Chapter Text
The battlefield was a fucking mess, smoke billowing from goddamn ruins, bodies scattered like fucking confetti, and flags torn to shreds as if they were cheap fabric. Lying in the middle of it all, was his tattered body, coughing up blood he just lay there hoping that the battle was won.
His chest felt like it had been blasted open by a fucking cannonball, and every breath was a struggle against the pain that threatened to consume him. He looked down at his hand stained with blood, and coughed again, the metallic taste of iron filling his mouth.
His head was spinning, he could barely remember where he was or what happened with his soldiers but amidst the chaos, there was one fucking thing that remained clear in his mind - memories of his best friend, Kirishima. He smiled fondly, happy that his last thoughts were filled with sunshine and red.
That red-headed son of a bitch was part dragon, and together they'd flown through the skies, tearing shit up like there was no tomorrow. Eijirou was with him in health and in sickness, when he had nothing and all. They were a inseparable duo, it was such a shame that they couldn't be together in his final moments.
"Im sorry Bakugo..."
Then again, it's not as if the redhead would be in "his" final moments. Dragons weren't immortal but they sure as hell had way more lifespan than an average human like him.
"Dragons live forever..."
Technically, they couldn't die unless harmed and it was a fucking odyssey to even scratch a dragon. He laughed a little, coughing more blood, remembering how his best friend tended to jump from high buildings like it was nothing, his scales protecting him from any harm. He wondered if Kirishima were here, would he be in this bloody predicament.
"It wouldn't be fair to string you along..."
God, how he wished to see those red happy eyes again.
"And I'm still waiting..."
Now, as he lay dying on the battlefield, he couldn't help but remember the last time they saw each other, when Kirishima had rejected him, felt like a punch to the fucking gut. For once he hoped he would be chosen, at the very least by his best friend, he was so fucking sure he felt the same way.
"For my dragon mate..."
He was adamant that he had a dragon mate, waiting somewhere in the world, that Bakugou couldn't possibly be his one since he was human.
Fuck.
He didn't want to remember the face full of pity of his dragon, he wanted to remember red eyes and orange skies. He wanted to listen to that strong laugh.
His eyes began to fill with tears. Would Kirishima cry for him? Shit, would he even come to his burial? Since the rejection, they parted ways, all his letters left unanswered. Would he remember him once the redhead became a full-grown dragon?
He remembered how much he wanted to be as big as a mountain, how much he wanted to hatch eggs and settle down on big lands, something they both dreamed of. Would he tell his children about him? No, he wouldn't torture himself in his final moments with the what if's. Despite the pain, despite the betrayal, the memories of their adventures together still burned bright in his mind, and that's what he's going to keep till the very end.
So as he fucking slipped away into darkness, the king raised a middle finger to the world, grateful for the goddamn chaos they'd caused together, even if it cost him everything in the end. Kirishima might have been a stubborn bastard, but he was his stubborn bastard, and no amount of pain could fucking erase that.
He felt tired, his eyes closing slowly, when he heard a scream.
"Bakugou!"
And then, it all went black.
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Six months had passed since the last time they had seen each other. Both had parted ways when the war began a year ago. Knowing that their strength was needed on different fronts, they had forged agreements with other kingdoms to aid in the battle against the League of Villains. These discussions often left them in compromising positions, as there were moments when his lord disagreed with the strategies proposed by other leaders.
"They shouldn't use their soldiers as mere ammunition like bunch of fucking cowards. If they want to engage in this war, let them be the ones to step onto the battlefield," his king used to grumble. "What kind of king hides in his big ass castle while his people risk their lives for their freedom?"
At the time, those courageous words had stirred his heart with emotion. Like usual, his king showed his bravery, his manliness; and even though he didn't always say it, he demostrated worry about the fate of his comrades, his subjects refugees of war. Yet, what he couldn't have forseen was that, that same speech would lead to his lord to be placed at the forefront of the battle alongside the strongest fighters.
Kirishima, being a dragon shifter, found himself arranged for other fights aswell, separating them for the time being.
The last time they saw each other, they had a fight, he constantly thought about the seething anger he had felt, the blazing fury in his king's eyes, and the insults they exchanged, words that couldn't be easily erased. Nevertheless, he knew that time could calm even the fiercest storm.
Day and night, he thought about his king. After a month of silence, Kirishima began sending letters to him whenever he could. Mind you, they were at war, so when he received no response, he didn't take it personally. He understood he had a demanding and tough job, being a general in the vanguard.
But, after three months without news, concern crept in. Was it possible that his king was so upset with him that he wouldn't even show a sign of life? Was this a petty revenge to punish him for his words?
Mina, one of the last remaining dragon shifters they met through their journey, explained that communication during wartime was difficult. She suggested that his lord might prefer to talk and make amends in person. Nonetheless, this same reason was why Kirishima believed that communication between them was crucial. This war would be their last, and Eijirou didn't wish for a fight to be their final interaction.
Just as he was about to fly to the last known location of his king, Mina arrived with a letter bearing his king's seal.
He couldn't contain his joy.
It was a short but heartfelt response, essentially stating that his messages would be limited to avoid revealing their location to the enemy. He had been hurt in battle, it didn't said how badly, however, his lord promised that as soon as an opportunity arose, he would send a letter to his dragon, his red, Kirishima. The letter also held a pledge that once the war was over, regardless of the outcome, they would reunite in the Kingdom of Yuei, ruled by their ally Todoroki Shouto.
And here he was, six months later, at the gates of the realm, searching for his beloved king. The uncertainty of their reunion weighed heavily on him.
As Kirishima stood in place, his heart heavy with anticipation and longing. He didn't know how they would react upon seeing each other. Should he hug his king? Would that be too uncomfortable?
Oh, how he yearned to scent him, to guard him in his wings and take him far away to his nest, to his hoard. But where was Bakugou? Sure, it had been three days since the war finished, but his king should already be here. Maybe he was in another inn? Maybe he went directly towards Todoroki? No, that couldn't be, his king hated interacting with other people. He chuckled, he could see his king sneering at Todoroki, how he missed his grumpy face.
One thing he was sure of, once he finally got to see his human, he would tell him the truth. How wrong he was, how he didn't want a dragon mate, how he wanted him and only him, even if their time together would be short-lived, it was better than a life without knowing his hugs, his kisses.
The war was a wake-up call, humans were so fragile, their lives shortened by various amount of things, not only injuries, but famine and sickness. He had a taste of almost losing his king when he had a sickness back in the northern lands. He was too naive to realize his Katsuki could have almost died, but now, seeing the dead bodies of his comrades, he wasn't going to take a chance.
He wanted everything with Katsuki, he could already see it. Both of them living in the mountains, his king making a home out of their nest, carrying their eggs, waking up in the same bed, sometimes dancing, sometimes sparring, eating their tasty food.
He imagined themselves tending their garden, his human loved taking care of plants, he said there was somethig badass of making things flourish out of nothing.They would eat their crops, maybe put a swing on the trees, playing with their children, putting his hands on his waist while trying to fetch each other.
It was a future he longed for with every fiber of his being.
As he traversed through the vast kingdom with determination in his heart, Kirishima looked out for his Katsuki.
He questioned the locals, describing the beautiful blond man with a sneer so bethtaking that you could fall in love with it, but no one had any idea of who he was.
Seeking help from the witch Momo Yaoyorozu to be his interpreter -he didn't know the local language- Kirishima pressed on, hoping to finally find where Katsuki was.
He asked the bakers, the smiths, questioned guards, locals, but received only apprehensive looks and grimaces in response. Eventually, they found a young girl who, with some translations, seemed to recognize the description of his Bakugou.
Oh, she knew...
"Could you show me where you saw him?" Kirishima asked through Momo's translation. With some hesitation, the girl nodded, and they set off towards his king. He was finally going to see him.
As the girl led the way, he was restless, wanting the kid to go faster, but knew that wasn't polite, so they walked.
So many streets, so many people, no wonder he couldn't find him.
The girl slowed her pace, they were almost there. His heart raced with excitement; he was about to see Katsuki after months, his beath hitched, smile uncontainable.
She pointed at the square, and there, in the middle of it all, was him. Spikey hair, cape flowing, a sword in the air, face stone cold quite literally. "Him" wasn't him; "him" was a statue in the middle of the square.
He laughed at the confusion of the little girl.
"No, silly human, I'm talking about the living Bakugou Katsuki," he chuckled. "King Explosion Murder? Lord of Death?"
"Kirishima," said Momo. The kid was looking at him curiously, then she pointed at the statue again.
"No, no, he has spiky hair, almost like mine," he mimicked an explosion on his head. "Although his is blond, and soft, and smells like oranges and honey," he laughed. The kid pointed again at the statue.
"Kirishima..."
His smile was wiped out of his face once he saw the statue before him. "And he is attractive, his eyes are sharp and red, and he has a slim build, nothing at all like this... this thing. Momo, translate for me please"
He heard a sniff behind him, when he turned around he saw the witch with tears in her eyes.
"Momo? Why are you crying?"
"Oh Kirishima... I'm so sorry."
Kirishima stood there as his heart sank at the realization. His king was riding a horse, although he never even owned one, the horse was rearing, both front legs in the air.
Bakugou had explained to him the meaning of the horses in statues. The hoofs holding a symbolism.
Just below the statue read a legend that Momo translated.
"In loving memory of the hero Dynamight. His bravery shall forever be remembered in the heart of our town. Let us remember his valor, his strength, and his unwavering spirit. The king with no kingdom protected the whole world. May your journey to the heavens be swift and may you feast with the kind spirits of your land. A tribute to the indomitable spirit that will forever burn bright in our hearts."
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"What are we even looking for?" he yawned, leaning on the shopping cart.
He felt bored and unrested, having a rough night filled with nightmares, all his body ached. Today wasn't a great start of the day; it had been 12 centuries, but that painful memory still clung at him as if it were just yesterday.
How he craved for a cigarette.
"Oh, come on Kiri! Aren't you excited? " Mina chimed in, her short pink hair a mess. She didn't care much about her appearence; people tended to stare regardless. It wasn't everyday you came across someone with honey colored eyes and black sclera, she only bothered to hide her pinkish skin with a spell. "It's been years since we've done the shopping ourselves, and look!" She continued, pointing at a cat tower. "Look at this thingy. Why do people buy this stuff? They can't even get inside."
It was one of those rare occasions that they went to the supermarket. Usually, they had others do it for them, since they had other pressing responsabilities.
It was hard to be the leader of many mistycal creatures after all. But today, Mina's energy was contagious, pulling them out of their usual routine. Kirishima suspected it was her way of helping him forget about what this day meant.
"That's for cats, Mina" he said with a chuckle, his gaze shifting to the display of chewing bones on the other side of the aisle. Memories flooded back to him -the days when he used to hunt alongside 'his king', soaring through the forest and sharing countless adventures.
Their first kill, a boar, flashed vividly in his mind. He rememered bringing down the beast with the help of his lord, sharing the meat, Eijirou chewing the bones, the feeling of freedom.
He longed for those days when it was just them against the world.
"But why would cats want to be inside these things?" she asked, her smile fading as she observed her friend's distant expression. Kirishima seemed lost in thought, still dwelling on that particular memory. "Hey, Kiri," she called to get his attention making him snap out of it.
"Let's buy some bread," Mina suggested.
The mention of bread stirred another fond memory for the man. No matter how much time had passed, the food remained the same, he didn't have to hunt for his meal nor prepare it, he didn't have to think of 'him' while eating it.
They went through the bread section, each selecting pastries their friends would like – donuts for Kaminari, blueberry muffins for Shinsou, cupcakes for Sero, and so on.
All these offerings from the alpha of their inner nest.
Just as Mina was choosing cinnamon rolls for Midoriya and Todoroki, Kirishima reached for the melon bread. It had been a long time since he'd eaten one, almost as long a he hadn't visited the supermarket, which was years, perhaps even decades. He hadn't had a chance to savor one by the comfort of his den, next to the fireplace. The alpha saw himself enjoying some hot cocoa; he had a sweet tooth and wouldn't mind savoring those flavors, especially with the cold weather of mid-autumn approaching.
The leaves were falling from the trees, the chill suggesting that snow is coming soon, reminding him that he needed to cast warmth spells over their nest if they wanted to protect their crops and people from the cold. He also had to start thinking about the winter festival, deciding who is invited and who is not, those people from the west wing had been acting suspiciously, if he wanted to avoid chaos in his castle, he'd need to be selective, maybe if he checked out the armery, he could come up with some creative ways to—
No, he chided himself. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about work; he was supposed to relax. Mina had made an effort to bring him here and distract him from... from that day.
He looked at the melon bread on display, contemplating whether he deserved to have it or not.
In his peripheral vision, he noticed someone approaching him. For some reason, the proximity of this stranger to his food gave him an adrenaline rush, prompting him to grab one of the loaves.
Unfortunately, the other person had the same idea.
Warm, gloved hands reached for the bread, inadvertently clashing with his big, scarred hand in the process. The human hand flinched slightly, and he finally looked at the person beside him.
It was a young man, probably around 23 or 24 years old, wearing a green bomber jacket and earmuffs. His blond hair was flattened under a woolen hat, freckles scattered across his face.
The man blushed furiously, and in the past, Kirishima might have thought to bed him since blonds were his type. But today, something felt different, he didn't have the energy to work his charm.
"Hello," the blond man said softly, his eyes narrowing flirtatiously.
"This bread is mine," was Kirishima's only response as he flashed his spiked teeth.
"Oops, another rejected, Kirishima?" Mina teased from the other side.
The human, put off by the alpha's unique teeth, huffed in offense and went the other way. Kirishima watched him go, a wistful expression crossing his face. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about blond men leaving, but fate seemed to be playing a cruel jokes at his expense today.
He took a deep breath, trying to refocus only on the bread and its taste. However, a sweet scent caught his attention. It wasn't sweet like pastries or cakes; it was different, more... burnt, like the camping trips with 'his king.' In fact, it reminded him a lot of his master – oranges, caramel. He kept inhaling deeply, his eyes closing as he breathed it in,savoring the scent – a hint of cinnamon. The aroma began to fade, and he couldn't let it slip away. He had to find out what it was and buy it, whether it was a candle or perfume. He needed it right now.
"Hey, where are you going, Kiri? Your hair—" Min didn't finish her sentence as Kirishia hurried after the smell, which was now going away rapidly. Maybe it was a free sample or some dessert.
He inhaled even more strongly, his chest expanding dramatically.
Close, he was close.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the shampoo section but he knew the scent didn't come from any of those bottles. In front of him he sawthe side of a man with spiky, sandy-blond hair, a sharp bright red eye deep in thought, seemingly unaware of Kirishima's presence.
The man scowled and put down the bottle, it looked like he was leaving the aisle, he had to do something to stop him. So holding his wrist, the stranger turned his attention to the alpha, revealing a scarred face on his side. The man looked at him, obviously surprised. Kirishima had to say something before he left.
This man, he had to be.
"W-wait," he stuttered. "Do you live around here? What's your name? Do you want to go on a date?"
The man looked at him incredulously, his scowl deepening. He tried to pull his wrist away, but Kirishima didn't want to let him go, so he placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait, my name is..." He didn't get to finish his sentence as he felt a stinging sensation on his cheek. The stranger had slapped him across the face. The blond man must have a strong arm, it sent a sharp twinge of pain through his cheek.
The only human that could make him feel pain was-
"Kiri! Are you okay?" Mina's voice came from behind him. He touched the side of his face while smiling, trying to savor this feeling, the only kind of pain today that didn't leave him feeling empty.
His friend grabbed his face, assessing the damage. A dark look crossed her face.
"Do you want me to take care of him?" she asked, her devious smile filling her face. She had a protective nature as his second-in-command. "No one rejects you or punches you."
Kirishima gently removed her hands. He considered putting on his mirage and quietly follow the stranger to gather more information about him. But just as he was about to do so, he noticed that the scent trail was gone, as if the man had never been there.
"I can make it look like an accident," Mina continued. "That human can't walk away unharmed. He doesn't know who you are."
Was he even human? Normally, a regular person would leave a smell behind, but there wasn't even a trace to follow. It was as if he didn't exist. Kirishima couldn't help but wonder, who was this guy?
Or, maybe he was seeing things? No, Mina just talked about the guy, he also had his red cheek, the only memory the misterious blond left him.
Memorys of blond hair and red eyes.