Chapter Text
“Midoriya comes back from his honeymoon tomorrow,” Kirishima said casually, leaning against the agency desk.
“Really. That’s great.” Katsuki didn’t look up.
Kirishima blinked.
He tried again. “Yeah. Heard he and Uraraka went somewhere tropical. Dude actually unplugged from hero work. Wild, right?”
“Really. That’s great.”
Same tone. Same autopilot. Like someone had replaced Bakugo Katsuki with a cardboard stand-in labeled: Insert Reaction Here.
Kirishima’s smile faded a little. “And Sato finally opened that bakery he’s been talking about.”
“Really. That’s great.”
That did it.
Kirishima stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You okay, man?”
Katsuki finally looked at him. His eyes weren’t sharp. They were distant. Like he was already halfway somewhere else.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re… I don’t know. You’re not you.” Kirishima scratched the back of his neck. “You’ve been zoning out mid-fight. You leave right after patrol. You don’t answer texts. And now you’re taking sleeping pills? That’s not normal for you.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Since when did you become my doctor?”
“Since you started acting like a ghost.”
There it was.
Something flickered across Katsuki’s face. Annoyance. Defensiveness. A hint of something softer that he crushed immediately.
“Could you take care of the report?” Katsuki cut in. “We took down that villain together. So just include me in anything you write and I think it’ll be OK.”
Kirishima stared at him. Years ago, Bakugo would have written the entire thing himself, both of their reports because he didn’t trust anyone else to get it right.
Now he was walking away before Kirishima could answer.
“Katsuki-”
But he was already gone. The door closed behind him.
***
Katsuki when arrived home. He immediately hoes kicked off, discarded his hero costume on the floor and Got into his pajamas.
No dinner. No shower. Straight to bed. Like the day was nothing more than a waiting room.
He closed his eyes almost impatiently and the world tilted.
***
He woke in Shoto’s room. Relief flooded him so fast it made him dizzy.
He sat up immediately and checked himself. Pajamas again. Soft and familiar fabric.
He moved to the door and slipped into the hallway, careful now. He knew better.
He stayed close to pillars, ducked behind tapestries when servants passed. Being visible here still felt wrong, like stepping into a painting and leaving fingerprints.
Voices drifted from down the corridor.
Two maids.
“…Don’t you think we should do something?” one whispered, her voice trembling. “He’s going to kill him.”
The other gasped. “Are you crazy? If we interfere the King will burn us alive.”
“But we can’t just watch this. The prince deserves better.” The first maid’s voice broke. “All because he refused to marry the princess of the eastern kingdom, the king chained him in the dungeon like a dog.”
Katsuki’s stomach dropped.
Kill him.
Refused to marry.
The words hit like punches. He didn’t wait to hear more. He moved, rushing down staircase after staircase, deeper into the palace belly.
Luckily no one was there to see him. It didn’t matter if they did Katsuki was seeing red. He would defeat anyone right now even without his quirk.
The air grew colder, thicker. The music from the celebration above felt grotesque now.
Laughter over a dungeon. He reached iron doors.
One stood slightly ajar. Katsuki looked inside and saw chains and…
…Blood.
Shoto lay crumpled on the floor, wrists shackled to the wall. His left eye swollen shut. Dried crimson streaked down his face. Bruises bloomed across pale skin like violent constellations.
Katsuki’s breath left him. Everything inside him went quiet.
He crossed the room in three strides and dropped to his knees. His hands hovered before finally settling carefully on Shoto’s shoulders.
“Shoto,” he said, voice tight. “Oi. Wake up.”
He shook the prince repeatedly until he heard a slow inhale. Shoto’s one visible eye opened, unfocused at first. Then it found him.
“Katsuki.” A faint, broken smile. “Am I dreaming again?”
The question nearly shattered the pro hero.
“No,” Katsuki said immediately.
There was an ax propped against the wall.
He didn’t think. He grabbed it and swung at the chains. Once. Twice. The metal rang, then split.
He caught Shoto as he sagged forward.
“We’re leaving,” Katsuki said, already pulling him up. “We’re getting your things and we’re running.”
Shoto leaned against him, weak but steady in spirit. “You’re very decisive.”
“Yeah. That’s what you like about me.”
Shoto released a faint breath that might have been a laugh. They slipped into the corridor.
Katsuki kept Shoto’s arm around his shoulders, moving fast but quiet. The palace above still roared with music. No one expected rebellion to crawl up from below.
They reached Shoto’s chambers.
Katsuki moved like he’d rehearsed this a hundred times. Cloak, Boots, satchel. Anything he could grab.
Shoto watched him, something soft in his gaze despite the bruises. “You look angry,” Shoto murmured.
“I am.”
Shoto was quiet at that. They stepped onto the balcony. Katsuki made a rope of Shoto’s curtains and bedsheets.
Torches flickered below in the courtyard. Diplomats laughed. Somewhere inside that light was a king who believed obedience could be beaten into love.
Katsuki climbed down first, then helped Shoto descend carefully. They landed in the western garden. The camellias glowed faintly in the dark. Frost-defying. Soft and stubborn.
“Can you run?” Katsuki asked.
Shoto straightened as much as he could. “If it’s with you.”
“Good.”
They made it halfway to the servants’ gate before shouts erupted behind them. The dungeon had been discovered.
They hastened their movements in response. The gate was locked. Katsuki didn’t hesitate. He raised the ax and brought it down hard.
Wood splintered but not enough. He quickly raised the axe again.
Behind them, voices grew louder.
“Katsuki,” Shoto breathed, worried for Katsuki rather than himself.
“Stay behind me.” Katsuki reassured as he did one more swing. The gate cracked open but it wasn’t big enough and the guards were getting closer. He could hear their footsteps.
He did it without thinking he aimed his palms at the gate and to his surprise. He exploded it off its hinges.
“Katsuki is that your quirk? Amazing!” Shoto gawked.
“As much as I love your praises. We don’t have time let’s go.” Katsuki grabbed Shoto’s hand and they ran.
***
The air got colder the further they got from the palace. Shoto’s steps grew slower.
Blood still seeped faintly through bandages Katsuki had tied in haste.
“We need shelter,” Katsuki muttered.
They walked until the trees thinned. A small house sat tucked against the woods. Smoke curled from its chimney.
A ray of hope.
Katsuki knocked. An older woman answered, eyes sharp. She looked at them once.
“No,” she said immediately, trying to shut the door.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched. Shoto stepped forward weakly and lifted the gem at his neck. It caught the moonlight, flashing unmistakably royal.
The woman froze at its beauty. When recognition dawned. Her expression changed instantly. “Come in. Quickly.”
The warmth enveloped them immediately.
She gave them hot water, cloths, bandages. Led them to a small spare room with a narrow bed and thick quilts.
Katsuki exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours. Hero training settled over him like armor.
He rest the prince on the small bed and began carefully cleaning the wounds. Slow and methodical. Gentle despite the tremor in his hands.
“Talk to me,” Katsuki said quietly. “Stay awake.”
“You’re so beautiful.” Shoto obliged immediately. “I’m so lucky.”
Katsuki scoffed. “You’re half dead.”
“Yes,” Shoto agreed calmly. “And still… a star descended from the heavens to be with me.”
Katsuki focused hard on wrapping the bandage around his ribs. “You’re such a sap.”
“I am.”
“You should be mad or scared.”
“I am neither,” Shoto said. His fingers drifted into Katsuki’s hair gently. “I have never been more certain of anything.”
Katsuki tied the last knot and leaned back slightly. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Only because you are.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, but his face betrayed him, softening. When he finished, he climbed onto the bed beside him without asking permission.
He laid his head against Shoto’s chest and listened. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat filled the quiet room.
Still here. Warm beneath his cheek. The heartbeat was starting to lull him to sleep.
No.
He stiffened. He would not wake up. He would not leave.
Shoto’s hand rested lightly in his hair. “You should rest,” Shoto murmured.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You won’t disappear.”
Katsuki didn’t answer. He stared at the wall, forcing his eyes open. He’ll stay awake. He’ll stay here.
Shoto needs him.
Outside, snow began to fall softly against the window.
*****
Morning arrived gently. No loud clock ticks. No city noise. No Kirishima pounding on his door.
Katsuki blinked at a wooden beam above him, sunlight filtering through frost-kissed glass.
He was still here.
For a long moment he didn’t move.
He felt… heavier. Like he was anchored to this world. Like gravity had signed paperwork and decided he belonged.
Does that mean I can’t leave?
The thought flickered, sharp and uncertain.
He turned his head. Shoto slept beside him, breathing slow and even, lashes resting softly against pale skin no longer marred by fresh blood. The bandages were clean. His chest rose and fell beneath Katsuki’s cheek.
Alive.
That was enough.
Katsuki shoved the spiraling questions into a mental drawer and slammed it shut. He slipped out of bed carefully and padded into the small living room.
The woman who had taken them in looked up from the hearth. Her expression was… warm now.
“Good morning,” she said, pouring tea into a clay cup. “You worked hard last night.”
Katsuki shrugged. “He did more than me.”
She gave him the cup anyway. “Your… friend. He is important.”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the pouch at his belt. “There is a medicine vendor in the lower market. Ask for the frostroot elixir. It mends broken flesh quickly. But…” She hesitated. “It is costly.”
“How costly?”
“Two gold coins.”
Katsuki rummaged through the bag he took from the palace and took out one of the two small pouches. He opened it and showed her.
“THAT’S ATLEAST ONE HUNDRED GOLD COINS!” She screamed in disbelief.
Katsuki mentally patted himself on the back for grabbing the pouch during their escape.
“I’ll go,” he said.
She handed him a small map, pointing to a marked square. “Be careful. News travels quickly.”
“I’m not exactly subtle,” he replied.
“That much is clear.”
***
The market bustled like a living organism. Color, noise, spice-scented air. Vendors shouted. Children darted between stalls.
Katsuki pulled his hood low and approached the apothecary tent.
“I need frostroot elixir,” he said plainly.
The vendor, an older man with a crooked smile, barked out a laugh. “And I need a crown. That’s royal stock, boy. Two gold coins.”
Katsuki laughed right back. “That’s it?”
The vendor blinked. Katsuki dropped two gleaming coins onto the counter without hesitation.
The laughter stopped immediately. The bottle changed hands.
“Pleasure doing business,” the vendor said, suddenly very respectful.
Katsuki left before he could say more.
***
He didn’t realize how tense he’d been until he pushed open the cottage door again.
Shoto was sitting up in bed, pale but awake.
Katsuki crossed the room and handed him the bottle.
“Drink.”
Shoto obeyed without question. The effect was almost immediate. Color returned to his cheeks. Bruises faded like ink dropped in water. The swelling around his eye vanished. Within minutes, he looked… whole.
Katsuki stared and then he grinned.
This world is strange but he needs to get used to it.
Shoto flexed his fingers, testing strength. “Remarkable.”
“Yeah. That’s what happens when you listen to me.”
Shoto looked at him like he was something luminous.
Katsuki felt something wild and protective unfurl in his chest. He has so much planned. He doesn’t know the laws here or the politics but it doesn’t matter.
He’ll build a house if he has to. He’ll carve a life out of the forest and if that king even breathes in their direction-
Katsuki’s hands sparked faintly at the thought. He’d tear that palace down stone by stone.
“I bought these,” he said instead, tossing a cloak and a simple mask toward Shoto. “There’s a fair in the capital today. Not far.”
Shoto tilted his head slightly. “A fair?”
“Food. Games. Music. Normal stuff. You need normal stuff.”
Shoto didn’t hesitate. “I would like that.”
Katsuki smirked. “Thought so.”
They dressed quickly. Cloaks up. Masks secured. Shoto walked without faltering.
Side by side, they stepped into the winter morning.
The capital came into view over the rise of a hill. Banners streamed in the cold breeze. Laughter carried through the air. The scent of roasted sugar and spiced meat drifted toward them. Color everywhere.
Katsuki glanced at Shoto. No bruises and no chains. Only a man seeing his world without a crown’s weight crushing his shoulders.
“This,” Katsuki muttered quietly, almost to himself, “is just the start.”
Shoto’s gloved hand brushed his. “I know.”
****
The fair was chaos in the best possible way.
Music tangled in the air. Sugar and smoke curled together. Children shrieked in delight as paper lanterns bobbed like captured suns overhead.
Katsuki had never imagined in his entire life that he would be standing in a snowy clearing, hand extended, cautiously petting a living, breathing Pegasus.
Its wings shimmered ivory in the winter light. Feathers soft as cloud. Warm breath puffed against his palm.
“…It’s real,” he muttered.
Behind his mask, Shoto laughed. “You look astonished.”
“I am not astonished.”
“You are petting it like it might explode.”
“It has wings,” Katsuki shot back. “Isn’t that crazy?”
The Pegasus nudged his shoulder affectionately. Shoto’s laughter grew brighter.
They wandered from stall to stall after that.
Spiced skewers. Honey cakes dusted with powdered frostberries. A fried pastry stuffed with molten cheese that made Shoto’s eyes widen slightly behind his mask.
“You like that?” Katsuki asked, watching him take another careful bite.
Shoto nodded. “Very much.”
“You’re a foodie.”
“A what?”
“Someone who falls in love with food.”
Shoto considered this seriously. “That seems accurate.”
Katsuki found it unbearably cute. They played games. Katsuki won a small carved wooden fox by blasting a target with perfectly controlled sparks from his palm.
The crowd gasped. Shoto looked proud.
For a few hours, they were just two masked strangers at a winter fair.
it was absolutely the best time of the prince’s life until they reached the fortune teller.
Katsuki almost dragged Shoto past the tent out of reflex. In his world, these people thrived on vague nonsense and dramatic lighting.
“I used to love exposing these frauds,” he muttered.
Shoto tilted his head. “Exposing?”
“Never mind.” They stepped inside.
The woman within was older. Silver hair braided down her back. Her eyes, sharp and unsettling, flicked to them once. She didn’t ask for their hands. She didn’t ask for names. She looked straight at Shoto.
“You have a duty to fulfill, your majesty.”
Both of them went still. They were masked.
No one had recognized them all day.
Shoto swallowed quietly.
She continued. “Your brother lives. He wants vengeance against your father. He intends to burn the kingdom to ash. That includes us. His people. You must defeat him.”
The air thickened. Shoto’s gloved hand tightened slightly in Katsuki’s.
The woman’s gaze shifted. “As for you… his wish come true.”
Katsuki’s stomach dropped.
“You cannot stay here. Your spirit and soul have crossed, yes. But your body remains elsewhere. It cannot survive without its essence. If you stay, you will die.”
Silence swallowed the tent. The prince and pro hero stayed locked in place for a very long time. They tried to pay before they left, but she refused.
The fair’s noise felt distant now, mute and warped.
At the exit, Shoto stopped. “I forgot something,” he said gently.
Katsuki nodded, barely hearing him. He stood alone for a moment.
So this is… real.
Not a dream.
Not madness.
A crossing.
If he stays…. He already knew.
Shoto returned quickly and took Katsuki’s hand. “Come with me.”
Katsuki obeyed with no hesitation. They walked deep into the forest. Snow muffled their steps. The noise of the fair vanished behind them. The more they walked the more familiar the surroundings became to Katsuki.
Eventually, they reached an old stone well, half-swallowed by ivy and frost.
Shoto turned to him. “I asked her more questions.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened.
“She told me hearts aligned strongly enough can meet. Across time. Across worlds.” His voice wavered slightly. “She told me why you came.”
Katsuki said nothing.
“There was a star,” Shoto continued softly. “I used to look for it every night. When I was lonely. When I was afraid. It felt like a friend. And one night… I wished it would come down and stay with me.”
His breath hitched.
“The next day, you were here.”
Tears welled in Katsuki’s eyes before he could stop them because he knew what this was…. a goodbye.
“My star,” Shoto whispered. “I am so sorry I pulled you from the heavens. I made you see pain and fear that were never yours.”
Katsuki’s voice cracked. “Don’t. Don’t do this. We don’t know she’s right.” Katsuki said despite the fact he knew she was.
They both knew.
Shoto smiled sadly. Every time Katsuki tried to argue, Shoto silenced him with a kiss.
Gentle, loving and lingering. Full of everything he couldn’t say aloud.
Tears streamed down both their faces, warm against winter air.
“She said this well repairs dimensional flaws,” Shoto whispered against his lips. “You do not belong to this world. It will send you back.”
Katsuki shook his head violently. “No.”
“I don’t want you to die,” Shoto said, voice breaking. “Even if it means losing you. If you died here, I would not survive it. That is how much life you give me. I cannot steal you from your parents. From your friends.”
He cupped Katsuki’s face gently. “You are too important.”
Katsuki grabbed his wrists. “I don’t care.”
“I do.” Shoto kissed his forehead softly.
Gratefully and before Katsuki could brace himself-
He was pushed.
The cold swallowed him whole. For a split second there was nothing. Then…
Katsuki woke up screaming in his bed. To the sound of his annoyingly loud clock.
His world.
Tears soaked his pillow. His hands were empty but his heart…
His heart had never felt so divided.
***
Katsuki laid back on his bed with renewed purpose. He knows what he’ll do now. He’ll go back and destroy the well and scold Shoto.
The only problem sleep refused him.
He tried counting breaths. He tried replaying the sound of Shoto’s heartbeat in his mind.
He tried everything except admitting the truth.When dawn crept in, he was still awake.
He bought stronger sleeping pills. If crossing worlds required sleep, then he would sleep. He swallowed two dry and collapsed into bed.
Darkness came fast. Heavy. Blank. He woke to afternoon light and nothing else.
He dreamt of nothing. No forest, no palace and his reward a cottony skull and a body that felt hollowed out. He tried again more pills.
Still nothing. Day blurred into day. He didn’t eat. Didn’t answer calls. He just tried again more pills
Three days passed like sand through numb fingers.
He sat on the edge of his bed, shaking.
“I need to go back,” he whispered hoarsely. “He needs me.” The words looped.
He reached for the pill bottle again. It was almost empty. He mentally prayed that the last few would work. The door burst open.
“Kacchan!” Midoriya stood there, spare key still in his hand, horror already blooming across his face. Kirishima was right behind him.
The friends were horrified by the state of Katsuki: Red eyes glassy. Skin pale. Hands trembling. He looks like he lost weight too.
“I need to go back,” he repeated, voice breaking. “He needs me.”
“Who needs you, Kacchan?” Midoriya asked carefully, stepping closer like approaching a wounded animal.
“He needs me.”
Kirishima’s throat tightened. “Man…”
Katsuki swayed. Midoriya caught him before he hit the floor. The ambulance came in a blur of sirens and fluorescent lights.
The next thing Katsuki saw was IV fluids and monitors. Then heard Questions:
“How long has he been like this?”
“Has he expressed delusions before?”
“What does he mean by ‘going back’?”
Katsuki stared at the ceiling. He didn’t answer. How could he explain a prince. A star. They would call it stress, burnout or ….psychosis.
They wouldn’t understand that somewhere else, under a different sky, someone might be looking up at a star-shaped absence.
He was released two days later.
He didn’t try again. Not because he didn’t want to because he knew the well sent him back, it was final.
And he couldn’t brute force destiny with pharmaceuticals. So he folded that world up carefully and placed it somewhere deep inside himself.
He emailed the author of the book. The one that had started all of this. They met at a quiet coffee shop tucked between buildings and ordinary life.
She was younger than he expected and had bright observant eyes. When he told her everything, she didn’t laugh. She didn’t doubt. She listened.
“My family has a quirk,” she said thoughtfully. “We can see… sideways. Across dimensions. Across timelines. None of our stories are truly fiction.”
Katsuki’s hands tightened around his cup “So it’s real.”
She nodded once. “But I don’t know how to send someone back,” she admitted gently. “If your hearts aligned enough to meet once, that was… rare.”
He looked down.
“I am planning a second volume,” she added. “You might be able to… keep up with him that way.”
Keep up. Like reading the weather report of someone else’s sky. He nodded stiffly. It was something. He returned to patrol.
To reports. To explosions that didn’t crack reality. He smiled when expected. Snapped when expected. He functioned.
But happiness felt like a language he used to speak fluently and now barely remembered.
Eventually, Kirishima cornered him. “You’re coming out with us.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Midoriya backed him up with the kind of stubborn optimism that could move mountains.
So he went. He wasn’t looking where he was going when they reached the bar.
He pushed the door open and collided with someone stepping out.
“I’m sorry,” the stranger said first.
Katsuki had to tilt his head up slightly.
The voice-
His heart stopped. Red eyes met dual-colored ones.
Gray and blue.
Hair shorter than he remembered. Still split white and red down the middle. He had no scar circling the left eye but…
Katsuki’s body moved before his brain caught up. He grabbed the stranger and pulled him into a fierce, desperate hug.
Kirishima choked. “Bro! I’m so sorry, he’s going through something”
Midoriya was already trying to pry Katsuki off gently. “Kacchan-”
The stranger laughed. Warm, bright and so very familiar.
“It’s fine. You’re red riot and Deku. That means this is dynamite,” he said easily. “Being hugged by a beautiful pro hero? Probably the best thing that’s happened to me all year.”
He hugged Katsuki back without hesitation.
“My name is Sho-”
“Shoto,” Katsuki breathed, voice cracking.
The man blinked. “I am Shoto.”
Silence detonated around them. Kirishima and Midoriya froze mid-motion. Katsuki pulled back just enough to see him clearly. No crown, No cloak. A man in modern clothes.
Alive and real.
Standing in front of him under neon bar lights instead of starlight. Shoto studied his face curiously.
“…Have we met before?” he asked softly.
Katsuki’s heart thundered. Maybe the well didn’t just repair fractures. Maybe it rerouted them.
****
Epilogue
It’s been a year.
Twelve months of late night ramen runs and early morning patrol debriefs.
Twelve months of discovering that this Shoto preferred tea over coffee, hated cilantro with quiet conviction, and absolutely destroyed Katsuki at arcade racing games with an expression of serene focus.
Twelve months of warmth that didn’t flicker like a dream.
Katsuki had known it slowly at first. This wasn’t the prince. Not the exact one who had stood beneath a frostbitten sky and called him a star.
This was the Shoto of this world. Born under the same sun as him. Raised in crowded cities instead of marble halls. No scar tracing his left eye. Dual colored gaze still steady and deep and far too perceptive.
This Shoto own a shop where he made and teaches people to make bowls, chopsticks and anything you’d use in the kitchen.
He’s also the son of a former pro hero, Endeavor. Katsuki doesn’t know much about the former hero. He died when Katsuki was a baby. Shoto is younger than Katsuki by about nine months so that means his father died before he was born.
The currrent Endeavor Touya Todoroki is Shoto’s brother and Shoto is extremely proud of him.
Shoto has never desired to be a pro hero despite his amazing quirk and his family supports that.
He wants to open a restaurant one day but is terrible at cooking. That amuses Katsuki. Shoto amuses him.
After everything that happened Katsuki thought he would never laugh again but this Shoto makes him laugh so hard he can’t breathe.
And still… sometimes, late at night, Katsuki would stare at the ceiling and wonder.
Did prince Shoto win?
Did he stop his brother?
Did he ever look at the sky and think of him?
Shoto would always sense when his thoughts drifted too far. He would wordlessly lace their fingers together and rest his forehead against Katsuki’s shoulder.
This always grounds Katsuki. Brought his heart back to this world.
****
They were at a bookstore when it happened.
A quiet Saturday. Snow tapping lightly against the windows. The smell of paper and ink and coffee in the air.
Katsuki had accompanied his boyfriend after a particularly horrible cooking lesson. He decided Shoto should buy some books on the basics of cooking.
That’s when he saw it.
Front display. Bold silver lettering.
“The Ice Prince and the Barbarian.”
His heart stuttered. He stepped closer slowly. The cover illustration was unmistakable.
A pale prince with dual colored eyes, standing beneath falling snow.
And beside him. A scowling, flame-wielding barbarian in black and orange. Who looked infuriatingly like him.
Katsuki stared.
Shoto stepped up beside him, curious. “That title is dramatic.”
“You have no idea,” Katsuki muttered.
Shoto picked it up, flipping it over. “They kinda look like us. You think they’re lovers?”
“Don’t say that so casually.”
Shoto smiled slightly. “Should I not?”
Katsuki’s throat tightened unexpectedly. The author’s name. The same woman.
Of course. He flipped through a few pages.
Prince was depressed… he embarked on a journey to defeat his brother… he met a barbarian… they journey together…. They defeated the evil prince together… they fell in love… usurped the king and now rule together.
Katsuki cried while reading it. Somewhere, in some version of the world, the ice prince had found happiness too.
Shoto rubbed comforting circles in his back but stayed silent. Katsuki huffed and marched to the register without another word. He bought it immediately.
Outside the bookstore, snow drifted down in lazy spirals. Shoto slipped his hand into Katsuki’s coat pocket, fingers curling around his.
“You really wanted that book,” he observed gently.
Katsuki looked at him. At his eyes. At the life that was here. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I did.”
Shoto studied him for a moment. Then smiled and in that smile, Katsuki understood something fully for the first time.