Archive of Our Own

To be a god was a powerful thing. Or so the humans always moaned, their cries reaching high into the night skies. Pleas for safety or food or love. Those early years were especially fraught, cowering in caves with nothing to warm them but their own skins. Until the day they discovered fire, and the first note of joy was sung into the skies. They learned to kill and learned to plant, and the notes became stronger. 

It wasn’t until the year temperate rain yielded the very first crops, springing from the ground in bounteous droves, that their melodies grew into a chorus strong enough to reach the heavens. The humans sang to the gods of joy and relief, praises shouted from rugged huts to the field as they danced through verdant pastures. 

Their voices fell on the ears of the gods like music, and oh did they revel. For to be a god was to be power, and what was power if not all that was strong and lovely and good in the world? 

Human joy took physical form in the form of a child, begot by the old gods who thought they were done with creations. 

A boy, and by all accounts, the most beautiful being to be born in any world. 

His hair shone red like fire, and all who laid eyes on him were filled with a light that rivaled the very sun itself. 

His parents called him Eijirou.

Everywhere he stepped, he was adored, by none more so than his mother, who swore her child would be the most powerful god of all.  

The boy god was five when he encountered a bear stumbling through the frozen tundra of the gods’ world. It was old, staring at Eijirou with hunger in its rheumatic eyes, and before the boy could move, the bear reared on its haunches and swiped, hard enough to slice the boy to pieces.

But to the delight of his mother who had come running, the boy was unharmed. The bear turned to run in the presence of the goddess, but she fell onto her knees in front of her child.

Marks appeared on his body for a moment, three long claws. They shone before sinking into the boy's skin. After a minute they faded until they looked like a decades old scar.

The goddess marveled and called to her husband. The old god quickly unsheathed his axe and sent it hurtling at the startled boy. 

Instead of plunging into the boy’s forehead, it bounced harmlessly off his skin and fell to the ground. A red line shone for a moment, a little longer than the bear’s claw, before sinking into the young, glowing skin until it was nothing but a faint mark.

“Will the scars fade?” The goddess asked. “He will be less beautiful with scars.”

“Does it matter?” The god laughed, the noise sending birds scattering for miles. “He is invincible!”

“No god has ever been truly invincible,” she murmured, pulling her son to her, peering at him like she could read the truth of his demise on his skin. 

“Ours is.”

“Yes,” the goddess sighed, letting one elongated fingernail slip into the soft skin above the boy's crimson red eye. Eijirou didn’t move, just stared at her, gaze wide and trusting as the cut burned bright and faded to a thin white line. She smiled then, a terrible and beautiful thing. “Yes, he is.”

They presented their son’s power to the other gods the very next day. 

“He will be the one to usher the gods into their most glorious age,” his mother decreed, arms outstretched, but it was the boy's eldest brother who threw the first knife. 

“To see if it’s true!” The brother exclaimed, ignoring his mother’s cry. And before the old goddess could stop them, the other gods were already taking out their own weapons. And so the young god stood there, smiling at the laughter surrounding him, as knives and arrows ricocheted off his skin, beautiful and unharmed. 

A seer was brought forth to read the prophecy of the young boy god, and the mountains shook as he read:

“From purest joy this boy god was born, 

Of immortal strength and beauty unfurled.

But beware the tides of balancing fates

For with his death, so dies the world.”

But the gods did not listen. How could the world end if Eijirou was invincible? All laughed except a small god in the corner, hair blond as the sun against a hazy sky, flames sparking against his hand.

“Katsuki! Come out and play with us!” the gods cried, their knives falling harmlessly at Eijirou’s feet. But the boy ignored them, eyes never leaving the red-haired god of joy. 

And so begins the story of two boy gods: 

One who was all things pure and beautiful and good in the world.

And one who killed him. 

Eijirou was seven when he first heard the word all humans fear.

“The mortals are at war,” his father grumbled, scratching at the pocket of skin where his eye once sat. He hadn’t told Eijirou that story yet. “I thought we’d have a few more decades of peace yet.” 

“It was only a matter of time,” the goddess of battle laughed, rolling her slim shoulders. “The question is whether we should join them.”

“We don’t join the mortals’ petty wars,” Eijirou’s mother sighed.

“Why not?” Eijirou asked. For him, war was still an ambiguous word. All he knew was the prayers of the humans below turned from joyous exultation of the gods, to fervent prayers of good crops, to finally crying lamentations of death. The word ‘war’ came quickly after.

“Human lives are short, little brother, and ours are long,” one of his brothers, the middle son, leaned over to shuffle Eijirou’s hair. “Best to let them deal with their own problems. If we snapped to earth every time another war arose, we’d hardly spend time at home.”

“Besides, humans are vengeful, petty creatures,” his mother nodded. “We help them now, and they will never learn. They will have their hands outstretched, demanding, pleading every time one of their own goes missing. No, let them settle their problems themselves.”

And so the joyous songs that birthed Eijirou turned into cries, and the gods did nothing. 

Eijirou was fifteen when he was first allowed to walk the earthly planes. His mother said it was because he was far too precious and mortals had a way of ruining beautiful things. Eijirou was curious, though. He wanted to understand the beings who sang such joyous hymns to the gods' glory.

They weren’t singing now though. He had barely descended to the ground when he heard the agonizing cries of dying humans.

He followed the sound to a fishing village, its people lining the beach, watching a boat being battered by the waves just off the shore.

“What’s wrong?” Eijirou yelled over the sounds of the storm.

“They can't make it past the waves, the water god is calling them back to the sea!” The woman next to Eijirou cursed, making a strange sign with her hands.  

“I can help!”

“You? You’re just a skinny thing…” the woman trailed off as she turned to Eijirou for the first time. 

He was tall, taller even than most of the humans, definition rippled through his young muscles, his face was open and honest, and he seemed to glow brilliantly against the darkened sky.

“Go then,” the woman cackled, clutching at the scarf covering her head. “Show us your strength, young warrior. Let him through!” She turned her last words to the townspeople clamoring along the beach.

They parted when they saw him, his steps confident and sure as he stepped into the turbulent waters. 

He stopped when the waves hit his chest and raised an arm. “Turn here!”

“Impossible! The oar is lost and we can’t guide it to shore,” one of tne of the fishermen atop the boat shouted, face weathered from years under the sun. Sailors clung to the railing, bracing against the waves pulling them farther from the beach.

“Throw me a rope then, I’ll pull you!” Eijirou cried, voice already deepening with age. 

“It’s too dangerous, young man! You’ll be sucked in as well!” 

“Just do it!” Eijirou yelled. 

The sailor shouted one final command and tied the edge of the rope to an arrow. He notched it in his bow and let it sail, right into Eijirou’s waiting hands. Rain clung to his skin and clothes, and for a moment his fingers slipped on the rope. He wrapped the soaking strands around his forearm and pulled. Red welts appeared along his hand, but he felt nothing.  

Cheers rose around him and he couldn’t help but smile as he took one step back, then another, and another, until the ship was pulled half out of the water. 

The sailors jumped from the ship, legs sinking underneath them as they fell, but they were up in an instant. Open arms welcomed them home with laughter and promises of warm meals. 

Hands came to clap around Eijirou’s shoulders. “Our savior,” one of the sailors marveled, and the others quickly joined in. Strong hands patted Eijirou’s back and he felt something like pride for the first time in his life.

Warmth spread through him, like nothing he ever felt as another set of arms wrapped around him.

A boy stood next to him suddenly, a little shorter, but strong, muscles bunching under his tunic. His cheekbones were cut high, but there was a shadow that pulled along his smile. 

“What a savior.” The boy’s voice was light, but there was something in the glint of his red eyes that had the hair on Eijirou’s neck stand up.  

“You have our thanks, young man,” the older fisherman laughed, “come drink with us! We owe you that at least!” He smiled at Eijirou, relief clear on the lines of his face.

Eijirou was about to follow when a knife came slicing across his abdomen. It slid harmlessly off his skin before falling to the ground. Its owner was nowhere to be seen.

“Young man, are you alright…” the old sailor’s voice trailed off as he watched the knife cut glow bright red before fading.

A cry of terror rose from one of the women, followed by another. Kirishima turned to see the townsfolk on their knees, eyes shielded.

“Are you some monster?” the old sailor asked, he was the only one standing, but the kindness was gone from his face. He held a knife pointed towards Kirishima.

“No—” Eijirou took another step forward, but another blade flew towards him, bouncing off his chest. 

The people scattered, diving into the closest hut.

“Please,” Eijirou took another step towards the sailor, but he was backing away, knife still raised.

“We don’t want any trouble,” the man’s voice was full of terror as he backed towards an opened door. “Please, just let us be.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Eijirou alone, rain pouring down his face.

He turned in the direction the knife flew, but he couldn’t distinguish anything beyond a pair of brilliant red eyes. 

*

It was another year before Eijirou descended to the rolling plains of earth again. He made sure he went when the bridge made of knit-together rainbows that connected the two realms was deserted.

He would go somewhere beautiful on earth, he decided. The storm was treacherous, so maybe that was why the humans were so scared.

He landed on a mountaintop, smaller than the one where he was born. It was breathtaking and warm, the sun was brighter here, and Eijirou turned his face into its light.

Stones attempted to pierce the soles of his feet, but he walked on, impervious, farther down the mountain until he saw the first sign of life. A small stone hut sat in the middle of miles of fields. 

He decided to wait to see if someone emerged. He dug his feet into the fertile ground, marveling at the rows and rows of curling trees that surrounded him. Their branches were heavy under the weight of some fruit Eijirou had never seen before. They were purplish in color, a few had split open, revealing a deep pinkish red. Eijirou pulled one from the stalk and took a bite. Sweetness exploded in his mouth, and he let out a moan of delight.

The fruit dripped liquid down his fingers and he lapped its every drop, marveling at the taste. 

He was about to reach for another when a movement to his left caught his eye.

“Who’s there?” he called out, but no one answered. 

Eyes followed him though, as he pulled another fruit from the tree. This one was somehow even sweeter, and he threw his head back and laughed. 

Another movement in the trees, but Eijirou ignored it. Maybe it was another scared human, though what they were afraid of, Eijirou couldn’t understand. 

How lucky the humans were to eat these every day. He picked a few more, just enough to fill his palm, and swore to return. 

Except when he made his way back the next day, the trees were gone, the hilltop a field of chalky ash.

A strange sort of hollow settled in his chest. 

Eijirou was ready this time for the flash of movement in his periphery. He turned, faster than any animal, and reached his hand behind the burnt-out trunk of a tree.

A surprised yelp sounded as he threw the creature onto the ground. 

“Who did this?” Eijirou asked as he braced a knee on the creature’s chest.

Red eyes blinked up at him in surprise, and Eijirou stood up with a start.

“You,” he said as he watched the blond-haired boy unfurl himself from the ground, clutching his stomach, a strange smile on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to throw you. I don’t know… I don’t know why I did that.”

“So I was right,” the boy’s voice was pitched low, head tilted at an unnatural angle.

“What do you mean?” Eijirou took another step back.

“The god of all things good and pure can still be hurt.”

“Who are you?” Eijirou sputtered.

Instead of answering, the blond-haired boy knelt down and grabbed a handful of charred bark. He held it out to Eijirou, “What do you feel when you see this?”

“Feel…” Eijirou pressed at his chest. He had never thought much of it before, but there was a low burning in his stomach. “I don’t know… Something unpleasant?”

“Probably sadness,” the boy nodded before closing the distance between them until there was an inch of air between them. 

The low burning in Eijirou’s stomach bloomed into something warm. It was a pleasant sort of feeling, and he almost smiled when the boy pushed his hand full of ashy remains against Eijirou’s chest. 

“And how do you feel when I tell you that I’m the one who burned the field of figs?” Something on the boy's hand sparked, making the ash burst into flames. 

The smile fell from Eijirou’s lips as he shoved the boy away, hard enough to send him flying into the dirt. He patted at his shirt front, but all that was left was a smoldering hole.

“Why did you do that?” 

“Watching you stumble around like some paragon of perfection is getting annoying.” The boy stretched as he stood, the loose linen of his shirt rising to reveal the curve of hard abs. Eijirou tried not to stare, that burning feeling was back in his chest.

“Anger and sadness,” the boy ticked them off on his fingers. “There's one more thing I want you to feel before the sun has set. Come.”

“Will you at least tell me your name?”

The blond-haired boy turned, face pulled into a frown before he sighed. “Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” Eijirou echoed. 

Eijirou followed Katsuki as they made their way further down the mountainside, the lush landscape turning more desolate the farther they walked.

They passed a field razed to the ground like his fruit trees. This one seemed to be filled with rocks, or, so Eijirou thought at first. When he walked closer it was bits of armor scattered in every direction.

“What is this?”

“This is war, little god,” Katsuki smiled at him.

“You’re a god too, aren’t you?” Eijirou countered, matching their strides, though he kept his gaze on the field that seemed to go on for miles. 

“Unfortunately,” Katsuki cursed.

“You don’t like being a god?” Eijirou asked, but Katsuki seemed not to hear him. He turned towards a village nestled in the mountains. 

The screams hit Eijirou’s ears first, then the smell. Flames towered high in the air. A woman came running towards them, face twisted. 

Eijirou started to walk to her, but Katsuki stopped him with an arm across his chest. “Wait.”

They watched as a man in full armor, sword raised lumbered towards the woman.

“We should stop him,” Eijirou said, pushing against Katsuki’s arm.

“Why?” Katsuki asked, intense eyes trained on Eijirou’s face.

“Because it’s wrong, let me go!” 

The woman let out a bloodcurdling scream as the soldier grabbed her ankle. 

“Katsuki!” 

“What do you feel?” 

“I don’t know!” Eijirou pushed at his arm again. He was strong enough to push Katsuki down and save the woman, but something kept him frozen in place. The same curling heat built in his stomach, swirling like a tempest. “Anger?” he tried. “Sadness?”

“No, it has to be more than that,” Katsuki hissed. “Look at her. She’s about to be killed by that piece of garbage human, how does that make you feel ?”

The soldier raised his sword, and Eijirou finally lunged towards him. One punch sent the man flying backwards and into a burning building. Eijirou knelt down to help the crying woman up, but she was already on her feet and running deep into the forest.

“What do you feel?” Katsuki asked again, his voice quiet as he came to stand next to Eijirou.

“I don’t know.”

“This is going to be harder than I imagined. Such a pure god.” 

“What do you want me to feel?” Eijirou finally asked, throwing his hands out to shove at the blond god, but he had already stepped away.

“Hatred.”

“Hatred?” Eijirou parroted. He’d never heard the word before. 

“It’s the most important emotion to understand.”

“Why?” Eijirou turned to him, but Katsuki was staring off somewhere in the distance, that same strange smile on his face as his gaze traveled from the direction the soldier fell all the way up into the heavens. 

“Because I hate them all .”

*

Eijirou had two brothers, both different in their own way, but neither similar enough for Eijirou to understand them.

They were older for one, having been born decades before humans crawled from the earth. Theirs was a universe born of chaos. The middle child of their family was Inasa. God of winds and moral justice, he saw the world in extremes. There was only good and so-called ‘evil’, and it was up to the gods to decide which was which.

 The eldest child was Rappa. God of strength and mountains and violence. It was he who threw the first knife at his young brother  and never stopped.

“Brother, catch!” 

Kirishima was cleaning his armor in the stream when an arrow came flying towards him. He didn’t catch it, letting it bounce harmlessly off his temple as he stood.

“C’mon, brother, you have to try at least!” Rappa yelled, notching another arrow. 

This time Eijirou turned, indulging his brother’s latest game. The arrows flew, lightning quick, and for all Eijirou was a god, he could never seem to keep up with his brother’s speed. Arrows made it past his hand in a flurry. One hit him in the knee, the other the shoulder. Another skimmed his cheek.

Had he been any other god, he would have been killed ten times over; but he was immortal in a way that even the gods couldn’t understand.

So he remained standing, a few arrows clutched meaninglessly in his hands as over a dozen more lay at his feet. It was Rappa who was out of breath after an hour or so, quiver finally empty. He stared at Eijirou with an unreadable expression.

“Such a gift you’ve been given, brother,” he finally bit out. “You should start using it.”

“What more would you have me do?” Eijirou gathered up the arrows at his feet, frowning at the many broken ones. “I aid the humans as much as father will let me. I stopped a landslide on the mountain pass, and prevented a skirmish that would have decimated a town.”

“Oh, enough about humans , Eijirou,” Rappa yelled, throwing his bow on the ground hard enough for it to crack. “I’m talking about gods.”

“What about gods,” Eijirou asked. Keeping his gaze down from his older brother, he pulled a small rag from his belt and began to wipe the blood off his shield. The image of a snake eating its own tail glowered back at him, ruby eyes gleaming.

Eijirou had found it on the hillside where the fields of figs had burned a few months back. His mother had laughed at it, as had his brothers.

What did an immortal god want with a shield? Still, Eijirou kept it.

“Gods can die, Eijirou,” Rappa’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“‘If killed by another god or godly monster, and will remain in Midnight until the dawn of a new day’, yes I know, what does that have to do with anything?” Eijirou sighed. His brother had reminded him of this multiple times in the past week. 

“Aren’t there a few gods you wish to see gone?” Rappa asked, eyes glimmering. 

“No,” Eijirou said with conviction. Though red eyes swam in front of his vision. 

That was different, he didn’t want to see Katsuki gone, he just—

“Imagine what you could do, brother! The havoc you could wreak on these bloated, lazy relatives of ours. Imagine if they had something to fear .”

Fear . 

Eijirou disliked that word most of all, disliked the way it appeared on humans’ faces when they looked at him.

“No.”

“Come, brother, just as a bit of fun. A wake-up call, have it. They will be free again when the world ends!” 

Eijirou finally turned to his brother. “But the world will not end, because I cannot be killed.”

“So mother says.” And there was that shine in Rappa’s eyes again, the one Eijirou still couldn’t figure out.

It was then that Inasa bound forward. 

“Stop wasting arrows, Rappa!” Inasa yelled, grin wide. “Save them for the hunt!” 

“Already?” Rappa shielded his eyes to stare at the noonday sun. “I’ve wasted the morning already.”

“Are you coming, Eijirou?” Inasa asked, his own bow clutched in his hands.

“I think I’ll stay here.” Eijirou disliked the hunt and everything about it. The way the dogs were starved for weeks, the way the horses cried under the merciless pace, the way foxes suffered when they were eventually torn into. 

What was the enjoyment in an outcome that led to more suffering? 

“Fine, but mother will expect you at the feast!” Inasa gave one final wave before turning to lecture his older brother about breaking another bow. 

“Your brother has a point.”

Eijirou recognized the voice high in the trees, he shouldn’t have been so surprised.

“What point is that?” Eijirou asked, settling against the lush river bank, chunks of ice still floating on the top. 

Katsuki was perched on a low hanging branch, golden apple in his fingers, contemplative look on his face. “The old gods have gotten complacent. Humanity is racing ahead at breakneck speed, and yet here we are. Nothing better to do with our days than hunt and feast.”

“You could come to the earthly planes with me!” As far as he knew, most of the gods didn’t bother with the mortals. 

“I go plenty.” Katsuki scrunched his nose. 

“More than just to observe I mean.” Eijirou reached a hand up. Katsuki frowned at him for a moment before rolling his eyes and throwing the apple into his hands.

“What do I need to do with humans? So fragile. You blink and they’re dead.”

Eijirou just shook his head. “Come with me next time and see.” He bit into the apple in his hands, quickly spitting it out when he noticed the worm crawling out of it.

Katsuki’s harsh laugh rang into the afternoon sun. 

“Very funny,” but Eijirou was smiling, he carefully placed the apple near a leaf and watched as the small green worm inched off. 

“It must be exhausting being so damn good all the time.”

“Almost as exhausting as playing such cheap tricks.”

“For a god of joy, you’re awfully boring.” Katuski leaned back against the tree again, but Eijriou noticed the way his lips curved up.

It sent a flutter of warmth in his chest. He pressed his hand over the place where his heart beat and smiled again. 

What a beautiful, exhilarating feeling this one was. It was joy but better, more pure, like rain-drops pooling in a leaf after a storm.  Eijirou wanted to chase it.

“Why do you let them torment you like that?” Katsuki’s question was like one of Rappa’s arrows hitting him in the chest. 

“What else should I do?” Eijirou asked with a shrug. “They seem to have fun, and it does me no harm.”

Katsuki was looking at him, smile gone, eyes trailed to where Eijirou knew that arrow strike faded to a dull scar. Eijirou’s body was riddled with the white marks, he never thought much of it until now.

“He will be less beautiful with scars.” The goddess’ words filled his thoughts suddenly.

“It’s nothing,” Eijirou added, quickly covering his head with his hands before ducking back down. Something acrid filled his mouth, and he felt his cheeks flush.

“Nothing to be ashamed of.” Strong fingers tapped at his hand, but when Eijirou looked up, the blond god was gone. 

*

Humanity moved too fast for Eijirou. He spent all his waking hours walking the earth, determined to discover all the treasures it held.

The first time he heard music, he almost wept. He adored the sound of skin stretched over a hollow gourd, the rhythm matching his heartbeat. He sat by young shepherd boys as they coaxed beauty from strung-together dry reeds. There was nothing so perfect, though, as the first time he heard the lyre. Small fingers experimentally plucked at the stringed instrument and Eijirou was there.

He followed the sounds of the lyre as it traveled through the shepherd’s fields and onto the stone amphitheaters at the center of town. He found a seat in the very front row, and waited as the throngs settled around him.

Excitement waned for a moment as he watched a pair of teenage boys take their seats, their arms thrown around each other in a casual way. Laughter, too ebullient to be contained in their young bodies, poured out of them with each step.

Eijirou sat there, and for the first time felt lonely.

“Katsuki?” 

The word was a whisper, but between one blink and the next, the blond-haired god was seated next to him.

“How long is this going to be? There’s a far more interesting event happening at the Colosseum.” Katsuki sighed, in his hands appeared a small sack full of roasted nuts. Eijirou reached over to grab a few, but Katsuki angled his body away. “Get your own. I had to wait in line for this, can you believe that?”

“I believe nothing you say,” Eijirou laughed, joy once again singing through his veins. He liked the way Katsuki’s back was now pressed against his shoulder. Warmth lit along the points of contact. Eijirou reached an arm out, wrapping it around Katsuki’s waist.

The blond-haired god stiffened for a moment before relaxing against Eijirou with a small sigh. They remained that way through the concert and a little after, through twenty more sunrises and ten more performances. 

“What do you think happens if a string snaps?” Eijirou finally asked, his voice puffing against the nape of Katuki’s neck.

“They jump into the crowd and use the hair from the front row’s head.”

“No!” Eijirou clutched instinctively at his own red strands. “I like my hair!”

“Idiot!” Katsuki doubled over in laughter, hands clutching at Eijirou. And Eijirou liked the way Katsuki’s laughter was freer on the earthly planes, and the way his body relaxed against Eijirou.

He liked the curve of Katsuki’s jaw, and the way his mouth curled to the side when he was waiting for Eijirou to fall for another one of his tricks.

And Eijirou always fell.

He raised his hand to brush a strand of blond hair from Katsuki’s forehead, red eyes met his, both challenge and invitation. But before he could lean forward, a javelin flew into Eijirou’s side.

“Ten points!” Rappa yelled into the night sky.

“Brother, our parents have called a council,” Inasa called from where they both stood at the top of the amphitheater.

“How exciting,” Katsuki muttered, pushing away from Eijirou with a harsh shove.

“Eijirou, what have I told you about associating with weaker gods?” Rappa called, voice mocking as he readied another javelin. Its bronze tip shone deadly in the starlight.

“The hell did you say?” Katsuki stood up, fire already sparking at his fingertips.

“Poor little fire god,” Rappa laughed. “Once the humans learned your tricks, what use are you?”

A black sort of fog hovered at the edge of Eijirou’s vision.

“Enough,” Eijirou bellowed and the ground around him shook. All three gods turned to him, eyes wide. Eijirou kept his gaze on Rappa even as he angled his body, shielding Katsuki from view.

“Leave.” 

“ Tch ,” Rappa scowled, but Inasa wrapped a hand around his arm.

“We will see you at the council.” They disappeared in a rush of wind.

“Katsuki—” Eijirou turned around, but the blond-haired god was staring at something along the star line, a vicious look in his eyes that Eijirou couldn’t figure out. 

“I hate them,” he whispered.

And for once, Eijirou wished he could say he understood. 

*

Meetings of the god were rarely called, only in the direst of times. 

The old gods' faces were long as they stared around the seated table. Eijirou took his seat next to Inasa and was surprised when Katsuki took the spot on his left side. 

Before Eijirou could open his mouth, his father started to speak.

“The humans have stopped praying to us,” he announced with a slam of his fist on the table.

“I haven’t been sacrificed to in over a century,” another of the old gods grumbled. “It is not right.” 

And yet, humans for all their trials, were flourishing. They created art and science, studied the earth and the heavens, and asked questions that even Eijirou wanted to hear the answer to. He kept quiet though, watching as the older gods argued.

“They were better when they were thankful for the gifts that we provided them,” Eijirou’s father yelled. “We should remind them of who we are!” 

“I thought we weren’t to interfere in human affairs,” Eijirou finally asked. 

“We’ll you’ve been.” The god of the ocean scowled. “We saw how you quelled that seabeast with your words, distracting him from devouring the coastal town. I needed those sacrifices.”

“We won’t go down there ourselves,” the goddess of death sighed as she leaned her elbow on the stone table. Her fingers unfurled to reveal a small rat. “We shall just instigate change.” She breathed on the rat, and it paused for a moment before falling on her palm, writhing in agony. 

“Father!” Eijirou tried but the old god was already smiling at the goddess of death and nodding.

“We need to remind the humans how to fear again, then they will remember us.” 

The meeting lingered on, the gods airing their petty grievances, but Eijirou was out of his seat in seconds.

Eijirou hurried down to the human plane, following the path of the dying rat. He descended into the small village, as the first scream rang through the air. Followed by another and another. Soon, a chorus of pleading rang high into the night. 

When it became almost too much to bear, Eijirou blinked and there was silence.

A horrible creeping thing. Eijirou stood as the first carts appeared, piled high with bodies. He walked through the empty siheyuan , mind blank.

A note appeared in the gloom, and hope rushed through him. He tore through the rooms, following the plucked notes of the Yangqin . He finally threw open a screen to see Katsuki sitting, cross-legged, bamboo sticks in hand as he expertly struck at the strings. 

It felt like an eternity Katsuki played, Eijirou frozen to the doorway. 

He finally ended the piece with one long flourish. The bamboo sticks clattered to the floor as Katsuki looked up at Eijirou, an unnatural forlorn look on his face.

Eijirou wanted to erase it, he wanted to put joy back on Katsuki’s beautiful lips. So he closed the distance between them in a few elongated steps. 

Katsuki’s face was warm in his palms, and his mouth opened under his like a flower facing the sun. Eijirou found hope again in the fingers clenching tight around the back of his neck, clinging to him as their kiss deepened. Clothes fell aside like an afterthought, attention too focused on each other to notice that the world had ground to a stop. Hands on hips, mouths finding each others again and again, breaking apart only to whisper pleas of encouragement. They pulled each other undone as the ashes settled, and their final cries reignited the small flame that was the source of all mortal life. 

“Do you hate them now?” Katsuki asked, a little later when the first sounds of human voices stirred at the outskirts of the village. “The god who released disease, the humans who scrabble like rats that brought it, so quick to kill each other for a made-up cause?”

“No,” Eijirou answered, transfixed on the slope of Katsuki’s bare shoulder and the lopsided tilt of his lips. “Humanity will blossom again, I believe in them.” 

And when the humans didn’t move fast enough, Eijirou helped in small ways. Roads were cleared of rubble, bridges repaired overnight, allowing trade to resume. Invaders were suddenly plunged into darkness, forced to return from where they came. Ancient texts on drama and music were somehow unearthed in a small town along the coast. 

Eijirou followed one discourse on playwriting in particular, watching as it landed in the hands of a young poet. He followed the boy’s quick steps, encouraging him with whispers about a god with red eyes and an uncanny smile.

Eijirou was at the debut of his piece, the wooden seat barely containing his excitement.

“Sit down, you’re distracting me!” Katsuki’s hand snaked to Eijirou’s thigh, giving it a sharp squeeze.

Eijirou sat, but he kept his gaze on Katsuki’s face as the play began. It was a story of fairy monarchs and lost nobles and a wood spirit dressed as a donkey with red eyes. Tricks and traps set at every turn. And Katsuki’s laughter was Eijirou’s, and his joy was infectious. It spread through the seats, seeping from peasants all the way to nobles. Until the queen herself laughed as the fairy queen bestowed the ass with a loving kiss.

Fingers had found their way into his.

They walked on and on, stopping to watch as a young man stared through a metal tube, abject awe and wonder on his face. They waited until he had fallen asleep to steal a peek through the tube. It was blurry at first, but light started to coalesce into shapes.

“Is that a star?” Eijirou laughed. “It is! Katsuki, look!”

“Who cares, we can see every planet that ever existed,” Katsuki replied, but they stayed the rest of the night that way, taking turns tracing the gods' faces in the brilliant light.

And when the first rays of dawn reached beyond the horizon, Katsuki guided him to the tallest peak of the highest mountain. They lay there, melting the ice around them with the heat of their movement as the world sat at their feet. 

“Do you see, do you see ,” Eijirou said in between kisses, fingers entwined in silky blond hair. “All the beautiful things humans can do.” 

“I see,” eyes never leaving Eijirou’s face. “And you will be around to see it all.” There was something in his voice that made Eijirou pause.

“You will, too.” 

“Not if your brother has any say in it.” 

“What do you mean?” Eijirou sat up so he could see the expression flickering across Katsuki’s face.

“The humans are inspiring him,” Katsuki snorted. “He feels like, in order to strengthen the power of the gods, we have to eradicate the weak ones. I’m sure you’ve noticed how he views the god of tricks.”

“You are the god of fire!” Eijirou countered.

“And what use is fire when the humans have created explosions in their hands?”

“They are still too weak,” Eijirou frowned. He tried to avoid the war games his brother Rappa had begun to immerse himself in. He shook his head, turned to cradle Katsuki’s face in his hands. “And you are still powerful.”

“You might be the only one who thinks so.” Katsuki sighed, leaning his neck back so Eijirou could kiss the soft spot behind his ear. “Keep an eye on your brother.”

*

Katsuki’s words remained in Eijirou’s mind as the years melted, humans had begun to encroach on the beauty around them with each destructive invention. Eijirou watched, the first lines of worry forming on his face, as humans learned to harness bits of black rock. Towering buildings spitting steam like ancient dragons began to appear like weeds, choking out the natural life around it. There were fewer places for the god to find quiet now.

 He was walking across the beaches of the eastern seas, feet sliding through the soft sand, when a figure approached him.

“Mother!” As far as Eijirou knew, his mother hadn’t stepped foot in the human realm since the day it was created from chaos. “What are you doing here?”

“My children seem obsessed with this realm, I came to see why,” her nose crinkled in disgust as a crab scurried around her foot. “So far, I am unimpressed. Show me more.” 

So Eijirou showed her pyramids of stone in the desert, and a wall that extended miles in either direction, and a town nestled in the lush green mountains of the Southwest. 

“Look at these marvels, mother!” Eijirou pointed to the towering temple of foreign gods, columns bleached white in the hot sun. “All created by human hands and human minds.”

His mother stared on, eyes empty, lips pursed. 

Eijirou took her to plays performed for thousands, and museums that housed paintings of her very image, and musical performance that made Eijirou weep emotions he still couldn’t comprehend.

“Take me somewhere else,” was all she said. 

So Eijirou took her to the highest point of the tallest mountain. She sat in the same place Katsuki had, a sharp smile on her face as she reached her finger to the heavens.

“The humans are so close to us and yet so far.” She mused before turning back to Eijirou. “Thank you for showing me this world you spend your time in.”

Hope shone in his eyes as he turned to her. “You like it?”

“No,” she said, “but I do not belong here, and neither do you.” 

“What do you mean?” EIjirou said, pressure rising in his chest.

“Gods belong in the heavenly realm, where they can flourish. It may seem like you matter to the humans, but you will always be an outsider in this realm. Their memories are too short to remember all you’ve done for them,” she murmured, lips twisted as she melted the snow in her palm. “I’m hoping that when you learn, so will your eldest brother.” 

“Rappa?” 

“He spends his time playing these war games with the humans,” she said, voice prim as she adjusted the thick furs hanging around her shoulders. “He’s missed two hunts already, it’s unlike him.”

Eijirou weighed his words for a careful moment. “Katsuki is worried Rappa is plotting something.”

“A bold statement coming from a trickster.”

“Mother,” Eijirou sighed, but she held up her hand. 

“I only state what I know.” She tapped her finger against his lips. “You were not born to scurry around the human realm cavorting with lesser gods. You are immortal, and your father is getting tired. He will not be able to lead like he once used to.”

“You should be talking to my eldest brother, not me,” Eijirou said quietly, fingers tracing the jagged rocks. 

“Rappa is not fit to lead.”

Her words made Eijirou pause. “He will be expecting to take over for father.”

“He will,” she nodded. 

“So why me?”

“I told you already.” She raised her hand, and with it rose the sun. The first tendrils of light raced across the horizon. “You were born for glory.”

“But what if I don't want glory?” He flung his arms out, gesturing to the world just yawning awake at his feet. “What if I don’t want to lead? What if I want something different?” Katsuki’s thoughts echoed in his mind. 

His mother’s voice quickly snapped him back. “No, you are perfect as you are because I made you this way.” His mother’s eyes were wide and dark as she turned to him. “When you were born, I begged all the living things, the trees and the water, down to the very grains of sand that make up life to keep you safe.”

“Why?”

“Why did they agree?” His mother laughed, a bright, piercing thing. “Because you are beautiful, my son, and strong and perfectly made. And nothing can harm you now.”

“Truly, you asked every living thing?” Eijirou marveled, staring at his hands, safe because of the gift bestowed by the very earth itself. It made him love the human plane even more, and all the more desperate to remain on it.

“All but sulfur.” The goddess motioned her hand. “But it is a middling element, too slippery to grasp. It shouldn’t trouble you, no.” She let her fingernail press hard against the thin scar above Eijirou’s eye, the only one she’d ever given him. It shone red again before setting, thicker this time, like she was embedding her existence in his life. “You are my immortal son, and you always will be.” 

Something moved to Eijirou’s left, but his mother wouldn’t let go of his face in her hands.

“Your brother will lose interest in the humans in time but you, my son. You must come back to me. Take your place as leader and usher us into a new dawn.” And with that, she disappeared back into the realm of the gods. 

He sat there a moment, torn between the demand to follow her back to his home realm, and the desire pulling at his chest.

“Katsuki?” Eijirou called out and a flame sparked in his periphery. He followed the tiny fires back down the mountain until he found the blond-haired god standing at the base of a four-tiered waterfall. A tiger stood across the way, gently lapping at the water, ignorant of the god staring at him. 

“Nice chat with your mother?” Katsuki asked, tone acidic.

“How much did you overhear?” 

“Enough.” Katsuki turned to him, sneer on his face. “Readying her line of succession already? Did she find you a nice young consort yet? I hear the goddess of spring is expecting a child.”

“I don’t understand.” Eijirou took a step towards him, arms open.

“Of course you don’t,” Katsuki let out a harsh bark of laughter that sent birds scattering from the trees. “You’re the god of all things pure and good, right? Of course you don’t get it. What does an invincible god need with such stupid emotions?” Katuski shoved at his chest, hard enough to send his feet sliding into the water. 

“Katsuki,” Eijirou tried again, but the god was already walking away. Eijirou tried to chase after him, but Katsuki disappeared into a snap of smoke.

Eijirou found him a little later in the frozen parts of the north, arms thrown behind his head as he stared at the lights dancing across the sky.

Eijirou leaned over the god’s face, eyes closed in feigned sleep. “I’m jealous of you .”

Red eyes sprung open to meet him. “Why the hell would you be jealous of me?”

“You see things that I can’t,” Eijirou sighed, collapsing on the ground, letting the snow cushion his fall. “There are still so many emotions I can’t figure out. I feel like I am always one step behind. It never bothered me before, but all these lies and turns. I don’t know who to trust.” He turned to look at Katsuki, eyes unreadable. “I can trust you, right?”

And instead of answering, Katsuki turned in one smooth movement, tugging off their clothes with brisk fingers. He straddled Eijirou’s waist, and traced the faded lines of every scar with his lips.

*

Eijirou wasn’t sure what to think when Katsuki didn’t show up at the opera premiere, the one that Katsuki helped write, whispering tales of power hungry gods and gold rings in the composer's ear. So Eijirou watched alone, a sense of foreboding growing in his chest as the tragic stories of his family and world unfolded before him.

He remained, long after the curtain closed, unsure of the empty feeling in his chest. It was the silence, he finally decided. All the bits of time taken up by Katsuki’s voice, his sardonic laugh, his dry remarks, his words whispered soft enough for only the night to hear.

Eijirou missed them. 

And so he walked. Through the ruins of the Colosseum, to the deserts filled with lions, to the small flame in the heart of a waterfall that had been burning since the dawn of time. 

“Katsuki?” he whispered to the fire. Silence greeted him with soft chirps of birds in the trees. All the places Katsuki usually hid, and still Eijirou couldn’t find him. 

“Katsuki,” he shouted his name atop the highest waterfall.

He walked and walked, listening to the breezes, but they too were eerily silent. Like they were holding their breath, waiting.

Another war was raging in the human realm, but Eijirou couldn’t find it in himself to interfere. He watched, a cold quiet in his chest as the humans rolled out machines packed with tiny bullets, meant to kill indiscriminately.

He should cause them all to misfire, he should imbue peaceful thoughts into the humans’ unconscious, telling them to put their weapons down. But he remained frozen, the tight feeling in his chest squeezing harder and harder as the hours dragged on without sign of the blond-haired god.

It was Inasa who found him like that, eyes wide and glazed, murmuring Katsuki’s name.

“Brother.”

There was a strange look on Inasa’s face. It was an emotion Eijirou didn’t recognize and it made him sit up.

“What happened?”

“I tried to stop him but…you must see.” Inasa finally said as he turned. Eijirou followed, over cragged mountain paths, up and up, until they crossed the bridge of knit-together rainbows, and stumbled down the snowy tundra of the wastelands. The same place Eijirou was mauled by a bear, all those centuries ago. 

A few of the gods had gathered, a tense murmuring echoing through the frozen silence.

“Eijirou!” Rappa’s voice rang out victorious. “You’re welcome, brother!”

The group of gods parted, gaze flickering from Eijirou to a giant tree that rose high into the night sky. 

One of its longest branches extended towards the horizon before breaking off at the tip. It hung vertically down, bark flaked off as it wrapped around bare feet and—

“Ah,” the breath froze in Eijirou’s chest as his eyes traveled over rough-hewn pants, and a muscular torso he had spent many sunrises pressed tightly against, strong arms now hanging limp. Full, slack lips, and high cheeks devoid of any color, all the way to red eyes that stared at him, wide and sightless.

“I caught a traitor for you. Look at this strange weapon he was working on,” Rappa said, words barely piercing that void in Eijirou’s mind. He waved something in the air for all the gods to see.

“I told you to watch out for that trickster god.”

The words swam around Eijirou like gnats. He kept his gaze on Katsuki’s empty eyes before turning to his eldest brother.

An emotion like no other filled him, burning through his chest like fire, pushing him forward. Between one blink and the next, his fist slammed into Rappa. The god flew back, landing into the compact earth. Eijirou gave him no time to get up. He straddled his brother, sending fist after first pummeling into his face. The earth shook around him, sending up walls of snow that prevented the other gods from interfering. 

“Brother!” Rappa tried to shield his face with his hands, but Eijirou didn’t give him time to breathe. His fists were soon covered in golden blood, Rappa’s face disappeared under a mess of open cuts, but still, Eijirou didn’t relent. 

It was an all consuming thing, the emotion bubbling in his chest, slowly eating away at the joy in Eijirou’s body until there was nothing left of it. It felt like years he was falling, letting the burning in his chest spread and engulf him, until he was nothing but fire.

Gone was Katsuki’s voice, and his laughter, his eyes that shone brilliant every time they met Eijirou’s. Rappa had stolen that from him. 

“I hate you.” 

Eijirou’s next punch ripped through the very fabric of space. The ground crumbled underneath them, swallowing the tree, and sending Rappa hurtling into the human realm. Eijirou didn’t pause as he jumped after him.

Rappa slammed to earth in the middle of a sea of humans, the impact creating a crater on the ground, sending bodies flying. 

Explosions burst across Eijirou’s vision, and he almost lost sight of his brother as a soldier slammed into him. Two more fell at his feet as another explosion flashed through the skies. It was impossible to see anything in the haze, the sounds of screams ringing in his head. 

“Rappa!” Eijirou howled, ground shaking as he turned. 

“Brother!” Rappa’s response rang through the afternoon sky, black with smoke. 

Eijirou turned to see Rappa standing on a mountain of bodies, face upturned to the sun. 

“You were right about one thing,” he laughed, face barely visible underneath the blood. “Humans are better than us at killing at least. Give them weapons and they cull themselves. We should follow their example.”

“You’ve gone mad,” Eijirou struggled with the sudden realization, voice a  whisper. His own rage smoldered into something else as he watched the humans around him. “This isn’t it, this isn’t the way.”

“Death and rebirth are always the way, it is you who is the aberration,” Rappa yelled. “Do you know what your little Katsuki told me when I stole this gun from him?”

“Shut up.” Eijirou closed the distance in the blink of an eye. “Don’t you dare mention his name.” Eijirou sent another fist flying, but Rappa dodged, buoyed by the violent slaughter around him. 

“He said this weapon with sulfur bullets was the only thing that could kill you! Is that true?” Rappa waved the object in his hand, it was black, simple in shape, a handle and a long snout. His face was a mask of madness. “Nothing is supposed to be able to kill you!”

Eijirou stared at it, mind fracturing. Katsuki overhearing his mother. Katsuki’s jealousy. Katsuki kissing him til he couldn’t breathe.   “He shouldn’t have known…. He wouldn’t—”

“Betray you, brother? Plot to kill you?” Rappa howled a laugh. “He did! And gladly! He was with you to learn your secrets, and he turned on you the second he found them. A trickster to the end.” 

“You’re lying .” Eijrou raised his fist again, but a movement flashed at his side.

A sound pierced through the haze, a single word sung with the lilting cadence the god of all things pure and good had come to associate with joy. “Eijirou.”

“Katsuki?” And for a split second, Eijirou looked up. Red eyes met his. He didn’t notice the movement across from him. Rappa raised the black gun in his hand, and curled his finger.

Noise burst out, stealing the breath from him, and for the first time in his existence, Eijirou felt pain.

*

Eijirou blinked and when he opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by absolute darkness.

“Katsuki?” he whispered.

“Eijirou,” the response was a soft sigh. 

Eijirou reached out, but his fingers gripped on nothing. “Where are we?”

“ You’re in Midnight.” 

“And where are you?” Eijirou turned, but still nothing.

“The earthly planes, of course. They’re burning.”

“I thought you were dead,” Eijirou whispered. Lifeless red eyes flashed in front of his eyes. His voice hardened. “Another trick.”

“Your brother’s hatred for me was real, as was his hatred of you. It consumed him. I just had to let him steal my gun, thinking he had a modicum of power, and he used it. Gods are like humans in that way. They see what they want to see.”

“Was he telling the truth, though?” Eijirou asked.

“What is truth, Eijirou?” Katsuki whispered, voice uncharacteristically small. “The reality is, I was the first of many he would have killed if you hadn’t stopped him. He would have destroyed the human realm you love so much with his hubris.”

“I trusted you.”

“It wasn’t about you. It was bigger than even us. The time of the gods needed to end.”

“And you had to be the one to change it, of course.” Eijirou sighed. “What is happening now?”

“The same thing that always happens.” An image of a serpent eating its tails circled in front of Eijirou’s eyes. The ghostly shape that was carved on his shield. “We start again. The circle continues, but different. Brand new. A chance for something else. Tabula rasa .” 

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Eijirou asked. He should have known. Katsuki would play games until the earth rained down with fire.

“I wanted more for myself, Eijirou. I wanted more for you, too,” Katsuki said, familiar mockery in his voice. “Or did you want to spend your life as a painted target for the gods' sick enjoyment, feared by the very humans you fought so hard to protect? You had nothing.”

“I had you,” Eijirou finally said.

Silence greeted him, so long and oppressive, that Eijirou almost thought Katsuki had left.

“And you always will.” A feather-light kiss brushed across his lips. “Although we will spend this cycle of rebirth on the mortal plane, that was our punishment. Yours, mine, and your two eldest brothers who should have known better, or so the old gods said. Your mother is raging.”

“Mortal?”  

“You learned to hate,” Katsuki’s voice was like fire, fierce and low. “How did it feel?”

“It felt like nothing, like emptiness. Like I’d never smile again in my life.” Eijirou answered. “I don’t ever want to feel that way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” 

And a ghost of a laugh brushed against Eijirou’s face.

“I want to be reborn as someone more powerful,” Katsuki whispered like a prayer.

“But you will still be you,” Eijirou countered. “You will still be angry and fierce and tricky. You will have to learn how to be good, Katsuki. You will have to heal that hate inside you, or nothing will truly change.”

“I changed,” Katsuki said, fingers brushing against Eijirou’s cheek. “You changed me.”

“Not enough, it seems,” but Eijirou’s sigh felt more like a laugh. “I suppose I’ll have to chase you down in this next life, too.”

“Who knows if you’ll even like me.”

“I love you, Katsuki. I will always love you, in this world and in the next, and every rebirth after that.” Eijirou captured ghostly fingers in his, pressing a delicate kiss to each tip. “I may be the god of joy, but you are joy to me.” 

Lips pressed against his, begging for a forgiveness that Katsuki would never verbalize and Eijirou would never request.

“Until we meet again.” 

And Eijirou blinked. 

*

He walked up the steps, a nervous bounce to his movements. His hands went automatically to the red hair he dyed to help him feel invincible. The entrance exam had been easier than he thought, or maybe he was stronger than he used to be, braver.

He clenched his fist, watching his impenetrable quirk ripple over his skin. A finger found the small scar above his eye, the one he’d been born with. He’d never get a single scar again, he swore it, that’s how strong he would be. “I’ll be the strongest hero, ever !”

Excitement gave him that last push, and he was about to enter the building when a boy shoved past him.

“Move, extra.”

Their eyes met, crimson and red, and it was as if all of time unwound and rewound, coalescing in a single heartbeat.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, face already heating, warmth pooling in his stomach.

“You should be,” the boy responded as he shuffled the toes of his combat boots, red tipping his ears. “Heard what you were fucking muttering. Get it in your head, Shitty Hair, I’m going to be the strongest hero. Stronger than All Might, I'm going to be a god .”

“Then I guess we’ll have to fight for the title,” and he found himself smiling as he held out his hand. “I’m Kirishima Eijirou.”

The blond-haired boy scoffed for a moment before holding out his own. “Bakugou Katsuki.”

And Eijirou felt joy spark in his chest.