Lol- so this chapter's shorter then usual too

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Life for the next two days were relatively quiet. 

Less talking, more doing- and much more looking.

The stranger I had taken in went all but silent, resigning himself to whatever fate he convinced himself he now had by having lil' ol' me lending a helping hand. He would flinch when I cleaned his wound, have a visible struggle to hold his mouth shut when I did talk to him, and all things considered, had mentally locked himself up in his mind.

Like I said. Silence, filled with helping actions, and that incessant mean stare he gave me.

Thankfully, I had Weasel with me, as cute and as dopey as ever. Strangely enough, when I left for work, he stayed in the tree fort, guarding it in a small sense.

As to what the stranger thought of the dog companion when you were away, he didn't say. Of course he wouldn't

But now, in the current time, I had been awake for more then a minute, listening to the shrill cry of the rooster's crow. Weasel was sitting close to where I slept in the corner of the structure, tail waggling rather gently as he stretched the remains of sleep out of his system. Blondie was in the center, testing and extending his arms, flexing his fingers while he was at it.

The strong muscles of his biceps rolled under his skin with his small movements, and the consequential flinch when he sprawled too far and stretched the still very sensitive and fragile laceration was predictable.

Standing, I glanced over at him, his own suspicious eyes doing the same.

"Careful- wouldn't want to open it again." Was all I said, his lack of silence over the past two days making my comments much more flat.

The lack of enthusiasm was returned, as he continued to stare at me with the rubies he calls eyes.

The squint of his face made it look like he wanted to say something back- retort a yell of sorts, but he withheld it, biting back his tongue and staring becoming more intense then before.

Brushing past him, I took a peek outside of my tree fort. The early morning light and breeze caressed my face in a steady stream.

Pleasant.

"I'm heading out- keep the fort while I'm gone."  I didn't spare a look behind me to see if he acknowledged, as I already knew it would be returned with silence.

Weasel barked, running up to me and wagging his tail. I grimaced at the slobber on his mouth, but gave him a few pats on the head nonetheless.

Continuing onward towards the field, I was surprised to see the dog following, thinking back on the times he'd stay to guard the tree fort.

I don't know what's changed, but oh well, taking him with me couldn't hurt.

For most of the walk, I was stuck in my own mindless thoughts. Thoughts about the stranger- and how I could get him to eat. Yes, he still refused to eat- and I could see him growing weaker with each new day. His body needs the energy, and yet, his stupid mentality of not taking help from others is gonna be his death.

Weasel ran ahead of me, scouting out land, before coming barreling back towards me, repeating the process all through the walk over.

When I finally did reach the field, I was surprisingly early. Only a few other people had gathered around, talking to themselves about their awful lives.

I mentally agreed with them. Living under King Endeavor was actually pretty sucky. Working without purpose in fields, and a slowly failing kingdom entailing most of people lives here. The only thing that King was good at, was fighting wars.

Nonetheless, I took my place, raising my hands and channeling my quirk. I felt inexplicably depressed feeling today, and quite simply, I blamed it on that blonde barbarian.

Taking a knee, my breath faltered as the field finished growing. Weasel was my only comfort this time licking my hand with a whine and bark. Perks of being early enough, I suppose, it was nice to not have those two boys pat your back.

Brownie and Red that is.

It's embarrassing to be weak in front of others.

Finishing my small rest I stood, lowly accepting that today was just another day of work- backbreaking and sweat inducing work.

More people filed onto the field, and that once pleasant morning sun began to become an intense heat.

"Hey!!" A familiar voice cried out.

Turning to look behind myself, there came running and waving the two aforementioned boys.

Brownie was the first to reach me, running at me with a smile; Red was on his heels.

Yes, joyful as always was he, but his grin faded the closer he got to me. From happy, to slightly concerned looking, to downright bewildered.

A few feet away from me and he had stopped completely, staring.

But not at me, no no. His stare was focused on Weasel, and Weasel's doey eyes were on him.

At breakneck speed they both tore off, dirt flying with how hard they had began to run.

I squinted at them, confusion evident the moment Brownie wrapped his arms around Weasel's scruffy neck.

"AAH- MY BOY!!" Brownie was on the verge of tears, smile strewn so far against his face it looked like it hurt.

Weasel barked and whined in his excitement, licking Brownie's face with quick flicks of his head.

They sat on the ground, hugging it out- and I couldn't have had been more confused.

Did they know each other??? Did Red know him???

Stalking closer to the pair, you stood next to Red, still eyeing the pair in question.

Suddenly, Brownie looked to you, eyes still watery as he started fanning his face, "Sss- Ah- I'm gonna cry...! Did you find my boy for me???"

I stood awkwardly for a second, before remembering that a few days ago he had mentioned missing a dog. Of course- the nice dog I find already belongs to someone- it had to be that way, didn't it.

Rather then start a fuss about it, I nodded, pursing my lips before forcing on a closed smile, "Yeah- I suppose I did."

Red patted my shoulder, giving me a small thumbs up, and Brownie couldn't stop repeating 'thank you.'

It was touching- I'll admit. I had the empathy to place myself in the boy's shoes and see how happy he was to find his dog.

But, it made me feel bitter at the same time. The dog had been my sole form of comfort for three days, especially when dealing with that blonde stranger. I know, three days isn't long, but my heart always went sore for animals and younger humans of the sort.

Sighing, and giving one last glance at that weasel of a dog, I resigned myself to knowing that he'd be going home with someone else.

Turning away, I grabbed my sickle, stubbornly wishing I didn't need to work today.

Brownie grabbed a sickle, and Red had his quirk- so the both of them followed quickly after me.

Along with the both of them, came weasel, waggling tail still wagging at finding his original master.

Swallowing the spit that accumulated in my mouth out of nervousness, I turned my back, swinging away at the wheat.

Several minutes in, and I was expecting to hear gossip. Mindless chatter about rumors and political affairs.

Yet everyone had been working in relative silence. Several groups of men, teenager and adult alike, banded together on their own side of the field. All of them were whispering unnaturally low to each other, and I couldn't have been more curious if I tried.

As casually as I could I made my way closer to them, quietly humming a tune, while swiping and bundling the wheat.

All things considered, it took awhile to get closer to them, but when I could just make out their whispers I stood still, straining my ear to eavesdrop on them.

"--Going to keep being like that."

Jumping into the conversation late, I didn't quite know what the teenager was talking about. The teen continued, "No, not unless our king gets it together-"

Abruptly, an elderly looking man cut in, beard dirty and long with years of work, "Everyone knows he isn't going to care about the peasants- he didn't care when he first took the throne." He shook his head, furrowing his bushy gray eyebrows, "There are other things that are too important to him- like wrangling his disobedient child."

A younger adult stepped up, looking a bit disheartened, "He doesn't give a shit about us." He glanced around at the group, "I would say mutiny, but honestly, we aren't trained, and Endeavors armies are too large."

The elder squinted his eyes, "Quiet down boy, there are eyes and ears for the King where you'd least expect it."

The elder looked around the area after that, meeting eyes with me and looking shocked to find someone eavesdropping. His sudden staring drew the attention of others, and soon, everyone turned to look at me.

They took action immediately, several young men jostling up towards me with a small frown and squints to their eyes, "What'd you hear girl?" One of them questioned.

I froze. A quick pulse of adrenaline shot down my spine, and I looked forward and into their eyes.

Ooh shoot. Oh hot diggity dog- I had to not look suspicious.

How do I not look suspicious.

Sucking up my last bit of courage, I pulled out the banter I usually reserved for my injured Blonde friend. Words shot faster then you processed them, the first thing that popped into your head spilling into the air

"Enough." You gave a sneer, "Enough to know that you hate that Fuckwad of a King too."

Oh gosh, I just said a curse- why did I do that- I'm going to look even more suspicious!

The men sneered back, looking somehow more approachable despite making a nasty face. No words were said, they just beckoned me to join their conversation.

"Weird how a woman would be as mean worded as you are." One of them said, shaking their head but allowing me to sit in on their conversation nevertheless.

I just let out a strangled noise, a disgusting amount of sweat raking my body as I stood alongside the several men.

They better not get any ideas, because so help me- I will slap someone.

All of them took a moment to look at me, scrutinizing my being before turning back to each other.

"Back on topic- I agree with you." A lankier man had spoken up, "We should have a mutiny."

Another person rose their voice, "Yeah? With what army? Most of us are quirkless!"

The elder made a gesture to you, "This one is not."

At once several people laughed, "Hah- a woman can't fight. Plus, she has a growing quirk, how will that help a war?"

The elder shook his head, "I'm not sure you've seen what I've seen her father do." He looked to you, "Don't tell your father I said that."

You uncertainly shook your head yes, "A'ight."

After a bit of conversing about your father, you came to realize that maybe you had more potential then you thought.

Growing plants and stuff was always more a defensive thing in your mind. Growing a line of tree's that leaves no room to slips past, for example.

But from what they said about my dad... oh boy.

It's apparently rather versatile.

Offense, defense- sometimes even stealth.

Where and how this old dude witnessed these types of things, I didn't know.

Honestly, Where, in all of Dad's 35 years of life, could he have wiped an invading army out, taken the job of a thief for hire, and still manage to have a wife, kids, and a job at growing food.

Bamboozled, that's what I was.

I brushed it off though. I can question him once he gets back from his trip to the church.

Talking and working continued as that, me wandering with them as they gossiped like old women.

Cut, tie, place.

Cut, tie, place.

A process that grew stale and old as fast as it started.

My interest was drawn as one of the shyer looking teenagers spoke up.

"I heard something rather disturbing the other day."

Everyone else went quiet as he began looking for the right words.

"I went into town for an errand my mother sent me on. Late at night." He looked increasingly nervous as he continued, "These men were talking and laughing- soldiers."

"They uh- they said that they saw... him... somewhere around this area."

Several of the men dropped their mouths open in shock, while others froze their sickles as they turned to the boy.

"Well- where specifically!"

The boy rose his hands up in a surrender motion, looking rather frantic, "I'm not sure! It was in this area! All I know is that one of the soldiers had gotten a swing in on him!"

Any man who hadn't stopped swinging, stopped now, turning to him in absolute shock, "Did they kill him?"

Another spoke up, "Tell us boy!"

"No! They didn't!" He looked a bit shaken with how intense everyone had gotten, "They just injured him- very badly- he managed to get away- and with all the rain they said they couldn't track him!"

"God-" One of the men said, "We're all gonna die here, aren't we?" He rubbed his head, "That Barbarian gets hit once, and comes back stronger- relatives of mine have died to that man."

People went silent. Stock faces replacing their normal looks as they simply stared at the boy, rethinking their life for all they were worth.

I could say the same for myself. Only much more intense.

All the circumstances seemed to perfect to be true. Rain- a big enough wound to leave a trail of blood?

All the jewelry and barbaric garb clearly pointing towards the man's real identity.

Katsuki Bakugou.

I didn't want to jump the gun and say the person I just so happened to save was this man- but what else was I to do. Everything fit too precisely into the story that had played out before me.

Gosh, did I want to throw myself off a cliff. Found him, kept him from the rain, warmed him, gave him water- I even tried to feed him. A murderer.

A murderer that cried right in front of me because of how embarrassed he was that he got hurt.

I can't feel sympathy, I definitely shouldn't be feeling empathy.

Yet I was.

Man- I sucked as a person.

Glancing up at the men, who had similarly finally regained focus of their thoughts, they continued working.

The field was silent that day.

And I wanted nothing more than to hug Weasel, run my fingers over his bristly fur.

He wasn't mine though. He wasn't even with me anymore.

Working that day was harder then it ever was.

Walking home, even more difficult.

Did I really want to see that murderer again? Greet his face with a sarcastic edge?

Did I really want to keep him alive?

Let's be fair- if I kicked him out now, he'd be able to survive. He had too much will power not to survive.

Arriving to the front of my hut, I walked in, rubbing a hand over my face, as I reached into the wooden box for a piece of bread.

The food didn't help.

I ate it nonetheless.

Procrastinating couldn't be taken any longer, and with wary feet, I cautiously made my way to the hut.

Lingering near the entrance, I saw him glance to me, red eyes looking at me with the intense stare he always gave.

His mouth was closed tight, and I didn't bother to greet him.

I simply walked in, grew a strawberry bush next to him and fell into the ground face first.

I didn't want to see his stare.

Sitting like that made me feel vulnerable though. I couldn't see if he made the move to kill. I couldn't monitor him if he decided I was too annoying.

Peeking my eye out from the grass, he was still staring, giving me an almost nonchalant look. He seemed less peeved then usual.

More... worried?

I didn't think that word could properly describe him, but I labeled him as that anyway.

I closed my eyes, and sighed heavily.

I didn't want to be in this room anymore.

"Hey..."

The Blonde said.

I said nothing, simply keeping my closed eyes closed. What if he wasn't Katsuki Bakugou. What if he was just an angry dude who was stupid and hurt himself. What about Weasel, was he doing okay? Did he miss me? Would he help fight off this man if he tried to hurt me?

"You look more awful then usual." His frown was pulled tight to his face.

That sentence wast the spilling point- my cup was too filled to the brim to  handle anything, and someone had just slapped it off the table, in turn splattering it's contents all over the floor in messy and ugly splotches.

I pried one of my eyes open, tears welling up as I stared firmly at the grass blades. Not on the rubies past them.

Clenching my fist, I rolled over, away from Blondie.

In this moment, I felt myself relate to him more then I ever had.

Crying in front of someone else is fucking embarrassing-

The amount of vulnerability that comes with crying is honestly too much to really handle, and it just made my sobs come out faster.

I didn't know what he thought of this, based on his other reactions and apparent personality, he probably scoffed, rolled his eyes, turned his head- anything to show that he didn't care, and that you were just some annoying person.

Against odds, you weren't expecting a grumble come from him, "Ah. The dog's gone."

That, combined with the fact that you knew he was still staring made you you the same words he said to you.

"Don't look at me." My voice came out scratchy, stuttering, and an utter mess, but he regarded what I said, and turned the other way with a shuffled and flinch.

With an almost sarcastic reply, he said, "Damn fucking onions. You should kill your boss."

Gosh, did I feel so twisted in that moment. If he was bad- why would he give any sort of comfort, even if it was a sarcastic and snarky play on what I had said to him.

He didn't sound like he cared, but I wished he did.

He didn't act like he cared, but I kinda wished he did.

Despite it all, I just kinda wished he was a friend.

Maybe he was.

Or maybe he'd kill me once he recovered.

Gosh- I didn't know and I didn't care- yet I cried anyway.

A lick from Weasel would have been nice, but the Blond's snark would have to do.