Work Text:
Push, pull. Push, pull.
Crystalline water licks at Izuku’s feet, cooled to iciness in the absence of the sun. Beneath the moon’s attentive eye, the sleepy, slow world glows white.
The forest, shrouded in blue-green by the night, buzzes with life around him, a comforting song of life sung for the stars. Amongst it all, Izuku sits on the pebbled ground washing his clothes, humming a song of his own under his breath. When he’s done, he’ll hang them to dry. They should be ready by the time he leaves.
Soft snaps sound as footsteps approach, and Izuku turns to find Katsuki’s pretty, sleepy face illuminated gently in the moonlight. Peace and happiness bloom in Izuku’s heart, and he smiles.
Katsuki walks over, avoiding the sleepy flowers dotted about, and sits down beside him. A whisper of distance separates them, their thighs almost touching. Katsuki’s skin radiates warmth.
“Deku. You should be asleep,” Katsuki says.
Izuku continues his washing. “I could say the same to you, Kacchan.”
Katsuki acknowledges him with a hum. He leans back and looks to the stars. “We leave in the morning. Why do this now?”
Push, pull. Izuku hums. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s something to do.” They both know he could’ve done this much more quickly in the village. “It’s a nice night out,” he says.
Katsuki shuffles a little closer, and nods. Their arms brush with every breath.
They will set out for the village Ochirareru come morning. They’d received a request for help the day previous, to resolve issues with Ochirareru’s forest and the creatures within it.
It isn’t their focus right now. Traveling. Helping. While Izuku is normally the first to volunteer to help anyone who may need it, there’s a lot they need to work out, and only recently have they settled in this current village. Only recently have they taken a break from their constant action; a short moment to catch their breaths before they’re called to play hero again.
One thing they have to figure out is the sword. The mythic sword One For All: their destiny, the artefact that will one day help countless people and change Izuku and Katsuki’s lives forever. But that is one day. They can afford some time to breathe.
Katsuki leans against Izuku, pressing their arms together and sending fluttery tingles down his spine. Izuku’s motions stop and he looks to Katsuki, whose gaze remains tied to the sky. He’s so soft like this, with his face relaxed, unburdened by the stress and frustration of the day. There’s just here and now, Izuku and Katsuki, sat together like simple childhood friends.
As if, eventually, there could really be just simple between them.
It’s a pleasant, hopeful thought.
It takes Izuku far too long to look away from Katsuki and finish his washing. Once he’s done, he nudges the other from his half-dozing state, and they walk back to the house. Katsuki helps him hang his clothes. Minutes later, they’re both asleep.
The next day, Izuku and Katsuki are ready to begin their travel by the time the sun edges out from the horizon. On foot, it’s a two week journey.
Izuku doesn’t spare a single nostalgic thought for the place they depart. He won’t miss the little house they’re leaving behind, and they don’t know anyone who’d care to see them off. It suits the pair just fine. They’re soothed by the forest’s whispered goodbyes and emboldened by the birds’ chipper morning greetings, following the path leading out of the village.
The early morning sun is pleasant, the barest caress of warmth against Izuku’s skin wherever the light touches. As he walks by Katsuki’s side, the world slowly wakes from its night of slumber, brightening around him. As Katsuki focuses on the path they follow, Izuku finds his attention taken by the gentle magic dancing in the air and the softness of the rising sun.
Katsuki pauses for a moment and looks at Izuku, staring silently for several seconds. “Hurry up. You’re walking too slowly.”
It’s sunrise, yet Katsuki is already worrying about wasting the daylight away. Izuku stifles a giggle and nods. “Right, sorry! The sunrise just distracted me, I suppose. It’s such a nice morning.” Izuku knows as he says it that the explanation will make Katsuki tease him, perhaps even laugh in that rich way of his.
Hard ruby eyes melt, a little smile on Katsuki’s lips as he laughs like the grand peal of a city bell tower. “Of course you’d be distracted so easily. Trying to become a bard, commoner?”
Izuku manages to hold in another giggle. So predictable.
They continue on, traversing through the day and into the night. They chat and eat and finally, prepare for a cool night with the luna flowers they’re set up amongst.
It becomes their routine for the next few days. Wake at dawn, travel. Eat meals when hungry, walk on. Take breaks when Katsuki’s pace slows or Izuku asks to stop, then keep going. Though more tiring than Izuku would prefer, it makes for an efficient and enjoyable journey.
On their third day of travel, talking in a familiar murmur as they go, there is an interruption to the regimen. Their conversation, a comfortable back and forth peppered with Izuku’s eager gestures and rambles, comes to a halt as Katsuki abruptly stops walking, signalling for Izuku to do the same. They’re exposed in the sweet pollinated air, surrounded by the tall trees and the muted bustle of forest life.
Izuku looks to Katsuki and responds before his brain even recognizes what he’s seeing; Katsuki’s prominent muscles are tensed, eyes flitting about and senses focused. He’s on guard and ready for a fight. In a heartbeat, Izuku is too.
A coarse rustle of movement sounds beyond the tree line.
Izuku doesn’t hesitate to draw One For All. He is yet to master the sword, and he doesn’t yet understand it like he should—but if it comes down to life or death he will wield it with all his might.
Another rustle, and Izuku’s muscles go drawstring-tight.
An imposing figure steps out from the tree line, and Izuku’s heart stutters.
Katsuki’s body loosens in sudden calmness. “Relax,” he says, placing a steady hand on Izuku’s shoulder and nudging the sword down with the other. “She’s practically harmless.”
Izuku allows himself to be moved, but doesn’t take his eyes off the great creature before him. Opalescent scales seem to glow despite the shade she stands in; a giant red salamander the height of three men stand on all fours. Her large, intelligent black eyes watch Izuku as intently as he watches her.
She’s gorgeous. Awe-inspiring. But Izuku can’t help the chilly fear that his heart beats into his blood. The fear increases tenfold as Katsuki approaches her. To his awe, when Katsuki bows and hums at the salamander, she lets him come close enough to touch.
Izuku feels a bit faint.
Katsuki turns to regard the salamander and cocks his head. “Must be travelling to another forest for the summer. I wonder if she’d be willing to help us.”
She is.
With Sally’s assistance—Izuku chose the name for the salamander, not Katsuki—it takes them only a week to arrive at Ochirareru.
Katsuki made them wake up extra early on the day they were to arrive, supposedly so they could get to town in the morning and start their work by afternoon. Izuku suspects the man simply wished for more time with their new friend before they bid her farewell.
After an emotional goodbye to Sally, they enter the village and check themselves into an inn. Izuku wastes no time in stripping off his outer clothes and collapsing in bed. He wakes hours later when the sun is high in the sky, shining obnoxiously into his eyes through the room’s open window. He groans.
Katsuki demands he get up. “I already spoke to some people in town. Would’ve left you behind if I didn’t know you’d complain. So get your ass out.”
“Fiiine,” Izuku whines. He gets up and puts on fresh clothes, laid out and ready to go thanks to Katsuki.
Katsuki has already left the inn by the time Izuku is ready, and he finds him sat outside, studying a map of the forest.
They speak little as they travel into the forests’ depths. The forest air is thick and still, and without even trying Izuku can sense a something amiss in the air. Something heavy and dark, stinking faintly of rot.
“Were you able to find out what strange behaviors the forest’s inhabitants have been exhibiting?” Izuku asks.
“Unusual migration patterns, rowdiness at the village outskirts, and some have even gone into the village and caused issues,” Katsuki lists off dully. “No one in the village knows why, other than some apparent issue with the local magisphere. The villagers can’t harm any of them because of an old agreement with local fae, and they haven’t been able to get them to stop on their own. So here we are, solving their problems for them.”
Izuku is inclined to agree, rude tone aside. Of all things they could be doing with their time, this is certainly not their priority. He acknowledges the explanation with a little hum.
“I’m gonna talk to the locals, try to sniff out the problem. Keep quiet and don’t offend anyone, alright?”
Izuku does, taking notes as he goes. He watches in awed silence as Katsuki interacts seamlessly with all manner of species, navigating language barriers and unique customs and speaking languages he couldn’t hope to comprehend.
Each conversation leads them closer to the source of darkness, the magic in the air heavier and more sluggish with every step Izuku takes. Slowly, everything becomes still and silent, signs of life disappearing. There are no more sweet flowers, no bright fruit in the trees. Just sickly, dull plants that seems to wither under his gaze.
They reach a clearing which must contain the source of the imbalance; Izuku swallows down the urge to retch as Katsuki pants heavily by his side. The air here is downright poisonous, dense as stone and just as heavy. The cause of the imbalance sits in the centre of the clearing. A rotting tree stump that must certainly be cursed.
Izuku recognises it at once; called Jōmon Sugi by locals, it had been one of the oldest trees on the continent until it was cut down by a power-hungry warlock. He breathes carefully and focuses on the stump. Miasmic and putrid, it absorbs magical energy and expels sickly dark energy in its place. The curse must not be too complicated.
Ragged coughs sound, like explosions through the clearing. Izuku turns in time to catch Katsuki as he collapses.
“Shit,” Izuku curses under his breath, struggling to get a solid grip on Katsuki as the man wheezes and shakes. “It’s okay, I got you Kacchan,” he soothes as he drags Katsuki out from the clearing. “You’re okay.”
Katsuki can do little more than pant and slump heavily against Izuku as they slowly stumble further from the stump.
Once they get far enough from the epicentre, Katsuki pushes himself away and insists he walk on his own. Only then does Izuku dare speak again. “I never knew you...” Izuku says softly. Their pace becomes brisk, to beat the setting sun.
Katsuki’s jaw clenches, and he doesn’t so much as glance Izuku’s way. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
He’s right.
As well as Izuku likes to think he knows his old friend, his knowledge has gaps the size of chasms. Months of reacquaintance can’t make up for years of separation. Izuku frowns down at the passing flora, clenches his fists and stares right at Katsuki, hoping the other man can feel the heat of his gaze.
He right, but it’s not fair.
He takes a deep breath, puffs out his chest, and says, “I want to know.”
Now, he gets that glance. “What?”
“I want to know,” Izuku repeats slowly, as if carefully enunciating new, unfamiliar words. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you, but I want to. I want you to let me.”
Katsuki looks away, but his pace slows to something more manageable for Izuku’s shorter legs. He’s silent for some time as they continue their trek out the forest.
Katsuki’s silences bothered Izuku a lot, just a few months ago. It still fuels his insecurity to some degree, but he understands now. Katsuki is just thinking. It’s simply something Katsuki does, something Izuku is glad to be able to recognise.
Finally, Katsuki looks to Izuku.
“Why?”
Izuku blinks, momentarily speechless as he processes the question. Why. Privately, Izuku’s thoughts respond in kind: Why ask that? Why not? Why wouldn’t you expect me to want to know you?
Izuku takes his own time to think, then speaks with a bitter nostalgia on his tongue. “We were close, once. As children, we were always together. We seemed to know everything about each other. But now that we’ve reconnected, it’s different. We fell behind on each others’ lives. We don’t talk like we used to. I.. want to get to know you again.”
Katsuki’s full face crinkles into a frown. “We were just kids then, Deku. Why should that time matter?”
“It does matter! It’s our past- it’s how we used to be, and how we could be again. How could that not matter to me?”
“Now is all that matters,” Katsuki says firmly. He’s no longer looking at Izuku, but ahead.
The simple sentence clicks everything into place in Izuku’s mind.
He and Katsuki always have been very different.
“So let’s do things now. Not for the past, but for the us of now. I want to know this Kacchan, because I care about you. Not mere childhood nostalgia.”
Katsuki huffs, but Izuku recognises the soft light of happiness smoothing his features. “Right. Whatever you say, you sappy bard.”
The rest of the walk back is pleasant, Izuku feeling light and hopeful, a previously unnoticed weight off his shoulders.
The minute he can, Izuku brews up a tea to help Katsuki, making the man drink no less than three cups of the stuff. After enough complaining from Katsuki, Izuku drinks a cup too. With a fresh pot nearby, charmed warm by Katsuki, they open Izuku’s work book. They stay up late into the night, discussing various iterations of magic theory and devising a plan of action. Katsuki leans into Izuku’s space, pressing himself into Izuku’s side as Izuku writes and mumbles about magical plants and native life. Occasionally, Katsuki will point out a mistake, and Izuku will cross out a line and adjust his ideas accordingly.
Izuku draws his conclusion, tying up actions, consequences, and magic, and turns to smile blearily at Katsuki. Katsuki, who has fallen asleep against his shoulder and is warm and firm and nothing short of beautiful against Izuku. Izuku pushes away his book, wraps an arm around Katsuki, and lets gooey, honey-sweet feelings lull him to sleep.
The next day, they’re up and in the forest by sunrise, eager to dispel the curse as soon as possible. Izuku brings along a variety of materials to allow them to approach the stump, setting in a large perimeter around the stump. With just a dozen runes, plant buds and gems, the magic in the air begins to filter.
As soon as Katsuki is able, he makes short work of setting up a magic circle around the cursed stump. Izuku watches from afar, only coming close when Katsuki requests One for All and positions it just right—if Izuku’s theory is correct, it will effectively channel light magic and heal the tree’s remains. Finally, Katsuki sits back on his heels and assesses the set up.
Izuku hangs back, fidgeting and staring at the ground as he waits for Katsuki to do begin using his magic.
His thoughts are interrupted by Katsuki himself. “Deku, come over here.”
“Huh?” Izuku says dumbly, wandering closer. When his pants are tugged, he kneels beside Katsuki.
“You can help.” Oh. “Dragon-bloods are unique even amongst other magical beings. We connect with magic in a way others can’t.” Izuku nods, allowing himself to be manipulated into position, limbs limp with confusion. “Hand here—grab the sword with the other. Now, close your eyes, and feel.”
Then Katsuki places his hands over Izuku’s, and everything starts moving. His magic rushes about, flowing through the circle and the sword and the stump. It flickers and sparks, weaving through the air and lifting up, up, up. Suddenly there is fresh air and sunlight and movement and life as the stagnant weight of the curse lifts.
Instantly, Izuku feels the sword. It feels like determination and strength and hope, like burning, solid steel.
Most of all, as that oppressive weight dissipates, Izuku feels Katsuki. Strong, warm Katsuki, whose magical essence is a brilliant flame, lighting up everything around him simply by existing. A perfect complement to Izuku’s cooler, liquid energy, which tempers the flames and flows with their heat. He basks in that heat as the last of the stagnation clears, the forest around them abuzz with happy vibrancy.
Eventually, Izuku opens his eyes. Under their hands, the sword is gilded down its centre, glowing gold like liquid flames. Izuku spares it but a glance.
Katsuki is staring at him, unreadable but fiery. His face glows golden in the sunlight, red eyes shining. Fixated on the gorgeous sight before him, Izuku’s face goes hot, yet he can’t help but smile.
Katsuki smiles back, then takes a deep breath and nudges their foreheads together. His skin is sweaty and his hands are calloused when they come to cradle Izuku’s face, but most of all, he’s warm and he’s home and he’s Kacchan.
Izuku leaves the forest breathing clean air, One For All proudly settled on one side, and Kacchan holding his hand on the other.