Chapter Text
The second time they met, Katsuki realized the gravity of his mistake.
He'd gotten lost in that fucking forest again. The last time he'd escaped it, his men had sworn up and down that he was lucky to have made it out alive. That the beasts of the Lord's Forest—the guardians of the heathen Forest God Izuku—ripped the unworthy apart and fed themselves and the forest with their corpses.
He knew he should have died. He knew those gods walked the earth and heard the plight of their people. Katsuki was absolutely a plight on the people of Dagobah. He'd considered what unfathomable good he might have done to have survived—to be found by that ridiculous healer and get nursed back to health instead of nourishing the domain of his enemy with his blood.
He'd prayed. In what he'd thought were his final moments, he'd begged to survive. As he bled into the forest floor, he'd asked any deity who would hear him to spare him.
Had a heathen god taken mercy on him and delivered him to a crackpot in the woods? A hubristic fool with a kind smile who had patched him back together and sent him on his way?
He should have died.
He was almost certain he was going to die this time. He hadn't even intended to enter the forest but before he knew it, it had surrounded him. Almost like it had chased him down.
The beasts were certainly hunting them down but as soon as he'd seen their outlandish size, he'd realized where he was. He cursed his luck (and his map, and his compass) but sprang into action.
He'd been given a second chance at life, and he wasn't going to waste it. He had more to do—more battles to win, more lives to save, more world to see. He wouldn't go down without a fight, and fighting was his calling.
As he fought through, he sought out the clearing. That peaceful place where no evil or terror seemed to lurk. He'd been fighting for hours—hiding in trees sprinting through underbrush in between boughts.
There were shit-tons of guardians, and he was getting exhausted. They were strong and furious. The most he'd been able to do was stun them—hitting them hard enough that they'd stumble back in a daze.
Until he slashed his sword down at a fucking squirrel the size of a bobcat with a glowing gold insignia between its eyes.
Its head rolled across the forest floor and for a brief moment he was completely relieved.
But then the forest it self had turned violent. The trees shook and swayed until their roots pulled from the ground and they crowded him—leaves and branches flaying like whips—trunks thudding to the ground around him as though trying to crush him.
Vines held him down, no matter how hard he hacked at them—tendrils sharpening and piercing through his skin until he hung like marionette from his hands and shoulders and legs. He had no idea how long he dripped blood onto the forest floor but he could feel himself fading.
"You enter my domain and kill my denizens after the kindness I paid you?" a cold voice demanded. Katsuki looked up, lightheaded from blood loss and eyes unfocused. "I should have let you bleed out."
"Deku," he gasped, recognizing him after a moment. He looked different. Where he'd looked calm and peaceful in the clearing, he looked vengeful here in the dark of the forest. His eyes shone, and his freckles seemed to glow like stars. His hair cast off backlight like a radial crown. "Please," he begged.
"You begged last time too, when you were returning from slaughtering my subjects," he hissed. "I took mercy, because in death your mind opened. But in life it closed again."
The green-haired man held up a hand, then slowly clenched his fist before him. Katsuki watched in awe as his eyes glowed brighter and his crown grew an umbra—sucking in light and leaving a shadowed halo behind. Then wailed in pain as the vines twisted through his wounds in retribution.
Then he understood. He'd read the talisman wrong that day.
Deku the Healer was a farce.
The man before him was the God himself—Izuku, Lord of the Forests and Protector of Life.
"I didn't know," he hissed. "I didn't even want to be here! Your fucking forest followed me, I want nothing to do with it. I just sought passage home!"
"If you crossed our borders with no violence in your heart, my forest would not have taken you," Izuku snapped back, squeezing the vines tighter and relishing the wails of his captive.
When his grip eased, Katsuki slumped in his bonds. He was silent for a long while, and Izuku didn't seem to mind—preferring his silent death to his loud struggle for life.
Katsuki's pride held his tongue. He saw the trees strengthen as they fed on his life, but he would not cheapen himself by begging again.
He hoped Eijirou wouldn't search for him for too long. He and Mina, his beautiful Dagoban betrothed, deserved to settle down. Deserved to have their children in peace.
He hoped Hanta would court the son of the Todoroki clan. He denied himself happiness in the pursuit of war. He hoped he would pursue happiness now that they were at peace.
He hoped his mother wouldn't cry, and that his father would support her. Maybe they could produce a new heir. Someone to take on their mantle as the proudest leaders of Mustafu.
His heart sank. He knew they wouldn't. They were too old now. His kingdom would turn to another's' hand. The uncertainty would break them. His pride had no place in the arena when his fight was for his people. For his parents and friends. His brothers in arms who had fought beside him and would waste years searching for him if he did't return.
"There is always violence in my heart," Katsuki admitted quietly. Izuku's eyes snapped to his. "I am a warrior. By blood and by trade. But our lands are at peace despite our differences, so my violence remains sheathed unless it's confronted. Izuku," he said. The god jolted as his name spilled over bloody lips. "Your forest confronted me when I meant it no harm. I only fought to see myself home. I will not beg. But if you give me another chance, I will afford you and yours a wide berth. Unless my people are at risk, yours will not come to harm by my sword again."
The vines loosened and the god looked surprised. "What is your name, warrior?" he asked as the vines receded.
He slumped to the forest floor—boneless and pained. But the god who had shown him mercy had asked him a question.
"Katsuki."
The god lifted him, and Katsuki was filled with warmth. "You have gained my forest's forgiveness, Katsuki. Do not waste it."
All of a sudden, he could barely keep his eyes open—his tongue felt loose and his mind felt numb. As the Lord of the Forest carried him, he seemed to glow brighter; banishing the shadows with each step.
"I was looking for you," Katsuki slurred. "When the forest turned on me. I looked for you, Deku. You feel like peace."
Beneath his ear, the god's heart thrummed. "You found me," he whispered. "And I hope you find peace someday, too."