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Chapter Text

Blurb:

Sent to infiltrate the ruthless Bakugo Empire, Izuku Midoriya - captain of the Yagi Empire’s elite spy force - never expected his mission to take such a personal turn. King Katsuki Bakugo, the fiery and unpredictable ruler, doesn’t just uncover Izuku’s disguise - he claims him as his consort.

Katsuki remembers their childhood, a bond Izuku has long forgotten, and his obsession leaves no room for escape.

“I’ll never let you go, Deku.” His words are a promise, both dangerous and intoxicating, that Izuku can’t shake.

Torn between his duty to his empire and the pull of something darker, something deeper, Izuku is forced to confront a truth he’s not ready to face. As political tensions rise and old enemies close in, he must decide: fight the king who won’t let him go, or risk everything for the man he’s beginning to understand.

The King’s Claim is an intense, slow-burn tale of obsession, redemption, and a love that refuses to be forgotten.

Dedication: For the lost souls, waiting for their knight in shining armour.

Chapter 1: 

The morning sun filtered through the tall stained-glass windows of the war chamber, splashing colour across the stone walls of Yagi’s palace. Despite the warmth of the room, a chill settled in my bones as I stared at the faces around the massive oak table. These were people I trusted, companions in countless missions, and the few who understood the heavy weight of our task. But today, even their reassuring presences couldn’t banish the storm brewing in my chest.

“Captain Midoriya,” King Yagi Toshinori’s deep voice called, breaking through the silence. The king’s golden hair, now streaked with grey, caught the morning light. His eyes, usually kind, were shadowed with worry. “We all know why we are here.”

A solemn nod rippled through the room. Aizawa, his eyes dark as ever, leaned forward, fingers steepled. “The Bakugo Empire has become a threat to us all,” he said. “We’ve received reports of atrocities committed in King Katsuki Bakugo’s name since he ascended the throne.”

The mere mention of the new king's name sent a shiver down my spine, though I couldn’t quite pinpoint why. I’d heard the stories: a boy-turned-king, ruling with an iron fist, unpredictable and violent. A man whose hands, they said, were painted red with the blood of those who opposed him. But there was more—a whisper of something that nibbled at my subconscious, an itch I couldn’t scratch.

I straightened my back, donning the mask of composure I had perfected over years of serving as captain of the special forces. At only nineteen, I’d learned to bury fear deep beneath layers of control. “We need more than reports,” I said, my voice firm. “We need facts. And to get those, I’ll go into the heart of the beast.”

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room. Ochako’s eyes widened, her brows knitting with concern. Iida adjusted his glasses, looking like he was about to voice an objection, but King Yagi’s raised hand silenced him.

Gran Torino, wise and weathered, spoke next, his voice rasping but resolute. “You’re proposing to infiltrate Bakugo’s palace?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, my gaze meeting each set of eyes around the table. “The barbaric king has announced a ball where he will choose a spouse, an event open to nobles and emissaries alike. I’ll attend undercover. Once inside, I’ll have access to his records, his chambers, and perhaps his true intentions.”

Shoto Todoroki, the prince of the Todoroki Empire and my closest friend, shifted in his seat. The light glinted off his half-red, half-white hair as he folded his arms. “Izuku, this is reckless,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of our shared history. “We don’t know what he looks like, how he thinks, or who he trusts.”

“That’s precisely why we must do this,” I countered. “If we sit and wait, he’ll only grow stronger. The raids, the massacres—they won’t stop. We have an opportunity now, before his power becomes absolute.”

Shoto’s eyes hardened, and for a moment, silence fell between us. It was a silent battle of wills, but I could see the glimmer of reluctant acceptance in his gaze. He knew as well as I did that the stakes were too high to let fear guide us.

Aizawa spoke again, more quietly this time. “You’ll need a cover strong enough to deceive his court and guards. One slip, and—”

“And it’ll be my head,” I finished, a wry smile tugging at my lips. “I’m aware, sir.”

King Yagi nodded solemnly. “This mission is critical. If you succeed, we may find a way to curb King Katsuki’s ambitions. But Izuku, remember—this man is unlike any we’ve faced before.”

The tension in the room coiled tighter, but I could feel the rule in my chest solidify. 

It was a dangerous game, and one we could not afford to lose.

"Understood."

As the meeting dispersed and shadows deepened over the palace, Shoto found me standing at the window of the observatory, looking out over the city. The golden glow of lanterns winked in the streets below, life continuing in blissful ignorance of the peril looming beyond the mountains.

“Are you certain about this?” he asked, voice low.

I turned to meet his eyes, finding the worry etched in his features. “No,” I admitted. “But if not me, then who?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Be careful, Izuku. The man you’re walking into the den of… He’s not just a king. There are whispers that he’s more monster than human.”

I managed a small, grim smile. “Then it’s a good thing I’m more than what I seem, too.”

Tomorrow, I would step into the unknown, penetrate through the heart of a kingdom ruled by fire and fury.

A kingdom where King Katsuki Bakugo awaited.

Chapter Text

The night of the mission arrived, and the energy in our briefing room crackled with tension. Ochako, Tsuyu, and Iida stood around me, each of them steady, but I could sense their nerves beneath the surface. This wasn’t just another mission—it was our first real step into the Bakugo Empire, and each of us knew the risks that entailed.

Ochako leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. “So, we’re all set then? No last-minute changes?”

I shook my head. “None. I’ll head in first, and I’ll keep communication open as best as I can, but the palace grounds are notorious for jamming frequencies.” My fingers brushed the dagger strapped to my side, a familiar weight that grounded me. “I need each of you to be on standby. I’ll signal if anything changes.”

Iida adjusted his glasses, his face set in serious concentration. “Understood. We’ll follow the plan precisely.”

Tsuyu, who’d been quiet up until now, tilted her head thoughtfully. “It feels strange, doesn’t it? A ball to ‘choose’ a consort for the king. He sounds like he’s treating people like possessions, ribbit.”

Ochako frowned but didn’t respond. I couldn’t blame her—our mission meant infiltrating a world of opulence and power that we could barely comprehend. The decadence of the Bakugo Empire was nothing like the Yagi Empire’s more subdued court. There, every piece of the palace, every colour, every material spoke of extravagance.

I glanced around the room at each of my comrades. We were a small team, built on trust and mutual reliance. And if all went according to plan, I’d be inside Bakugo’s palace soon, blending into a crowd of strangers who didn’t know that one among them was a spy.

“Ready?” I asked, looking each of them in the eye.

They nodded in turn. We were as ready as we’d ever be.

Dressed in my disguise—a black knight’s uniform adorned with understated silver details—I made my way toward the Bakugo palace. The city surrounding the castle bustled with activity in anticipation of the royal ball. I slipped past crowds of nobles and servants, barely noticed in the sea of finery, but each step I took heightened my sense of the mission’s weight. Katsuki Bakugo, the barbaric king, was hosting this ball himself, his first public appearance in over a year. He was known for his violence and cruelty, yet tonight he was making a spectacle of choice, parading potential consorts like pawns in his grand game.

As I approached the palace gates, the sheer beauty of the structure took me aback. The Bakugo palace rose like a dark jewel against the evening sky. Towering spires reached up to the stars, their tops adorned with flags bearing the symbol of the empire. Glistening white marble covered the outer walls, which were accentuated with intricate carvings and patterns that caught the moonlight. I’d heard rumours of its grandeur, but the reality far exceeded even the most vivid descriptions.

Inside, the corridors glowed softly with torches and crystal chandeliers, casting light over tapestries depicting epic battles and ancient heroes of the Bakugo line. Rich, velvety carpets muffled my footsteps as I strode through, the weight of my disguise shifting with each step. My black armour allowed me to blend into the shadows, an essential part of my disguise, but its elegance didn’t match the gleam of the more opulent attire around me. And that was intentional.

I entered the ballroom, a grand hall filled with swirling music, laughter, and the murmur of whispers as nobles waited for the king to make his entrance. Painted portraits of former rulers lined the walls, each face a reminder of the empire’s brutal lineage. Servants moved gracefully among the crowd, presenting platters of delicacies—golden pastries, roasted meats glazed with honey, jewel-coloured fruits in silver bowls. Fine wines and spirits flowed freely, filling the air with a heady, intoxicating aroma.

People of all backgrounds, from high-ranking officials to noblemen and noblewomen, lingered in clusters, casting furtive glances toward the empty throne at the head of the room. Each of them was hoping for a chance at favour, at connection, maybe even at love—but, as I knew, those emotions had little place here.

In the crowd, my eyes darted from one group to the next, mentally cataloguing faces and movements. My mission was twofold: gather information and blend in without drawing attention.

Once inside the ballroom, I melted into the flow of guests, keeping my head down and my posture relaxed, acting like just another servant in the crowd. The sheer scale of the palace still stunned me, but I pushed the awe aside, focusing on my task.

I slipped from the ballroom into a smaller corridor, dimly lit and far quieter. This part of the palace seemed deserted, though occasional voices and laughter echoed down from nearby rooms. I’d overheard snippets of conversation from the main hall—whispers of alliances, hints of rivalries—but I needed more. This was my best chance to get close to Bakugo’s trusted inner circle and learn something tangible about his plans.

Room by room, I eased through the palace corridors, keeping to the shadows. At times, I paused to listen, catching fragments of conversation about upcoming military drills, shifting borders, and Bakugo’s rumoured brutality. Some nobles spoke of the king in hushed reverence, while others expressed open fear. His unpredictability, they said, was both his greatest weapon and his empire’s most dangerous liability.

As I moved deeper into the palace, the decor grew even more extravagant. Thick, deep-blue carpets lined the floors, and tapestries embroidered with metallic thread adorned the walls. Each room I passed seemed to hold its own secrets—a desk covered in maps, a table piled high with coded messages. My fingers itched to delve into them, to piece together Bakugo’s plans, but I had to keep moving. The risk of getting caught was too high.

I turned down another corridor, this one even quieter than the last, and found myself walking past a series of narrow doors, each guarded by thick metal locks. Holding my breath, I leaned against the nearest door and pressed my ear to the wood, hoping for anything—an urgent conversation, footsteps, something that might offer more insight. Nothing. Just the hollow silence of an empty room.

I sighed, ready to turn back to the main hall, when suddenly, I collided with something solid—someone, a wall of muscle blocking my way forward. My heart stopped, then restarted with a fierce jolt, and I stumbled back, trying to keep my composure.

Looking up, I froze.

The man before me towered over me, his presence as imposing as the palace walls themselves. He had blond hair that was tousled but somehow controlled, as if it defied gravity just enough to frame his face. But it was his eyes that trapped me—sharp, intense, a blood-red that seemed to pierce through the dim corridor. And across his cheek ran a scar, pale against his tan skin, slicing from cheekbone to jaw line. It made him look both dangerous and… strangely captivating. FOCUS, IZUKU.

I steadied myself, trying to adopt a casual air. “My apologies,” I muttered, keeping my voice low and neutral.

The man raised a brow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “And what exactly are you doing sneaking around the halls?” His voice was deep, carrying a rough edge that made it both threatening and oddly alluring.

My mind raced, scrambling for an excuse. “One of the guests misplaced a personal item in this wing. I was asked to help retrieve it.”

The man’s gaze held on me for a long, scrutinising moment, as if he could see right through my story. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I forced myself to hold his gaze, meeting those crimson eyes with a calm that betrayed none of the panic twisting in my stomach.

To my surprise, he seemed to accept my answer, nodding slowly. “Is that so?” he drawled, his eyes flickering with a trace of amusement. “Lucky you, I suppose. A servant granted access to the most restricted wings of the palace.”

I swallowed, aware of the trap closing around me. “The order came directly from the guest,” I replied evenly, maintaining my facade. “I didn’t question it.”

“Mm,” he said, almost to himself, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer. He took a step closer, close enough that I could smell the faint, smoky scent clinging to him, like burnt cedar and metal. It was both unsettling and intoxicating, and my instincts screamed at me to back away, but I held my ground.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

“Deku,” I answered, using the code name I’d rehearsed for this mission.

“Deku, huh?” He cocked his head slightly, and his smirk deepened, a glint of interest sparking in his gaze. “Well, Deku, I’m Kat. Part of the castle guard,” he added, his smirk shifting into something resembling a grin. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

I forced a small, polite smile. “First time working at a royal event.”

He nodded, his eyes still locked on mine. Then, as if deciding something, he jerked his head toward the doorway. “It’s stifling in here. Why don’t we step outside for some fresh air?”

My pulse spiked, but I gave a careful nod, my mind racing through possible exits. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

The air in the garden was cool and filled with the scent of freshly watered roses. I kept my distance as I followed ‘Kat’, my eyes darting over every detail of the grounds. The castle gardens were expansive, bordered by walls of high hedges and adorned with fountains and statues, each intricately crafted to flaunt the Bakugo Empire’s wealth and power. I was acutely aware of how dangerous it was to be outside with a stranger, especially one like Kat, who seemed more perceptive than he let on. But the information, even the smallest insights about the king’s inner circle, was worth the risk.

Kat moved ahead of me, his shoulders loose. When he glanced back, he gave me a smile that made me instantly wary.

“So, Deku,” he said, letting my name roll off his tongue in a way that felt too familiar, “what do you think of the palace?”

“It’s… impressive,” I answered, choosing my words carefully. “Larger than I expected.”

He chuckled, eyes gleaming with an amused edge. “You’re not the first to be overwhelmed. The Bakugo Empire has a way of making people feel… small.” He looked at me with a smirk that seemed to dare me to react.

I kept my face neutral, but inside, I could feel my irritation building. “I can see that,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but detached.

Kat stopped beside a fountain, turning to face me fully. He crossed his arms, his gaze dropping to study me with such intensity that it sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re different from most of the servants here, aren’t you?”

I froze. Did he suspect something? I forced a casual shrug, but every muscle in my body was coiled tight, ready to react. “Different how?”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “The others don’t look me in the eye when they talk. And they don’t speak as confidently as you do.” His gaze held mine for a long, tense moment, and I could feel the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on me.

I feigned a light laugh, shifting my weight to one foot to appear relaxed. “Confidence is part of the job when dealing with nobles. They don’t like hesitation.”

He seemed to accept that, nodding as if I’d passed some unspoken test. “Good answer.” He looked past me, towards the castle, his face calming ever so slightly. “I suppose confidence is important. In this place, showing weakness is just an invitation to be crushed.”

The tone in his voice threw me off. It’s true that I’ve only met him for a few minutes but this was the very first time he seemed less like an intimidating figure and more like someone… normal. It made me uncomfortable - my conclusion - and I resisted the urge to step back. I reminded myself that he was part of the Bakugo Empire, which meant he was likely as ruthless as his king.

The moment faded as quickly as it had come. Kat’s eyes sharpened, and he straightened. “Gotta go, I’ll let you get back to work,” he said with a final, lingering look. “Don’t let the grandeur distract you too much, Deku.”

I gave him a polite nod, grateful to finally be free from his piercing gaze. He turned and made his way back toward the main hall, not without shooting a smirk my way. Arrogant little-.

I, too, after taking a few minutes to myself to catch my breath, decided it was time for me to do the same but as I reached the entrance to the ballroom the atmosphere had shifted. The hall was filled with a tense anticipation that hummed beneath the music and murmurs of the guests. 

Something was about to happen.

A loud voice echoed through the room as a guard at the entrance called out, “Presenting His Majesty, the King!” 

I pushed myself further back into the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of this notorious king without drawing attention to myself. The music quieted, and all eyes turned to the grand staircase at the far end of the room. For a moment, there was silence, as if even the walls were holding their breath.

And then, he appeared.

Descending the staircase, clad in dark, royal attire that fit him like armour, was the man I’d just been speaking with in the garden. My heart froze, and my breath caught in my throat.

Kat wasn’t just part of the castle guard. He was the King of the Bakugo Empire—Katsuki Bakugo himself.

THE KATSUKI BAKUGO.

NO. NO. NO.

I felt as though the floor had dropped out from under me. My mind reeled, piecing together every word of our conversation, every look he’d given me. He’d been watching me, testing me, his every move was deliberate. And I’d been utterly oblivious, thinking him just another soldier.

King Katsuki Bakugo’s eyes swept across the crowd, the weight powerful. When his crimson eyes locked onto me, I felt exposed, like he could see right through every layer of my disguise. The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight, knowing smile—a look that told me he knew exactly who I was, where I was standing, and perhaps even what I’d been thinking.

I couldn’t move. The realisation that I’d been speaking so freely to the king, that he had been toying with me the entire time, left me paralysed. My body screamed at me to run, to disappear into the shadows, but I was rooted to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away from him.

The crowd shifted around me as King Katsuki reached the base of the stairs, the guests parting like a sea to give him space. He raised his hand, and the hall fell silent, all eyes trained on him, waiting for his command.

With a deliberate, predatory slowness, Katsuki Bakugo took a step forward, his eyes still pinned on me. His smile grew sharper, more dangerous. I tried to lower my gaze, to break free from his stare, but it was useless. He held me captive with nothing more than his eyes.

My pulse thundered as he lifted his hand slightly, gesturing towards me with a look of dark amusement.

Shit.

Instinct took over. My mind screamed at me to move, to get away, to put as much distance as possible between myself and the dangerous king who’d been watching me with such intent. I tore my eyes from him, turned sharply, and started weaving through the crowd, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I pushed past unsuspecting nobles. 

I knew how to disappear. I’d spent years mastering the art of fading into the shadows, slipping away unseen. But tonight, it was different. Every movement felt weighted, like I was dragging through mud, and my pulse raced with the fear that the entire ballroom had somehow turned its attention on me. I could feel the weight of it, Katsuki’s burning eyes following my every step as I slipped toward the side exit, my mind racing through a dozen escape routes.

“Stop him.” a voice ordered. Him, it was him . Authoritative and harsh.

Guards surged forward, cutting off the exits with swift, practised precision. I cursed under my breath, my muscles tensing. The nearest guard lunged toward me, and I ducked under his grasp, slipping to the side and shoving through a narrow gap in the crowd.

But they were closing in. NO NO NO.

I darted down a side corridor, sprinting as fast as I could, my footsteps echoing against the stone walls. My mind worked furiously, mapping out potential escape routes, the ones I’d memorised just in case. If I could reach the service wing, I might be able to slip into the kitchens, find an exit, and make it back to my team. But I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that Katsuki had anticipated this, that he’d left me no way out.

I turned a corner, and two more guards blocked my path. They wore expressions of grim conviction as they advanced, forcing me to double back. But as I turned, a pair of hands seized my shoulders, wrenching me backward. I struggled, twisting in their grip, but another guard appeared, pinning my arms behind my back. Pain shot through my shoulders as they forced my arms up, immobilising me.

“Let me go!” I snarled, struggling against the hold with every ounce of strength I had. But it was useless—their grips were iron.

The guards dragged me back down the corridor and through the wide double doors into the ballroom, the sound of murmuring voices swelling as we re-entered. Guests watched with curious, horrified expressions, some gasping as they took in the scene: a rogue servant struggling against the grip of two guards, his hair disheveled, his dark armour covered in dust. What a joke. My face burned, both from anger and from the humiliation of being paraded through the crowd like some captured animal.

The guards pushed me forward, forcing me to my knees at the foot of the grand staircase. My head spun as I tried to regain my composure, but the grip of the guards tightened, keeping me firmly in place.

And then, the room fell silent as footsteps echoed across the ballroom floor, each step measured, just like always. A pair of polished black boots appeared in my line of sight, and I felt my breath catch as Katsuki Bakugo crouched down in front of me, his crimson gaze burning with amusement.

“Well, well,” he murmured, his voice low and taunting as he looked me over. “Not quite as clever as you thought, were you?”

I glared up at him, defiant, every nerve in my body screaming to lunge at him, to fight, to do anything but kneel there, helpless. But his gaze was sharp as a blade, and I could feel the weight of his power pressing down on me, suffocating.

He reached out, his gloved fingers tracing along my jaw with an intimacy that lit me up with chills. I tried to jerk my head away, but he caught my chin, forcing me to look up at him, his grip firm. His face was so close, his scar casting a faint shadow across his cheek, his red eyes narrowed in dark satisfaction.

“You’ve been running around my castle,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “and spying on my guests. And here I thought you were just a lost servant.” His grip tightened, and I could feel the strength in his fingers, the silent promise of just how ruthless he could be.

I swallowed, fighting to keep my composure, to keep my expression neutral even as the rage boiled beneath the surface. He was enjoying this—the power, the control, the helplessness he’d forced on me. And there was nothing I could do.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. “You should have known better than to challenge me, Deku. Or… should I say… Izuku .” 

My heart stopped.

What?

What…?

How… 

How did he know…? 

How-

With a final, cruel smile, he released my chin and straightened, turning to face the assembled guests. His voice carried through the hall, authoritative and cold.

“This one,” he announced, gesturing down to me, “will be staying with me.” His words hung in the air, heavy with an implication that left no room for doubt. “From this day forward, he is mine.”

The ballroom erupted into whispers, shocked gasps echoing through the crowd, but I barely heard them. My vision blurred as the reality of my situation sank in, the gravity of my capture bearing down with full force.

The guards released their hold, but I remained on my knees, my mind reeling, my heart pounding with a mix of fury and fear.

What have I gotten myself into?

Chapter Text

I paced the room, fury boiling under my skin as I took in every inch of my gilded prison. The four walls closed in around me, each one richly adorned with tapestries and silver candleholders that flickered with an almost mocking warmth. The bed, draped in deep crimson sheets, dominated the center of the room, surrounded by intricate carvings and dark wood furniture that spoke of wealth—and control. 

I couldn’t bear the sight of it. It wasn’t just a room; it was a cage, crafted to perfection, designed to keep me contained.

I clenched my fists, feeling the sting of my nails digging into my palms. How had it come to this? How had I allowed myself to be caught, to be dragged here, locked up like a prisoner? I was supposed to be in control, the one with the plan, the one who knew exactly what he was doing. But now, every detail felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

And then there was the most unsettling question of all—the question that gnawed at the edges of my mind, refusing to let me rest. Katsuki Bakugo, the King of the Bakugo Empire, had known my name. Not Deku , the alias I’d used to shield my identity, but Izuku , my real name, the name I’d hidden so carefully from him, from everyone here. No one should have known. It was a detail I’d kept close, a part of myself I hadn’t let slip, not even once.

And yet… he’d said it as if he’d known it his whole life.

I slammed a fist into the wall, the dull pain grounding me, if only for a moment. The impact echoed through my arm, a reminder that I was still here, still alive, still fighting. But the questions circled back, their sharp edges stabbing deep into by brain. How did he know? Had he seen through my disguise somehow, or was this something deeper, something hidden in the twisted connection he seemed to think we shared?

A chill crept down my spine as I considered it. I’d heard stories of Bakugo’s ruthlessness, his penchant for power and control, but this was something else. This was… personal. And I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to him, more to his knowing smirk than mere arrogance.

I shook my head, pushing the thought away. I couldn’t let myself get tangled in his mind games. I had to focus on the mission, on the friends I’d left behind, still out there, still in danger. Ochako, Tsuyu, Iida—they were counting on me to keep them safe, to see this mission through to the end. And here I was, wasting time in a cell of gilded walls, chasing shadows and unanswered questions.

I’d been foolish to think I could handle this on my own, foolish to think that he wouldn’t see through the disguise. Katsuki Bakugo was unpredictable, cunning, dangerous. And now I’d been caught in his trap, locked away while he tightened his hold on the empire and everyone within it.

I had to get out. I had to find a way to break free, to finish what I’d started.

My eyes landed on the only window adorning the room, its small frame just wide enough to crawl through, maybe even scale down if I could find a foothold. It was risky, but every nerve in my body screamed for action, for something to break the stillness, the helplessness that had taken root in my chest. Without another thought, I moved toward it, my heart racing as I reached up and pushed the window open, letting the cold air rush in.

It was a long drop, farther than I’d anticipated, but a thick, twisting vine crawled up the stone wall, its leaves dark against the fading light. I gripped the windowsill, bracing myself, my pulse pounding in my ears as I swung a leg over the edge. The rough stone scraped against my palms, but I forced myself to keep going, my focus honed on the vine just a few feet away.

I was halfway out, the wind biting at my skin, when a strong, firm hand closed around my arm, yanking me back with a force that nearly threw me off balance. Before I could react, I was pulled back into the room, spun around to face the last person I wanted to see.

Katsuki Bakugo.

The door must not have even made a sound—I hadn’t noticed his approach. His fingers dug into my arm, his grip a brutal reminder that I was still his captive, that any notion of freedom was just an illusion. His eyes were sharp, wild, an unsettling mixture of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place. He looked at me as if I’d committed some personal betrayal, as if my attempt to escape had crossed an invisible line he refused to allow.

“Trying to run already?” His voice was low, each word laced with barely controlled fury. “I thought you’d have more patience than that, Izuku.”

The way he spat the name, with such ease and venom, made my blood boil. “Don’t call me that,” I snapped, jerking my arm back, but his grip only tightened, “And let go of me.”

Instead of releasing me, he stepped closer, his face mere inches from mine. The air between us crackled with tension, his red eyes blazing with something that left me cold. This wasn’t just a king enforcing his rule—this was something else, something fiercer. 

“You think you get to make demands?” His tone was mocking, his voice dipping to a low murmur. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re here because I want you here. And you’re not leaving until I say so.”

The tone of his voice made my skin crawl, but I met his stare, refusing to back down. “You can’t just keep me here. I’m not some possession for you to control. I am human and I have friends who’ll come looking for me.”

“Let them look,” he said with a twisted smile. “Let them come. They can’t take what’s already mine.”

His words hit me like a punch, my mind reeling with disbelief. Already mine? I stared at him, searching for some trace of reason, but all I saw was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, an intensity that bordered on madness.

“Why?” I demanded, my voice rough with frustration. “Why keep me here? What could you possibly want from me?”

“Why?” he echoed, his voice devious, as if the question amused him. “Wouldn’t you like to know? You’ll understand… in time.”

The cryptic answer only stoked my anger, and I struggled against his grip, my nails digging into my palms as I glared up at him. “Stop playing games with me,” I hissed. “You think I’m just going to sit here, waiting for your big reveal? You think I’m just going to fall in line?”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating in the silence, and for a moment, his grip loosened just enough to let me breathe. But then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he leaned in, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“Izuku,” he murmured, each syllable heavy, almost taunting. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re here with me, now and always. And the sooner you realise that, the easier this will be.”

I felt the fire ignite in my chest, my ire surging as I pushed against him. “And you think I’m just going to accept that?” I spat, my voice laced with venom. “You’re delusional if you think I’ll ever be yours.”

His smile only widened, a cold glint in his eyes. “Oh, you will. In time.”

Before I could hurl another insult, he released me, taking a step back. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, something unreadable haunting his eyes before he turned, striding to the door.

“Fight all you want,” he said, his tone deceptively calm. “You’ll come around. When the time is right.”

And with that, he left, the door shutting with a finality that echoed through the room, leaving me alone with nothing but the remnants of his words and the anger simmering in my chest.

I sank to the floor, my mind racing, my hands shaking as I fought to steady my breathing. The weight of his presense, his words, lingered in the air like a curse, each one digging deeper, rooting itself in the back of my mind.

But even as the frustration and confusion threatened to consume me, one thought rose above the rest, a silent vow that burned hotter than anything else.

No matter what he said, no matter what twisted game he thought he was playing, I will win. 

Whether he likes it or not.

Chapter Text

The days melded into one another, each marked only by the faint shifting of light through the small window across from my bed. I hadn’t expected my confinement to be so… routine. After our last confrontation, I’d assumed Katsuki would leave me here indefinitely, that he would allow time itself to be my captor, hoping I would gradually give in, worn down by my own thoughts and my own frustrations.

But, to my surprise, he did the opposite. Katsuki visited, and not just once. It became a ritual, his presence.

Every morning, I’d hear the door creak open, and he’d step in, all fame and glory. He never demanded anything from me; he didn’t try to pry conversation from me or force my hand. Instead, he simply sat, eyeing me as if my silence were some riddle he’d come to solve. But I had no intention of making his task easy. 

I refused to look at him, kept my eyes trained on the far wall. There was no way I was acknowledging his presence. If he thought he could wear me down with these silent, steady intrusions, he was wrong. My thoughts belonged to me, and I would keep my mind away from his twisted little mind games.

And so, as a counter to his persistence, I let my silence stretch between us, a silent shield against his will. And he endured it with maddening calm, surprising I know, as though he were willing to sit there forever. 

The food was a whole other challenge. Every day, he appeared with elaborate meals by my door: a humorously lavish displays of delicacies meant to entice, each dish carefully arranged as if it were some truce. And each day, I left them untouched. The thought of taking what he’d sent, of letting him think his offerings had softened me, was unbearable.

Still, hunger is a hard master; eventually, I gave in - a piece of bread, plain and unremarkable, brought by a servant rather than the King himself. It felt more like an act of survival than surrender. Every bite felt like swallowing pride, but it kept me steady, allowing me to maintain this quiet ‘rebellion’ as he’d calle d it.

Of course, his persistence didn’t stop at food. He left letters, small, neat envelopes marked with my name in his grand, unmistakable script. Gifts appeared too - small, carefully chosen tokens left on the side table, meant to lure me, perhaps, into giving him even a moment of acknowledgment. But I refused to touch them. The letters lay unopened, the gifts gathering dust in the corner. 

And then, there were the escape attempts. Each time I thought I’d found an opportunity - a route, a lapse in the guards’ vigilance - it was as though the palace itself worked against me. Guards seemed to materialise out of thin air, blocking my path, turning what seemed like a clear exit into a dead end. Somehow, each attempt felt preempted, as if they knew exactly when and where I would try to escape.

One night, when the silence and isolation pressed on me unbearably, I tried once again. I waited until the corridors were quiet, the shadows deep, and then slipped from my room. I swear my footsteps were careful, each movement measured as I made my way down a corridor that seemed to lead toward a forgotten passage. My had pulse quickened with each step, the hope rising that I’d finally found a way out at last.

But as I reached the door at the end of the hall, two guards stepped forward, their expressions as impassive as always, their movements practiced and unrelenting as they guided me back to my room, making any struggle pointless.

The following days were worse. I knew the guards now lined the corridor, ready at a moment’s notice, and any attempt to leave was futile. It felt like I was stuck with no tomorrow, with no choice but to stare at the same four walls, to hear the faint footsteps outside my door, emphasising on the restriction of my movements to this one, stifling room.

So when Katsuki entered each morning, he was met with the same response, the same cold silence. My refusal to look at him, to speak to him, was the last defense I had left. And I held onto it with every ounce of will within me. 

Because no matter how many times he visited, no matter how often he tried to win my favour, I was determined to resist, until he had no choice but to let me go.

The door opened one afternoon, not with the usual curt silence of the guards or the heavy tread that signaled the King's arrival. This time, the presence that entered was entirely different - a woman with striking, golden hair that framed a face both ferocious and warm. She held herself with a quiet authority, as though the entire palace were an extension of her.

She surveyed me with a look both curious and understanding, her eyes sharp but not unkind. “Well, well,” she said, her voice carrying a strength that matched her bearing. “You must be the young man who has my son so utterly preoccupied. Can't believe he finally allowed me to see you. ”

The familiarity of her features - the eyes, that self-assured expression—left no question as to who she was. Mitsuki Bakugo. “Your Majesty,” I managed to incline my head in a show of reluctant respect. There was no mistaking her identity, nor the force of her presence.  

“Oh no need to be so formal,” she replied, a faint smile touching her lips as she settled into a chair across from me. “I wanted to see for myself the one who managed to capture my son’s attention so thoroughly.”

Her words were spoken lightly, but the weight beneath them was unmistakable. She had come for a reason, and though I couldn’t imagine her purpose, I remained wary. She seemed to notice my guardedness, for she sighed, folding her hands in her lap as she took a place on the chair across my bed, regarding me thoughtfully.

“I know what you must be thinking,” she said, her voice gentling. “That you’re alone here, that no one in this castle could possibly understand what you’re going through.”

I tensed, her words landing far too close to the truth. “Understanding hardly changes anything,” I replied, careful to keep my tone steady. “It doesn’t change what he’s done. And it doesn’t make this any less of a jail cell.”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “Nothing can make this less of what it is. And I won’t pretend that my son isn’t capable of… being overbearing. But there’s a reason he is the way he is, whether you care to believe it or not.”

I narrowed my eyes, more defensive than curious. “A reason?” The word felt hollow on my tongue. “What reason justifies taking someone’s freedom, locking them away as if they’re nothing but an object to be kept?”

Mitsuki leaned back, folding her arms as she studied me with a mixture of patience and candor. “Justification isn’t the point,” she replied quietly. “But understanding… that’s another matter entirely.”

I waited, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of my interest, yet unable to completely ignore the intrigue her words stirred. 

“Katsuki has always been… driven,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “Once he decides he wants something, there’s no changing his mind. He clings to what he wants with a force most people can’t understand. He’s always been like that, even as a child.” She paused, as though deciding how much to reveal, before continuing. “When he was young, he had a friend - one he adored, treasured. And one day, that friend vanished without a trace. No explanation. No goodbye. Just… gone.”

Her voice grew softer, tinged with a sorrow that seemed to come from a place far deeper than words could express. “It changed him. That loss carved something out of him that he’s never been able to fill. Since then, when he finds something, or someone, who matters to him, he holds on. It’s as if he believes that if he can just keep them close, he can protect them from the world, from himself… from anything.”

I sat in silence, the weight of her words settling over me, a strange discomfort striking at the edge of my anger. Yet the thought of letting sympathy slip in felt like a betrayal of everything I’d endured.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do with that?” I asked, my voice low. “Understanding his reasons doesn’t change what he’s done. It doesn’t make this right.”

“No,” she agreed, “But sometimes, Izuku, understanding isn’t about condoning. It’s about seeing the full picture.” She paused, unflinching. “You may hate him now, but trust me - there’s more to Katsuki than what you see. And if you give him the chance, if you let him show you who he truly is, you might find… well, you may find that hate can change.”

I looked away, unwilling to let her words settle, unwilling to let the flicker of doubt she’d ignited take root. She watched me in silence, a faint sadness in her gaze, as if she saw more than I cared to admit. “I’m not here to tell you how to feel,” she said gently. “And I’m not here to offer you any false hope of escape, either. If you’re hoping I’ll sneak you out of here, then you’re wasting your time. Once Katsuki decides he wants something, no one can take it from him - not even me. And trust me Izuku, I tried my best. I really did.”

I clenched my fists, her words like a door slamming shut, cold and final. She watched me; with pity or sympathy, I was unsure.

“Once, there was a young boy who asked for a wolfhound,” she started her tone wistful. “The beast was wild, barely trained, a danger to anyone who approached it. But Katsuki wanted it, saw something in it. And once it was his… well, he never let it go. He tamed it, in his own way, but more than that, he became part of it. Bound to it.” She looked at me with a sad smile. “That’s just how he is. And he isn’t one to give up on what he wants.”

Her words hung in the air as Mitsuki rose, smoothing the creases in her gown, smiling as she looked down at me. “Hate him if you must,” she said gently. “But give him a chance to show you what lies beneath that hate. You might find something worth understanding.”

She paused, her expression both sad and hopeful, as if she were placing something… something frail, something precious, into my unwilling hands. “Take care of yourself, Izuku. And… take a look at those letters, if you find the time. You might be surprised.” And without another word, she turned, leaving the room in silence and a faint scent of jasmine.

The door closed softly behind her, and I was left alone, her words echoing in the quiet, stirring up conflicts I hadn’t anticipated. For the first time, the silence felt heavier, weighted by something I couldn’t name, something I couldn’t escape. I glanced at the pile of gifts Katsuki had left: each one a silent plea, a question left unanswered. But before I could look away, my eyes drifted to the letters stacked neatly by the bed, their elegant script untouched, their contents unread.

No. You mustn't let this get to you, Izuku.

But even as I turned away, I felt a strange ache within me, a weight that I couldn’t shake. 

And as night fell, I found myself missing the world I’d left behind even more.

Chapter Text

The castle grounds stretched out before me, larger than I’d ever imagined, filled with winding pathways, neatly trimmed hedges, and rows of flowering plants that burst with colour in the soft morning light. It was beautiful - too beautiful, in a way that almost felt cruel. Each carefully arranged flowerbed, each artfully pruned tree, seemed like an insult, a reminder of the life that lay outside these walls, just out of reach. I couldn’t believe Katsuki, on Mitsuki’s orders, had allowed me even this glimpse of freedom. Of course, it wasn’t exactly freedom.

Sero, the guard assigned to me, kept a constant, watchful distance at my side. He was dressed in the Bakugo Empire’s colours, his armour polished, his dark hair framing a face that always seemed just on the edge of laughter, even when he was staring straight ahead in silence. At first, I’d refused to go anywhere with him. But Mitsuki’s words had lingered in my mind, her encouragement like a quiet push forward, and in the end, I’d given in.

“So…Sir Sero?,” I started, hoping to at least break the silence.

He chuckled, glancing over at me with a friendly smirk. “Yes, that’s me. And you can call me Sero. No fancy titles necessary."

"I'll keep that in mind. You can call me Izuku." I replied.

"Perfect! It’s great that His Majesty considered you’d want a little space, isn’t it?”

I bit back a bitter reply. Space. I hadn’t had space since I’d arrived. But I swallowed the resentment, nodding stiffly instead, and continued on. We walked in silence for a while, and although I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t help noticing the thoughtful landscaping around the paths we passed. Deep red blooms of flowers lined some of the walkways, their petals soft and vibrant, drawing my eye despite myself.

We came to a large garden bordered by high walls on all sides, almost like a hidden sanctuary within the castle. Roses grew there, sprawling over trellises and stone arches, their red blossoms filling the air with a scent that was surprisingly rich and sweet. It was breathtaking, and I found myself drawn to the center of the garden, my hand reaching out instinctively toward one of the flowers.

“Beautiful, right?” Sero’s voice broke the quiet, his tone almost… casual.

I glanced back, caught off guard by his relaxed expression. He leaned against one of the stone pillars, eyeing the roses. “You wouldn’t think they’d be the king’s favourite, huh?”

I blinked, the words sinking in slowly. Bakugo’s favourite? The idea was absurd, and yet… I could almost see it, the bright red blossoms mirroring something about him. Was it his strength? His intensity? 

“He likes roses?” I asked, unable to mask the surprise in my voice.

Sero nodded, looking amused. “Yep. Apparently hated them when he was younger. Said they were ‘useless’ because they had no purpose but to look nice.” He chuckled to himself, and I caught a strange warmth in his gaze. Interesting. “But he changed his mind, I guess. They’re all over the castle now. Especially the red ones.”

I looked at the roses again, wondering what could have shifted in Katsuki’s mind to turn dislike into preference. But I shook the thought off, focusing on the flower in front of me instead. I’d always liked roses, even when I was young. They were… simple, yet complex in a way. I felt a faint warmth settle in my chest as I thought, almost forgetting Sero was there.

“I like roses too,” I said quietly. “They remind me of… balance. Something beautiful, but not without defence.”

Sero gave a hum of agreement, his eyes curious. “That makes sense. So, besides roses, what else do you like? You don’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who loves wandering the castle for fun.”

I hesitated, feeling a strange vulnerability in his question. I wasn’t used to people asking about me, about my interests. But as his gaze stayed friendly, unthreatening, I shrugged and decided it wouldn’t hurt to answer.

“Reading,” I replied, almost reluctantly. “I like books… and writing. They’re… escape,” The words came out before I could stop it, and I felt my chest tighten with the weight of it. Escape. The one thing I couldn’t have here.

Sero smiled. “Can’t argue with that,” he replied. “A good story can be better than real life, sometimes.” There was something in his eyes that almost seemed like empathy, but he said nothing more, merely nodding as he gestured for us to keep walking.

As we left the rose garden, my eyes stayed on the red blooms, their silent beauty. I’d spent so much time fighting Katsuki’s control, resisting every moment I was in this place, but somehow, these small moments—a guard’s friendly smile, the faint scent of roses, the brush of a story against my mind—made the castle seem less like a cage and more like a… world of its own. And I hated that.

I kept my silence as we made our way back to the room, Sero trailing a few steps behind, giving me space but keeping a careful watch, his eyes flicking to my face every so often as if to gauge my thoughts. But my mind was my own, filled schemes that I’d keep to myself. Even if they had the power to hold me here, I wouldn’t let them change who I was. I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction.

When Sero and I returned to my room, I expected the same, familiar silence that had greeted me every other day in this gilded cage. Instead, a new figure stood by the bed - a young woman, dressed in the Bakugo Empire’s dark colours, her demeanour poised and collected as she waited for me.

She looked up as I entered, her eyes warm and polite. “Good afternoon, sir,” she said with a slight bow, her voice gentle but assured. “My name is Momo Yaoyorozu, and I’ve been assigned to assist you with your needs.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Assigned… to assist me?”

“Yes,” she replied with a small smile, as if this were the most natural arrangement in the world. “As your maid.”

I raised a brow, biting back my irritation. “I don’t need a maid. And I definitely don’t need help.”

Momo didn’t argue, her expression remaining calm and determined. “Forgive me, but I’m here under Lady Mitsuki’s orders. I would hate to disappoint her.” Her smile widened a fraction, her eyes steady on mine, and I could see that she wasn’t going to leave easily.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Fine,” I muttered, feeling my resistance wear down. “If you insist on staying, then stay. But don’t expect me to… need anything. And…you can call me Izuku.”

She merely nodded, her eyes glinting with quiet satisfaction, and without another word, she walked over to a small vanity on the side of the room. In an instant, she was in motion, pulling out a variety of items - small boxes with unfamiliar designs, delicate pieces of jewellery, and what appeared to be a carefully folded set of clothes.

I watched in growing confusion as she set out each item with a precise, practised care, her movements so smooth they scared me. When she reached for the final piece - a dark, silken dress that shimmered faintly in the light—I took an involuntary step back, the realisation sinking in.

“You’re… not serious,” I said, eyeing the outfit with suspicion. “Why would I wear that?”

She looked up, her smile unfaltering, though there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Lady Mitsuki asked me to prepare you for an evening engagement. I was told to ensure you were properly… dressed.” Her gaze drifted pointedly to the dress, as if to say there was no other option.

I frowned, crossing my arms. “I’m not interested in any ‘engagement’ with… anyone in this castle.”

Momo’s expression didn’t shift in the slightest, and without another word, she held out the dress, her stance fixed. Her held her eyes with mine in a mix of firmness and patience, the kind of patience I’d only seen in people who knew they would get their way, no matter how long it took. I resisted the urge to sigh in defeat and reluctantly reached for the garment, avoiding her gaze.

The dress was soft, surprisingly comfortable, though I hated to admit it. It clung to me in a way that felt both strange and… well, annoying, but Momo’s satisfied nod told me I had no choice but to bear it. I shifted uncomfortably, the silken fabric reminding me just how far I was from the life I once knew.

Before I could protest further, Momo moved on to the jewellery. She lifted a pair of delicate red earrings, their stones glinting like rubies, and waited for me to lower my head. I met her gaze, feeling a stubborn urge to resist, but something in her calm, unflinching expression made me relent, tilting my head just enough for her to fasten the earrings.

“Why all this?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. “What am I even being dressed for?”

She offered a mysterious smile, stepping back to assess her work. “You’ll find out soon, Si– Izuku. Sometimes, it’s better not to spoil the surprise.”

A glint of mischief sparked in her eyes, but she kept her tone polite, each word softened by a gentle humour that almost - almost - put me at ease. She finished by clasping a necklace around my neck, the red pendant hanging just below my collarbone, and I glanced at myself in the mirror, barely recognising the figure staring back.

“There,” Momo said, satisfied. “Perfect.”

I stared at my reflection, the realisation settling like a weight in my chest. I looked… different. Transformed, even. The black dress, the red jewellery. I felt the weight of it pressing down on me, like chains I couldn’t break, and yet… I couldn’t look away.

Momo’s satisfied smile only grew as she stepped back, clasping her hands. “Lady Mitsuki will be pleased,” she said softly. “And as for His Majesty…” She trailed off, giving a small shrug, though the smile never left her face.

My heart skipped, a wave of unease surging through me. “I’m not interested in ‘pleasing’ anyone here.”

Momo simply laughed, a light, gentle sound that filled the silence. “Of course, Izuku. But sometimes, even the strongest convictions waver when faced with… unexpected circumstances.”

I scowled, feeling my frustration rise again, but Momo only gestured toward the door, her expression one of polite patience. “Shall we?” she asked, as if I’d ever agreed to any of this.

With a reluctant nod, I followed her, my footsteps echoing down the empty corridor as I braced myself for whatever lay ahead.

The long corridor stretched out before us, dimly lit by flickering torches that cast our shadows on the stone walls. With every step, my anxiety tightened, an uncomfortable awareness creeping up my spine as I followed Momo down the hall, with Sero trailing close behind. I could feel the cool weight of the dress against my skin, the faint glimmer of the gems at my neck, each piece like a reminder of just how out of place I was.

We turned a corner, and suddenly, we were standing in front of two massive wooden doors carved with intricate patterns, guarded by two soldiers who stood at attention. The faint sound of music drifted from behind the doors, soft and distant, punctuated by the faint clinking of glass and the hum of conversation.

I took a step back, eyes widening as I took in the scene before me. “Wait - what is this?”

Momo turned to me, her polite smile still fixed in place. “Your dinner engagement.”

My heart sank as I realised what she meant. Dinner… here, in this hall, with whoever was waiting inside. And there was only one person in this castle who would be expecting me to join them for an evening meal.

Realisation sank in.

I shook my head, taking another step back. “No. Absolutely not.”

But Momo’s gentle expression remained unfazed. “It’s simply dinner!”

“I’d rather starve,” I shot back, crossing my arms. The thought of sitting across from him, of having to meet his gaze, to listen to whatever twisted reasoning he had to offer for keeping me here - it was unbearable.

Sero, who’d been leaning casually against the wall, straightened with a knowing smirk. “You might want to think about it, Izuku. The kitchen’s closed after this. And trust me, the cooks don’t take kindly to late-night requests.” He gave a light shrug, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes told me he was enjoying this far more than he should.

I glared at him, the frustration simmering beneath my skin. Traitors, both of them. Momo, with her calm insistence, and Sero, with his smug amusement. They were all in on this, clearly, all scheming to push me into doing something I wanted no part of.

Momo stepped closer, “You don’t have to speak if you don’t wish to. But…” Her onyx orbs held mine, and in that moment, I saw a quiet understanding in her expression, as if she knew how much I loathed this, but still believed it was worth the effort. “Just give it a chance. For tonight.”

I swallowed, feeling the tightness in my chest ease ever so slightly at her words. There was something about her presence that made me feel… almost safe, if that were possible in a place like this. And though I hated to admit it, her quiet encouragement struck a chord. 

Fine.

With a deep, reluctant sigh, I looked away, barely able to manage a nod.

At once, Momo’s face brightened, and she gestured for the guards to open the doors. The heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing the grand dining hall beyond. A long table stretched across the center of the room, draped in a dark velvet cloth, with silver candlesticks casting a warm glow over the spread of food that lined its length. The walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings, each one depicting scenes of battles, of royal hunts and triumphs, reminders of the Bakugo Empire’s violent legacy.

And at the head of the table, waiting with an expression that was both expectant and mildly amused, sat Katsuki Bakugo.

Our eyes met, and for a brief, excruciating moment, everything else faded. His stare was intense, as if daring me to turn and run, to defy him even now. But I forced myself to hold his stare, refusing to back down, even as my heartbeat thundered in my chest.

With a final glance at Momo and Sero - who both gave me encouraging, almost conspiratorial thumbs-ups - I stepped forward, feeling every inch of the space between us stretch taut like a wire.

Katsuki’s lips curved into a faint smirk as I approached, his eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement. He gestured to the seat across from him, his voice a low murmur that, honestly, still creeps me out. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

I squared my shoulders, fighting the urge to scowl. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Funny,” he replied, his smirk widening. “I was under the impression you always had a choice.”

Without a word, I sat down, barely keeping my expression in check as I stared back at him. This was a game to him, I realised. A test, a power play, a chance to see just how far he could push me. But if he thought I’d bend to his will just because he’d dragged me into this elaborate dinner, he was wrong.

I will survive this meal, endure him and his words, and get the hell out of here as soon as I can.

Dinner was a carefully orchestrated affair, every movement, every glance from Katsuki calculated to draw me in, to make me feel… something. And I hated him for it.

We ate in silence at first. The clinking of silverware against plates filled the empty spaces where words might have gone, an awkward symphony that only deepened the tension between us. The food was exquisite - roasted meats, fresh-baked bread, and rich sauces that would have been a feast under any other circumstances. But tonight, it tasted like ash on my tongue. I forced myself to take a few bites, hoping it would give me the strength to endure his presence without giving him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

From across the table, Katsuki watched me with that same smirk he wore as easily as his crown. He leaned back in his chair, casual, as if we were simply two acquaintances sharing a pleasant meal. But there was a gleam in his eyes, a sharpness that betrayed his true intent.

“So, how’s your stay so far?” he asked, his tone light, almost teasing. “Enjoying the castle grounds?”

I didn’t look up, focusing instead on the food in front of me. “It’s exactly as I imagined it would be.”

He let out a low chuckle, clearly amused. “Really? I was hoping the garden would have won you over by now.”

I clenched my jaw, refusing to let his words get under my skin. “Roses don’t make a prison any less of a prison, no matter how lovely they are.”

“True,” he replied, his voice softer, almost thoughtful. “But perhaps it’s not the prison that needs to change. Maybe it’s how you choose to see it.”

I scoffed, setting down my fork with a bit more force than I’d intended. “You don’t get to decide how I see anything, least of all this place.”

He said nothing, only watching me with a curious intensity that made me want to look away. But I held his eyes, refusing to back down, and after a moment, he gave a slight nod.

After what felt like an eternity, the final course was cleared, and Katsuki rose to his feet, gesturing toward the doors. “Walk with me.”

I stood, every part of me resisting the idea of going anywhere with him, especially alone. But he was already heading toward the doors, his stride confident, certain, as if he knew I would follow. And despite every instinct screaming at me to stay put, I did.

We stepped into the cool night air, the castle gardens stretching out before us in soft, shadowed hues. The roses looked different under the moonlight, their red petals dark and velvety, each bloom a silent witness to the tension simmering between us.

Katsuki walked beside me in silence, hands behind his back, his gaze forward. I kept a careful distance, my anger still simmering, my body tense with each step. I didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to breathe the same air, let alone stroll through the gardens with him like some ridiculous romantic scene. But something about his silence… it felt different, quieter, as if he were waiting for me to break it.

After a long stretch of silence, Katsuki finally spoke, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “I had a feeling you’d like the garden. The library, too.”

I stopped, my gaze narrowing as I looked at him. “The library?”

He turned to face me, a faint smile playing on his lips as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, tarnished key that glinted faintly in the moonlight. He held it out to me, the expression on his face strangely… vulnerable.

“For you,” he said simply. “I had Sero bring me the key. Figured you might like a quiet place to think, to read, when the castle gets… too much.”

I took the key, feeling the cold metal press into my palm, its weight grounding me. The realisation sank in slowly, a mix of shock and irritation. Sero must have told him. The guard’s casual friendliness, his questions about what I liked—it had all been leading to this, to give Katsuki a chance to play the role of the generous host, the benevolent king who knew exactly what I needed.

I felt the anger rise, sharp and immediate. “This is a game to you, isn’t it?” I spat, my voice low and bitter. “You think you can just hand me a key and everything will be fine, that I’ll forget what you did to me, to my freedom?”

“No. I don’t expect you to forget anything. I don’t even expect you to forgive me.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I just… thought it might make things easier.”

I wanted to throw the key back at him, to hurl it into the rose bushes and walk away. But the powerlessness in his voice, the openness in his stance - it was something I hadn’t seen before, something that made my anger disappear, if only for a moment.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Why keep me here? Why try to… win me over?”

He looked up, “You don’t rem–” he cut himself - clearing his throat - his voice rough, but he quickly regained his composure. “It’s because… there’s a part of me that thinks… maybe, you could understand.” He answered instead. 

His words hung in the air, strange and familiar, like an echo of something I couldn’t quite remember. They  evoked something… a feeling, something buried deep, and I hated it, hated the way it made me question everything I’d decided about him, about this place.

I clenched my fist around the key, torn between the anger that still burned in my chest and the faint, reluctant curiosity that his words had stirred.

For now, I would keep the key. If he thought he could win me over with kindness, he was wrong. But maybe, just maybe, I could use this. I could use the library, the quiet, the solitude, to gather information, to piece together whatever I could find about Katsuki Bakugo, about his plans, about the castle’s secrets. And maybe, with a little patience, I’d find the way out that I so desperately needed.

Chapter Text

More days passed, blending together in a strange rhythm of guarded glances, tense silences, and unwelcome gestures of…

Well…

Kindness. 

Katsuki Bakugo, and his constant presence had become more bearable. His visits no longer confined to stern commands or brief, intense confrontations. Instead, he approached me with something bordering on softness per se. Each morning, following his regular routine, he dropped a new gift by my door – an ornate dagger, a cloak lined with rich fabrics, a collection of fine inks and parchment for writing. Every item was carefully chosen, all things I couldn’t ignore or dismiss as meaningless trinkets.

I was a bit wary at first. But eventually, the journals and ink had proved useful. Each night, I sat by the flickering candlelight, writing down every detail of the days I’d spent within the Bakugo Empire. I filled page after page with my observations, recording everything Katsuki had said, every fragment of information I could piece together.

Yet, despite my efforts, there was nothing suspicious, nothing incriminating. No sign of the ruthlessness I’d heard whispered in the halls of the Yagi Empire. In every interaction, he was measured, guarded. There was no evidence of secret plans, no trail of betrayal or malice. Frustration leaped at me with every page I filled, every moment of silence between us that revealed nothing.

One evening, just as I’d settled by the fireplace with my journal, the door creaked open, and Katsuki stepped in, carrying a tray laden with a feast fit for royalty. My initial response was irritation; I had hoped for another quiet evening to write. But he merely set the tray down, his expression unreadable as he gestured for me to join him.

“Consider it a… gesture of goodwill,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Or maybe even a date.”

A date. The word made my stomach twist with annoyance, yet I found myself sitting across from him, despite the tension simmering beneath the surface. Katsuki poured wine into a glass, his movements uncharacteristically graceful, as if he were accustomed to such formalities. He offered me a glass, watching me with an intensity that made me feel like I was the one under scrutiny.

We ate in silence, but Katsuki’s gaze never strayed from me, his eyes holding a warmth that felt foreign, disarming. It was different from the arrogance, the pride, I’d come to expect from him. That’s how he’s been recently, all nice. Taking away my reasons to hate him. There was a strange sincerity there, as if he wanted me to see this as more than just an obligation, as if he wanted me to see him as more than just a king. I tried to brush it off, to tell myself it was all part of his plan to keep me close. Yet, even as I reminded myself of that, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something genuine. Charming little b– Control.

After he left, I opened my journal, the candlelight casting a warm glow over the blank page before me. I pressed the quill to the paper, intending to record our dinner, to dissect every word, every gesture, in search of something – anything – that might hint at his true intentions.

But instead, I found myself writing about him. Not as the tyrant I’d expected, but as he was tonight: quiet, almost thoughtful, his rough edges softened by something I couldn’t quite understand. I tried to focus on my suspicions, on the fact that he was still holding me captive, but the words slipped away, replaced by impressions, fleeting memories of the way he’d looked at me, the brief flickers of kindness I hadn’t anticipated.

I closed the journal, feeling a strange weight settle over me. I told myself it was just exhaustion, just the toll of captivity pressing down. But as I lay down to sleep, I couldn’t help but think of him. Not as the King of the Bakugo Empire, not as the captor who’d stolen me away, but as something… else.

I pushed the thought away, closing my eyes, determined to bury it along with everything else I’d felt since coming here.

But the image of him lingered, an unbidden presence in the darkness, refusing to fade.

Sleep, when it finally came, was a restless thing, slipping in and out like a flickering candle. I lay there, twisting in the sheets, my mind too clouded with thoughts of Katsuki – of the dinner, his strange selflessness. But as exhaustion tugged me under, I found myself slipping into dreams, dark and fractured, like shards of broken glass.

In the dream, I was in a forest, the world around me cloaked in shadows and cold. And there was a boy, younger than I’d ever seen him, maybe eight or nine years old, stumbling through the trees. His clothes were torn, stained with dirt and dried blood, his face streaked with tears as he staggered forward, clutching at his side.

I wanted to look away, to push the image from my mind, but I couldn’t. I was rooted to the spot, watching him stumble forward, his steps growing slower, weaker. He fell to his knees, his small hands trembling as he pressed them into the earth, gasping for breath. And then he looked up, his red eyes meeting mine, wide and filled with a fear that cut through me like a blade.

Help me, he mouthed, his lips forming the words, but no sound came out. I reached out to him, trying to grasp his hand, to pull him out of whatever darkness had swallowed him. But my tiny fingers passed through him, as if he were nothing more than a shadow, a phantom trapped in a memory that I couldn’t touch, couldn’t change.

Then the scene shifted, blurring into a different nightmare, one even darker than the last. The boy was lying on the ground, his face pale, his chest barely rising and falling as he struggled for breath. His eyes were half-closed, clouded with pain, and the blood trickling from his side soaked into the earth around him, pooling in dark, crimson puddles.

I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but watch as the life drained out of him. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. I could only stand there, helpless, as he reached out one final time, his hand outstretched, his fingers trembling as they grasped for something – someone – that wasn’t there.

And then his voice cut through the silence, a soft, broken whisper that echoed in the darkness. Don’t leave me.

I jolted awake, my heart racing, my skin cold with sweat. The room was quiet, the flickering candle casting soft shadows on the walls, but the weight of the nightmare lingered, heavy and suffocating.

I sat up, pressing a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing, to shake off the image of that boy – the boy with red eyes, the boy who looked so much like… Katsuki. The dream was fading, slipping from my memory like water through my fingers, but the feeling of it remained, a hollow ache in my chest that I couldn’t quite explain.

I reached for my journal, needing to write it down, to capture the fragments of the dream before they disappeared completely. But as I put pen to paper, the words wouldn’t come. All I could see were those red eyes, wide and pleading, the soundless cry for help that I couldn’t answer.

Don’t leave me.

The words echoed in my mind, haunting, like a memory I couldn’t reach, like a promise I’d made long ago and forgotten. I closed the journal, setting it aside, and lay back down, staring up at the ceiling, my heart still pounding.

I told myself it was just a dream, just a meaningless fragment of my subconscious. But as I closed my eyes, the boy’s face lingered, a shadow in the darkness, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was more than just a dream.

If somehow, somewhere in a past I couldn’t remember, I’d known him before.

Chapter Text

The next morning, I found myself in Mitsuki’s sitting room again, the faint scent of jasmine and parchment filling the air. I’d expected her visit would be routine, just a check-in, maybe even a polite reminder about the luxuries surrounding me. But as soon as she settled into her chair, her eyes fixed on mine with a weight I’d come to recognise as both disarming and unreadable.

Like mother, like son.

“So,” she said, a knowing glint in her eyes, “I heard Katsuki took you out for a proper dinner last week.”

I felt my cheeks warm, my fingers clenching instinctively around the cup of tea she’d handed me. The dinner had been anything but “proper,” but something about her expression made me want to downplay the confusion it had left me in.

“It was… fine,” I replied, forcing a casual shrug.

“Fine?”

 “No! It’s just… I’d prefer something different.”

Mitsuki tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that was almost conspiratorial. “Different, hm? What would ‘different’ look like for you?”

I thought for a moment, letting my mind drift to a scene far from the polished marble halls and gilded tapestries of the Bakugo palace. “I don’t know,” I murmured, though the words came more easily than I’d expected. “Something… normal? No royal guards, no fancy dining halls. Just… something simple.”

She smiled, a glimmer of understanding flickering in her eyes. “Normal,” she repeated, as if savouring the word. “Well, that’s an idea.”

I looked at her, caught off guard by the genuine warmth in her gaze. “You’re… not going to lecture me about the importance of all this?”

She laughed, a warm, melodic sound that filled the room. “Oh, Izuku, I’ve had a lifetime of royal dinners and grand halls. Believe me, there’s nothing more valuable than a bit of normalcy.”

There was a pause, and then her crimson orbs turned thoughtful, as if she were considering something. “Why don’t you take him out, then?” she suggested, a faint glint of amusement in her smile. “Plan the kind of day you’d like. Show him a bit of your world.”

I hesitated, her suggestion feeling both absurd and strangely appealing. “You think… he’d actually agree to that?”

Wait. Why am I even considering this?

Mitsuki gave a small, knowing nod. “For you? I think he would.”

The idea settled into my mind like a quiet challenge, and despite the scepticism still lingering at te edges, I found myself nodding. 

“Alright,” WHAT?! No, when did we agree– “Let’s see if the king is ready for a ‘normal’ day.”

I give up.

There is no way this is actually happening.

I didn’t expect Katsuki to actually agree to my plan, but later that day, he surprised me, appearing at my door without the usual entourage of guards. His expression was curious, his posture relaxed. He wore simple clothes, a dark cloak over plain attire that would allow him to blend in easily among the people. For the first time, he looked less like the King of the Bakugo Empire and more like just… Katsuki.

“Lead the way,” he said with a hint of challenge in his tone, as if daring me to show him something he hadn’t seen before. 

I couldn’t help but grin. “Try to keep up.”

We wandered through the winding streets of the kingdom, weaving between clusters of people, market stalls, and busy shops that lined the streets. The air was alive with the scent of freshly baked bread, roasted chestnuts, and the sharp tang of citrus fruits. Vendors shouted their wares, children darted through the crowd, and musicians strummed lively tunes on street corners. It’s really been too long.

“Do they always shout this much?” Katsuki interrupted my thoughts, his voice cutting through the chatter as we passed a particularly vocal fishmonger who seemed intent on announcing every feature of his product to the entire street.

I laughed, unable to help myself. “Only when they’re trying to outsell their neighbours. You’d think they’re performing in front of the whole kingdom.”

Katsuki scoffed, his expression half-annoyed but tinged with amusement. “I’ve heard quieter battlefields.”

“Maybe they should send you to negotiate peace treaties,” I teased. “You could intimidate them into silence.”

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk playing on his lips becoming sharper. “You saying I’m scarier than a shouting fishmonger?”

I bit back a grin. “Depends on the day. But I’d bet on you in a shouting match any time.”

“Damn right you would,” he announced. “No one beats me at yelling.”

Shaking my head, I led him to a small stand selling tiny wooden carvings. My fingers brushed over a delicate figure of a bird with its wings spread wide, its head tilted as if about to take flight.

“You like it?” Katsuki asked, leaning slightly over my shoulder, his tone casual but with a teasing edge.

I nodded, running my thumb over the smooth wood. “It’s nice, peaceful. There’s something about the simple things, you know?”

“Didn’t think simple was your style,” he said, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

I gasped, fake-offended. “I didn’t say I settle! But sometimes, the simple things are the ones that matter most.”

“Hah. Sounds like you’re just trying to make excuses,” he stated, a smirk curling on his lips.

Before I could retort, he suddenly reached into his cloak, pulled out a handful of coins, and thrust them toward the vendor with the air of someone making a grand proclamation. “Here. For the bird.”

“Katsuki!” I exclaimed, startled as he snatched the carving off the table and dropped it into my palm without so much as a glance at the vendor’s startled thanks.

“You like it,” he said simply. “Keep it.”

I stared at him, the little bird resting in my hand. “Umm… thank you,” I managed, my voice quieter than I intended.

His smirk widened, and his voice dropped into a teasing drawl. “You can thank me with something else.”

Huh?

My cheeks warmed as realisation sank in, and I opened my mouth to respond but came up short. He turned before I could manage a comeback, already striding ahead with a self-satisfied air.

“Don’t fall behind, bird collector,” he called over his shoulder.

I let out a breathy laugh, clutching the carving tightly as I hurried after him.

We continued through the market, exchanging small talk. Katsuki surprised me with his sharp observations - he commented on the quality of a merchant’s spices, the craftsmanship of a potter’s wares, even the way a street performer managed to keep a crowd entertained.

“When was the last time you came here?” I asked at one point.

“Years ago,” he admitted. “But not like this.”

“Like this?”

“Without guards. Without people bowing and scraping. Just so…” He gestured vaguely, searching for the right word. “Ordinary.”

The word lingered between us. For the first time, I realised how rare it was for him to experience anything like this.

We eventually reached the outskirts of the market, where a sprawling garden bordered the main road. Flowers in every colour bloomed in neatly arranged beds, and benches were tucked under trees heavy with late-summer leaves. It was impressive, but not as impressive as the palace garden. 

I led Katsuki down a narrow path winding through the garden. A young couple walked past, sharing a pastry and laughing at some private joke. A boy chased after a kite, his laughter ringing through the air.

Katsuki slowed his walking, his arms crossed as he observed it all. His expression was more thoughtful than I’d ever seen.

“You’re staring,” he said without looking at me.

“You’re smiling,” I shot back.

His brows furrowed, and the faint smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Shut up.”

I smirked. “You’re terrible at hiding it, you know.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… strange, I guess.”

“What is?”

“Out here, they don’t know who I am,” he said, his voice quieter. 

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” I asked, tilting my head to catch his gaze.

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Then, almost grudgingly, he said, “Yeah. It does.”

We fell into another comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. I glanced down at the wooden bird still resting in my hand and smiled. For the first time, it felt like I wasn’t just standing beside the King of the Bakugo Empire - I was sitting next to Katsuki, the man.

We continued walking through the garden, the sun casting long shadows over the path. The golden light softened the edges of the world around us, giving everything a warm, serene glow. Katsuki walked slightly ahead, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze flicking occasionally to the small groups of people scattered along the way.

“It’s getting crowded,” he muttered, his voice low but audible above the rustling of the trees.

I followed his eyes and saw a throng of people gathering near a vendor selling fresh flowers. The vendor’s voice carried over the din, his hands gesturing toward vibrant bouquets wrapped in crisp paper.

“Let’s just pass through,” I suggested, weaving into the cluster of people. Katsuki’s hand brushed mine briefly as we moved together, but the press of bodies soon separated us.

“Katsuki?” I called out, glancing over my shoulder. He wasn’t behind me.

I turned fully, scanning the crowd for a dark cloak or the familiar mess of blonde hair. My heart thumped faster, not with fear, but with a strange, uneasy anticipation. Then I turned back toward the path – and froze.

A figure stood directly in front of me, blocking my view. He was tall, his broad shoulders covered by a dark coat that blended almost seamlessly into the gathering dusk. His eyes – cold and as red as Katsuki's – fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch. Blue hair fell around his face in a slight wave, catching the fading sunlight in a way that was both beautiful and chilling.

I stared at him, my heart pounding as a foggy sense of recognition took hold. Where had I seen him before?

His lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but the sound never came. Instead, a firm hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back with a strength that was both grounding and protective.

“There you are,” Katsuki’s voice broke the moment, steady and edged with irritation.

I turned to see him standing beside me, his presence like a shield. He pulled me closer, his body positioning itself between me and the stranger with instinctive precision. 

I glanced back at the stranger, wanting to ask who he was. But he was gone – vanished into the crowd as if he had never been there.

Katsuki’s grip on my shoulder tightened briefly before he let go, his gaze dropping to meet mine. “You alright?”

I nodded, though my voice quivered slightly as I spoke. “Yeah… I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

His eyes lingered on me for a moment, searching, before he sighed. “You’ve got to stay close. Don’t go wandering off like that.”

The playful ease of our earlier walk was gone, replaced by a tension that pressed down like a weight. Katsuki’s posture had shifted, his movements were more guarded as he guided us back toward the main path. Every so often, he glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the stranger.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon as we left the garden, the golden light replaced by deepening shadows. Katsuki’s silence was heavy, though his presence was steady beside me. Whatever trace of normalcy he’d shown earlier had vanished, replaced by the cautious demeanour I had come to know.

When we finally reached the edge of the market, he stopped and turned to me. His expression was unreadable, his voice quiet but firm. “If you see him again, you tell me. Understand?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I will.”

Satisfied, he motioned for us to continue, though the air between us remained taut.

Later that night, the stranger’s face lingered in my mind, vivid even as I sat in the quiet of my room. His eyes – piercing, knowing – had burned into me like a brand. Something about him felt too familiar, as if he knew me, or at least something about me that I didn’t yet understand.

I paced the room, trying to place where I’d seen him before, but my thoughts were like sand slipping through my fingers. The memory was there, just out of reach.

What if this wasn’t a chance encounter?– No, you’re overthinking this, Izuku.

As the hours ticked by, my exhaustion won out. I crawled into bed, my body heavy but my mind restless.

As I closed my eyes, something told me it wouldn’t be the last time I saw him. 

And the next time, I might not have Katsuki there to pull me away.

Chapter Text

I should have known something was off the moment Momo walked into my room that morning with an air of purpose that seemed more reckoned than usual. She carried a tray laden not with food but with what appeared to be an array of fabrics - rich velvets and silks, gleaming in shades of crimson and gold. My brows furrowed at the sight, unease pooling in my chest.

“What’s that for?” I asked, gesturing at the tray as she set it down on the table near the window.

Momo didn’t answer right away. She moved, smoothing out the fabrics with her hand before finally glancing at me. Her expression was calm but unreadable, a faint trace of humour glinting in her eyes.

“You’re being prepared for a visit,” she said simply.

I leaned against the edge of the bed, crossing my arms. “Again? What kind of visit?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes. “And don’t dodge the question.”

Momo hesitated for a beat, her hands stilling as she adjusted a particularly intricate piece of gold-threaded fabric. Then she straightened, clasping her hands in front of her. “The wedding planner,” she said, her tone even, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb into my lap.

I stared at her, the words hanging in the air between us, too absurd to process. “The what ?” I demanded, my voice sharp, the disbelief plain on my face.

Momo met my gaze evenly, as though daring me to argue. “The wedding planner,” she repeated, her tone betraying no hint of hesitation. “His Majesty thought it prudent to begin the preparations.”

I blinked, my mind racing, trying to make sense of the absurdity she’d just laid before me. The ball - the cursed event where this nightmare had begun - had been framed as a selection process, a cruel charade meant for Katsuki to choose a spouse. I’d assumed, foolishly perhaps, that it had been nothing more than a performance, a fleeting whim he’d quickly discard once reality set in.

But no. Of course not. Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t one to let go of anything he’d decided was his.

“And this is happening now ?” I asked, the incredulity clear in my voice. “I didn’t realise we were on such a strict timeline.”

Momo gave a small shrug, her calm demeanour only adding to my growing frustration. “His Majesty is a man of action,” she said matter-of-factly. “Once he makes a decision, he doesn’t waste time.”

I dragged a hand through my hair, the tension knitting tighter in my chest. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered, beginning to pace. “I don’t even - this doesn’t make any sense! Why would he-” I cut myself off, realising there was no point in trying to understand the logic of someone like Katsuki. It wasn’t about reason or timing or practicality. It was about control.

UGHH

Momo watched me with quiet patience as I worked through my frustration. Finally, she spoke again, “Izuku,” she began, her words careful. “I know this isn’t what you want, but... it’s better to face it head-on than to resist something inevitable.”

I stopped pacing, turning to glare at her. “Inevitable?” I repeated, my voice tinged with bitterness. “I didn’t agree to any of this, Momo. How is this inevitable?”

“Because he’s Katsuki Bakugo,” she said simply. “And when he decides on something, he doesn’t stop. You know that as well as I do.”

The words were a reminder I didn’t want, a truth I couldn’t ignore. Katsuki’s will was as relentless as the man himself - unbending, consuming, and utterly exhausting. I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, that this was one line he couldn’t cross. But deep down, I knew better.

I exhaled sharply, the fight leaving me in one heavy breath. “Fine,” I muttered, throwing up my hands in defeat. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Momo gave me a small nod of approval, moving to retrieve a piece of fabric from the tray. “Good,” she said, her tone tinged with a hint of satisfaction. “Now, stand still.”

I rolled my eyes but did as she asked, allowing her to drape a deep crimson fabric over one shoulder, adjusting it as though she were sizing me up for a formal portrait. Her movements were quick, her hands deft as she worked, pinning and unpinning sections with an almost uncanny precision.

“You don’t have to enjoy this,” she said after a moment, her tone light. “But you should at least try to look the part.”

I let out a humourless laugh. “I doubt that’ll help,” I muttered. “No amount of fabric or posturing is going to change how I feel about this.”

“Perhaps not,” she replied, stepping back to assess her work. “But appearances matter, Izuku. Especially when it comes to matters of the court.”

I didn’t respond, my gaze fixed on the far wall as her words sank in. She wasn’t wrong, of course. This wasn’t just about me, or even Katsuki. It was about power, perception, and the endless politics that came with being entangled in the affairs of a kingdom I wanted nothing to do with.

As Momo continued her work, my mind raced with thoughts I couldn’t suppress - of the life I’d been pulled away from, of the friends I’d left behind, and of the strange, maddening connection that seemed to tether me to Katsuki, no matter how hard I tried to sever it.

I think I'm going insane.

By the time Momo stepped back, satisfied with her adjustments, I felt more like a pawn than ever. The weight of the fabric, the carefully curated appearance - it all felt like a shackle, a tangible reminder of the role Katsuki expected me to play.

“There,” Momo said, her tone brisk as she smoothed the final fold of fabric. “Perfect.”

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, the person staring back at me barely perceptible. The deep red and gold of the ensemble seemed to amplify every detail, every feature, transforming me into something I didn’t recognise. 

And as the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall outside my door, I realised I didn’t have much of a choice.

The knock at the door was polite, a quiet prelude to the chaos that followed. Before I could brace myself, the wedding planner - Hikaru, according to Momo -  swept into the room, a whirlwind of colour and movement. He was a stocky man with an air of relentless cheerfulness, his arms laden with fabric swatches and scrolls that nearly toppled out of his grasp.

“Ah, Master Midoriya!” he exclaimed, his voice booming as though we were old friends reunited after years apart. “What a delight to meet you! Truly, a vision of elegance and charm. His Majesty has spoken so highly of you!”

I blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer energy radiating from him. “Uh… thanks?” I mumbled, unsure how else to respond to the barrage of enthusiasm.

“Now, now,” he continued, plopping his armful of materials onto the table with a flourish. “We have so much to discuss! The ceremony, the decor, the attire - it must be absolutely perfect for such a union! His Majesty has made it clear that only the finest will do.”

I sat stiffly, watching as he unrolled a series of parchment scrolls, each one covered in intricate sketches of gowns, suits, floral arrangements, and even a grand archway adorned with roses. The sheer extravagance of it all made my head spin.

“Wait,” I said, raising a hand to stop him as he began detailing the nuances of gold-thread embroidery. “Are we really doing this? Now?”

The planner paused, his cheerful demeanour faltering slightly as he glanced at me. “Of course, Master Midoriya. His Majesty has given the order. Time is of the essence!”

I leaned back, the weight of his words sinking in. So this wasn’t just some idle exercise, some whim Katsuki would discard as easily as he’d declared it. He was serious. Dead serious. 

The planner, oblivious to my inner-whatever the hell was going on in my brain, launched into a discussion about colour schemes, holding up swatches of crimson and white. I nodded mechanically, not trusting myself to speak as the enormity of the situation loomed larger with every passing second.

At one point, he leaned closer, his eyes appraising. “You truly are a striking figure, Master Midoriya,” he said, his voice almost reverent. “The public... oh, they’ll adore you! His Majesty is a lucky man indeed.”

Heat rushed to my face, equal parts embarrassment and irritation. “Uh… thank you,” I muttered, my voice strained. I glanced toward the door, silently praying for an interruption.

As if on cue, the door swung open with a sharp creak. Katsuki entered, his crimson eyes sweeping the room before locking onto me. His presence filled the space instantly, the energy shifting in a way that made the air feel heavier.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual as he stepped closer. His eyes flicked to the wedding planner, narrowing slightly. “What’s going on here?”

“Your Majesty!” the planner said, bowing deeply. “We were just discussing the arrangements for the ceremony. Master Midoriya has been most accommodating.”

Katsuki’s gaze snapped back to me, lingering for a moment too long. His smirk was faint but dangerous. “That so?” he murmured.

I straightened, “Just trying to get through it,” I said evenly, my tone leaving no room for interpretation.

The planner, oblivious to the tension, clapped his hands together. “Excellent! His Majesty has such an eye for detail - I’m sure he’ll have suggestions to make this even more spectacular.”

Katsuki’s attention shifted back to him, and I saw the faint twitch of his jaw, the smirk slipping into something sharper. “Suggestions?” he repeated, his tone low, dangerous. “What kind of suggestions?”

The planner faltered, his cheerful demeanour dimming under Katsuki’s scrutiny. “I… I was merely remarking on Master Midoriya’s striking features,” he stammered, his hands fluttering as though to ward off the weight of Katsuki’s glare. “A compliment, Your Majesty, nothing more.”

The air grew thick, the tension palpable as Katsuki took a slow step forward. “Next time,” he said, his voice like steel, “keep your compliments to yourself.”

The planner nodded quickly, his face pale. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing so low it looked painful.

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki’s sharp voice cut through the air like a blade, and we all turned to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed and an exasperated expression on her face. “Stop terrorising the poor man. He’s here to plan your wedding, not grovel for his life.”

Katsuki turned to her, his glare softening slightly , though the tension in his posture didn’t fade. “He should watch his mouth,” he muttered, his tone defiant but subdued.

Mitsuki rolled her eyes, striding into the room with the kind of authority that demanded attention. “And you should learn to take a compliment without turning it into a confrontation,” she said, fixing him with a pointed look. “Honestly, you’d think you’d have grown out of this by now.”

I bit back a smirk, watching as Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides. It was the closest thing I’d seen to him being chastised, and it was oddly satisfying.

Before anyone could say more, the door opened again, this time revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair and an air of quiet command. He stepped inside, his sharp eyes locking onto Katsuki immediately.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice calm but urgent. “We need you. It’s an emergency.”

Katsuki frowned, his eyes shifting between me and the commander. “What kind of emergency?”

“Details are still incoming,” the man replied. “But it requires your immediate attention.”

For a moment, Katsuki hesitated, looking at me. Then he turned to Mitsuki. “Make sure this gets done,” he said curtly, gesturing to the planner. “I’ll be back.”

Without another word, he strode out of the room, the commander following close behind. The door shut with a heavy thud, leaving behind a silence that felt both suffocating and oddly relieving.

I exhaled slowly, the weight of his absence settling over me like a fragile reprieve. But even as I sat there, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions and tension that had just passed, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling curling in the pit of my stomach.

Whatever emergency had called him away, it wasn’t going to make this any easier. If anything, it felt like the storm had only just begun.

Chapter Text

“This better be worth it, shitty hair,” I said as the heavy doors to the war room slammed shut behind me. My boots echoed off the stone floor as I stalked forward, fury tightening my muscles. “You’re lucky I didn’t roast your ass for pulling me away from Izuku right now.”

Eijiro Kirishima, my commander and the only person stupid enough to think he could drag me out of that room, raised his hands in mock surrender. “Katsuki, it’s an emergency. I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

I ignored him and spun on my heel, pacing back toward the door like I could will myself back to Izuku’s side. “Emergency, my ass,” I snapped. “I’ve got more important shit to deal with - like making sure that wedding planner doesn’t get any bright ideas about flattering what’s mine.”

Kirishima’s brows furrowed, his voice firm but cautious. “You were going to scare the poor guy half to death if I didn’t pull you out, Katsuki. Izuku can handle—”

“Don’t.” The word tore out of me, low and guttural, stopping him mid-sentence. My chest tightened at the thought of Izuku alone in that room, surrounded by strangers who dared to even look at him like he wasn’t untouchable - at least the old hag was with him, but that isn’t enough. “You don’t get to tell me to leave him alone. He’s not ready for this yet.”

Kirishima sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was bracing for my next explosion. “Ready for what? You not hovering over him every second? Come on, Katsuki. He’s already stressed out, and you’re just making it worse.”

I whirled on him, the fire in my chest flaring hotter. “What the fuck do you know about what he needs, huh? You think you can take care of him better than I can?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, man,” Kirishima said, his voice even, though I could see the tension creeping into his posture. “I’m just saying maybe give him some breathing room.”

“He doesn’t need breathing room,” I spat, the words sharp enough to cut. “He needs to stay where I can keep an eye on him - where no one can touch him, no one can fucking take him from me.”

Kirishima stared at me for a long moment, his expression somewhere between concern and frustration. “Katsuki,” he said finally, his voice softer. “You’re not protecting him if you’re suffocating him. I know what happened and I know you’re scared. But things aren’t the same as last time.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I shoved the feeling down, burying it under the simmering rage that had become second nature. “Aren't the same? You don’t fucking get it,” I muttered, turning back toward the door. “I just—” I broke off, my throat tightening around the words I didn’t know how to say.

“I get it,” Kirishima said after a moment, his tone gentler now. “I know you care about him, Katsuki. I know. I know how much he means to you. But you can’t protect him from everything yourself, he knows how to do things on his own.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The thought of leaving Izuku alone - of something happening to him while I wasn’t there to stop it - was unbearable. But Kirishima was right about one thing: this wasn’t just about me anymore. I need to stop being selfish. 

With a sharp exhale, I forced myself to turn away from the door, to focus on the reason Kirishima had dragged me out in the first place. “Fine,” I said, my voice rough, like the word was being torn from me. “Now, what’s so important it couldn’t wait?”

“All For One,” Kirishima said simply, his expression hardening.

The name hit me like a match to dry wood, the fire in my chest sparking into an inferno as we entered the conference room. I strode toward the table, where a map of the region lay spread out, marked with red ink and scattered notes.

“All For One.” Of course, I thought, scanning the map.

“He’s making a move,” Kirishima said, stepping beside me. “His forces are probing the Yagi Empire’s borders. It’s not a full invasion yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“Of fucking course it is,” I muttered, slamming my hands onto the table hard enough to rattle the markers. “That bastard’s been waiting for years, circling like a goddamn vulture. What the hell are they doing about it? Sitting on their hands?”

“They’ve been trying to hold him off,” Kirishima said grimly. “But their warning system collapsed weeks ago. We sent messages - warnings - but none of them got through.”

I froze, my blood turning cold. “What do you mean, none of them got through?”

“They’ve blocked us out,” Kirishima said, his voice tight. “They’re refusing to let us in to help. The rumours about…uhh… you, or rather... your methods, have them convinced you’re more dangerous than the threat at their gates.”

“What the fuck?!” I shouted, the words bouncing off the stone walls. “They think I’m the problem? Those spineless idiots would rather get steamrolled by that wrinkled sack of shit than let me clean up their mess?”

Kirishima didn’t flinch, though his shoulders tensed. “It’s fear, Katsuki,” he said quietly. “They’re scared of him. And they’re scared of you.”

“Good,” I snapped, my voice low and venomous. “Let them be scared. But they’re gonna regret it when their precious empire is in ashes, and I’m the only one who could’ve stopped it.”

“It’s not just their empire at stake,” Kirishima said, gesturing to the map. “If All For One gets a foothold in the Yagi Empire, the Bakugo Empire is next.”

The words settled in my chest like a boulder, heavy and suffocating. I stared down at the map, my mind racing with scenarios—none of them good. If that bastard got anywhere near my borders, near my people…

Near Izuku .

I clenched my fists, the fire roaring back to life. “Fine,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “We up security - everywhere. If All For One so much as breathes in my direction, I want to know about it before he finishes the exhale.”

Kirishima nodded, his expression grim. “Understood.”

“And send another warning to Yagi,” I added, my voice hard. “I don’t care if they don’t want my help - they’re gonna fucking get it whether they like it or not.”

Kirishima hesitated, glancing at me. “And…Izuku? He’s from Yagi too…I’m sure they-”

The sound of his name hit me like a jolt, my jaw tightening. “He stays here. He stays safe,” I cut him off, my voice dropping. “I don’t care what it takes - he stays out of this. He’s here now, he’s not is Yagi. He’s here.” I say, reassuring myself more than Kirishima.

The war room buzzed with movement as the commanders gathered around the map, their voices low but urgent as they relayed reports from the borders. I didn’t bother sitting - my energy burned too hot, too wild to be contained in one place. My boots hit the floor with a steady rhythm as I paced, every step matching the erratic pulse pounding in my ears.

“All patrols are doubling as of now,” I commanded, slamming my hand onto the table, causing the nearest commanders to flinch. “I don’t care if it means pulling guards from the fucking kitchens - this empire doesn’t sleep until I say so.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” one of them murmured, quickly jotting notes onto a scroll.

I ignored him, my focus locked on the map. Each line, each mark, was a potential weakness, a crack All For One could exploit. I turned to Kirishima, who stood just to my right, his face calm but watchful. “Where’s the weak point?” I demanded.

Kirishima leaned over the map, his finger tracing a line along the border. “Here,” he said. “The southern passes are the most exposed. If All For One pushes through, that’s where he’ll hit first.”

“Then we reinforce the southern line,” I snapped. “Triple the guards - no, quadruple them. I want the bastards to choke on their own stupidity if they try to cross.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite my growing volatility.

“And make sure they know one thing,” I continued, my voice low and lethal. “This isn’t just about the empire. It’s about protecting everything that belongs to me, to us and the people of this empire. Every soldier out there fights with that in mind. Send another message to the Yagi Empire. I don’t give a shit if they don’t want my help—this is bigger than their stupid pride. They’ll listen, or they’ll learn the hard way.”

Kirishima nodded quickly, scribbling the order onto a piece of parchment.

“And if they don’t listen?” Kirishima asked, raising an eyebrow.

I met his gaze, a dangerous grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Then we make them listen.”

Hours later, as the war room emptied and the commanders filed out with their orders, I found myself standing alone by the map. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind a restless energy that refused to settle. My thoughts drifted back to Izuku and his oh-so-adorable defiant glare, the way he bristled whenever I got too close, like a cornered animal.

I knew he hated me. He probably dreamed of escaping, of running back to whatever life he’d had before I claimed him. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t see the bigger picture—the danger that loomed just outside these walls, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

And no matter how much he fought me, no matter how much he resisted, I wasn’t letting him go.

And if anyone thought they could take him from me, I’d make damn sure they regretted it.

Because for him, I'd let this world burn. 

Chapter Text

The tea in my hands was lukewarm, but I barely noticed as I stared absently out the window of Mitsuki’s drawing room. Sunlight filtered through the tall glass panes, casting golden patterns across the stone floors. Across from me, Mitsuki sat back in her chair, watching me with that usual, knowing look of hers, the kind that saw more than I ever intended to show. The tea smelled faintly of lavender, and under normal circumstances, it might’ve calmed me - but today, my mind was too restless for that.

The wedding planner had left a while ago - making me choose most of the decorations either way. But that wasn't the main agenda on my mind right now.

My thoughts involuntarily drifted back to him . I tried to shake off the memory of Katsuki’s face from yesterday, but it lingered, stubborn. Just like him. The subtle lines of worry in his expression, the way his hand had lingered on my shoulder just a moment too long before the red head -  Kirishima -  had pulled him away. He was tense, maybe even anxious, though I’d never say that to his face.

Should I… do something for him?

The thought felt foolish the moment it crossed my mind, and I set my teacup down, scowling to myself. What am I even thinking? Katsuki was the one who’d dragged me into this mess of an engagement in the first place. I wasn’t supposed to be worrying about him. And yet, the memory of that fleeting look he’d given me - something I couldn’t quite place - rushed at me, like a quiet whisper I couldn’t ignore.

It’s not like we’re actually going to get married, anyway. That thought brought a familiar wave of assurance. I’ll find a way out before that ever happens. I’d tell him off, walk away, maybe even disappear. I wasn’t here to fall for him or get attached. But still… I found myself glancing back down at the tea, wondering if there was something I could do to ease that tension I’d seen in him, even if just for a moment.

My gaze flickered up to Mitsuki, who was still watching me, her lips curling in an amused smile. She tilted her head, eyebrow raised, as if she knew exactly what I was struggling with.

“Lost in thought, are we?” she asked, her voice laced with the kind of warmth that felt oddly maternal. She took another sip of her tea, her eyes bright with curiosity.

I cleared my throat, trying to shake off my embarrassment. “Sorry, I was just… thinking.”

“Oh, I can tell,” she replied, leaning forward with a teasing gleam in her eye. “Something… or someone on your mind, perhaps?”

My cheeks heated, and I fought the urge to look away. “It’s not like that,” I mumbled, though I knew the colour in my face was telling a different story. Mitsuki’s smile only widened.

“Of course, it isn’t,” she said, clearly not buying it. She set her cup down, folding her hands as she leaned in with an air of anticipation. “Izuku, it’s perfectly natural to worry about someone you… care for.”

The word felt strange coming from her, and I felt a pang of discomfort. Care for? It wasn’t like that - I couldn’t let it be like that. Sure, Katsuki and I had come a long way from the prickly, tense arrangement we’d started with. But that didn’t mean I was here to start “caring” about him. And yet, the thought of him carrying all that weight, those burdens he so often hid behind his arrogance, alone…

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “What do you think I should do?” I asked, hesitating as I chose my words. “I mean… to help him feel better?”

Her eyes sparkled with even more amusement, though her smile softened. “Oh, Izuku, it’s simple. Just do what your heart is telling you. Trust me, you’ll know what to do.”

Her words settled in my mind, her tone making it sound so easy, as if the answer was already in front of me. I looked down, feeling a little foolish but also oddly… relieved. Maybe she was right. Maybe I just had to let myself do what felt right, for once.

“Alright,” I said finally. “I… I think I know what to do.”

Back in my quarters, I carefully spread out the materials I’d gathered on the small table near the window. Scarlet silk, smooth and vibrant, shimmered faintly under the slanted rays of the afternoon sun. Beside it sat a spool of green thread, its colour rich and deep, holding an unspoken significance I couldn’t quite name. My fingers grazed the fabric, lingering as if trying to commit its texture to memory. I could already see the finished piece in my mind, something uniquely his . But it needed a personal touch, didn’t it? Something small, something… mine.

A cravat felt right. Regal, elegant, and practical. Katsuki wore them often, and the red would complement his royal attire, the green… offering a softer counterpoint. I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen that particular shade. It’s just for the design, I told myself. Only for the design.

But… why does it feel familiar?

Shaking away the thought I picked up the needle and thread, threading it with a slowly, and began the first stitch. My hands were unsteady, the silk slipping beneath my fingers as I tried to hold it taut. The first few lines were rough, uneven, forcing me to stop and start over more than once. My frustration simmered, but I pushed through, my focus compelling with each pass of the needle.

Soon, the motions became rhythmic. The needle dipped in and out of the fabric, each stitch locking me into a quiet, meditative state. A part of me wondered what he’d think when he saw it. Would he notice the care in the details? The way the colours weren’t just a blend of royal tradition but also something deeply personal? I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing my focus back to the work. Don’t get carried away, I told myself. It’s just a gift. Nothing more.

Time slipped away unnoticed, the light from the window dimming until only the warm glow of a single candle illuminated my work. My fingers were raw, the ache in my shoulders persistent, but I hardly cared. Stitch by stitch, the cravat came to life, the red silk rich and commanding, the green embroidery threading through like veins of life. Ochako would be proud.

When I finally lifted it in the faint candlelight, the finished piece gleamed, its details catching the glow with quiet elegance. His initials sat nestled at the edge of the pattern, so small they could almost be missed. But they were there.

I exhaled softly, the tension melting from my body as I admired the work. It was everything I’d hoped it would be and more. A thought crossed my mind as I traced the stitching: What if he hated it? But no— he wouldn’t. He’d look good in it - like he does in everything else. 

And now, with the cravat resting in my lap, my hands trembled faintly from both exhaustion and anticipation. 

I could hardly wait to give it to him.

Finding Katsuki was easy - he was in his study, hunched over a map-covered desk, his brows furrowed in concentration. I lingered by the door for a moment, hesitating as I took in the way his golden hair caught the dim light, his usual fierce expression calmed by the quiet of the room. My heart stuttered, but I steeled myself, taking a small step forward.

He looked up as I approached, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. His lips quirked, a slow, almost teasing smirk forming. “What brings you here?”

My pulse skipped, and I shifted awkwardly under his scrutiny. “I, uh… I made this for you.” I muttered, holding up the cravat. 

Katsuki’s eyes widened slightly, the surprise quickly replaced by intrigue. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, ogling the cravat and then me. “You made this? For me ?” There was an almost hysterical edge in his tone that made my stomach flip.

“Yes,” I said, cheeks burning. “I just thought…” My voice trailed off under his stare. Not the time, heart.

He unfolded his arms and reached out to take the cravat, his fingers brushing mine deliberately, lingering just long enough to send sparks skittering down my spine. He held it up, inspecting the intricate embroidery. He froze as he noticed the colour - it was so sudden that I thought he didn't like it - but quickly gained his composure, “Green, huh?” He cocked an eyebrow, his grin widening.

“I thought it’d suit you”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki’s smirk was practically predatory now, his crimson eyes gleaming. “Guess you’d know what suits me, huh?”

This assh- Control. 

Flustered, I scrambled to respond, but he cut me off with a low chuckle. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m just messin’ with you.” He tilted his head, holding the cravat out between his fingers. “But since you’re here, why don’t you put it on me? You did go through all that trouble, didn’t you?”

Heat flared across my face, and I hesitated. But those crimson orbs bore into mine, a playful challenge sparking in his eyes, and my pride refused to back down. With a quiet sigh, I stepped closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the warmth radiating from him. My hands trembled as I reached up, brushing against the rough fabric of his collar to drape the silk cravat around his neck.

“You nervous, Izuku?” he teased, his voice a low murmur that made my breath hitch. “Didn’t know tying a knot could be so intense for you.”

“I’m not nervous!” I snapped, though the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. My fingers worked quickly, fumbling slightly as I tied the ends into a neat knot. He stayed perfectly still, but I could feel the weight of him on me - heavy and warm.

When I stepped back, my heart was pounding. “There,” I said softly, avoiding his eyes. “Looks nice.”

Katsuki’s smirk softened, and for a fleeting moment, something gentler flickered in his expression. He glanced down at the cravat, his fingers brushing over the fabric as though testing its feel. “You did a damn good job, Izuku,” he said, his voice quieter, almost husky. Then, he leaned in, putting his hands on my waist, close enough that I could feel his breath against my ear.

“Guess I should find a way to thank you, huh?”

My face burned so fiercely I was sure he could see it, and he pulled back just enough to catch my wide-eyed expression. His grin turned smug, and he reached out to ruffle my hair, laughing softly as I swatted at his hand.

“Relax, nerd. I’m kidding.” He winked, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Unless you want me to, of course.”

I sputtered, but he just laughed, turning back to his desk as if he hadn’t just left me a complete, flustered mess. Before I could respond, a sudden, frantic shout shattered the quiet like a blade through glass.

“Your Majesty!” The doors slammed open, a guard stumbling inside, his face ashen, breath coming in ragged gasps. “All for One’s forces—they’ve breached the northern border! The kingdom is under siege!”

All for One...?

All for One. The name struck like a thunderclap, the weight of it squeezing the air from my lungs. No. It can’t be. Not after everything. Not after the Endeavor Empire crushed him. My thoughts spiralled, each one sharper and more desperate than the last.

Katsuki’s expression turned solid in an instant, his composed intensity erupting into something feral. He moved like a coiled spring snapping into action, every line of his body radiating dangerous power. His hand fell to the hilt of his sword with deadly certainty, his steps rushed as he strode toward the door. He didn't tell me about this. He can't leave-

He paused at the threshold, his presence crackling with an almost unbearable energy that filled the room and made it hard to breathe. He turned toward me, his voice sharp enough to cut through my chaotic thoughts. “Stay here, Izuku.” The command was absolute, brooking no argument. “Don’t even think about leaving until I get back.” 

Then, softer, his lips curved into the faintest, fleeting smirk. “I’ll give you a treat for this later.”

And just like that, he was gone, the door left swinging in his wake. His footsteps pounded down the corridor, their rhythm like the drumbeat of war, fading into the distance as the enormity of what was happening closed in on me.

I stood rooted in place, my legs trembling beneath me as a recognisable sense of seperation eclipsed me. The room felt colder, emptier without him, but the tension he left behind clung to me like a second skin. My chest heaved as I fought to steady myself, each breath thin and tight.

The cravat was still knotted around his neck as he disappeared. It felt like a part of me had gone with him, tied in the threads of that small gift.

And now, as I stared at the empty doorway, that small token seemed like a fragile thread holding me together. The silence swelled, heavy and oppressive, until it felt like I might break under the weight of the unknown.

Would he come back? Could anyone come back from the shadow of his name?

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hold onto the image of Katsuki - the strength in his stride and the fire in his voice. Katsuki wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t .

But that didn’t stop the fear from clawing at the edges of my will, a cold and merciless reminder that this moment could change everything.

Chapter Text

The weight settled in my chest the moment I walked away from the door, heavier with every step. I could still picture Izuku behind it, his arms crossed, that stubborn glare on his face. I hated leaving him. Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to keep him within reach, where I could see him, where nothing and no one could get to him. But there wasn’t a choice, just like last time.

The corridor stretched long and cold ahead of me, the torches casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. My boots echoed louder than usual, like the emptiness around me was swallowing the sound. Each step brought a sickening déjà vu, a memory I didn’t want to touch but couldn’t seem to outrun.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Not again, I thought, the words more a command than a reassurance. This wasn’t then. It wasn’t the same.

Except it fucking felt the same.

I shook my head, the anger boiling over to drown the unease threatening to creep in. I didn’t have time for this shit. Not when All For One’s forces were clawing at my borders, not when every decision I made could mean the difference between keeping my empire intact and watching it fall apart piece by piece.

Still, the thought of leaving him - leaving Izuku - left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Your Majesty,” a voice called from behind, breaking through the haze. I turned to see Kirishima striding toward me, his expression grim. “The troops are ready. We’re waiting on your command.”

“Good,” I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended. “We move now. I want this shit dealt with before it has a chance to spiral.”

Kirishima nodded, but I caught the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He’d been watching me closely since the moment we heard the first report of an attack, like he was trying to figure out how close I was to snapping.

I didn’t need his concern. I needed him to follow orders.

“Anything else?” I said, crossing my arms.

Kirishima hesitated for just a second too long, then shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. I’ll meet you at the gate.”

I nodded sharply, turning on my heel to continue down the corridor. But even as I walked, the memories kept clawing at the edge of my thoughts. That sick feeling, the one that came with knowing I was leaving someone behind. The last time had been different. Izuku doesn’t remember it, but I do. It had left a scar, one I didn’t like acknowledging.

I gritted my teeth, pushing the thought away. Izuku was safe. He was here, in my castle, surrounded by guards and defenses I’d personally ensured were impenetrable.

I reached the main hall, where the air was alive with movement - soldiers strapping on armour, commanders pouring over maps, aides shouting last-minute orders. The tension was thick, but it was familiar, grounding in a way the rest of this situation wasn’t.

I took a moment, scanning the scene, letting the chaos settle into something sharp and focused in my mind. “We hit hard, fast,” I said, my voice steady. “No waiting, no hesitation. We push them back and send a message they won’t fucking forget.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they said, expressions hardening.

I glanced back toward the castle for just a moment, my gaze flickering to the highest tower. I knew which window was Izuku’s without needing to look for long. I wondered if he was watching, if he knew I was leaving.

Stay there, I thought, the words almost like a prayer. Stay safe.

I didn’t say it out loud. I didn’t need to.

Because no matter what this battle cost, no matter what I had to do to win, one thing was certain:

I’d come back.

This time, I wasn’t leaving anything behind.

- - -

The smell of ash and iron clung to the air, mingling with the cries of men and the shrieks of opponents. Fires roared around us, casting wild shadows over the ruined outpost. Bodies lay strewn across the ground - soldiers, all reduced to broken heaps in the chaos. I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword, its edge glinting with fresh blood, and scanned the battlefield for the next threat.

“Push forward!” I shouted over the din, my voice cutting through the noise. “Don’t let those bastards gain an inch!”

The soldiers surged with renewed vigour, steel clashing against the grotesque claws and warped weapons of All For One’s army. They were things barely resembling men - twisted, malformed bodies with glowing eyes and jagged, unnatural limbs. They fought like animals, rabid and relentless, but I wasn’t about to let them get the upper hand.

One lunged at me from the side, its gaping maw snapping inches from my shoulder. I twisted sharply, bringing my blade up in a clean arc. The steel bit deep into its neck, and with a sickening crunch, its head rolled free, hitting the dirt with a wet thud.

“Next,” I muttered, pulling my sword free and stepping over the body.

Another came from behind, its dagger aimed at my spine. I spun, catching its strike on the flat of my blade. The impact jarred my arm, but I held firm, gritting my teeth as I drove the sword forward. The tip pierced its chest, ichor spilling over the blade as it collapsed with a gurgled snarl.

They kept coming, wave after wave, each one faster and more brutal than the last. But I didn’t stop. My blade cut through flesh and bone with unrelenting precision, the weight of it familiar in my hands, like an extension of my own will.

“Shitty Hair!” I barked, catching sight of him through the haze of smoke and fire. He was locked in a vicious struggle with one of the soldiers, his sword lodged in its side. “Where the fuck is he?”

Kirishima drove his blade deeper, forcing the thing to the ground before looking up at me. “Not far!” he called back, his voice rough. “Reports say he’s holding back - probably waiting to make an entrance!”

“Of course he is,” I muttered, scanning the battlefield.

The air shifted then - heavier, colder, charged with something unnatural. The shadows deepened, stretching across the ground like living things. And then I heard it - a low, guttural laugh, echoing from somewhere beyond the flames.

There he was.

All For One stepped into view, his towering form illuminated by the flickering firelight. His mask gleamed, his signature grin etched into its surface a mockery of life. Behind him, the remnants of his forces spread out like a tide of darkness, their glowing eyes fixed on me.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he drawled, his voice a smooth, mocking rumble. “How predictable. Always rushing to the front lines, desperate to prove something.”

I took a step forward, my sword raised, the edge glinting like a promise of violence. “Keep running your mouth, you decrepit bastard,” I said, my voice low and sharp. “Let’s see how chatty you are when I take your fucking head.”

All For One chuckled, spreading his arms wide in mock invitation. “By all means,” he said. “Come and try.”

I didn’t need a second invitation.

I surged forward, my boots pounding against the scorched earth. My sword sliced through the air, aiming for his neck, but his massive saber shot up, catching the blade with a screech of metal on metal. The force of it rattled through my arms, but I didn’t let go.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he sneered, shoving me back with inhuman strength.

I staggered but recovered quickly, circling him. “Don’t worry,” I said, tightening my grip on the hilt. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

The fight began in earnest, a brutal clash of steel and power. I darted in and out of his reach, my blade a blur as it struck at every opening. His movements were slower but devastatingly strong, each swing of his massive arm capable of flattening the soldiers caught in its path.

One of his strikes slammed into the ground beside me, sending up a cloud of dirt and debris. I used the moment to get in close, driving my sword toward his side. The blade bit into his skin, but before I could press the advantage, he lashed out with a backhanded strike. The impact sent me sprawling, the taste of blood sharp in my mouth.

“Persistent,” he said, his voice almost amused. “But persistence alone won’t save you.”

I spat blood onto the ground, wiping my lip with the back of my hand. “Don’t need saving,” I declared, rising to my feet. “Just need you dead.”

I charged again, feinting left before pivoting sharply and aiming for his exposed leg. The sword sliced through the tendons, and he stumbled, the first real sign of weakness. I pressed the attack, my blade carving deep lines into his armour and flesh.

But the bastard wouldn’t go down.

With a snarl, he pushed his own sword against me, the force of it knocking me off my feet. I hit the ground hard, pain flaring through my ribs, but I forced myself up, my grip on the sword steady despite the tremor in my hands.

The fight raged on, the ground beneath us reduced to splinters and ash. My body screamed with every movement, every strike, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

This wasn’t just about the empire.

It was about making sure no one - not All For One, not anyone - thought they could take what was mine.

And if it took every ounce of strength I had to put him in the ground, so be it.

The bastard wasn’t even trying to hide the smugness in his voice. Every word dripped with condescension, a taunt designed to get under my skin. And it was working.

“You’re an amusing opponent, Bakugo,” All For One said, his mask tilting slightly as if he were appraising me. “So full of fire, so... passionate. It’s almost endearing, really.”

I slashed at him, my blade carving a silver arc through the smoke-choked air. He sidestepped with infuriating ease, his massive hand swiping out to counter, but I ducked low, my instincts keeping me just out of reach.

“Stop flapping your mouth and fight,” I snarled, the edge of my sword catching the armoured plate at his side with a shower of sparks.

He chuckled, a deep, hollow sound that set my teeth on edge. “Oh, I am fighting. But I’d hate for you to lose focus. After all, you seem to have so much on your mind.”

The weight of his words pulled me up short for half a heartbeat, but I recovered quickly, lunging forward with ferocity. My sword met his forearm, biting deep into the blackened metal that covered his skin.

“Shut the hell up,” I growled, twisting the blade as I drove it further. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Oh, but I do,” he said, his voice low and almost gleeful. He wrenched his arm free, the force sending me stumbling back. “I know what drives you, Bakugo. What makes you weak.”

Something in his tone made my pulse spike, my hands tightening on the hilt of my sword.

“Pathetic, really,” he continued, his massive form advancing slowly, deliberately. “All this bravado, all this fury, for what? A desperate need to protect what you know you can’t keep.”

The words hit like a gut punch, but I refused to let them show. “Keep talking,” I spat, raising my blade. “It’ll make it more satisfying when I cut that smug grin off your face.”

“Ah,” he said, his voice taking on a mocking lilt. “You’re so predictable. Always so quick to anger. Especially when it concerns him .”

My breath hitched, my grip faltering for the briefest moment.

No. He doesn’t know.

All For One tilted his head, and though I couldn’t see his face behind that twisted mask, I could feel his smile.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, almost as if savouring the moment. “The boy. Izuku, wasn’t it? Such a fragile thing, really. So full of fire, and yet so breakable. Looked for him in Yagi, but it seems like this is where you've got him captured.”

Something in me snapped.

“Don’t you fucking say his name!” I remarked, charging forward with all the force I could muster. My blade lashed out, aiming for his throat, his chest, anywhere I could hurt him. But he blocked each strike with maddening precision, his movements almost lazy as he countered.

“Oh, how precious,” he said, laughing as he deflected my next blow. “Such devotion. Such desperation. It’s almost... tragic.”

I swung again, harder this time, and the tip of my sword caught his shoulder, cutting through the armor and drawing a thin line of dark, viscous blood. He didn’t even flinch.

“You don’t get to talk about him,” my voice low and shaking with fury. “You don’t get to even think about him.”

All For One chuckled again, stepping back slightly as if to appraise me. “Oh, but I’ve done more than think,” he said, his voice almost playful now. “In fact, I’ve taken steps to ensure he’s... well, let’s just say he’ll be quite preoccupied soon enough.”

My blood ran cold, the weight of his words slamming into me like a sledgehammer.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded, my voice sharp and raw.

All For One didn’t answer immediately. He simply tilted his head, his mask catching the light as he spread his arms wide, as if presenting some grand revelation.

“You’re here, Bakugo,” he said, his tone slow and deliberate. “And while you’re so busy playing the hero, my dear protégé has been sent to... collect your little treasure.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath me, the roar of the battlefield fading to a distant hum. My chest tightened, my pulse racing as his words sank in.

No.

“I sent Tomura,” he continued, his voice dripping with malice. “He’s quite good at finding... vulnerable things.”

A cold fury surged through me, hotter and more dangerous than anything I’d ever felt. I charged at him again, my blade slicing through the air with reckless abandon. But this time, he didn’t block. He let me come, his massive hand catching the blade mid-strike.

“Careful, now,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You wouldn’t want to lose focus. After all, time is ticking. And Tomura... well, let’s just say he’s not known for his patience.”

I wrenched my sword free, my breathing ragged, my mind spinning with a thousand possibilities - all of them ending in disaster.

“You’re lying,” I said, but the words sounded weak even to me.

All For One chuckled, stepping back into the shadows. “Am I?” he said, his voice echoing as he disappeared from sight. “Perhaps you should hurry back and see for yourself.”

Izuku. Shigaraki.

I couldn’t let it stand.

I wouldn’t.

“You think I’m fucking scared of you?” my voice cut through the crackling of flames as I closed the distance between us. My blade gleamed with blood, its edge chipped from the countless strikes it had delivered. “You think I’ll let you walk out of here after what you’ve done?”

All For One turned, his monstrous form still cloaked in shadow, and chuckled. “Oh, Bakugo ,” he said, his voice smooth and mocking. “You’re already too late. The wheels are in motion. Even if you kill me, you’ve already lost.”

“Shut the hell up,” I snarled, planting my feet as I raised my sword. The weight of it felt right, heavy with purpose. “You don’t get to die with the last word.”

Without another thought, I charged, the ground trembling beneath my boots as I closed the gap. He raised his massive arm, his blade reaching to intercept me, but I was faster. I ducked low, twisting to avoid the swipe, and drove my blade upward in a sharp, ruthless arc.

The sword caught his side, tearing through the thick armour and carving deep into the flesh beneath. Red, almost tar-like blood gushed from the wound, the stench of it choking the air.

All For One staggered, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he laughed, a guttural sound that grated against my ears. “You think this is enough to stop me?” he said, his voice laced with malice. “I am eternal, Bakugo. You’re nothing but a spark, doomed to burn out.”

“Guess what, asshole?” I said, wrenching the blade free. “Sparks start fucking fires.”

I pivoted sharply, bringing the sword down in a brutal slash across his chest. The blow sent him reeling, his monstrous body collapsing to one knee. But still, he laughed, his mask cracked but unrelenting.

“You’re too late,” he rasped, his voice ragged but defiant. “By the time you return, he’ll already be gone. And you’ll know true loss-”

“ Shut up! ” The roar tore out of me, fuelled by rage and desperation.

I surged forward, the tip of my blade aimed directly at his heart. He raised his arm to block, but I didn’t stop. I drove the sword through his hand, the steel cutting through bone and sinew like butter, and slammed it into his chest with every ounce of strength I had left.

The impact was devastating.

The blade pierced through his armour, through his ribs, and buried itself deep into the cavity of his heart. A sickening crunch echoed through the battlefield as I twisted the hilt, grinding the edges of the sword against the pulsing organ.

His laughter turned into a wet, gurgling choke, crimson bubbling up through the cracks in his mask. His massive body convulsed, his limbs flailing uselessly as the life drained out of him.

“Not so eternal now, huh?” I snarled, leaning in close, my voice dripping with venom. “You don’t get to touch what’s mine. You don’t get to even fucking think about it.”

With one final, brutal twist, I yanked the blade free, the force of it splattering his dark blood across the ground. His body crumpled, collapsing into a lifeless heap at my feet.

The battlefield fell silent, the oppressive weight of his presence lifting like a suffocating fog.

I stood over him, chest heaving, the sword slick with his blood. For a moment, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart, the echoes of his last words still clawing at my mind.

Izuku. I need- I need to-

I sheathed my blade in one swift motion, the urgency crashing over me like a tidal wave.

“Kirishima!” I barked, my voice hoarse but commanding.

Kirishima appeared moments later, his armour battered and smeared with grime. “It’s over,” he said, his voice tinged with relief. “You-”

“We’re done here,” I interrupted, striding toward the nearest horse. “Pull back the troops, secure the borders, and clean up the rest of this shit.”

“What about-”

“I’m going back to the palace.”

Kirishima hesitated, his brow furrowing. “Katsuki, are you sure-”

“I’m not asking,” I snapped, climbing onto the horse and gripping the reins tightly. My blood burned hotter than ever, the image of Shigaraki’s twisted grin flashing in my mind.

I dug my heels into the horse’s sides, the beast surging forward in a blur of motion. The battlefield disappeared behind me, replaced by the dark expanse of the road leading home.

The wind tore at my face, the pounding of hooves drowning out everything else. But I couldn’t shake the fear that gripped me, the cold certainty that All For One’s words weren’t empty threats.

If Shigaraki had so much as touched Izuku - if he’d dared to lay a hand on him - there wouldn’t be a place in this world where he could hide from me.

I’d kill him.

I’d burn everything he’d ever touched to ash.

And I wouldn’t stop until I got Izuku back.

Chapter Text

The castle felt too quiet.

It wasn’t the usual stillness that came with the late hours, the kind that wrapped around the halls like a protective shroud. No, this was different - thicker, heavier, like a storm waiting to break. The quiet scratched at my nerves, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

I sat in my room, Mitsuki perched on the edge of a chair near the fireplace, her hands busy with a half-finished scarf she’d insisted on knitting to pass the time. She hummed softly, a sound meant to soothe, but it did little to settle the unease curling in my chest.

“Don’t look so tense, Izuku,” Mitsuki said without looking up, her tone light but tinged with concern. “Katsuki’s got everything handled out there. You don’t need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

I forced a small smile, though it felt thin and unconvincing. “I know,” I murmured. But the truth was, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way the guards had seemed more on edge than usual, their movements hurried and their whispers hushed.

Something wasn’t right.

A faint noise outside the door made me stiffen, my eyes snapping to the entrance. It was soft, almost imperceptible - a scuff of a boot against stone.

Mitsuki looked up, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“Stay here,” I said quietly, rising from my chair.

The room suddenly felt colder, the shadows along the walls stretching longer than they should. My heart pounded as I stepped closer to the door, my hand hovering over the handle.

And then it happened.

The door burst open with a deafening crack, the force splintering the wood and sending shards flying across the room. Mitsuki screamed, scrambling backward as a figure stepped through the wreckage, his pale, gnarled hand resting casually on the remains of the doorframe.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

It was him.

The man from the marketplace - the one with red eyes and decayed, blue-tinged hair. I’d known something was off about him then, a sense of wrongness that clung to him like a second skin. But now, as his crimson gaze locked onto mine, the full weight of recognition crashed over me.

Tomura Shigaraki. All for One's successor. 

“Hey there,” he said, his voice low and rasping, yet somehow laced with cruel amusement.

I stepped back instinctively, placing myself between him and Mitsuki. “What do you want?” I demanded, my voice steadier than I felt.

He tilted his head, his lips curling into a grotesque approximation of a smile. “What I’ve always wanted,” he said simply, taking a step closer. “His destruction. Well... and you.”

My stomach turned, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. 

“Run,” I said sharply, glancing over my shoulder at Mitsuki. “Hide, now!”

“Izuku—”

“ Go! ” I barked, cutting her off.

Mitsuki hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, her face pale. She darted toward the small door leading to the servant’s passage, disappearing into the shadows just as Shigaraki raised his hand, his fingers flexing.

“Brave,” he murmured, his gaze flicking to where Mitsuki had vanished. “But pointless. I’m not here for her.”

My hands balled into fists at my sides, a futile gesture against someone like him. “What do you want with me?”

He took another step forward, the movement slow and deliberate, like a predator savouring its prey. “I’ve been watching you,” he said, his voice almost conversational. “Ever since the day we crossed paths in the marketplace. You looked like a lost lamb, it was very captivating, really. Before he came and pulled you away; it took me a while to realise who he was.”

My chest tightened at the mention of Katsuki, but I refused to let it show. “Katsuki will kill you for this,” I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.

Shigaraki laughed, a hollow sound that sent shivers down my spine. “That’s the idea,” he said, his voice softening into something almost tender. “But first, I want to watch him burn. And what better way to destroy a king than to take what he treasures most?”

He was closer now, his twisted smile widening as he drank in my reaction.

“Master thinks you mean something to him,” Shigaraki continued, his voice taunting. “And he's right. That’s why you’re perfect. A king’s strength is his people - but his weakness is the one he loves.”

The air felt too thick, the room spinning as his words sank in. My heart raced, panic clawing at the edges of my mind, but I forced myself to stand tall.

“You’re wrong,” I said, though the words felt hollow even to me.

“Am I?” Shigaraki tilted his head, his expression twisting into mock pity. “It’s funny, really. After all he's done, the moment he realises he’s failed you, ” He paused, enjoying the moment. “That’s when he’ll break. That’s when I’ll crush him.”

“You’re insane,” I spat, my voice shaking with anger and fear.

Shigaraki chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Perhaps,” he said. “But that doesn’t change the truth. You don’t belong here, playing pretend as a king’s pet. You belong with me, where no one can hurt you, where no one can take you away.”

My heart pounded in my chest, my thoughts racing as I searched for a way out. But he was blocking the only exit, and there was no telling how far Mitsuki had gotten or if she could even find help in time.”

I took another step back, the cool stone wall pressing against my shoulder blades. “You won’t get away with this,” I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.

Shigaraki smiled, a slow, sinister curl of his lips. “Oh, I already have,” he said. “And by the time your precious king returns, you’ll be long gone.”

Before I could react, he lunged, his gnarled hand reaching out to grab me. I tried to dodge, but he was faster than I’d anticipated. His fingers wrapped around my arm, the cold, dry sensation of his touch making my stomach lurch.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, his voice low and almost soothing. “You’ll be safer with me, Izuku. I promise.”

The world tilted as he pulled me toward the door, his grip firm despite my struggles. I thrashed, kicking and twisting, but it was no use. He was stronger, faster.

“Let me go!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the empty halls.

“No,” he said simply.

Shigaraki’s grip was unrelenting, his fingers cold and unnervingly dry as they dug into my arm. But I wasn’t going to let him drag me away without a fight.

I twisted sharply, planting my feet against the stone floor and yanking my arm back with all the strength I could muster. His grip faltered for a split second, and I used the opportunity to break free, stumbling a few steps back before dropping into a defensive stance.

“Impressive,” Shigaraki murmured, flexing his fingers as if testing their range. “So, the king’s little pet knows how to bite.”

“I’m no one’s pet,” I announced, my muscles coiled like a spring. My heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through my veins as every lesson I’d learned in Yagi’s training halls came rushing back to me.

Shigaraki tilted his head, his crimson eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. “You’re wasting your energy,” he said. “But if you want to play, I’ll oblige.”

He lunged, his speed blinding, but I was ready. I ducked low, his hand swiping just inches above my head, and spun on my heel to deliver a sharp kick to his side. The impact made him stagger slightly, and I pressed the advantage, driving my elbow into his ribs.

Shigaraki hissed, his grin faltering for a moment as he stepped back to regain his footing. “You’ve been trained well,” he admitted, his voice laced with grudging respect. “But you’re out of your depth, Izuku.”

“Then come prove it,” I shot back, my breaths sharp and controlled as I watched his movements like a hawk.

He moved again, faster this time, his hand darting toward my arm. I sidestepped, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and retaliated with a quick jab to his jaw. The blow landed, but it felt like hitting stone - he barely flinched, and his hand lashed out to catch my wrist.

Before he could tighten his grip, I twisted my body, flipping him over my shoulder. He hit the ground hard, but his laughter rang out, grating and full of malice.

“You’re clever,” he said, pushing himself up with an unsettling ease. “But cleverness won’t save you.”

He lunged again, and this time, I wasn’t fast enough. His hand caught my shoulder, slamming me into the wall with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. Pain flared in my back, sharp and immediate, but I didn’t let it slow me down.

I drove my knee up, aiming for his stomach, and felt the satisfying impact as he grunted in surprise. His grip loosened, and I broke free, dropping into a low stance as I tried to catch my breath.

“Fuck,” he said, brushing a hand over his ribs as though dusting off an invisible speck. “Admirable.”

I didn’t respond. Words wouldn’t help me here.

Instead, I rushed forward, feinting to the left before pivoting sharply and delivering a powerful punch to his side. He stumbled, but his hand shot out to grab my wrist, yanking me forward with unnerving strength.

His knee came up, slamming into my stomach, and the impact sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. I gasped, doubling over, but I refused to go down. Using the momentum, I swung my leg in a wide arc, sweeping his feet out from under him.

He fell, but even as he hit the ground, his laughter didn’t stop.

He sprang up faster than I anticipated, his hand darting toward my neck. I leaned back, narrowly avoiding the grasp, and retaliated with a sharp kick to his knee.

The fight continued in a blur of strikes and counters, each of us pushing the other to the brink. My body screamed with every movement, the bruises and cuts adding up, but I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t.

Not when the alternative was letting this monster take me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I saw an opening. Shigaraki overextended on a swipe, his balance shifting just enough for me to exploit. I stepped in, driving my elbow into his sternum with all the force I could muster. He stumbled back, his breath hissing through gritted teeth.

But before I could follow up, his hand shot out, catching me across the jaw. The force sent me sprawling, my head spinning as I hit the ground hard.

Pain flared through my side, sharp and unforgiving, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself up. My vision swam, but I could see Shigaraki standing over me, his expression dark and almost... pleased.

“You fought well,” he said, his voice low and mocking. “But this isn’t a fight you can win.”

I glared up at him, my breath ragged but defiant. “You’ll regret this,” I said, each word laced with venom.

Shigaraki crouched down, his crimson eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. “Oh, Izuku,” he said softly, his hand reaching out to brush my cheek. “I already know I won’t.”

My body screamed in protest as I pushed myself off the ground, my vision swimming. Blood trickled down the side of my face, warm and sticky, but I ignored it. I couldn’t stop. Not now.

Shigaraki towered over me, his red eyes gleaming with amusement as he tilted his head. “Still trying to stand? You’re even more stubborn than I thought.”

I lunged at him, every ounce of my remaining strength pouring into the swing of my fist. He sidestepped effortlessly, his hand darting out to catch my wrist. His grip was like iron, and before I could react, he twisted sharply, forcing me to the ground.

Pain flared through my shoulder as I hit the cold stone floor. Again. I struggled, kicking and twisting, but it was useless. He pressed his hand against my chest, pinning me in place with an almost casual strength.

“Enough,” he said, his voice low and cold.

“No!” I spat, my voice hoarse. “I’m not going with you!”

Shigaraki chuckled, leaning closer. “You don’t have a choice, sweetheart,” he said, his tone almost soothing. “You belong with me, not in this gilded cage that bastard king has built for you.”

I thrashed against him, my movements wild and desperate. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“Oh, but I do,” he murmured, his crimson gaze locking onto mine. “I’ve been watching you for so long. And now, I’ll take you somewhere you’ll finally be away from him . You should be thanking me, really” Then, Shigaraki’s smile twisted into something darker. “And yes, your precious king,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “So bold, so fierce.”

My chest tightened, a cold dread settling over me as his grin widened.

“He’s fighting valiantly out there,” Shigaraki continued, his voice light and almost conversational. “But even the mightiest kings fall eventually. And when he does, it won’t be quick or painless. No, I’ll make sure of that.”

“You’re lying,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.

“Am I?” he said, tilting his head. “The battle rages on as we speak, and Katsuki’s pride will be his downfall. He’s so busy trying to win that he hasn’t even noticed you’re gone yet. And by the time he does, it’ll be too late. He’ll never see you again.”

The weight of his words crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drag me under. I wanted to scream, to claw at him, to do anything to make him stop talking, but my strength was gone.

“Go to hell,” I hissed, my voice weak but defiant.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing against my temple. “Sleep now,” he murmured, and before I could react, something sharp stabbed my neck and a sickening wave of darkness washed over me. My vision blurred, my limbs growing heavy as the world tilted sideways.

The last thing I saw was Shigaraki’s crimson gaze, terrifying, as the shadows swallowed me whole.

Chapter Text

The first thing I noticed was the cold.

It seeped into my skin, biting and sharp, pulling me back to consciousness like a slap. My eyelids felt heavy, and when I finally forced them open, the sight before me was strange and unsettling.

The room was dimly lit, the walls rough and uneven, carved from stone that looked damp in places. The air smelled of mildew and something metallic - blood, perhaps. Chains rattled faintly in the distance, accompanied by murmured voices I couldn’t quite make out.

I sat up slowly, my muscles stiff and aching. My head throbbed with a dull pain, and when I touched my temple, I winced at the tender spot where Shigaraki had grabbed me.

“Where... am I?” I whispered to myself, my voice cracking.

The last thing I remembered was his twisted smile, his gnarled hand reaching out before everything went black. 

That monster.

With the thought came the flood of memories—the fight, his chilling words about Katsuki, the way he’d looked at me like I was nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

Katsuki.

My chest tightened, the worry surging like a wave. Where was he now? Was he still fighting? Did he even know I was gone?

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as guilt revoked at the edges of my mind. Shigaraki had made his intentions clear - he wanted to destroy Katsuki, and I was the weapon he planned to use.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I won’t let him.”

I forced myself to stand, ignoring the dizziness that made the room spin. The space was larger than I’d realised, though no less unsettling. A single heavy door stood at the far end, reinforced with iron bands and flanked by flickering torches.

My eyes scanned the room for anything I could use - a weapon, a tool, even a loose stone. But before I could take a step, the door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside.

He was tall and lanky, his body wrapped in dark clothes that looked frayed at the edges. His skin was pale, almost greyish-green, and his lips were curled into a sneer.

“Look who’s awake,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The king’s little treasure finally graces us with his presence.”

“Who are you?” I asked sharply, my body tensing as I took a cautious step back.

“Call me Spinner,” he replied, his tone mocking as he leaned against the doorframe. “Not that it matters. You won’t be here long enough to care.”

Another figure appeared behind him, this one shorter but no less intimidating. Her blonde hair was tied in messy buns, and her grin was wide and unsettling.

“Toga,” Spinner said without looking back, “don’t crowd him.”

Toga ignored him, bouncing into the room with a gleeful energy that made my stomach turn. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes shining with something far too dangerous to be called curiosity.

“So, you’re the famous Izuku,” she said, tilting her head as she looked me up and down. “I get it now. You’re adorable.”

I took another step back, my back pressing against the cold wall as I tried to keep them both in my line of sight. “What do you want with me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Toga said with a giggle. “We want to keep you here. Shigaraki’s orders.”

“Here?” I echoed, my voice laced with disbelief. “And where is ‘here’ exactly? You can’t just keep me locked up in a dungeon.”

Spinner shrugged, his expression bored. “It’s not about what you want, kid. It’s about what Shigaraki wants. And right now, that’s you.”

I gritted my teeth, my mind racing. If Shigaraki’s plan was to use me against Katsuki, then I had to get out of here. I couldn’t let myself be a pawn in his sick game.

“Fine,” I said, forcing my voice to steady. “Then take me to him. Let’s see what he has to say.”

Toga clapped her hands together, her grin widening. “Oh, I like him. So bold!”

Spinner rolled his eyes. “Bold doesn’t mean smart. Watch him, Toga. I’ll be back.”

With that, he turned and disappeared through the door, leaving me alone with Toga, whose grin hadn’t faded.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she said cheerfully, pulling out a small blade and twirling it between her fingers. “I like you, but I’ll stab you if I have to.”

I forced a tight smile, my mind working furiously as I scanned the room again. If there was a way out, I’d find it.

“Do you always follow his orders?” I asked, trying to keep her talking.

Toga shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Shigaraki’s got a vision, you know? And I like his style. Plus, it’s fun.”

“Fun,” I muttered under my breath, my fists clenching at my sides.

Toga’s eyes sparkled, her grin turning mischievous. “What about you? Think you’ll try to run?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Because the truth was, I already had.

While she’d been talking, I’d spotted a small crack near the door. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to break down.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” I said, meeting her gaze with a defiance I didn’t entirely feel.

Toga laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “I like you, Izuku,” she said again, her voice sing-song. “Let’s hope you stay interesting.”

I didn’t reply. My focus was already on the door, on the plan forming in my mind.

I didn’t know where I was or how far Shigaraki had taken me, but one thing was certain.

I had to escape.

I stayed seated on the cot, my mind working furiously as I watched Toga. She was relaxed, leaning against the wall, her knife spinning effortlessly between her fingers like a deadly toy. Her expression was cheerful, almost carefree, but I wasn’t naive enough to believe she wasn’t paying attention.

She’s not invincible, I thought, studying her movements, the way her eyes flickered to the door every so often. Her confidence could be her weakness, her belief that I was too broken or too stupid to try again.

“Still brooding, huh?” Toga said, her voice light as she glanced at me. “You know, this’ll be a lot easier if you just accept it. Shigaraki has big plans for you.”

I didn’t answer, keeping my expression blank as I shifted slightly, testing the weight of the cot beneath me. It was bolted to the floor, but the edges were sharp, the metal frame bent in places. If I could just- 

“You’re not much fun, are you?” Toga sighed, twirling her knife before slipping it into her belt.

Now.

I sprang up, grabbing the edge of the cot with both hands and yanking with all my strength. The metal groaned, the frame bending further as the bolts strained against the floor. Toga straightened immediately, her hand darting to the knife at her belt, but I was faster.

Using the cot as a makeshift shield, I charged at her, the heavy frame forcing her back as she scrambled to dodge. The moment she stumbled, I let go of the cot and lunged, grabbing the knife from her belt.

“Hey!” she shouted, her cheerful demeanour replaced by annoyance.

I didn’t waste time. Spinning the knife in my hand, I threw it with precision at the torches by the door. The blade struck one of the iron brackets, dislodging it and sending the torch clattering to the floor. The flames licked at the edge of the wooden door, smoke curling upward almost immediately.

Toga’s eyes widened, her focus split between me and the growing fire. “Oh, you’re clever,” she said, her grin returning. “But you’re not getting out that easily!”

She darted toward me, faster than I expected, but I grabbed the loose torch from the ground and swung it wide. The flames forced her to halt, her eyes narrowing as she sized me up.

“You’re full of surprises,” she said, her tone almost admiring.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I shot back, the adrenaline surging as I moved toward the door.

The smoke was thick now, filling the room and obscuring her movements. I slammed my shoulder into the weakened door, feeling it splinter under the force. Behind me, Toga’s laughter rang out, wild and unsettling.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she called, her voice sing-song. “Tomura's not going to like this!”

I ignored her, throwing my weight against the door again. It gave way with a deafening crack, and I stumbled into the corridor beyond, my lungs burning from the smoke.

I ran.

The hallway was long and dimly lit, the stone walls rough and uneven. My mind raced, every instinct screaming at me to move faster, to get as far away as possible before Toga or anyone else caught up.

But as I turned a corner, a figure stepped into my path, his silhouette unmistakable.

Spinner.

His lizard-like eyes gleamed in the low light, his sword already drawn as he blocked my way. “Going somewhere, kid?” he drawled, his voice laced with mockery.

I skidded to a halt, my heart pounding as I looked around for another route, another option. But the corridor was narrow, and Spinner’s bulk filled the space completely.

“Move,” I said, my voice low and steady despite the panic clawing at my chest.

Spinner grinned. “Make me.”

I clenched my fists, my body coiled to strike, but before I could move, a sharp pain erupted in my side.

Toga’s knife.

I staggered, my hand flying to my side as I turned to see her standing behind me, her knife gleaming with fresh blood.

“Aw,” she said, pouting. “You almost made it.”

My legs buckled, the strength draining from my body as the pain spread like fire. I fell to my knees, my vision blurring as Toga crouched in front of me, her grin wide and unhinged.

“You’re fun,” she said, her voice almost sing-song. “But you should’ve known better. Shigaraki always gets what he wants.”

I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. My vision darkened further as she reached out, her fingers brushing against my cheek.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured, her tone almost soothing. “He’s going to love seeing you like this.”

The world was slipping away, the edges of my vision fading to black as the pain in my side burned hot and relentless. Toga’s voice was distant now, her laughter echoing somewhere in the dark, mingling with the pounding in my ears.

I tried to hold on - to fight against the pull of unconsciousness - but my body betrayed me, heavy and weak as I crumpled to the cold stone floor.

And then, through the haze, a voice rose above the chaos.

"You’ll be safe with me, always."

Katsuki.

His words rang in my mind, cutting through the darkness like a spark. I clung to them as desperately as I could.

"I’ll always come for you."

These words… where had I…? The blackness closed in further, but the memory refused to let go. Katsuki’s voice, his crimson eyes - they weren’t just recent memories. They went deeper, stretching back further than I could explain.

And then it hit me.

"You will, when the time is right."

His cryptic words from before slammed into me like a blow, the weight of them dragging me into a memory I hadn’t realised I’d buried.

It was years ago - so many years that the details were hazy at first. I was just a child, small and wide-eyed, with too much curiosity and not enough sense to stay out of trouble.

The forest had been thick and dark, the towering trees blocking out most of the sunlight. I remembered the cold dampness of the earth beneath my feet, the way the shadows seemed to move and shift as I wandered deeper, clutching the small basket my mother had sent me out with.

And then I’d heard it.

A cry - sharp and desperate.

My chest had tightened, my grip on the basket tightening as I followed the sound. I remembered calling out, my small voice trembling but insistent.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

The crying had stopped abruptly, replaced by a tense silence. I’d almost thought I’d imagined it when a rustling in the bushes caught my attention.

And then I saw him.

A boy, not much older than me, slumped against the base of a tree. His blond hair was matted with dirt and blood, and his face was streaked with tears. He was clutching his knee, his small hands trembling as he looked up at me with wide, panicked eyes.

“You’re hurt!” I’d exclaimed, dropping the basket and running to him without hesitation.

“Get away!” he’d shouted, his voice hoarse. “I don’t need help!”

“You’re bleeding,” I’d said firmly, ignoring his protests as I knelt beside him. “You can’t just sit here. Let me help.”

He’d glared at me, his crimson eyes blazing with anger - and fear. But he didn’t push me away as I took a closer look at his injury.

“Who are you?” he’d demanded, his voice softening slightly.

“Izuku,” I’d replied. “What about you?”

He’d hesitated, his small fists clenching as though even his name was a secret worth guarding.

“Katsuki,” he’d muttered eventually, his voice barely above a whisper.

The memory shifted, blurring like smoke, and suddenly I was back in my house. My mother’s worried face hovered above me as she examined 'Katsuki’s' injury, her hands gentle but efficient as she cleaned the wound.

“Where did you find him, Izuku?” she’d asked, her tone filled with concern.

“In the woods,” I’d said simply, watching as Katsuki winced under her touch.

“Um… Thank you,” he’d muttered after a moment, his voice begrudging but sincere.

I remembered smiling at him, the warmth of his gratitude settling over me like a blanket. Even then, he’d been prickly and defensive, but there had been something else beneath it - something softer, something real.

The memory faded, dissolving into the dark once more. But Katsuki’s words from the present echoed in my mind, sharp and clear.

"You will, when the time is right."

The meaning clicked into place, the realisation crashing over me like a wave. He’d known - he’d always known. That boy from the forest, the one I’d found and helped all those years ago, hadn’t just been any boy.

He’d been him.

Katsuki.

And I... I had forgotten.

The weight of the truth pressed down on me, suffocating and bittersweet. He hadn’t forgotten. Not for a moment.

But I  had.

The thought twisted in my chest as the darkness pulled me under completely, dragging me into the abyss.

The days following Katsuki’s arrival passed in a blur. He wasn’t just another boy to me anymore - he was Katsuki, the one I’d found bleeding and scared in the woods, and now he was staying with us. For how long, I didn’t know, but I didn’t mind. Having him here felt... right.

“Katsuki, sit still!” I huffed, holding a damp cloth as he squirmed on the stool in our small kitchen.

“I am sitting still,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re just bad at this.”

“I’m not bad at this,” I shot back, puffing out my cheeks. “You’re bad at letting people help you.”

He glared at me, but it didn’t have the same bite it had when we first met. “Tch. Just hurry up.”

I rolled my eyes and dabbed at the small scratch on his cheek. “You act like I’m gonna hurt you.”

“You’re annoying,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his voice.

“And you’re prickly,” I retorted, trying not to smile.

His lips twitched, and for a moment, I thought he might actually smile back. But instead, he turned his head away, his ears tinged pink.

“Katsuki’s too hard to say,” I said suddenly, pulling back and tossing the cloth into the basin of water.

“What?” he asked, looking at me with a raised brow.

“Your name,” I explained, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “It’s long and... sharp.”

“It’s my name,” he said, frowning.

“Yeah, but I think I’ll call you Kacchan instead,” I said decisively, nodding to myself.

His eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening as though to argue, but no words came out. After a long pause, he crossed his arms and looked away. “Fine. But only you.”

I grinned. “Deal.”

The three weeks that followed were some of the best of my life. Kacchan became part of our little world, filling the quiet corners of our home with his fiery presence. He wasn’t easy to get along with - he was stubborn, proud, and quick to snap - but there was something about him that felt safe.

We spent our days exploring the fields behind our house, climbing trees and chasing each other through the tall grass. At night, we’d sit by the fire, my mom telling stories while Kacchan listened quietly, his eyes softening as he warmed his hands by the flames.

He never talked about where he came from or how he’d ended up in the woods that day, but I didn’t press him. I could see it in his eyes sometimes, the way they’d darken when he thought no one was looking. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t something he wanted to share yet.

And that was okay.

One evening, we sat on the hill behind my house, the sun painting the sky in shades of gold and rose. The air was cool and carried the faint scent of wildflowers, the kind that dotted the fields around us.

“You like sunsets?” I asked, leaning back on my hands as I watched him.

“They’re fine,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

I smiled. “I think they’re pretty.”

Kacchan didn’t respond, but his expression softened as the light reflected in his crimson eyes.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his tone quieter than usual. “What else do you like?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” he grumbled, fiddling with a blade of grass. “What do you like? Besides sunsets.”

I blinked, surprised by the question. “Well... I like roses,” I said thoughtfully.

“Roses?” he repeated, giving me a sideways look. “Why?”

“They’re nice, they smell good…” I said simply, my cheeks warming under his scrutiny. “And they remind me of you.”

Kacchan huffed but didn’t argue. “What else?”

“I like writing,” I added, feeling a small smile tug at my lips. “Stories, mostly. It’s fun to make things up.”

“Hmph.” He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “That’s weird.”

“Hey!” I said, laughing despite myself.

He rolled his eyes, but I caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The sun dipped lower, and the warmth of the day faded into the cool embrace of evening. I stared out at the horizon, my thoughts drifting as Kacchan sat beside me, his presence steady and grounding.

And then, without thinking, the words spilled out: “I’m gonna marry you when I grow up.”

Kacchan froze, his head snapping toward me so fast I thought he might get whiplash. “What?”

I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “I said I’m gonna marry you.”

“Why the hell would you say that?” he asked, his face turning red.

“Because Mom says you marry the one you wanna spend your entire life with,” I replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

His mouth opened, then closed, his cheeks flushing even darker. “That’s... stupid.”

“It’s not stupid!” I said, laughing at his reaction.

He scowled, shoving me lightly but not enough to hurt. “You’re stupid.”

“And you’re prickly,” I shot back, grinning.

For a moment, Kacchan just stared at me, his usual scowl softening into something uncharacteristically hesitant. His crimson eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn’t quite place - he looked almost shy. Then, as if realising he’d let his guard slip, he looked away sharply, muttering under his breath.

“What was that?” I teased, leaning closer, my grin widening.

“Nothing!” he snapped, shoving me back with enough force to make me stumble slightly. But even as he turned his head further away, I caught it - his ears were a brilliant shade of red.

I couldn’t help it - I laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that rang out across the quiet field. “You’re so funny, Kacchan.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, crossing his arms and avoiding my gaze. “Don’t get used to it.”

His words carried their usual bite, but the way his shoulders hunched and his chin dipped ever so slightly betrayed something softer beneath the gruffness.

We let the conversation fade after that, falling into a companionable silence. The golden light of the setting sun spilled across the field, painting the grass in shades of amber and gold. Long shadows stretched lazily across the ground, and the breeze carried with it the faint rustle of the wildflowers swaying around us.

I leaned back on my hands, tilting my face toward the horizon as the sun dipped lower and lower, its glow softening into hues of pink and orange. The moment felt suspended in time, the kind of stillness that makes you wish it could last forever.

For just a moment, as the sky melted into dusk, everything felt perfect.

“Izuku?”

His voice broke through the quiet, softer than I expected.

“Hm?” I hummed in response, not looking away from the sky.

“Promise me… you’ll never leave me.”

The rawness in his tone made me glance over at him, startled. His face was turned toward the horizon, but his fists were clenched tightly in his lap, knuckles pale. It was rare to hear Kacchan sound so unsure.

I grinned at him, the answer coming as naturally as breathing. “I’ll never leave you, Kacchan.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, though his gaze remained fixed on the fading sunlight. “Okay,” he said, almost to himself. Then, after a beat, his voice grew firmer. “In return… I’ll keep you safe.”

“Okay!” I chirped, the simplicity of the promise making it feel unshakable.

“You’ll be safe with me ,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less resolute. His crimson eyes met mine for just a moment, burning with a feeling that felt far too intense for his small frame. “Always. I’ll always come for you .”

The weight of his words settled over me, but instead of feeling heavy, it felt warm - comforting, like a blanket on a cold night.

“Always,” I echoed softly, my grin softening into something more sincere.

For a moment, there was nothing else - just us, the fading sun, and the quiet promise that bound us together.

Then, the memory shifted again. The woods are now peaceful, the kind of stillness that makes it easy to lose yourself in thought. I stand in a small clearing, my arms full of branches and bark, each one carefully chosen. I picked only the strongest ones for Kacchan. He always insisted on making the best barriers when we played heroes.

A soft breeze rustles the trees, and the golden light of the setting sun filters through the leaves, casting long shadows on the forest floor. My chest feels warm with anticipation. I can already picture his face when I hand him this pile. He’ll probably scoff and act like it’s no big deal - like it’s nothing at all. But deep down, I’ll know he’s glad. He always is. That’s how Kacchan is.

The path back to the house feels longer than usual, but my legs move quickly, eager to get home. The sound of cicadas fills the air, their rhythmic buzz blending with the crunch of my footsteps on the dirt trail. As I near the house, I notice something strange.

The air feels… heavier.

It’s subtle at first, just a faint unease prickling at the back of my neck. Then I notice the stillness. The cicadas have gone quiet. The breeze is gone too, leaving the air unnaturally still and suffocating. A metallic scent wafts toward me, faint but unmistakable.

I stop in my tracks, my arms trembling as the branches fall to the ground with a dull thud .

That’s when I see it.

Blood.

Splattered across the walls of our house, dripping from the doorframe. It streaks across the ground in jagged patterns, leading to the slightly ajar front door. My heart seizes in my chest, and my stomach twists into knots.

“No…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. My tiny feet feel like they’re sinking into the earth, refusing to move, but the sight before me pulls me forward. Step by step, I approach the door. Each step feels heavier than the last, my legs trembling beneath me.

The metallic smell grows stronger, sharp and overwhelming, making me gag. My breath comes in shallow gasps. The door creaks as I push it open further, the sound echoing in the eerie silence.

And then I see her.

Mom.

Her body - or what’s left of it - lies in pieces on the threshold. Her severed arm stretches out toward me, fingers still curled around a bloodied kitchen towel. Her face… her eyes… they’re frozen wide open, staring directly at me. They’re empty, lifeless, but they seem to scream.

“Mom!” I choke out, my voice cracking as I collapse to my knees. My hands hover uselessly in the air, shaking uncontrollably. Tears blur my vision, but they can’t block out the horrifying image before me.

I can’t look away.

The blood pools around her, dark and sticky, staining the floorboards and soaking into the ground outside. My hands clutch at my hair as my mind races. What happened? Why is this happening?

My breath catches in my throat as a single thought breaks through the haze of terror.

Kacchan.

“Kacchan!” I scream, scrambling to my feet. My legs are weak and unsteady, but I force them to move. I stumble through the doorway, slipping on the blood-slick floor. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat louder than the last as I push past overturned furniture and crimson stains.

The house is unrecognisable. The furniture is shattered, pictures torn from the walls, glass scattered across the floor. Every surface is smeared with blood, as if someone painted the walls with it. The metallic tang in the air is overwhelming, making me dizzy.

I burst into the living room, the door banging against the wall as I throw it open.

“Kacchan!”

My voice echoes in the empty space. And then I see him.

He’s lying on the ground in the middle of the room, his golden hair matted with blood. His small body is still, eerily still. A deep, jagged wound runs across his stomach and the side of his face, and one of his arms is bent at an unnatural angle. His fingers are outstretched, as if he had been crawling toward something - or someone.

“No…” The word falls from my lips in a broken whisper.

I rush to his side, dropping to my knees so hard that pain shoots up my legs, but I barely notice. My hands shake as I reach out to him, hovering over his body, unsure where to touch. I’m terrified that if I move him, he’ll…

“Kacchan…” I sob, my voice raw as I try to wipe the blood off the wound marring his cheek to clearly see his eyes. My other hand finally resting on his shoulders, shaking him gently at first, then harder. “Kacchan! Wake up! Please, wake up!”

His head lolls to the side, limp and lifeless. His face pale, his lips slightly parted. He doesn’t move.

My screams tear through the silence as I clutch at his body, shaking him, begging him to open his eyes. “No, no, no! Don’t leave me! Kacchan!”

Then it happens.

A sharp, blinding pain explodes at the back of my head. The world spins violently, and I collapse forward onto the floor. My hands instinctively reach for the source of the pain, feeling something warm and wet trickling down the back of my neck.

I try to lift my head, but my vision blurs. Black spots dance across my eyes, growing larger and larger until they swallow everything.

The last thing I see is Kacchan’s lifeless face. His empty, dull face.

I reach out to him, my fingers brushing against his bloodied hand.

And then, darkness.

Chapter Text

I woke with a sharp gasp, my chest heaving as I scrambled upright. The room around me was dark, the heavy air pressing down like a suffocating weight. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as fragments of the dream - no, the memory - clung stubbornly to the edges of my consciousness.

Katsuki.

My hands trembled as I gripped the thin blanket beneath me, the fabric twisting between my fingers. Images from the dream flashed behind my eyes: the woods, the boy with the wild blond hair and sharp crimson eyes, the blood staining his knee as I’d crouched beside him.

Kacchan.

The name slipped through my mind like a whisper, familiar and intimate in a way that made my chest ache.

He’d been waiting.

Waiting for me to remember, to connect the pieces, to realise what we’d meant to each other before life had swept us in separate directions.

I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, my breath shaky as I stared into the shadows. A strange mix of emotions churned within me - anger, confusion, guilt, and something softer, something warmer.

Why hadn’t he told me? Why had he kept this to himself while I struggled to make sense of our connection?

But deep down, I already knew the answer. Katsuki wasn’t the type to lay his feelings bare. He was guarded, protective, and fiercely independent. He hadn’t wanted to force the memory on me - he’d wanted me to find it myself.

And now I had.

I swung my legs over the side of the cot, my bare feet brushing against the cold stone floor as I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. My head throbbed, my mind racing as the details of the memory sharpened.

I could see it all so clearly now: the way Katsuki had glared at me when I’d insisted on helping him, the begrudging thanks he’d muttered when my mother had treated his wound, the way he’d softened - just a little - when I’d called him Kacchan for the first time.

And then, the promise.

"I’m gonna marry you when I grow up."

My own words from so long ago echoed in my mind, spoken with the innocent conviction of a child. I’d said it because I’d believed it - because, even then, some part of me had known that Katsuki was important to me.

And now, years later, here we were.

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. Fate had a twisted sense of humour, didn’t it?

But as much as the revelation shook me, it also steadied me. The connection I’d been searching for, the missing piece of the puzzle - it was finally clear.

Katsuki hadn’t just chosen me as a consort, hadn’t just decided to keep me out of some possessive whim. He’d chosen me because, in his own way, he’d already made that promise too.

And despite everything - the chaos, the anger, the fear - I couldn’t deny the truth.

A part of me had always belonged to him.

The days blurred together, one bleeding into the next as the weeks dragged on. Time moved differently here, in this cold, oppressive place. I’d lost track of how many sunrises I’d missed, how many times I’d stared at the same stone walls, willing them to crumble.

A month.

I’d been here for a month, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it. But I wasn’t going to break. Not here, not for them.

Shigaraki had left me mostly alone after the first week, content to let his lackeys monitor me while he busied himself with whatever plans filled his twisted mind. Occasionally, Toga or Spinner would drop by, their presence unsettling but not as suffocating as his. I took advantage of their visits, studying their movements, their routines, their weaknesses.

Escape wasn’t just a hope anymore - it was a necessity.

And so, I planned.

I spent the first week observing.

Every guard’s shift change, every creak in the floorboards, every flicker of the torches - they became pieces of a puzzle. The guards were lax, confident in the strength of the cell door and the threat of Shigaraki’s wrath. But confidence bred carelessness.

Toga often chatted with them when she wasn’t supposed to, lingering by the door and twirling her knife as she made jokes about me. Spinner was more focused, his eyes scanning the room with dangerous meticulousness, but even he had a pattern - he’d always pause by the far wall, leaning against the same spot as if it were habit.

The guards rotated every eight hours, their replacements arriving with the same bored expressions. They rarely spoke, and when they did, it was brief - grumbles about food, complaints about Shigaraki’s temper.

But the most important detail came by accident.

One evening, as I lay on the cot feigning sleep, I overheard Toga’s voice through the crack under the door. She was arguing with Spinner about the storage room down the hall.

“I don’t care if it’s cramped!” she hissed. “I need to put my stuff somewhere!”

“Then find somewhere else,” Spinner shot back. “It’s full of supplies. Shigaraki doesn’t want you messing with it.”

Supplies. That meant tools. Weapons.

By the second week, I started testing the boundaries.

I faked weakness, letting my shoulders slump and my movements drag as I shuffled around the cell. The guards seemed to relax further, their watchful gazes softening into bored indifference. When Toga visited, I didn’t rise to her taunts, pretending to be too exhausted to care.

But at night, when the torches burned low and the castle fell into an eerie silence, I worked.

The cot’s metal frame had been a blessing in disguise. I’d discovered early on that the edges of the slats could be pried loose, leaving sharp, jagged pieces of metal. It took time and patience, but by the end of the week, I’d fashioned two crude but sturdy tools - one shaped like a wedge, the other like a hook.

I hid them beneath the thin mattress, wrapping them in scraps of fabric torn from the cot’s cover. They weren’t much, but they were enough.

By the third week, my plan began to take shape.

The storage room was key. If I could reach it, I might find something useful - tools, weapons, even just a better understanding of the layout. But getting there meant slipping past the guards.

Spinner’s routine was my opportunity. Every time he leaned against that far wall, his focus would waver, his posture relaxing as if the weight of his sword was too much to bear. The door would be unguarded for just a few seconds.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

I tested the cell door during the quiet hours, using the wedge to work at the hinges. They were rusted and worn, but they held firm under the strain. The hook, however, proved more useful. With it, I managed to loosen the bolts on the locking mechanism, the metal grinding quietly as I worked.

By the fourth week, I was ready.

Tonight was the night.

Every detail of my plan had been tested, every step rehearsed in my mind a hundred times over. The tools I’d crafted were tucked securely into the folds of my clothing, their weight a comforting reminder that I wasn’t entirely powerless.

I sat on the edge of the cot, my heart pounding as I waited for the shift change. The faint sound of boots against stone echoed down the corridor, signalling the arrival of the night guards.

Spinner walked by first, muttering under his breath about the long hours. The new guard - a stocky man I didn’t recognise - gave a tired nod and leaned against the wall. The torches flickered, casting long shadows that danced across the damp stone.

This was it.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. My hands trembled slightly, but I clenched them into fists, forcing the nerves away.

Focus, Izuku.

When the guard’s attention drifted, I moved.

The hook slid easily into the lock, twisting with a quiet click. I pushed the door open just enough to slip through, my bare feet silent against the cold floor. The storage room was nearby, and I made my way there quickly, retrieving the rope, dagger, and map I’d hidden earlier.

The map was crude but clear enough, showing a path through the lower levels and out to the castle’s outer walls. I traced the route with my finger, committing it to memory before tucking it into my pocket.

The next part was trickier.

The outer walls were heavily guarded, their patrols rotating every fifteen minutes. I had to time it perfectly, slipping through the shadows while the guards were distracted. My pulse thundered in my ears as I pressed myself against the cold stone, waiting for the patrol to pass.

“Come on,” I whispered under my breath, my grip tightening on the rope.

The guards moved past, their footsteps fading into the distance. I darted forward, the shadows swallowing me as I climbed the narrow staircase that led to the battlements.

The wind hit me like a slap, cold and biting as I emerged into the open air. The moon hung low in the sky, its silver light illuminating the sprawling castle grounds below.

The descent was harrowing.

I tied the rope securely to the edge of the battlement, my hands trembling as I tested its strength. Then, with one last glance over my shoulder, I lowered myself over the edge.

The rough fibers of the rope bit into my palms, the strain burning my muscles as I descended. My feet scrambled for purchase against the slick stone, the faint clinking of the rope echoing in the stillness.

Halfway down, a shout rang out from above.

“There! On the wall!”

My heart dropped.

I looked up, catching the glint of armor as one of the guards leaned over the edge, pointing directly at me.

“Move faster,” I whispered to myself, sliding down the rope as quickly as I dared.

Arrows whistled past, one striking the stone just inches from my hand. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the sharp pain as a splinter of rock cut into my cheek. The ground came into view, and I let go of the rope, dropping the last few feet and landing in a crouch.

The shouts grew louder as the guards scrambled to follow, but I didn’t wait to see how close they were. I bolted across the open field, the tall grass whispering against my legs as I ran. The castle loomed behind me, its towering spires casting long shadows in the moonlight.

Freedom stretched out before me, but my chest tightened as a single thought took hold: Where do I go now?

The night stretched out before me, quiet except for the distant shouts from the castle. My lungs burned from the cold air and the relentless pace I’d kept, but I slowed now, standing at the edge of the riverbank, torn between two worlds.

The Yagi Empire wasn’t far - if I followed the river, I could be there by morning. My friends would be waiting for me, worried and frantic after weeks of silence. They’d welcome me back, no questions asked, ready to pick up the pieces and continue the fight.

But then... there was Katsuki.

My heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, the way his crimson eyes would narrow in frustration when he didn’t have the right words to express himself, the rare softness in his voice when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

"You’ll be safe with me, always."

His words played over and over in my mind, a mantra that had once made me feel invincible. Katsuki was stubborn, brash, and terrifyingly protective - but he’d never lied to me. Not once.

I bit my lip, the memory of our childhood promise washing over me. I’d told him I’d marry him, because that was what love meant to me then - innocent, simple, and pure. And even now, after everything, that promise hadn’t lost its weight.

I still love him, I realised, the thought hitting me. It wasn’t the same love of a child’s innocence, but something deeper, forged by the fire of everything we’d been through.

And I had to go to him.

The decision lifted a weight off my chest, and I turned toward the faint glow of the Bakugo castle on the horizon. I took a step forward, then another, the cold grass crunching softly under my feet.

But before I could move further, the air shifted.

A chill ran down my spine as a shadow emerged from the trees ahead, stepping into the moonlight with slow, deliberate movements. My breath hitched, my stomach dropping like a stone.

“Going somewhere?”

Shigaraki’s voice was amused, as his crimson eyes fixed on me.

I froze, my pulse roaring in my ears as he stepped closer, his movements unhurried but filled with purpose.

“How?” I managed to choke out, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.

“You’re predictable,” he said simply, his twisted smile widening. “I knew you’d try to run. It was just a matter of waiting.”

My fists clenched at my sides, the cool weight of the dagger in my pocket grounding me. “I’m not going back with you,” I said, forcing steel into my voice.

Shigaraki tilted his head, his pale blue hair falling across his face. “Oh, Izuku,” he said softly, his tone almost pitying. “You don’t have a choice.”

I lunged, drawing the dagger in one swift motion. The blade gleamed in the moonlight as I swung it toward him, aiming for his shoulder.

But fate hates me. 

It hates me so, so, much.

He dodged easily, his gnarled hand lashing out to grab my wrist. The dagger clattered to the ground as his grip tightened, the dry, cold sensation of his touch sending a wave of nausea through me.

“Feisty,” he murmured, his voice almost admiring. “It’s no wonder he likes you so much.”

“Let me go!” I resisted, twisting against his hold.

Shigaraki’s grin widened, his crimson eyes gleaming with malice. “Why would I do that?” he asked, his tone mocking. “You’re far too valuable to let go now.”

I thrashed, kicking and clawing at him, but his grip was unyielding. With a sharp yank, he pulled me toward him, his other hand coming up to grip my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“You think you can save him, don’t you?” he asked, his voice taunting. “Your precious king. But here’s the truth, Izuku - he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t know anything about him!” I shouted, my voice raw with desperation.

Shigaraki chuckled, the sound cold and empty. “Oh, but I do,” he said, his lips curling into a sinister smile. “He’s weak. And by the time I’m done with him, he’ll be nothing but a memory.”

The words hit me like a blow, but I refused to let them sink in. “You’re wrong,” I said fiercely, my voice trembling but defiant.

“Am I?” he asked, tilting his head. “You’ll see soon enough. But for now...”

He leaned closer, his breath cold against my ear. “You’re coming back with me.”

No. No. No. I can’t go back in there. I need–  

I thrashed again, but it was no use. His hand moved to my temple, and I felt a strange, numbing sensation spread through me. My vision blurred, the edges of the world turning dark as my body grew heavy.

“No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

But just before any hope I had left evaporated: A loud explosion goes off.

That’s… the signature of the Bakugo Empire.

He’s here.

Katsuki’s here.

The explosion tore through the air like a war cry, a deafening thunderclap that shook the ground beneath my feet. The force of it sent dirt and debris flying, and flames erupted in the distance, bathing the dark forest in an infernal glow.

The heat hit me like a wave, licking at the back of my neck as I stumbled forward, my breath catching. The reverberation rattled through my chest, leaving my heartbeat wild and uneven.

“Katsuki,” I whispered, his name barely audible over the chaos.

Shigaraki froze beside me, his crimson eyes narrowing as he turned toward the source of the eruption. The confidence that had painted his features moments before began to crack, giving way to something darker.

“Always so fucking loud,” he muttered, venom dripping from his voice. His grip on my arm tightened, his fingers biting into my skin as if anchoring himself to me. “Fuck.”

Another explosion ripped through the forest, closer this time. The heat burned hotter, the air thick with ash and smoke as the ground trembled beneath us. The trees nearest to the blast splintered and fell, their branches ablaze as firelight consumed the shadows.

Shigaraki’s lips curled upwards as he yanked me roughly forward. “He doesn’t know when to quit,” he growled, his tone a mix of annoyance and unease.

And then, cutting through the roaring flames and the chaos of destruction, came the voice.

“KIRISHIMA! CLEAR THE AREA!”

It wasn’t just a command - it was a snarl, firm and ferocious, carrying with it the weight of unrelenting fury.

I felt my knees weaken, relief crashing over me so hard I nearly fell. “Katsuki,” I breathed, tears stinging my eyes.

But Shigaraki only laughed, sharp and bitter, his lips twisting into a grotesque grin. “You really think he’ll save you?” he hissed, dragging me closer. “He’s too late. You’re already mine.”

Another explosion erupted, and this time the shockwave knocked us both off balance. I stumbled, my arm slipping from Shigaraki’s grip for a split second, and when I looked up, I saw him.

Katsuki Bakugo.

He emerged from the inferno like a demon born of flame, his blond hair wild and windswept, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. Smoke and ash clung to him like a second skin, his black armor streaked with blood and soot. In his hands, he gripped his sword tightly, the blade gleaming with the reflected light of the fire.

There was nothing human in his expression - no trace of hesitation or mercy. He looked feral, unhinged, a predator whose prey had nowhere left to run.

“You’re...,” I whispered again, the sound catching in my throat as his eyes locked onto me.

His lips twisted, and his voice rang out, harsh and venomous. “I won’t repeat myself, fucker, so listen carefully: get your filthy hands off him.”

Shigaraki stiffened, his grip on me tightening as Katsuki advanced. The flames raged behind him, his shadow stretching long and jagged across the forest floor.

“You’re a fool,” Shigaraki spat, his voice faltering despite his bravado. “You’d mindlessly scorch everything down for him, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d scorch you down,” Katsuki sneered, his voice guttural. His blade tilted, catching the light as he levelled it toward Shigaraki. “You don’t get to touch what’s mine.”

Shigaraki scorned, pulling me closer like a shield. “I wonder,” he taunted, his voice a venomous whisper, “what will break first? You, or him?”

Katsuki didn’t respond with words.

He lunged.

And so did Shigaraki, just as Toga, Spinner and some others circled Katsuki.

Shigaraki’s movements were frantic now, his grip bruising as he dragged me further into the forest. The skeletal trees seemed to warp in the flickering light of the flames, their shadows clawing like spectres as if urging me to escape.
“Don’t!” I screamed, thrashing in his iron grip.

“Shut it!” Shigaraki hissed, his voice taut with irritation. “You want him to find us? Because I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

His words were meant to scare me, but they only fuelled my desperation. Katsuki was coming – I could feel it, like the storm before lightning strikes.

Another explosion rocked the ground, throwing us both off balance. Shigaraki cursed under his breath, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder. His crimson eyes widened, locking onto something tearing through the smoke.

Or someone.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his grip tightening. “Persistent bastard.”

Before I could react, the air seemed to shatter with the force of his arrival. Katsuki stormed out of the flames, his body a blur of motion. His face was twisted into something almost unrecognisable - a feral snarl that bared teeth like a predator’s. His crimson eyes glowed with a maddened intensity, reflecting the flames that licked hungrily at the forest.

“SHIGARAKI!” Katsuki’s voice erupted like thunder, guttural and raw.

Shigaraki yanked me forward, his gnarled fingers clawing at my throat. His grin was sharp and manic, his voice a venomous hiss. “Take one more step, and I-”

The words died in his throat as Katsuki sprung.

The ferocity of his attack was inhuman. His blade didn’t just swing – it howled through the air, ripping through Shigaraki’s arm in a flash of steel and blood. The severed limb fell to the ground with a sickening thud, and Shigaraki let out a guttural scream as he released me.

I hit the ground hard, gasping for air as the world swam around me. Through my blurred vision, I saw Katsuki close the distance with a relentless fury. His sword dripped with blood, his movements wild, almost beast-like.

“Should’ve stayed hidden,” Katsuki said, his voice jagged but eerily calm.

Shigaraki stumbled, clutching at his severed arm, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “You’re insane,” he spat, his voice quivering with both pain and disbelief.

Katsuki tilted his head, a crooked, eerie smile tugging at his lips. “You’re just figuring that out now?” His voice was a whisper, dripping with venom.

Shigaraki barely had time to respond before Katsuki was on him again, his sword carving through the air in wicked, precise arcs. Shigaraki dodged, his movements hysterical and desperate, but Katsuki didn’t let up. His every step was calculated chaos, his strikes wild but unerringly accurate, forcing Shigaraki further into retreat.

“You can’t stop me!” Shigaraki tousled, his voice rising in a panicked crescendo. “I’ll tear you apart – I’ll end you!”

Katsuki laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of amusement, but something broken and cold. It sent a shiver down my spine.

“End me?” Katsuki hissed, his voice guttural. “You’re a roach. And I burn roaches.”

His words were punctuated by an explosion that erupted from his palm, the force of it sending Shigaraki sprawling. The blast singed the ground, leaving a blackened crater in its wake. Katsuki stalked forward; his silhouette framed by the inferno behind him.

Shigaraki scrambled to his feet, his crimson eyes wild with panic. “You think this changes anything?” he spat, his voice cracking. “You’re just a rabid dog, Bakugo. Reckless. Mindless.”

Katsuki’s head tilted, his movements eerily fluid, almost serpentine. The flickering firelight cast jagged shadows across his face, making his grin look more like a predator baring its teeth. “Mindless?” he echoed, his voice a low, simmering. “You want to see mindless? Fine.”

His eyes narrowed, the crimson orbs glowing like embers. “Let me show you.”

He moved - no, struck - faster than the eye could follow. A sharp, metallic hiss cut through the air as his blade sliced through Shigaraki’s side. The motion was as precise as it was merciless, and the result was instant: blood sprayed out, dark and viscous, splattering against the blackened earth. It gleamed like molten rubies, the only beauty in the carnage.

“This,” Katsuki said, his voice thick with venom, “is for what your Master did. Twelve fucking years ago.” He advanced, step by slow, menacing step, his blade dripping. His breathing was ragged, harsh, as if each word threatened to tear itself out of him. “I was just a kid. Izuku was a kid. His mom... She was-”

His voice cracked, but it wasn’t weakness. It was something raw, an anguish so deep it twisted into fury. Katsuki raised the sword, its steel catching the firelight like a blade of flame. “She was innocent, you bastard!”

My stomach dropped. What? His words punched all the air out of my gut, more shocking than the blood staining the ground. It was All for One who came for Katsuki. The one who had nearly killed him.

Twice. 

Shigaraki let out a guttural scream, staggering backward as he clutched at his side, his fingers slick with blood. But Katsuki was already moving again.

He crossed the distance with a savage elegance, a storm bottled in human form. His hand shot out, grabbing Shigaraki by the collar. In a flash, he slammed him against the nearest tree with a force that made the trunk groan under the impact.

The sound of snapping bone was sickening - sharp and brutal, echoing through the burning forest like the crack of a whip. Shigaraki’s head lolled forward, a wheeze escaping his lips as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

Katsuki’s face was inches away, his teeth bared. His breath was hot, his voice a dangerous rasp. “You think I’m done with you?” His grip tightened, his knuckles whitening. “This isn’t just about me.”

The flames roared louder, almost as if feeding off his fury, wrapping them both in a circle of relentless heat. Katsuki didn’t move. His eyes burned brighter, their intensity swallowing everything else.

“You’re going to suffer for every life your Master stole,” he hissed, his voice guttural and inhuman, “and for the ones you’ve ruined in his name. I’m going to make sure you never forget this moment. You’re not leaving here alive, not for all the misery you’ve put me through,” Katsuki declared, his voice devoid of anything human.

Shigaraki’s hand shot out, his fingers stabbing into Katsuki’s arm. But Katsuki didn’t flinch. He drove his knee into Shigaraki’s gut, forcing the breath from his lungs in a choked gasp.

“Pathetic,” Katsuki spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

The final blow came without hesitation. Katsuki’s blade plunged into Shigaraki’s chest, the steel sinking deep with a sickening crunch. Shigaraki’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in a silent scream as blood bubbled at his lips.

Katsuki leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper. “This is what happens when you mess with what’s mine.”

With an unforgiving twist, he wrenched the blade free. Shigaraki crumpled to the ground, his body convulsing once before going still.

Katsuki stood over him, his chest heaving, his crimson eyes blazing. For a moment, he looked less like a man and more like a demon - an avenger forged in fire and blood.

Shigaraki’s lifeless body fell to the ground, blood spreading beneath him in dark, viscous pools. The world around us burned, the forest alive with flames that crackled, casting flickering shadows over Katsuki’s frame.

He stood above the body, his chest heaving, his sword still dripping crimson. Smoke and ash clung to the air, swirling around his figure like a storm. But his eyes - those wild, crimson eyes - weren’t on Shigaraki anymore.

They were on me.

My breath hitched as his gaze bore into mine, sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t look human in that moment; he was something untamed, something primal. There was no softness, no hesitation – only a raw, unrestrained hunger that made my heart thunder in my chest.

“K-” I began, but the words died on my lips.

He closed the distance between us in a single stride, the intensity radiating off him like heat from the flames. His hand shot out, gripping my arm tightly enough to make me wince as he dragged me forward.

“Katsuki– ”

I didn’t get a chance to finish. His mouth crashed against mine, rough and demanding, stealing the air from my lungs.

The kiss was nothing like I’d imagined. It wasn’t sweet or gentle; it was wild, desperate, consuming. His lips moved against mine with a fervour that left me breathless, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip as if he was trying to devour me whole.

One hand tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, while the other gripped my waist, hard enough to bruise. There was no space between us, no room to think or breathe – only him.

I gasped against his mouth, my hands instinctively clutching at his cloak as he tilted my head back, deepening the kiss with a ferocity that sent shivers down my spine. He groaned in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as his grip on me tightened.

“You’re mine,” he rasped against my mouth, “Do you hear me, Izuku? Mine. Always.”

His words sent a jolt through me, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. There was no mistaking the edge in his voice, the sheer possessiveness that clung to every syllable.

“I-”

He cut me off with another kiss, harder and rougher than the first. His teeth grazed my lips, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with a desperation that left me reeling. I felt like I was drowning in him, consumed by the heat of his touch, the weight of his presence.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed against mine, his breath was hot and ragged. His crimson eyes burned with a mix of fury and something deeper, something darker.

“You think I'd just let you disappear on me?” he asked, his grip on my hair tightening slightly. “You think I’d let anyone take you from me?” He locked his eyes onto mine again. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to keep you from me. Do you understand? Anyone.”

I shivered, my chest tightening as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. His words were harsh, but beneath them, I could feel the emotion, the helplessness he tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out, my voice cracking.

He stilled, his grip loosening slightly as his crimson eyes searched mine.

“For what?” he asked, his voice small but laced with a quiet desperation.

“For forgetting,” I said, the tears spilling over as I clung to his cloak. “For forgetting you, for forgetting us. Kacchan... I’m so sorry.”

The name hung between us like a physical thing, heavy and filled with meaning.

His eyes widened, the wildness in them softening for just a moment. “You... you remember,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

I nodded, my tears falling freely now. “I do. I remember the forest, the promise, everything. I remember you.”

A shuddering breath escaped him, and his hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away my tears with an almost reverent touch. “Damn right you do,” he muttered, though his voice was thick with emotion.

I let out a shaky laugh, my chest tightening as I rested my forehead against his. “I never should’ve forgotten. How…How did I even…”

Katsuki’s grip on me tightened again, his hands steady and unyielding as he shushed me. “You’re all I care about, Izuku,” he said, his voice raw. “I’ll fight the whole damn world down if it means keeping you safe.”

I sobbed softly, the weight of his words crashing over me as I whispered, “I don’t want to be anywhere else, Kacchan. I wanna be with you. It’s always been you.”

For a long moment, he just stared at me, his crimson eyes filled with something that made my heart ache. Then, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly it was as if he thought I might disappear.

“Don’t you dare leave me again,” he murmured against my hair, his voice breaking slightly.

“I won’t,” I promised, clutching him as the heat of the flames surrounded us, the chaos fading into the background.

At that moment, there was only him. Only us. And it was all perfect. 

Maybe fate doesn't hate me after all. 

Chapter Text

The blood still clung to my hands. Not mine - his. Shigaraki’s. The bastard’s corpse was probably still smouldering where I’d left it, but it didn’t feel like enough.

I wanted to rip him apart again and again; to make him suffer for every moment he’d had his filthy hands on Izuku. My sword had done the job, but it hadn’t satisfied the aggravating rage in my chest, the one that refused to settle even now.

Because for a few terrifying moments, I thought I’d lost him.

The memory burned in my mind, relentless. The way Shigaraki had dragged Izuku through the forest like he was nothing more than a trophy. The way those twisted hands had curled around him, threatening to end everything. And Izuku - wide-eyed and terrified, calling my name like it was the only thing he had left.

I’d never known fear like that before.

Not when I’d fought All for One’s forces, not when I’d stood on the front lines of war. None of it compared to the hollow, gut-wrenching terror of seeing Izuku in someone else’s grasp, knowing I might not get to him in time.

The thought alone was enough to make my chest ache, the phantom pressure of it squeezing the air from my lungs.

His wounds weren’t fatal. That’s what the healers had said. He’ll be fine, Your Majesty. They’d promised me over and over again, but I wasn’t sure I believed them.

When I last saw him, his face was pale against the pillow, his chest rising and falling in shallow, even breaths. The blood had been cleaned away, the cuts on his arms and face bandaged neatly. But the sight of him like this - so still, so vulnerable - made my heart twist painfully in my chest.

“I almost lost him,” I muttered, the words barely audible.

Beside me, my mom placed a hand on my shoulder, her grip firm but warm. “But you didn’t,” she said softly. “He’s here. You brought him back.”

Her voice carried none of her usual sharpness, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I wanted to snap at her, to shove her hand away and tell her she didn’t understand. But the truth was, I didn’t have the energy.

She sighed, the sound heavy with guilt. “I should’ve helped him,” she said, her voice quieter now. “If I’d stayed with him, maybe- ”

“No,” I said sharply, cutting her off. My throat felt tight, the words scraping against it as I forced them out. “It’s good you weren’t. I didn’t need to lose both of you.”

She stilled, her hand freezing on my shoulder.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t look up. I couldn’t.

Instead, I recalled Izuku, my jaw clenching as I fought the surge of emotions threatening to choke me. Anger, fear, relief - it was all tangled together, a storm I couldn’t control.

“I almost lost him,” I said again, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it steady. “And if I had - if that bastard had taken him- ”

My chest heaved, the words dying in my throat.

“He’s okay,” Mom said gently, her hand squeezing my shoulder. “He’s here, Katsuki. He’s alive.”

Alive. The word felt fragile, delicate, like it could shatter if I thought about it too much.

I let out a shaky breath, my hands unclenching just enough to feel the ache in my palms. “I won’t let it happen again,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.

And I meant it.

No one would take him from me. Not now, not ever.

The faint scent of flowers hit me the moment I opened the door to Izuku's room. Soft and sweet, it drifted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the herbs the healers had left behind. My eyes landed on him immediately, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

He was awake.

He was sitting up in bed, a small bouquet of flowers cradled in his lap. Roses, their red petals vibrant against the white linen sheets. He didn’t notice me at first, his gaze distant as his fingers brushed absently over the soft blooms.

“Awake?” I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

His head snapped up, his eyes wide and startled before softening when they met mine.

“Yeah,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his fingers tightening around the bouquet. “You... you found me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” I asked as I crossed the room in a few quick strides, my boots clicking softly against the floor.

“When he took me away. You came. Just like... just like you promised.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, leaning forward. “I told you, didn’t I? No one’s taking you from me.”

“How?” he asked, his green eyes flicking back to mine. “How did you know where I was?”

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to revisit the chaos that had unfolded in my search for him. But the way he was looking at me - like he needed this answer to make sense of everything - left me no choice.

“The Yagi Empire and that bitch Endeavor,” I began, my voice low but steady. “They were the first to get word of Shigaraki’s movements. Todoroki was the one who brought it to me. He thought it might be nothing, but I knew better. I... I knew he had you.”

I clenched my fists, the memory of those long, grueling days clawing at the edges of my mind. “We tracked him for days,” I continued. “Every lead, every whisper, I followed it. And when I got close... I knew. I could feel it. Like I’d been there before.”

Izuku’s gaze softened, his fingers brushing over the petals of the roses again. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Don’t thank me,” I said, my voice sharp but not unkind. “I should’ve been there sooner. I should’ve- ”

“Kacchan,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “You were there when it mattered.”

Fuck me.

The name. He’s using it again.

My chest tightened, and I leaned closer, my elbows resting on my knees. “You really remember…everything?”

“I do,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I remember saying I’d marry you. And... I meant it, even then. Because I loved you, Kacchan. I didn’t even know what it meant, but I knew it was true.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, raw and unfiltered. I reached out, my hand covering his where it rested against the roses.

“You weren’t wrong,” I said quietly, my voice rough with emotion. “I held onto that promise, Izuku. Even when you forgot, I never did.”

Izuku’s lips trembled, and his free hand reached out, brushing lightly against my arm. For a moment, we just sat there, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words and shared memories.

And then, softly, Izuku said, “Do you still...?”

“Yes,” I answered before he could finish, my voice steady and certain. “I always have.”

The tears spilled over then, silent but steady as he smiled at me - a real, genuine smile that made my chest ache.

“Kacchan,” he said softly, his voice filled with something warm and fragile. “Thank you.”

I squeezed his hand, my grip firm but gentle. “You don’t need to thank me,” I said, my lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “Just don’t ever forget again.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

Izuku leaned back against the headboard, his fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. His gaze was distant, like he was piecing together fragments of a memory just out of reach.

Izuku glanced at me, his eyes wide and searching. “How… how’d you get to the forest I found you in?”

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. But I owed him this - he deserved to know everything.

“I was kidnapped,” I began, my voice rough. “I was only eight. The bastards came in the night, broke through the palace defenses like they were nothing. They didn’t want money or power - they wanted to send a message. And I was the message.”

Izuku’s face paled, his lips pressing into a thin line as he listened.

“They kept me tied up for days,” I continued, the memory of those cold, dark nights sending a shiver down my spine. “I don’t even know how long it was. All I knew was that if I stayed, I’d die.”

His hand reached out instinctively, brushing against mine, but he didn’t speak.

“I escaped,” I said, my voice growing softer. “I don’t even know how. I just... ran. Through the woods, as far as my legs would carry me. I thought I was going to die out there, bleeding and half-starved.”

My chest tightened as the memory of that desperate flight resurfaced - the cold air biting at my skin, the trees blurring together as I stumbled through the darkness.

“And then I met you.”

Izuku’s breath hitched, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“You saved me,” I said, my voice firm but quiet. “You took me to your house, to your mom. You gave me food, a place to rest... you even tried to make me laugh.”

A small, broken smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t last. “What happened after that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I took a deep breath, the next words like shards of glass in my throat. “After a while, they found me. My location must’ve been leaked - maybe someone saw me, maybe they tracked my blood. I don’t know. But the assassins came before the rescue team.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “They came to finish the job,” I said bitterly. “They almost did. But the royal guard showed up just in time. They took me back, got me to safety.” I paused, swallowing hard. “Yagi Toshinori was with them. He was the one who found you.”

“Me?” Izuku asked, his voice trembling.

I nodded. “You had a concussion. He said it must’ve been from one of the blows during the attack. That’s probably why you didn’t remember anything - not me, not the promise... not what happened to Inko.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Izuku’s lips parted, his breath shallow as he stared at me. “My mom...”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “They couldn’t save her,” I said, the words feeling heavy and cruel as they left my mouth. “She... she didn’t make it.”

Izuku’s hand trembled in mine, and when I looked up, his face was pale, his eyes brimming with tears.

“She protected me,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

He nodded, my chest tightening as I forced myself to hold his gaze. “She did. She saved me, Izuku. And if she hadn’t...” My voice cracked, but I pushed through. “If she hadn’t, I never would’ve found you again.”

The room was quiet now, the weight of everything we’d just spoken hanging heavy in the air. Izuku’s hand rested in mine, his fingers trembling slightly as his tears silently fell.

I wanted to say something - anything - to take the pain away, but no words felt strong enough. Instead, I tightened my grip, grounding both of us in the here and now.

“Izuku,” I said softly, my voice breaking the silence.

His eyes lifted to meet mine, wide and glassy, filled with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“You’ve been through so much,” I continued, my voice low and unsteady. “And I know... I know I can’t undo any of it. I can’t change what happened to your mom, or the years you spent not remembering. But I swear to you- ”

I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you’re never alone again. That you’re safe, that you’re happy... that you never have to feel that kind of pain again.”

His lips parted slightly, his breath catching as my words sank in.

“I don’t care what it takes,” I said, my voice stronger now. “I’ll protect you, Izuku. With everything I have, with everything I am. And not because of some promise we made as kids, but because- ”

I broke off, my chest tightening painfully as I forced the words out.

“Because I love you.”

The admission hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst, but I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.

“I’ve loved you since the moment you found me in that forest,” I continued, my voice trembling but unwavering. “And I’ll keep loving you, no matter what.”

I let go of his hand, reaching into the pocket of my jacket and pulling out a small, battered ring. It wasn’t anything special - not the glittering, expensive jewelry the court would expect from a king. But it was something I’d carried with me for years, a symbol of the promise we’d made as kids.

“This… it’s Inko’s. I kept this with me after we separated, so… Izuku,” I said, my voice breaking as I sank to one knee beside his bed. “Will you marry me?”

His eyes widened, tears spilling over as he stared at me in disbelief. “Kacchan,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“I know it’s sudden,” I said quickly, the words tumbling out of me in a rush. “And I know things are complicated. But I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to waste another second wondering what might happen if I lose you again. I just... I want you by my side, Izuku. Always.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak, his breath hitching as he stared down at me. And then, with a soft, broken laugh, he nodded.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Relief flooded through me, and before I could think, I surged forward, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into a fierce embrace.

“Yes,” he said again, his voice stronger now as his arms came up to cling to me. “Of course, yes, Kacchan. Always.”

I buried my face in his shoulder, my chest heaving as the weight I’d been carrying for so long finally lifted. Fuck.

And now, nothing would take him from me again.

---

The grand hall of the Bakugo castle had never looked like this.

The walls, usually imposing, were draped with flowing banners in crimson and emerald - the royal colours of my empire blended with shades of Izuku’s pulsating presence. The golden chandeliers above gleamed brighter than ever, casting warm, welcoming light across the polished marble floor. The long tables were covered in rich white linens, adorned with arrangements of roses - deep red and soft green, tied together with gold ribbons.

It was beautiful. Almost too much.

I didn’t care about any of it.

My focus was on him.

Izuku.

He stood across the hall, surrounded by pink cheeks, or whatever, the half and half bastard, and four eyes, who were fussing over him like he was a fragile porcelain doll. Even from here, I could see how his cheeks flushed as they adjusted the emerald accents on his white outfit, his hands fidgeting nervously as they flitted around him. His laughter reached me faintly over the chatter of the crowd, soft and hesitant, but real.

It made my chest feel tight in the best possible way.

“You look like a lovesick idiot.”

I turned to glare at Kirishima, who was grinning beside me, his sharp teeth flashing as he adjusted the crimson sash across his chest.

“Shut up, shitty hair,” I snapped, though there wasn’t much heat behind the words.

He only laughed, clapping a hand on my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble slightly. “Relax, man. You’re about to marry the love of your life. You should be smiling.”

I scowled, brushing his hand off and turning my gaze back to Izuku. “I don’t need to smile for this to be perfect,” I muttered.

Kirishima chuckled, his tone turning softer. “You’re right. But he deserves to see how happy he makes you, you know?”

I didn’t respond, my jaw tightening as I watched pink-cheeks tug at the lapels of Izuku’s jacket while half-n-half said something that made him laugh again.

Happy.

That’s what this was supposed to be about. Not the years of bloodshed or the broken promises or the fear that had almost torn us apart. Just... this moment. Him and me, and the life we were about to build together.

“I’m happy,” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone.

Kirishima must’ve heard, though, because he grinned wider. “Good,” he said simply, clapping me on the back one last time before heading off to help the servants with the seating arrangements.

I stayed where I was, watching as Izuku turned slightly, his gaze flitting toward me like he could feel my eyes on him.

When our gazes met, the smile on his lips softened, and something warm bloomed in my chest. He looked nervous but... happy. Like he was exactly where he wanted to be.

I clenched my fists at my sides, grounding myself in the moment. This was real. He was going to marry me, and soon the whole damn world would know it.

“Not long now,” I murmured to myself, a small, determined smirk tugging at my lips.

I was going to make this perfect for him. No matter what it took.

The formalities were dragging on. Endless greetings, people bowing, and too many damn nobles gushing about how "beautiful the hall looked" or "how honoured they were to be here." Tch. They weren’t here for me.

And honestly, I wasn’t here for them either.

My eyes never left Izuku, even as I nodded absently at some lord prattling on about our union being “a beacon of peace for the kingdoms.” I grunted in agreement - mostly to get him to shut up - and slipped through the crowd the first chance I got.

I wanted him.

Izuku was still with his friends, his laughter spilling out like music as Shoto handed him a drink. His eyes sparkled, the emerald hue catching the light just enough to make my heart stutter like I wasn’t the same guy who’d cut down armies without blinking.

He didn’t see me coming.

“Izuku.” My voice was low, just for him, as I leaned down to murmur in his ear.

He startled, spinning around, his cheeks already pink from either the drink or my proximity. Maybe both. He looked up at me, his wide eyes brimming with that earnestness that always wrecked me.

“K-Kacchan!” he stammered, his hands darting up to fix the lapels of my crimson jacket like he needed something to do with them. “I - I didn’t see you- ”

“Obviously,” I cut in, letting a slow smirk spread across my lips. I reached out, tugging gently at the sash draped across his chest, adjusting it as an excuse to step closer. “But now you do.”

His breath hitched when my fingers brushed against his shoulder, and I fought to keep my grin from getting too cocky.

“Kacchan,” he said again, softer this time, like the sound of my name was enough to steady him.

Fuck it, he was too cute for his own good. I want to lock him up and make sure he never leaves.

“Damn, Izuku,” I said, letting my eyes roam over him shamelessly. The white suit hugged his frame perfectly, and the emerald accents brought out his eyes in a way that was just unfair. I leaned in, letting my voice drop to a teasing whisper. “You clean up nice. Maybe too nice. I’m starting to think half this crowd is here just to see you.”

His blush deepened, spreading down his neck, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“T-That’s not true!” he protested, flustered and fiddling with his cuffs now. “Everyone’s here for both of us! For... our wedding!”

“Oh, yeah?” I tilted my head, my grin turning sharper. “But keep in mind that right now, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who gets to see how damn good you look up close.”

“Kacchan!” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced around, his embarrassment clear in the way his hands fluttered nervously. “People are watching! Plus, you aren't supposed to be here!”

“Let them,” I said, my voice unapologetically low and teasing. My fingers brushed against his wrist, just enough to feel his pulse race. “Plus, I'm the King, these fuckers can't tell me what to do.”

His lips parted, his breath catching like he wanted to respond but didn’t know how. I leaned in closer, letting my forehead rest against his for just a second, my voice softening.

“You nervous?” I asked, my teasing replaced by something quieter, more honest.

His gaze flicked up to meet mine, and the shy smile that tugged at his lips made something in my chest clench. “A little,” he admitted. “But... not about us.”

“Good.” I pulled back slightly, enough to see the fortitude in his eyes. “Because I’ve got big plans for you tonight, nerd.”

He blinked, his blush returning full force. “B-Big plans?”

I smirked, stepping back just enough to let him catch his breath. “You’ll see.”

Before he could respond, a voice called out, summoning us to the center of the hall. The ceremony was about to begin.

I offered him my arm, the smirk on my lips softening just slightly. “Let’s do this.”

Izuku slipped his hand into the crook of my elbow, his touch steady despite the nervous energy radiating off him. He looked up at me, his eyes shining with trust and something deeper.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft but sure. “Let’s do this.”

As we made our way to the center of the hall, I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. He was mine. And by the end of tonight, there wouldn’t be a single damn person in the world who didn’t know it.

The grand hall had gone quiet as we gathered.

The chatter and laughter of the guests had faded to an expectant hush as Izuku, and I stood at the center of it all. This wasn’t how a normal wedding went, but honesty, I couldn’t care less about these customs people made. The old hag would lecture me about the lack of organising later, but it’ll be so worth it.

The air felt heavier here, charged with something I couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was the weight of a thousand eyes watching. Maybe it was the significance of what we were about to do.

Or maybe it was just him.

Izuku stood beside me, his hand still resting lightly on my arm, grounding me in a way nothing else ever could. His gaze flitted nervously across the hall, but when I shifted closer, he looked up at me - and that was all it took.

Everything else fell away.

The officiant began to speak, his voice solemn and practiced, but I barely heard him. My focus was on Izuku. His soft green curls framed his face perfectly, and his eyes were impossibly bright, shimmering with emotion. His cheeks were still pink, but his expression had softened, a quiet strength replacing his earlier nerves.

He was breathtaking.

“Do you, Katsuki Bakugo, take Izuku Midoriya to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to honour and protect him, in times of joy and sorrow, for as long as you both shall live?”

The words snapped me back to reality, and I realised everyone was watching me. Waiting.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I hesitated.

Not because I doubted. Fuck no. But because this moment - the one I’d been fighting for, bleeding for, burning for - was finally here. And it was almost too much.

I clenched my fists, taking a steadying breath before I met Izuku’s gaze again. His lips curved into the smallest, most encouraging smile, like he could feel the storm raging in my chest and was trying to calm it just by being there.

“I do,” I said, my voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Izuku’s smile widened, and I thought I saw his eyes glisten just a little.

The officiant turned to him next. “And do you, Izuku Midoriya, take Katsuki Bakugo to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to honour and protect him, in times of joy and sorrow, for as long as you both shall live?”

Izuku’s breath hitched, and I felt his hand tighten on my arm. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his lips parting slightly as he looked at me like I was something he didn’t quite deserve but would never let go of.

Then, softly, he said, “I do.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

The officiant’s voice droned on, pronouncing us bonded or married or whatever formal shit they had to say, but I didn’t care about any of it. All I cared about was Izuku, standing there, looking at me like I was his entire damn world.

“You may now seal your vows with a kis-,” before the officiant finished, I smirked and leaned in closer towards Izuku.

“You ready, nerd?” I murmured, my voice low enough that only he could hear.

His blush deepened, and he nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he reached up to rest them against my chest.

“Then hold on,” I teased, sliding my arms around his waist and pulling him close.

The kiss was soft at first, barely more than a brush of lips, but then Izuku’s fingers curled into the fabric of my jacket, and something in me snapped.

I deepened the kiss, ignoring the gasps and murmurs from the crowd as I poured everything into that moment - all the love, all the desperation, all the promises I’d made to him and to myself. He melted against me, his warmth anchoring me like nothing else ever could.

When we finally pulled apart, Izuku was breathless, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly swollen. He looked up at me, his eyes wide and dazed, and I couldn’t help the smug grin that spread across my face.

The applause erupted around us, the sound thunderous, but...

All I saw was him.

And all I could think was how lucky I was that he was here. Beside me.

The cheers still echoed faintly through the halls of the castle as I dragged Izuku through the side corridors. My hand was locked around his wrist, my steps purposeful and quick. The feast and dancing were still in full swing behind us, but I didn’t care. I’d done my duty, nodded at the right people, and kept my temper in check for hours.

Now? Now it was my time.

“K-Kacchan, slow down!” Izuku stammered, trying to keep pace, though his laughter betrayed his nervousness. “Where are we- ”

“Quiet, nerd,” I muttered, glancing over my shoulder at him. His cheeks were still flushed from the kiss, his hair slightly mussed, and his emerald suit jacket was just a little crooked from where my hands had grabbed him earlier.

He looked so gorgeous. So irresistible.

So fucking mine.

I pushed open the door to our chambers, the heavy wood creaking as it revealed a space bathed in golden light from a crackling hearth. The bed, draped in crimson and emerald silks, was the centerpiece, the linens practically glowing in the firelight.

Izuku stumbled slightly as I pulled him into the room, and I used the momentum to spin him around, pinning him gently against the door. My palms flattened against the wood on either side of his head, caging him in.

His breath hitched, his wide eyes darting up to meet mine. “Kacchan,” he whispered, his voice trembling, his hands coming up to rest tentatively against my chest.

“Yeah?” I smirked, leaning closer, letting my lips hover just above his.

He didn’t respond, his throat working as he swallowed hard, his blush spreading down his neck. His fingers curled slightly, gripping the fabric of my shirt.

I let out a low chuckle, my voice dropping to a near-growl. “You’re too damn cute, you know that?”

“K-Kacchan, the guests are still- ”

“Screw the guests.” My voice was so rough it surprised me as I pressed closer, my body fitting perfectly against his. “I don’t give a damn about any of them. Tonight’s about us, Izuku. Just us.”

His breath shuddered out, his green eyes locked on mine, and I felt a rush of satisfaction at the way his pulse raced under my hands.

“You're going to be stuck with me from now on,” I murmured, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear, earning a soft gasp from him. “Completely. Legally. And you’re gonna know it.”

“Kacchan...” His voice was barely a whisper, but there was something in it - something pleading, something trusting - that nearly undid me.

The scent of Izuku's soft skin filled my nostrils. His body trembled slightly in my arms, a reminder of the hell we'd just escaped before the wedding. But it was over now. Shigaraki was vanquished, and Izuku was finally safe.

I could feel the weight of his gaze on me as we moved, his emerald eyes reflecting the torchlight. I knew he was safe with me, but I couldn't shake the lingering fear that had taken root in my heart. I'd lost him once, and it had nearly broken me.

I pushed him down, face-front, on the bed, his soft green curls splayed out against the velvet sheets.

Izuku turned to look up at me, his breaths shallow and quick. His eyes, those fucking beautiful emerald eyes, were wide with a mix of anxiety and desire.

Fear I could handle, I knew how to protect him. But desire? That was new territory. I wanted to strip him bare, claim him, make him mine in every fucking way.

"Katsuki," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're okay."

I looked down, confused, only to realise I was gripping his shoulders too tightly. I eased my hold, but my gaze remained intense. "I'm sorry, Izuku, I just... I need to touch you. To make sure you're real."

His cheeks flushed, but he didn't look away.

Good. He should be looking at me, should be seeing the raw need in my eyes. I let my hands slide down to his body and his chest as I flipped him over, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The wolf inside me, the one that had always craved power and dominance, was clawing at my insides, desperate to claim what was his.

I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear. "This belongs to me now, Izuku," I whispered, my voice low and primal. "Every fucking inch of you. And I'm going to make damn sure you know it."

He shivered, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

"K-Katsuki," he stammered, his hands clutching at my shoulders. His eyes were glassy, and it sent a jolt of pure fucking pleasure straight to my cock.

I wanted to hear him scream my name. Wanted to hear him beg for it.

I grinned, a slow, wicked curl of my lips. "You're so fucking responsive, baby. I love it." My hands trailed down his sides, feeling the soft, smooth skin beneath his clothes. I wanted to tear them off, wanted to see all of him. But I forced myself to go slow, to savour this moment.

I couldn't rush, not after waiting twelve fucking years. I hooked my fingers into the hem of his shirt and peeled it off, revealing the soft, smooth skin of his chest. His nipples were hard, little peaks begging for my touch. I leaned down, taking one into my mouth and sucking hard enough to make him gasp.

He arched off the bed, his hips bucking against mine. I could feel his cock, hard and straining against his pants. I wanted it, needed it, but I wasn't ready to give in yet.

Not when I had all this delicious skin to explore. I moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, making Izuku writhe beneath me. His breaths came in short gasps, his body writhing like he was trying to get closer, to rub against me.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. I wanted to see all of him, every inch. I sat back on my heels, my hands going to the waistband of his pants. I looked up at him, our eyes locking, and I saw the slightly nervous, slightly excited flicker in his gaze. "Lift up," I commanded, voice low.

Izuku's eyes widened slightly, but he complied, his hips lifting off the bed as I tugged his pants and underwear down. I tossed them aside, my eyes feasting on the sight of him - sprawled out on our bed, naked and vulnerable, his cock hard and straining for me.

Fuck, he was beautiful. I ran a hand up his inner thigh, feeling the goosebumps rise in my wake. I could see the pulse fluttering in his neck, could see the sweat beading on his skin. He was fucking nervous, but his cock didn't lie. He wanted this, wanted me.

Izuku’s back pressed against the soft silk sheets, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts as he looked up at me. His hair was mussed, the green curls splayed out like a halo against the crimson and emerald linens. His lips were slightly swollen from our kisses, and his cheeks glowed with a warmth that matched the firelight flickering around us.

I hovered above him, one hand braced on the mattress beside his head, the other trailing lightly over his side. He shivered under my touch, his eyes never leaving mine, wide and filled with something that made my chest tighten.

“Still good, nerd?” I murmured, my voice low and rough.

He nodded quickly, his hands sliding up to rest against my chest, his touch hesitant but eager. “Y-Yeah,” he whispered, his voice breathless but steady. “I’m good.”

“Good.” I leaned down, brushing my lips against his temple, then his cheek, before letting them hover just above his neck.

His breath hitched at my words, and his hands curled into the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer. The action was shy but insistent, and it made something hot and possessive flare in my chest.

I kissed him again, deeper this time, letting my weight press against him just enough to feel the way he responded - his body arching, his fingers gripping tighter, his soft, breathless sounds filling the air between us.

The kiss broke, and I pulled back slightly, my thumb brushing over his cheek as I looked down at him. “You’re so damn perfect,” I muttered, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

His blush deepened, and he shook his head, his gaze shy but firm. “Tell me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

I smirked, leaning closer so our foreheads touched. “You drive me crazy, nerd,” I murmured, my voice raw with honesty. “Every time you look at me like that, every time you trust me like this... It makes me so fucking hard. It makes me want to give you everything. To keep you safe. To make you happy. Forever.”

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and he reached up, his fingers brushing against my cheek. “You already make me happy, Kacchan,” he said softly, his voice trembling but sure. “More than anyone ever has.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting his words sink in, grounding myself in the truth of them. Then I opened them, meeting his gaze. “Then let me show you,” I said, my voice low and steady. “How much you mean to me. How much I love you.”

“Katsuki,” he whispers, but before he can say anything more, I, again, captured his mouth in a fierce, consuming kiss, my hands tangling in his hair. It’s desperate, raw, every bit of restraint I’d held onto until now slipping away. All the worry, the months of searching for him, the fear of nearly losing him - all of it spills out at this moment. I need him to know, to feel it, to understand just how deeply he’s rooted in me.

"Izuku," I say, my voice rough with desire. For all the times we've been together, this feels different, special. We're finally married, and tonight, I get to take what's mine. I bite this neck, relishing this sharp gasp that leaves his mouth as I lick the blood off his perfect neck, my hands reaching out to grip his hips firmly. "Tonight, I'm going to make you forget every doubt you ever had."

His breath hitches as my fingers dig into his flesh, and he nods, his eyes fluttering shut. "Katsuki. Please..."

My cock twitches in my pants, straining against the fabric. I need to feel him, to claim him fully.

"You ready for this?" I ask, my voice low, almost breathless. My lips brush against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Y-yes," he gasps, his hands fisting in the front of my shirt. "Please, Katsuki... just do it."

His legs spread instinctively as I turn him over. My hand slides down his back, tracing the curve of his spine until I reach the hem of his pants. With one swift motion, I yank them down, along with his boxers, baring his ass to my hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," I mutter, my voice thick with lust. I lean down, my lips pressing against the small of his back, tasting his skin. He moans softly, his hands clutching the sheets as I continue my slow descent, my tongue flicking out to tease the delicate skin of his inner thighs.

His breath comes faster, more ragged, as I circle his hole with my tongue, tasting the sweet anticipation there. "Katsuki... please... don't..."

“Don’t what, baby?”

“Do–Don’t tease…”

I pull back, giving him a wicked smile. "Beg for it, then," I demand, my voice dripping with authority.

He whines, his head dropping to the mattress. "Please... Katsuki."

Fuck, I'm done for.

That's all the permission I need. I grab the lubricant from the bedside table, slicking up my fingers before pressing one inside him. He gasps, his body clenching around my digit, but he pushes back, eager for more. He's so fucking warm. I add a second finger, stretching him gently but firmly, hearing his moans of pleasure grow louder.

When I feel him loosen enough, I remove my fingers and line my cock up with his entrance. I thrust in hard and fast, not giving him a moment to adjust. He cries out, his nails digging into the sheets as I bury myself deep inside him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I groan, my hips snapping forward again, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. His body clenches around me, tight and hot, driving me wild.

"Kacchan... harder..." he pleads, his voice breaking.

I give him exactly what he wants. Gripping his hips tighter, I increase my pace, pounding into him with bruising force. Each thrust hits deeper, harder, rocking his entire body. I can feel his prostate rubbing against my shaft with every movement, making him arch his back and cry out in ecstasy.

"Yes... like that... yes!" he shouts, his voice raw with need.

I can't hold back any longer. The sight of him spread out beneath me, taking every inch of my cock, drives me over the edge. Fuck…I’ve waited - dreamt - about this for so long. For 12 whole fucking years. 

I slam into him one last time, grinding against his prostate as I come, filling him with my release. He shudders beneath me, his own orgasm washing over him as he clutches the sheets, his whole body trembling.

Panting heavily, I collapse beside him, pulling him into my arms. "Mine," I whisper, kissing his temple. "Forever mine."

He nods, his eyes half-lidded, exhausted but blissfully satisfied. "Yours," he echoes, leaning into my embrace “Forever yours.”

For the rest of the night, I took my time. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a promise - a reminder of everything we’d fought for, everything we’d lost and found again.

As the fire crackled softly in the hearth and the world outside faded away, there was only us. Two hearts, two souls, finally whole.

And for the first time in years, I felt at peace.

I felt at home.

Him and I.

Always. Forever.