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Katsuki’s life was filled with too much of the colour red.
The ability to see red strings was supposedly nothing to do with quirks, but was something that the firstborn of everyone down his mother’s line had. It was useless as far as being a hero was concerned, and Katsuki couldn’t even summon a passing interest in the oddity of it. He’d be more than happy to ignore it if the things weren’t fucking everywhere.
What did it matter to him which idiots were destined to end up with each other? Besides which, the whole concept of ‘destiny’ rubbed him the wrong way. He was going to be the number one hero, regardless of what fate had in store, and he could do it without anyone’s help.
It was for that reason, and that reason only, it really bugged him that he himself had only the one ‘possibility’. The red bow looped fittingly around his left middle finger and trailed off into the distance, destiny’s way of telling him “Fuck you, you’ve got no choice but this one.”
On the plus side, it was simple enough to shove his hands in his pockets and get on with his life. Some people had a shit ton of the things, wrapping around fingers, hands, wrists, and beyond until their entire left arm looked like some tangled marionette dragged out of someone’s attic, and that would have been much harder for him to ignore. The only digit spared would be the pinky finger. That was reserved for people who had decided on a possibility and let all the others go.
With so many people and so many possibilities, it was difficult to go anywhere without some flash of red out of the corner of his eyes and no wonder he was so sick of it.
The wonder was how, despite his innate hatred of the colour, Katsuki’s closest friend was the personification of red himself. Red Riot – Kirishima Eijirou, who even on top of the shitty hair and the name had about a dozen different strings roped around his left arm. Three of them lead to other people in their class (two of which Katsuki had even deigned to tell Kirishima about) and the rest criss-crossed over in all different directions.
“But it’s so cool you can see them in the first place, dude!”
“Yeah, it’s a real fucking riot.” Katsuki mumbles darkly into his bento, viciously stabbing his chopsticks into the rice.
“I’m serious, it’s not something just anyone can do.” Kirishima grins at him. He’s long since finished his beef bowl from Lunch Rush and is casting suspiciously longing glances at Katsuki’s food. “You’ve got this insight into fate’s grand master plan. It’s like your some agent of destiny or something.”
“’Agent of destiny’, where do you come up with this shit.” Katsuki scoffs, lifting his elbow as an extra barrier against any food targeted sneak attacks. Kirishima pouts at the gesture, but lies back on the grass instead of making an attempt on Katsuki’s lunch, closing his eyes to enjoy the end-of-summer sun. His head is pillowed on his arms making the strings on his left disappear into the red of his hair.
After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “So do you ever think about like, I dunno, doing something about it?”
Katsuki’s reply is immediate. “Nope.”
“Why not?
“First of all, why would I want to play into the whole ‘fate’s plan’ bull crap. Secondly, even if I did want to, what would I do about it? Shove two people in a closet and say ‘congrats, you’re soulmates, work it out’? This isn’t a quirk, people would just think I was crazy if I told them about it.”
“You told me about it.”
“Yeah well, you’re you. It’s different.” He grumbles. Kirishima beams and looks like he’s about to say something else, but Katsuki notices the string on his thumb thicken and swing round and interrupts him. “Heads up, Dunceface is coming this way. Shut up about the strings thing.”
“So cool that you can do that” Kirishima mumbles, but otherwise does as told. When Kaminari’s head pokes through the door, he gets his attention with a full armed wave that uses literally the entire right side of his body.
Kaminari waves back, more sedately than Kirishima, and walks over to them. “Greetings, friends,” he says when he reaches their tree, but makes no move to sit down. “I happened to notice that Kirishima, in his haste to get to his lunch date, only picked up a single Lunch Rush beef bowl.” Kirishima flushes a little and tries to protest that, but Kaminari continues, “No way that will be enough to sustain the actual human black hole that is Kirishima Eijirou through afternoon lessons sooo… tah dah!” He pulls out two packs of bread, one melon and one red bean, and holds them out with a flourish.
“Thank you Kamiii, I love yoouuu,” Kirishima throws his arms around Kaminari’s waist, smushing his face into his hip. Katsuki feels his stomach rise up into his chest at the sight, and he slams the lid back onto his lunchbox with a little more force than necessary as if to push it back down again.
“Yeah yeah, well I’m the one whose grades are gonna suffer if I have to listen to your stomach growling through the sanctioned torture that is English followed by Math, so let’s just call it a preventative measure.”
“Hey! I’m not that bad!”
“My buddy, my dude, my pal.” Kaminari pats him on the shoulder in an only vaguely patronising manner. “I hate to tell you this but as your friend and also the one who has to sit in front of you, you 100% are.”
Kirishima protests and they spend a few minutes grinning and bickering with each other. Kirishima tightens his hold around Kaminari’s middle and tries to pull him backwards, but Kaminari plants his feet in a surprising show of strength and retaliates by fluffing the redhead’s spikes. Katsuki lets their words wash over him and just watches without making it look like he’s watching. There’s nothing particularly unusual about seeing Kirishima like this but somehow he can’t pull his eyes away anytime it does.
Finally they call a truce and Kirishima grabs one of the breads from the ground where Kaminari dropped them in their struggle. He unwraps and wolfs it down in two massive bites, choking slightly when Kaminari leans forward with a grin to whisper something in a voice pitched low enough the Katsuki obviously isn’t meant to hear what he’s saying. He then bids them both goodbye with a “have fun, you two.” From the way his eyebrows waggle Katsuki guesses there must be some joke in there that he hasn’t been paying close enough attention to get.
Kirishima coughs to clear out the last of the bread and wordlessly offers him the second bread (red bean, because of fucking course it’s more red). When Katsuki refuses he eats it with a lot less vigour than the first.
“So what the fuck did Sparky say?”
Embarrassed, he scratches his face with his left hand. It gives Katsuki a perfect view of the knot around his thumb and makes the sick feeling rise into his chest again. “Oh, just that he uh… I should ask you to go over some of the English vocab with me before class? Since I just like… don’t get it at all.”
It’s an obvious lie but Katsuki doesn’t push further, the fact that Kirishima feels the need to hide it in the first place is confirmation enough that Katsuki doesn’t want to know. Instead he sighs, “Get your stuff out, shitty hair. We’ve only got fifteen minutes until class starts.”
They occupy themselves with irregular verbs for the rest of their lunch break, and Katsuki pointedly doesn’t think about “soulmates” again.
~*~*~
Katsuki doesn’t get to distract himself for long. Later that evening, when they’ve finished their homework and holed themselves up in the corner of the common room, Kirishima brings the topic back up.
“So I was thinking.”
“Shocking.”
“So harsh!” Kirishima laughs, “But seriously. I was thinking about our conversation earlier about how you could use the string thing. I get what you were saying but like, maybe you could use it to help our friends? I mean, it’s gotta be difficult to find the one. It’d be pretty manly to help your friends find happiness in a way only you can do!”
Katsuki growls, “Keep your voice down idiot, we’re not exactly alone here.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Kirishima says looking distinctly unapologetic, though his voice is notably quieter.
Katsuki scopes out the room. The closest person to them is Jirou, who’s scribbling intently into a notebook with her earjacks tucked neatly into a pair of giant headphones. Across from her, Sero is watching Kaminari and Ashido struggle with their heads bowed over a Chemistry textbook whilst playing with his phone. On the other side of the room, Uraraka is demonstrating the art of cup ramen to a bewildered looking Yaoyorozu and Todoroki whilst Deku sits on the sidelines. It’s unlikely that they’ll be overheard from where they’re sat. “Let’s say I’m convinced, which I’m not. That doesn’t answer the how.”
“Well, the closet thing wasn’t a terrible idea.” Kirishima grins “But these are our friends, not random strangers, we can talk to them. We don’t even have to mention the strings if you don’t want to.” He pauses for a moment to consider something. “Might even be better to leave that bit out, “you’re soulmates” is a bit of a bomb to drop before the first date.”
Katsuki scoffs, it’s not exactly encouragement but not disapproval either. Kirishima knows him well enough to take it as permission to continue. “Who in our class is a match?”
“I dunno, there’s fucking loads of them. Never paid attention to who’s linked to who though.” Which is true. The only ones he’s ever taken note of are the ones who are linked to Kirishima, and even then he’s not sure when he became aware of it.
“Should of guessed! Anyone in here now?”
After so many years of ignoring the strings, it’s odd to consciously seek them out. Now that he’s looking Katsuki wonders how he manages as much as he does, they really are fucking everywhere. He wasn’t kidding when he told Kirishima there were a shit ton of links between their classmates either. Pretty much everyone in the room has three or four potentials at a minimum, and there are at least as many strings leading from the room’s occupants up through the ceiling towards the people in their rooms as there are leading horizontally out of it. There’s even some passing through the wall between the common room and the kitchen so he can’t see who’s at either end.
But in terms of links within the room... Katsuki can’t help but grimace when he thinks of the three on at his friend’s left hand. Apart from the one that Katsuki pointedly doesn’t think about, there are the two that link his thumb and forefinger to Sparky and Soy Sauce respectively. Kirishima knows about those two, and in any case he obviously hadn’t been asking for himself, but Katsuki’s eyes are drawn two parallel sofas where those two are sitting anyway.
On one, Kaminari has given up on trying to understand organic compounds and has curled up against the sofa back, either sleeping off or crying out the brain strain whilst being idly petted by Ashido. On the other, Sero is still half-looking at his phone, cradling it in a way that makes it so Katsuki’s can only really see his stringless thumbs, but every so often his gaze will flick up to the other sofa, and that motion is what makes Katsuki spot the red line trailing from somewhere behind the phone to a pink hand buried in blond hair. Ashido’s eyes are still fixed on the textbook so she doesn’t notice that her friend isn’t nearly as engrossed in social media as he’s pretending to be.
“Plain face and Racoon eyes.”
Kirishima’s smile is so wide Katsuki can see the sharpness of his teeth actually stops at his molars. His chest twinges a little at the sight of it. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m fucking sure,” Katsuki growls, more to cover the way his breath hitches than actual annoyance. He is certain though, as close as the pair are, the string between them has thickened so it’s obvious even from the other side of the room.
“That’s perfect!” and before Katsuki can ask what he means by that, he’s standing and calling to the other sofas “Yo, Sero! Wadya say to some Smash Bros?”
Sero wastes no time in jumping up to with a cheer, tapping the textbook on Ashido’s lap as she moans about boys playing favourites. Kaminari blinks at the two of them blearily, the look on his face not unlike the one he gets when he literally fries his brain.
“How are video games going to help you set people up?”
“All in good time, Bakubro, all in good time.”
*~*~*
A week and a half later finds them in almost exactly the same spot in the common room, with one notable difference.
“How the fuck,” Katsuki grumbles, “did you manage that?”
‘That’ being Ashido and Sero, where last week the two of them had been opposite each other on different sofas, now she’s lying with her head in his lap, trying to wheedle her way out of algebra. Sero, ever the reluctantly responsible one, is having none of it, but he is petting her fluffy pink hair as he recaps exponents with her. Neither understands the concept so it’s not particularly effective, but even so Katsuki has to admit it’s an adorable scene. Disgusting, but adorable.
Even more astoundingly considering their relationship is only a few days old, the only red between them is the link between their pinkies.
“I didn’t really do anything to be honest.” Kirishima scratches his cheek sheepishly, his index finger now bare where it once tied him to Sero. “I’ve kinda known he’s liked her for a while, and I had a feeling she liked him more than she was letting on. So I just… told him that. It’s a lot easier to give it a try if you have a reason to think you won’t be completely shot down. The rest of it was all them.”
“Are you really ok with that? He was one of yours.”
“Dude, Sero was never ‘mine’,” Kirishima frowns. “But yeah, I’m more than fine with it. I’ve just secured the future happiness of two of my best friends! How can I not be happy with that?”
“If you have that attitude with all of them, you’re gonna run out of options.”
“Actually, that’s kinda the idea.”
“Haah?”
“Well you said before I had a lot of potentials, right?”Kirishima says, wearing the same look of intense concentration he gets when he’s trying to work through a particularly difficult problem on their homework. “Well, obviously I can’t be with them all, but what if their other potentials end up with other people too? I want to make sure as many of them as possible are happy before I settle down. I’d just feel bad about it otherwise.”
“That is one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard,” he says because it is, but it's also just so perfectly Kirishima that Katsuki almost has to force the irritation behind his words. “Do you know how long it would take just to fucking find them all? And what are you gonna do once you do find them? Set them all up and hope number 12 really is the one?”
“I… hadn’t really thought that far to be honest.” he says darkly, flushing slightly under the intensity of Katsuki’s stare. “If I do meet one of them and it feels right then I won’t give them up just because… but look. I’ve known Sero for a while now and it’s never occurred to me to ask him out. Not even after you told me he could potentially be my soulmate. Same with Kami, we were just bros at first sight. Maybe if things had gone differently, but I don’t think our paths were ever going to come together like that in this lifetime.”
Katsuki probably shouldn’t want to smile at the idea that Kirishima is so willing to throw away his happiness. It’s the kind of dumb self sabotaging behaviour that always pisses him off, but he feels an odd rush of warmth in his chest that definitely has nothing to do with annoyance. “It’s your life, do whatever the fuck you want.” he says, with a little extra scowling than might be necessary in case his previous thoughts show on his face.
“Oh well um, I do kinda need your help with this dude. I can’t see the strings myself so…” Kirishima laughs nervously. “I guess to start off with, who else can you see me linked to? Sero’s out, and I know there’s still Kami but is there anyone else?” His face turns red again, and his crimson eyes are fixed on the floor “...in the school maybe?” he adds hesitantly, and instantly a jolt runs through Katsuki, because a reaction like that can only mean one thing.
Kirishima actually has someone in mind.
He ruthlessly pushes that little epiphany down and scoffs. “Ugh, fucking fine.” he says as he tips his head back, fixing his eyes on a blessedly white section of ceiling “I think there’s one other person in school but hell knows who it is. The strings pretty wide and moves around a lot between classes so it’s someone close by.”
Katsuki can practically feel the Kirishima’s stare on the side of his face, but he doesn’t meet his gaze. He doesn’t want to know what the other boy is thinking and if he doesn’t look, then he won’t start trying to interpret his expression. “Is that really it? So there’s no one else you know? Like say, someone else in our class…?” And yep, even without looking Katsuki knows he’s angling for something. Or rather someone.
“Why, you got your eye on someone shitty hair?” Katsuki feels the grimace escape through his carefully neutral expression as he says it, and suddenly he’s especially glad that he’s not looking directly at him. Somehow without him noticing Kirishima had gotten to know him well enough that if he could see him at that moment he’d be able to see the crushing disappointment that tiny slip betrays.
Kirishima makes an odd choking noise, not unlike a cat coughing up a hairball. It’s so weird that Katsuki breaks his silent resolution not to look him in the face instinctually, but fortunately Kirishima seems equally determined to look everywhere but at Katsuki. “Why would you say that?” he asks, which basically translates to ‘yes but I don’t want to tell you that’.
And Katsuki doesn’t want to push the issue either, so instead he says. “Fucking, fine. Yeah there’s one more in our class.”
The transformation from stammering and uncertain to blindingly beaming is instant. “Really? Who is it?”
“Work it out yourself moron.”
“How am I supposed to do that when I can’t see them?” Kirishima somehow manages to look like he’s pouting without losing an inch of his grin.
“Alright, then beat me in an Algebra quiz.” Katsuki grins, challenging. It’s underhanded he knows, because Kirishima would struggle to beat his score in almost any of their classes and Algebra is hands down his worst subject.
“That’s not fair!” Kirishima whines, but he’s still laughing, which makes Katsuki wonder if he realises exactly how serious he is. “I’m never gonna manage that!”
“Not with that shitty attitude you won’t.” Katsuki says, but privately he thinks ‘that’s the idea,’
Because there is no way, absolutely no fucking way, that he’s telling Kirishima that the loop around his left wrist leads him to Deku.