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Unlike … basically everyone else your age, you’d known exactly who your soulmate was since you were seven years old. All those years ago, before you ever manifested your luck-based quirk, you met a snarky, overconfident little boy on the playground that said the very words that were scribbled across your ribs on your left side, “Gimme your truck!”
To which you answered with the words on his side, “You could at least say please!”
You remembered clearly how the pair of you stopped and stared at each other while your little bodies filled with warmth. You remembered that just as clearly how both of you shouted, “Ew!” in childish disgust of the opposite gender and ran away home right after.
The years passed in that dizzyingly fast/slow that they tended to do. You ran into each other again and again all during that expanse of time. At first, when you saw each other, you’d just run in opposite directions–especially once he started having his little posse follow him everywhere he went. Once you reached an age where you better understood what it meant to have a soulmate–right around the era you ended up in the same class–you finally talked it out.
The short of it was that neither you nor your explosive soulmate–who you now knew as Bakugo Katsuki–were interested in each other at all. Like every other kid your age, you each wanted to go to UA, and you both viewed the other as competition. Plus, as you informed him in no uncertain terms, boys were gross, especially ones whose quirks ran on sweat.
Then you got into UA, and suddenly boys were on the table as objects of interest between your classmates. Uraraka, especially, gabbed about them in your shared free time. Sometimes, she’d grouse about their stupidity or to brainstorm about what she should do about her growing crush on Deku. Sometimes, you all bitched about the resident peeping tom. Other times–thankfully more rare in frequency–the topic of soulmates came up.
No one else in your year had found theirs, if they had one at all.
When anyone asked you, you lied and said you were one of the few unlucky souls that didn’t have a perfect match. Once, when it was the entire class gossiping on the subject, you managed to keep a decently straight face. “A little unluckiness to balance out your Luck quirk,” you claimed. All while trying not to glance at your put-upon soulmate and give yourself away. That day, when the focus turned to someone else, you glanced at him.
His expression wasn’t as angry as it usually tended to be. In fact, he nodded at you just the slightest bit. You thought it must have been as close to a “thanks” as you would ever get out of him.
All of that didn’t stop the fear you felt when you were separated from Bakugo at the USJ incident. The entire time, you were completely in the dark about his fate with an uncontrollable spike of pure terror lodged behind your ribs. You pretended you didn’t notice the knowing looks Tsu threw your way when no one else was watching.
And it certainly didn’t stop the anger you felt seeing him chained and muzzled at the sports festival. How dare they treat a student like that? You told yourself you’d have felt the same for anyone, not just the boy that somehow managed to grow on you despite … everything.
The night after was when Tsu found you alone on a park bench not far from the school. Wordlessly, she hopped up next to you and waited for you to speak when you were ready.
“How long have you known?” you asked several minutes later.
“A while. Ribbit,” she said simply. “How long have you?”
“… A while … How screwed am I?”
“I don’t think you are. He cares about you, too. Ribbit.”
“I doubt that.”
“That’s okay.”