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Katsuki was generally neutral on the subject of Christmas. His parents had always given him a small gift growing up but nothing more was made of it. One memorable year his father had donned a Santa suit, and Katsuki swore up and down ever since that he’d startled him, creeping through the house – that was how the table-top Christmas tree exploded while he had snuck into the kitchen to swipe the cookies his mom made.
As an adult, he had the privilege of choosing to ignore Christmas altogether. And surprisingly, Ochaco didn’t make much of a fuss about Christmas either. Her reasoning had been an offhand remark about her family’s financial priorities during her youth. And judging by the fact that she’d been living in a tidy single-bedroom apartment up until almost a year ago, old habits were hard to break even though she had enough money now to buy herself a gift for every year she’d missed out on one.
He readjusted his grip on the shopping bag he held. Despite all of it, she never explicitly said she didn’t want gifts. And he wasn’t one of those jerks that combined gifts, so he had her birthday gift as well. Looking at the bag as he walked down the street, his stomach gave a tiny flip. This was their first Christmas together. It wasn’t his first Christmas in Tokyo, though. Technically, they were officially working together during the holiday the previous year. But at the time, he was still tetchy from submitting to a contract with her and getting his ass kicked during training sessions. He’d spent Christmas by himself, but then days later, on her birthday, things had begun to change.
The memory of that time – a whole year ago – sometimes gave him whiplash. One whole year ago, he’d been unsatisfied, inexplicably bitter… lonely, though he hadn’t realized it at the time as loneliness. Now, he owned a home. With the woman he loved. And his work here gave him more satisfaction than it ever had in the eight years he spent alone in Osaka.
Ever since Ochaco, he found he didn’t like thinking about those years.
My job is in Osaka. My life is with you, he’d said to her when she doubted his ability to leave Osaka so abruptly.
And he’d meant it. That was the blessed thing about hero work – a hero could find work nearly anywhere. And in a place as big as Tokyo, he could take on as much or as little work as he wanted. His renewed friendship with Deku and Todoroki meant that he was able to take part in high profile gigs that paid more, which in turn allowed him to relax into domestic life, something he’d never expected himself to like so much.
Before Ochaco, the thought of domesticity was barely a thought. He didn’t plan to marry just for the sake of marrying. He thought he was going to be like All Might and the myriad other heroes that found no time for marriage and families. Even the Katsuki of a year ago knew finding someone who would be willing to put up with him would be the miracle of the century.
Katsuki slid into his car, enveloped in the quiet and the smell of leather, and smirked gently at his own mental ramblings. A miracle, alright.
He drove home and found a familiar car in their driveway. The lights inside were all on. And when he entered, stepping out of his shoes and into his slippers, he smelled something delicious and heard the sounds of muffled giggles and Christmas music turned down low.
He shuffled into the kitchen and found Ochaco and his mother standing hip to hip, ingredients spread out on the counter around them.
“–here, only the whites,” his mother was explaining as Ochaco carefully cracked an egg to separate the yolk. “The fat in the yolk makes the crust softer.”
His father sat at the island counter, his laptop in front of him, a soft smile on his face as he typed.
“I’m home,” he said.
Ochaco and his mother looked up at the same time, wide smiles on their faces.
“Welcome home,” Ochaco greeted. By now, she was coating raw chicken thighs and drumsticks in the egg and seasoned flour.
Katsuki hung up his coat and withdrew one of the items from the shopping bag, taking it with him around the island to her.
“Careful,” she said, lifting her smile up at him. “I’m messy.”
“What else is new?” He quipped under his breath and snickered at her pout. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and then he deftly slid one of the bobby pins out of her hair to resecure a tendril that had escaped the bun to hang precariously over the sticky chicken.
He stepped around her and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Hi, Mom. What’s all this?”
“What’s it look like?” She retorted. “Christmas dinner.”
“I could have picked up chicken.”
Ochaco shook her head. “This is much more fun. And Mitsuki’s chicken is the best.”
Katsuki snorted. “You weren’t forced to be a test subject while she was perfecting it.” He caught the amused upward flicker of his father’s eyes and returned the knowing look. The Bakugo men had survived worse than burnt fried chicken over the years.
“When I die,” his mother said frankly, “you’re going to be glad I gave the recipe to Ochaco-chan. No one else is worthy.”
He resumed his place at Ochaco’s side, leaning on the countertop while he watched her coat the meat.
“How was Ei-chan?” She asked.
“Fine,” he said. “Way too excited about a train ride to Nagoya.”
She slanted him a look. “He’s taking Mina to meet his mom. It’s Christmas. Have a little spirit.”
He took the glass of wine sitting out that was undoubtedly his mother’s and sipped. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Honey, have I told you the story about Katsuki meeting Santa?”
“Mom,” he groaned.
Ochaco grinned. “Do tell.”
“Katsuki was seven, I think, and we decided to have a little fun one Christmas Eve and set up a camera overnight to ‘catch’ Santa. I dressed Masaru in a Santa suit and had him tiptoe around the house with a big bag. We had baked cookies earlier in the day and this little rotten thief got up in the middle of the night to eat them all.”
”I ate, like, two,” he defended.
His mother smirked. “Only because your father came into the kitchen and you were so embarrassed and startled you accidentally blew up my Christmas tree and scorched my wood table. Here I come running in to find my kid cry-screaming about intruders and my husband shushing him with cookie bribes and scrambling to cover the table.”
From his computer, his dad deadpanned, “Nobody was innocent that night.”
Normally, when his mother got rolling on an embarrassing story, he’d bicker back and forth with her about it. But he’d been watching Ochaco’s face during, and the delighted twinkle in her eye was too charming to disrupt.
“I kept the trees out of the hazard zone each year after that,” she finished. “And Santa never came back.”
Ochaco laughed, plating the prepared chicken. Her cheeks were faintly flushed when she looked at him and he badly wanted to kiss her.
She turned to the sink to wash her hands of the sticky flour and then to the stovetop where a deep pan of oil was heated. With long chopsticks she placed each piece into the oil to fry, leaning slightly away from the popping.
His mother was busy at the sink washing dishes, so he sidled up behind Ochaco.
“I got you a present,” he said low at her ear, gently shaking the box of candies.
Her eyes got big and covetous when she glanced down at it. “Oh, god, are those truffles?”
He chuckled.
“I’ve been eating candy all week,” she lamented, lifting despairing eyes at him. “I think I’ve gained weight already.”
He couldn’t resist. He slid his hand over her ass and gave an appreciative squeeze, grinning when she jumped with a choked off mouse squeak.
“I can tell,” he said. “And it’s gone right where it should.”
“Katsuki, I’ve got hot oil,” she warned in a hushed whisper and he laughed, setting the chocolates aside. She nudged him away with her hip.
“Stop accosting the girl,” his dad said.
Katsuki swung a critical pout at him, he whose brow was furrowed and his face lit by the screen. “What are you even doing? Get off that thing.”
“I wish,” he replied, “but some people are on a deadline and don’t have the luxury of choosing not to work.”
Katsuki bit back a swear. Swearing at his dad was like… kicking a puppy.
He said, “Technically, you have had that choice. For five years now. I set you up for retirement. Go sit on a beach or something.”
His father laughed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “And get bored out of my mind? I’ll leave when the time is right, son.”
”We decided we’re going to go on a grand vacation when he does,” his mother said. “I want to go to Paris, or Venice, or Madrid. Katsuki, you both should come with us.”
“Fuck no.”
Like a switch, they’d both activated Bicker Mode. His mom snapped, “What? You don’t want to go on vacation with your mother?”
“I will not spend half a day or longer with you in a godforsaken airplane.”
“When I die, Katsuki, you’re going to wish– ”
They both stopped at the sound of a crunch. He spun around and found his father and Ochaco seated together at the table, both with chicken in their hands and licking grease from their lips.
Ochaco blinked big, mock-innocent eyes at him. “Oh, are you done?”
She raised her eyebrows and licked her thumb, and he wished desperately that his parents weren’t there.
“Will you be a dear and grab the veggies too?”
His mom was giving him an arms folded, haha-I-won smirk but he wasn’t sure either of them had won anything.
.
At the end of the night, Ochaco collapsed onto his lap, the tray of truffles in her hand.
Or, he should say, the tray bearing the single last truffle.
“Euh,” she groaned, tossing her legs over his lap. “I shouldn’t have eaten all of those.”
“I’ll help,” he said, and popped the last one into his mouth and set the tray aside.
Now that his parents were gone, he wanted to spend the evening, even the entire next day, cuddling. No one was allowed in his house. No one was allowed out of the house. He’d remind himself later to turn on the perimeter security system.
And he kicked it off with a long kiss that tasted faintly of chocolate. Leisurely, he pulled the pins from her hair. Her body was settling heavily against him, and he thought of her second present. He nudged her before she had a chance to fall asleep.
“I have your actual present,” he said.
She tipped her face up. “Another one?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the couch, flicking off the lamps on his way to the bedroom. At some point in the evening, he’d snuck in to hide the bag under the bed, since his mother was prone to snooping.
She tucked a leg underneath her beside him on the bed as he bent down to get the bag. He held the little jewelry box in his hand and mumbled, “Merry Christmas.”
The smile curled across her face and she lifted the lid to coo at the twin stud earrings – pink diamonds.
“I saw them,” he said, for want of explaining, “and I thought of you.”
“They’re beautiful,” she breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”
She removed them from the velvet pillow and secured them in her ears, beaming up at him.
“You didn’t need to get me anything like this, though. You know that, right?”
“I know,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist to pull her down beside him.
But he wanted to get the earrings. He wanted to get her everything. She deserved everything. Even though they all got together practically every couple of weeks, he liked seeing her with his parents. The novelty never really wore off. He liked how his mom assumed she would be coming with them on vacation when his dad retired – which could be in a year, or five.
Ochaco fiddled with the earrings, removing them to place them carefully in the box on the nightstand before rolling back into his side, snuggling into his chest.
“What do you want to do for your birthday?” He asked.
She hummed and he could feel it buzz across his skin. “I want to stay home.”
He cocked a brow and rubbed her shoulder. “You sure?”
She nodded. “Mina’s been dragging me to parties and shopping all month long. I want to stay home where I don’t have to see anyone. Except you, of course.”
It was his turn to hum. “Then, do you have another… present for me?”
She leaned over him to give his smirking grin a flat look. She’d dressed in sexy lingerie for his birthday. One of the birthdays he’d never forget.
“That was for your birthday. If we’re doing it like that then you should be the one dressing up for me. ”
The thought of dressing in anything that scant had him cringing. But he recovered with a kiss to her nose. “I much prefer nothing at all.”
She laughed. “I suppose I agree.”
“I’ll still make you a cake.”
She looked at him again. “Darling, you’re a wonderful cook. You’re not the best baker.”
He scoffed. “I’m going to make that sponge cake my bitch if it kills me.”
“Number three hero killed in tragic baking accident. More at seven.”
He tried not to laugh, but the snicker slipped through. He pulled her in tighter and said, “Late Number Three’s widow exacts revenge by vowing to demolish every cake for the rest of her life.”
She squinted at him. “Are you insinuating that my revenge plan is to eat?”
His hand slid down to her ass again. “The best revenge body, if you ask me.”
She smacked his arm but nestled back in. After a quiet moment, she said, “We have to be married for me to be a widow.”
He both wished she had and hadn’t picked up on that little slip. Not that he didn’t mean it. He was going to spend the rest of his life with her anyway. But the weight behind the words was nothing to take lightly.
And since he prided himself on being cool as a cucumber, even with his heart pounding, he murmured, “Just say when.”
She drew circles on his shoulder with her finger. “I think a winter wedding.”
“I’ll get your parents’ tickets. They can come tomorrow, right?”
She laughed, raising herself up so that she hovered over his face, gazing down at him nose-to-nose. “The media would hate you forever for that. I meant next year, at the very least. Though I do appreciate the enthusiasm.”
He pulled a face. “The media can go suck a dick. I don’t want them at my wedding.”
She kissed his nose. “Me neither. Just family, and friends.”
“No Deku.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’ll already have been married by then.”
“Do I have to go to their wedding?”
“As the best man, yes, you do. Besides,” she added, wiggling her hips and trailing her fingers down his throat, “I want to say I had sex with the best man in a broom closet.”
The mental images of that scenario were enough to convince him that weathering Deku and Todoroki’s wedding would be worth it. He grinned and said, “Ma’am, I’m promised to another.”
She stuck out her tongue at him and then initiated the first of a series of long, languid kisses. His heart still pounded, with relief and quiet joy. What started as a slip of the tongue ended up being… well, not a proposal really, but something better. The promise of a future.
He wasn’t the type to say that kind of thing, or spring a proposal on her, unless he was sure she felt the same. And he was so utterly relieved when she accepted it like it was simply fact. He supposed it was, always had been.
Regrettably, Ochaco did move off him sometime later to ready herself for bed. And when she came shuffling back in, with her face cleaned, in her pajama pants and an old sweater, his heart tripped lightly in his chest. The sweater was actually one of his that he was going to throw out a long time ago, but she had rescued it and seeing her hands curled in the sleeves had him thankful she did.
She climbed over him to nestle in and as he stroked her hair he ran it through his head, My wife. My wife . My wife.
But he supposed that my fiancée had its own special ring too. For now.
.
.
Strangely, the traditional red lanterns were like a beacon, welcoming him home. The moon was bright that night, and Ochaco’s hand warm in his.
Straggling folks wandered into the woods up the path to Homan Shrine. Katsuki hitched the backpack up his shoulder and Ochaco led him in.
Dressed in her hatsumode kimono, the same one she wore the previous year, deep blue and pale pink, a years ago gift from her mother, the pink diamonds glinted in her ears and her hiking boots crunched the forest floor. Ever his practical Ochaco.
The previous year, she had explained to him the story of Princess Tamayori, the resident shrine spirit. The story was simple and folksy enough. He thought of the little charm wrapped in his pocket.
The red lanterns led them to a quaint shrine, and they took their turn at the offertory box, at the bell where they clapped and prayed, and then to the charms where they paid for slips of paper.
Ochaco was whispering prayers that it would be a blessing. She’d gotten a curse the previous year.
“Did your curse even turn out true?” He asked her.
“Of course not,” she said like it was obvious. “Because I left it here to be cleansed.” And when she carefully opened her charm this time, he saw a small smile and a sigh of relief.
“A blessing?”
“A small one,” she confirmed. “But it’s better than a curse.”
He knew she wouldn’t show him, because it’d get jinxed otherwise.
His own charm this year was another blessing. Good friendships are each unique, some with more rocking waves than others. Stand with your friends, and your friends will stand with you. Forge the bonds of a lifetime, and this lifetime will be good to you.
His mind instantly went to those bastards Deku and Todoroki and how he fucking agreed to be best man and how he would have to subject himself to Todoroki’s not-so-secret lovesick gazes and Deku’s gross lovey rambling.
He curled his lip and decided this was a charm he could stand to toss.
“A curse?” Ochaco asked.
“No.”
She laughed. “Then stop making that face. Come on.”
She grabbed him by the hand again and took him back to the path, up the hill where other people didn’t pass. Before when she took him up here, she’d been secretive. But now he knew what awaited them at the top. A clear, bright moon. A peaceful copse where the small lake of Princess Tamayori lay below the hill.
Katsuki dropped his backpack and squatted down, removing the blanket to lay over the ground and the bags of food and thermos of hot chocolate to spread out.
Hindered slightly by the constraints of the kimono, Ochaco knelt carefully and opened containers. He shucked his outer jacket, a warmer, puffier one, and draped it over her shoulders. He was left in a less puffy jacket, but he wouldn’t get as cold as she would. Ochaco offered up a thankful smile. He settled himself on the blanket and she leaned into him as she began to eat.
She fed him bites from her chopsticks but otherwise they remained mostly quiet. And he was fine with it. The place seemed to encourage it, if not require it.
This time last year, he’d been taken aback by sudden, new feelings. Spending so much time training with her, learning her, after almost ten years apart, had his mind rushing from thinking of her as an acquaintance to a steady friend to someone he didn’t want to live without. When they knew each other back in school, friendships were hard for him – romance completely off the table. The most that came of their relationship was the mutual respect between them whenever they fought together. All from that very first fight until graduation. And then he’d ran.
Convinced he no longer needed those relationships with his classmates, still bitter about separating and proving himself apart from Deku. He’d moved to Osaka, and years later a mission brought him back.
This night, a year ago, he’d begun to see her. Truly see her. And he liked it, wanted it. If he’d deserved any grace, he wished for her to show him.
“I was a jerk,” he murmured in the dark quiet. She looked at him in question. “For a long time.”
“Maybe so,” she said, and that was what he loved about her. She didn’t try to make excuses for him. He’d already owned up to his behavior. “But how do you feel now?”
He met her searching eyes and said, “Better.”
And she smiled. “I’m glad.” She curled her fingers in the sleeves and said, “I have a confession to make.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Last year, when we were here. That was the moment I fell in love with you.”
He blinked down at her, recalling everything about that night. The conversation they’d had, the way she’d held his hand and kissed his cheek.
“Me too, I think.”
She chuckled. “You think?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think there was a defining moment. It was just… Before You and After You.”
She hummed. “That’s kind of nice.” Then she ducked her chin slightly. “Katsuki, I’ve never asked you this, but… why me?”
He didn’t need her to clarify. And he didn’t need to think much about the answer.
“You didn’t give up on me.”
She gave a little nervous chuckle. “I was rather stuck with you for the mission.”
“Even aside from that. Most people stayed away, most people decided they didn’t want to bother with my attitude. I don’t blame them exactly. But you didn’t let me off. That time… it gave me the wake up call I needed.”
“Can I reiterate that I’ll always support you, through any change, any step?”
Just knowing he had her, it was a better feeling than he ever could have imagined.
He said, “I suppose you’d call this a step.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. One he’d kept for a year. He gave it to her and she opened it carefully. Along with it, a souvenir slipped out. She held it up, the small figure of Princess Tamayori on a keychain. He’d bought it from a local shop there on the island of Tanegashima. She smiled at it and unfolded the paper.
“This is a charm,” she said.
“It’s the blessing I got last year. You asked what it was, remember? And I wouldn’t say, because it’d get jinxed.”
She laughed. “But won’t it get jinxed now?”
“Nope. We got new charms already. The jinx expiry date on this one has officially passed. Read it.”
She read the blessing. He’d memorized it from the first moment he read it.
You can’t set sail without a destination. You can’t reach the other side without sure navigation – you’ll only encounter storms and monsters. A compass found is better than guessing the way. This life will give you a compass. Keep it, and reach the shore of every place you dream to go.
Finished, she looked up at him again, her eyes shining. Her voice thickened slightly, and she said, “This was the charm you got?”
He pulled out the small box from his pocket next and flipped up the lid for her to see the ring nestled inside. A platinum band with three small diamonds imbedded, out of the way of damage, and understated, like her.
With gentle fingers, she lifted the ring out of the box, and laughed when the chain hooked to it unfurled.
“Did you get the idea from Izuku?”
“Hell no,” he started, but then blew out a resigned laugh. “Maybe. But it’s a good idea anyway. You can wear it around your neck on missions, since you don’t wear gloves. Or you can leave it at home. I don’t mind.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Read the inside.”
She blinked in surprise and brought it close to her face so she could read the words in the lantern light, My compass engraved inside the band. This time when she looked up at him her eyes swam. She unhooked the chain and slid the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.
“Katsuki…”
He accepted her kiss, and the featherlight touch to his cheek.
He said, “You still want to wait for next winter?”
She chuckled. “Patience, darling. Did I teach you nothing?”
He snaked his arms around her waist and simply held her.
“If I’m the compass,” she said, stroking her fingers over the back of his hand, “you’re the boat. Sturdy. Proud. Sail full of wind – a fast one.”
He smiled into her hair. “I like that.”
It felt right, doing this here where he supposed it all began for them. This was a place he knew they would come back to each year, a tradition. This shrine, on Tanegashima, near the wide ocean, was all for them.
“Happy New Year,” he whispered.