right in the middle of his floor area. She flipped up the edge when he’d finished, showing him a long rope threaded through the base, and when she pulled it through, it cinched the fabric in with it, compressing the tent down into a little bundle that folded in on itself in an instant. His best friend really was a genius.

“This one is your father’s old backpack,” Inko added, when they were done packing up. “I’ve put some good potatoes in it for you, and a little pot you can cook them in. It’s a bit bigger than your bag, so I thought you could get your clothes in there too, so you’ll have more room to carry things.”

“Are you sure?” he asked warily, not quite willing to reach out and grab it. “What if I damage it?”

“It was made to be used, not to sit in a closet. If it gets damaged you can either get a new one or bring it home for me to fix for you. I won’t be upset.”

With a little nod, he finally accepted, and Inko smiled as she watched him shove his own tiny satchel into the much bigger bag. Honestly, considering his satchel was more book than clothing, he was grateful for the extra space.

“The way down is steep,” Inko reminded him. “Try to hurry to the bottom before you set up camp, if you can. The town is a little further, but you can tackle that in the morning!”

“Thank you so much, Mom. And you too, Mei. I love you guys, I’m gonna miss you! But I’ll be back really soon, I promise!”

Mei and Inko shared a wry smile, but Izuku didn’t bother to ask – he knew how they were, when they got those expressions on their faces. Apparently it was just girl stuff or something, stuff he’d never truly understand.

He hitched his bag up onto his back, then picked up the tent bundle, slinging it over his shoulder. It was surprisingly light, nice and easy to carry, even with the little pump-box stuffed in the top to go with it.

“I love you,” he said again, hugging his mother tightly. “Thank you for everything.”

“I love you too,” she assured him, valiantly holding back her tears. “Travel safe, Izuku.”

He only looked back one time as he walked away, as he crested the edge of the hill, about to drop out of sight. Inko had lost her composure, bawling her eyes out while Mei comforted her awkwardly, and it took every ounce of Izuku’s willpower to smile and wave instead of running back to cry right along with her. But he steeled his nerves and waved one last goodbye, hurrying over the edge of the hill, and finally letting his own tears start to spill over when he was far enough that they wouldn’t see it.

It was only a day’s trip to get down to the bottom, and maybe two or three to get back with how steep it was, so he was hardly going to be far away – if he really wanted, he could be back in less than a week. He suspected that wouldn’t be a very productive trip, though – he and Mei had foraged from the hill before, after all. It was their best source of mushrooms, while the potatoes grew better further east. It was also where they cut a lot of their firewood throughout the year, to keep the little drying shed between their houses full, without completely deforesting the potato woods instead.

So no, what he needed was to go further. To see what was at the bottom of the hill, if nothing else, and what was in the own. If it was all just more potatoes he wasn’t sure what he was going to do – the next town was days away, according to what their travelling trader said, and he couldn’t imagine going all the way there only to find more potatoes. He didn’t want to give up, especially without even trying, but he wasn’t sure exactly how far his morale would stretch.

He hoped he wouldn’t have to find out.

The walk through the forest was peaceful, and full of excitement once he got through the fear of failure. There were birds around, chirping in the treetops, and the sun shone through the leaves, paving his way with light and warmth. He didn’t dare start looking for food right away, could never make Mei scavenge further than necessary to feed everyone, but his mind was already running wild with possibilities.

He took his first break when he reached a little patch of damp grass, a few tree stumps lining one edge. It was the furthest he’d ever been, the point where he and Mei knew – from learning the hard way – that they had to turn around and hurry to get home before dark. He sat down on one of the stumps to give his legs a break, already grateful that it was all downhill. He knew it wouldn’t be anywhere near as easy when he went the other way, that he’d have to find some spots where he could wedge his little tent in and hope he didn’t just roll down the hill in the middle of the night. Maybe once he’d used it a few times, he’d be more accustomed to the size and shape of it, would be better at picking out spots – surely there were some flat-ish patches where he’d be able to squish it against a tree or two for extra safety.

When he opened his bag, he found a little cloth-wrapped parcel of thinly sliced potatoes inside, cooked up all crispy and crunchy. They’d been his favourite snack as a kid, and it made him teary-eyed all over again to see them, to take a bite and feel it snap in his mouth. Inko had even used some of their tiny collection of salt, bought when the trader last visited, before the winter made it too difficult to visit them. They were running incredibly low, but still she had spared some for his first lunch away from home. She really was the best mother in the world.

When he set off again, it was with renewed vigour. He owed it not just to himself, but to Inko, to make his trip worth it. He’d left her alone in their little cottage, without her main food-provider, and he had to make that count for something. So as he walked, he imagined what the look on her face might be when he brought home something new and special. She’d be shocked, most likely, all wide-eyed and jaw-dropped. She wouldn’t believe he’d actually managed to find something, to bring her back a treat just like he’d promised. Or maybe she’d just be excited, all gasping and hand-clapping. She believed in him, after all, so maybe she wouldn’t be surprised at all when he returned successful.

When the sun began to fall low in the sky, casting pinks and oranges over his head, Izuku began to get nervous. He could see the bottom of the hill, could see where the land began to flatten out, but he wasn’t there. And despite how long he’d been able to see it, it didn’t feel like it was getting any closer. Part of his brain screamed at him to find a flat-ish spot and get set up before the world got completely dark, to be warm before the cold night set in, but he justcouldn’t bring himself to stop. Instead, he lifted his pace, hitched his bundle up on his shoulder, and kept moving.

The cold quickly washed through his body, the winds going straight through his woollen coat. It was deliciously warm when he was indoors, knitted nice and thick with the rare gift of wool that had come their way a few years ago, but it didn’t do much to keep out those tiny tendrils of air that whistled through the trees, chilling him to the bone. His face was numb, his teeth chattering, but still he kept putting one aching foot in front of the other, gasping ice-cold air when he finally hit flat ground.

He couldn’t see more than a foot in front of his face, but he knew the trees had thinned out from the lack of them hitting him in the head, so he dropped his bundle to the ground and plugged the pump in with trembling hands, using his last dregs of energy to stomp on that black box, to fill the tent with air and watch it stand. It wasn’t often that one of Mei’s inventions paid off so quickly, but he wasn’t sure what he’d have done without it, in that moment. His blue-tinged fingers definitely did not have the dexterity to assemble a tent like the trader’s one, and if he’d had to sleep outdoors, exposed, he was pretty sure he’d never have gotten home.

As it was, he barely found the dexterity to seal the curtain-door behind himself, tying the thin ropes that kept it tight against the rest of the fabric, with sloppy knots that would be lucky to hold through the night. But finally, he’d made it into the shelter, away from the freezing winds and into his blankets. Once again he was grateful for the ease, when he just slid into a bag of blanket rather than have to lay out a bed – even his pillow was already sewn in, there was nothing he had to do except get warm.

In the morning, he’d continue the next part of his journey – to meet the townspeople, to see what they ate, and to figure out his next steps for his journey. But for the night, his only job was to rest.

─

When the sunrise gently roused Izuku from his slumber, he took a moment to just roll over and stretch a little, humming contentedly as he let himself wake slowly. It was definitely a new experience, to wake up on the hard ground, cushioned only by a layer of blanket and his familiar old pillow. It wasn’t an unwelcome one, though, by any means – sure, he was a little stiff, but he was also on an adventure and a rock-shaped bruise on his back was not going to ruin that for him.

He crawled out of his tent, shivering a little in the cool morning air, his woollen jumper pleasantly warm from the night but still no match for the wind. Maybe in one of the towns he visited, they’d have some kind of solution for that – it would be fascinating to learn not just what other towns ate, but what they wore, what they did for fun, what kind of houses they had. There was just so much to learn!

His plan had been to set up a little fire and cook himself some breakfast, but mostly he just wanted to get moving again – to get his blood flowing, to get some shelter in the trees, and to see exactly how far it was to get to the town. His mother had said it wouldn’t be far from the bottom of the mountain, so he hoped it would be a nice, quick trip, and he could sort himself out a hot breakfast when he got closer.

As he packed up his tent, he couldn’t help but notice how empty the area around him was. The slope behind him was all covered with trees, only thin paths winding their way through; the path ahead was lined with trees either side, casting shade over the little walkway; and around him, at a distance, those trees continued to sprout in a near-perfect square around his clearing. There were long, straight lines in the ground, demarcating something that had once stood there, but whatever it had been seemed to be long gone.

With his tent packed up, and his bag on his back, he set off down the path. The ground was nice and level, a welcome reprieve from the careful steps he’d been forced to take the day prior, and with the trees offering a little protection from the wind, it quickly became a rather pleasant stroll. He could hear birds high in the trees, chirping their morning songs, and the dirt beneath his shoes made soft little crunch sounds as he moved, beating out a little rhythm. If he had been a little more musically inclined, he might have burst into song.

When the forest began to thin out again, a new sound broke out over the music – a young voice, all high-pitched and excited, calling something he couldn’t quite make out. He lifted his pace a little, rounding a corner, but when his eyes fell on two smiling people, his legs ceased to function. He just stood there on the border of forest and town, staring at the two early risers, watching the little girl swing on a wooden fence as the taller man swung it open carefully.

“Weeee!” the girl called, giggling. “Faster, Mirio!”

She stepped off when the gate reached its full extension, stomping on a bolt to keep the gate in place, and Izuku watched with wide eyes as they led two massive creatures out to a grassy field. He’d never even seen an animal so big before, and he was honestly a little intimidated – one of those things could crush him if it wanted to.

The man turned around, and he, too, froze in his tracks. His eyes met Izuku’s, and for a moment neither of them spoke, until Izuku’s lips stretched into a wide grin.

“Hello!” he called, taking a step forward boldly. “Sorry to bother you, I hope I didn’t startle you!”

The girl whirled around, eyes shining, and the man just laughed brightly, beckoning for Izuku to join them.

“Welcome!” he called, as Izuku hurried their way. “So sorry for the shock, we don’t get visitors around here often. I’m Mirio, and this here is Eri.”

“My name is Izuku! It’s so nice to meet you both!”

“Are you a trader?” Eri asked eagerly. “Or are you lost?”

“Uh... Well, neither? I live in a little village at the top of the hill there,” he explained, pointing off toward his home. “We had a pretty long, hard winter, and I decided it was time to come explore the towns nearby, to learn about... well, you!”

“Me?” Eri asked. “I’m Eri and I’m nine and I help Mirio with the cows!”

“The cows?”

“Buttercup and Sprinkles!” she explained, pointing toward the two big beasts. “Buttercup is very funny and always says hi when I walk past, Sprinkles likes to just eat grass in the corner instead.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Izuku said warmly, looking up at the swishy-tailed black-and-white cows. “I hope to learn all about you.”

“It must have been a cold walk to get here,” Mirio mused. “I’m gonna go put some milk on the stove, so we can all get warm. Would you like to join us for breakfast? We usually just have eggs, but our chickens do lay delicious eggs, even if it’s nothing special.”

“Eggs?” Izuku asked, blinking at him in confusion. He didn’t remember seeing eggs in his Dad’s book. “I’d love to try an egg.”

“You’ve never had eggs?” Eri asked in disbelief. “Never ever?”

“No,” Izuku admitted. “Um, actually I’ve never had milk before, either. Well, except when I was a baby, of course.”

“I promise we don’t get our milk from random mothers,” Mirio smiled wryly, hiding his surprise well. “That’s what Buttercup and Sprinkles here are for. They’ve been a little short-supplied lately, but hopefully with the warmer weather they’ll pick back up soon!”

“Oh, please don’t waste it on me, then!”

“Nonsense. Come, we’ll have a nice breakfast together. Eri, do you want to go get the eggs while I start the milk?”

“Uh-huh! Mister Izuku, do you wanna come see the eggs? Have you met a chicken before?”

“I haven’t,” Izuku smiled softly. “Do you think it’d be okay?”

“Yeah! They like making new friends!”

He glanced at Mirio, but found no hesitation in his face, just a big smile and a quick nod to confirm it was okay.

“I’ll go get started, then, and you can bring Izuku in when you’ve got the fresh eggs!”

“Okay! Come with me, Mister Izuku!”

She led the way to a little wooden building, a lot of noise coming from within, and when she hauled open the big door, Izuku was met with a cacophony of squawking and flapping. Inside were the weirdest birds he’d ever seen, all fat and round, and Izuku marvelled as Eri began to greet each and every one of them by name. From a big wooden barrel she scooped handfuls of some sort of seed, and as she scattered it over the ground, the chickens flooded in to meet her.

“While they eat, we can take the eggs!” Eri explained, leading Izuku over to a row of wooden boxes, each lined with a thick layer of dried grass. “Sometimes they lay them in other places, but mostly they nest in these spots.”

It finally began to dawn on Izuku as he watched her dig through the grass, plucking out little oval objects and setting them carefully in a basket.

“This might be a silly question,” he began slowly. “Are eggs... baby chickens?”

Eri looked back at him, blinking in surprise, but she quickly covered it with a smile again.

“Not these ones!” she assured him. “They need a boy chicken to make them into babies, and we don’t have a boy chicken right now.”

“Oh,” Izuku nodded faintly, trying to hide his awkwardness. “Sorry, I’ve never seen eggs before.”

“It’s okay!” Eri assured him. “Other birds have their babies through eggs, too! Like the ones in the forest!”

“That makes sense,” Izuku acknowledged. “There aren’t many birds in our forests back home, either. There are much more around here.”

“That’s sad, I like birds.”

“Me too,” Izuku smiled again finally. “Thanks for letting me meet your chickens.”

“You can come visit them whenever you want!”

“Thank you, that’s very nice of you.”

“Let’s go have breakfast!”

With her basket sufficiently full of eggs, Eri showed him back to the house, leaving the barn doors propped open for the chickens to get some air. She pushed open the door without hesitation, and Mirio greeted them both with another big smile, gesturing toward the little wooden table in the middle of the room.

“Come have a seat and warm up,” he instructed, “And you can tell us all about your adventure!”

“Well, it’s only just started,” Izuku said sheepishly, sitting down all the same. “It only takes a day to walk down the hill, so I left bright and early yesterday, camped out overnight, then came and met you!”

“Is that what your big bag is?” Eri asked, pointing at the bundle of fabric Izuku had left near the door. “For sleeping in?”

“Uh-huh! My best friend made me a special tent, kinda like the ones the traders use; it’s very cool. I’ll show you some time, if you want. It gives me shelter, and I have some blankets from my mom to keep warm.”

“Where did you camp?” Mirio asked. “Nearby?”

“There was a little clearing at the bottom of the hill, just through the trees. It didn’t take me long to get here.”

“Oh, the old farm!” Mirio nodded knowingly. “No one uses that space anymore, so feel free to leave your tent there if you like. No one will touch it.”

“Really? No one would mind?”

“Not at all! There are only one or two people who still go through that forest at all, and they won’t mind if you use the space. An old man used to grow plants there when I was a little kid, but he moved on when things stopped growing. It hasn’t been touched in at least fifteen years.”

Bubbling from the stove brought Mirio back to his feet, and soon he was scooping a white liquid from the pot, pouring it into three stone cups. He set one down in front of Izuku first, leaving himself for last, and Izuku picked it up eagerly to investigate. The mug was warm under his hands, already radiating a pleasant heat through his cold fingertips, and the drink inside smelled a little sweet. When he took a small sip, he was surprised by how thick and smooth it felt, but he couldn’t even begin to describe the flavour, even in his own head. It wasn’t even comparable to any of the items the trader had brought them over the years – in fact it almost tasted like the opposite of the salted potatoes he’d eaten the day before.

“It’s delicious!” he gushed, when Eri looked at him expectantly. “Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad you think so,” Mirio chuckled. “The whole village basically lives off milk and eggs, it’s so interesting to meet someone who has never had them!”

“Did you have other things, once? You said the man used to grow things here.”

“We still do, occasionally. But less often every year, it seems. Some of the trees in the forest still sprout cherries occasionally, and of course we have our radishes, but there’s a lot we can do with our milk and eggs!”

“Radishes?”

Mirio just blinked at him, but Eri didn’t have the same self-control, her jaw dropping as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“You don’t have radishes?”

“All I have is potatoes and sometimes mushrooms.”

“Potatoes?” Mirio prompted, when Eri just stared. “We don’t have those.”

Izuku didn’t know what to say to that. He’d always thought that everyone had potatoes, and that maybe other towns had extras to go along with them – he’d never considered that there were towns without potatoes, too.

“I’ll cook you some,” he offered finally. “I brought a few with me to live off of, so I can cook some up for you guys, too!”

“How about dinner tonight?” Mirio suggested. “I’m sure Aizawa won’t mind if Eri wants to have dinner with us.”

“My Dad!” Eri explained, before Izuku could ask. “He’ll say it’s okay!”

“He’s welcome to have some too!” Izuku assured them. “Maybe I could try one of your radishes some time, too? If you have some to spare?”

“Of course,” Mirio agreed. “Now I understand why you were so excited to visit!”

Mirio stood up, then, taking the pot of milk from the stove to refill their mugs, and Izuku smiled gratefully as he accepted. They sometimes made potato soup at home, to warm them up in winter and stretch their supplies a little further, but drinking hot milk was a whole different experience from eating soup. He only wished Inko and Mei were there to share it with him.


[Chapter 5]