Chapter Text
Izuku grimaced as his sentinel laid down a strike against his head. He slumped after the hit, desperately holding in the tears that threatened to well in his eyes.
”Get up, Guide. Don’t make yourself even more useless. I need to train.”
“Yes, sir.”
The reply came automatically. Like a robot responding to a coded command.
Because that was all he was here.
Sentinels made up around 50% of the population, while their necessary token Guides only made up around 20%. Which meant they were worked twice, if not triple, as hard. Izuku had even heard stories of guides being put in charge of a group of sentinels (up to 10 at a time) and overworked until they literally dropped from exhaustion. No agency would push a guide to the point of death. That wasn’t worth the expenditure, paperwork, or the loss of an already minimal list of guides. They were a required part of the equation, after all, there was no sense in killing them off.
They were treated as product or tools. Useful until they broke or couldn’t do their intended job, and then discarded in the trash or left to rust away in a drawer.
Izuku, the guide, was just a means to an end for so many sentinels he had worked with. His high skill level and ranking was at a threshold that meant he could help just about anyone. Some were more difficult than others, of course.
They never cared if he was exhausted, or hungry, or dehydrated. They never cared if he was sick and couldn’t work. To sentinels, he was just a tool in their arsenal. He was an unfortunate but necessary part of the puzzle.
Never mind the fact that he got migraines from pulling the reckless bastards out of zones. Never mind the way his stomach curled in on itself when he went entire days with only a big meal at the beginning or end of them. Never mind the way storms made his scars and wounds ache up. Never mind the times when he needed his prosthetic leg worked on.
He was nothing more than a drone with a skillset that happened to be useful to them. Izuku had learned early on that his worth as a person came through what he could provide to others. If he couldn’t do his duties, he was as good as a broken clock left to dust over on a shelf.
It was so twisted but he didn’t fight the status quo. There was no point when the sentinels he worked with would just beat him until he complied.
”We work until I say I’m done, got it?”
Go numb, go numb, go numb. Don’t react.
Izuku bowed his head and forced himself up onto shaking legs. “Yes, sir.”
Comply, be silent, do your job. That was the only way for him to get through his days without incident.
Just once he wanted to be seen as something more than his role in society. He wanted to be seen as a person first.
But with each year of his life that passed in the service of aggressive and uncaring sentinels, Izuku learned to accept that kind of future as an impossibility.
Maybe in another life, he’d tell himself while dissociating away from the pain of wrought by those around him.
Sometimes he wished his mother had tried harder to hide his status. Maybe if she had, he could have hidden amongst those without any designation to their name. He could have been a nameless face in the crowd, not burdened by constant calls to action. He could have lived with his mother until the end of her days, not taken from a young age and molded into the perfect aid to sentinels. Maybe he could have lived a long and healthy life, and not be faced with the concept that he’d die young from the constant stress and overworking he faced on a daily basis.
But the truth had come out and he’d been taken into a guide school at the ripe age of eight. His job, his designation, his role, had been all he’d known since.
It was the harsh reality for all of his kin. Guides were there to render aid for zoning sentinels. That was it. That was the extent of their purpose in life.
What a fucking tragedy it was.
If he still had the courage to stand up to the system, Izuku might have been one of the ones revolting and trying to gain rights and protections for guides. Yet he was made a captive by his high rank; forever destined to be in service to the highest ranked sentinels.
Izuku never let himself linger on the sordid truth for too long. There was no sense spiraling into further depression when he needed the mental faculties to do his job.
So he steeled himself and watched with that same helpless sense of inevitability as the stupid sentinel knocked himself into a zone while trying to master a powered ability that was far too advanced for his skillset.
Izuku reacted in kind and placed a couple of fingers on the man’s shoulder and entered the zonescape to drag him out of it.
With an irritated huff, the sentinel tried again to little avail.
He knew they’d be at this all day with nothing but exhaustion to show for it. But there was nothing to be done.
For Izuku, the guide, was just there to be of service. That was all.
The head of the institute prattered on about some kind of statistic or other, uncaring or unknowing that more than half of his audience was zoned out.
Katsuki tried hard to pay attention but he couldn't get past how it was stupid that sentinels had to be present for finance related meetings. They were there to be the muscle and power, not accounting and business. But he was one of their golden children, so they held him at a more intentional level than most.
Sometimes they’d even ask for his opinion on shit he didn’t feel qualified to weigh in on. Katsuki hated meetings like that. He'd much rather endure an all day training session than listen to this aimless prattle.
Katsuki kept himself facing forward but decided to stretch some of his cooped up senses.
As an top ranked sentinel, he had many abilities those of the average variety didn't. For one, he had excellent control of his senses. He had trained long and hard in his youth to be able to operate the 'dials' of his senses on his own. Zones were dangerous when being on the frontlines, so it was a great strength to be able to control such a thing.
It also meant that he was less high maintenance because of his self managing abilities. Which the Institute liked… a lot.
Eijirou, his last guide, had dropped into a guide crash almost three weeks ago. No replacement had been forthcoming until recently.
They had expected him to be self sufficient until another had been found.
Katsuki had learned not to disobey one of their set expectations. The Institute was kind to sentinels, but even their kindnesses had limitations. He was well past his boundary testing days.
When they had first told Katsuki that they had found a new guide for him that held a higher matchup level than any other he had ever worked with, at a whopping 99%, he had been skeptical.
The last couple of guides they had found for him had led to relative disaster. But that was part of the risks when dealing with imperfect pairs. Every guide that had agreed to work with him had known the risks.
Katsuki still felt bad that their incompatibility had led to them being hospitalized, however. Eijirou and Denki had both been excellent guides but each of them had only held an 80% match with him. All it had taken was a bad zone on his part for them to lose the uphill battle and wind up in a guide crash. This happened often during improper matchups as a side effect of one party being too powerful. In their case, his guide’s mind was unable to keep up with the input from his own, which had led to an overload on the guide’s part; and, if severe enough, that could lead to death.
Every sentinel or guide in existence had an ideal matchup with their opposite. Which, in the terms of numerical values was a 97% match or higher.
He had never experienced working with a guide that had anything higher than an 89% match with him. To suddenly be faced with someone who was almost his perfect match was overwhelming to say the least.
Izuku, quiet and unambiguous as he was, held eyes that were full of sharp witted observational skills.
Katsuki had been able to tell that the man was visually dissecting just about everything in eyesight from the moment he saw him.
The file he had been given beforehand had described Izuku as reserved, intelligent, soft spoken, intuitive, and agile. He had gotten high marks in combat training, earned certifications in a large array of weaponry, held several medical certifications and was highly trained in first aid, and he had broken records with his guiding abilities.
The only faults noted on his file were that of his prosthetic leg being a physical hindrance (fucking rude of them to word it like that honestly), his prosthetic finger tended to break more than it functioned (fucking upgrade it then??), and he had a poor diet (which they had probably caused).
Katsuki had been a bit impressed to say the least. It was rare to find a guide so highly regarded. The fact that there was an entire file singing Izuku’s praises meant that every word of it was true. They wouldn’t waste time writing recommendations if he was a half assed guide.
And then he had gotten to lay eyes on the man and had felt absolutely enchanted.
Izuku was unassuming with his lithe figure but there was an unstated power to his muscles that spoke of a high level of fitness. His hair was emerald green with matching eyes that sparkled like the goddamn night sky. There was a smattering of freckles dotting all over face, a higher concentration of them going along his cheeks and nose.
Katsuki immediately felt like he was in trouble because this was someone he could find himself appreciating their visual appeal.
He knew from that very moment that he’d have to fight to keep himself in check. Izuku hadn’t chosen to be here anymore than he had chosen to be one of the leading sentinels of the institute.
He couldn’t allow himself to get comfy with that kind of enforced service.
The day Izuku had arrived at the institute, the Director had called him in for a face to face meeting. Katsuki had been a bit nervous but complied with ease.
It was that same initial meeting that had set the tone for a cordial and playful arrangement. Despite the formal words they had shared, Katsuki could just make out a flicker of amusement in those striking eyes that had him intrigued to learn more about his new guide.
Izuku was new and interesting. He was guarded and quiet. He was rigid but there was a hidden openness in his eyes.
Some of the contradictions Katsuki could spot were enough to spark his interest.
This matchup was sure to be a fascinating one.
“Bakugou, this is your new guide,” the Director announced in that familiar cheery tone. “He will be accompanying you on any future missions. Please take some time to familiarize yourself with one another while I take this call.”
Director Nedzu stepped off to the side and gave a pleasant greeting to someone on his phone.
Katsuki’s gaze flickered to his new guide. This was always the hardest part. Being judged from the guide’s previous experiences with sentinels was always rough. “Uhh, nice to meet you I guess. Got a name?”
“Izuku,” the man had replied in a soft voice. “Nice to meet you too.”
Yeah, he kind of doubted that.
”I know your assignment wasn’t really your choice but I appreciate you being here anyways,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his buzzed undercut. “The desk-heads get so caught up in the logistics that they forget to treat guides with proper respect. So if you ever need me to yell at anyone, just tell me. They won’t say shit to me.”
That had been the first offer he extended to Denki and Eijirou, too. He hoped that such a genuine assurance would be his first real show that he wasn’t whatever monster they had worked with previously.
Katsuki was proud to be a sentinel, but there were so many that gave the designation a bad name. He hated that shit.
A curious expression flickered on Izuku’s face. “It’s… unexpected to be in the service of a sentinel that cares so much. Though I appreciate it. I will keep that in mind.”
He hated the implications behind such a statement. Katsuki knew that guides were often given the shit end of the stick, but it always hurt hearing that confirmed from the ones he worked with.
They deserved just as much consideration as was given to sentinels. Their continued existence was the only way for sentinels to experience a life out of a zone. Especially those with high power levels like Katsuki himself.
Guides help the whole system work. There was no fucking sense in treating them poorly.
Knowing that it was a continual problem put a bad taste in Katsuki’s mouth. He’d knock people’s skulls together if he thought it would help. Alas, there was no guarantee even that kind of thing would get his point across.
”Do you have a preferred name or title I use when addressing you?” Izuku asked after a moment. “Sentinel? Bakugou? ..Sir?”
Katsuki blanched. What the fuck kind of arrangement had this poor soul experienced for that kind of question?
“Okay, gross first of all,” he was quick to say. “Second of all, just Katsuki is fine. My previous two guides called me Kat or Kats, so that’s fine too.”
The guide adopted that peculiar expression again. He tilted his head in silent consideration before a small smile crept onto his lips. “Katsuki, then.”
Just the simple use of his name was enough to send a chill down his spine, a fact that Katsuki would take to the grave. It was a logical response when met with his almost perfect match. (Or so he told himself.)
Nedzu approached again shortly after that. “Alright, pardon my intrusion. Midoriya, I have sent you an email with information about your living quarters. We’re glad to have someone with your level of skill working amongst us.”
The smile Izuku offered the Director was so fake that it almost hurt to look at.
”An honor to be under your capable hands, Director Nedzu.”
Katsuki eyed him, slightly concerned by the sudden appearance of such a blatant social mask.
Izuku met his gaze for a passing second but said nothing.
”I’ll be on my way to get settled. Until next we meet, Katsuki.”
He had watched the guide go from his spot beside the meeting table. Something very interesting had already taken root in his chest. He wondered how this new partnership would pan out.