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Sun steadily floated above the horizon and over the elevated seats of an outdoor arena in a brisk spring morning. About a hundred people stood on the arena, all completely straight and still, only their shadows growing shorter to mark the passage of time. Although they were still young, they all had worked too hard on their way to this moment to risk it, aware of how any misconduct would reflect on them even if no authority seemed to be present. Right before entering the field, each of them had been given a bronze crest to attach to their chest. The emblem carried a stylized relief image of a gladiolus flower, the Sword Lily – the coveted mark of a member of the Royal Order of the Sword.
The only problem was that they had been standing there for quite some time. It felt like ages had passed by since a very tired-looking man had handed out the emblems and told them to wait before disappearing to who-knows-where. The sky had changed colour from brilliant red to blue, and with every passing minute, Katsuki Bakugou’s frown had become deeper. It wasn’t the early morning he had an issue with – early to bed, early to rise was his way anyway – but he didn’t like the wasted time. Was this some stupid hazing effort or a half-assed exercise in discipline, making the fresh recruits of the Order wait for an inordinate amount of time? What were they even waiting for?
The answer suddenly became clear when a man emerged from the gates and climbed to the podium. He would have towered over most people even without the added elevation, and he carried an equally massive sword on his back. The weapon was commonly called One for All, a legendary sword that was said to be the only of its kind, one that no blacksmith in the present age would be able to forge. Its wielder’s name was equally famous, usually spoken in reverent whispers or joyous exclamations: All Might.
The man was instantly recognisable for anyone in the kingdom, and the air became electrified as soon as the recruits realised who he was. A hundred pairs of eyes stared at the gigantic man who looked upon them, the blinding intensity of the freshly risen sun behind him making the youngsters squint. He placed his huge fists on his hips and bellowed,
“I AM HERE!!”
Everyone in the arena suppressed a flinch at the sudden sound, some better than others. All Might continued,
“Apologies for my lateness, there were…complications on the way. But that aside…congratulations! You have already shown great promise in the tests, so do not think for a moment that your being here is an accident or a stroke of luck. However! The true training is still ahead, and it will be gruelling at times. Listen carefully: this will be your first and most important lesson.”
A few people adjusted their pose as if it could help them hear better, but no one let out a single sound. All Might slammed a meaty hand against his chest, where he also carried a flower emblem.
“The gladiolus is the mark of a hero. It symbolises strength to defeat any opponent, bravery to stand against unfavourable odds, and moral integrity to follow one’s values even when it’s inconvenient or difficult! These are all virtues essential to those who want to serve in the Royal Order of the Sword.”
The blank expressions on many faces revealed that the advice was not quite what they expected. Katsuki suppressed the urge to scoff. He struggled to see why a flower of all things had been chosen to be the representation of strength and heroic virtues – a flower was the most important lesson, really? Still, it didn't make much of a difference. If it got him where he wanted to be – in the country's most respected and admired order of warriors, mentored by the man of legends himself – he could keep his opinions to himself.
Without noticing, Katsuki's eyes trailed to a boy who was standing nearby and drinking up All Might’s every word like a huge green sponge. Izuku Midoriya, a childhood friend that Katsuki hadn’t expected to see again after setting off towards the capital. Izuku had always dreamt of joining the Order, but he had been obviously not cut out for it: when Katsuki had fought toe to toe with the adult warriors of their village already as a teenager, Izuku was more prone to tripping over his own feet in a sparring match. Katsuki didn’t know what black magic Izuku had used to pass the rigorous exams that potential recruits had to take, but he was intent on putting the upstart to his place soon enough.
Having finished his pep talk, All Might raised his fist in the air.
“From today, we train! To the death, or to the gladioli!”
The recruits mimicked the gesture and shouted the Order motto in unison,
“To the death or to the gladioli!”
During the following months, a slow but imminent change began to occur. Something was different about Izuku – the way he spoke, acted, carried himself. It wasn’t unheard of that Izuku talked back to Katsuki, that had happened plenty before. What was new that now, Izuku sometimes got his way and beat Katsuki. The first few times it happened had been nearly traumatic in how shocking they were, but very slowly, Katsuki began to see them differently. Their clashes began to evoke less dread of humiliation and more a mysterious excitement. Katsuki still taunted Izuku whenever he could, but whenever he executed a particularly successful move in their training, his eyes automatically sought out Izuku as if to confirm: are you watching? Can you do better?
The would never know how things would have ended up if such peaceful days had been allowed to continue.
The reek of smoke and blood was heavy in the air, the dirt lifting off the ground in foggy swirls that clouded the vision. Katsuki moved like a man possessed, blocking attacks and dishing out blows of his own left and right. His heightened reflexes were working overtime as he blocked a weapon appearing from the middle of fog.
It was supposed to be just a simple training mission, guarding the transport of some valuable goods from the capital to a nearby trading point. The task had initially been a non-issue, nearly mundane, and its only redeeming point for Katsuki had been that it allowed him to get outside the capital walls for a change – even if it entailed having to trudge along a heavy carriage. Well, getting a break from Deku’s endless muttering could also be considered a bonus, or so he reasoned with himself. Their relationship wasn’t nearly as volatile as earlier, but the green, freckle-faced nerd still found ways to wreck Katsuki’s concentration. Izuku had been assigned for guard duty in the palace to Katsuki’s mild amusement, but neither of them knew how the simple mission would turn their lives on their heads.
When the trade mission reached a rocky gorge, they were ambushed by a rogue group of outlaws intent on looting valuables and causing chaos in the borderlands. Normally, they were nothing the Order wouldn’t be able to handle, but this time the assailants had brought a trump card: an inhumanly strong monster that seemed completely unaffected by their weapons. All Might was locked in a bitter one-on-one fight with the monster, and even he could barely hold his ground. The other enemies were hardly slacking off, either. A good number of soldiers taking part in the mission were inexperienced in true life-or-death combat, and they struggled to gain the upper hand in the vicious exchange of blows. A messenger called Iida had been sent back to the capital to find help as soon as the conflict had begun, but there was no guarantee he actually had escaped the gorge alive or that reinforcements would be able to make it in time.
In a prolonged battle, Katsuki realised, they would lose.
His head spun around, desperately looking for a solution, and his eyes fell on the creature All Might was fighting. That monster was the key to everything. As long as All Might was stuck fighting it, the tide would not turn to their side. If they could get only one good hit…
Pushing his self-preservation instincts under sheer determination, Katsuki launched himself towards the monster, scimitar at the ready. He propelled himself against the dark giant while aiming his blade at the creature’s side close to its underarm where its hardened skin should be a little bit softer.
Katsuki’s weapon was bounced off of the creature’s flesh as if it had been a wooden stick hitting a stone wall. At the same time, the foolhardy would-be attacker lost his balance and fell on the ground, right at the monster’s feet. Annoyed at the intrusion, it turned around and its pinprick eyes nailed Katsuki in place even as he tried to palm the ground for his weapon. From this angle, there was no way he could get away from the monster’s fist that was preparing to strike down. He had to think of something, had to find a way to win, to survive-
(Kacchan!)
Beyond Katsuki’s field of vision, All Might moved to action. He reached for a reserve of strength humans probably weren’t supposed to have in the first place, and swung One for All high in the air accompanied by a raw battle cry. A fraction of a second later, the giant blade came down on the creature’s head like divine judgement, cleaving through its skull and finally immobilising the beast. The fiendish creation stood for a moment, letting out a strange croak before falling heavily to the ground, just barely missing Katsuki who had scrambled out of the way.
Any spark of triumph that may have flickered in Katsuki’s heart by the monster’s defeat was turned to ice when the legendary sword suddenly cracked with a terrible sound and split in the middle, its wielder falling forward next to his opponent.
Katsuki was immediately back on his feet, having finally recovered his weapon and ready to engage – an unconscious and gravely injured leader was way too open a target for the hordes of enemies still stalking around them. However, just as he stood his ground next to All Might's body, his eyes blazing with a challenge for anyone who dared to test him, he heard a commotion from over yonder. He saw the familiar banners of his homeland, and immediately knew what this meant. The reinforcements were here.
"Took your sweet fucking time," he muttered. The enemies also had worked out what the new arrivals meant. With their greatest asset fallen and suddenly outnumbered, the remaining enemy forces were put in a state of chaos and panic, scattering desperately to escape the battle scene. Katsuki would have liked to get a hostage or two, but the exhaustion in his body kicked in. He let himself fall on the ground in a sitting position, leaning on his scimitar for support and trying to stop his vision from spinning. Even with the deafening sound of blood rushing in his ears, a different sound pierced through.
"Kacchan! Kacchan, where are you?! Kacchan!"
Katsuki frowned at the familiar voice frantically calling his name. It felt wrong. That voice belonged to forests where sunlight filtered through the foliage, to grassy riverbeds, to the smells of the food stalls of a no-name festival of a shitty little town that they called home for so many years. It didn’t belong to the dusty, grimy battlefield that reeked of smoke and rust. And yet, when he heard it, an anxious coil in his stomach immediately began to unwind and tension escaped his shoulders, relaxation making his body slump a bit deeper onto the ground. Irritated at how he was irrationally relieved about damn Deku’s arrival, Katsuki stayed stubbornly silent instead of indicating his location, still leaning his head and hands against the handle of his weapon.
Not that it mattered much in the end; they both seemed to have some eerie sixth sense when it came to the other.
"Kacchan? Are you okay?" Izuku jumped over some crumpled bodies (that had become well acquainted with Katsuki’s sword and fist some time earlier) and hurried closer, squinting his eyes to see through the still-settling dust. His expression went through a variety of emotions: first, relief for seeing that Katsuki was alive and actually raising his head to meet Izuku’s eyes, then a grimace at the blood and filth on him, and then frozen shock when he realised who was lying behind Katsuki.
"He's alive, but not doing so great," Katsuki said before Izuku's mind had time to spiral off into some false conclusions. "We need to get him to safety, help me out." Katsuki stood up, ignoring the vertigo, and began to think of the best way to carry a huge man like their mentor. He hoped the reinforcements had brought plenty of horses and carriages.
"Are...are you sure you're alright? You shouldn't strain yourself too much if you're-"
Katsuki's sharp look was enough to cut Izuku off. Wordlessly, they dragged All Might to the place where the medics had hastily put up a makeshift emergency station, and then split in different directions to find survivors and identify the fallen. The journey back to the capital was long and silent as the grave.
The bells of the city rang with a hollow sound. Streets were unusually empty, as people didn't feel like being out and about. In a square near the royal palace, an enormous pile of gladioli was displayed with a plaque that carried the names of all who were fallen in battle. Funeral ceremonies lasted for hours, and more flowers were brought to the scene.
However, it wasn't only the dead that the people mourned. All Might was indeed alive, but at the same time he wasn't, not in the way that the public needed him to be. Most people didn’t know the details, and rumours spread like wildfire. However, it was generally known that the Symbol of Peace would not be able to return to his position in the Order. The Sword was shattered, people said, and wept. Bouquets of blue, white, and red were placed at the feet of the statue that still stood proud in a beautiful garden avenue, erected some years ago to honour All Might’s great victories.
Katsuki stood in front of the statue. It was so early the street was completely void of people. Night had brought heavy rain, and the puddles here and there reflected the morning sunlight. The flowers were none the worse for the night’s weather, and the statue gleamed like new. The engraving on the base still read in bold letters
TO THE DEATH OR TO THE GLADIOLI
Katsuki turned around, pressing his boot over a stray blue blossom on the pavement as he walked away.
When All Might was conscious and well enough to receive visitors, he summoned Izuku and Katsuki to him. Izuku was visibly nervous, fidgeting and looking anxious as they waited outside the door to be allowed in. Katsuki schooled his face into a neutral expression, but couldn't help the dread in his gut. When the medic opened the door and gestured for them to enter, Katsuki really, really didn't want to go. Of course, there was no way he could just turn back, so he forced his legs to carry him inside with Izuku in tow.
The light in the room was dim, a few rays of the evening sun managing to make it through the small window. The inside smelled of sickness and pungent medical herbs. All Might was sitting in the bed supported by pillows, but he didn't look like himself at all – no, that wasn't right. The man with hollowed out cheeks, pale ashen face, a faint smile didn't manage to light up the room in the slightest... this wasn't All Might. This was just Toshinori Yagi.
“I’m sure…you have heard by now. My time as the leader of the Order is over.”
Izuku swallowed. Katsuki made a fist to stop his hand from twitching. The stranger on the bed kept a long pause before continuing,
“There are difficult times ahead. The rogues have been assembling, growing more organised and more dangerous. We don’t know where that creature came from, but it probably is not the only one of its kind. It is likely that they will strike again soon, now that they believe we are vulnerable.”
Them being considerably worse off than before the incident seemed closer to an objective fact than a belief, but Katsuki refrained from mentioning it. Thankfully, Izuku did the same.
The two youths followed their mentor’s gaze and noticed the pieces of One for All, neatly laid on a side table and cushioned by a deep crimson velvet cloth. The expensive cloth didn’t match the rugged, broken, useless weapon in the slightest, making for a nearly comical mismatch. No one was laughing, though.
"You should take them, one half for each. You have proven time and time again that you have what it takes to become someone who can protect the people of this land. I wish I could have given you more time to prepare for it, but... the time has come sooner than we believed. I will do all I can to guide you on the way, but for now all I can say is: embrace the gladiolus.”
Then, the haggard patient broke into a series of wet coughs and a medic chased Izuku and Katsuki away.
Later, Katsuki thought back to that conversation. He held his emblem in his hands, letting his thumb run over the flower symbol. All Might had told them to embrace the flower, but its meaning was growing increasingly hollow in Katsuki's mind. It seemed to change and warp according to the wishes of whoever was talking at the time, rendering it completely meaningless in the end.
What good was a flower in a battle? What place did a symbol of victory have at a moment of crushing defeat? He read the words etched onto the emblem over and over, to the death or to the gladioli, and the image of the flowers in funeral sites burned behind his eyes. If the words he had pledged his life to had any meaning behind them, how could the flowers be anything but cruel mockery?
A heavy blanket of doubt descended over Katsuki, replaying the fated moments in his mind again and again. He had been right there, so close to All Might, and he had not been able to accomplish anything. If anything, his actions had forced All Might to act to save his life – with how close the reinforcements had been, how would things have turned out if Katsuki had not done what he had done, or if All Might had let him become the unavoidable casualty he probably should have been. Now he had nothing but half of a broken sword to remind him. He knew that All Might had to have a reason behind this gift other than vengeful spite, and he knew better than to disrespect that. Still, right now... the sword felt much more like a punishment, a reminder of a failure that could never be corrected.
Izuku took to wearing his half of the sword strapped to his back like All Might used to. When he was out in the streets, people whispered and pointed, the rumour of the shattered sword becoming confirmed reality. Katsuki wondered if Izuku just was a masochist, or if this was somehow a way to get back at him, who kept the other half wrapped in velvet in his room.
While even a glimpse of his childhood friend set a trail of burning shame down Katsuki’s spine, but his pride prevented him from actively avoiding Izuku.
Maybe he was the masochist, after all.
But that was neither here nor there, for when Izuku found himself face to face with Katsuki in an otherwise empty corridor, all he did was push a piece of paper in Katsuki’s hand.
“I want to talk to you,” he said before walking away. Katsuki straightened the crumpled note to find a time and a place: a remote corner near the training grounds, in the middle of the night.
Excitement stirred under Katsuki's skin. The nerd wanted to talk, huh? Maybe he had finally decided to move up a step from passive-aggressively carrying the sword and tell Katsuki off. Best case scenario, they could get a fight out of it. Training had been partly cancelled due to the mourning period and Katsuki was kept out of active duty “until his injuries would get better”, which meant he had plenty of pent-up energy he was itching to get rid of. One way or another, this meeting would make something budge.
Katsuki arrived to the promised place first. He stood in the dark arms crossed, waiting for his adversary. Finally, he saw the telltale light of a torch that announced Izuku's arrival before his soft footsteps on the paved ground did.
Katsuki hadn't brought a weapon, deciding that if things were to escalate to physical action, his fists would do the job. Seeing a flash of metal in Izuku’s hand gave him slight pause, but soon enough he could see that it wasn’t a weapon: it was an ornamented ceremonial knife, too delicate to use in combat but sharp enough to cut ordinary objects. The other thing he carried was a huge, orange gladiolus flower. However, One for All was not with him.
Izuku put the torch down in the ground with care, allowing it to continue to burn against the stone. The flame from the low angle didn't hide the determination in his eyes as he looked straight into Katsuki's.
"...What do you want to talk about?" Katsuki said, trying to maintain an air of detached assuredness even though the signs of what was going on terrified him. Izuku simply extended his hands. In his right hand was the flower, its magnificent blossoms reaching out towards Katsuki. In his left hand was the knife: Izuku let the hilt rest against his palm so that the blade was pointing towards his own chest.
Katsuki resisted the urge to take a step back. He wasn't stupid, he knew what this was. Izuku had to know, too. But Katsuki couldn't for the life of him understand why.
The gladiolus flower held one more meaning. There was an old custom that dated back hundreds of years, based on the legend of a warrior who fell in love with a noblewoman who was meant to marry a different person. He came to her with a gladiolus and a knife, telling her that his life was hers, whether it be in life or in death.
“Be it with the blade or the flower, you pierce my heart”
In the legend, the woman made her choice clear and struck the lovesick man dead with the knife, choosing to marry her intended. Despite the unhappy ending, the method later became a common way to reveal one's feelings. Murder as rejection did soon fall out of favour, but the symbolic significance remained.
Of course Izuku would pull a cliched and old-fashioned trick like that....
Wait.
None of this actually made any sense.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Deku?"
"This is really hard, so I need you to just listen to me for a little bit,” Izuku drew in a shaky breath, “I…when I heard how bad the battle was, and realised that you were there... I think I went a bit mad. I don't remember everything from that time, I was... so focused on getting to you and making sure you were okay. I was so worried that you were going to go away somehow, that I would never get to talk things through with you. We'll need to start working together a lot more from now on so... So. I have to tell you this now."
Katsuki was shell-shocked into silence, staring at the flower in Izuku’s hand as if it could explode at any moment.
“I’ve known you for as long as I can remember,” Izuku continued, “Back when All Might may just as well have been nothing more than a storybook character, you were there and real and amazing. I wanted to be close to you so bad it hurt.” His eyes turned to the burning torch, “It was like standing next to a big bonfire… just looking at you too closely made my eyes sting, and I knew that if I were to reach out to touch you, the fire would just burn me. I’ve tried to become better, to grow stronger so that I would not burn, and maybe I’m still not even halfway there… but I’ll never know if I don’t try it, even once?”
Izuku turned his gaze away from the fire straight to Katsuki again.
“I believe All Might gave us the sword for a reason. When I’m carrying my half, it’s incomplete, missing a piece. But if you’re by my side with yours, we have the whole. And that must…mean something. But this,” he lifted the knife and the flower, “this isn’t that. This isn’t me asking about All Might, or duty, or any of that. This is just about you and me.
"I know this is sudden, and weird, and... I know you probably don't care at all. If you want, we can forget tonight ever happened, and we can just focus on training. It's honestly okay, so..." Izuku's voice trailed off and disappeared into silence. His hands were shaking, and it wasn’t because of the strain. But he didn't lower his eyes.
It occurred to Katsuki that this may just have been the longest time he had ever listened to Izuku talk without interrupting him once. He still didn’t have the words to speak. There was no hesitation in Izuku's face as he stood up straight, holding out the options he put before Katsuki. The verdant green of the stem and leaves of the gladiolus matched Izuku's eyes, and he looked more like a warrior than all of the heroic veterans in the portrait hall combined.
It would be so simple. Katsuki wouldn't even have to say anything, just take the knife and cut the flower stem, maybe rip it in pieces for good measure. The answer would ring loud and clear, and the daylight would find them as they had been when the sun was still up.
He thought of distant sun-filled days, silly make-believe games that became twisted as they morphed into reality. He thought of the child whose skin was constantly littered with scars and bruises he got while trying to keep up with Katsuki’s relentless pace, no matter the amount of ridicule and scolding that would follow. He thought of the eyes that were always there when he turned around. He thought of the face that flashed before him right when he thought he was about to die.
Katsuki took a step towards Izuku and reached for the knife. This was the moment when Izuku faltered ever so slightly, lowering his eyes to the ground but keeping his stance. Ready to take what was due.
The blade shone in the light of the torch as Katsuki wielded it with precision, drawing a small cut in the side of his palm. Then he reached for the gladiolus, which made Izuku look at him again. With purpose, Katsuki let drops of his blood trickle onto the leaves and petals, staining orange and green with dark red that looked almost black in the darkness of the night.
"You better be serious about what you just said. I don't half-ass anything."
Izuku let out a choked, halted laugh. With trembling hands, he took the knife from Katsuki's hand and reached down, holding the blade in the flame of the torch for a moment to sanitise it. Then, he gave himself a cut matching Katsuki's, and let his blood drip onto the flower between them. Looking at the stained flower, Katsuki felt a strange new power grow within him. He met Izuku's eyes, and they were glassy but without hesitation. They joined their free hands together as the light of Izuku's torch steadily flickered out, leaving only the stars as their witness.
"To the death…”
“…or to the gladioli."