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Izuku made his way home through the village in the afternoon, stopping to buy some bread on the way. Overall it was a beautiful day and life was good. The tailor shop he and his husband owned was doing modestly well. Most days they could afford to buy food, and they were even starting to occasionally have a little extra. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.
Katsuki was in a good mood when Izuku entered the shop. He looked up at Izuku, setting down the garment he was working on. He was surrounded by scraps of fabric and little spools of thread, all of it carefully arranged so that he could easily find what he was looking for. The shirt on the work table was nearly finished and all it needed was one more sleeve.
He smirked as he stood up, closing the distance between them and scooping Izuku into his arms. He leaned in for a kiss, tickling Izuku in the process and making him giggle. The bread was nearly crushed between them and Izuku saved it with a yelp, holding it in one hand while gripping Katsuki’s shoulder with the other.
“At least let me put down the bread,” he laughed, and Katsuki set him down.
“I have good news,” Katuski told him as they headed for the kitchen in the back of the shop.
“What is it, Kacchan? Did you find a way to get some butter to go with the bread?”
“Even better!” Katsuki assured him. “The trader came back through today and I was able to get him to part with some purple cloth.”
“Really!?” Izuku’s eyes widened as he set down the bread. “How?!”
Katsuki looked away, as if he didn’t want to answer the question.
The textile trader had come through the day before and they’d been able to get some much needed supplies, such as thread and some soft leather for heavier clothing. Usually they couldn’t afford much, and tended to go for the leftover scraps the wealthier tailors in the bigger towns had passed over. The two of them were skilled enough to be able to make an amazing set of clothes out of almost anything and get it to sell. When they had seen the beautiful purple cloth, they had both known they’d never be able to afford it. That didn’t stop them from wanting it, though, and imagining what they could do with it.
“I traded my father’s knife for it,” Katsuki finally said.
“Kacchan! Please tell me you didn’t!”
Katsuki inhaled deeply before replying.
“It was of no use to us,” he said. “We couldn’t eat it, and it was more decorative than practical.”
Izuku knew how much the knife had meant to Katsuki. It was the only keepsake he had left to remember his father, and he’d had it since before he met Izuku.
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Izuku said quietly. “But part of me is glad that you did. We can make something with that cloth- something beautiful- and finally earn a good amount of money.”
He wrapped his arms around Katsuki and gave him a kiss on the cheek. What was done was done, and there was no point in making a fuss over it. They sat down together and started in on the bread, breaking off chunks of it as they discussed what to make with the fabric.
In the end they decided on an elegant gown; something a wealthy woman might wear to a party. They should have no trouble selling such a thing in the city, where fancy gowns were in high demand. Purple dye was rare, and it was sure to fetch a hefty price.
After dinner, Katsuki laid the fabric out on their workbench, carefully cutting the pieces they would need in order to make the gown. When his eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, Izuku urged him to go to bed, and he reluctantly set his tools aside until morning.
With both of them working nonstop, it took just under a week to complete the gown. Each of them were skilled in different areas, so it was truly a collaboration. Izuku excelled at reinforcing the seams and making sure the garment would be durable and last as long as possible. Katsuki was better at design and intricate stitching, so he spent most of his time on the elaborate neckline, stitching tiny yellow roses into the rich purple fabric.
When they were finished, they had a gown fit for a queen. People from the village stopped by to admire it, but of course nobody could afford such a luxury item. They knew they were going to have to take it to the city and sell it there.
The night before they left, Katuski and Izuku had a special meal to celebrate. By their standards it was extravagant; in addition to their normal bread and butter, they had a fine stew made with fresh rabbit and a few vegetables. They had bought the ingredients from the village grocer, spending more than they should have and justifying it with the knowledge that they would soon have plenty of money.
“What are we going to buy with all the money once we sell the gown?” Izuku asked thoughtfully. “I think we should fix the roof on the shop before winter, so we don’t end up with more leaks.”
Katsuki scoffed. “You’re always so practical, Deku! Where’s your imagination? We’ll have enough left over to buy some really nice food.”
“Maybe a cow,” said Izuku, “so we can make our own butter.”
“Or a loom,” Katsuki added. “For making cloth.”
They continued to talk about all the exciting things they could buy, and how much their lives would improve with the extra money. Izuku silently blessed their good fortune. Although the knife had been important to Katsuki, it hadn’t been worth much, and the purple cloth had been the deal of a lifetime.
Eventually they began to nod off and there was nothing more to say. Izuku placed a lid on the pot of stew to let it simmer until morning, and the two of them climbed into bed. They fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms, dreaming about their unbelievably good fortune and their plans for the future ahead.
Izuku was woken up by the sound of splintering wood and he sat up straight in bed. Katsuki had woken up as well and they stared at each other, their faces lit by the moonlight. They could hear voices in the shop and someone banging things around.
“I’ll go and look,” Katuski whispered. “You stay here.”
“I’m going with you,” Izuku insisted.
The two tailors quietly opened the bedroom door and peeked out into the workshop. When they didn’t see anyone, Izuku breathed a sigh of relief. Someone had been there, though, as evidenced by the broken shutters.
“Probably thieves in the night,” Katsuki said as Izuku followed him into the workshop. “Let’s see if we’re missing anything.”
They checked all their chests and cupboards to make sure their valuables had not been taken. They could find nothing missing and were about to dismiss the ordeal as just a random event when Izuku’s eyes fell on the work table.
“Kacchan!” he cried. “The gown! They took the gown!”
They stared at the table in silence, trying to process the fact that the gown had been stolen, and with it, their hopes and dreams.
“I knew it was too good to be true,” Katsuki said. “Something just didn’t feel right about the trader, and now I know why.”
Izuku’s eyes lit up in understanding.
“Oh! You don’t think he…”
“I do,” Katsuki interrupted him. “He played me for a fool. He pretended to haggle over the cloth, knowing you and I would make something amazing out of it if he let us have it. A gown is worth way more than fabric, after all. He tricked us into doing the work for free, and on top of that he got my knife.”
“That’s terrible!” Izuku exclaimed. “What are we going to do?”
Katsuki shrugged. “Report it to the guard,” he said. “But they probably won’t do anything.”
“But aren’t you upset?” Izuku asked him. “We finally had a chance at a better life!”
“And if we had never bought the cloth, we’d be in almost the same position we’re in right now and be none the wiser,” Katsuki pointed out. “All that matters is that I still have you, and that’s enough. We’ll find a way to get by, just like we always do.”
“Yeah,” Izuku agreed. “You’re right, Kacchan. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay. We are enough.”
They swept up the debris from the broken shutter and nailed a piece of cloth over the window to keep out the night air. Neither of them feared the thieves coming back; if they had wanted anything other than the gown, they would have taken it with them the first time. When everything was done, they climbed back under the covers, settling back into each other’s arms and coming to terms with the fact that their plans had changed.
When they woke up in the morning, life went on. Izuku thought about the gown often- about how beautiful it had been, how hard they had worked on it, and the promise of a new life that had been briefly within their grasp- thinking maybe it simply wasn’t meant to be.
In a way, Izuku was glad things had turned out that way. As nice as it would have been to have had more money, he always kind of wondered if it might have changed things too much. So what if the roof still leaked, and they ate mostly bread? He loved Katsuki and they truly enjoyed the mediocre life they had made for themselves. Even if it wasn’t perfect, somehow it was always enough.