Archive of Our Own

See, it happens like this:

The moment you are born, a mark manifests on the fourth finger of your left hand. A single line, wrapped around the phalanges, forming a ring.

Because the blood vessel there leads straight to your heart, supposedly, which then must symbolise your love. Apparently.

And the thin, crisp line stays black. All the way until you meet that love of yours.

Your soulmate.

Then the line will change, become thicker, become a dazzling red. Between you, it’ll almost be as if a thread forms, connecting your fingers, connecting your souls.

It ensures that you will not lose your soulmate once you’ve come across them, whether it’s amongst a sea of people, or across a passing train.

Once you’ve met them, that’s it. You get to know each other, you fall in love, you become a bit scared at how easy it all was. It almost seems too good to be true.

But it’s not, because they are yours and you are theirs, and that’s just how the world works.

Sometimes, though, someone will be born without a line.

But doesn’t everyone get a soulmate? No, not everyone does.

That isn’t fair! No one said it was.

So what happens to them? Nothing out of the ordinary. They live life like everyone else does, except…

Except, well, they will never find that perfect match.

“But that shit’s overrated anyway,” Katsuki concludes, turning around and flashing Shouto a nasty grin.

Shouto pauses and looks up at him from under the towel he’s using to dry his hair with. He raises an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not gonna be telling those kids that.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it? I mean, look at you. Look at us. Two years strong and the fact we’re not soulmates has done nothing but strengthen our bond.” Katsuki laughs at his little joke. “Ha. Get it? Bond, because we don’t have one.”

“Yes yes, Katsuki, I do.” Shouto rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling fondly. Then that ugly voice in his head tells him, He’s only saying that because he hasn’t met his yet. You know that once he does you won’t matter anymore, and he has to turn the other way so Katsuki doesn’t see his face fall.

“Well!” Katsuki crosses the room and wraps his arms around Shouto’s waist. He presses a kiss to Shouto’s neck and says, “I’m off. See you soon, babe.”

Shouto turns his head to catch Katsuki’s lips before he goes, and closes his eyes, savouring the touch. He commits every single kiss they share to memory. The way Katsuki feels against him, the swipe of his tongue, the warmth of his mouth.

He knows that their kisses aren’t infinite, that eventually a day will come where he and Katsuki will share their last. Shouto does not know when that day is, so he treats every kiss as if it would be their final one, and he remembers every single detail.

If you asked, he could tell you where each of their kisses have taken place. When in the day. What words were exchanged in between, if any. He could tell you how he was feeling at the time, what type of kiss it was, and whether it made him forget, just for a moment, that Katsuki isn’t his, not in the long run.

The answer to the last one is no. It’s always no.

How could Shouto ever forget that he and Katsuki aren’t soulmates? That they aren’t promised to each other, that the universe doesn’t think they would be perfect?

There is no red on Katsuki and Shouto’s fingers. There is no thread connecting them.

And that would be okay, maybe, if the world consisted of just them two.

Because it would be all they know, and it would be normal, not weird or out of the ordinary.

But the world is not like that. It is much, much bigger than them, which means that there are other people, and other people who have marks, and Shouto has to see all of that.

On his way to work he passes countless people, each who have bands on their left hands. Some are black and some are red, but it’s all the same.

The fact of the matter is that when Shouto looks down at his own hand he won’t see any kind of mark at all. The fourth finger of his left hand is completely bare. And what that means for him—whether the universe doesn’t think he deserves a soulmate, or there is simply no one for him—he doesn’t know, but there’s nothing that can be changed.

In this world where people are born with a mark tying them to their soulmate, Shouto is in the select few who are born without.

It’s not all bad, however. The fact he doesn’t have a mark has propelled his career, made him one of the most sought-after models in the industry.

His agent tells him that it’s appealing he doesn’t have a soulmate, since it means anyone can have him. And that’s what the audiences eat up—the fantasy that he is attainable. Except it isn’t even fantasy, is it? It’s plain fact, more like.

The flip side of no one being promised to Shouto is that he isn’t promised to anyone either, so when you look at it like that, well, doesn’t Shouto have all the freedom in the world? He could have anyone he wants, he isn’t confined to waiting for the one.

Some people are envious of that. They have the gall to tell him how lucky he is, how they wish they were in his position. Others don’t believe that he doesn’t have a soulmate. They think his mark is covered by foundation, to sell a false image of him.

If only they knew the truth. How in reality, no one wants him. Why would they? They all have their own soulmates and someone they belong to, and who belongs to them.

When Shouto first met Katsuki, Katsuki had said that he never really understood the hype around soulmates.

If everyone has one, that doesn’t make it special.

He said it as he looked at Shouto’s left hand, which Shouto had purposely and resolutely kept on the table. It made him nervous, his heart was thumping loudly in his ears, but he needed to make it known.

That he didn’t have a soulmate, and he wasn’t going to hide it. He wasn’t interested in dating, to be honest, and had only agreed to this one because Fuyumi kept pestering him about it. Right now, he still couldn’t figure out why she thought he and this man would get along so well.

Then Katsuki glanced up, gave Shouto the most handsome smile, and told him that he was the special one here.

And it changed everything.

Shouto had never thought of himself like that. All his life, he’d heard that he was strange, an outlier, someone who didn’t belong. Everyone else had a mark and soulmate, after all.

But Katsuki.

Katsuki spoke about him like he was precious, and proclaimed that anyone who said otherwise was wholly wrong.

I would know, he added with a wink, which made Shouto blush, because I’m always right.

He was so incredibly charming and really, quite very attractive, so it was with an ease that Shouto started to fall for him. It was his attitude, his outlook, his—to borrow Katsuki’s words—‘fuck society’ demeanour.

It gave Shouto a confidence and security he didn’t even know he was missing.

And on their first anniversary, when Katsuki declared that it didn’t matter if Shouto didn’t have a soulmate, because he had Katsuki, Shouto knew that his feelings for Katsuki would only grow stronger, until he would be irrevocably, undeniably in love with him.

He just hoped then that Katsuki would love him too.

When Shouto comes home, Katsuki is in the middle of taking something out of the oven. The sweet aroma travels to Shouto’s nose and he sighs contentedly. It’s been a while since Katsuki has baked anything, he’s looking forward to trying whatever he made.

Shouto busies himself with emptying his work bag, and it is as he’s putting his drink bottle down on the countertop that Katsuki says, “Shouto. I— There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Mmh?” Shouto responds half-heartedly. He’s still tidying up his things.

Then Katsuki turns around, anxiety written all over his expression, uncertainty clear in his eyes. Shouto is suddenly on high alert.

“What happened? Is everything alright?” When Katsuki stays silent, Shouto presses harder. “Katsuki, if something—”

“I met my soulmate.”

Shouto stops. Everything stops. He watches Katsuki, taking in his appearance, trying to see if he’s different now, in any way. He’s already changed out of his work clothes, wearing an oversized hoodie, which may or may not belong to Shouto, and sweatpants, glasses resting on his nose.

Everything about him screams home, yet Shouto feels anything but comfortable right now.

He can’t believe it. He struggles to even comprehend the words.

“You met… your soulmate.”

Katsuki nods, stilted. “Yeah, earlier today. I was at the shops and then, well.”

Shouto glances at Katsuki’s hand, and realises he might’ve kept it covered on purpose. “Can I see it?”

Katsuki seems to hold back a flinch, and appears extremely reluctant to do so, but he takes the oven mitt off anyway.

Shit.

It knocks the breath out of Shouto.

It’s— It’s real.

For all the time Shouto has known Katsuki, more than the two years they’ve been dating since it took them a while to actually get together, his mark had always been a dark line. Now it’s a red band, and it looks like—

Like a wedding ring.

Shouto can’t stop looking at it, almost mystified by the sight. It’s not even the first one he’s seen, not by a longshot, and yet to see it on Katsuki…

“What are they like? Your soulmate?”

“S-Suzuki-san is nice. Friendly. Has a pleasant voice. Likes to cook too, apparently. Recommended this brand, actually,” Katsuki nods at the products on the table.

“I see,” Shouto responds in a clipped voice. He doesn’t actually care what they’re like. He hates them already, and then he hates himself for harbouring this dark ugly feeling for someone he doesn’t even know. “Did you…” He’s trying to be better about it, trying to be understanding, but he doesn’t know what to say.

Katsuki rushes to explain, “We didn’t talk much. I had to get home and Suzuki-san needed to go somewhere too. We exchanged numbers though, um.” He cuts himself off, clearly pondering his next choice of words, and Shouto tries to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking into pieces. “To text. Get to know each other.”

Get to know each other as in, get to know each other? In the way Shouto and Katsuki presently know each other?

The panic Shouto feels must be visible on his face, because Katsuki tries to ease his concerns again, telling him, “Nothing— Nothing’s been decided. I said I had a partner, and that we’re serious, so. Just friends, for now.”

Shouto finally feels like he can breathe again. A huge wave of relief washes over him, but still, he can’t stop the thrumming of anxiety under his skin. He can’t help but ask, despite how difficult it is to force the words out, his throat closing on him, “And if you find out that… you’re matched in more ways than your bond and cooking?”

Katsuki takes a deep breath in. He must’ve thought about it already. Whether for the first time or if he’s always had these words prepared, Shouto doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to find out.

At last, Katsuki says, voice strained, “Well we don’t know yet. We might end up hating each other.” He tries to chuckle, but it falls flat.

They both know how unlikely that is.

He continues, a bit more sober, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Shouto nods. He can agree with that. He’ll take it over any other alternative right now. He feels… so incredibly tired all of a sudden. This has got to be the most draining couple of minutes he has ever experienced in his life. He just wants to go to bed, just wants to sleep, just wants to hold onto Katsuki and wake up in a world where they’re destined.

He can’t just walk away when they’re still in the middle of the conversation though. That would be rude, especially considering how accommodating Katsuki has been to him, so he tries to end it politely.

“Alright. Thank you for letting me know,” he says, and then he cringes. Even to his own ears he sounds so cold and distant. Detached.

How could it be that all day at work he was thinking about coming home to his boyfriend, getting to eat whatever delicious meal he decided to make for them tonight, whilst his boyfriend had just met the person who was statistically the love of his life?

God, the universe sucks.

This will be it, and Shouto has never even told Katsuki that— But he can’t say it now, that would just be cruel. Cruel, cruel, cruel.

If the world is anything but, Shouto is yet to see it.

You knew this was coming, the shitty part of his brain chimes in. There always was an end date on your relationship. Be thankful you made it as far as you did.

“Shouto!” Katsuki brings Shouto out of his thoughts. The shock and hurt in his voice makes Shouto feel even worse. “Of course I was going to tell you, of course! You’re my partner, you’re a huge part of my life. And this— This is life-changing.”

Shouto can’t help but feel as though the words imply Katsuki will move on from him. That this, their relationship, was just one chapter of his story, and now he can finally begin his real life with his soulmate.

Katsuki seems to notice too, though he doesn’t try to take it back.

‘Don’t give me false hope,’ Shouto told him once, back in the very beginning. ‘No matter what happens, don’t you dare give me false hope.’

He remembers that promise, it seems, but Shouto wonders which ones he’ll break.

“You deserve to know,” Katsuki says very softly, lowering his gaze to the ground.

It’s as good an opportunity as any to get away, so Shouto tells him, “I’m going to shower,” and heads to their bedroom.

From behind, he hears Katsuki respond, “Alright. I’ll start cooking.”

Dinner is tense and quiet.

Aside from the horrible conversation that Shouto wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, things don’t change too much after… After.

During the day they go to work. Shouto puts on designer outfits, gets his hair and makeup done, and poses for the camera. Katsuki goes to his school, teaches his students, and banters with the kids because he finds it fun.

At home Katsuki cooks them dinner, over which they share stories about their day. Shouto updates Katsuki with the latest gossip—apparently one of the models got into a spat with the photographer but was making out with her by the end of it all. Katsuki listens intently, almost as if he’s more interested in the stories Shouto brings home than his actual work, but Shouto doesn’t mind.

He also knows how untrue the statement is. Katsuki has a shelf in the apartment full of magazines and clippings of Shouto’s various appearances. Shouto finds it incredibly embarrassing, but is also very endeared by the support.

In turn, Katsuki tells Shouto about the drama at school. Rumour has it that one of the students confessed to someone who was already in a relationship. Katsuki rolls his eyes when he says that word: relationship.

‘What do these kids know about relationships anyway? They’re like, ten!’

He proceeds to rant about how society is putting too much pressure on children and how they shouldn’t even be thinking about dating until they’re at least twenty, and Shouto finds himself smiling. He loves it when Katsuki goes off like this, talking animatedly with his hands flying all over the place. He’s passionate even about the smallest of things.

Their friends make fun of Katsuki for being old-fashioned and like a grandpa sometimes, and when Shouto points out to Katsuki mid-rant that this is exactly why, Katsuki starts targeting Shouto instead, calling him a traitor, and then the topic is changed to ageism.

Shouto listens with a fond gaze, nodding along when he’s meant to, and prodding Katsuki when he wants to have some fun.

It’s like before.

But sometimes, Shouto will catch Katsuki smiling at his phone. Will hear Katsuki start, ‘Oh, Suzu—’ before cutting himself off once he realises he was about to mention his soulmate in front of Shouto.

After one such instance, Shouto considers just telling him that it’s okay. That Katsuki can talk about his soulmate, if he wants.

They’re just friends, aren’t they?

Katsuki doesn’t hold back from talking about Izuku, or Eijirou, or any of the other people he likes to pretend aren’t actually his friends.

‘Acquaintances I put up with,’ he calls them, despite how much he cares for them and how often he sees them.

It worried Shouto when they first met, but his friends—because that is what they are, despite what Katsuki tries to say—assured him that’s just how Katsuki is.

So, Shouto tries to pretend Suzuki is just another acquaintance Katsuki puts up with. He tries to think about it the same way he would with any of Katsuki’s other friends.

If Shouto tells Katsuki he can talk about Suzuki, then Shouto can hear everything and Katsuki won’t have to feel like he’s hiding something. Won’t have to talk about it with other people, a thought that makes Shouto uneasy.

Except when he tries to get the words out of his mouth, he fails. He tries three more times, all different iterations, before he gives up. It makes him sick to the stomach, honestly. The prospect of hearing what Katsuki has to say about someone he may well fall in love with sickens Shouto.

He doesn’t ever try to tell Katsuki it’s okay again, because it really isn’t, and eventually Katsuki stops making those false starts.

At least at home, at least for now, at least while Shouto still has Katsuki… he wants to pretend.

It all comes to a head in the end, of course it does. You can only run away from something for so long, and when it’s something as obvious and glaring as a mark on your hand, well.

Sooner or later you have to acknowledge its presence.

The whole thing bears a lot of resemblance to the very first conversation they had about Katsuki’s soulmate, the really horrible one, and Shouto doesn’t know why he didn’t recognise this awful feeling sooner.

By the time Katsuki says, “Shouto… Suzuki-san asked me out on a date,” Shouto is wholly unprepared and it makes his hands falter. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking, focusing on the rhythmic action of unbuttoning his shirt.

So much of everything recently has been unplanned, a surprise, and he’s never liked the feeling of not being in control.

He shrugs the cloth off his shoulders and has his back turned to Katsuki when he responds, “Oh. What did you say?”

“Well, nothing. I wanted to ask you first.”

Katsuki sounds so hesitant nowadays, far from the confident self-assured man Shouto fell for. He hates that it’s him making Katsuki this way, making him walk on eggshells and behave carefully. Katsuki isn’t a careful person. He shouldn’t have to be.

But Shouto hates Suzuki-san more. It’s a strong word, one Shouto was taught not to use lightly, which is exactly why he knows this is exactly what he feels. He now regrets not letting Katsuki tell him about his soulmate, because this is the first piece of information Shouto has received since ‘likes to cook’, so he knows nothing else except that Suzuki has ignored the fact Shouto and Katsuki are in a relationship and asked Katsuki out on a date.

It infuriates Shouto. It makes him see red. He finds it unbelievably inconsiderate, can’t help but picture Katsuki’s soulmate as someone who is selfish and rude, and Katsuki deserves better than that. He deserves—

Shouto stops. What can he say? Katsuki deserves Shouto?

Someone who has nothing to offer, who doesn’t even have a mark, much less one that is tied to Katsuki’s?

Maybe Suzuki isn’t taking their relationship seriously. Shouto can’t exactly blame them—how many non-soulmates make it after all? If Suzuki and Katsuki are meant to be, then why should Shouto stand in their way? Why should he rid Katsuki of the chance to find true happiness?

His anger has long since turned into something mellower. A calm acceptance. Resignation. He doesn’t want to think about how it feels like giving up.

“You should go,” he says.

Katsuki tries to argue something but Shouto cuts him off. He turns and attempts a gentle smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, Katsuki is caught off guard, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Shouto’s own eyes begin to well up with tears, but he ignores them and caresses Katsuki’s cheek with a hand. Katsuki closes his own eyes and leans into the touch.

Shouto doesn’t say anything.

He knows Katsuki understands.

So, Katsuki goes on dates.

Dates with Suzuki.

And Shouto will stay at home, or he’ll go out with friends, or he’ll meet his family.

And he tries not to think about Katsuki going out with someone else.

Is it… cheating?

Shouto has no idea. He gave Katsuki permission, so.

Maybe it’s more like an open relationship, though one where Shouto isn’t seeing anyone else.

Momo tells him he could try, once. She says that she’s certain Katsuki would understand, and that the current arrangement isn’t fair to Shouto.

Shouto shakes his head vehemently the entire time, unable to even consider the idea. He tries to tell her that Katsuki is the only one for him, that no one else can compare, but the words don’t come.

He’s unable to voice it, and he thinks it’s because a part of him is afraid that saying it out loud will make the reality of it too real. That Shouto is in too deep, and that he’s going to lose everything he holds dear.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he says instead, and is grateful when Momo nods and changes the topic.

He thinks about it all the time though, of course he does. It’s especially hard not to when he sees Katsuki coming home from those dates, smiling and in a good mood. He smells different, sometimes, and Shouto wonders whether that’s Suzuki’s scent on him.

And it hurts, of course, not just because Katsuki is going on dates with someone else but because Shouto was the one who told him to try. He stands by that statement, despite the anguish it brings him. He does genuinely want Katsuki to give this a shot because, well, they’re soulmates, and Katsuki shouldn’t say no just for Shouto.

But at the same time…

With all that being said, Shouto thought Katsuki would be different. That he wouldn’t be one of those typical people who dropped everything once they found their soulmate, for their soulmate.

Katsuki was always going on about soulmates being overrated, and how he’d pick Shouto in a heartbeat anyway.

Shouto had been sceptical at first, having seen how utterly in love and inseparable soulmate couples were, but he said it often enough and with such conviction that Shouto started to believe it was true.

Now though, he’s just confirming all the insecurities Shouto has ever had.

Shouto can’t compete against destiny, can’t defy the universe, and it was stupid of him to have even tried.

He says as much to Katsuki once, which, not unexpectedly, turns out to be a huge mistake.

The thing is, they’ve been doing better lately. As much as Shouto might hate Katsuki’s soulmate, he cares for Katsuki more. He wants to know how he is, wants to hear about his day.

Truth be told, he just wants to hear Katsuki talk. So many days before were filled with silence, and Shouto can’t take it anymore.

He takes the initiative to ask Katsuki about his dates. Katsuki is surprised at first, answering Shouto’s questions with a cautious tone and watching him the entire time, but eventually he starts to relax.

It brings Shouto some relief as well, to hear that the dates sound like any other outing with friends. There’s a chance that Katsuki just isn’t telling him about the more romantic things, like if they held hands or kissed, but Shouto knows that Katsuki wouldn’t hide that. Katsuki would probably ask him first, honestly, like he has with everything else, and it hasn’t slipped Shouto’s notice that Katsuki hasn’t.

He sorely hopes that it’s because Katsuki has had no desire to.

Anyway, everything goes wrong when Katsuki reveals that his next date with Suzuki is to the art museum. And it’s… It’s a stupid thing to get angry over, really. The museum is open to the public, it’s not like Shouto owns it, but… But—

“You’re taking Suzuki to our spot?”

Katsuki opens his mouth to speak but Shouto doesn’t let him.

“How could you? That’s— That place is so special to us, and you’re just going to taint it by— I can’t believe you!”

“It’s just a fucking museum, Shouto!” Katsuki responds to the anger easily. That’s the thing about their fights, they both have quick tempers and are driven by their emotions in the moment. They end up saying things they don’t necessarily mean, and they don’t think before speaking.

They only care about winning the argument. Getting in the final word.

“Just a fucking museum?!” Shouto throws his hands up in the air. He paces around the room. He can’t even think of words right now. He can’t believe Katsuki just said that. It wasn’t even Shouto who started calling it their spot!

It was Katsuki, who liked to take him there because he finds it funny Shouto is ‘as beautiful as the statues’, and he gets a particular kick out of making the two of them parody the various poses in the paintings.

He takes the most artistic photos of Shouto when they visit, saying it’s easy because Shouto is so photogenic and that the camera loves him, emphasising the word just enough to make Shouto’s stomach flutter. Then he’ll wink, and laugh at what a blushing mess he’s made of Shouto.

‘It’ll go well with the flowers! Quick, stand over there. Oh no, Shouto, I can’t see you! You and the flowers… You’re too alike!’

And Shouto will roll his eyes, face still flaming, but he’ll be thinking about how lucky he is to be with Katsuki, and admire the way he looks amongst all the art.

He can’t believe Katsuki just… reduced that place and all the wonderful memories they made there to being just a fucking museum.

“Never mind the fact you’re taking someone else to our place, why are you even going on these dates still? Have you not been on enough?”

“You said it yourself,” Katsuki accuses, pointing a finger at Shouto. “I owe my soulmate a chance. And I want to see what it could be like. The both of us deserve that much, don’t we?”

Shouto scoffs. He has the gall to talk about what they deserve? “What about me? Am I supposed to just wait here and see if you decide that maybe you do want me after all? That you would deign to be with someone who’s so unlovable they don’t even have a soulmate? What about what I deserve then, huh?”

Katsuki flinches. He actually reels back, and makes a wounded sound. “Don’t—! Don’t say that!” And then in a gentler voice, “Neither of us are… in the right headspace right now. Let’s just take a moment to cool off before we say something we regret.”

“I think we’ve said all that’s needed to be said.” Shouto steps around Katsuki. Katsuki latches onto his wrist, eyes wide and frantic, but Shouto wrenches himself from his touch. “I’m going to Fuyumi’s.”

And then he leaves.

Shouto types out a hurried text on his way to his sister’s place. He has her door code so he could let himself in regardless, but it’s polite to give her a head’s up.

Fuyumi calls out a cheery greeting when he unlocks the door, but once she actually sees him her expression immediately morphs into one of concern.

“Where’s Katsuki? Why isn’t he with you?”

The mere mention of his name brings tears to Shouto’s eyes. He can’t stop thinking about the way Katsuki looked before he left. He tries to explain but doesn’t get much further than a very mumbled, “Katsuki—”

Fuyumi comes up to him immediately, gently holding his elbows, peering into his eyes with the soft expression he’d seen countless times growing up. “Is Katsuki okay?”

That seems to clear his head, and he remembers how angry he had been.

“Okay?” Shouto lets out a bitter laugh. “He’s going to take his soulmate on a date to the art museum. I’d say he’s doing splendidly.” He tries to laugh again, but it gets lodged in the back of his throat and then he’s choking on seemingly nothing, blinking back tears.

“Oh Shouto,” Fuyumi gathers him into her arms and he doesn’t protest. “Oh, my baby brother.”

He notices how she doesn’t tell him that it’ll be okay. That their relationship is strong, that Katsuki will choose him, will come back to him.

It’s all he needs to confirm the fact that the odds are stacked against him now, that he’s more likely to come out of this without a boyfriend than with.

He holds her tighter and finally lets the tears freely fall.

By the time Shouto meets up with Izuku, he’s already spent a week at Fuyumi’s place. He hasn’t gone out much—he doesn’t have any work at the moment and he’s only left the house for exercise or grocery shopping, so it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t family.

It’s also been a week since Shouto has had any contact with Katsuki.

Katsuki hasn’t tried to call or text him. He hasn’t tried to call or text Katsuki either. He’s not surprised by the fact, if anything it brings him a sense of normalcy. This is just how they are, anything different would make the situation even worse.

But back to Izuku.

They’re currently sitting in an izakaya. It’s lively and loud, but Shouto likes the noise for once, because it means he can’t hear his own thoughts. On the other hand, it means he can barely hear his friend as well.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said,” Izuku leans closer, “Eijirou and I both think Katsuki is being incredibly stupid!”

Oh.

Shouto sits back. He doesn’t really want to be a part of the conversation anymore.

It doesn’t deter Izuku though, who is more than happy to keep talking on his own, sharing his musings out loud. “I mean, anyone can see it! You and Kacchan might not be soulmates but you’re more in love than some actual soulmates are!”

Shouto tries to ignore how his breath hitches upon hearing the words in love. He also fights the instinctive urge to defend Katsuki, even though he’s kind of the reason they’re in this mess. It’s just… Izuku isn’t in Katsuki’s position so he can’t possibly understand. Not even Shouto can fully understand the intricacies of it all.

The only thing he can do is give Katsuki his space and let him see his soulmate, as well as give him the capacity to decide who he’ll want to be with—if it even is a decision.

It makes him consider, not for the first time, how difficult it must be for Katsuki. Although Shouto has felt like shit since all of this began, none of it is because of his actions. He’s a passive player when it comes down to it, and even though waiting is absolutely agonising, he thinks he would prefer it to having to make a choice.

“Is he okay?” Shouto asks quietly. He doesn’t know if he’s spoken loud enough for Izuku to hear, but he notices the way his friend falters in his movements so it must’ve been audible.

Izuku looks down at his food as he admits, “He’s not doing great.”

And it hurts to know that, it really does. It sucks that Shouto can’t reach out and comfort him either. He knows that they never said they would be taking a break or that there was no contact allowed, but he knows it’s for the best. Still, that doesn’t make it any better.

“How are you doing?” Izuku glances back up and redirects the question to Shouto. It catches him off guard, if only because he thought it’s been obvious how he is. He didn’t think he would ever have to voice it.

He chuckles weakly, then—borrowing Izuku’s words—responds, “I’m not doing great.”

Izuku sighs, a loud and full-bodied movement. He buries his face in his hands and says, “I just don’t understand why… If there’s anyone that deserves…”

When he trails off, Shouto doesn’t try to fill the gap. He doesn’t understand it either. If things are really destined in this world, was it destiny that had Shouto falling for Katsuki only to rip him away? Wasn’t it bad enough that Shouto didn’t have a soulmate?

Shouto really hates the universe sometimes.

They stop talking about the Katsuki-and-Shouto issue after, moving on from any mention of Katsuki at all, for which Shouto is grateful. They discuss lighter topics, Shouto asks Izuku how he is and how work has been treating him, and listens as his friend recounts a variety of stories and events.

It’s been great seeing Izuku, really. It’s done wonders for his mood and improved his outlook on everything. If nothing else, he will at least still have Izuku, and all his other wonderful friends.

He tells Izuku this, who predictably becomes teary-eyed, and pulls Shouto in for a tight hug.

“I love you, Shouto. Don’t you forget it! You will always have me, have us. Always.”

The affirmation makes Shouto want to cry too, but he holds it in. He’s been crying too much lately, and even though the emotions this time would be different, he’s frankly tired of it.

When they pull apart Izuku gives Shouto a consoling pat on the shoulder and tells him, “I’ll beat some sense into Kacchan the next time I see him too, don’t worry,” finishing with a wink.

It makes Shouto smile, genuinely for once. “Haha, thanks Izuku.”

Izuku flashes him a toothy grin, and then they go on their merry ways.

Shouto’s lightened mood follows him back to Fuyumi’s place, but like the flick of a switch, the moment the door closes behind him everything flips. It’s as if reality crashes back into him. His face falls, any remnants of a smile gone. Suddenly his coat is weighing him down too and it’s with heavy footsteps that he walks to his room.

See, he can’t stop replaying the words Izuku spoke earlier.

You and Kacchan might not be soulmates but you’re more in love than some actual soulmates are!

That’s the thing, isn’t it?

Even though Shouto has been validated by the fact their friends think he’s in the right, it all still sucks. It doesn’t change the fact that Shouto and Katsuki don’t have a bond between them, which is what threw them in this situation in the first place.

If only Shouto were Katsuki’s soulmate, if only he had a band that connected him to Katsuki, wouldn’t that solve everything?

You have me, Katsuki told Shouto once.

It was only a little over a year ago, when Shouto thinks about it, but it feels like forever. So much has happened since then, after all.

Shouto doesn’t even have Katsuki anymore!

He has no one.

Which then makes him think, if not even Katsuki will want him, then who will?

Maybe those people were right. Everyone who said Shouto would never find anyone, that he should just give up on ever having a relationship, that he would come between real couples—ones who were soulmates. He should have listened to them. Maybe—

Shouto clambers off the floor, searching the room frantically, feeling almost out of control. Once he locates what he’s looking for, he grips it tight in his fist, then sits back down in front of the door, facing the mirror.

He pulls off the cap with his teeth, then, with trembling hands, presses the red tip to his skin. Slowly and carefully he drags it around the width of his fourth finger, going in loops until the ink covers a good portion of it.

When he’s done, he puts the marker down and admires his work.

It’s jarring, to see the mark he sees on so many people daily on himself. It looks out of place, but really, this is how he should look, isn’t it?

He should have this band, not drawn in ink but as a permanent part of himself. He should have been born with a black line around his finger, and it should have expanded when he first met Katsuki.

He should have been Katsuki’s soulmate.

And he wants to pretend that he is. He looks at this mark and wants to tell himself that it has always been there and is what ties him to Katsuki, but even he can’t fool himself of that.

As temporary as this band is, so was his relationship with Katsuki.

It was a good two years though, wasn’t it?

Shouto had been so, so happy.

Right now, it’s hard for him to believe that he’d ever felt that way. That he’d been capable of such positive emotion before. All he’s been lately is sad, and tired, and just…

He starts rubbing the ink on his skin because there’s no point to it anyway, but then it’s not coming off easily and that just frustrates Shouto even more.

He’s so angry all of a sudden but most of all he’s just upset, because he wants Katsuki, wants him so badly but he can’t have him and it makes him want to cry but the tears won’t even come—he’s cried himself dry since ages ago.

They’re still there though, he can feel them pricking his eyes and that almost hurts even more, the fact he can feel the sensation and the build-up but no relief afterwards.

That’s what his life is now, he supposes.

Waiting and waiting, for something that may not even exist.

One day, Shouto wakes up to a string of messages from Katsuki. They were sent late the previous night and read:

You’ll never believe what happened today.

The drama of the century has concluded! A quick recap: no one is dating anyone anymore, everyone has broken up, and they’re all not speaking to each other.

Let’s make bets on how long that’ll last, I say two days. By Friday they’ll kiss and make up (god I hope these kids aren’t actually kissing each other) and then it’ll start up again. Ugh.

Help me. I’m not here to play chaperone I’m supposed to be teaching them maths and shit.

I can’t believe a day has come where I would take SCHOOL over drama but. It is what it is.

I’m old now.

As Shouto reads through them, he can’t help the laughter that escapes his lips. He’s still curled up in bed, curtains drawn, but he ignores how it’s probably bad for his eyes and holds his phone up to his face.

He doesn’t know how many times he rereads the messages before remembering that he can do other things. Like text back, for example.

I give it a week. They’ll realise over the weekend how much they miss each other and the drama will start up again on Monday.

Katsuki replies almost immediately, a simple: You’re on, but it makes Shouto jump.

His heart starts thudding in his chest and he grips his phone tight, as if clinging onto this connection to Katsuki.

It’s been so long.

Shouto knows he’s missed Katsuki but it’s obvious now that he didn’t quite realise the extent of it. The longing he’s hit with is almost physical, it wants to drag him out of bed and all the way back to his shared apartment with Katsuki just so he can feel like he can breathe again.

Katsuki doesn’t even have to be there. Just being in that space, the one they made theirs, would be enough.

Later, when Shouto is at work and taking a break, it crosses his mind that he should probably find it weird that Katsuki just texted him like nothing was out of the ordinary. Honestly though, he finds that so much more bearable.

Shouto doesn’t know if he could mentally handle addressing the situation again anytime soon but he also doesn’t want to go on without any sort of contact with Katsuki so the change is a welcome one.

Soon he and Katsuki begin texting regularly again. It’s stilted at first, from both sides—when the conversation lulls neither of them try to drag it out, nor do they change the topic. Shouto thinks they’re both being careful, possibly too careful, but he doesn’t want to take any risks. It doesn’t seem like Katsuki does either.

They stay on safe topics, which pretty much amounts to gossiping—or in Katsuki’s words, ‘politely discussing intimate details overheard’—about others.

Katsuki won their bet. After work that first Friday Shouto looked at his phone to find a descriptive recount of what happened at Katsuki’s school. Although it had a lot of flair, Katsuki did not appear to boast or be smug about his victory. That was, until Shouto reached the final message.

Basically: I won the bet. What did I tell you? I’m always right.

Shouto rolled his eyes and texted back, These are YOUR students. What sort of teacher would you be if you couldn’t read them?

He imagined Katsuki wore an aghast expression when typing his response. BOO! Don’t be a sore loser and try to downplay my win. Hate the game, not the player!

Sometimes they don’t talk at all, not with words at least. Sometimes Katsuki will just send Shouto various pictures he’s taken—of flowers, of the sunlight hitting their bed, of random cats he comes across.

Shouto doesn’t reply to those. He feels like there’s something sacred about them, messages unspoken but contained within, and he doesn’t want to ruin their delicate nature by postulating one single interpretation when there could be upwards of hundreds.

He will, however, occasionally send his own photos. None that are taken himself, unless you count the ones where he snaps a picture of the monitor with his image on it. Most of them are from his manager, who takes behind-the-scenes pictures for PR reasons, but Shouto just wants to show Katsuki.

It always feels a bit weird, egotistical but also embarrassing, to send Katsuki pictures of himself, but he knows Katsuki appreciates them. At the end of the day, Katsuki is someone who appreciates art in all forms, and Shouto is someone whose work can be considered an art form.

Katsuki doesn’t really respond to Shouto’s images either, though sometimes he will reply to one picture in particular and tell Shouto to tell his manager to post that one.

As more time passes, Shouto’s opinion begins to change and he starts to be more unnerved by the fact neither of them have brought up or questioned the state of their relationship rather than enjoying blissful ignorance. Also, he’s just so incredibly curious.

Because something must have happened, right? Before Katsuki was content or could at least get by without texting Shouto but now there’s not a day that passes where Shouto doesn’t receive some sort of message—more often than not, a wall of messages—from Katsuki so something must have shifted.

Shouto doesn’t know if he wants to know what it is that made Katsuki think differently. Most of all, he doesn’t want to get false hope.

But it’s so easy, right now. Talking with Katsuki. Easy in a way that almost feels like ancient history, with how tense and terse their last few conversations in person had been.

That fact alone is giving Shouto false hope, whether he’s conscious of and is acknowledging it or not. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that he should ask for or even demand some sort of explanation. He knows he needs to get at least some answers, be able to prepare himself for whichever outcome, because if he doesn’t and the worst-case scenario happens…

The lightest way to put it is that Shouto will end up tremendously hurt.

He ignores all of that though, of course. Why stress yourself out and be caught up in what might happen in the future? He has Katsuki now, no matter the ambiguity of what they are to each other. He’s going to savour that to the fullest.

Katsuki brings it up himself, sometime later. It’s late in the night, and Shouto is staying up to talk with him. It makes him feel like a teenager, staying up to text their crush, but everything feels so familiar right now, as if they’re still dating but are simply stuck in different locations, and he doesn’t want to let go of that or cut off the flow by going to sleep just yet.

Katsuki reveals, a few minutes after the typing indicator first appeared, I haven’t been seeing Suzuki by the way. Thought you should know. Stopped right after we fought, actually. Needed time to think.

When Shouto feels the vibration of the incoming message he flips his phone back over and is momentarily blinded by the brightness of his screen. Once he reads Katsuki’s words his heart leaps into his throat.

This has to mean something. Why is Katsuki telling him now? Has he come to a decision?

‘Needed time to think.’

That’s in the past tense. Has he had the time to think then?

Oh, Shouto texts back. He’s about to ask Katsuki, feeling bold all of a sudden, but Katsuki messages him first.

Shit, I gotta go to sleep. Didn’t even realise it got this late.

Goodnight, will talk to you tomorrow. Or today. Whichever it is.

Shouto bids him farewell, wishes him sweet dreams, and says he will hold him to his promise.

He should go to sleep himself, but he finds himself rereading Katsuki’s last texts instead. He reads into every word, as if trying to decipher a hidden meaning, even though the logical part of his brain knows that there is probably none.

When he finally puts his phone away he realises that he feels giddy, and he’s too excited to try and quell the emotion. He thinks he’s being ridiculous, but he can’t help it.

He smiles into the darkness, and falls asleep before long.

Katsuki hasn’t replied to any of Shouto’s messages today.

He was at work before so it was fine, but he should be home by now, and if for some reason he’s not—the weather outside is currently horrendous and Shouto is starting to worry.

He’s sitting on Fuyumi’s couch, staring at his phone, at the texts Katsuki hasn’t opened, and is debating whether to text again or try calling him this time. It’s stupid, but the thought of the latter makes him nervous. Sure they’ve been talking often through the phone, except that was with text, not their voices. Shouto doesn’t know what it will do to him, to hear Katsuki’s voice again after so long, but what matters most right now is Katsuki’s safety.

Shouto hovers his finger over Katsuki’s phone number and is just about to press on it when the doorbell rings. He calls out to his sister but receives no response, so he puts his phone down and walks to the front door, pulling it open, wondering who the hell would come in the middle of pouring rain and—

It’s Katsuki.

Standing there, absolutely drenched.

There’s a small puddle of water pooling at his feet, and his clothes cling onto him. His hair has been flattened by the rain, making him appear shorter than usual.

It’s—

Shouto doesn’t know how to breathe anymore because Katsuki is here, he’s actually here in the flesh and Shouto is having such a hard time believing it he doesn’t know how he would even—

He finally wills himself to move and he lifts a hand to— He doesn’t know. Touch Katsuki? Grasp onto him? Pull him in and never let go?

But then Katsuki tilts his head up, and Shouto can see his face properly for the first time, and it’s wet, and there’s still water streaming down his face, and Shouto can’t tell if it’s just rain or if Katsuki is crying too but either way his heart can’t handle the sight, he doesn’t want to see Katsuki like this, ever, so he tries to bring Katsuki inside but before he can even open his mouth Katsuki says all at once:

“Shouto— It’s you. I— You’re it for me. I don’t care about… soulmates, or the fact I have a mark and you don’t. I don’t care about whatever the fuck the universe wants to say about us because I want you. I choose you.”

And that’s overwhelming enough. It’s so much to comprehend, Shouto doesn’t know if he’s even understanding the words coming out of Katsuki’s mouth, but then he doesn’t have to try, because, well:

“It’s— It’s— I love you, and nothing can change that. Not Suzuki, not anyone, not anything else. I love you, Todoroki Shouto.”

Katsuki loves him. Him!

The first time either of them have said these words—out loud at least—and it’s in the middle of a storm, as Katsuki tells the universe to go fuck itself and chooses Shouto.

Shouto ducks his head to hide the tears forming in his eyes. They’re uncontrollable, but Shouto doesn’t mind. They feel like the first drops of rain after a long drought. He welcomes them.

When he looks up again, Katsuki goes a little wide-eyed, and he seems concerned about the state of Shouto’s, well, just Shouto in general, but Shouto gives him a smile, and his eyes are gleaming with joy, and he says, “Let’s go home.”

They decide to walk to their apartment—in the time it took for Shouto to gather his things and thank his sister for letting him crash at her place for so long, the rain has let up. It’s only lightly drizzling now, and neither of them mind being in it.

Not when it prolongs their journey, allowing them to become reacquainted with each other in a more public setting before venturing behind closed doors.

They don’t talk much, instead just enjoying being in one another’s presence again. They walk hand-in-hand, and just this, this casual touch and proclamation that they are a couple, fills Shouto’s heart with happiness.

He can’t believe it, still. He’s on cloud nine, drunk on elation, and is still half-convinced that it’s all a dream. But then Katsuki squeezes his hand and smiles at him with eyes so loving and that’s all the confirmation he needs, isn’t it?

It doesn’t stop Shouto from continually looking down at their interlaced fingers though. He honestly, really, didn’t think that he would ever have this again.

On one such glance, Shouto notices something. He can’t see any red on Katsuki’s skin. Curious, he brings their hands towards his face, loosens his hold a bit, and checks to make sure his eyes haven’t been deceiving him. Indeed, where a thick red band once wrapped around Katsuki’s ring finger, there is a blank, unblemished patch of skin instead.

Shouto brings up his own left hand and compares the two. They look… the same. Not like the hands of someone who has a soulmate and someone who doesn’t. Not even like the hands of two people who don’t have soulmates.

They just look… like hands. Nothing more to it. No marks, no predetermined destinies, no nothing.

“I covered it with foundation,” comes Katsuki’s voice, and it feels so far away. “I wanted it to be the same as yours. Rather, I wanted to ignore the fact soulmates exist at all. I won’t be governed by that, I have my own free will. And I choose to be with you.”

It’s a long-winded way to say I love you, but it’s Katsuki’s way, and that fact alone makes it Shouto’s favourite.

“It didn’t come off in the rain?” he asks curiously. As if to test it, he rubs his thumb over the area. It doesn’t budge.

“Nah, it was one of those long-lasting ones.” As an afterthought he says, “Sure is strong.”

Shouto chuckles. He grips Katsuki’s hand and they start walking again. He swings their arms too, just slightly. He’s so happy. “Let’s wash it off when we get home.”

Katsuki gives him a questioning look.

Shouto smiles at him and explains, “Your mark is still a part of you, isn’t it? And I love you. All of you.”

Red blooms across Katsuki’s skin, as red as his crimson eyes, as red as his currently-hidden soulmate mark. When it’s like this, Shouto thinks, he doesn’t mind the colour.

It’s also not lost on Shouto that at one point, both he and Katsuki had tried to alter their marks, or lack thereof. He decides to take a page from Katsuki’s books and mentally sends a big ‘fuck you’ to the universe.

Shouto and Katsuki are their own version of soulmates. No matter what anyone else tries to say.

Katsuki holds his hand tighter, and they continue on home.

“I’ve missed you,” Shouto says out loud once they step into the apartment.

“I missed you too,” Katsuki replies.

“I was talking to the house,” Shouto tells him, and is treated to an eye-roll in response. He laughs. So freely, with no inhibition.

He looks at Katsuki, in the middle of taking off his shoes, and thinks, I’m so happy to be home.

They kiss for the first time in over two months under the spray of water. It’s incredibly gentle, slow and sweet, tender to the very bones.

Shouto helps Katsuki remove the makeup on his finger, then presses his lips to the mark there, and watches as Katsuki does the same to Shouto’s, kisses the spot where no band lies.

They kiss other places too. Katsuki’s temple, Shouto’s shoulder, their mouths, again.

It’s all Shouto could have asked for—the feeling of Katsuki’s bare skin against his own, the steam clouding his sight, the heat of Katsuki’s mouth.

Later, as they’re lying in bed together, Shouto will take Katsuki’s left hand once more. Katsuki will turn onto his side and snake his arm around Shouto’s torso so he can hold him closer.

And Shouto will look down at their fourth fingers, one with a red band, one void of a mark at all, and think that it’s a beautiful sight.

He’ll still have trouble believing that they’re here. So much has changed after all, yet their love hasn’t. If anything, it might’ve gotten even stronger.

This isn’t the end of it though, and Shouto isn’t naive enough to believe that it is. They’ll have to talk about things no doubt, and Shouto definitely has questions, but for the moment…

He thinks it is—they are—perfect.