Chapter Text
Toshinori woke with a quiet groan, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. He didn’t know where he was currently, but it was no bother to him; he’d had a habit of fainting a lot as a child, and often woke wherever he’d been taken for safety. It had been less and less as he’d gotten older, so the reappearance of such a habit was a little concerning, but Toshinori had better questions on his mind.
Planting his feet on the ground, he looked in confusion at the feel of grass and dirt. Double checking the area around him, Toshinori reaffirmed that he was surrounded by four walls and a roof, then looked down to the floor again. His feet were bare, and he dragged one of them through the dirt as if that would make an illusion break. When it didn’t, Toshinori squared his shoulders and headed for the door to the room; unconventional flooring or not, he had to thank his host for not leaving him to the elements, and ask for directions back to his house.
Right before he reached the door, it burst open.
A woman walked in, looking at her hand intently. She was young looking, and very pretty, and Toshinori dropped into a kneel before he could think twice about it. He’d never seen her before, but he could recognize the aura around her, and the way small daisies bloomed at her feet as she walked.
“Nana.” He murmured in deference, and heard the little laugh she gave in response. It sounded warm, like a spring breeze, and he felt the warmth down to his bones.
“Well, now,” Nana said brightly, “none of that, please!” She bent down so that she was eye level with Toshinori, smiling brightly at him. “It’s ok. I’ve brought you here for a reason, Toshinori, and that reason wasn’t so you can grovel at my feet.” With a gentle hand, Nana stood and brought him with her easily, moving around him so that she could sit. As Toshinori turned, he watched as a chair sprouted by the bed he’d woken up on, molding itself from vines and branched easily.
Nana beckoned him to come closer as she sat, and Toshinori followed her orders wordlessly. He had no idea as to why she’d summoned him to her realm, but there was one thing he knew as a human in the presence of a God or Goddess, and that was never make them mad. For all that Nana was the Goddess of Spring, there was no telling what might anger a God. Toshinori felt that his best bet was not to take his chances.
Besides, if she was the one to bring him here, then she must have a reason. Toshinori was curious.
“So.” Nana said, hands on her knees. “You’re pretty devout, aren’t you? Yagi, Toshinori.” Pressing his lips together, Toshinori nodded once. It wasn’t a secret; he made many offerings, to Nana in particular, a habit that started in his childhood and persisted into his adulthood. The others may have laughed, calling him old-fashioned, but Toshinori was usually the one blessed with a bountiful harvest each year, so he didn’t mind that so much.
“I am, yes.” He said, when it became clear that Nana was waiting for a response. “I believe in the work of the Gods, and Goddesses, and I endeavor to keep them pleased in my favor.” It didn’t always work, of course; some Gods and Goddesses just couldn’t be swayed for anything, and the reminder made a lump grow in Toshinori’s throat. Nana seemed to realize that something happened, and she leaned forward. Flowers bloomed where her feet dragged on the floor, vines twisting and climbing her chair.
“Well!” She said joyfully, clapping her hands together. Toshinori looked at her, blinking rapidly, as she turned her head to the side and whistled. Toshinori looked at the door with her, and visibly jumped when the door opened and a short old man wandered in.
“What, Nana?” He grumbled, and Toshinori felt his throat close up in shock as he glared at him from below. Two deities in less than ten minutes, Toshinori was either very blessed or very cursed; he hadn’t decided which yet, because the old man spoke again. “Who the hell is this?”
“Yagi, Toshinori!” Nana said proudly, holding her hands out to him. “My heir!” There was silence for a moment; both men seemed to be thinking about what she’d said, digesting the words and mulling them over. Once it sunk in, they had very different reactions: Toshinori started stammering while the old man nearly bent over laughing.
“Oh, Nana, what?” He gasped. “This-This child? Really?”
“Hey!” Nana said. “Anyone’s a child when you’ve lived thousands of years!” She smiled encouragingly at Toshinori, who buried his face in his hands out of mortification. “This boy will do just fine, thank you very much! Some training and a bit of DNA, and we should be right as rain, Torino!”
“Heir for what, exactly?” Toshinori managed to get out. Nana and Gran Torino both looked at him, Nana smiling brightly and Gran Torino rolling his eyes.
“Well, Spring of course!” Nana said. Toshinori nodded once, as if that made everything make sense, except it didn’t. Spring wasn’t something to be passed down from person to person, like a family heirloom. It was a power, one held by the Goddess Nana.
“How, exactly?” Toshinori asked.
“Well.” Nana shared a look with Gran Torino, who settled on the ground beside Nana. “Toshinori, have you heard of the Passing of Spring?” Toshinori shook his head, and Nana sighed. “Ok, so…” She used her plants to help tell the story, an action that had Gran Torino smacking her arm in irritation.
“When the Earth was new,” she started, “there were only a few Gods and Goddess to help with its creation. Nezu, our leader, became God of Sky. Gran Torino became our God of Earth. Nemuri became Goddess of Sun, and Hirooki became of the Moon, and so on.
Now, the original God of Spring, I’m not really clear on. The original Gods and Goddesses barely remember him, as it’s been so long since he was here. What I do know is that the Power of Spring ended up overwhelming him, and before he passed into nothing he took on an apprentice to give his power to.
Spring is,” and here Nana paused for a moment, trying to think, “Spring is an eternal energy, with an emphasis on rebirth and renewal. There have been seven Spring Gods and Goddess, including me. Each of us have cultivated this power and made it our own before passing it on when our time has come. My time is nearing, Toshinori, and I need to find my own heir to pass Spring onto.”
“Which is where I come into play.” Toshinori summarized slowly. “You want to pass Spring on to me, so that I become the next God of Spring.”
“Exactly!” Nana said, beaming. “You’d be perfect, Toshinori, because I’ve been watching you for the past couple of years. Nighteye had told me, right around the time you would have been…what, seven, eight? Something like that. Anyway, he told me that you would be a potential candidate, and you’ve lived up to that.”
Toshinori was glad to be sitting down already, because this was a lot of information for him.
He had no idea he’d been watched by the Goddess Nana, though it made some sort of sense. He’d always had an affinity for plants and nature, and now he realized it might’ve been because Nighteye had foretold his arrival as Nana’s successor. Nana was placing a lot of hope on him, he could tell, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. On the one hand, he didn’t want to let Nana down, and the world would certainly suffer without Spring to bring them crops and whatnot.
To become a God, though…that had ramifications Toshinori wasn’t sure he was prepared to take on. He was barely decent as a human being, and he didn’t think he’d make for a very good God.
“This is a lot to drop on you.” Nana said, reaching out and taking Toshinori’s hand; he gripped it tightly, feeling a small modicum of relief that Nana seemed to understand his hesitation. “I understand that. I’m sorry to do this to you, Toshinori. If you’d like, I could give you a couple of days to think it over.”
“Nana, you’re running out of time!” Gran Torino said harshly. Nana shot him a look as she let go of Toshinori, a polite smile that hid a fierceness that Gran Torino ignored.
“A couple of days won’t kill me.” Nana said brightly, neatly sidestepping the elder God’s frustration. “What’s a couple of days to a Goddess? Toshinori is still human. He has much to consider, Gran Torino.” He muttered angrily but quieted, crossing his arms and glaring off to the side. Toshinori smiled uncertainly at Nana, who stood and gestured for him to follow her.
“Just don’t push it.” Gran Torino muttered as Toshinori walked past him, and Toshinori paused for a second before Nana grabbed hold of his wrist to drag him out. She was surprisingly strong for a Spring Goddess, for all that she was smaller than Toshinori, and Toshinori wondered a little about whether it was her own strength or from being a deity.
It was sunny outside, and open. Toshinori took in a deep, startled breath at the sight of the field of flowers Nana had, and the trees that lined the edge of her realm. It was beautiful, more so than any place on Earth, and Toshinori found himself thinking that he could get used to living in a place like this: all green and colorful, with nymphs racing each other through the flowers and gossiping under their trees.
“Just ignore him.” Nana said breezily as they walked side by side, her hand holding onto his elbow. Toshinori jumped at the sudden addressing, like he hadn’t expected her to speak, and Nana laughed. “Torino likes to worry a lot, and he always has. He knew my predecessor, and I think the one before him too.”
Toshinori hummed, letting his mind settle as they walked. The sun was warm, and there was a warm breeze that passed by every so often. Toshinori found himself admiring the trees and the flowers as they walked, and several nymphs giggles together as they walked past. They bowed in deference to Nana, but ogled and pointed at Toshinori by her side.
“I imagine they haven’t seen many humans before.” Toshinori told Nana, waving away her flustered apology and bending down to inspect a nymph. She smiled at him, ducking under the fern leaves that made up her hair shyly as she waved.
“They haven’t, no, but they shouldn’t stare so.” Nana gestured some away rather forcefully, making Toshinori laugh loudly. “Honestly, it’s like they’re all saplings all over again. It’s not like them to be so rude.” Nana huffed irritably, pushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s almost as if they haven’t seen a potential before.”
“Is this a thing?” Toshinori asked gently, his brow furrowing. Nana waved to someone else as they passed, humming questioningly at him as she did so. “This…transfer of powers. Is this a thing that happens?”
“It depends.” Nana said with a shrug. “Spring, yes. Even now, it’s getting to be too much power for me to hold. But not so much with some of the others. Nighteye has been our Foresight since the dawn of Gods. Nemuri and Hirooki have always existed, and Nezu. Torino’s been there from the beginning too, and Hizashi and Shouta. But some of the others…
Well. Our God of the Forge just recently came into his position. He’s only number two. And Flight is number four, I think. Four or Five. It has to do with the energy that goes with the position, and how well the original or newer Gods have handled it. Nemuri and Hirooki, for example, have impeccable control. Combined with the fact that they’ve not had an increase in power since the start of time means that they’ll hold on for millennia more.
But you…” Nana’s mouth twisted a little. “I’ve been Spring for nearly four thousand years, I think. And you, you will most likely make it to eight thousand, at least.”
“I’ve never heard of passing down powers.” Toshinori hummed. Nana laughed, through her nose as if that would hide her amusement, but patted his arm as they kept walking. “I think I would like to be the God of Spring. At least I like plants, and nature.” Nana stopped them, beaming up at Toshinori as if he’d made her day, and Toshinori felt his lips quirk upwards in return.
“Oh, Toshinori- - -”
“Is that Nana?” A voice cut across her, deep and questioning, and Nana stopped instantly. She turned her head to the side, Toshinori following her gaze, and saw the path they were taking blocked by two men. They were both tall, though one was slouched a bit, and thin.
The similarities ended there; the one who’d spoken scratched at the paleness of his throat, one red eye gleaming from underneath blue bangs and a palm against his face. He had more hands, covering his arms and legs, and Toshinori felt something shudder through him as he stared. This being was terrifying on his own, and it was made worse by the tall, silent being of purple mist beside him.
“Nana.” The man said, sounding pleased with himself, “how are you?”
“Did you need something, Shigaraki?” Nana asked tensely, and the man laughed. Still scratching as his throat, he hummed and shook his head. “Are you lost?”
“How can he be,” the mist replied, “when he has my guidance?” Nana pursed her lips, eyes hard as Shigaraki seemed to take notice of Toshinori. His scratching intensified, eyes alight with a weird sort of joy Toshinori had never seen before.
“Oh?” He said, sounding morbidly curious. “Who’s this? A human? A mortal! Nana, have you finally bent?” He took several steps forward, only stopping when Nana stepped in front of Toshinori firmly. His eyes landed on hers, and narrowed. When he spoke again, there was venom in his voice. “Am I so much of a threat, Nana? I just want to say hi.”
“You leave him alone, Shigaraki.” Nana said firmly, her voice laced with steel. “Don’t you dare.”
“You don’t order me around.” Shigaraki snapped back. His scratching got worse, somehow, drawing a thin line of blood. “I’m a God, just as you are, and I don’t appreciate- - -”
“Shigaraki.” The mist said coolly, hand reaching out and landing on his shoulder. Shigaraki didn’t move, then bent himself back in a way that thoroughly unsettled Toshinori. He hummed at the mist, who pulled him back gently. “Let’s not start a battle we can’t win.” Something unspoken passed between them, and Shigaraki sighed.
“Well,” He said brightly, and it was such a turn that Toshinori felt himself tense. “I suppose you’re right.” He raised his voice a little, sounding too pleased with himself as he did so. “Perhaps our new mortal would want to take Nomu for a challenge instead. He’s almost as big. Maybe he’s even stronger than the God of War.” He turned halfway, scratching at his neck still.
“Perhaps at our next gathering.” The mist said, almost patronizingly, and put a hand on Shigaraki’s shoulder. They vanished together, into an opening of darkness that swirled closed behind them.
Toshinori sighed, not realizing just how tense he was until his shoulders relaxed and his hands uncurled. Nana relaxed as well, her breath coming out as a long sigh that had her rubbing her head. Toshinori wanted to asked about them, but he’d known who they were: Shigaraki of the Forge and Kurogiri of Flight.
“I need you to do me a favor.” Nana said sternly, turning to face Toshinori. “Don’t let yourself be caught alone with them. I’d prefer if you didn’t interact at all, but…” She sighed again. “For all our realms, we still have to intermingle and connect. We need each other, much as some say we don’t.” She looked back to where they’d vanished, and Toshinori could tell she was deeply unsettled. “Just…be careful, around those two. They’re wild cards, so to speak.”
“I see.” Toshinori stared after them for a little longer, then turned back to Nana. Forcefully trying to bring back the previous air of ease, he grinned widely and rubbed his hands together. “So, what do I need to do to gain Spring’s powers?”