Chapter Text
“Just wait ‘til you see the ocean,” Rody said. Roro leaned against his shoulder, yawning. A second later, Lala yawned, too, going boneless. Rody had to shift to adjust his grip on her and make sure she didn’t slide off his lap altogether.
“The ocean…” Roro mumbled, burying his face in Rody’s shoulder.
“It’ll be blue,” Lala added, pressing her cheek to the lapel of Rody’s ratty old coat. Rody huffed affectionately, and within minutes, both of them were out cold, snoring all over him.
The bus lumbered along down the country road. The Soul siblings weren’t the only passengers, but they were among the few who’d stayed on the bus this long coming out of the city. An older woman up front was knitting and chatting with the bus driver, and there was a man around the age Dad would have been, asleep a few rows up from the Souls. Rody wondered if he’d slept through his stop or if he meant to come this far.
Roro snored a little when the bus hit a bump in the road and jostled him against Rody. Lala hummed sleepily. Rody inhaled deeply and slowly, glad that he’d downed a few cups of coffee before the ride began. Sure, he’d had to use the bathroom in the back of the bus twice—a life experience he didn’t necessarily need —but he was awake and able to keep an eye on his siblings. Weird, tiny, vacuum toilets were an easy price to pay for the contented rise and fall of Roro’s and Lala’s chests.
Rody missed the feel of a steering wheel gripped in his hands. It had been years since he’d sat anywhere but the driver’s seat. Since Dad, probably.
The car was old, though, and cost more to fix than it was worth. It covered rent for one more month, and one adult and two child bus tickets to the seaside.
The sun had just been waking up when they left. Rody had handed his sunglasses to Roro and his bandana to Lala for that hour or so that the sun was exceptionally high in the sky, and now it was tipping down into a summer afternoon haze. Buildings and traffic and noise had disappeared in the rear-view mirror two hours ago. Now it was all mountain paths and farmland.
“It’ll be better for Lala, the open spaces and salt air,” the doctor had said with a sympathy he hadn’t quite shown when Rody emptied out his pockets to scrape together just enough money to pay for the appointment. “Asthma this severe isn’t something to take lightly in children.”
At least he hadn’t made those faux-kind comments about whether Rody had ever considered family services. Twenty and going nowhere, Rody didn’t have a lot, but he had his siblings for keeps.
The bus driver’s speaker clicked on with a scrabble of static that startled both Roro and Lala out of sleep. An elbow jabbed Rody’s gut while the top of his sister’s head cracked into his jaw.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the driver said, “keep your eyes to the left side of the bus as we come around this corner.”
Roro and Lala looked at each other, eyes wide, then up at Rody. He grinned and waved them off, and the two scrambled out of their seats and climbed over him to cross the aisle and squish into seats on the left side of the bus. Rody stood, one hand massaging his jaw, and stretched until his back popped. The bus was coming around some sort of mini mountain—too big to be a ‘hill,’ but not exactly something hardcore climbers would set their sights on—and, as the driver had promised, the view when they rounded it was worth pressing noses up against the windows.
“It’s bluuuuuue!” Lala shrieked, sticky fingerprints smudging the window. Roro gasped with awe to match hers. The parent-aged guy sat bolt upright and looked around, harried, while the old woman twittered at the front of the bus. Rody smiled.
“So that’s the ocean,” he said.
Down the mini-mountain slope and past a curving road surrounded by lush green, the ocean sparkled blue right up to the horizon, spanning as far as Rody could see in either direction.
His little smile stretched into a full-blown grin, and Rody slid across the aisle to lean over his siblings. “Awesome?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Awesome!” they chorused, not even turning away from him to keep looking at the ocean.
“And that,” Rody said, pointing his index finger and pressing it right up against the window beside his siblings’ noses, “is where we’re going to live.”
Otheon Harbor. He could just make it out from here, its quaint rooftops clustered together by the seashore.
*
Rody hefted down the suitcases from the overhead compartment while the driver helped the older woman down the stairs out of the bus. Roro and Lala bounced on either side of him, reaching out grabby hands and needy fingers as if holding their suitcase handles would make time move faster.
“All right, all right, one at a time.” Rody set their suitcases down in front of them. “And you have to wait for me, or you can’t go!”
“Aww,” Lala said, obediently hopping in place next to her suitcase.
“Can we go to the beach?” Roro asked, pulling the handle of his roller suitcase up and down. Click-clack, click-clack.
“Tomorrow morning, first thing,” Rody promised. “Tonight, we’re just going to find our place and have dinner.”
“ Dinner!” Lala agreed emphatically, putting her hands over her stomach for emphasis.
“Uh-oh,” Rody said, trying to hide his smile. He shook his arms as he lifted his suitcase up from the compartment. “This is awful heavy...I don’t know if I can get it…”
“Yes, you can, you’re just being a butt!” Roro said.
“No...my weak little arms…” Rody groaned, struggling under the weight of his suitcase. Quite convincingly, in his opinion.
“Dinner!” Lala thundered. She threw her arms around Rody’s waist and he laughed.
“My strength! It’s returning!” He gripped his suitcase with both hands and held it up over his head.
Roro and Lala ran ahead of him down the bus aisle, Rody calling after them to slow down or they were going to trip. He followed them down the steps of the bus and made sure they thanked the driver, who smiled and nodded before turning back to the parent-aged guy who was insisting, red-faced, that he should have been woken up for his stop three hours earlier.
Otheon Harbor had a population in the hundreds, something Rody didn’t even know was possible. He’d been a city boy all his life, and the quiet all around them had a shiver running up his spine. They’d left a bus depot, with passengers rushing every which way and different terminals going in all directions, and arrived at a bench and a post at the end of a dirt road.
“Where are we going?” Roro asked.
“The Hearth Inn, on Apple Street.” Even the names of things sounded like they were out of a farming sim.
“What’s a hearth?” Lala asked.
“Like a fireplace,” Rody said.
“Fireplace?” Roro scrunched up his nose. “At the beach?”
“That’s the name of it, little dude.” Rody had asked himself the same question when he’d booked the place, though.
“So…” Lala blinked up at him. “Do we call a taxi?”
Rody’s fingers twitched once again for a steering wheel. “We walk.”
It wasn’t a long walk, there were no hills, and the kids’ suitcases had handles and wheels, but they still whined the whole way to the Hearth Inn. Rody held the door open while they tromped ahead of him.
The Hearth Inn was as cozy as its name. When Rody stepped in behind his siblings, he looked around the sitting room where squashy chairs surrounded an antique table, and little knick-knacks adorned the traditional mantles and doorways. The walls were painted a soft cream color, and the woodwork was all finely crafted.
“Hey, look!” Roro said, pointing. Rody followed his gesture to a little desk in front of a grand staircase. The desk was tidy, though also covered with little tea lights and teddy bears. No sooner had Rody identified a little bell on the desk, his siblings were racing to the desk to take a turn each at ringing it too many times.
“Hey!” Rody barked, crossing the foyer and dropping his suitcase to wrap an arm around both of their waists and pull them away from the desk. “Don’t be rude!”
“Coming, coming,” a woman’s gentle voice said, floating in from another room. Rody’s siblings stilled in his arms as the woman came through the door on the other side of the chairs and antique table. She was tall and beautiful in a way people were in paintings, her hair the palest blonde that Rody had ever seen, practically white, her eyes grey as winter skies. “Hello,” she said with a soft smile, passing the siblings and slipping behind the desk. “May I help you?”
“Uh, yes, ma’am, we have a reservation.” Roro and Lala had gone slack in his arms at the appearance of this innkeeping goddess, so Rody felt comfortable letting go of them and straightening. “Sorry about all the bell-ringing. I’m Rody Soul.”
“Oh, of course.” She put her hands together. “We spoke on the phone. I’m Rei Todoroki.”
It had been a weird experience, trying to figure out housing and apartments in this little village that time forgot. After a series of unhelpful phone calls with earnestly helpful people, Rody had somehow ended up on the line with Rei Todoroki, who assured him that, though her family owned an ‘inn,’ they were also the primary lodging for long-term boarders.
“It’s nice to meet you in person,” Rody said. She pulled out a leather-bound ledger and wrote down their family name in perfect penmanship. Rody was mesmerized at the sight of her careful hand making its way from the swooping S to the looping o-u-l. The soft light from a nearby lamp caught her ring, diamond and gold glinting on her left hand.
“The pleasure is mine. And who are your companions?” she asked, penning in the date next to their name.
“My brother and sister,” Rody said. “This is Roro and Lala.” They offered little hi s.
“How nice! How old are you?” Mrs. Todoroki asked.
“Twelve!” Roro said.
“Nine!” Lala said.
“Twenty,” Rody added. Lala shrieked with laughter, leaning into his side.
“She wasn’t asking you!” Roro said, looking genuinely horrified that Rody had answered.
Mrs. Todoroki laughed, the sound sweet as snowfall. “I’m glad to know, though. My youngest is your age, Rody.”
Rody had to do a double-take at that. This woman did not look old enough to be his mother, let alone to have other children older than that.
“Mrs. Todoroki?” another voice echoed out from the other room, this one younger and more masculine. Rody turned to see a young man coming into the sitting room/reception area/whatever this room was, a tool box in hand. His hair was a tangle of dark curls, his eyes the brightest green Rody had ever seen, and he had on a tee shirt and overalls that did nothing to hide his broad, athletic frame. “Pipes should be all fixed—oh. Hello.”
“Hi,” Rody said, wondering what this superhero-looking guy saw when he looked at him. Probably some scrawny city boy with hair that was too long and clothes that were too old and earrings that he fidgeted with too often. Including right now.
“Izuku,” Mrs. Todoroki said fondly. “Thank you for running over to help. You know how handy the men in my life are…”
Izuku grinned widely. “I’m telling Shouto you said that.”
“He knows. Don’t actually tell him, dear, he tries his best.” Mrs. Todoroki held up a set of keys on a square, wooden keychain. Rody could just see the delicate lines of rose petals etched into it. “Oh, this is Rody, Roro, and Lala Soul, our newest guests.” The kids had gone off into the sitting room to snoop around the books and magazines laid out for guests. Rody kept one eye on them as his host continued, “Rody, this is Izuku Midoriya. He owns Green Farm, on the other side of town.”
“Nice to meet you,” Izuku said, holding out a hand. Bewildered, Rody shook it. “Welcome to Otheon Harbor! What brings you three to town?”
“Lala’s asthma.” The truth tumbled out of Rody’s mouth before he could stop it. Shaking himself, Rody reminded himself that he didn’t need to lie to people here the way he did in the city. “Doc recommended getting out of the city.”
“The same thing happened to me!” Izuku said. His hand was warm and strong, scars that probably came from working the land curving over his palm, and Rody was almost sorry when he let go. “I was kind of a weak kid. Mom brought me out here to help make me strong, and it worked out pretty well.”
I’ll say. Mrs. Todoroki and her motherly energy was all that kept Rody’s mouth shut. He bet Izuku was really easy to fluster. There was something painfully sincere about his smile. “You stayed here, huh?”
“I’ve got the farm.”
“Right. Does your Mom live there, too, or in town?”
Izuku’s smile softened. “Mom passed last winter. It’s just me.”
“I’m so sorry.” And only a few months ago, just like the Souls. “Our parents are gone, too.”
Faint alarm crossed Izuku’s face, but he masked it well. That was a pretty typical reaction when people made the connection that Rody was both big brother and custody holder. “Oh, wow. If you need anything, especially while you guys are getting settled, just let me know.”
“Thanks.” Rody tried to keep the surprise out of his voice, but he knew from the uptick of his tone that he hadn’t quite succeeded. Offers of help in the city were few and far between, and mostly came from adults who looked down their noses at Rody. He could always hear the accusations of incompetence and immaturity in their sticky-sweet offers to take his siblings off his hands.
“You can carry their bags upstairs,” Mrs. Todoroki suggested with a pretty laugh.
“Oh, you don’t have to—” Rody started, at the same time Izuku said, “Of course!” Izuku squatted down and put down the extendable handles on Roro’s and Lala’s suitcases. Turning to Rody, he held out his hand. “May I…?”
“Uh.” Rody took his hand off his own suitcase, and Izuku clicked that handle down, too. He tilted all three suitcases onto their backs and stacked them on top of one another, picking the three of them up at once like they didn’t weigh anything. Rody stared.
“Room three,” Mrs. Todoroki said, as if Hercules over here weren’t balancing Rody Soul’s entire life like a few boxes of tissues.
“Yes, ma’am.” Izuku’s eyes twinkled when they landed on Rody. “Want me to show you your room? Mrs. Todoroki can keep an eye on the kids.”
“Okay.” After a fleeting moment of relief that he sounded less dry-mouthed than he felt, Rody followed Izuku in a daze up a beautifully-crafted wood staircase with an intricate banister.
“How long are you planning to stay?” Izuku asked. “It sounded kind of permanent, but I didn’t want to assume.”
“It’s pretty permanent,” Rody said. “We left our old apartment and everything. Um…” They reached the second-floor landing, and Izuku glanced over his shoulder with a reassuring look. He didn’t break stride on his way to a door with a brass 3 marker on it. “Actually, is there a work placement office in town, or anyone that you know who’s hiring?” Rody flashed a smile. “I have money for the room, don’t worry, but I’ll need more of it, and I didn’t want to ask in front of my host…”
Izuku stepped back to let Rody unlock the door, then Rody stepped back and let him carry in the luggage first. “It’s pretty easy to find part-time gigs around here. I’d say everybody in town needs a worker every now and then. Your best bets are probably the restaurant and the fishing shop. They’re always busy.” He set down the suitcases on the floor right against the wall.
Rody followed him into the room. Against one wall were two beds with flowery quilts and puffy pillows, and against the opposite wall where Izuku had put their suitcases was a bureau and a small writing desk. A little vase full of daisies sat atop the desk, golden in the sunlight coming through the window on the wall opposite the door. The wallpaper was buttery yellow, with a floral border up against the crown moulding. The room smelled like cinnamon and cloves, and Rody couldn’t help an appreciative inhale.
“Thanks for bringing up our stuff,” Rody said. “I could’ve done it myself, but not, like, in one trip.” Izuku chuckled, wringing his hands, eyes turning shyly to the window. Easily flustered. Rody knew it. He waited for Izuku to look up again and, once he’d caught his eye, Rody winked. “My hero.”
“Oh! Haha. It was my pleasure. Um.” Izuku put his index fingers together and fidgeted. “You know, ah, sometimes I need help on the farm, too. Harvesting crops and all. In case you need an odd job. I’m just up the poppy field path.”
Poppy field path. Maybe Rody should just lean into his farming sim life. Especially when the farmer was so—Rody shook himself. This wasn’t the old days in the big, happy house. This was the era of putting Roro and Lala first. Time and money well spent instead of wasted.
“Thanks,” Rody said softly. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”