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The words, when they first appeared, were as expected, shaky and childish; a simple black loopy line in a terrible imitation of All Might.
Katsuki stared at his right hand for several minutes, tracing the lines slowly with his pinky, legs dangling off the kitchen counter, waiting for his mother to finish bandaging his knee. Mitsuki hummed a song under her breath, one that was playing on the radio minutes ago when Masaru had pulled her to dance. Where her husband would have dipped her into a kiss, her brat of a son had waltzed into the living room, limping and loudly declared that he and Izuku had “Beaten up the hag that lived in the neighbour’s tree stump!”
Mituski was never going to get tired of her son’s charades.
“Hey, ma.”
Mitsuki tied off the bandage and looked up, poking her son’s cheek and making him grumble loudly. “Yes, rascal mine?”
Katsuki held up his right hand and said, “I’m going to marry this All Might wannabe.”
Mitsuki smiled, “Is that right? And who is th-”
The words, I Am Here! Scribbled out under the drawing in bold, shaky characters. Each character carefully written until they were neatly aligned beside the drawing.
Mitsuki screeched. It wasn’t her proudest moment. “Masaru! It’s here! IT’S ON HIS HAND!”
Katsuki yelped and clapped his tiny hands over his ears and shouted just as loudly, “MA! THAT’S LOUD!”
“YOU’RE LOUD!” She yelled back, laughing in disbelief as she slowly pulled her son’s hand to her face and examined the writing slowly cropping up, all varying degrees of All Might-themed quotes and drawings. Ah yes, a good fit for her son.
Masaru came rushing in, almost knocking one of their decorative vases to the floor. He slid on the hardwood until he came to an abrupt stop in front of his wife and son and asked, “It’s here?” In response, Mitsuki raised her son’s hand up. Masaru whooped, and then scooped up his bewildered looking son, throwing him in the air and laughing as Katsuki screamed, laughed and called them crazy.
When Masaru had finally set him to his feet, Mitsuki knelt and cradled her son’s face close and pressed a kiss to his nose, chuckling when Katsuki wrinkled his nose, immediately screeching out a strangled, “Ew ma!”
Her son really was the most dramatic brat she will ever shit out.
“Listen to me, Katsuki,” she said and waited till he stopped throwing his mini I-hate-affection tantrum and focused his attention on her, little ruby red eyes blinking up at her.
That evening, when the sun had begun its descent and the radio played another slow song, Mitsuki made her son promise something he would never forget.
“Promise me that whoever your soulmate is, you’ll never forget to cherish and love them.”
The sun had dipped further, spilling little tendrils of light into their room as Katsuki frowned for a moment, a stubborn set in his jaw that gave way to the determined gleam in his eyes and the force of his grin when he held up his fist and declared, “I promise.”
There in the tranquillity of their living room, Mitsuki saw a glimpse of the man her son would become.
The words when they appeared, were neat but slanted, curving at his wrist and disappearing to the back of his hand. The words, Never Fear, All Might is Here written neatly for Izuku to gasp at. He drew his finger over the characters, tracing each word with reverence as he muttered the words to himself and giggled brightly.
His drawing had already faded from his left hand but from little he understood about this delicate tether, he knew the drawing wouldn’t fade from his soulmate’s hand for another hour or so.
He clambered to his feet and ran into the living room, bouncing off the back of the couch and jumping on his mother’s cushions, “Mama! Look! Look! My soulmate wrote back!”
Inko gasped loudly from the kitchen and rushed out, drying her hands on her apron as quickly as she could. “Did they?! Oh let me see!” Her hands were gentle as they traced the words on his wrist and she smiled so brightly the corners of her eyes stretched with the little crow’s feet that Izuku adored seeing.
It wasn’t often his mother had a reason to smile so brightly anymore.
“Oh darling, they wrote back! And look! Another All Might fan too!” She laughed giddily and scooped Izuku up into her warm embrace, pressing a litany of kisses to his cheeks, his hair, his eyes and his nose. Izuku giggled and soaked up the affection like a sponge, basking in her love as she twirled them around the living room.
Izuku gasped and squirmed a little until his mother pulled back and settled him on her hip to look up at him with a questioning smile. Whatever she saw on her son’s face stopped her, her smile dipping just a bit, “Izuku?”
Izuku looked down and fiddled with the collar of her shirt, “Will… will we get to be heroes together mama? My soulmate and me?”
Inko’s heart shattered into the tiniest pieces that ripped through her fragile smile and bled her happiness away. Her smile wavered, and her eyes tightened as she tried her hardest not to cry. Her fingers carded through Izuku’s hair, gentle motions that chased away the lingering doubt behind her son’s eyes and the hard set in his shoulders.
Inko swallowed tightly and then nodded to herself, adjusting her son until she could hold up her pinky and say, “How about this? Promise me that no matter who your soulmate is, you’ll do everything to achieve all that you can. Promise me that…” she sniffled, “... that if you both decide to be heroes, you do it together and where the world expects you to be their swords, you be each other’s shields. Promise me baby?”
Inko will never forget that evening, the distinct sound of their old grandfather clock chiming down their hall, the smell of the ac when it was just turned on, the glare of the sun as it hit her tinted windows and dipped away to hide behind the buildings outside.
Inko watched as Izuku pressed his little fingers to her cheek, chewing on the inside of his lip as he thought long and hard before his baby doe eyes narrowed determinedly, his smile big and bright as he linked his pinky with her’s, as strong as his little fingers would let him and whispered, “I promise mama.”
And Inko glimpsed the hero her son would grow up to be.
Katsuki Bakugo tries to break his promise at age sixteen. In the early hours of the night, he watches the ink on his hand and feels that indistinguishable churn in his gut.
He can’t label it. Hadn’t tried to anyway.
It’s useless to try to convince himself what he was doing was wrong and he wouldn’t be swayed. Not by glaring red eyes like his own, nor by doe bright that follow him with that same suffocating air of hope and adoration.
Hope he couldn't give because that meant giving up on something that he chased with the relentless pursuit of a raging bull. UA was so close he could almost grasp it, he was almost blinded by how sweet victory tasted. Now when the fire has died down and the sense has finally been knocked into him he dares not think of the ink on his fingertips and the words on his wrist.
He knows he was the shittest human to exist. Not close to a man but tethering on the precipice of adulthood, ruminating on the choices of a younger Katsuki who focused so much on glory he never realised he was giving up a piece of his soul. The same way he knew without a single doubt that Izuku Midoriya was the other half of said soul. Knew deep down in his bones that useless Deku was never useless to begin with, knew he could never take back the spiteful, venom-laced words of middle school or the pain he caused during their first year at UA. Knew he didn’t deserve that beaming smile and gentle reassurances.
When the war had begun and Izuku became the masked vigilante, Katsuki’s heart carved itself out to try and follow his soul into rain-soaked streets and a crumbling society just to be able to hold him again. Aizawa watched him like a hawk that week when he was sure Katsuki was ready to break down the doors and burn his way through the streets of Japan to find Izuku.
He came so close to doing so when Aizawa caught him desperately scribbling on his hand for Izuku to write back, to respond, to tell him he was alive. Just one word, one letter, anything.
Aizawa had taken the pen away when his hands began to shake and when the tears flew on in rivulets so great he was sure he would cry himself into a heartbroken coma. His teacher had hugged him and promised him in the quiet sanctity of that lone rooftop that he would find Izuku and Dynamight would have his Deku back.
And when Katsuki died on the blood soaked battlefield, Izuku had quietly admitted in their shared hospital room that it felt like his heart had stopped beating right when Katsuki’s did. Felt like his last tether to humanity had faded away alongside the rasping choke of Katsuki’s last breath.
It’s in the quiet of the hospital Katsuki realises he doesn’t deserve him. Katsuki made sure he deserved his wins. He did not win Izuku Midoriya, nor did he deserve him.
The words swan dive ring in his head every time he sees a roof and his heart threatens to beat its way out of his ribcage at the mere thought of Izuku bleeding away on the ground, the mere thought that those green green eyes would be lifeless and blank and it haunts his every sleeping moment.
Swan dive.
It’s the logical thing to do.
The pen is uncapped and steady in his fingers before he’s even processed his thoughts, the tip digging into his wrist as he stares a hole into his wall, waiting for the words to miraculously bestow themselves onto his skin. His hands waver, his short-lived confidence fading away bit by bit.
He hates it.
Instead of writing what he had hoped to be an end of their fledgling (never established) relationship, he eyes the words on his palm. ‘You remind me of the smell of gunpowder and the warmth of a fireplace. Isn’t that corny Kacchan?’
It was corny. It was the best thing he’s read all day.
Sometimes he’d write back, other times he’d stare at the words and the hope of something more would overwhelm him.
Where Katsuki had tried his best to ignore their bond (a slight he will never forgive himself for), Izuku had taken to writing about the little things that reminded him of Katsuki even through middle school when Katsuki had scoffed at his existence and declared their bond a mistake. The sound of a river, the fog on a cold morning, the campsite where his parents would take them both for long hikes at the beginning of their summer break, the northern lights, a garden gnome, a black and white polaroid of a small growling dog.
The list was endless. It was exactly who Izuku was.
Always so loving in the face of all of Katsuki’s hate.
He’d written the words before he even fully processed them.
‘You’ve always deserved someone better than me Izuku.’
The words are so uncharacteristically not Katsuki that Izuku almost thinks he’s hallucinated them but they stay, even after he blinks back the shock and the tiny pinpricks of anger.
Deserve someone better?
He’ll show Katsuki just who he deserves.
‘Park near Asami-san’s. Now.’
He hesitates for a moment and then scribbles out, ‘Please.’
He’s dropping a spare pen in his pants pocket, throwing on a coat and is just about done shoving his feet into his sneakers when his mother appears in the doorway, hands on her hips, decorated with a disbelieving frown. “Izuku Midoriya.”
He winces and smiles as placatingly as he can. “Mom,” he says, silently pleading with his mother to not question her son’s quite obvious and suspicious behaviour. ‘Please think I’m acting as a rebellious teenager. Please. Please,’ Izuku prays.
“What on earth are you gallivanting around this late in the night for?”
“Uh-” he scratches his head, “I’m not… gallivanting as such-”
“Izuku.”
God is not on his side tonight.
He winces harder and stands up, holding onto his wrist as he looks at her and gets out his big puppy eyes, “I’m… rebelling.”
Inko’s eyebrows fly up and her glare turns into outright bafflement. “You’re rebelling?”
Izuku grits his teeth and nods slowly. “Yes. I’m rebelling. Finally hit the rebellious phase. You got me- I’m just going to uh-” He gestures vaguely to the door and hopes he can make a quick escape.
His mother. His wonderful, loving mother simply raises an eyebrow at him and points to the genkan. “Sit.”
His ass has never sat down faster in his life. Izuku can feel his will to live slowly leeching out of his body at the questioning look on his mother’s face but he can’t keep his soulmate waiting. So before Inko can even get another word in, Izuku blurts out, “It’s Kacchan.”
Inko blinks at him slowly, like a cat assessing a helpless bird, “Katsuki? That boy would never call you out so late.” Izuku watches with a growing sense of dread as his mother’s expression melts into a mischievous grin and she turns around, calling out as she goes, “In fact, let me call Mitsuki just to make sure-”
Izuku shrieks out, “It’s a soulmate problem!”
That stops her in her tracks and she half turns towards her son with a tilt of her head, “A problem?”
Izuku nods and grips the hem of his coat. “He just… he said something that… made no sense and I can’t-” His eyes tighten, “I can’t have him thinking he’s not worth anything to me.”
There’s a heavy silence that threatens to suffocate Izuku, and briefly he thinks, ‘I would rather carry All Might in his prime around until he crushes me to death than have a possible stare down with my mother. I’d die in a heartbeat.’
Inko takes a breath and waits a beat before kneeling and cupping her son’s face in her hands. She lifts his cheek and catches his eye, smiling sadly at the slowly mounting desperation written plainly on her son’s face. “You’re gonna set him straight?”
Izuku can’t help but snort. “Straight is the exact opposite of what I-”
Inko smacks her son’s arm lightly and grumbles out, “Don’t you get sassy with me Izuku Midoriya, I will ground you.”
Izuku smiles and grabs her wrists, squeezing them gently before lowering them and nodding. “Be each other's shields.” He looks at her with a grin, “That’s what you said, right mom?” Inko sniffles and says proudly, “Go on then. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
‘He’s finally gone insane,’ is what Katsuki settles for as the words on his wrist keep appearing, each less legible than the next. The only thing he can make out is a vaguely threatening ‘I’m going to show you exactly what I mean’ before it dissolves into an illegible chicken scrawl.
‘He always did have disastrous handwriting.’ Katsuki thinks fondly before he huffs, banishing the amusement and adoration away. He doesn’t deserve him.
The swing is loud and it creaks a truly haunted sound every time Katsuki so much as jostles it around a little. He hopes Asami-san isn’t home right now because he refuses to get off the swing even though it croaks a dying screech. He likes the swaying motion and if Asami-san has a problem Katsuki might just have to fight an eighty four year old man tonight.
He kicks his right foot out, letting his weight swing back and allow him the gentle sway of an old swing that sounds ready to give up.
It’s quiet tonight.
Katsuki had at least expected teenagers to be loitering around, blasting shitty pop music and sharing greasy snacks but there was no sign of anyone. Katsuki frowned and craned his neck and looked around. In fact if he concentrated hard enough he was pretty sure Asami-san wasn’t at home and neither were his neighbours for that matter. Which was strange for a neighbourhood of predominantly elderly people.
Katsuki frowned and stopped kicking his legs back. Was there something happening tonight in this neighbourhood? A robbery? Hotpot night? Something even more illegal?
Izuku’s telltale streak of green zapped down the roads just as Katsuki debated walking to the nearest police station to get more information. He wasn’t about to go knocking on people’s doors at this hour and he was getting antsy.
Izuku dropped his hands to his knees for a moment before he straightened out and pointed a threatening finger right at Katsuki’s chest. “You will sit your ass down right now and listen to me very, very carefully. Katsuki Bakugo or so help me, I will lose my damn mind.”
Katsuki opened and shut his mouth like a gaping fish before he landed heavily onto the wooden plank of the swing, the haunted wailing of the rusted metal chains slowly filling the stunned silence of Izuku’s declaration.
Once Izuku had deemed Katsuki appropriately shocked he strode forward and knelt down in front of him, one hand on his propped knee and the other settling on Katsuki’s ankle. “You with me? Or do you want another minute to get over your full government name being pulled out at twelve fifty?”
Katsuki shook his head, “With ya, nerd.”
Izuku nodded. “Alright, here goes.” He shuffled forward and caught Katsuki’s eye, “I love that you remind me of flowers that are pressed between the pages of my favourite book and of coffees in the morning when the sun is barely up and I feel like death has crawled over me.”
Wait. What.
Katsuki inhaled sharply and jerked in Izuku’s hold, “What are you doing?”
“I love that you remind me of the smell of fresh grass after a good rain and the scent of pine and wood-”
Katsuki bit his cheek and tried to stand up, “Izuku- stop-” Izuku simply pushed Katsuki into the swing and continued on as if he wasn’t interrupted and was hell bent on showing Katsuki a love he didn’t deserve.
“-and the smell of oranges and citrus from when we tried to make the world’s most sour drink because you said you could handle anything even though you spat just about everything we made onto my face and called it a sour disaster.”
“Izuku stop. Please- this isn’t-”
“I love that you remind me of the sharp taste of blood and the heady smell of cinnamon and the sound of a slow beat in a jazz song. And of burnt chestnuts, from the time you tried roasting them in your hand and burnt basically all of them because you were convinced you would get it right the first time.”
Katsuki’s eyes well up and he tries to stop Izuku, pushing a hand against his mouth and feeling his lips move against his skin. He tries to stop him from spilling his heart out in a shitty park in the middle of the goddamn night but Izuku is not swayed, he simply reaches up and gently pries Katsuki’s rather lax hand from his mouth and presses a kiss inside his wrist. “I love you Katsuki Bakugo, from the moment you decided we would conquer the world, to when you apologised in the rain, to when you gave up your life for me even when I desperately wanted to make sure you never would do so ever again. I loved you when the ink first stained my wrists and I love you still when you think you don’t deserve me.”
Izuku reaches up to swipe the tears away, catching them as they fall down Katsuki’s cheeks and the sobs he keeps swallowing begin to choke him. Izuku raises Katsuki’s hand to his lips and kisses the skin like it’s something reverent.
Perhaps to Katsuki it wasn’t but to Izuku Midoriya they were the hands of his soulmate who gave his life and his love like a silent sentry, never asking for anything in return.
Katsuki hiccups and chokes out, “You cannot forgive me this easily. Don’t do that. Please. Just- be mad at me or something.”
Izuku simpers, “Do you think my anger will soothe your guilt or will you add it to your growing list of reasons why you don’t deserve me, Kacchan?”
His words are just as sharp as the green that stares into his soul and Katsuki chokes on his words and swallows down his excuses. Izuku, sensing a crack in Katsuki’s stubborn exterior, shuffles impossibly closer and leans forward to kiss his cheek, catching a stray tear. Katsuki, finally worn down, allows him his affection.
Izuku spares no space as he drops kiss after kiss, small and hard ones on his face, his closed eyes, cheeks, chin, eyebrows and the corner of his lips. Katsuki gets his breathing under control and finally looks up at Izuku with something akin to fascination.
And Izuku knows he’s won when Katsuki reaches for his hand and says, “I love that you remind me of sunflowers and the smell of rain.” His eyes water but he smiles and leans forward to bump his nose against Izuku’s, “I love that you remind me of old books and little puppies that need a good smack on the nose from time to time.”
Izuku whines out, “Hey!”
“I love you, Izuku.”
Izuku’s smile could light up the world with how brilliant it was, he leaned forward a few more inches so he could speak his promise against Katsuki’s lips, “I’ll be your shield Kacchan, for as long as I’m alive. I swear it.”
Katsuki murmured, “And I swear I’ll love and cherish you just as much as you do me, if not more.”
And Katsuki could happily say he kissed the argument right off Izuku’s lips.
“Hey Zuku, where is everyone? It’s way too quiet tonight.”
“It’s bingo night Kacchan. The neighbourhood takes it way too seriously.”
“... wanna go scare some teens near the parking lot?”
“God I love you.”