Archive of Our Own

It all happens in an instant, in a moment between two breaths.

Katsuki leaves his field of vision for one, tiny, inconsequential moment as Eijirou turns to slash the demon poised to kill him and when Eijirou turns back, Katsuki is on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Seeing that dark crimson drenching the snow, dark tendrils slowly creeping further and further from the body of his husband, breaks something inside Eijirou. Before he can even think, he's shifting, scarred skin forming impenetrable scales as powerful wings sprout from his back. Another tiny, inconsequential moment passes and every one of their foes is replaced by mounds of ash. 

The snow that once surrounded them is now but a puddle, Katsuki's blood swirling with the water in an ominous cocktail. 

He's lost so much already. 

Eijirou's wasted so much time.

Panic floods Eijirou's body and completely overcomes all of his senses as he watches the shallow rise and fall of Katsuki's chest. Shifting back is impossible; all he can manage to do is shrink in size enough to take Katsuki in his scaled arms, pressing a clawed hand into his wound in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding. 

"Hey, Katsuki, it's okay. You'll be okay. Just stay with me," he whispers through the sobs that have started to rack his chest. "Don't leave me now, Katsuki. Please don't leave."

Keeping one hand pressed to Katsuki's abdomen, he frantically digs his claws into the fabric of Katsuki's vibrant cape and tears off a strip long enough to tie around Katsuki's waist. The moment he finishes securing the tourniquet, Eijirou pulls the limp body of his quickly fading best friend against his chest and pushes off the hard ground, the flapping of his expansive wings sending the water surrounding them out in violent splashes and lifting their bodies into the crisp winter air.

Eijirou doesn't even need to consider their destination, flying east without a second thought and towards the only person who can save Katsuki.

Uraraka Ochako.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

"Kirishima! Oh my goodness, what happened?" Uraraka gasps as her eyes fall on Katsuki's battered body in Eijirou's arms, small pants of frosted breath escaping his lips the only indication that he's even alive. She shuffles sideways, ushering Eijirou in the door and directing him to her kitchen table. "Set him down here and keep pressure on his wound as I get a potion ready."

"Just help him." Eijirou's voice comes out a grating growl, gravelly as he forces it out of his hardened throat. "Please," he tacks on as his shoulders slump in defeat.

Pursing her lips, Uraraka conjures a pair of steaming mugs, then starts sorting through the cabinets in her kitchen and pulls out a couple of tea bags. As she drops the bags into the boiling water to steep, she turns to Eijirou and sighs. "I can't make a proper potion without knowing the details of what happened, so you've got to calm down enough to shift back fully and tell me. Here's some chamomile tea, it should help." She hands him the red mug and waits to take a sip of hers until Eijirou takes a big gulp.

The burning heat traveling down Eijirou's chest helps ground him and slowly, he feels his scales melt back to normal skin and his wings give a slight flap, ruffling the pages of a nearby book, as they retract into his back. After he takes a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut as he presses harder into Katsuki's abdomen, he tells the mage of the attack. "We were ambushed by this group of demons while we were hiking. It's, uh—" he swipes at a tear as it makes its way down his cheek. "It’s our anniversary, so we wanted to get away and just enjoy each other's company. We were watching the sunset and they attacked us from behind. We were holding our own, but things started getting hairy and I turned away for one second a-and—" He lets out a shuddering breath, unable to continue, but it seems to be enough for Uraraka who pats him comfortingly on the back and moves away to collect her ingredients as she mumbles under her breath.

' Spends too much time with that damn nerd,' Eijirou can almost hear what Katsuki would say in this situation and lets out a soft, wet chuckle as he takes Katsuki's hand. 

"Just hang on a little longer," he whispers and squeezes the limp hand in his. "You are not allowed to die on our anniversary. That'd be a dick move, even for you."

After that, the only sounds heard in the small cottage are the soft, musical clinking of bottles and the controlled grinding of Uraraka's mortar and pestle as she works diligently.

Uraraka, in recent years, has started to specialize in healing magic, training under the renowned healer, Shuzenji Chiyo, to perfect the branch of magic. In the beginning, Eijirou remembers she'd often get queasy if she over-exerted herself, barely able to heal a simple cut before she'd go pale and have to excuse herself. These days, however, she's known far and wide as one of the best healers you can find in the realm. 

There's no one that Eijirou trusts more to save Katsuki than her and Eijirou tries to let his confidence in his friend overshadow his fear and panic so that he may stay calm and level-headed. She's already dealing with enough, she doesn't need Eijirou to lose control of his emotions so much that he shifts and destroys her home.

Uraraka spends several long minutes mixing the potion in silence, sprinkling herbs with intense aromas on the surface of the swirling concoction and pouring in sparkling liquids in varying amounts until suddenly, a small cloud of green erupts from the cauldron and the mixture hisses, low and threatening. 

She pours a helping of the potion into a small bowl, then returns to Katsuki's side to gently lift his head and pour the emerald brew down his throat. "The potion will stop the bleeding enough for me to heal him using my magic, but he's going to have to rest afterwards. I know that's basically unheard of for him, but you have to make him, Kirishima." She wags a finger in the redhead's face. "My magic won't work if he doesn't give it time to."

With a thoughtful hum, she sets the bowl down and presses the tips of her fingers together, making her hands glow with a soft pink hue. She mutters an incantation, then positions her hands to hover an inch above Katsuki's sternum. The pink from her palms starts to gradually cover his body, fanning out from where her hands are placed and focusing especially on the gash on his stomach. 

Uraraka closes her eyes, brows furrowed slightly in concentration, then, after a few tense moments, lets her breath out in a rush. As if following her lead, the pink glow pulses out forcefully, then dissipates in a rain of sparkles. "There. He's not at 100% yet, but he'll be alright in a day or two, as long as he rests," she emphasizes pointedly, meeting Eijirou's eyes with a stern expression and waiting until he nods before starting to clean up the haphazard mess.

"What's that shitty look for, idiot?" The scratchy, gruff voice from Eijirou's side might be the best thing he's ever heard in his life and he doesn't even try to fight the tears that spring to his eyes as he turns to see his husband looking vaguely disgruntled.

"My king," he breathes reverently, reaching a hand out to settle on his husband's cheek to verify that Katsuki's really here, warm and alive . "You scared me, you asshole."

"What the hell happened?" Katsuki grouses as he sits up. He makes it about halfway before wincing in pain and easing back into his previous position with a low hiss. "Mother fucker . My stomach hurts like a bitch." 

"We," Eijirou starts and cuts his eyes over to Uraraka, who meets his look and nods slightly, "were attacked and you were hurt. Bad. Uraraka healed you as best she could, but you're going to need to rest once we get home so you can fully recover."

"Fuck that, Eijirou! We have to go find those fuckers and destroy them!" 

Flashes of fire fill Eijirou’s mind as he recalls his rampage. Worrying over Katsuki had kept his mind busy up until this point, prevented him from dwelling on anything that wasn’t about saving his husband, and now that he’s safe, Eijirou’s memories of the fight are coming back full force. Eijirou had never felt rage that potent before; seeing the love of his life struck down right in front of his eyes had unlocked something deep within him, triggered a reaction that forced his body into motion without a second thought and without hesitation. 

It was alarming, to say the least, and Eijirou can't say he's proud of what he did, the screams of those demons still ringing in his ears and sure to haunt him for days to come.

“That’s not necessary,” he says in a small voice, turning away in shame. "I took care of it."

When Katsuki says nothing in response, a strained silence filling the room, Eijirou exhales forcefully and turns back to face him, head-on.

The look he’s met with makes Eijirou's face burn , his ears turning the same shade as his hair. "Damn, Red," Katsuki breathes, grin spreading slowly over his face until a cough rattles his chest and he groans lightly. 

Eijirou's caught between flustered and worried, his blush deepening severely as he holds his mug up to Katsuki's lips to give him a sip of tea to soothe his throat.

Dodging Eijirou's hands, Katsuki smirks and snorts. "Ha! You're so fucking embarrassed!" he taunts, even as his husband lets out a warning growl and narrows his eyes.

"Shut up! " Eijirou hisses, cheeks a startling dark pink. "Just drink the tea! I wanna go home!" He lifts the mug again and, with a roll of his eyes, Katsuki finally takes a drink, the teasing look never leaving his tired eyes.

Uraraka clears her throat forcefully and Eijirou flinches, nearly spilling the tea on himself and Katsuki, having almost forgotten they had an audience. Her expression teeters between unimpressed and troubled, seeming to favor the latter over her irritation towards the couple's display. "You should probably drink some of this too, Kirishima. Your wounds aren't nearly as bad, obviously, but it will help with the healing process," she says as she refills the bowl and gently pushes it into Eijirou's hands.

With an embarrassed nod, he swallows the bitter and pungent potion, the acrid taste lingering on his tongue even after he's draped his slightly annoyed, grumbling husband over his back and stepped out into the chilly night.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night? It's already so late and I have a spare room you guys could use." 

Eijirou sniffs the air for a moment, then gives her a reassuring grin. "There aren't any storms in the area and we're only a few minutes away from home, so we'll be alright! Thank you, Uraraka, for everything. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"Yeah, you've done enough, Round Face," Katsuki mumbles as he presses his face into the side of Eijirou's neck. "Thank you."

As Eijirou meets her eyes, he sees concern cloud her face before she nods solemnly. The true weight of the situation sinks in with just those two words. Katsuki was on death's door and hearing a thank you from him only confirms the reality they tried their hardest to push to the backs of their minds: they almost lost him today. Had that cut been any deeper, had Eijirou been too wounded to fly, had Uraraka needed more time to brew the potion, Katsuki would have died and Eijirou would have been left in this world without his soulmate.

Even the idea shakes him to his core, but Katsuki's alive and Eijirou does his best to focus on that—the feeling of his husband's strong, steady heartbeat against his back a grounding reminder—as he shifts to fly them home.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

The moment they cross the threshold into their home, Eijirou picks Katsuki up bridal-style and carries him to their bed, setting him down gently on the side he favors, nearest the wall. Katsuki grouches the entire journey, insisting that I can fucking walk on my own, I'm not some frail old hag! , but Eijirou pointedly ignores his protests as he tucks his husband in tight and kisses his forehead before going to make them both some late dinner.

Eijirou hums softly to himself as he prepares a warm chicken soup for Katsuki and himself, something he knows will help with the healing and, hopefully, comfort them both after an exhausting day. Uraraka's magic is known for being quite powerful, but also extremely draining, so he finishes as quickly as he can and brings two bowls back to their room, determined to get some food in their stomachs before they both inevitably crash.

Katsuki's leaned back against their bed frame, head resting against the wall, with his eyes closed. When he hears Eijirou's footsteps, he peeks out from under pale eyelashes and lazily folds his legs in close to his body so Eijirou can take a seat.

Eijirou sets one of the bowls on their nightstand, steam rolling off the surface in lazy spirals, then plops down on the mattress in front of Katsuki. "Here," he dips the spoon into the soup, blowing on it slightly before bringing it towards Katsuki's mouth, "it's still hot so be careful."

A tense moment of silence settles between them as their eyes meet over the spoonful of proffered soup. 

"If you don't get that spoon out of my face, I will shove it down your throat," Katsuki growls with no real bite, narrowing his eyes and taking the bowl and spoon from Eijirou's hands, careful not to spill it in his lap. "I don't need to be fed, Eijirou. Stop coddling me." He sighs and looks down at his reflection in the pale broth. "I know you're worried or whatever, but I'm fine . I'm still fucking here, aren't I? You and Round Face made sure of that." After seeing Eijirou's reluctant nod, he continues, "I'll be okay, I'll even rest like you've been nagging me about. Hell, I won't leave this bed for an entire week if it'll make you stop treating me like I'm made of goddamn glass."

"I'm sorry," Eijirou mutters, inching his hand forward to rest on Katsuki's knee and giving it a quick squeeze. "It's not because I think you're weak or helpless or frail. I'm just," he sighs, " scared , Katsuki . You almost died and it was my fault —"

"Shut up, idiot. None of that shit was your fault. You had my back like you always do and you fucking saved me. You're a goddamn hero." A soft blush paints his cheeks as he stares a hole in the wall just past Eijirou's head, voice lowering to an almost inaudible level. "You're my goddamn hero."

"Katsuki—"

Katsuki clears his throat forcefully, cutting Eijirou off before he launches into a tearful, sappy speech. "Just eat your shitty soup so we can go to sleep, I'm fucking exhausted." 

Not bothering to stifle the fond smile that spreads across his face, Eijirou nods and leans over to retrieve his bowl of soup. If he rests his weight against Katsuki when he settles back into place just to feel that connection between them, to reassure himself that Katsuki is there , that he’s alive and breathing , neither of them comment on it.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Later, as they’re settling into bed, Eijirou gets uncharacteristically quiet, a small, contemplative frown on his face as he pulls the blankets back and crawls in. He doesn’t even try to cuddle with Katsuki, doesn’t attempt to pull Katsuki in against his chest and press his cold nose against the nape of Katsuki’s neck like he does every other night, just scoots as close to the edge of the bed as he can, back facing Katsuki. The chasm of space and the uncomfortable silence that settles between them as they lay down makes Katsuki’s skin crawl.

Silence is not something that Eijirou wears well.

“Hard to fall asleep when you’re thinking so damn loud,” Katsuki mutters, but it falls just short of the teasing tone he was going for.

“Sorry, I’ll think quieter.”

“Eijirou,” Katsuki groans, turning over and staring a hole into Eijirou’s back until he flips onto his side as well, “you damn well know that isn’t what I meant. What’s going on up there?” He shuffles his body closer and flicks Eijirou’s forehead lightly, making his husband’s nose scrunch in response.

“I’m half dragon.”

“I’m well-aware.” Katsuki lets his mind wander to all the incredible, heartstopping fights they’ve been in together where Eijirou had shifted into his full form and decimated their enemies effortlessly, with little more than a swish of his tail and a burst of brilliant fire from his throat. The expression Katsuki wears when he thinks about how strong and powerful his husband is never fails to make Eijirou blush like a maiden and chastise him, so whenever Eijirou just purses his lips and says nothing, lets the silence between them drag, Katsuki feels his stomach drop. Another futile attempt to lighten the atmosphere. There’s too much weighing on them both, it seems.

“You’re human.”

Katsuki sighs heavily, settling a hand on his best friend's waist. “I know, Eijirou.” 

“I’m going to outlive you, Katsuki. By decades, maybe even a century or two. What happened today just reminded me that I’m going to lose you one day and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” Fat tears well in his eyes, spill over onto freckled cheeks in thick rivers, and Katsuki tries to wipe them away gently with his thumb as best he can, but there's little he can do against the flood.

Silence might not be something that Eijirou wears well, but heartbreak looks even worse on him.

"I'm sorry," Katsuki whispers, broken because if only he'd been faster, been stronger, been better, then Eijirou wouldn't be hurting like this. The devastation in his soulmate's eyes is his fault, his doing. He's the reason Eijirou is sobbing so hard that he can barely breathe, taking shuddering breaths that only serve to push more tears from his eyes. 

He caused this eclipse of the sun.

"I don't want to lose you." Eijirou's voice is so small, so fragile—it doesn't suit him at all and Katsuki would do anything, even fight All Might himself, if it meant he'd never hear the love of his life sound like that again.

Suddenly, Katsuki feels as if he's been struck over the head, an old memory surfacing from the recesses of his mind. "Maybe you don't have to."

"What do you mean?" Eijirou sniffles harshly, lips forming an incredulous pout.

"When I was a brat, sometimes I’d eavesdrop on the hag’s stupid meetings with my old man. Usually, it was just shitty political stuff, boring as all hell and not worth my damn time, but there was this one meeting that stood out. All I really remember is her ranting about some witch that could supposedly grant immortality—I assume she was only looking into it because she wanted to rule forever or some shit like that.”

“Did they ever find the witch?” Eijirou whispers, obviously hanging onto every word with a hopefulness that makes Katsuki’s heart ache. Anything is better than the pure devastation that was in its place just moments ago, though.

“I don’t think so. Knowing her, if the hag’d somehow achieved it, everyone in every kingdom from here to the fucking sea would’ve heard about it.”

“Oh...” He sounds shattered and Katsuki can feel his heart going down the same path.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not possible though,” Katsuki asserts, moving his hand from Eijirou’s middle to his cheek once more, resolute. “And if there’s anyone in the entire fucking universe who can figure this shit out, it’s us because we’re the best goddamn team there is. Got it?”

A small, sad smile. A final tear makes the short voyage down the slope of freckled cheeks. “Yeah. Got it.” A soft voice, a soft kiss, a soft love , meant only for Katsuki.

“Good.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

It takes a month of searching, but after countless leads that only led to dead ends and dwindling hopes, led to traveling miles upon miles to find nothing of use, Katsuki and Eijirou finally catch wind of a witch by the name of Chika. She’s said to be as old as the rugged mountains that stretch to kiss the clouds, to have seen and acquired more knowledge than most even dream of. If there is anyone in the world that would be able to pull off this impossible feat, it’s her.

When they learn of Chika, they’re given instructions on how to earn a meeting with her. Legend says that she only accepts those who are worthy and true, so they must follow every direction to the letter to prove themselves as such. Their instructions are simple:

Carve your name among those who have come before,

then make your way to the middle from the shore.

In your journey, you must be sure in your step, 

for if you falter, so shall the ice on which you tread.

At the center, you must say her name,

and only then can you ask for what you hope to gain.

With their instructions they’re told that to find Chika, they must venture to the oldest tree in the forest, a broad fuyuka with gnarled roots that stands proud on the shore of Lovers’ Lake. When they arrive at the ancient tree, the ground beneath their boots littered with silky, fragrant petals, they find dozens upon dozens of names carved into the rough bark, each with a stark strike through the middle. 

Something about the image chills Eijirou to his very core and he feels Katsuki stiffen next to him, an eerie sense of foreboding settling in both of their chests. For one moment, one brief moment , Eijirou considers turning back, considers abandoning this wild notion that they can go against fate. He can feel Katsuki’s hesitance as well, but when Eijirou closes his eyes, all he can see is Katsuki as he was in that fight, pale and bleeding out into the grass, and decides that, no , they’re not going back. 

They’re doing this.

Steeling himself, Eijirou steps forward, drawing his knife from its holster and stabbing it into the bark. With quick, jagged strokes, he carves the kanji for his name in one of the few free spaces left on the tree’s trunk, then passes the knife over his shoulder to Katsuki. Katsuki shoves the knife into the tree violently, scratching his name next to Eijirou’s, then flicks his eyes over to Eijirou before dragging the knife around their names. Silky hair falls into Eijirou’s hair as he cocks his head and watches Katsuki finish up whatever he’s doing. 

When Katsuki steps away from the tree, showing off the crude heart he carved around their names, Eijirou feels his own flutter in his chest. “That’s actually really sweet of you—”

“I know.”

Eijirou lets out a chuckle, despite his apprehension surrounding the entire situation. “You really have to ruin every nice moment, huh?” 

“Damn right.” Katsuki matches his smile, though Katsuki’s is more akin to a feral grin, and joins Eijirou by the edge of the water, handing back his knife.

Giving the tree one last glance, Eijirou hums, a bit distressed seeing their names among all those that came before them even with—or maybe because of —the sentimental addition, then sighs, sheathing the knife. Taking his husband’s hands in his own, Eijirou presses his lips together in a worried frown. “Are you sure you want to do this? If either of us aren’t totally sure—”

“—then we’ll fucking fall through the ice or some shit. I know, Eijirou. If you’re having doubts, then we can stop and get the hell out of here, but I’m all in because I want as much time with you as I can get. That’s probably greedy or whatever, but it’s the truth and I’m gonna do whatever it fucking takes to make it happen. You’re my damn soulmate, the love of my fucking life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and if that old hag witch is the only thing that stands in the way of us spending the rest of time together, then I’ll explode her into next week if I have to. No questions asked.”

Eijirou searches his face for a few tense moments, seeing not a hint of doubt or uncertainty, and nods, letting his husband’s usual fierce determination wash away his own hesitance. Cracking together two scaled fists, Eijirou flashes his signature grin. “Let’s do this then!”

Now sure in their decision and sure in their step, Eijirou and Katsuki start their journey towards the center of the lake and towards their meeting with Chika. The first step on the ice sends a jolt up Eijirou’s spine, instinctual fear of the ice giving way under their weight lancing through him, but when Katsuki’s fingers intertwine with his as a show of solidarity, of certainty, Eijirou feels that fear melt away and takes another. 

And another. 

And another. 

One foot in front of the other, until they’re standing in the dead center of the frozen lake.

There’s a crisp breeze sweeping across the surface of the ice, filling the silence around them with menacing howling and the loud flapping of Katsuki’s cape and Eijirou’s scarf whipping in the wind. “You ready?” Katsuki shouts over the noise and Eijirou opts to just grab his other hand in lieu of a response.

The moment the last syllable of the witch’s thrice-chanted name leaves their lips, an ominous cracking noise fills the air, adding to the cacophony. In the blink of an eye, the ice starts to fracture out in spidery paths, freezing water shooting up in high, wide arcs over their heads through the fissures. The cracks slowly form a circle around them until finally, the two ends meet and send the pair plummeting into the frigid depths below.

However, before they can even struggle or try to reach the surface of the water, before the icy tendrils have gripped them tight and chilled them to the bone, they’re miraculously standing in a small cottage filled from floor to ceiling in books.

“Soulmates, are you?” A creaky voice fills the space, echoing off the walls in an eerie chorus. A flash of light bursts in front of them and suddenly, a woman who must only be Chika stands before them. Greying emerald hair pulled into a neat braid down a hunched back, sharp blue eyes clear and focused on the couple, Chika’s presence fills the room despite her short stature.

Both Katsuki and Eijirou are shivering violently, soaked head to toe and dripping onto what was once a beautifully patterned rug, but is now but a drab, frayed imitation of its former glory, so Eijirou uses his dragon’s breath to dry them and their clothes, hoping to chase away the chill from the water and the chill from Chika’s probing stare. As he concentrates, he keeps a close eye on the witch, prepared to protect Katsuki with his life if need be. When he’s done and steps in front of Katsuki, growl rumbling in his throat and slitted eyes narrowed in a threat as he lets his claws come out and hardened scales travel up his forearms, Katsuki scoffs and lightly pushes him aside. “What the fuck just happened?”

“You’ve started the trials to determine if you’re worthy of my assistance with achieving extended life. This is your first step in an impossible journey.”

Eijirou furrows his brows, casting a look at his husband. “How did you know that’s why we came to you?”

With one bony hand, Chika conjures up a shimmery image of the tree on the shoreline. “It is what they all came for,” she tells them, before the image of the tree bursts into flames, crumbles to ashes, and blows away right before their eyes. “What makes you better than them? Why should you be able to go against nature’s order? Why should I disrupt the balance of the world for you ?” she sneers at them, stepping closer and seeming to grow in size. 

Katsuki bares his teeth, crowds into the witch’s space and grits out, “We’re better and more worthy than any of those other fuckers that have come to you before. We can take anything you throw at us.”

The witch lets out a crackling laugh, incredulous and disbelieving and clearly indicative of the fact that they’re dissuading her even further. She turns to Eijirou. “Halfling, you already have a lifespan that surpasses that of a human’s. Why are you asking for more? Are you truly that selfish? That greedy ?”

Eijirou meets her eyes, posture guarded but unwavering as he stares her down. “It’s not for me.”

“Then why are you standing before me, if he is the one that must face my trials?”

“We’re a team. Anywhere he goes, I go. I’d follow him to the ends of the earth. No way in hell was I letting him do this alone.”

“How chivalrous,” she cackles. “I usually do not allow ‘teams’ or assistance of any kind, but I suppose I can make an exception for soulmates.” 

There’s something in the witch’s tone that makes the hair on the back of Eijirou’s neck stand on end, but when Chika flicks her eyes between the two of them, eyes seeming to bore directly into their very souls, and asks them if they want to face the final test, he takes Katsuki’s hand in his and says, steady and true, “Yes. Do your worst. We’re unbreakable.”

After a quick “very well then, soulmates ”, Chika says some ancient words under her breath and closes the small distance between them, pressing her palms against both of their foreheads.

Then.

Only darkness.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

When Katsuki wakes, his head feels as if a stake is being driven through it. His pulse slams against his temples as he sits up in an unfamiliar bed, groaning, and moves to stand. Before his feet even hit the ground, however, a hand shoots out from under the covers to rest on his arm.

“Ka’suki?” A deep voice thick with sleep slurs out and Katsuki feels his entire frame freeze as the body belonging to the voice sits up. Long, vibrant red hair spills over freckled, bare shoulders as the stranger sits up, stretching toned arms over his head with a loud yawn. Rubbing a scarred fist into a big, round eye, the man fully turns to Katsuki and cocks his head. “Katsuki, are you alright?” He squeezes Katsuki’s arm in his warm grip and that’s what finally pulls Katsuki from his frozen state.

The pounding of his head makes it hard to think, but Katsuki tries to figure out where he could have possibly met this man before, searching his memories for this man who so obviously knows him. He comes up empty, and not just for recollections of this stranger, but also for memories of the last decade or so of his life. There’s giant gaps in his memory, but he knows he’s not a teenager anymore; the last major thing he clearly remembers is his birthday—his seventeenth maybe?—and an extravagant party being thrown in his honor, then tiny bits and pieces from the years since. That’s it. A giant chunk of his life is just—gone. He obviously has amnesia and Katsuki’s top suspect is the man sharing a bed with him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Katsuki growls, jolting to his feet and letting his fire magic burst from his palms threateningly, but instead of looking scared, the man before him just looks confused, lips downturned in a perplexed frown, and, upon further inspection, hurt . Katsuki doesn’t let himself dwell on that though, he’s too busy figuring out how to get far away from this shitty-haired stranger in his bed and find his way back to his kingdom. He’ll figure out the memory loss shit once he gets home.

“You—you really don’t know who I am?” the man asks, wilting like a flower picked for a lover then left in the dark. His eyes look desolate and aching as they flit around Katsuki’s face frantically before he sighs wearily and slowly stands. As he pulls a shirt over his head and winds a crimson scarf around his neck, he mutters, “I think I know what’s happened and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’ll give you as many answers as I can if you just wait for me here until I get back. Please .”

Upon seeing the devastated look on the man’s face, far too upset by the news of Katsuki’s lack of recognition to be the cause, Katsuki decides that the guy’s the furthest thing from a threat to him right now and nods, agrees to see how this pans out.

“Oh, and my name is Kirishima,” he murmurs, voice dripping with a sadness that almost tugs at Katsuki's heart as he pulls on a coat and leaves the cottage.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Again, Eijirou finds himself traveling in the direction of Uraraka’s cottage without a second thought. Chika uses an ancient sort of magic, much older than anything Uraraka practices, but their friend has an impressive collection of old spellbooks that might offer some insight, so she’s their best bet right now.

As Eijirou makes his way to Uraraka’s, biting wind whipping his already disheveled hair into his face and cutting through his layers to nip at his skin, all he can hear is Katsuki asking, “who the fuck are you?”; the five words rattle around in his head, stuck on a painful loop and digging their way further and further under the dragon’s skin with each pass. 

By the time he finally makes it to her door, he’s shivering uncontrollably. Icy tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but when asked by a soft, concerned voice, he swipes them away with a chuckle, blames them on the arctic winds he fought on the trek. Uraraka is kind enough to wrap him in a thick blanket and steer Eijirou to sit in front of a roaring fire while she makes some tea for the both of them, but he knows none of it is going to help the chill that’s settled over his heart and over his soul.

“Katsuki doesn’t remember me.” His voice is small and weak as he takes the cup of tea from her hands when she returns. Before she can voice the confusion that’s so clearly evident on her face, he tells her about their journey to see Chika, about the meeting with the witch, and about this morning with Katsuki between sips of the warm drink. 

Uraraka listens patiently, nodding along quietly, then, when he finishes, purses her lips in thought for a moment. “It’s obvious that she’s cursed you, so we just need to figure out what kind of curse she used and then we can figure out how to break it.” She reaches out to lay a hand on Eijirou’s arm and squeezes it lightly. “All hope isn’t lost, Kirishima. We’ll get him back.” When Eijirou hums half-heartedly, she stands with a small huff and starts to peruse her collection. 

After taking one final swig of the tea, he joins her, collecting a stack of the oldest books he can find in her library in his arms then gingerly sets them down on the kitchen table where Katsuki nearly died just a few, short weeks ago. While Uraraka flits back and forth from room to room, adding more and more to their mountain of literature, each book she adds to the pile looking older than the last, Eijirou begins to leaf through an ancient text with elaborate runes embossed on the cover. When that tome offers nothing of value, he chooses a second book and repeats the process. He makes it through four volumes before Uraraka finally settles in next to him, having apparently exhausted her stock, and picks up her own book to skim.

They work diligently and hours pass in seconds, the pile of unread books slowly dwindling down to a handful of volumes that look as if they will crumble to dust if someone were to lay a hand on them. When Eijirou flips the final page of one of their last books, he sets it aside and pinches the bridge of his nose, staving off a headache and the hopelessness that’s slowly creeping up on him.

“I’ve got it!” Uraraka shrieks suddenly, pulling Eijirou out of his mild wallowing with a start. Waving the book she’s holding frantically, her entire being lights up as she gushes, “True Love’s Kiss! That’s how you break the curse!” There’s happiness radiating from her ink-stained—it seems that she must have rested one of her cheeks on a page earlier—face and Eijirou can’t help but match her smile despite the small pit forming in his stomach.

“I have to make Katsuki fall in love with me again?”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

With a thermos full of tea for the trip, Eijirou braves the weather once more to make his way back to his and Katsuki’s house. He briefly considers shifting to fly home, knows it’d cut down on travel time, but he decides that he’d rather walk and use that extra time to get his head on straight. It helps to have this new light of hope that this curse can be broken and even though the task is daunting, he got Katsuki to fall for him once before, so he can do it again! They’re soulmates, Eijirou’s sure of that fact, so he’s cautiously optimistic about his chances. The love that they share transcends some stupid curse cast on them by a bitter witch, so, by the time he arrives home, to the home they built together as husbands, the pit in his stomach is long gone and his head is held high.

That is, until he opens the door to their home and he’s ambushed by his amnesiac husband. 

The moment he crosses the threshold, Katsuki jumps on his back, pressing a rapidly heating palm against the side of Eijirou’s head with a menacing growl. Setting the thermos down carefully, Eijirou raises his arms placatingly and speaks calmly, “Kat—Bakugou, I’m not going to hurt you. I have answers about what happened to you, but you’re not gonna get them if you blow my head off.” Even with his most powerful blasts, Katsuki couldn’t actually severely injure him, his hardened scales have held up again and again against his husband’s magic, but revealing that he’s a half-dragon doesn’t seem like the best decision given the situation. “Get off my back and I’ll happily explain.”

Grumbling, Katsuki climbs off Eijirou’s back and crosses his arms, obviously waiting for Eijirou to start talking, so Eijirou does. He explains everything—that a witch with powerful, ancient magic cursed Katsuki and took every memory he has that involves Eijirou; they’ve been practically inseparable since they were teenagers, which explains why there are such large gaps in his timeline.

With Katsuki’s trust in him already so fragile, only held on by a desperation for answers and the pieces to fill in the puzzle of his life, Eijirou decides to omit the truth about their relationship. It pains Eijirou to lie to him so blatantly, to tell his husband that they aren’t anything more than best friends to explain the closeness and the use of given names in a way that Katsuki can easily digest in his vulnerable state. It hurts, but he knows that if he disclosed that information, Katsuki would be out the door before he could even finish the word ‘husband’. 

It’s for the best.

Or so he thinks.

“Best friends? Best friends ? You must think I’m a goddamn idiot! If you actually knew me like you say you do, you’d know I don’t have ‘friends.’” Katsuki spits the words, understandably skeptical and hardly able to even look at Eijirou right now, contempt and mistrust lighting a fire in his eyes. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, Shitty Hair, but I trust you just about as far as I can throw you,” he hisses through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger into Eijirou’s chest.

A weary sigh leaves Eijirou’s lips as he rubs at his eyes harshly, trying to chase away the stinging. “What do I have to gain by lying to you, man? I know you have no reason to trust me. Hell, I wouldn’t trust me.” He throws his hands up in the air with a defeated huff. “But I swear I’m telling you the truth. Ask me anything, I have nothing to hide.”

“Do you know that I’m a fucking prince or are you just stupid? I could have you executed for kidnapping by sunrise.” He levels Eijirou with a condescending look and Eijirou resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Of course I know you’re a prince, Bakugou. Lived with you in your castle for a bit, even. Also, I’m not forcing you to stay here. You can leave whenever you want.” It’s not like I can stop you , a heartbroken voice whispers in his mind. He’s forced to look away from Katsuki’s intense, scrutinizing gaze to hide the dejection no doubt showing on his face.

“You lived in the castle,” Katsuki parrots, incredulity lacing his tone.

“Yeah, for a little less than a year, then we escaped.” Glimpses of that day, the earth far below them as they soared high above the trees and away from their prison, fill Eijirou’s mind.

“How?”

“How what?”

“How did we escape?”

So much for leaving the dragon reveal until they’re on less precarious grounds. “I’m a dragon shifter.”

A harsh scoff. “No fucking way, now I know you’re fucking with me.”

Eijirou sighs for what must be the thousandth time in an hour, then wills his wings to emerge from his back, pushing through the thick fabric of his coat and ruffling the scarf draped over his shoulder. “Proof enough for you or should I go outside and fully shift?”

For the first time since they woke up this morning, Katsuki looks like himself . Eyes alight with wonder, looking so similar to that fateful birthday when he laid eyes on his dragon for the first time, he reaches out towards Eijirou, but doesn’t make contact until Eijirou gives him a small nod, eyebrows knitting together.

Eijirou’s wings instinctually flinch when touched with a probing hand, but relax under the careful touch. A soft exhale as rough fingers trace the leathery skin, along the thin veins, admiration evident in the caution taken. Katsuki’s touch is so familiar and grounding that Eijirou feels the tension melt from his shoulders while making his heart clench in tandem. 

It’s only been a few hours, but Eijirou’s missed this more than he can say.

The comfort is ripped from him a few short moments later, when, blinking rapidly, Katsuki seems to come back to himself and forcefully shakes his head as he yanks his hand away. “Okay, guess you’re not making that shit up. Don’t think that means I trust you, though. You’re still sketchy as shit.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” Eijirou murmurs as he pulls his wings back into himself.

The interaction seems to have chipped away at the distrust in Katsuki’s eyes, however, leaving him looking just the tiniest bit more receptive to what Eijirou has to say. “When’d we meet?”

“Kinda depends on how you look at it.”

“Start making some damn sense, Shitty Hair.”

“When we were kids, maybe eight or so, I was shot down by some dragon hunters and got caught in a snare. I would’ve died if you hadn’t found me and brought help and for a while after that, we were basically inseparable. Then one day, while we were out training together with Aizawa, the hunters came looking for me. They attacked us and you fought as hard as you could to make sure that I could get away and wouldn’t be taken. We had to split up that day, but by some stroke of fate, we found our way back to each other nine years later. I assume your seventeenth birthday is your last memory?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Katsuki nods hesitantly, so Eijirou continues, “That’s when we were brought back together again. Your mother got me as a present for you.”

“Wait,” Katsuki shoots Eijirou a confused look, “what the hell did you just say? You were my pet ?”

Eijirou cringes. “Uh, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck and lets out a humorless chuckle in a futile attempt to dispel the discomfort. “I guess in their defense, no one knew I was shifter until after we escaped together and I revealed myself to you. Figured it was safer for me that way. Then once you followed through on your promise to get us both out of there, I knew I could trust you and we’ve been together ever since. I Swore myself to you for the rest of my life and, eventually, you Swore yourself to me in return, as equals.”

There’s the faintest hint of indignation evident in Katsuki’s features, something Eijirou recognizes from the many times they’ve discussed the unfortunate circumstances that led to them meeting again after so much time, but it’s clear he’s still battling with his skepticism and it seems to be winning out. Carmine eyes search his for a moment, narrowed and calculating, as if trying to read Eijirou’s mind, determine if he’s telling the truth, before a scoff escapes his husband’s lips. “No one has ever been my equal, least of all some weak ass lizard. Try again.”

“It’s the truth whether you want to believe it or not, Bakugou.” Eijirou makes sure to keep his voice even and firm. Now’s not the time to let himself drown in the many conflicting emotions swirling in his head. “I’ve proved myself again and again over the years, I’ve earned my place by your side. We’re sworn partners and I know you can feel that connection, that’s not something that just goes away.”

“Then fucking unswear to me or whatever because I don’t want that shit!”

Those words force a harsh shudder through Eijirou’s body, striking something deep within him. Physical pain rips through him at the idea of being forced to unswear again , to break that bond they’ve forged. His senses are overcome with the instinct to protect that sacred vow, finds himself spitting words like fire in his fury. “No! You’re not allowed to do that again! It means something even if you don’t remember! You can’t just throw it away like it doesn’t mean anything!” Like I don’t mean anything.

Taken aback, Katsuki blinks once, twice. Wrinkles his nose in disgust, builds up his walls even higher than they were before. “What the fuck ever,” he hisses out. “Keep your shitty bond, see if I care. I won’t have to deal with it much longer anyway,” he mumbles the last bit under his breath, barely audible over Eijirou’s heart pounding in his ears, as he stalks out of the room. 

Eijirou feels himself deflate under the pressing weight of the entire situation, his anger dissolving into a bone-deep tiredness paired with a guilt that coils dark and heavy in his chest. It’s not fair for him to get upset with Katsuki right now— he knows —so he follows Katsuki into the living room, head hanging low in shame. "I'm sorry. I'm mad at the situation and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have snapped at you," he admits, standing in front of where Katsuki has propped his legs up on the table in front of their sofa.

Crossing his arms behind his head, Katsuki leans back and closes his eyes, huffing derisively. "I don't care, Shitty Hair. I don’t even fucking know you and I don’t concern myself with extras that I don’t give a damn about. All I care about is where I’m sleeping while I’m stuck in this hellhole because this couch is uncomfortable as hell and it better not be here.”

“Uh, yeah, c’mon,” he says quietly. “I’ll show you your room.” Eijirou ushers Katsuki out of the living room and leads him towards the small room tucked away in the corner of their home, thanking whatever gods can hear him that they have a guest bedroom—not that it has ever gotten any use in the time they’ve lived here—so he doesn’t have to explain to Katsuki that they share a room, share a bed . “It gets a bit cold in there, so we can go to the market and get you a couple extra blankets tomorrow, if you need them.”

“Don’t fucking bother, I won’t be here long enough for it to matter anyway.”

“Wh—” he clears his throat harshly in hopes of covering the way his voice cracks as he turns to face Katsuki, “What do you mean?” Please don’t say it , Eijirou begs in his mind, please give me time to get you to love me again.

“I want to go home.”

“But this is your home,” his voice is almost inaudible over the roaring of a harsh wind blowing in a fierce storm.

Grinding his teeth, Katsuki takes fistfuls of his hair and yanks, a frustrated growl tearing out of him. “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me, Kirishima! I’m not the same person you knew, so no, this isn’t my home! My home is my kingdom, with the hag and the old man! I can’t fucking stay here and you can’t keep me here! I’m going back home whether you like it or not!”

“Fine, but I’m not letting you go alone.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Katsuki rounds on him, looking like a cobra ready to strike. “You’re not letting me? Who are you, my mother? You don’t get a say in what I do, asshole!”

Fuck , why did Eijirou marry the most stubborn man in all the realms? “I’m not telling you you can’t go, I’m telling you that I’m going with you. You’re not going alone ,” he reiterates, not bowing under Katsuki’s savage glare. 

“I don’t fucking want you coming with me!”

“Too bad! I’m a damn dragon, Bakugou! I can fly! It’d cut travel time in half, you’d be stupid not to take me along.”

This makes Katsuki pause, give him a once-over as he considers Eijirou’s proposition. “Fine, but only because your lizard ass could be useful. We leave at sunrise.”

Eijirou scoffs. “The trip to your kingdom isn’t just a day’s journey, even with my ability to fly when conditions are clear. We’ll need to gather supplies, prepare, plan for the weather that’s definitely coming our way. We can’t leave tomorrow, that’s just not possible.”

Katsuki’s jaw clenches and he whips his head away, staring a hole in the wall opposite Eijirou. “Fine, fucking whatever . I’ll put up with your annoying ass for as long as it takes to get everything ready, then I’m leaving. Not a second longer, you hear me?”

“Fine,” Eijirou whispers, feeling grief-stricken and drained and so goddamn defeated that he can’t even manage to put up a fight any longer. As he’s left standing on the verge of tears in the hallway when Katsuki slams the door to their guest room, Eijirou can't help but wonder how he ever earned Katsuki's love in the first place.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

After Eijirou settles into the bed that they used to share, he finally lets the tears he’s been holding back flow free. Pressing a hand against his mouth to stifle his hiccups and sobs, he focuses on all the memories he and Katsuki share, the life that Katsuki has had stolen from him. He relishes in the years they’ve spent together and the burning love that has grown between them over that time—a love that might seem smothered now, but Eijirou knows deep in his soul can be reignited. He lets the memories wash over him, stoke the small flame of hope that still stirs in his heart. He can't give up, no matter how bad the situation may seem.

Katsuki wouldn't give up if he were the one in Eijirou's place.

So, he lets himself grieve, lets himself feel everything that's been building inside of him since he woke this morning next to a man who didn't remember him so that he can keep moving forward, keep pushing against the odds.

There's so much noise inside his head that he almost misses a soft knock at his door just a short half hour later. “Yeah?” he calls, sitting up and wiping his face a bit frantically as he lets his blanket pool around his waist.

Grumbling, Katsuki pushes the door open, but doesn’t cross the threshold, just loiters in the doorway with his arms crossed and gaze focused anywhere but on Eijirou. “Cold as fuck in there. Can’t sleep.”

“Here,” Eijirou stands and starts to pull the thick blanket off their bed with a hum, folding it over his arm then handing it to Katsuki, “just take this. I don’t really get cold and I’m not going to get much sleep tonight, anyway.” He flashes what he hopes is a reassuring smile, but feels more like it might resemble a grimace.

Intense carmine eyes fall on him, narrowing slightly as they flit around his face, seeming to focus on his red, puffy eyes. “Just fucking—scoot over. We can share it. Bed’s big enough for the two of us.” Tossing the blanket back on the bed, Katsuki looks as if he’s wrestling with himself, deep in thought as he climbs into the side of the bed nearest the wall. “If we’re going to be making this huge fucking trip, I need you well-rested. Can’t have you fucking falling out of the sky or something.”

“Right,” Eijirou mutters, sliding back into the bed and keeping as much distance as he can between their bodies. There's a good chance they'll wake pressed against each other, legs tangled together, due to Eijirou's tendency to gravitate towards Katsuki in his sleep.

The last thing Katsuki needs in this situation is to wake up with a stranger’s arms wrapped around him, face pressed into the hollow of his throat. Eijirou’s sure that that would only prove to further annoy Katsuki—and possibly even unsettle him, not that Katsuki would ever admit to being unsettled, show that weakness.

Once Katsuki has turned over, breath evening out as his body all but melts into the mattress, Eijirou slips out of the room as quietly as he can to raid their sofa for the mismatched pillows they decorate with. Arms full, he sneaks back into the room and stacks the extra pillows in the middle of the bed, creating a barrier between the two of them.

As Eijirou’s balancing the final pillow atop his small wall, Katsuki finally flips over, exasperated at all the jostling and rustling. "What the hell are you doing, idiot?"

"Just trust me, man.” Eijirou hums, pleased, as he sits back and admires his work. “You’ll thank me for it.”

Propping himself up on an elbow to peak over the barrier, Katsuki raises an eyebrow at Eijirou and scoffs. “You gonna smother me to death or something?” 

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Eijirou laughs, loud and bright, that tiny ember of optimism smoldering inside him flaring up at the sound. “Yes, Bakugou, I’m a dragon and could kill you with the swipe of my hand, but I’m going to smother you in your sleep with a pillow embroidered with white roses. That’s been my evil plan all along. You’ve figured it out.”

“Like hell you could kill me that easy, Shitty Hair!”

“Sure, Bakugou,” he agrees amenably, laying down with a yawn. “Goodnight.”

The mattress jolts as Katsuki flops back with a grumble, making the tower of pillows teeter precariously. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Eijirou is woken up by a smack to the face, sitting up with a start and partially shifting to prepare himself for an attack. Eyes blurry with sleep and arms poised in front of him defensively, he pivots in the bed to put himself between the door and Katsuki, moving purely on instinct to protect his husband.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki’s voice coming out from behind him forces him to turn and blink his eyes rapidly, focusing fully to see that the only threat to him is the blond with a pillow raised above his head and prepared to strike a second time. 

Oh.

There’s no danger, just an angry Katsuki, which is nothing new.

Relief floods Eijirou’s system as he lets his scales melt away from where they wound their way up his arms to act as a shield. “Damn, you scared me, man.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki scoffs derisively as he lets the pillow plop down on the bed. “If I wake up with these damn pillows piled on top of me one more goddamn time, I will not hesitate to skin your lizard ass and make boots out of you.”

Better the pillows than me , Eijirou retorts in his mind, thankfully catching himself before saying it aloud. “Ah, sorry. Figured you’d be more comfortable with something between us, but I can put them away if they’re bothering you.”

“They are,” Katsuki grouches as he rolls out of bed, then mutters something about going to take a bath before padding out of the room and down the hall, closing a door somewhere else in the house. 

As the water starts to fill their bathtub, the noise rumbling through the entire house, Eijirou rifles through their closet to pick out clothes for Katsuki. It seems that the gods finally answered his prayers begging them to make the blizzard that should have wreaked its havoc then blown through on that first night, but decide to slow its movement and stretch its life over five long, torturous days pass so that he and Katsuki could finally get out of the house.

There was no way that the two of them could venture out to the market to start collecting supplies until the storm passed, leaving them both confined to the house to be at each other’s throats 24/7 and go stir-crazy together. Eijirou is a patient man, but these past several days have tested him in a way that little else has. If they don’t leave this house soon, Eijirou’s worried that they might actually kill each other.

Sighing heavily, he grabs Katsuki’s clothes, folding them neatly before setting them on the ground outside of their bathroom and knocking lightly to let Katsuki know they’re there for him when he’s ready. He returns to their room to collect the mountain of pillows then deposits them back on the couch where they belong before going to change clothes himself.

Once Katsuki is dressed and they’re both ready to leave, they dissolve into the same argument they’ve been having for days now. Eijirou pulls on his outerwear on the 6th day of this hell and levels Katsuki with a withering look. “You couldn’t leave in this weather, Katsuki. You would’ve frozen to death before you made it to the market that wasn’t even open ,” he emphasizes pointedly, irritation overcoming him. It seems that Katsuki’s making up for his lack of memories by being even more stubborn than usual and the cabin fever they’ve both been experiencing is wearing away at Eijirou’s normally calm temperament. 

"Why the hell do you keep calling me that?" Katsuki shouts in reply, a demand rather than a question.

It takes a moment for Eijirou to register what he’s asking, then he’s pouting, lip jutting out petulantly. "It’s a habit, man! I've called you Katsuki since we were kids. I can't even remember the last time I said 'Bakugou'. You used to call me Eijirou too, y'know! You've always preferred 'idiot', though." At least that hasn't changed, Eijirou thinks ruefully, and maybe a bit bitterly.

Between them, ‘ idiot ’ has always been more of a pet name than an insult, sung with a teasing tongue the same way others might say ‘ dear ’ or ‘ love .’ It’s never something that Eijirou has taken personally because even when they’d first met, Katsuki had never said it with true malice, never made it bite like a viper. All the hundreds of thousands of times that Katsuki has called Eijirou an idiot, it’s never been harsh like it is now. Suddenly, the same words that used to roll off Eijirou’s back with a dismissive chuckle are now hitting far too close to home, digging too deep under Eijirou’s usually unbreakable skin. ‘Idiot’ isn’t paired with a thinly-veiled fond smile and exaggerated eye roll anymore, it’s paired with bared teeth and a hateful glare. 

‘Idiot’ used to be warm, but these days it feels more like a tundra.

“Yeah, well, I’ll be caught dead before I ever call you that again and your Katsuki ,” he sing-songs mockingly, bitterness seeping into his voice, “isn’t coming back!”

“I know that,” Eijirou whimpers, trying to fight the stinging of tears clawing at his throat as his annoyance quickly dissolves into dejection. “You think I don’t know that?” 

Over the course of their confinement to the house, Eijirou’s felt his optimism about earning Katsuki’s love again slowly waning along with his patience and easy disposition. There are moments when he can almost swear his Katsuki is back, moments when Katsuki will huff lightly at a joke that Eijirou makes and he feels that little flame of hope in his heart flicker to life once more, but just as quickly, Katsuki will throw a vicious remark his way, falling from his usual abrasiveness into downright cruel territory, and that fire is doused once more. 

When he’s not berating Eijirou, he’s talking about going home, most of his time very pointedly talking about how much he hates staying with Eijirou and how much better things are in his kingdom. Katsuki hated his time in the kingdom and they both know it; Katsuki’s only saying these things to dig at Eijirou, make him hurt.

Eijirou hates that it’s working.

He’d hoped that if Katsuki spent more time with him, then he’d be able to convince his husband not to leave, but it seems like it’s only pushing Katsuki further and further away. Everything he does just serves to bring Katsuki more out of reach. What feels like one step forward is followed by two steps back, a losing battle with no end in sight.

At this point, Eijirou’s starting to realize that maybe he needs to accept the very real possibility that Katsuki might never come to love him again and might leave his life forever; Eijirou might need to resign himself to this fate brought on them by their hubris.

“Well, those goddamn pathetic puppy eyes you’re wearing all the time say otherwise!” Katsuki pulls him from his self-loathing with a sneer, throwing the door open and letting icy wind sweep into their warm home to cut Eijirou deep along with his biting words.

“Well, soon you won’t have to look at my goddamn pathetic puppy eyes anymore,” Eijirou bites back spitefully, trying to hide just how far Katsuki has gotten under his skin.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, Katsuki’s voice bounces around in his head as they silently make the trek to the neighboring town’s market.

Eijirou hates that he’s right.

When the small market finally comes into view a short time later, stalls and booths swarming with people and buzzing with activity, Eijirou stops Katsuki’s determined march with an outstretched arm pressed against his chest. Katsuki doesn’t flinch away from the touch, something Eijirou tries not to focus on, lest it give him false hope, as he whispers, “I do know that the Bakugou I know likely isn’t coming back.” The oppressive silence that’s settled between them over their short journey finally proves too much for his aching heart and he can’t stop the words that begin to pour from his mouth. “This whole thing has all been really hard on me, that’s no secret. Having my Bakugou taken away has hurt me so deeply, but I haven’t been fair to you. I miss my," king "friend," it comes out awkward and stilted and Eijirou winces at how his voice lilts up like a question at the end, but he presses on, “more than I can say, but I’m letting that grief blind me to the fact that you’re experiencing a loss and grieving, too. I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend to you during all of this. I’ve been selfish.”

“I already told you I don’t care, Shitty Hair.” Katsuki pushes past Eijirou’s arm and steps into the market. “You’re allowed to have feelings or whatever. Shit would be easier if you’d just—stop obsessing over it though. Let’s just move on.”

Eijirou hums noncommittally, desperately trying to not let his mood drop as the subject does.

They browse for a while, picking out a few new articles of thick, insulated clothing and falling into the closest thing they’ve had to companionable silence since Katsuki woke up without his memories. Every few minutes, Katsuki will point out something on Eijirou’s list he scribbled down before they left the house, waiting for Eijirou’s approval before grabbing it and moving away to let Eijirou pay the vendor with a gold coin or two. He’ll also occasionally point out things that seem to remind him of Eijirou, feigning indifference all the while. A small dragon figurine. A fish with sharp teeth eerily similar to Eijirou’s own. A bright red knitted blanket. Eijirou actually hangs back as Katsuki wanders off to the next booth to buy the latter, justifying to himself that they can always use an extra blanket on their journey, even if they’ve already bought three today, and he’s not just purchasing it because it made Katsuki think of him.

As he’s paying, sifting through the coins in his hand for the total, he hears Katsuki’s voice over the crowd. "I need any maps you have to Aurelia," he demands gruffly, making the cartographer raise an eyebrow, but not make a move towards the many scrolls atop their table. "Now!"

Placing the payment into the hand of the merchant and shoving the rest of the money into his pocket, Eijirou nods a quick thank you for the blanket, then jogs over to the booth Katsuki’s standing in front of to diffuse the situation. "Ah," Eijirou flashes a charming smile at the irritated cartographer, "so sorry about him! We'll be on our way now, hope you have a good day!"

Wrapping an arm around Katsuki and earning a warning growl from the blond, Eijirou tugs Katsuki back away from the table and steers them towards the booths stocked with food, their bags of supplies in tow.

"What the hell was that, idiot?" Katsuki yanks out of Eijirou's grasp and sneers, "Last time I checked, we need maps to fucking navigate!"

"We do, but we have one at home that we can use, so there’s no reason to cause a big scene." The distrustful look gracing Katsuki's face prompts Eijirou to continue, "A few years back, you wanted to create your own map, so we spent a lot of time travelling. Charted from the mountains in the west to the sea, took us months." He sighs dreamily, looking into the distance as he reminisces on the time they spent exploring together. "It's really something, Bakugou.” Voice dropping to just above a whisper, he leans in close to Katsuki’s ear as he walks. “Definitely better than anything you can buy around here."

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Katsuki mutters, skeptical as he browses the baked goods set before him, fresh from the oven and smelling heavenly. He picks a few things out, filling a bag with ingredients for what looks to be one of Katsuki’s favorite dishes to cook, and the sight makes Eijirou’s heart squeeze and nearly shatter under the pressure. It’s familiar, heartachingly so—a painful parallel of countless days spent together, bickering over what to have for dinner and how to tell if a melon is ripe. Days that Eijirou took for granted, days he didn’t appreciate enough, days he’ll never get back.

What cruel fate it is that in their search for more time together, they only found themselves with less time than they’d ever expected.

“Shitty Hair?” 

Startled from his reverie, Eijirou hums in reply, then makes himself busy by sifting through the assortment of fruits in front of him, trying to find the best in the bunch. 

“You got a girlfriend or wife or whatever?”

Hand wrapped around an orange, he freezes, feeling heat travel up his neck. He should’ve known this was coming, and yet he still finds himself embarrassed by the question. “Why do you ask?” He feigns nonchalance, hoping it’ll convince Katsuki to drop the subject, deter this line of questioning. Not exactly a conversation he wants to have with his husband.

“Well, if you’re telling the truth about everything—”

“I am!” Eijirou cuts Katsuki off, turning to face him and receiving a harsh glare in response for interrupting.

“ If you’re telling the truth about everything ,” Katsuki repeats pointedly, irritation coloring his voice, “then we live together, which is probably the first sign that you’re not married because why the fuck would you live with your ‘best friend’ if you have a girlfriend.” He places air-quotes around the words mockingly like he still doesn’t believe Eijirou. “Plus, we’ve been cooped up in that goddamn house for five straight days and no one’s come knocking on the door looking for you.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes, assessing Eijirou. “On the other hand, when you disappeared that first day, you were gone for five goddamn hours and came back with a thermos full of tea and smelling like some shitty floral perfume, which makes me wonder if you were visiting some chick.”

Eijirou sighs, watching as his nail digs into the peel of the orange in his hand to avoid Katsuki’s eye. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend or wife or whatever . That day, I went to visit one of our friends, Uraraka—who absolutely would have your head for calling her a ‘chick’, by the way. She’s a mage and knows a lot about ancient magic, so I figured she’d be the best person to ask about your curse and how to break it.”

“ Five goddamn hours , Shitty Hair. Five fucking hours of me twiddling my thumbs waiting for you, which was annoying as all hell. Did you at least find out how to break it after that shit?”

“Uh,” Eijirou chuckles half-heartedly, ruffling a hand through his hair, “no, we didn’t.” Upon seeing Katsuki’s face crumble almost imperceptibly, that little pit of guilt he’s been harboring since he omitted the fact that he and Katsuki are married grows bigger, but he can’t tell this truth either. 

He’s already asking so much of Katsuki just by having him stay with him the couple weeks they need to plan this cross-country trek. Katsuki is stuck in an unfamiliar place, forced to put faith in a total stranger that he can never fully trust, a stranger he can never be absolutely sure wasn’t the reason he’s had his life stripped away. Adding this bit of information on top of that will just make Katsuki retreat into himself even more, might snap that tiny thread of trust he’s hanging on by.

If Eijirou woke up in a random stranger’s house with no recollection of the last decade or so of his life, only to be told he’s married to said stranger and must kiss him to break the curse set on him, he’d probably burn the house down and run like hell and his temper is nothing compared to Katsuki’s.

So, another lie is added to the pile.

“I’m sorry, Bakugou. I wish we could break it just as much as you do.”

“No,” Katsuki hisses, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t. You’ll never come fucking anywhere near how much I want it. You’ll never understand.” Pushing past Eijirou forcefully, Katsuki calls over his shoulder, “Let’s just go.” He sounds angry, his voice grating deep in his throat, but Eijirou knows Katsuki better than he knows even himself; he’s trying to hide how upset he is by putting on this mask, this façade, of anger.

The pit just keeps growing.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

When they arrive back home, Katsuki whisks off to the kitchen to prepare them dinner without a word, toting the bags full of ingredients in his arms. Eijirou takes the rest of their bags, filled with things like extra blankets, rope, and first aid supplies to their bedroom to store until their departure. He packs their supplies in their backpacks, worn after years of use, then tucks them away in the closet to wait until they’re needed. 

They’ll likely need to make another trip or two to collect the final items to polish off Eijirou’s list, as some of the merchants did not have the things they need in stock, but Eijirou certainly can’t complain about Katsuki’s trip back to his kingdom being delayed by a few days.

Maybe it’s the gods blessing him, giving him more time to woo Katsuki.

Smiling slightly at that thought, Eijirou turns his attention to fetching Katsuki’s map to show him and gain his approval before packing it away as well. From the small chest of treasures they’ve collected over their lives that lives underneath their bed, Eijirou pulls out it carefully. Lightly thumbing over the rolled paper, Eijirou smiles as he thinks about how proud Katsuki had been when they’d finally finished it. His eyes lit up like they do after every win in battle, shining bright and fierce and happy . He’d cried out into the cold, dark night that he and Eijirou were the greatest heroes to ever walk the earth, that there’s nothing that they can’t overcome, then pulled Eijirou into a hard kiss so full of love, of passion, of joy that Eijirou can still almost feel the tingling of his lips he’d felt that night just thinking about it.

“Shitty Hair,” Katsuki pulls him from the memory as he knocks on the open door with a single knuckle. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Thanks, I’ll be out in a minute,” he says, flashing a smile.

Katsuki grunts and leaves Eijirou to clean up the small mess he made in his search. All around him sit the items that make up their collection of sentimental items that Katsuki never fails to tease Eijirou about, calling it his ‘shitty dragon’s hoard.’ 

A fuyuka petal he’d pressed between one of the many books they’d picked up over the years. A thin crown of teardrop shaped jewels from the fire festival where’d they’d shared their first kiss. A gifted dagger and a leatherbound journal from what feels like an eternity ago to Eijirou, but is hardly a distant memory to Katsuki. A tiny fragment of a stone tablet that Katsuki insisted he keep to remind him to value what he has in front of him, that he was never alone.

He takes special care to place each object back in the chest in their rightful spots before closing the lid easily and clasping it shut, sliding it neatly into its previous place then letting the blanket fall to hide it from prying eyes once again.

After they finish eating their incredibly delicious dinner in awkward silence, the sound of utensils scraping noisily against porcelain the only sound in the room, they clear the table and carefully unroll the map, spreading it out across the table’s surface. Once the entirety of the map is revealed, Katsuki steps forward and lightly runs his fingertips over it, entranced, much like he was with Eijirou’s wings. He looks deep in thought, eyes distant under furrowed brows, and Eijirou can’t help but whisper, “Do you remember anything?”

Katsuki is quiet for a long time, still following the path of the pristine lines indicating travel routes with his fingers and tracing the names of villages that have been carefully inscribed on the parchment. “What do you think?”

“Right,” Eijirou exhales softly, “I’m sorry. I thought that maybe…” he lets himself trail off, glancing away from where Katsuki’s hand lingers over Aurelia printed in his own neat handwriting.

“Maybe seeing this shitty thing will jog my memory?” Katsuki questions accusingly, scowling. “Unfortunately for you, no. You’re stuck with me and it’ll be better for both of us if you just get the hell over it already.”

There’s no good response to that, Eijirou decides, so he stays silent, lets Katsuki inspect the map further to determine if it’s up to his standards to be used for their trip.

Finally, a faint hum of approval. “I suppose this will work.”

“Of course it’ll work, man. You’re the one who made it.” 

“No,” he says, an unreadable expression on his face. “I didn’t.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Your Katsuki isn’t coming back! You’re stuck with me and it’ll be better for both of us if you just get the hell over it already!

As their relentless arguments replay over and over in Eijirou’s mind the night before they’re set to leave on their trip, he finds himself unable to sleep, an overwhelming sense of dread filling him and settling like a vice around his throat. 

Mind wandering, he picks at a loose thread on the knitted blanket he bought at the market draped over their bodies, pulls at the small red string mindlessly as he desperately tries to think of anything he can do to stop Katsuki from leaving. 

Maybe I should just tell him how to break the curse , Eijirou muses as he listens to Katsuki snoring lightly beside him. He could tell Katsuki that True Love’s Kiss is the way to give him back his memories and hope for the miniscule possibility that Katsuki might be desperate enough to be willing to try kissing some strange man he’s known for all of two weeks if there was even a chance it’d work. 

Eijirou tries to reason with himself, going back and forth and weighing the options, as he yanks a bit harder at the thread in his frustration. The particularly harsh tug causes the blanket to begin to unravel, coming apart just like Eijirou’s argument and Eijirou himself.

No, he can’t tell Katsuki.

It wouldn’t help anything.

Maybe Katsuki’s right, maybe he should just accept that they’ll never break the curse. That day in Chika’s cottage, he’d said they were unbreakable. He supposes it’s fitting that they’re now burdened with an unbreakable curse. 

Chika is as cruel as she is wise, it seems.

With a tired sigh, he turns on his side to look at his husband, sleeping soundly. His hair is getting a bit long and could use a trim, glowing like a halo in the soft moonlight streaming in through the window near their bed. His face is relaxed, jaw unclenched and that little wrinkle between his eyebrows that Eijirou has a habit of kissing when he gets upset smoothed out. 

He may not remember Eijirou, may not remember the love they share or the lives they’ve led together, but this is still Katsuki . This is still the man that Eijirou fell in love with all those years ago. The man that he Swore himself to, promised to stand next to for the rest of their lives, come hell or high water.

Well, this is hell , Eijirou thinks.

And after everything they’ve been through over the course of their lives and over the course of this curse, after every harsh word thrown his way, every searing comment made at his expense, every argument and fight that ended with slammed doors and a cracked heart, Eijirou has never , not once, faltered in his love for this man.

He might have lost hope that Katsuki will ever fall in love with him again, but Eijirou is still hopelessly devoted to him, will do anything for him even if it means breaking his own heart to do it. If going back to his kingdom is what it takes to make Katsuki happy, then Eijirou has to do whatever he can to make sure that happens, even if it’s at the expense of his own happiness.

Eijirou loves him—so much so that it hurts sometimes—but he’s run out of time and there’s no other option, no other last-ditch plan he can try to win Katsuki’s love again, so there’s only one thing left to do.

It’s time to let Katsuki go.

With one last glance at his sleeping husband, Eijirou closes his eyes, a lone tear racing down his face, and whispers, “Goodbye, Katsuki.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Finally, after so many tough, heart-wrenching days, the time finally comes for Eijirou and Katsuki to leave their shared house together for the last time. The two set out at dawn, the distant mountains they’re heading towards dark giants against the rosy skies that stretch far above their heads. Soft golden light yawns out across the path in front of them, illuminating the mounds of snow that have yet to fully melt in the rays of the rising sun. It’s picturesque, reminiscent of countless adventures that the two have gone on together, and Eijirou wishes he could enjoy it, but all it does is remind him of the past and what he’s lost.

Katsuki is right next to him, but he won’t be for long. This is the last adventure they’ll ever go on together. Their final days together. A relationship that has spanned years upon years, been through hell and back, only to come to an end this way. It makes Eijirou’s blood boil and freeze simultaneously. The sadness that has consumed him over the course of this whole ordeal threatens to overcome him completely, but is only held at bay by the unadulterated anger he feels and the fierce determination to treasure these last few days with his husband and help Katsuki find this last bit of happiness before he’s out of his life forever.

They walk so closely that their shoulders brush lightly every few minutes, sending Eijirou’s heart thundering in his chest. He wants to lean into the touch, to bask in it while he still can, but he knows that would only serve to make Katsuki uncomfortable, so he puts a bit of distance between them and ignores the questioning look shot his way.

There’s a peacefulness of this time of day, the sunrise making everything, including Katsuki, soft and hazy. He seems quieter today, more reserved and lost in his thoughts as they make their way towards the marker on the map indicating the optimal place for Eijirou to shift and start flying. Eijirou doesn’t want to disturb the serenity of the moment, the calm that’s settled over Katsuki, but he’s so used to chattering when they’re hiking like this that he slips into old patterns without a second thought.

Instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust as he was wont to do lately, Katsuki simply listens, face blank but attentive. He nods every so often, hums lightly if it’s warranted. Sometimes, Eijirou even catches his lips curling up in a small smile.

Eijirou can’t deny that it feels surreal and oh so familiar and despite everything, it breathes life into that snuffed-out ember of hope that Eijirou had all but abandoned.

When they finally arrive at the small clearing, they’re met with a field of snowdrops and Eijirou recalls a conversation he’d had with Katsuki many years ago as he shifts to tower over Katsuki in his full dragon form.

“ Hope, ” he whispers in Katsuki’s mind, letting out a huff of amusement when he sees Katsuki’s eyes widen comically upon hearing words that hadn’t been spoken aloud. It was a skill they’d gained a number of years ago, a telepathic bond that was forged when Katsuki decided to Swear himself to Eijirou in return that allows them to communicate while Eijirou is in his dragon form. 

A link that Eijirou likes to use for quiet moments like this.

“Huh?”

Smiling, he gazes down affectionately and nudges at the beautiful flowers surrounding them with his snout. “ They symbolize hope .”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

It’s a few days later, when they’re about halfway to their destination, that Eijirou smells a storm on the horizon, a savage blizzard building as it approaches from the south and threatens the peace that’s settled between the pair. He knows that Katsuki is nothing if not stubborn as all hell, willing to fight even Mother Nature if she stands in the way of what he wants, but he also knows they can’t keep going in these conditions, no matter what Katsuki insists. “We need to stop here for the night, Bakugou, there’s a storm coming and we don’t want to be caught in it.”

“Whatever, you overgrown lizard, we’ll be fine. It’s just some shitty snow. I’m not stopping and neither are you.” Katsuki casts a fierce glare over his shoulder, then buries his nose back in his map in an effort to figure out how far they are from the determined campsite for the night. “The faster we get to my kingdom, the faster I get out of your shitty hair. Isn’t that what you want?” he sneers, but there’s something akin to hurt in his bite.

“What?” Eijirou stops in his tracks, forgetting all about the argument about braving the elements, and shakes his head incredulously. “Why would you think that?”

Katsuki’s defenses rise, his walls that Eijirou’s tried his best to chip through these past few weeks going up more solid than ever before. “What do you mean ‘ why would you think that ’? The second I said I wanted to go home, you were practically shoving me out the door!”

“What are you talking about?” Eijirou practically screams, frustrated beyond compare, “You really think I don’t want you here with me? I’m only helping you get back to your castle because it’s what you want!”

“Why?” Katsuki shouts back, voice echoing through the bare trees with branches slowly being weighed down by the pristine snow that’s begun to fall. “Why the fuck do you care what I want?”

“Because I lo—because you’re my best friend and I care about you, you asshole! And I’m trying to respect your wishes because I want you to be happy! Is that so fucking ridiculous?” Eijirou pulls at his slightly damp hair with a low growl and shoulder-checks his mildly stunned husband as he makes his way further down the path.

The bump seems to snap Katsuki out of his daze, making him spin on his heel with a frosty huff. Snarling lowly, he stalks up behind Eijirou, the snow that’s started to rapidly accumulate and pack on the trail beneath his feet whining under his boots, and lays a warm hand on his shoulder to turn Eijirou around. “Oi! We’re not done here!”

“Yes,” Eijirou sneers, baring his sharp teeth and tugging Katsuki’s hand off of him, “we are. I’m done explaining myself to you and I’m done having this conversation. If you’re expecting an apology, you can fucking forget it.” Shaking his head and letting out a string of curses under his breath, Eijirou turns back around and starts walking away as quickly as his feet can carry him.

“Y-you b-bastard! It’s n-not over until I s-say it is!” Even with the distance between them, Eijirou can hear the chattering of Katsuki’s teeth, clacking together noisily. The wind has picked up and the sky has unleashed an intense flurry upon them, the temperature steadily dropping to dangerous levels. Already fired up from their fight, in addition to the dragon’s blood thrumming through his veins, Eijirou hardly feels the chill in the air, but his husband isn’t as lucky.

“Fuck,” Eijirou curses eloquently under his breath and groans, dragging a hand down his face before turning around to face Katsuki.

With quick, sure steps, he closes the space between himself and Katsuki and pulls his coat off as he lets his wings unfurl behind him. “Here,” he mutters, draping his wing over Katsuki’s head to create a canopy to catch the falling snow. When he lays his coat over Katsuki’s shoulders, he feels them slump in defeat, the fight seeming to melt out of him with the added warmth. 

He might even hear Katsuki mutter a soft and reluctant “thanks”, but it’s probably just the wind.

As they walk, Eijirou can’t help but reminisce about the last time he did this for Katsuki, before they’d even become a couple. Katsuki had been hesitant to accept help then, worried that Eijirou would get cold—though he’d never admit it—and Eijirou had felt his heart swell at the thought of Katsuki worrying over him. The memory still brings a light blush to his cheeks, one he could easily blame on the biting winds swirling around them, but it’s bittersweet and it makes Eijirou’s heart squeeze painfully as the snow piles on his wing and uncomfortable silence settles between them.

It makes him miss Katsuki more.

They walk for as long as they can, until Katsuki’s entire body is shaking so hard that Eijirou is worried he’ll get hypothermia or frostbite. If it was up to Katsuki, he knows they’d keep going, but Eijirou makes the executive decision to stop and find some shelter. “We’re making camp here, we can’t travel any further.” Katsuki opens his mouth, face contorted in a way that says he vehemently disagrees, but Eijirou stops him before he can get a word out. “I’m not letting you die out here and I’m not gonna argue with you. We’re stopping for the night.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but doesn’t say anything in rebuttal, so Eijirou ushers him towards a small grove of trees a few meters off the path. They have no other options and he hopes that the trees will protect them from the wind and snow, even if just a little. 

They carefully unpack their things, set up camp between two trunks using Katsuki’s thick cape as a canopy over their heads and their blankets to create a makeshift bed. Up until this point, they haven’t encountered weather that necessitates sharing warmth, but tonight, with this monster blizzard raging with no signs of stopping and no way for them to start a usable fire, Eijirou knows they need to. It will likely make Katsuki uncomfortable, but Eijirou would rather Katsuki be uncomfortable than frostbitten and dead when he wakes.

“Uh, Bakugou?” He clears his throat roughly, drawing the blond’s eyes to him. “I think I should cocoon you in my wings while we sleep.” Katsuki’s face draws into a disgusted look and Eijirou feels his neck heat up. Shit, this is so awkward. “I know it sounds weird, man, but I run warm and my wings can shield you from the wind. You can’t make it home to your family if you freeze to death.”

Katsuki’s face doesn’t move from disgust, but it does twist the slightest bit in a way that Eijirou, after years of versing himself in Katsuki’s expressions, knows means he’s considering it despite the hesitance. “Fine, Shitty Hair, I guess that’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had, but if you trying to fucking spoon me or some weird shit, I won’t hesitate to blast your lizard ass.”

“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m even less thrilled about this than you are.” The words probably sound venomous, hate-laced to Katsuki, but it’s the opposite. Even the idea of having Katsuki so close in such an intimate way makes Eijirou ache in ways he didn’t know possible. It’s like having my heart broken all over again , he thinks, as they settle in and he easily wraps his wings around his husband. The familiarity of the weight on his chest makes it feel as if it’s caving in on itself, collapsing under his grief.

For several quiet, agonizing minutes, Katsuki lays on Eijirou’s chest with Eijirou’s wings tucked around him, and eventually, he’s being lulled to sleep by Eijirou’s deep breathing and by the warmth emanating from him. Right before he dozes off completely, though, Eijirou only barely hears Katsuki murmur, “Why are you doing all this shit for me?” Moments later, he’s sound asleep, soft snores filling the space between them.

After that, Eijirou lies awake for hours, trying—and failing—not to spiral into painful thoughts. Katsuki is so close ; Eijirou can feel every soft puff of breath against his neck, feel his heart beating slow and steady alongside his own. It fucking hurts because Katsuki is so close, and yet, he couldn’t be any further away. They’ll reach the castle in just a few days and Eijirou’s time with him is quickly running out. He hopes that Katsuki doesn’t wake from the shuddering sobs that escape against his will. 

“Because I love you,” he whispers to a man who will never return the sentiment.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Several, long days of travel later, when they’re running low on supplies and on morale, beaten down by the cold, unforgiving being that is Mother Nature, they’re but a kilometer away from the Bakugou castle. In what Katsuki suspects is a purely selfish move, Kirishima suggests that they make camp for the night— So you can reunite with your family in the daylight, bro! It only makes sense! —and he, despite himself, finds himself agreeing. He feels Kirishima's eyes on him as he builds a small fire to fight off the cold of the dark night and wonders if the dragon can see the hesitance in his form, in the way he hunches his shoulders when he lets off a few sparks from his palms to light the kindling.

‘Because I love you ,’ he hears Kirishima’s shattered whisper replay in his mind just as clearly as it did that night, over and over, each time more broken than the last. It’s all he can think about now. ‘ Because I love you ’, like that explains anything. ‘ Because I love you ’, like that matters. ‘ Because I love you ’, like that will change anything.

‘ Because I love you ’, like that maybe already has.

Katsuki huffs quietly, finds a small log to roll close to their fire for a seat. Kirishima watches every movement, but his eyes are distant, like he’s not really seeing Katsuki himself, but the Katsuki from before. The Katsuki that he isn’t , the Katsuki that’s not coming back, the Katsuki that Katsuki can’t be no matter how much the idiot fucking ‘loves’ him. “Stop fucking staring and sit down,” he gripes, not bothering to catch Kirishima’s eyes as he takes his own seat.

“Sorry,” he murmurs and sits on the very edge of the log, as far away from Katsuki as he can manage. Those vacant eyes fall on the crackling fire now, the flames reflecting the inferno that once burned bright there, but has been all but snuffed out. He’s radiant in the light of the blaze, skin glowing like the sun is trapped beneath it, freckles illuminated like tiny constellations burning in the night sky, red hair alight like the corona of an eclipse.

He’s ethereal.

And he’s…

Crying ?

Lips trembling with the effort of holding back devastating sobs, tears leaking out of those fiery eyes and slipping down those constellation smattered cheeks, Kirishima is crying and Katsuki is at a complete loss.

“What the fuck?” he hisses, scooting towards the man, brows furrowed and eyes searching his face. “What’s wrong?”

It’s like hearing those two words breaks something inside Kirishima. Suddenly, those sobs that he was working so hard to keep at bay are bursting to the surface, racking his chest violently and causing him to curl in on himself. He wipes ineffectually at the raging torrent and gasps harshly, sounding as if his lungs have been robbed of all oxygen. 

The sight claws at Katsuki’s chest, digging into his heart in a way that he can’t even describe. Excruciating pain lances through his chest upon seeing Kirishima so distraught, this breakdown coming seemingly out of nowhere with the cause unknown to Katsuki, and it leaves him feeling helpless. 

He fucking hates feeling helpless. 

And goddammit , that late-night confession uttered under the stars into the freezing night has fucked everything up. Up until that night, Katsuki was fine with leaving. Maybe he’d grown to not completely hate Kirishima’s presence, not that he’d ever admit that, but he had a kingdom to get back to—he couldn’t let himself get attached. But now, now , thanks to those four little fucking words, Katsuki’s emotions are going haywire.

Suddenly, he can’t stop thinking about how familiar Kirishima feels, even when Katsuki barely knows him. How Kirishima never fails to call him on his shit, even when he’s become more resigned and retreated into himself over the past few days. How Kirishima feels closer to home than his kingdom ever has and that makes Katsuki feel vulnerable and scares him more than anything. How Kirishima continuously tears out his own heart just to make Katsuki happy. 

How Kirishima cares about him, unconditionally, even after the hell Katsuki’s put him through. 

And fuck , Katsuki thinks he might actually care about this idiot, too.

Upon his revelation, Katsuki feels a tug at his ring finger, pulling him towards the redhead and closing the little distance left between them. Katsuki knows that Kirishima is a touchy person—learned that early on when he’d catch Kirishima reaching out to settle his arm around Katsuki or brush their shoulders together only to pull back at the last second with a grimace—so he tries to comfort the dragon the best he can by rubbing a calloused hand in soothing circles on his back. The moment his palm touches the spot between Kirishima’s shoulder blades, the spot where his wings would usually protrude, Kirishima visibly deflates and lightly presses into the touch with a hitch of his breath. 

After a few moments of silence under Katsuki’s steady ministrations, Kirishima finally calms down enough to speak without violently shuddering, taking Katsuki’s hand in his and squeezing it lightly as he tells him, "I'm just really going to miss you, Katsuki." His eyes widen, causing more fat tears to slide down his face. "S-sorry, I meant Bakugou. I’m really going to miss you," he pauses, looking completely and totally destroyed, then whispers, “ Bakugou .”

"What's gotten into you, Kirishima?" Katsuki’s voice drops to a whisper as well as he finds himself searching Kirishima’s eyes, squeezing his hand in return in a desperate plea for an explanation, for an elaboration. 

When Kirishima won’t provide that—won’t tell Katsuki why he’s so terribly upset about them parting ways, won’t tell him because I love you —and just gives Katsuki a smile, soft and sweet and achingly sad, Katsuki surges forward, closing the distance between them until their lips are pressed together before he can even register what he’s doing.

Kirishima positively melts against Katsuki, his returning tears wetting both of their faces but doing nothing to extinguish the inferno that Katsuki feels engulfing him. Flames lick their way up his face where Kirishima has come up to cradle his cheek, skin sizzling under his scorching palm. With an intensity that could only rival a wildfire, Kirishima grabs a fistful of Katsuki’s cape and pulls him forward until there isn’t an inch of them that isn’t touching, isn’t burning . Katsuki finds himself clutching at the forearm attached to the hand still tangled in the wool, fingertips pressing into the bracer Kirishima wears there and setting off tiny sparks against the steel of their own accord.

Eventually, after a handful of heart-stopping, all-consuming moments, Kirishima is gasping against his lips, struggling against wave after wave of fresh tears and the two must part, though they stay in close orbit. It’s sooner than Katsuki would’ve liked; if it’d been up to him, he would have happily stayed inside raging blaze for the rest of his life, content to burn to ashes by Kirishima’s hands, but the moment they do separate, Katsuki feels as if he’s been struck by Kaminari’s lightning magic. Shockwave after shockwave, memory after memory, shoot through his body, making his skin tingle from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head.

"Eijirou," he breathes as he reaches up to brush a thumb over his husband’s lip, voice punched out of him by the onslaught of his memories.

Years come flooding back in seconds. Their first meeting that day in the forest, a scared little dragon stuck in a trap and freezing to death in the harsh, unforgiving cold. That fateful birthday that brought them together again after so many years. The sunrises, the sunsets, the mountains they've climbed. The villages they've stayed in, the villages they've been chased from. The fire by which they had their first kiss—the memory that no doubt spurred Eijirou’s breakdown. 

Words laced with love and words spit like venom. The time apart, splitting off only to find their way back together again as equals, over and over again. The many times throughout their relationship when they kneeled before each other. In a sign of loyalty, in a sign of apology, in a sign of devotion. The flowers under which feelings blossomed and love was sworn from now until the end of time. Countless winters spent together and a love, a life , that bloomed from the cold earth and out from under the blanket of snow, as stubborn and unyielding as the couple themselves. 

It’s overwhelming and staggering and Katsuki hardly knows how to react outside of trying to ground himself by gripping Eijirou’s forearm even tighter than he already was. Using the hand settled on Eijirou’s face, he brushes away the stray falling tears, then surges forward to squeeze the life out of Eijirou—his husband, the love of his life, his soulmate —and apologizes a thousand times into the warm skin of his neck as he lets his own tears fall free. 

“Hey,” Katsuki hears a sniffle as a pair of lips press against the crown of his head, then are replaced by a hand soothingly carding through golden strands, “it’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for. All I care about is you coming back to me, everything else doesn’t matter. I’m just happy you’re home.” Eijirou squeezes him just a little tighter and Katsuki feels his pulse pick up just the tiniest bit as he whispers, “I missed you, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s throat constricts, the words needed to express what Eijirou means to him and how much he’s missed him too escaping him, so he leans back just enough to pull Eijirou in to kiss him again and again and again in hopes that he’s able to convey all of that through the connection of their lips; the way that Eijirou sighs and affectionately strokes his quickly warming cheeks tells him that it’s enough. 

Both full to bursting with a thousand different emotions, they exchange kisses and tender touches until the fire beside them is merely a pile of smoldering ashes, until all that’s left is the sizzling of coals as background noise to hushed promises of devotion. Given the option, Katsuki would say fuck the fire and continue kissing the life out of his husband to make up for lost time, but Eijirou insists that they revive it, determined to go collect more firewood to keep Katsuki warm throughout the night.

After a quick succession of pecks to Katsuki’s cheeks and forehead, Eijirou kneels before Katsuki and takes his hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back. “I’ll be back soon, my king ,” he all but purrs, prompting an amused eye roll from Katsuki.

“You’re such a fucking sap,” Katsuki scoffs, but can’t deny the heat that slowly rises to his face as Eijirou stands. Snow crunches under his boots until he’s out of earshot, disappearing into the small grove of trees behind them. 

When he returns with an armful of sticks and twigs, he flashes a fond smile at Katsuki, then piles the sticks on top of the dying fire and uses his wings to stoke it back to life. “Hey, Katsuki?” Eijirou’s eyes never leave the fire, slowly resuscitating as it eats away at the kindling it was provided.

“Yeah, Eijirou?” He’s missed his husband’s name in his mouth, savors the feeling of the syllables rolling off his tongue.

“Do you still want to go see your family? It’s been a long time.”

Katsuki waves a hand dismissively, but the look in his eyes is hardened. “And it can be even longer, I don't care. We’re leaving first thing in the morning to go destroy that hag of a witch. We didn’t go through all this shit for nothing.”

Smiling softly, Eijirou nods. “Okay, we should probably get to sleep then. We have a long trip ahead of us.”

Once Katsuki clears the snow away from a small patch of grass near the fire and creates a comfortable nest resembling a bed, he lays down and props his head up in his hand to watch Eijirou. He’s bathed in firelight again, looking as otherworldly as he did before, except the simmering embers of a budding affection are now the roaring fire of a once-in-a-lifetime, all-encompassing love. 

Crouched down, he pokes at the fire one last time, then huffs out a small sigh of satisfaction, warm breath visible in the cold. “Stop fucking staring,” Eijirou’s voice takes on a gravelly timbre to imitate Katsuki, cutting his eyes over to his best friend with a smirk as he stands and makes his way over to their makeshift bed. As he settles in behind Katsuki, Eijirou pulls him close, back to chest, and presses his cold nose to the nape of Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki relishes in the closeness, in the much-missed intimacy, and in the familiarity. “I love you, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, idiot.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

The journey to Chika’s cottage is much more pleasant than the journey they’d just been on together, the weather clear enough for Eijirou to fly the entire way. In Eijirou’s eyes, there are few things better than hearing Katsuki’s woops and cheers from atop his neck, hands clasped around thick horns and wide grin plastered on his face as they soar through the air. Just hearing it makes Eijirou’s heart stutter in its cage, knowing that Katsuki is back, his Katsuki is back.

Usually, flying such a long distance would warrant several breaks for Eijirou to rest and recharge, but for this trip, he’s fueled by that beautiful sound and also by the simmering rage bubbling just beneath his skin. For most of the past two weeks, that anger has been overpowered by the sheer devastation that came with losing his husband, pushed to the wayside by his heartbreak. Now that Katsuki has recovered, though, all that's left is a wrath burning in Eijirou's chest, one he knows that burns just as bright within Katsuki. 

It's time for retribution.

With a powerful gust from his expansive wings, Eijirou drops from the air and crashes through the ice in the center of Lovers’ Lake as Katsuki cries out the witch’s name three times, bloodlust lacing his tone. As they hit the water, Eijirou shifts and in a beat, they’re standing in front of a thoroughly surprised Chika.

“I cannot say I expected to see you two again,” she states, looking something akin to impressed. “I have never seen the same face twice in all my years.”

That gives them both pause in their righteous fury, Eijirou and Katsuki exchanging a confused glance before Katsuki hisses out, “What the fuck ? No one has ever completed your shitty trials before?”

“No,” Chika looks pensive as she sweeps a hand in front of her, drying Katsuki and Eijirou instantly with her magic. “My tasks are not impossible, though they seem like they are to most. Some outright fail, most give up. Only the strong emerge victorious.”

A wide, cocky grin spreads across Katsuki’s face upon hearing her explanation. “I fucking told you we were better and more worthy than any of those other fuckers!”

“That you did. You also called him ,” she cuts her piercing blue eyes over to Eijirou, “your soulmate when you stood before my fuyuka tree and offered yourselves to me for assistance.”

The grin melting off his face at the accusing tone she’s taken, anger flaring back up in a second’s notice, Katsuki raises his chin, glare intense and unfaltering. “Yeah, I did, because it’s fucking true.” 

“My final trials are designed specifically for every individual who seeks me out. I look into their souls to find the ultimate test for that person and if they’re able to complete that task, achieve that goal, break that curse, then I deem them worthy of my magic and only then do I grant what they seek. Soulmates are not something to be taken lightly, especially when dealing with magic, so upon hearing this, I doubted your love—and thus, your motivations for extended life—so I created a curse that only soulmates could break. By breaking my curse, you proved to me that you two are destined to find each other in this lifetime and every one that comes before and after, over and over, until the world ceases spinning.” She pauses. “I doubted you, but you proved me wrong.”

“Guess that means you’re not all-knowing then, huh?” Katsuki sneers and makes to move forward, palms popping, but Eijirou simply lays a hand over his heart in warning and he stills with a disgruntled huff. “Eijirou has sworn himself to me and I’ve sworn myself to him. We’re soulmates whether you want to fucking believe it or not. How fucking dare you question my loyalty—”

“Katsuki, I’m angry too, but you’ve gotta calm down,” Eijirou warns, pressing his palm a bit more firmly into his husband’s chest. 

“No, Eijirou! She stole my life from me, she put you through absolute hell, she took everything from us! We did everything she fucking asked, paid our goddamn dues, so it’s time for us to get what we’re owed! If she was eavesdropping on us that day, then she knows I’m not above blasting her ass to kingdom come!” 

“Katsuki—!”

“No, he is right, Halfling.” Chika’s resigned voice sends a shiver down Eijirou’s back as he turns his attention away from Katsuki. “Many have sought me out, claiming that they are worthy of extra time, worthy of bending nature to their will, but you two are the only ones who have ever proven that you actually are . You passed all of my trials, so it is only right that I give you what you came for.” On unsteady feet, she takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between herself and the couple. “Your vows to each other are powerful, they are an old world magic like mine and hold a great significance, but this binding shall unite your hearts in a way that Swearing cannot. Do not be fooled by fallacious rumours—it is not immortality, nor is it invincibility; only gods can grant that and I am no god, I’m afraid. However, this spell will link your souls in every possible way. Should you choose to go through with this, the moment that one of you dies, the other shall too. You will be linked in life and, therefore, linked in death. You shall never live one moment without the other. If that will suffice, then place your left hands in mine and close your eyes.”

They both reach their hands out to place them in the upturned palms of the witch. As she starts speaking in an ancient tongue he’s unfamiliar with, Eijirou feels his entire hand start to burn, white-hot and searing, and hisses lowly. He can’t resist the urge to peak out from under his thick lashes and the vision he’s met with forces a soft gasp from his lungs.

The Red String of Fate he knew he and Katsuki shared, the one he’d felt the pull of right before their first kiss, is faintly glowing between them, hanging from where it’s looped around each of their ring fingers and kissing the floor. He watches, mesmerized, as it coils and uncoils, dancing in the air between them and moving in a way independent of logic until Chika stops her chant and gently lays their hands over each other.

“It is done,” she says simply, casting a glance between the two of them. “Don’t waste this gift.”

“We won’t,” Eijirou promises. “Thank you.” 

She gives them a nod and Eijirou lines his palm up with Katsuki’s, their red rings aligning as he weaves their fingers together. Using his other hand, he pulls Katsuki forward to kiss him sweetly, putting all of his love and relief into it.

“Let’s go home,” he whispers against his husband’s lips.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Once they arrive back at their house, the sun peaking over the horizon and bathing the world in soft, honeyed light, Eijirou breaks the companionable silence that had settled between them. “Katsuki?”

Lacing their fingers together, Katsuki hums to indicate he’s listening.

“I’m—I can’t stay here anymore. I know we only settled here to get a break after we got married, that this place was always only temporary, but this was still our home , Katsuki, and it’s like, ugh ,” Eijirou exhales harshly and juts his lip out in a pout as he frustratedly runs a hand through his hair, “it’s tainted or something now. No matter what I do, I know I’m just going to be haunted by all of this horrible stuff we just went through if we stay here any longer. I think it’s time for us to move on, go back to traveling again. I think our little honeymoon is over.”

Katsuki brings their joined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Eijirou’s hand. “This shit is all my fault. First time we’ve gotten to actually rest in years and I fucked it all up. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he sighs, eyebrows knitting together in worry, “no. I don’t blame you for this and you shouldn’t either. We came out on top. We proved that we’re unshakeable, even when faced with something as awful as this. We’re still together. That’s all that matters.” Squeezing the calloused hand in his, Eijirou smiles softly. “It was time, anyway. There’s a lot left for us to see, y’know? So let’s just get back to doing what we do best.”

“Is that what you really want?”

Another squeeze. “Yeah, it is. We’ve been given this amazing gift of time and we have our entire lives ahead of us, it’s not time for us to settle down quite yet. One day, but not now."

“Alright, then. We’ll leave as soon as we get our shit in order.” Katsuki pauses, watching the sunrise on the horizon, as if looking towards their future, their new beginning. “But whenever you’re ready, just say the word and we're done. We can settle down in some shitty little town near our band of idiots, if that’s what you want. Could even live next door to stupid fucking Deku, for all I care. You’re my home so anywhere you go, I go. That’s what you told that witch hag, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs fondly, frustration and tension melting from his frame upon hearing Katsuki’s sentimental words. After a moment, he snorts and dives in to peck his husband on the cheek before knocking their heads together lightly in a show of affection. “But c’mon, there’s no way you’d actually live next to Midoriya, even if I wanted to.”

“As long as you’re there, I don’t give a fuck where we are.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I love you,” he whispers to a man who will always be by his side.