Chapter Text
When they were five, eighteen felt impossibly far away.
Childhood has a cruel way of convincing you that forever is only a few summers away. You don’t realize it then, but you’re living days you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to remember.
Everything felt permanent. Every goodbye was followed by another hello. That's simply how childhood worked. Or so they believed.
Looking back, they had been happiest before they understood loss. Before hospitals smelled more familiar than crayons. Before scraped knees felt like the most pain they’d ever endure.
Some stories don’t begin with a tragedy.
They begin with dirt beneath tiny fingernails and laughter louder than the cicadas, with grass stains on the backs of their shirts and afternoons that seemed too ordinary to remember…until they became the memories they treasured most.
With three little boys who believed the world would always make room for them.
None of them understood that ‘forever’ was the easiest promise to break.
“Kacchan! Wait up!”
“You’re too slow, Deku!”
“You’re both going to trip yourselves!” Shoto called after the pair.
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki turned around, sticking his tongue out at Shoto, “you’re just jealous you can’t ever be the best like me! Now come on, guys! The last one to the bridge is a rotten egg!”
All three boys strained their little legs, band-aids on knees, trying to outrun the others. Katsuki's sneakers kicked up dirt as he bolted toward the bridge, Izuku stumbling after him with an outstretched hand while Shoto sighed before breaking into a run.
Nothing was ever hurried in Yufuin. Time drifted slowly there, unconcerned with clocks or traffic. The mountains stood quietly in the distance, watching generations of children grow up beneath them.
Every day the sun was brighter, the boys raced to each other's houses, ringing doorbells and heading out on adventures like they were the kings of the world.
Because today was a big day for them, today they would make dreams come true.
“Hah! Beat you both!” Katsuki laughed, throwing both fists into the air and jumping three times.
Both boys do the same three jumps after. A rule they made, everyone must jump three times before passing the bridge. Once for Katsuki, once for Izuku, and once for Shoto.
“Yeah? Well I was right behind you!” Izuku stepped forward, hands on his hips, “just wait, one day I’ll beat you to the bridge!”
Katsuki puffed out his chest, Izuku crossed his arms refusing to back down. Before either could get into one of their cat fights, Shoto stepped neatly between the pair, “Alright! Head count. One,” he points to Katsuki, “two,” he points to Izuku, “Me. Ok, everyone’s here. Now, who brought the notebook?”
Katsuki and Izuku looked at each other.
Silence.
“...You brought it right?” Izuku asked.
Katsuki frowned, “...I thought you brought it.”
Shoto instantly sighed, reading the room, “typical.”
“It’s not my fault!” Izuku stood his ground, “Kacchan rang my doorbell and ran straight off before I could slip my shoes on!”
“Yeah? Well, you should’ve remembered, idiot! Now we don’t have anything to write on!” Katsuki shot back.
Shoto sighed, already in the middle of an argument, “relax, you guys. We don’t need a notebook,” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded blue paper, the corners softened from being stuffed into his pocket, “I have this…”
The trio crowded around, three heads blocking the sun as they looked down at Shoto’s palm.
They were silent. Which, for three five-year-old boys, was practically impossible.
The crickets chirped loudly by the river until Katsuki stumbled back, clutching his stomach in laughter.
“What is that piece of crap? You dragged us all the way here for that?”
Shoto rubbed his temples, exhaling through his nose, “do you have a better idea, Bakugo?”
“Be grateful Shoto even brought anything since you’re the one who forgot,” Izuku stepped in front of Shoto, his cheeks puffing out in protest.
“It’s your fault too!” Katsuki got on his tiptoes, trying to make the height difference bigger than it was, “you’re half the reason we have to use that blue crumpled piece of garbage!”
“Hey—”
“Enough, guys.”
The boys spun around so quickly they nearly tripped over their own feet, jaws dropping as they realized Shoto had already crouched down and started writing the list.
“Move!” Katsuki pushed Izuku out of his sight. “I want to write the first goal!”
“No! It was Shoto’s idea! He should get to write the first one!” Izuku nudged his way in the middle, accidentally elbowing Katsuki in the nose.
“Shut up, nerd!” Katsuki narrowed his eyes, shoving him back, “I have the best ideas out of all three of us!”
Katsuki and Izuku glared at each other, neither willing to move.
Shoto watched them for a moment.
“Calm down,” Shoto poked the blonde with the eraser of his pencil. “We can all take turns.”
Katsuki opened his mouth to argue.
Closed it.
He crossed his arms, clearly fighting against every instinct he had.
“Fine! But I call dibs on writing the next one!”
None of them knew it then, but that crumpled piece of blue paper would become something they carried with them for years.
It wasn't anything special. It wasn't expensive or carefully made. It was just a list of things three five-year-old boys wanted to do before they grew up.
A bucket list.
At the time, they didn't understand the meaning behind those words. To them, it was simply a promise that there would always be another adventure waiting.
Shoto hovered the pencil above the paper.
"Okay. First goal?"
The three boys leaned closer, voices overlapping as ideas spilled into the afternoon air.
Some were impossible.
Some were ridiculous.
Some they would forget about by tomorrow.
But they wrote every single one down anyway.
The paper already carried the evidence of three pairs of hands. Wrinkles from being passed around, fingerprints smudged into the edges before the first word was even finished. Katsuki crossed out Shoto’s ideas, Izuku crossed out Katsuki’s, and Shoto spent the afternoon trying to keep them from ruining the list before it had even begun.
“Come on!” Katsuki shoved a palm in Izuku’s face, reaching for the pencil, “eating ten popsicles in a day sounds awesome! Let me add it!”
“No way!” Izuku held the pencil out of his reach, “you’re only saying that because you know I get a bad brain freeze!”
“Uh, duh!” Katsuki snatched the pencil, “that’s the best part!”
Shoto watched the two of them fight over the pencil, already knowing he would have to rewrite half the list later. He snatched the paper before either could rip it.
“You guys!”
The blonde and the greenette simultaneously raised brows, pausing in their awkward position.
“Come on,” Shoto shook his head, “this is supposed to be fun. We can all include ideas, so will you two just stop it?”
Katsuki and Izuku glance at one another. They had done nothing that afternoon except fight and give Shoto a headache.
So finally, after what felt like forever, eyes were rolled, backs were turned, and three boys crowded over a blue crumpled paper filled with dreams they truly believed would last an eternity.
“You know which one my favorite is?” Katsuki stole the paper from Izuku’s small hands, creasing it more than it needed in its current condition, “I like the one about getting to black belt at 11 years old. I’ll obviously beat you both!”
“Not if I make black belt at 10!” Izuku retorts back, not daring to blink from the blondes' red piercing glare, even though he was visibly shuddering.
“Guys we’re all good at Shotokan Karate,” Shoto assures them both, neatly taking the paper from Katsuki’s bandaged knuckles. He gripped either end, smoothing it as best as possible.
He sat between them, little legs dangled from the bridge too high up above the rocky current. Every afternoon, regardless of how their days went, they sat in the same order. Katsuki on the left, Shoto in the middle, Izuku on the right.
The sun began to set, allowing the day to begin to rest, embarking them on new beginnings as it bled into night.
Shoto twisted the pencil in his hands, now chipped and holding onto the last piece of lead since they kept breaking it, “I think this bucket list needs rules.”
“Tch, rules?” Katsuki leans back on his palms, cocking a brow at Shoto, “that takes the fun out of it.”
“Not like that,” Shoto turns his two colored eyes down at the page littered in three different scribbled handwritings. One neat, one written like a tornado, and one that changed every five words. Small rips already forming on the edges, “more like…promises.”
“What type of promises?” Izuku leans onto Shoto’s right shoulder.
“Well, these are goals. Goals should have some type of end point. How else would we achieve them?”
“Get to the point, half and half,” Katsuki sighs, fluttering his bangs with his breath, “you always take forever explaining.”
“What I mean is…” Shoto holds the page up, testing how the sun pierced through the thin sheet, “let’s make our end goal that we’ll complete this bucket list before we’re all 18. I’m the youngest, so let’s make the goal…January 11th, on my 18th birthday.”
“Pfft,” Katsuki eyes a pebble, snatching it, “you seriously believe it’ll take us what…” he counts on his fingers slowly, accidentally missing a number and starting over, “13 whole years to achieve the list? Maybe for Deku. But for me? Give me a day.”
Izuku grunted, “one of the goals you wrote said to ride a rocket ship and go to the moon! I’d like to see you do that in a day!”
“Yeah, nerd,” Katsuki turns the pebble in his palm, tossing it as Izuku’s chest, “and I’ll do it!”
“Hey!” Izuku takes the pebble, “don’t you throw things at—“
“—I’ll throw whatever I want!”
“Guys,” Shoto elbows them both, letting out a deep sigh, “I’m adding something.”
Both boys instantly shut up, leaning in close, heads touching, “property of: Katsuki, Izuku, and Shoto?” The blonde squints, “you really think anyone would want to steal this trashy piece of-”
“It took us all of one afternoon to finish,” Shoto drums the pencil against the creaky bridge, “besides, if we plan on finishing this by 18 we can’t lose it.”
“Maybe we should sign our initials!” Izuku gasps, eyes wide and glowing.
“What are you?” Katsuki shoves over Shoto just to push Izuku, “one thousand and a million years old? We don’t have signatures!”
“Shut up, Kacchan!” Izuku glows red in embarrassment, shoving him back.
Shoto holds both arms up, blocking them from each other, “quit it! You’re both hitting me,” he snatches up their dirty pencil before it rolls into the river, “now, I’ll sign my S.”
“Me next!” Katsuki plucked the paper and pencil scribbling a ‘K’ right before the ‘S’.
“Ok! My turn!” Izuku adds an ‘I’ right after both letters.
“Tch,” Katsuki smirks down at the paper, “should’ve made it ‘D’ for Deku.”
“That’s not my name!”
“Yes it is, Deku–”
“That wouldn’t have worked anyway,” Shoto cuts him off, pointing to the railing of the wooden bridge, “when we carved our initials it’s always been ‘KSI’.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki stands from his position on the bridge, “now come on, let’s go race to the mountains before it gets dark!”
“It’s already dark!” Izuku argues, but stands to race anyway.
“You’re just scared!” Katsuki doesn’t waste another second as he bolts off.
Three boys chasing after the other. Running through narrow roads with small cafes and family-run shops. The breeze reminding them of the comforting scent of home. Fresh bread, cedar wood, and mineral hot springs. They ran until they reached emerald forests, leaves whispering whenever the wind ran through them, the rivers shimmered like polished glass.
They chased through summer fields of wildflowers and cicadas, children rode bicycles, neighbors greeted one another for dinner. The mountains stood patiently in the distance waiting for the boys to discover everything they could ever be.
“I’m the King of the Mountain!” Katsuki declares, placing his palms on his knees, and catching his breath once they reach the edge.
All three of them took a moment. Heavy little breathing, sweat beading on their necks, legs tired from all their adventures today and finally reaching somewhat of a stopping point.
“Hey, I won again,” Katsuki holds his arm up in a flexing way, even though all of their arms were skinny with no muscle, Katsuki believed he had some, “both of you owe me a Snickers Bar.”
“I thought we decided that rule was over!” Izuku swatted at mosquitos, threatening to bite his arm.
“You only say that because you always lose!”
“Come on,” Shoto grabs their collars, making them continue on their walk. In the same order it’s always been. Katsuki on the left, Shoto in the middle, Izuku on the right, “this way.”
“Hey, you’re going the wrong way!” Katsuki jokes, breaking down in a fit of snickering.
Even Izuku had to cover his mouth to stop himself from bursting into laughter at the inside joke.
“That was one time!” Shoto holds up a pointer finger at him.
“Yeah and it was hilarious!” Katsuki backs up and clears his throat, impersonating Shoto, “I’m Todoroki! Guys, I want to go to the hot springs for a swim! You guys are going the wrong way, it’s this way! Uh oh, I was wrong. Now, we’re at Nana’s Museum in our swimming trunks!”
Izuku and Katsuki bend over laughing and suddenly, Shoto can’t take it as he doubles over doing the same. Their laughs echoed near the mountains, scaring off birds, awakening the little animals.
“Hey, whatever!” Shoto laughs, elbowing the blonde and walking ahead, “I want to add one more thing to the list.”
“Well then the number will be uneven!” Katsuki quickly kicks off the grass to catch up.
“But this goal will be one we will share,” Shoto tells him.
“Well, what is it?” Izuku peers down at the page, expecting it to magically appear.
“I haven’t written it yet. But neither of you will know what it is until we’re 18,” Shoto rounds the corner of the mountain trail, heading for the bench they always rested at.
“Yeah, right,” Katsuki climbs onto his left side, “you think I’ll wait that long? I’ll just look at the bottom of this blue crumpled piece of crap.”
Izuku climbs onto his right, “yeah, I don’t know if I can wait to see the final goal. That’s like six thousand years away, Shoto.”
“Well, let that be your motivation to complete our goals,” Shoto reaches into his pocket, digging through all the little things he kept in there. Finally finding what he was searching for, he holds out a purple pen with a clear top.
“What’s that?” Katsuki leans forward, cocking a brow at the mystery pen.
“It’s an invisible ink pen,” Shoto holds it up proudly, clicking the light on the end, “whatever is written, stays invisible. You can only see it if you shine the light over it.”
“Oh, sick!” Katsuki reaches to snatch it but gets shoved back.
“We all have to make a promise,” Shoto looks to Katsuki, and then to Izuku, “an important promise.”
“Sounds stupid—”
“—don’t say that, Kacchan-–”
“—don’t tell me what to do, Deku!”
“Ok,” Shoto uncaps the invisible ink pen, “I’m writing it.”
He leans over the crumpled page, neatly jotting down the final goal, solidifying their bucket list forever in invisible ink. The blonde and the greenette try and fail to see what he was writing.
Katsuki grunts, crossing his arms, “I didn’t even want to see it anyway. It’s probably stupid.”
“I think this pen is cool, Shoto!” Izuku stares in awe once he finishes.
“Now,” Shoto folds the paper up, smushing it into his pocket, “everyone put your pinky in the middle. Promise me we will all wait until my 18th birthday to see the invisible ink.”
“But you already know what it is!” Katsuki retorts, “how is that fair?”
“Just put your pinky in, Kacchan!” Izuku holds out his smallest finger, right beside Shoto’s.
The blonde rolls his eyes, scoffs, and then finally places his finger in the middle as they all linked on it.
Three pinkies hooked together beneath the summer sky, each believing eighteen was a promise they would all keep. Waiting thirteen years suddenly seemed like the easiest thing to do.
Forever still only felt a few summers away.
Because some promises are easy to make when you're five.
Their pinkies stayed linked long after the promise had already been made.
None of them let go first.