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The bell chimed above the rickety, old door. Katsuki raised a brow and craned his head over to the noise, allowing his glasses to inquisitively fall to the bridge of his large nose. He heard the door shut, but still no sign of the occupant. The tall, leaning piles of empty boxes and books as old as time did wonders to insulate the space, and Katsuki was not in the mood for guessing games. Especially not this late at night. He ran his own shop with his partner and in a deceitful ploy made by them in the morning, Katsuki was on the night shift: a job that especially included locking up and leaving for the pub.
“Hey,” Katsuki hummed, unamused. “You looking or what?”
He heard a cough, and then a small clamor, followed by a shush. Katsuki groaned and tipped himself over the banker’s shelf to peer down a tight row of knickknacks, spotting pattering feet. He sighed and looked at his wrist watch, definitely too early to close but too late for him to want any customers right now. He rolled over the barrier and landed loudly, earning two yelps from the back bookcase.
“Ah, two of you,” Katsuki grumbled. “Aight, what do you want?”
The only response he got was the same pattering of feet, shuffling around and into things. He heard items being snatched and others dropped, thankfully no shattering. Yet. Katsuki stomped towards them and around a delicately large column of items still in need of a sales sticker, and that’s when he found them: two boys, young and nervous.
Katsuki sighed and with crossed arms, asked, “You two starting school soon, I reckon?”
The boys jumped at the voice, at being caught, and with eyes at each other, the smallest one with green hair stepped to speak, “Y-Yes sir, we are.”
“Ain’t it a little late for all that?” Katsuki mused, stepping out of the labyrinth and into the main hall of his business.
“Nuh-uh,” the larger, redheaded one spoke, “your sign says ten!”
Katsuki glanced back at his watch, which read twenty minutes until ten. He grunted. “So it may seem.”
“So we can keep looking? We promise to buy things—” the green boy spoke.
“—if you have what we need, of course,” the redhead finished.
Katsuki smiled at their enthusiasm, and bowed with a wave at his collection. The boys then continued scurrying around, chatting to each other through whispers across the store. Katsuki stepped to the front door and turned the open sign around to close. These two kids seemed like they were going to take the rest of the night, Katsuki was certain. He’d run this shop for almost two decades, expanding bigger and bigger until it became quite a popular stop for young witches and wizards looking to grab their supplies for their next year of school. The summer and winter months were always the busiest, and would require both Katsuki and his partner to keep the place from being ransacked.
But with summer wrapping up, and the final trains out of the district towards school were departing this evening, Katsuki was deemed capable to run the store himself. It’d been slow, almost dead, save for a few birds wanting a discount on unsold items, but dead enough all the rest of the day. Until these two twerps came in, looking panicked and out of breath. Katsuki bent his hip on the counter and watched them struggle to grab what appeared to be everything on their school list. Books on top of books, packets of loose leaf paper, quills and ink. Katsuki rolled his eyes, such archaic barbarism in such a civilized age. He’d have to show these youngsters a thing or two.
His thoughts were cancelled when the boys slammed their to-be purchased items on the counter top. Katsuki inspected them with a curious survey, darting his eyes two the pile, and then to the boys, who looked nervously up at the man. Katsuki pushed his glasses up and began to turn the piles around to read the spines.
“You two preparing for something?” Katsuki asked.
“What do you mean?” the redhead asked.
“This is enough school shopping for an entire three years of class, and you’re doing it now,” Katsuki tossed a frown to the boys, “mere hours before you have to board a train and go?”
“We didn’t have time, okay?” the redhead moaned.
“And enough money…” the green one now spoke, drawing a look from Katsuki, who saw the smaller boy look even smaller, bashful and embarrassed.
“Or… money…” the redhead repeated.
“How much do you have?” Katsuki asked, watching the two boys reach into their pockets to rummage out all the paper and coin. With a quick glance, even Katsuki knew it wasn’t going to be enough to supply everything they wanted on the counter.
“What’re your names?” Katsuki began to count. “And what year are you going to be?”
“I’m Eijirou,” the redhead bellowed with pride. “Second year!”
Katsuki nodded and turned to the shorter boy, a shade of feverish red across his face.
“And you—”
“Izuku,” the green haired boy stuttered out. “Izuku Midoriya, second year as well…”
Katsuki grinned at the two opposite personalities, reminding him of his youth, scared at the prospect of a new school, and the chore of having to buy everything beforehand. He finished counting the cash, which as he predicted, wasn’t enough.
“You don’t have enough here guys,” Katsuki frowned, “not for all of this.”
“Please, sir, we can’t go back with nothing!” Eijirou barked.
Katsuki waved his hands up and glared harmfully. “We need to start trimming if you want even some of these.”
“You can’t be a good samaritan and just cover the rest we owe? C’mon, man,” Eijirou blurted.
“Hey, I own this business, which typically involves me earning money, not giving it away to some poorly managed brats—”
“It’s fine, Ei… we can go,” Izuku whispered and grabbed Eijirou’s wrist hem. Eijirou looked down at Izuku, then back to Katsuki with an open palmed hand, silently demanding his money back. Katsuki looked at the smaller boy’s eyes, dark and sad, defeated knowing he wasn’t going to make it to the train for school. It again reminded him of himself, his parents too poor to send their whole family to as prestigious a school that everyone else was going, but Katsuki was gifted. They scrimped and saved enough to send him and only him away to receive a better education than his siblings. It worked, but now here he was, watching two boys quit because of a money issue like his parents could have just so easily done.
“Where’re your parents?” Katsuki asked as softly as he could, knowing he was forcing out a secret.
“We, uh…” Eijirou started, before squeezing Izuku’s hand. “We’re orphans.”
“Shit,” Katsuki instantly blurted out, raising the money to his cheek. “And this is all you could get for school?”
“Yes sir,” little Izuku spoke, stepping forward. “We were hoping to get enough stuff now to last a few school years, so that maybe get back on our feet, we’d be a few years older.”
Katsuki sighed heavily, ending with a groan and finally a frown. He pushed his frames up and tossed the money onto the counter. “This isn’t going to buy you a lot, but if you allow me, I’ll pick out the things you will need for just this school year. Once school’s out, come by my shop and I’ll put you to work over the winter and summer.”
Katsuki paused and watched Eijirou and Izuku’s eyes go wide, brains thinking over the offer. Katsuki shot out a hand. “We have a deal?
“Yeah!” both boys said at once. “That’s fine!”
“Great, now where to start,” Katsuki grinned small and started pulling books from the teetering pile on the counter top. “You both said you were second years, correct? Then you won’t be needing any of these.”
Katsuki grunted as he pulled the centuries old texts out from the pile with care, only to dispose of them onto the dusty floor uncarefully. Dust kicked up at his feet, a reminder to have his partner sweep and clean during his next day off. “Those books are for the next few years, so don’t worry about getting them now, especially since you’ll be making enough money this winter and summer to just buy the next editions that’ll be out.”
The two boys were quiet, just nodding away, listening to Katsuki’s penny-pinching vibrato spell out what they needed to have, what they didn’t need at all, and things that, if there were funds left over, could have. The pile dwindled away until they were down to just three books a piece, easily within budget.
“Alright next, wands,” Katsuki grabbed a box and opened it, watching Eijirou stammer forward, signifying this was his choice. Katsuki flipped it around his fingers and offered to Eijirou, who gripped it strongly, confidently. It surely was a good fit, almost impeccable how much of his personality was already imbued in the length of oak. Katsuki grinned and nodded, moving over to the second box.
He opened it as Izuku stepped forward, holding out his tiny, trembling hands for the magical weapon. Katsuki raised an eyebrow and swirled it around his fingers, before lowering it into Izuku’s touch. He held it correctly for sure, but there was something off. Katsuki felt no connection, no spark. None the way Eijirou and his wand showed him. “You don’t feel anything, do you?”
“Uh…” Izuku balked, still waving the stick. “Am I supposed to?”
“Yeah,” Eijirou blurted out, earning a snap from Katsuki.
“I can’t tell you how to feel it, but you’ll know when you feel it,” Katsuki further pressed, using his strong hands to manipulate tiny Izuku’s elbows and wrist. “Anything?”
“Not…” Izuku threw his arms down in defeat. “Not yet.”
“Don’t worry kid, that’s fine,” Katsuki smiled and snatched the wand back. “We just have to find you one that works, and one that’s within budget.”
Izuku nodded and allowed Katsuki to work. Katsuki spun around the store and couldn’t find something immediate, so he pulled out his phone and started scrolling at his digitized inventory.
“What the hell is that?” Eijirou asked.
“It’s my phone,” Katsuki said plainly, ignoring the dumb question. He continued to swipe at the screen before pausing to lift his eyes to see the two young boys staring at the device with unrivaled nosiness. “Have you two never seen a phone before?”
Both boys shook their heads while never breaking contact with the glowing hand-tablet in Katsuki’s grip. “You two don’t go outside enough,” Katsuki chuckled.
“We go outside plenty!” Eijirou moaned. “We’ve just never seen anything like that.”
“They’re everywhere, what are you talking about?” Katsuki snapped back.
“He’s talking about the human world, Ei,” Izuku said softly. “Isn’t that right, sir?”
“It, uh…,” Katsuki was at a loss for words. He’d spent too much time with non-magic users to forget that their technology, their culture, wasn’t immediately available to magic users, especially young, poor orphans like the two in his store. “Yeah, actually. It’s a non-magic piece of, uh, technology.”
“Oh,” Eijirou whispered down, “I see.”
Katsuki nodded and finally found what he was looking for: a box lodged in the back, perfectly within reach and within budget. He dusted the cardboard and brought it down next to Izuku, who opened it hesitatingly. His expression said a thousand words but none more appropriate than: disappointment. Inside the box laid a perfectly straight, perfectly synthetic looking piece of wood, with minimalist inscriptions smattering the grip. This was a wand fit for a toddler, or as a decorative piece to serve no other worth than to collect dust. Ironically, it was as it had been doing for ages.
“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Eijirou scoffed at the sight.
“What do you mean ‘fucking kidding’, brat?” Katsuki harped back. “Also don’t fucking swear in my store.”
“It’s for a witch,” Izuku quietly spoke.
“Speak up kid,” Katsuki flashed his fangs at Eijirou before pulling down to meet the smaller boy.
“This wand, it’s for witches, right?” Izuku said, playing with the delicate and small piece of wizardry.
“So?” Katsuki scoffed.
“Dude, Izuku ain’t a witch! He’s a wizard!” Eijirou stood firm behind his friend.
“Who fucking cares?! It’s all the same crap anyway!” Katsuki roared back. He opened a drawer on the countertop and pulled out his own wand, birch white and sturdy, but just as long and dainty as the one in Izuku’s hands. “See? Even I have one!”
“That’s not yours, fucking liar—”
Katsuki snarled and shot a quick spell at a book behind Eijirou, sending it flying. The redhead’s eyes grew wide, and he turned around to bite his tongue.
“Izuku has small hands, so yeah, it’ll be a witch’s wand for now, but maybe something bigger another day. Okay? Idiot!” Katsuki took a deep breath, then another, before slapping a fake smile on and returning to Izuku. “How does it feel?”
Izuku gulped and said, “I still don’t feel anything—”
“No, no. How does it feel, in your hand?”
“Oh,” Izuku said, jumping into a stance and allowing the wand to lightly rest against his fingers. There was little sway, but his thumb looked to have good control on it.
Katsuki smiled, and nabbed the wand back and threw it into the box, “Looks good to me.”
“But it’s still a wand for a witch,” Eijirou grumbled.
“Gender means nothing. Up there, down here, the only thing that should matter is how it feels to hold in your hand,” Katsuki replied half-mindedly, boxing and bagging everything for the boys. His glasses fell and he bent over to the shy Izuku, palms and fingers pressed tightly on the countertop. “And if anyone gives you shit, you can whip out your new wand and right before you curse them or whatever, you can say, ‘I’m a witch, bitch!’”
Izuku laughed sweetly, bringing a smile to Katsuki’s lips. There was the enthusiasm he saw himself in, an eager magic user headed off to become a great wizard. Katsuki swept the money up and left the boys with enough change to get them a packaged meal for the trip. He handed each bag to them and wished them luck, even offering to walk them to the train station so as to not get lost. Eijirou had said no, and dragged Izuku along by his wrist. Katsuki waved and reminded them to see him in the winter, when maybe they’d be in the market for something more than just a bareboned, witch’s wand.