Chapter Text
James Howlett was six years old when he first asked about the letters on his wrist.
He was sitting beside his mother in the garden, legs swinging from the bench as she read aloud from a book. The afternoon sun was warm, and James had long since stopped listening to the story.
Instead, he was staring at the dark letters on the inside of his wrist.
K.S.
They had always been there. Almost everyone had letters. James knew that much. But he didn't know what they meant.
"Mother?"
Elizabeth looked up from her book. "Yes, James?"
He held up his wrist. "What do these mean?"
"Your soulmate mark?"
He nodded. Elizabeth set her book aside and gently took his hand. "Those are your soulmate's initials."
James blinked. "My what?"
"Your soulmate." She smiled. "The person you're meant to spend your life with."
James stared down at the letters. "K.S.?"
"Mm-hm."
"What does that stand for?"
Elizabeth laughed softly. "We don't know."
"Who does?"
"Well, your soulmate probably does."
James considered this carefully. Somewhere out there was a person named K.S. A real person. Not just letters. A real person who was apparently very important.
"Will I meet them someday?"
"I hope so."
"What if I don't?"
"You will."
"How do you know?"
Elizabeth gently brushed a lock of hair from his face. "Because the world has a way of bringing soulmates together."
James looked back at the letters.
K.S.
He liked how they looked. Strong letters. Important letters. His soulmate's letters.
A grin spread across his face. "I'm gonna marry them."
Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, are you?"
"Yep."
"And what if they don't want to marry you?"
James looked horrified. "Why wouldn't they?"
His mother laughed harder. "I suppose that's a fair point."
James nodded firmly. He already loved K.S. At least a little. After all, they were his soulmate.
The next week, James informed the household staff that he was going on a quest. Nobody was particularly surprised. James went on quests at least twice a week.
This one was different, though. This time, he carried a wooden stick sword.
"My soulmate has been captured by a dragon," he announced.
The gardener looked up from his work. "Oh no."
"It's okay," James assured him. "I'm rescuing them."
" How very brave of you."
"I know. I am very brave." He charged across the lawn and attacked the rose bush dragon.
"Have no fear, K.S.!" he shouted.
A maid walking past nearly dropped her basket, trying not to laugh.
"I'll save you!"
The dragon was defeated shortly thereafter. James stood over its remains, breathing heavily. "You're safe now."
Satisfied, he returned inside for lunch.
Over the years, James came up with hundreds of possibilities.
Katherine Smith.
Kenneth Scott.
Kingsley Stewart.
Kevin Shaw.
Kassidy Samson.
Every time he met a new person, he wondered. Could that be them? Could that be K.S.?
His soulmate. The person waiting somewhere out in the world.
Sometimes he imagined they lived in a castle. Sometimes they were a prince. Sometimes they were a princess. Sometimes they were a knight.
Once he decided they were probably a pirate. That theory lasted almost three weeks.
By the time James was ten, he had become very serious about protecting his soulmate, even if he hadn't met them yet.
One snowy evening, he sat beside the fireplace while his mother worked on her embroidery.
"Mother?"
"Yes, James?"
"If somebody tried to hurt my soulmate..." James frowned. "I wouldn't let them."
"No?"
"No."
He looked down at the letters on his wrist.
K.S.
"I'd protect them."
His mother's smile became sad in a way James didn't understand at the time. "That's very noble."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
James traced the letters with one finger. "They'll never have to be scared."
"So when I find them…” He paused. "When I find them, I'll take care of them forever."
Elizabeth leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "I think they'll be very lucky to have you."
James smiled. Maybe. But he thought he would be the lucky one. After all, somewhere out there was K.S., and someday, somehow, he was going to find them.
The facility was quiet.
No screaming. No scientists poking at him. No missions.
Just the low hum of fluorescent lights and the distant drip of water somewhere down the hall.
Logan sat on the edge of his bunk, forearms resting on his knees. His gaze was fixed on the inside of his wrist.
K.S.
The letters looked exactly the same as they had when he was a boy. Still permanent. Still mocking him.
A soulmate mark was supposed to lead you to someone. That was the whole point. Yet somehow, he'd spent over a century without finding K.S.
He rubbed his thumb across the letters. The skin was smooth beneath his touch.
"You know that's not gonna magically turn into a map if you stare at it long enough."
Logan growled. "Go away, Creed."
Victor Creed was standing in the doorway of the room. He'd apparently been watching Logan for several moments.
"Still obsessing over that thing?" he asked.
Logan ignored him.
"Thought you'd have given up by now."
Logan's jaw tightened. "Didn’t ask for your thoughts."
"No, seriously. How old are you now?"
Logan didn't answer.
"A hundred? Hell if I know."
"What's your point?"
"My point is normal people find their soulmate and live fifty years together." Creed gestured broadly. "We ain't normal people."
Logan looked back at his wrist.
K.S.
When he was a kid, he'd imagined a future. Meeting them, falling in love, growing old together. He'd imagined introducing them to his mother, building a home, having a life.
Back then, forever had sounded romantic. Now, forever just felt lonely.
"You really think they're still out there, Jimmy?"
Logan didn't answer. Because that was the question, wasn't it? The one he'd spent decades trying not to think about.
Maybe K.S. had been born and died before Logan ever got the chance to meet them.
Maybe they'd spent their whole life waiting for him.
Maybe they'd married someone else.
Maybe they'd given up.
The thought left a familiar ache in his chest.
Creed laughed quietly. "That's what I thought."
Logan clenched his fist. "They could be."
"They could be dead." Creed shrugged. "Most likely are."
Logan looked away. The worst part was that Victor wasn't entirely wrong. They were immortal. Or close enough. Time passed differently for them. For everyone else, time moved forward. For Logan and Creed, it just... accumulated.
"You missed your chance, Jimmy."
The words landed harder than Logan wanted to admit.
Because some nights he wondered if it was true.
Maybe somewhere, decades ago, he'd passed right by K.S.
Maybe he'd sat beside them on a train.
Maybe he’d walked past them in a city.
Maybe he’d fought beside them in a war.
Maybe he'd looked directly at them and never known.
Because he hadn't known what face to look for.
Only two letters.
K.S.
Two stupid letters he'd carried for more than a century.
“You’re just jealous you’re unmarked,” Logan grumbled.
Creed growled, crossed the room, stopped beside Logan, and glanced down at the soulmate mark. "You know what your problem is?"
Logan didn't respond.
"You still believe in fairy tales." Creed tapped Logan’s wrist with a claw. "You got a soulmate."
Tap.
"Destiny."
Tap.
"True love."
Logan shoved his hand away.
"Touch me again and lose the hand."
Creed laughed.
"I'm serious."
Creed's grin widened. "Jimmy, we're monsters." Creed's yellow eyes gleamed under the fluorescent lights. "Weapons." His voice dropped lower. "Nobody's waiting for monsters like us."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Logan stared at the letters on his wrist.
K.S.
He remembered being six years old. Remembered sitting in the garden with his mother. Remembered charging across the lawn with a wooden sword.
Have no fear, K.S. I'll save you!
The memory felt painfully distant. Like it belonged to someone else.
A little boy who still believed the world was good.
A little boy who thought soulmates were guaranteed.
A little boy who thought finding them was inevitable.
Creed headed for the door. "You wanna know what I think?"
Logan already regretted asking. "What?"
Creed smirked. "I think your soulmate found somebody else."
The door slid shut behind him. Silence filled the room again.
Logan sat there for a long time.
Eventually, he looked back down at his wrist.
K.S.
He traced the letters one last time.
Maybe Creed was right.
Maybe he'd missed his chance.
Maybe K.S. had lived an entire life without him.
Maybe they'd loved someone else.
Maybe they were gone.
But despite everything, Logan couldn't quite let go of the hope.
Somewhere out there, K.S. had existed. Maybe they still did.
And if they were still alive...
If there was even the smallest chance...
Logan hoped they were happy.
Even if they were never his.