Chapter Text
Izuku dreamt of walking in a field of flowers. The sky was a brilliant blue and a gentle wind ruffled his hair as he walked on without a hurry or even a destination.
Suddenly something above blocked the sun temporarily, making Izuku look up. It was a dragon flying overhead. The majestic creature had approached soundlessly, but the wind blast from its wings was enough to send Izuku tumbling down, rolling into the tall grass with a yelp.
It was also enough for Izuku to find himself on the floor, tangled in his sheets after falling from his bed.
“Izuku? Are you alright, dear?”
Sunlight shining in through the window, the sound of birds singing outside and the voice of Izuku’s mother from downstairs were quite solid evidence that it was morning. Izuku hastily yelled that he was alright so his mother wouldn’t worry, and then freed himself from the confines of his bedsheets while rubbing the lingering sleepiness from his eyes.
The dream had been short and had most likely given him a bruised hip, but it still left him with a feeling that something was happening – something that he had been waiting for eagerly.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” his mother commented when Izuku sat at the breakfast table where she had set bread and grilled fish for him.
“I have a good feeling about today,” he said and took a big bite out of the fish. “I’m…goin’ to see M’ster Yagi today,” he continued, struggling to get the words out as the hot insides of the fish threatened to scald his tongue.
“Oh, in that case… Would you mind taking this to the Asuis on your way there?”
Izuku’s mother held out her hand towards a shelf in the corner of the room, and a jar filled with beautifully purple substance floated gently to her, as if pulled by an invisible string.
“Of course!” he assured her as he accepted the jar from her hand. “Anything else you need help with?”
“Not today,” she smiled. “We’re almost done with the preparations, too. All that’s left now are the guests of honour.”
Most of the village was up and about when Izuku stepped outside. After a bit of walking, he passed an old house with a commanding presence - it belonged to an old and influential family of a draconine bloodline, which had dwindled to only one remaining member. The village still was in the habit of calling her Lady Ryuko even though she didn’t truly hold any special authority.
In this time of year, the eminent heiress of the house wasn’t home. Instead, Izuku saw a young human woman was floating high above ground, scrubbing the windowpane clean with impressive vigour for the early hour.
“Ochako!” Izuku called, walking closer to the house.
“Oh, Izuku,” the young woman turned around to wave at Izuku, tossing the rag into the bucket of water floating next to her. Taking hold of the bucket, she pressed her fingertips together and descended gently to the ground.
“How’s the spring cleaning going?” Izuku asked, and Ochako sighed.
“I’m almost done, but… It’s not like Lady Ryuko has ever complained about a single thing, but I can’t help feeling a bit nervous. It’s amazing she trusts me with this amazing house!”
“She wouldn’t have started training you if she didn’t think she could trust you,” Izuku said reassuringly. “She’ll love it, just like after every winter she’s been away. Just let me know if you need help, okay?”
“Thanks, but I’ll manage,” she said and winked at him. “You’re not exactly slacking off either.”
As Izuku returned to the path, the young witch floated back to the window to continue her work.
Near the centre of the village was a large building that had an inviting air: a tavern, which often offered nourishment for the soul as much as the mind. When Izuku entered, he saw the eldest daughter of the Asui family hard at work wiping the tables.
“Good morning, Tsu!”
“Morning,” she paused her task at the pleasant surprise. “What brings you here so early?”
“Mom asked me to bring you a jar of nightberries,” he showed the purple jar. Tsuyu’s eyes glinted with excitement, and Izuku could see her long tongue briefly slip out of her mouth.
“Oh, that’s great! We just ran out and it would have been a shame to have the spring festival without some.”
She took the jar and placed it on the bar countertop before looking at Izuku again.
“It’s almost that time, isn’t it?”
Izuku ignored the knots of anticipation winding in his guts.
“Yeah…it is.”
Master Yagi’s house was located at the end of the path, just before the forest began. It was a small cottage with a strange, crooked roof. Izuku had offered to help fix it several times, but the owner of the house assured him it wasn’t necessary – the roof was structurally sound and didn’t leak, so there was no reason to change it.
In a way, the odd house suited the man who inhabited it. Master Yagi had come to the village when Izuku was but fifteen years of age. He looked frail and haggard, but he knew a great deal of powerful magic and he had been a great warrior in his time. Izuku didn’t know the exact reason he had chosen to come to such a small, backwater village and teach an incurably unmagical person such as Izuku when he could be living in great palaces training the greatest sorcerers of the generation.
Master Yagi was outside hanging laundry when Izuku arrived.
“Young Midoriya, good morning,” he called with a wave. “Perhaps I am running a bit late. We can begin on your lesson after this.”
“Let me help!” Izuku exclaimed, grabbing the basket and a handful of clothespins.
The wind began to pick up again as they hung various pieces of clothing on the ropes tied between two young trees. The fluttering of the clothes made Izuku remember the dream he had woken up to, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Did something good happen, my boy?” Yagi asked shrewdly.
“Not really,” Izuku said as he attached another pin in place. “I just…it could be any day now.”
“That’s true,” Yagi nodded and inclined his head as if he was confirming something from the wind. “Do you still intend to go through with what you told me about?”
The memory of the conversation made Izuku’s heart skip a beat. Just discussing the idea with Master Yagi had been nerve-wracking, so what would the real deal be like…?
“I do… I will,” he said with conviction, only to falter somewhat in the next moment. “I hope he’ll say yes.”
“Young Bakugou, if anyone, will see the significance of what you ask. And as for the other matter-“
Suddenly, a voice rang from the direction of the village.
“The dragons are returning!”
Izuku turned around so quickly he promptly dropped the basket he had been holding, almost bursting into a run before remembering himself and turning back with a sheepish expression. Luckily Yagi just laughed.
“Go ahead, my boy. We will save the lesson for another day.”
Izuku yelped an apology before sprinting away – this was the moment he had been dreaming of for months now. The hibernation was over, and the dragons were coming back. Katsuki was coming back.
The back of Izuku’s neck tingled with anticipation as he hurried towards the edge of the village. He could see them at a distance, and broke into a run again, seeing Katsuki also hasten his steps as he spotted Izuku. Their paths collided on a small wooden bridge over a creek, and they latched onto each other with the enthusiasm of two people who had been wanting to do this for quite some time already.
“Welcome back, Kacchan,” Izuku said, his voice partly muffled as his face was pressed against Katsuki’s shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”
“Never better,” Katsuki assured him, carding his clawed fingers in the short hairs of Izuku’s nape. Izuku angled his head up and pulled the other closer for a kiss – in any other time of the year he might have felt shy about it, but in this particular moment he was just too wound up in sheer happiness to care. Katsuki’s parents and other villagers gathering around them didn’t react much beyond some good-natured chuckles; the novelty of teasing the lovebirds had worn off a couple years ago already.
That night, the village threw a welcome party to celebrate the dragons returning for the summer. Food and drink were served, and the mood was festive to the point of rambunctiousness as everyone celebrated the coming of the warmer season after the long quiet of the winter. The dragons used their magic to light ceremonial fires to show that the heart of the mountain had blessed them this year, too.
As the party neared its end, it came time to bring the fires together to form a large circle. Humans and dragons alike gathered inside the circle – the ground was still slightly cool to sit on, so stools and chairs were brought from inside various houses to seat everyone comfortably under the stars.
This part of the tradition was meant to fill the gap in the community after the absence of some of its members. First, the humans would share stories of the past winter, talking about any major changes that had occurred while the dragons had been gone. Izuku had a hard time tyring to stay still on his seat, the words bubbling inside him begging to be let out – but the time wasn’t right yet.
After everyone had had their chance to speak, it came the dragons’ turn. They recounted what kind of dream they had had right before waking up from their hibernation. The vision was believed to be a sign of what the coming year would bring, so the humans always listened with great interest, and elders did their best to interpret the dreams.
Izuku was relieved to hear that the older dragons had seen signs of prosperity and peace, but it was Katsuki’s vision he really was looking forward to. His hands balled into fists on his lap as the youngest dragon began to recount his vision.
“There was a long, dark tunnel,” Katsuki said. “I thought I could see something at the end of it, some kind of light, but I didn’t get that far before it ended.”
None of the elders made attempts to explain the dream. Katsuki seemed a bit disappointed at receiving such a vague vision, but Master Yagi simply smiled and advised him to keep an open mind.
After the stories were finished, the party petered out as people began to feel too tired to keep their eyes open. People said their goodbyes and retreated to their homes. Izuku’s mother left as well, but without asking if her son wanted to join her – she could already guess that he had something that would keep him awake for a bit longer.
True enough, Izuku was in no hurry to sleep. As soon as Inko had left, Katsuki turned to Izuku with an irritated expression.
“Well? You had better spit out whatever it is you want to say, I can’t stand looking at your constipated face anymore.”
Izuku did his best to suppress the blush threatening to creep on his face. Katsuki had always been quite perceptive when it came to Izuku’s moods, and even if the words were harsh, Izuku knew they didn’t come from a place of malice. Katsuki had been around Izuku all day, so he was most likely also feeling nervous and unsteady because he didn’t know what exactly Izuku had in mind that he didn’t want to tell while everyone was listening.
The two of them climbed up on the top of the roof of Izuku’s house, sitting side by side over the wooden beam holding the structure together.
Izuku’s heart was pounding. This was the moment he had been thinking of for so long. Since the day of his last solstice visit months earlier, his mind had been made up: he was going to ask Katsuki tonight.
“Kacch- Katsuki,” Izuku corrected himself. This felt like the type of situation that called for the use of his real name.
“We’ve known each other for so long that I barely have any memories from a time before you… but no matter how much time passes, I can’t get tired of you. I miss you so much every winter, but knowing that you will return in the spring makes it worth the wait. I can’t imagine a future where you don’t come back to me. Will you marry me?”
Izuku opened the small pouch he had kept attached to his belt and took out a pair of cherries. It had been quite difficult to obtain them so early in the season, but luckily the market of a nearby town had received some from the southern provinces.
Katsuki looked at the cherries before looking at Izuku’s face again. Then, he reached out a hand towards the cherries and snipped the stem at the halfway point so that one of the fruits was in his hand and the other was left in Izuku’s. Izuku couldn’t help but shiver slightly when Katsuki’s finger brushed against his hand.
“I decided long ago I wasn’t going to take a mate who wouldn’t be able to keep up with me,” Katsuki said. “At one point, I even thought that no one in this village fit the bill, but you proved me wrong. If anything, I’m the one who needs to chase after you…and I’m going to keep doing it for the rest of my life.”
They each put the cherries in their mouths and ate them together – a symbol of the promise they had just shared.
“For the record, I’m still not letting you move to the mountain,” Katsuki said while still munching on the cherry. “It’s just a bad idea.”
Izuku grinned at him. They had discussed this before, and he had expected this.
“Don’t worry, I actually had something different in mind.”
Izuku hadn’t spent the winter just twiddling his thumbs. Once he had decided to go ahead with the proposal, he had begun to look for a place for their shared home.
He knew Katsuki would never agree to him coming to live in the mountains, and admittedly it would have been hard to give up being able to see his friends and help his mother during the winter months. However, Izuku was determined not to let the current state of affairs continue – he wanted to stay closer to Katsuki. There had to be a place that would fulfil both of their needs.
Izuku had spent the months after the solstice perusing old maps and walking the forests, trying to find a spot that would serve the intended purpose. And at long last…be had found it.
“Just a little bit more,” Izuku said as he led Katsuki through the woods. He knew the way by heart, having walked it over and over so as not to show any hesitation on this momentously important day. He felt like any small mistake might cause Katsuki to reject his idea and make the whole thing fall to pieces.
Finally, they arrived at the foot of a small stony cliff with a cave-like entrance leading into the darkness. The opening was large enough for them to enter, but only while bowing their heads. The opening stretched into a corridor that was sloping downwards. It wasn’t a steep slope by any means, but just noticeable. Izuku lit a torch to grant them light.
As they kept on, the corridor became fully horizontal and grew slightly larger, allowing them to straighten their backs. It was only a short distance, but Izuku’s heart kept beating uncomfortably in his chest and every step seemed to last longer than it should. At the end of the corridor was a larger space, round and about ten steps in diameter.
“Uh, this is it!” Izuku said, gesturing around the space. Katsuki snatched the torch and began to look around, his eyes stopping at the skeletal form lying on the ground.
“I think this is an old woodwyrm’s nest,” Izuku explained quickly as Katsuki knelt to look at the remains of the beast, the size of its head alone a testament to its size – large enough that it would have been just barely able to squeeze its serpentine body through the entrance of the cave. It was a creature from ancient times when such beasts had wandered the lands in great numbers.
“The size and temperature should be suitable, of course it’s a bit different from a mountain cave but I don’t think there would be an issue if-“
“Deku, shut up,” Katsuki said before turning to look at Izuku. His face was almost childishly excited.
“It’s awesome.”
In a few short days, they returned with numerous friends to begin the work. First, they moved the woodwyrm’s remains and gave them a proper burial, making sure to thank the creature for protecting the space and keeping wild animals away for so many years. Then, they purified the cave of the lingering energy left by the corpse, burning incense and sprinkling purified salt around the area.
When the ritual side of the preparations was complete, they started the physical work. They widened the entrance so that it was possible for the future inhabitants to enter without having to crouch, supporting the structure with wooden beams as necessary.
They began to build a house hugging the cliffside, built so that the entrance to the cave was hidden in the very back – any who tried to get to the sleeping dragon would have to go through the very room Izuku slept in, effectively making him the vanguard of the dragon’s lair.
When the heaviest lifting was done, Izuku and Katsuki continued the work on their own. They spent the whole summer turning the crude structures into a viable shelter, creating thick and sturdy walls to keep the winter cold out and make sure the house would withstand the fickle winds of storms at the turn of the seasons.
Sometimes, Izuku felt a bit guilty for leaving his mother to do the housework of her home all on her own as he set off early in the morning to build his and Katsuki’s house. He tried to make up for it in the evenings, but often he was so tired he fell asleep in the middle of something, having to be shaken awake by her to haul himself to bed. She waved off his apologies, telling him she wanted nothing more than for him to invest time and effort in his own happiness and future.
Izuku and Katsuki got married in the autumn. The backdrop of the brilliant reds and oranges of the foliage that only complimented the deep, majestic hues of the evergreen trees was perfect, almost as if nature itself had changed costume to honour the occasion. The entire village seemed determined not to look any worse – everyone showed up in their finest and most colourful outfits to celebrate. The day consisted of a mixture of traditions: Izuku and Katsuki exchanging heartfelt vows and drinking from a shared cup according to human customs, and various races and contests that were common in dragonfolk ceremonies. The latter kind had to be modified somewhat, as there were not many participants who could soar through the air or hunt large game in the wild quite like dragons, but they made do. When the sun began to set, it was time for the feast and dance, from which Izuku and Katsuki were the first ones to leave, as was customary. They slipped away without saying a word to anyone, not wanting to disturb the party that would continue until not a single soul could stay awake.
The newlyweds made the trip through the silent forest to their shared future home. The house wasn’t quite winterproof yet, but it was complete enough that they could spend their wedding night in their new bedroom. It had been carved inside the cliff, with a human bed but earthen walls, like a compromise between their habitats.
If Mother Nature wore her most brilliant gown for the wedding, she shed it very quickly after the celebration was over. After the wedding night, the couple woke up to the ground laden with a thin layer of frost, their breaths coming out in white puffs in the chill morning air.
Watching the leaves fall from the trees, Izuku was tempted to cling to Katsuki, to plead and beg for him to stay, but he swallowed the words and kept his hands to himself. He knew that it would be an unfair thing to ask – the house was not ready for the winter yet, and Katsuki had the right to spend one more hibernation in his old cave, saying his proper goodbyes to the place that had been his sanctuary for many years.
The dragons began the preparations immediately, and only a couple days later, Izuku had to say goodbye to his husband yet again.
The separation was as hard on Izuku as it had always been. However, unlike many a winter, he didn’t begin this one with the sense of helpless longing sitting in his gut. Instead, he threw himself into work, continuing to work on the house, adding furniture, carving delightful decorations on the wooden structures of the house. He spent many long evenings sitting together with his mother and Ochako as they taught him to do needlework and embroidery. It was hard work – Izuku’s bloody and soon calloused fingers would testify – but he did get better week after week, and by the time his solstice visit came around, he was able to leave behind a vest covered with tiny, coloured glass beads embroidered in the shape of flames.
When he saw Katsuki wear the vest as he returned from the mountains in the spring, Izuku’s heart swelled with pride and his vision grew blurry with happy tears.
The summer that followed was the happiest Izuku could remember being in his entire life. Thanks to the interruption caused by the winter, the time after Katsuki’s return was their de facto honeymoon, and the months of separation had not caused their feelings to grow lukewarm in the slightest. When they weren’t cooped up in their little domestic paradise, they enjoyed exploring in the wilderness and visiting the village, despite relentless yet well-meaning teasing from their friends.
However, the crown of the entire amazing summer was the advent of the autumn and eventual winter. When the village sent the other dragons off for the winter, Katsuki stayed by Izuku’s side, watching his parents leave without him for the first time in his life.
The meal that evening was simple and quiet, the two enjoying each other’s presence almost completely without words. Afterwards, they walked past the bedroom and into the cave at the end of the corridor. Izuku put down the lamp he had been carrying so he had both hands free to embrace his husband long and tight.
“Good night, Kacchan,” he whispered to the other’s ear.
“See you soon, Deku,” Katsuki replied. Izuku pulled away and made a face.
“Easy for you to say.”
They exchanged a tender kiss before Izuku picked the lamp up again and left, knowing that it would only get harder to let go if he dawdled for too long.