Chapter Text
Izuku’s nerves are shot, his shoulders hiked up far enough they threaten to graze his ears. With every step farther into Katsuki’s territory, he grows more anxious. The tribe’s archives state outsiders cannot remain, however, there’s no written rule that specifies Izuku couldn’t become a member himself.
He is absolutely prepared to become a member of the Bakugou Tribe if it means staying with the love of his life. The idea of never seeing Katsuki again makes Izuku feel as if he’s dying. Yet unpleasant worries ricochet in his mind. What if Katsuki’s parents do not take kindly to the news? What if, after everything, they refuse to let him assimilate? What if all of this is little more than wishful thinking on their part?
The last thing Izuku desires is for Katsuki to get into trouble. He doesn’t want to cause strife within the tribe. It wouldn’t be fair. Katsuki’s already risked so much.
But Izuku doesn’t want a life without Katsuki in it, either.
Hair raises on the nape of Izuku’s neck, sensing the eyes of Katsuki’s brethren before he sees them. He forces himself to remain calm and not activate Blackwhip in defense. Four tribesmen emerge from behind looming, serrated rocks, armed with aggressive auras and drawn bows trained in their direction.
Not that he would, but Izuku doesn’t even have to seek shelter in Katsuki’s shadow. Within a fraction of a second the man’s standing directly in front of him, feet planted and arms crossed.
“Stand down,” Katsuki barks with authority and Izuku watches while the weapons lower without hesitation. “He’s with me.”
Disbelief crosses their already bewildered features, their eyes bulging. It’s clear this hasn’t happened before and they aren’t sure what to do. Do they honor their laws or defy their leaders’ only son?
A colossal man with teeth sharpened to points walks closer, arrow still in hand. “Kat, what’s going on? Outsiders are prohibited from touching this very ground. You’d allow one into the village?”
“Yes.” Katsuki’s posture and tone leaves no room for argument. “I’m taking him into the throneroom.”
Audible gasps echo throughout the vicinity, each of his brethren glancing at one another in shock. One almost drops his weapon entirely. “But you can’t,” the dark-haired man with blood-red irises insists, drawing near enough to cup Katsuki’s forearm with a firm squeeze. “This defies our laws-”
“Some laws are meant to be broken, Ei.”
Izuku recognizes that name. This…this is Katsuki’s closest friend! Concern contorts Ei’s countenance especially when the tension spikes and three bows are redrawn. “We can’t let him in, Kat,” he grits out, pain dripping from every word. “You know that.”
“Izuku,” Katsuki prompts, never looking away from the others, “remove your cloak.”
Assuming it's to demonstrate he’s unarmed – which he is – Izuku slips off the fabric and drapes it over the crook of his elbow. Katsuki searches for Izuku’s hand, guiding him to stand on his right.
His brethren’s previous expressions cannot hold a candle to their now slackened jaws, Izuku convinced they can taste dirt. Their stunned stares are focused on the jewelry resting around his neck, and that’s when Izuku’s understanding catches up to Katsuki’s intentions.
“So you see,” Katsuki challenges with a glare, “if you harm him, my wrath will descend upon you tenfold.” Sparks dance in his open palm menacingly. “I don’t give a fuck if I’ve known you my entire life. I’ll crush your skulls and watch your blood paint the earth if you touch a single hair on his head. You will let us pass to speak with the Chieftains. This isn’t a suggestion. It’s an order.”
Spines uncomfortably straight, they all step aside, revealing the seemingly hazardous pathway that apparently leads to the Bakugou Tribe’s village. A silent look is exchanged between Katsuki and Ei, one that promises they’ll speak about this later – with words or fists, Izuku isn’t sure.
Katsuki mutters, “He’ll be fine,” apparently reading Izuku’s mind. He gives a gentle nudge forward, lips upturning when they’re out of earshot. “They might be idiots but they mean well.”
The two brave rough terrain, harsh sunlight beaming down on their skin. Izuku’s legs burn from the uphill journey, relieved when Katsuki blasts them over pitfalls and giant, hazy cracks in the earth. Not terribly far from their run-in with the tribesmen, Izuku notices a significant slope, the clay beneath their feet giving way to a substance much darker, black rocks overtaking the landscape. And Izuku absolutely knows what it is.
It’s volcanic soil.
As they climb higher, it’s clear the rumors are true. Katsuki’s tribe dwells on a volcano! It isn’t as massive as Izuku envisioned, but there’s no other explanation for this topography. There’s a mountain range here, all right, but…but he’s…
He’s walking on top of a volcano.
Izuku’s in such awe that he barely notices Katsuki dismissing another pair of guards when they approach a cliff. A massive stone structure rises toward the sky, similar to an oversized Torii gate. Katsuki gestures toward it.
“Welcome to my home.”
Perplexed, Izuku approaches the edge and peers down, incredibly surprised by what he finds. It’s…it’s green. A sea of healthy trees stretches as far as the eye can see, a narrow pathway of smooth stones guiding him onward. His legs might be moving at a snail’s pace but his head whips around in utter disbelief. The grass is lush and – Izuku squints into the distance, the sound of rushing water tickling his ears – is that…a waterfall?
“Not what you expected, eh?” Katsuki gloats, drawing him into his side.
“I’ve heard of this phenomenon yet I wasn’t prepared to see it,” Izuku admits, entranced by their surroundings. “One side of the mountains dry and barren, another brimming with life. It’s incredible.”
“You’re damn right it is,” Katsuki agrees, an obvious fondness coloring his tone. “The soil here’s packed with nutrients, making it incredibly easy to maintain our gardens. Fresh water flows continuously because the rocks store rainwater underground. Many animals dwell here, resulting in fruitful hunts. We’re proud to call this place home.”
Everything falls into place. Izuku wholeheartedly understands why they so fiercely protect the area. Why they keep it shrouded in mystery. People would kill for this land and its resources.
Katsuki leads him down a winding trail through broad tree trunks, and before long, Izuku distinguishes giggling in the distance. They emerge from the pathway into a clearing inhabited by what must be other members of the Bakugou Tribe. Children are running around, chasing one another and roaring with laughter. A large firepit burns, the scent of sizzling meat permeating the air, several men tending to the flames. Wooden houses are scattered about, Izuku able to discern they are sturdy and well-made, even from here.
Izuku wasn’t expecting any of this but it actually explains so much. The Bakugou Tribe is more advanced than Izuku anticipated.
After they’re spotted, background noise falls silent, only the sway of leaves and crackle of fire finding Izuku’s ears. It doesn’t last, for a chorus of hushed whispers begin to buzz, every eye in the vicinity trained on them. There are some filled with concern, others curiosity, yet Katsuki leads Izuku forward, the two hand in hand, as though none of it is happening.
Nobody dares to halt Katsuki as they walk, the blond’s chin held high. He moves with purpose and authority, without bothering to glance from side to side. Those that are in their direct path shift without prompting, the onlookers making no attempt to hide their stares. One woman with curly hair and dark eyes audibly gasps, dropping a basket at her feet. Orange persimmons spill out and roll across the grass, Izuku pausing to pick one up. Turning toward the girl whose hands are now covering her mouth, Izuku holds it out with a smile.
Her trembling fingers hesitantly extend to accept the returned fruit. Izuku smiles and nods toward the others, releasing Katsuki’s hand. “Let me help you with those.”
“O-ok, thank you,” she rushes out, bending to rapidly gather and dump the persimmons into the basket. A great deal happens within those few seconds.
Distant shouts ring. Surrounding tribesmen scurry. A spear slices through the wind to pierce the ground at Izuku’s feet.
Katsuki snarls, fire flashing. Another spear is launched and Izuku prepares to intercept it with Blackwhip but Katsuki beats him to it, yanking it out of thin air. “The hell are you doing, you old hag?! Stop that shit before someone gets hurt!”
“Don’t yell at me, you ungrateful brat! You dare to bring an outsider here? You dare to disrespect your father and I this way?!” The enraged voice belongs to the female version of Katsuki – fiery temper, wild hair, aggressive word choices. She stomps closer, a tall, brown-headed man on her heels.
“I’m not here to disrespect you!”
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of you already, brat. You and me, let’s go! Right now!”
His love’s clearly exasperated. “I’m not fighting you, Ma! You’ll probably throw your back out on the first punch!”
Incredulous scarlet eyes narrow. “Oh, don’t you dare-”
She’s silenced by a steady hold on her shoulder, the man Izuku assumes to be Katsuki’s father attempting to de-escalate the situation. He has a kind face. “Dear, let’s give our son a chance to explain himself. I’m sure he wouldn’t do this without justification. Isn’t that right, Katsuki?”
Izuku watches Katsuki’s demeanor shift instantly. Deeming it wise not to speak aloud, the blond merely nods, and Izuku observes the Chieftain's gaze flick toward him, line of sight resting upon Katsuki’s necklaces.
Izuku’s eyebrows raise when he swears the man smiles. Katsuki’s mother is too busy staring daggers at her son to notice.
“Very well, that settles it. Everyone, back to your duties,” the Chieftain instructs before addressing them once more. “Son, and my son’s guest, please follow us. It appears there’s much to discuss.”
Grasp on the spear still white-knuckled, Katsuki’s feet fall into step but not before tugging Izuku close and making his heart flutter. “Sorry about that. I shoulda known my hag was gonna make a scene.”
Izuku fails to smother a snort, laughter bubbling out.
“What? Why are you laughing?”
“I see where you get your attitude from,” Izuku teases, bumping into his side playfully, “and your vocabulary.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised you’d talk shit at a time like this,” Katsuki fires back, ruffling his hair. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. You know anyone else who’d walk into an unfamiliar place unarmed and prepared to change their entire way of life?”
No, as a matter of fact, he doesn’t. Perhaps he is a little crazy. But if that’s a con of being with Katsuki, then he’ll learn to accept and love that too. “You make me crazy,” he admits, pink staining the skin beneath his freckles. “And you’re one to talk! Just today you’ve threatened to kill your friends, led me into your tribe’s safe haven, and argued with your mother. You’re prepared to defy rules that were set long before you were born to be with me. That’s crazy.”
Katsuki suddenly halts, turning Izuku’s chin toward him in one smooth motion. He smiles one of the most beautiful smiles Izuku’s ever seen. “You’re right. Maybe we’re both losing it.” The blond leans down to whisper in Izuku’s ear, “And I’ve got no interest in finding it.”
Full eyelashes flit upward to find two heated pools of crimson that threaten to swallow him whole. And Izuku’d let him. Happily.
Throat clearing has Izuku crashing back to reality. Katsuki’s mother is nowhere to be found, likely having already stormed off to wherever they’re being led. His father hovers a bit farther up the trail and is peering back at them with a raised brow. Izuku spots a large structure in the distance, secluded and more ornate compared to the other homes. It must be where Katsuki’s parents, the Chieftains of the Bakugou Tribe, live. Could it function as the throneroom too?
“Yea, yea, we’re coming,” Katsuki sighs with rolled eyes. “Thought Ma was the impatient one.”
“You’ll have to excuse my intrusion. I was worried I’d be standing here until nightfall.”
A snort is exorcized from Izuku’s nose, Katsuki’s neck snapping toward him in betrayal.
Maybe this won’t be as bad as Izuku imagined.
__________________________
Izuku’s trying his best to remain calm.
Katsuki stares his parents down while they sit upon their thrones, both covered in leather and furs and animal hide, various weapons within arm’s reach and several others likely hidden on their persons. Despite this display, Izuku trusts they’d never truly unsheathe a blade toward their son in earnest. At the root of everything, they’re loving parents. Katsuki’s made sure that he understands that. They have their faults, as all do, but they’d never ignore a matter of this importance – or so his love claims.
But Izuku’s inclined to agree. It’s evident from the attention they pour into Katsuki as he recounts the sequence of events that led them to this point. As he explains how he and Izuku feel about one another. The Chieftains’ mouths never open while Katsuki talks, not even the woman who reminds Izuku so much of her son.
“That’s everything,” Katsuki finishes, tone serious and unwavering. “I’ve told you everything. There are no secrets. No tricks. No lies. Izuku is my chosen partner. I want to spend the rest of my life with him here amongst our brethren.”
His mother runs a few fingers across her forehead before pressing them into her temples and Izuku’s taken aback by the soft voice she adopts. “Katsuki, honey, you know the law prohibits this-”
“No,” Katsuki interrupts, determined to leave no room for misunderstanding. “Marrying outsiders is prohibited, yes, but there’s nothing in the archives stating Izuku couldn’t become one of us – be inducted into the tribe as one of our own.” Ruby irises flit between the two perched upon their thrones. “Pops, Ma…please. I’ve asked you for very little all these years. I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me. Training. Studying. Putting the tribe first. You know I’ve never felt this way before. It’s because my soul’s always been waiting for him. Let Izuku stay. With me.”
Tears pool in Izuku’s eyes, the entire room distorting. His chest suddenly feels much too small for his swelling heart, the organ threatening to burst from its bony cage and present itself as a crude offering for the beautiful man standing next to him. Uncaring that it might make him look like a weakling in front of the Chieftains, water trails down his cheeks in thick tracks, dripping onto the floor. Katsuki notices out of the corner of his eye and tries to wipe the tears away, both of them chuckling when it does absolutely no good.
“Sorry,” Izuku whispers, “I told myself I wouldn’t cry.”
Katsuki beams. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
A sharp inhale catches Izuku’s attention and he finds himself watching Katsuki’s mother who also appears as if she might cry. She squeezes her husband’s forearm. “Masaru, he’s serious.”
Katsuki’s father adjusts the spectacles resting on his nose. His calculating stare intensifies and Izuku’s never felt himself be more thoroughly judged. It’s almost as if the Chieftain is looking right through him, sifting around his insides to determine if his feelings are genuine. If he’s trustworthy. If Izuku’s good enough for his only son.
“What will you do if I deny your request, son?”
The declaration materializes without a second’s hesitation. “I’ll write a new law. One that allows members to join the Bakugou Tribe under special circumstances. I understand that our laws are meant to protect our people, but Izuku isn’t a threat. He’s an asset. Izuku’s strong, intelligent, and kind. His presence will do nothing but enrich this place. Soon, I’ll come of age and ascend the throne. Once I’m Chieftain, I’ll no longer need your permission. And let me make something clear. I’m not interested in hearing any bullshit from either of you. My mind’s made up. I’ve said everything there is to say. And should you choose to prevent me from ascension? I’ll leave and chase after him.”
Ascension? Chieftain? Is Izuku hearing this correctly?! It takes every shred of self-control for Izuku to retain his composure.
The current leader studies the two closely for what could be thirty seconds or thirty minutes from how Izuku’s mind is reeling. Katsuki’s parents exchange glances, communicating without the need for audible words. It’s a long, grueling wait.
“Very well,” Katsuki’s father allows with a nod. “You are correct in stating that our laws do not specifically prohibit new inductees. However, it’s not explicitly stated that this is an acceptable action either. Should you and this outsider choose to be together, certain conditions must be met.”
Izuku can’t breathe, the suspense almost suffocating. Katsuki’s muscles tense, his shoulders inching toward his ears while he holds his tongue.
“Your mother and I will not stand in your way as long as your chosen partner is able to assimilate.” Every eye falls onto Izuku before he’s addressed directly. “Prove your worth, young man. Prove your loyalty. If you are successful, I hereby swear to grant my son’s request and you will become one after you’ve both come of age.”
His pulse is going haywire and Izuku’s concerned he’s gonna faint. Is this…is this really happening? The Chieftains are giving in? This is all he has to do? It…it doesn’t feel real. Izuku already intends to be of use – to prove his loyalty and love for Katsuki. That’s the bare minimum, in his opinion.
It doesn’t dawn on Izuku that they’re awaiting his answer until he’s prompted to speak. “Do you accept these conditions?”
Katsuki’s mother leans forward to watch him closely. Izuku swallows, fists clenching at his side. He’ll do whatever it takes. Anything.
“Yes. I’ll do anything.”
__________________________
Every single day Katsuki watches Izuku in awe, proud.
Proud is an understatement, really.
The nerd’s adjusted to life in the Bakugou Tribe perfectly, excelling despite every trial that’s been thrown at him. Everyone has witnessed Izuku’s proficiency with a sword (something that lit a fire in Katsuki’s belly and made his heart race). They’ve seen how fucking badass his magic is (they were properly impressed). Izuku’s been hard at work tending to the gardens and hunting for game (clearly he’s good at everything). However, Katsuki doesn’t think anything could have prepared him for Izuku with the children.
They adore him.
Over the last several months, Katsuki’s lost count of the number of times “Izuku-sensei” has graced his ears. It doesn’t matter if they’re leaving for watch, preparing a meal, or in the middle of sparring. If a child spots hide or hair of Izuku, they swarm like ants on fallen fruit.
And for good reason.
Izuku has spoken of the world that lies beyond their territory and shown them his maps. Several were instantly inspired and now practice drawing, always eager to show what they’ve created or to hear if they’ve made improvement. The ease with which he teaches the younglings is truly a sight to behold. Whether it's reading, writing, or mathematics, Izuku shines and they follow right along in his footsteps. Izuku-sensei’s patience knows no bounds, his ability to meet them where they are inspiring – so much so that Katsuki and the Chieftains have considered making it his permanent duty, a concept that is unheard of as they all share the workload equally.
But Izuku’s different from the rest. He’s known that from the beginning.
It’s a major reason he’s eager to come of age and ascend to the throne. He’s counting down the moments until his twentieth year draws to a close and he embarks on a new journey, one with new responsibility but also incredible possibility. Katsuki touches his bare chest, a reminder that Izuku wears his necklaces proudly and without reservation.
Thank fuck his ceremony is only an hour away, right before sunset.
Adjusting the blood-red cloak draped over his shoulders, Katsuki observes the ritualistic paints adorning his face within the reflection of clear, blue water. A few months from now, Izuku will have his own ceremony and become an official member of the tribe. Then Katsuki will promptly follow with tying himself to Izuku for the rest of his existence.
He can’t wait.
Incense is carried on the wind, a sign that his mother and father have finished their own preparations. For some reason, in that moment, he’s reminded of how unconditionally they love him and he’s thankful for that. Katsuki can only hope that this continues throughout the upcoming chapters of his life because he’s never half-assed anything and his upcoming roles as Chieftain and husband might make him insufferable.
As he walks toward his parents’ home, Katsuki spots Izuku in the distance, seated in the grass and waiting for the ceremony to commence. He’s surrounded by children, all of them giggling and smiling as he reads to them from a book. Katsuki practically feels himself melting from the inside out.
He’s definitely gonna be insufferable.
It causes him to move even faster.
Time passes swiftly. It's relieving.
He only half listens throughout the ceremony, more than aware of the order of events. Of who says what. The information has been reviewed with him regularly since he was old enough to understand his status within the tribe. His purpose. Crimson searches for green amongst a sea of onlookers and Katsuki doesn’t look away once he finds it.
The scent of jinko perfumes the air while the horizon is painted in hues of red and orange. Ceremonial lanterns are lit, the Bakugou Tribe’s chanting, loud at first, fades into the background of Katsuki’s own thoughts. His parents each give a speech, his pops’ longer than his ma’s. They read ancient scrolls from the archives aloud, reviewing the history of the tribe along with Katsuki’s responsibilities – everything he’s been reminded of and trained for since he was a youngling.
A new cape, one entirely covered in fur of white and gray, is placed upon his shoulders when he kneels before the current Chieftains. Before his people. Before Izuku. Katsuki recites the oath as it’s read aloud, returning to his full height after repeating the final scripted line. The tribe responds in kind, dropping to one knee, their fists pressed into the earth to honor the transfer of power – to honor their new leader.
But Katsuki’s not finished.
His hand stretches toward where Izuku kneels, ready to put a stop to that shit right now. “Rise, Izuku.” His head immediately pops up, green curls falling back to reveal the freckles Katsuki loves immeasurably. “You will not bow before me today, nor any day, for you are my equal. My chosen. The one in whom my heart has found a home. Come.”
Izuku’s verdant stare is comically wide when he stands, all others still facing the ground. He appears hesitant to move.
“Take your rightful place at my side,” Katsuki beckons again. “I won’t finish the ceremony without you.”
His future husband bobs and weaves through rows of people, nerves visibly weighing down his shoulders. Once he’s close enough for Katsuki to reach, he pulls the man into an embrace and whispers, “I need you here. I want you here with me, Izuku. Shoot my arrow.”
“But-” Izuku attempts to protest, yet Katsuki silences his concern indefinitely.
“You are my chosen partner. An extension of myself. We are one. Shoot my arrow.”
And Izuku’s response is everything.
One black tendril materializes, wrapping around the ceremonial arrow resting on an ornate pillow. Another extends to retrieve the bow leaning against the stage. Both are in Izuku’s grasp within seconds, his expression radiant despite a wobbling lip. “We’ll shoot it together.”
Katsuki is confident that idea is even better. “Together.”
Activating his magic, fire materializes in his palm. Izuku holds the arrow within the flames until its tip catches, burning bright and fast. Katsuki shifts to stand behind Izuku while he draws the bow, allowing Izuku to lead while following his motions, the two perfectly in sync. One shared exhale later, their arrow embeds itself into wood, heat engulfing the pile until a bonfire brilliantly burns.
Cheers erupt from their surroundings, though the murmur from Izuku means more than celebratory congratulations and shouts ever could.
“I love you, Katsuki.”
A kiss grazes Izuku’s temple. “I love you too.”
__________________________
A few months later
Katsuki’s hands are steady and true as they prepare paint ingredients for Izuku’s ceremony, both an initiation into the Bakugou Tribe and a coming of age celebration. Completing this places them one step closer to being bound in this life and hopefully all the rest.
Katsuki wants every moment to be special.
He refused to utilize supplies from storage, insisting the pigments be fresh and vibrant, retrieved directly from the source by his bare hands – that they are the best. Izuku deserves nothing less.
So he journeys across the territory to create them on his own.
The Dead Forest, to the untrained eye dark and barren, ravaged by lava flow long before his grandparents were born, houses one of their most precious resources – charcoal. The substance, born from death and destruction, is repurposed by their tribe, fashioned into something beautiful and symbolic. Rebirth. A transition to new life.
Much like how Izuku’s life will be forever changed.
Smashing through hardened lava with a steel hammer, Katsuki digs, sifting through stygian soil until locating a perfect piece. He grinds it for ages with mortar and pestle until rewarded with fine powder, unrelenting when sweat drips from his brow and coats his arms in a sheen.
Yellow ochre follows. Braving the blazing heat, Katsuki takes a page out of Izuku’s book and hikes to The Valley of the Sun. Known for towering rocks that reach toward clear sky, sundrenched and shaded in colors reminiscent of dawn, it’s where they’ve harvested golden pigment for generations. His scrutinizing gaze scans layer after layer until finally discovering an impeccable hue amongst kilometers of clay. Like the charcoal, Katsuki’s muscles work until the ochre is rendered into dust – until it's worthy to paint the eyes of the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
After traveling to the ceremony location, Katsuki’s palm rests against the waterskin tightly secured at his waist, pleased to have taken special care in filling it with sparkling drops from the waterfall Izuku always stares at in wonder. Despite the thirst burning his throat, Katsuki’s unwilling to waste a single drop, choosing instead to crouch and drink from the small stream with cupped hands. It reminds him of how last summer he drank from this same stream in the very same place.
That day he’d had no idea how much things would change for the better.
Splashing his sunkissed face with cold liquid, he rises to survey the area. There’s tall, aged trees that have stood the test of time. A large, moss-covered boulder that Izuku always perched upon when sketching. Plush grass stretches across dirt, the same deep, rich shade that clings to his future husband’s eyes.
Walking deeper into the forest, Katsuki looks upon flowers he’s been hoping and praying would bloom early, the petals finally appearing only a few days ago. Nimble fingers pluck clusters of orange and gold, preparing to weave them with the same grace and love Izuku did all those months ago.
This is the place where they met. It’s where they fell in love. Here is where Katsuki will fashion the paint and welcome Izuku as an official member of the Bakugou Tribe.
It will be a small, private ceremony at Katsuki’s request, with only his parents and a few close friends in attendance. If it was truly up to him, nobody would be present aside from Izuku and himself. However, the agreed upon formality requires specific steps and witnesses, and if it means getting to be with Izuku forever, he’ll happily go along with the rules.
At rest with his spine pressed against Izuku’s boulder, calmed by the drift of flowing water beside him, Katsuki’s fingers begin fashioning the most resplendent set of flower crowns he can manage. He’s been practicing for months, and though the other blooms weren’t quite the same, it all works out anyway.
Sunlight streams through canopies overhead to illuminate the petals. A good omen.
“Today’s the day, nerd,” he whispers fondly into the ether, mindful that wherever Izuku’s waiting, he feels this too – the anticipation, excitement, and love.
Izuku is his forever and Katsuki hopes with all his might that their love is like this circle made of flowers.
Endless.
Infinite.
__________________________
Izuku should be a nervous wreck.
Within less than a full year, his life has turned upside down. He’s gone from a single, traveling cartographer to a lovesick man risking it all to be romantically involved with a barbarian chieftain from an unexplored area of the continent.
A man who’s strong, terrifyingly unafraid of conflict, and a bit rough around the edges, but has shown Izuku more love and care in one trip around the sun than he’s ever experienced. A man he loves so deeply it hurts.
Izuku used to wonder why he always felt the pull to travel. Why he was at peace leaving his home and family behind for extensive periods of time while he explored the unexplored. Until this expedition, he assumed it was simply innate or a passion he’d inherited from his late grandfather. Now, he suspects it wasn’t any of that. That something – whether it be his soul or a higher power – was leading him here to Katsuki. To what he’s always been searching for, even if he didn’t know it.
As Katsuki uses his Quirk to explode them toward the initiation ceremony, Izuku feels complete. This is what he’s longed for since he fell in love. Today’s the next step toward tying himself to the man of his dreams, the other half of his soul, for the rest of his life.
Both arms wrapped around Katsuki’s neck tighten and Izuku takes a moment to burrow his face into the slope of his beloved’s shoulder, kissing the corded muscle as soon as he understands where they’re headed. It should come as no surprise that his future husband is sentimental. The forest where they met and grew to love one another is special to him, too.
When they land onto beds of healthy grass, Izuku sees they’re the last to arrive. Katsuki’s parents and a few warriors – one being Katsuki’s best friend, Eijiro – are already waiting. It’s tranquil, only the placid sounds of nature providing ambient noise.
“Are you ready?” Katsuki almost whispers, watching him intently like he’s searching for any inclination of doubt – as though Izuku might change his mind.
He’d never.
Unable to trust his voice to remain strong, Izuku settles for a sturdy nod and audibly swallows, slipping off his pack until it falls with a thud.
Katsuki answers with a gentle smile. “Let’s get started, then. Remove your shirt.”
Gesturing toward the small crowd opposite them, the blond slowly clenches his hand until it’s a fist. Their steps immediately follow, the witnesses surrounding them in a wide circle. Low hums vibrate through the air, harmonizing perfectly while Izuku sheds his clothing. Though when he places his shirt atop his leather bag, Izuku’s reminded of something incredibly important.
Tossing the fabric aside, Izuku opens the pack and retrieves a roll of parchment from the top, smooth and perfectly rolled. It’s the map he created of the western area Katsuki allowed him to explore. If anyone should have it, he should. The rest of the world doesn’t need to know about this place. Some things truly are best left a mystery, the Bakugou Tribe and their surprising oasis being one of them.
He turns and hands the roll to his future husband who’s eyeing it questioningly. The melody pauses when Izuku speaks, all falling quiet once more. “This is the map I created,” he explains, “the one I charted with you. But…I added onto it, including the volcano and what lies beyond the mountain range. I…” Izuku searches for the right words, fidgeting with his fingers. “I have no intention of showing it to anyone from the outside. I want you to have it.”
Katsuki unrolls the parchment, his studious stare raking over every centimeter before handing it back. “You should keep it.”
“No, I want you to have it,” Izuku insists, pressing it into Katsuki’s sternum.
“I trust you with the map, Izuku – have since I offered to show you around in the first place. How about you hold onto it until we can add it to the archives? It’s a more than worthy addition.”
Suddenly, his throat feels clogged. Clutching the map tightly, Izuku can’t bring himself to look away from Katsuki despite the fact he’s on the cusp of crying. Their witnesses step closer, goosebumps rising on his arms and the nape of his neck when the humming resumes, this time, more intense. Izuku could swear it vibrates the earth beneath his feet.
Katsuki approaches the stone beside Izuku – the very one he wove Katsuki’s flower crown on – and bends to pick something up that’s out of sight. Tears instantly spring to Izuku’s eyes when gorgeous orange petals come into view, fashioned into a flower crown like the one he’d made when he confessed.
He extra cries when he realizes there are two.
“I made these,” Katsuki reveals, handing one of them over. “They might not be as perfect as the one you made for me, but I think I got pretty close.”
Izuku’s hands tremble. “But how-how did you get these?” This flora usually doesn’t bloom until autumn and it’s the dead of summer.
“I found where you harvested the osmanthus from and I’ve been taking extra care of them. We’re lucky they bloomed early. Thought they weren’t gonna make it, if I’m being honest. They must’ve sensed my desperation,” he snorts. “They remind me of us, you know? How our lives are intertwined, how we bring out the best in one another. Fuck, I really wanted this shit. Might’ve blown them up if they didn’t get it together.”
Izuku’s chuckling when Katsuki places the crown atop his curls. Rising onto his toes, Izuku returns the favor, shivering when his beloved’s heated exhale tickles his nose. One palm raises to brush across his cheek.
“Now,” Katsuki prompts in a serious tone, “as much as I love to hear you talk about anything and everything, from now until the end of the ritual, you must remain silent. Understand?” Izuku’s vigorous nod almost throws the crown off his head to Katsuki’s apparent amusement.
Robust hands, those of a warrior, guide Izuku to lay in the soft grass. His future husband, sunkissed and glowing, then receives a paintbrush from his mother and another from his father, intricate details carved along the handles. Kneeling in front of Izuku, Katsuki observes him fondly, crimson irises sweeping from his wild, windswept hair to the map still clutched within his fist.
It’s then Eijirou hands Katsuki a small clay bowl full of powder, something Izuku assumes to be pigment. Even from this angle he can tell one is black – likely charcoal – and the other a vibrant golden shade he hypothesizes was harvested from rocks or clay.
Carefully placing the bowl onto the ground, Katsuki withdraws his waterskin, pouring a few drops in before mixing, methodically repeating this process until the powder is rendered into beautiful paints.
Without warning, Katsuki straddles Izuku, the fabric of their pants barely touching. It causes Izuku’s breath to hitch and a blush to spread from his ears down his chest. His beloved smirks, fully aware of where Izuku’s mind has traveled, but as soon as he reaches for the paint, his demeanor instantly shifts into hyperfocus.
The humming grows louder, now intensified by rhythmic stomping and the beat of a hand drum. Izuku remains frozen, trying his damndest not to move a single muscle while his love spreads natural paint onto his eyelids with diligence, clearly determined to color with exquisite precision. When there’s a short pause, Izuku forces himself not to peek and he’s relieved that he didn’t, for the sensation of another brush trailing over his skin rises higher than before, fanning out to also trace beneath his lower lashline.
He feels the shift of weight along his body, then a stream of cool air follows, an uncontrollable shiver wracking his muscles. “Open your eyes,” is uttered in a way that twists his stomach and curls his toes.
Thick eyelashes flutter open to find Katsuki gazing at him with incredible warmth and pride. Sunlight streaming through the cracks in leafy canopies overhead frames the blond in a golden halo. “Midoriya Izuku, now of age, rising from this earth symbolizes rebirth. Much like cold, frozen soil transforms into expanses of vibrant green, the very moment you stand, your life begins anew. Should you accept this and agree to become a member of the Bakugou Tribe, take my hand. Should you deny this, ignore my hand, remove your necklaces, and wash the pigment from your face.”
Izuku would sooner die.
Before Katsuki takes another breath, Izuku’s touch desperately searches for him. Joy, and what Izuku suspects is a flicker of relief, overtakes the man’s expression, and he’s immediately pulled upright into a tight embrace, a cacophony of sound erupting from their audience.
“I love you,” Izuku sobs, “more than anything.”
“I’m yours, nerd,” Katsuki murmurs, voice thick with emotion, open palms rubbing up and down his spine. “I love you. Now and forever. Endlessly.”
“Endlessly,” he agrees before their lips crash together. “For the rest of this life and every one that comes after.”
