Chapter Text
Ice Prince
Katsuki Bakugo groaned as he shook the snow from his boots. He hated winter. It was like the world flatlined during this time of year. There were no birds singing to announce the dawn of a new day. The days were short, and even when the sun was out, he couldn’t feel its warmth and its light was dimmed and sometimes useless.
What was even more annoying was that people tried to deny their surroundings. Trying to illuminate the world themselves with numerous holidays. As if their obnoxious festive lights would be enough to jumpstart the world.
He removed his coat and turned up the heat.
He sat on his couch, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
He hated this time of year for another reason as well, he remembered as he flicked through the channels on his television.
All this family propaganda!
It has to be propaganda. Katsuki isn’t against families, quite the opposite, actually. He loves his mother and father, even though his mom tap dances on his last nerve on every visit. He would go to the ends of the earth for her anytime she needs.
But these ridiculous holiday movies preached the opposite.
Why do these families only get together during the holidays?
Why is the male childhood friend always waiting around for the protagonist ? Sometimes for decades?
Why must the career-driven successful woman give up her career for love?
Honestly, Ridiculous was an understatement.
Katsuki Bakugo was a pro hero. He had gotten there through years of blood, sweat, and tears. It’s his greatest accomplishment, and he’s never been in love before, but he’s certain. It would never be worth his career.
He turned his tv off. The poorly worded love confession it was broadcasting was threatening to give him a migraine. He leaned back against his couch and sighed.
The only sound he heard back was the ticking of the clock. Was it always this loud? He rolled his eyes; his father was such a clown, why would he gift him such a loud clock?
He went to his bedroom. He was annoyed. He knew himself. He couldn’t sleep when he was annoyed. So he’d do something productive. He pulled out the storybooks he was supposed to read at the orphanage next week.
He didn’t mind the activity even he could be noble at times, but he hated that he was a last resort. First, they wanted Deku, the number one hero, then Lemillon because he was well-liked by kids, but Deku was on an extended honeymoon with his wife, Ochako, and Lemillon was in America working on new hero gear. So they tried other heroes: Pinky, Red Riot, Ingenium… the list goes on, but they were unfortunately busy. That’s when they finally asked Katsuki.
In their defense, this wasn’t the type of thing he normally did. Actually, when it comes to fanfare, he usually declines. So what’s the point of asking if you know the answer is a no?
They were wrong, however. Katsuki was a loud, foul-mouthed young man, but he wasn’t a monster. He was a hero, and what hero would turn down reading to kids if they are available to do so?
He skimmed over the titles of the books: Frog and Toad, Sleeping Beauty, The Golden Touch. Most were ones he knew, then one particular stood out to him.
The Ice Prince.
Katsuki brought the book closer to his face. Looking at the illustration. Katsuki wasn’t big on art, but this was the most striking illustration he’d ever seen. There was a man lying in plush snow. His hair was fascinating, two colors: a fiery red and pure white split down the middle. His clothes were intricate and obviously high quality. His skin was astonishingly pale. It was like this young man had never seen the sun, and he had a scar that encompassed his entire left eye.
Katsuki absentmindedly caressed the drawing with his thumb. He couldn’t tell why he did, but it was like the prince was looking directly at him. Looking up at him, desperate for comfort.
He skimmed through it. The illustrations were beautiful on every single page, but the words made him deduce immediately. This wasn’t a children’s book at all:
On one terribly cold winter night. A prince was born, but this prince didn’t cry. He didn’t make a single sound. The only cries that echoed off the palace walls were of the eldest prince, the newborn’s brother. His anguished cries were loud enough for almost the entire kingdom to hear because the king, Enji, looked at the newborn in a way that he never looked at any of his other children.
“perfection has been achieved is all he said.” Was all the king said grinning almost maliciously at the newborn.
Katsuki examined the images the way the woman, the newborn‘s mother, held onto the baby tight, protectively, as the large king leered over them. Her eyes were hopelessly defeated, and the elder prince cried so hard his throat muscles tensed at the release of the sheer amount of sound, but no one paid attention to him.
The ticking of the clock pried Katsuki’s mind from the story. He most definitely would be getting rid of that clock tomorrow. He glanced at his phone: 9:30pm ? he came home at 8:30 p.m. He didn’t watch the tv for that long… really, he probably looked at it for less than five minutes, and he hadn’t even made dinner yet. Was he looking at the illustrations for so long?
Regardless, he couldn’t dwell on this timeskip. It was time for bed. He quickly showered, put on his PJs, and did his nightly stretches and got in.
He fell asleep before he realized he did.
***
Katsuki shifted awaken because he felt cold. Not a draft from a poorly sealed window.
This cold seeped deep into his bones and clawed at his skin.
Katsuki’s eyes snapped open so quickly it almost threw him off balance thats when he realized he was standing.
That was the first thing he noticed. He distinctly remembered lying down.
The second thing he noticed was the sky.
It wasn’t his ceiling. It wasn’t even a sky he recognized. It stretched wide and silver-blue above him, streaked with aurora-like ribbons of pale light that shimmered slowly, lazily, like they had all the time in the world.
“What the hell…?”
The next thing he noticed was that he was walled in. He looked around there was solid brick walls on every side of him. He hissed as he effortlessly grabbed the walls and climbed out.
He was inside a well?
His boots crunched against snow as he started to move.
Snow?
He looked down. He wasn’t in pajamas. He was in his hero costume. Gauntlets and all.
“Great. Some kind of quirk,” he deduced rationally.
He didn’t panic he has been under multiple mind-bending quirks before. So he strategized.
Once he faced a villain with this power before. He just had to locate them within the illusion and blast them. The other time he had to find a specific item and destroy it.
He scanned the horizon. “Great”, the blonde muttered sarcastically as he realized he was deep in the woods.
It’s probably going to be hard to find the bastard who did this but still he walked through. Hard was a motivator for Katsuki after all.
He walked for a while through a huge forest until he saw Towering stone standing tall in the distance, jagged and pale as bone. Spires pierced the glowing sky.
A castle.
He stomped forward through the snow until he stood in front of a set of massive iron gates.
Guards stood at attention on either side, spears in hand. Katsuki didn’t hesitate he held up both of his hands, aiming them at both of their faces.
“Hey,” Katsuki asked making sure his voice was rough with hostility. “Where the hell am I?”
The guards gave no reaction. Not even glanced in his direction.
He walked right up to one of them. “Oi! I’m talking to you.”
He still got no response. The guard didn’t shift or even blink. Katsuki waved a hand in front of the man’s face and again got no response.
A slow irritation crawled up his spine. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered walking up to the gate what a strange quirk he thought.
If it was a mental attack against him why weren’t the guards acknowledging him?
He couldn’t dwell on it for too long maybe it was just glitching and this was a lucky opportunity to move on without fighting.
Not that he minded a good brawl, but Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t stupid it’s better to save energy for the final boss.
He shoved the gate. His hand passed straight through it. Katsuki froze.
“…What.” He looked at his hand. They were normal. The same solid gloved hand that carried him through multiple crises.
He punched the gate again and his fist went through the iron like it was mist. He staggered back.
“Okay. Fine. Weird quirk. I’ll blast my way out.” He pulled his hand back to ignite an explosion but nothing happened.
No spark. No heat. No familiar crackle. His stomach dropped. He tried again but it was the same result.
Nothing.
“Great,” he hissed. “Just great.”
He mentally hope this illusion quirk was the second type he encountered. To have to find something and destroy it because he’ll be at a disadvantage if he has to face someone when he’s literally phasing through everything.
He moved through the gate without resistance, boots gliding across marble floors once he reached the courtyard.
Servants bustled past him carrying linens, trays, bundles of wood.
No one saw him. He tried grabbing someone’s shoulder but his hand slipped through.
He walked through the grand doors of the palace like a ghost unsure of its haunting.
Hallways stretched endlessly, lined with banners of red and white. Paintings of a stern man with fire in his eyes and a woman with sorrow etched into her posture.
Suddenly he heard a loud sound. Like a boulder was crashing into a tower of glass. Katsuki turned a corner and quickly ran to it. He had a feeling he’s reached the core of this illusion.
He ran until he made it to a training courtyard that was carved from stone and frost. At its center stood him.
The illustration.
The boy from the book.
Taller than he’d imagined. Broad-shouldered already, posture rigid. Hair split perfectly down the middle, red and white catching the cold light. A round scar carved over his left eye.
Ice spiraled from his palm in controlled arcs, forming spears that shot toward a woman who had long, flaming yellowish-green hair and pointy teeth.
She barely managed to dodge it, obviously exhausted.
The boy from the book also made a wall of ice instantly to shield him from a large young man hurling blades of wind at him.
Katsuki was quite impressed which meant a lot. Only All Might and his childhood friend/ rival had ever acquired his admiration.
Across from him stood a towering man in regal armor. Fire coiled around his fist.
“Again,” the man commanded. “you do not stop because they are tired. You stop because they are defeated.”
The prince didn’t argue. He moved.
Ice met fire with a violent hiss the woman was defeated.
Afterwards he aimed ice shards that sent the wind user falling from the sky.
The prince still there after his hands trembling and his head hung low.
Katsuki felt it in his chest.
The prince’s movements were flawless. Efficient, controlled… exhausted.
Katsuki saw it immediately. The stiffness in his shoulders. The fraction-of-a-second delay before each command was obeyed.
“Again,” the king repeated. “Come at me, boy.”
The prince’s jaw tightened but obeyed. They went on like that for what felt like hours.
Sword training followed. Steel clanged against steel under a different instructor’s watchful eye. Then horse riding drills in the frozen fields beyond the walls. Then tutors with stacks of parchment thicker than Katsuki’s patience.
And through it all, Katsuki followed him like it was his duty to.
Every time the prince’s expression faltered for just a second, something sharp twisted in Katsuki’s ribs.
He wanted to yell at the large man can’t you see he needs a break? Maybe hit him upside the head but in his current state he could do neither.
He felt so useless.
By the time the prince finally returned to his chambers, dusk had painted the sky in pale violet.
The servants shut the door and finally the prince’s shoulders slumped as a long, heavy exhale escaped his lips. He removed his gloves slowly. His fingers trembled.
“You’re overworked.” Katsuki said from behind him without thinking after all, he didn’t think the boy would hear but….
The prince froze then excruciatingly slow, he turned his head and looked directly at him.
Katsuki’s breath caught.
Blue and gray eyes locked onto his. Not through him.
At him.
“…You can see me?” Katsuki asked.
The prince stared nodding in pure terror.
Katsuki held his hand up to prove he wasn’t a threat. “Don’t go screaming on me, peppermint. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“Peppermint?” the prince repeated “You are not a servant.”
“Do I look like a servant?”
“No.” The prince tilted his head slightly. “You are dressed strangely.”
“And you’re dressed like you’re about to freeze to death.” Katsuki joked referring to the prince’s silky attire not suited for the intense winter around them.
The Prince didn’t laugh, however confusion bloomed against his features “…I do not feel cold.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki scratched his chin. Is it because he has an ice quirk? he pondered.
The prince stepped closer. He was tall. Annoyingly tall. Katsuki had to tilt his chin up slightly.
“Did you observe my training?,” the prince observed. “You must’ve followed me all day.”
“Yeah, well, nobody else can see me. Figured I’d stick with the one guy who doesn’t look like a brick wall.”
The prince blinked. “…Brick wall?”
“Never mind.”
They stood there for a bit, studying each other.
“What is your name?” the prince asked.
“Katsuki Bakugo.” The name sounded loud in the quiet chamber.
The prince nodded once. “I am Shoto Todoroki.”
The name felt familiar on Katsuki’s ears
“You know,” Katsuki said, crossing his arms, “you don’t have to do everything he says.”
Shoto’s expression shifted, slightly. “He is the king.”
“So?”
Shoto stared at him as if he’d just suggested gravity was optional. “This is my duty.”
“It’s too much,” Katsuki snapped. “Training like that all day? You look like you’re about to collapse. The king is an idiot to think that’s sustainable.”
Shoto glanced down at his own hands, flexing them slowly. “This is my life. I can’t hide from the life I’ve been given.”
The way he said it, matter-of-fact. Like it had never occurred to him that it could be different made Katsuki felt heat flare in his chest, though he couldn’t summon a single spark to his palms. This boy pulled on the hero part of him that was inspired by All Might.
“Where I come from.” he said, quieter now, “I’m a hero.”
Shoto’s gaze sharpened. “A hero?”
“Yeah. I fight villains. Protect people. Save idiots from themselves.”
Shoto stepped closer again his breath hitched in awe. He’s read about heroes before. They were in the stories, but his mom used to give him before her “accident”.
They were usually handsome, confident knights who save the princess from confinement and a dragon.
Katsuki was certainly handsome and extremely confident but Shoto was no princess.
“Obviously without being commanded.” Katsuki gloated after seeing the prince’s amazed expression.
“You choose to?”
“Yeah.” Shoto looked at him like he’d just described flying without wings.
“You speak freely,” Shoto murmured. “You criticized a king. You do not kneel.”
“I don’t kneel to anybody.”
That sentence flipped Shoto’s world upside down. He’s seen rich, poor, young and old all kneel before his father. He thought it was just the natural order of things.
“You are… very different.”
“Good.”
Shoto smiled even wider than when he and Izuku saw All might before at book signing when they were kids.
He asked many things after that. About heroes. Katsuki happily explained quirks. About how awesome his quirk is. About cities that never slept and trains that ran underground.
Shoto told him things in return like how only the royal family had powers and how he was the youngest of the king’s children but still the one who will ascend to the role of king.
Katsuki eventually made himself comfortable on Shoto’s ridiculously large bed. He mentally wondered why he was in phasing through, but was too preoccupied with their conversation until he yawned.
“You are tired,” Shoto observed.
“Yeah, well. Long day.”
“You may rest.”
Katsuki snorted. “Not like I can go anywhere.”
“You can stay.” Shoto’s gaze softened. A slight blush on his cheeks “no one comes into my chambers at night and my servants ring a bell before they come into my room in the morning.”
The room felt warmer somehow.
Katsuki meant to reply. Instead, his eyelids grew heavy… weirdly heavy. “Oi… if this is some magic thing-” His vision blurred.
Shoto leaned forward slightly. “Katsuki?”
That was the last thing he heard.
****
Katsuki jolted upright in his own bed. Greeted by the ticking of his annoyingly, loud clock.
His heart pounded at his chest as he gasped, disorientated. He threw the covers back and stood, scanning his apartment.
He looked at his hands and touched his walls solid. He didn’t phase through. “…Tch.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face.
He just had a dream? He barely dreams. How weird and …why was it so vivid?
***
The next morning, Katsuki decided it was nothing.
A dream.
Just a dream. He told himself that while brushing his teeth. Told himself that while tying his boots. Told himself that while stepping into the cold, trying to push the dream far out of his mind.
It meant nothing.
By noon, he was blasting through a warehouse district downtown.
A villain with a metal manipulation quirk had turned the inside of an abandoned factory into a spinning death trap of floating steel beams and twisted sheet metal.
“Stay down, Iron for brains!” Katsuki barked, launching himself forward with a burst of explosions.
Metal shrieked through the air toward him.
He dodged cleanly, calculating angles instinctively.
Ice would counter this well.
The thought slipped in uninvited. He faltered half a second too long and beam grazed his shoulder.
“Tch!” He corrected instantly, blasting the beam to molten scrap and pinning the villain in under thirty seconds flat.
The fight ended efficiently but when the police cuffed the villain, Katsuki stood there staring at the steam rising from cooling metal.
Ice would have neutralized the structure faster.
His jaw tightened as shook away the thought. It was just strategy. Nothing else.
***
Reports were worse. The office smelled faintly of printer toner and burnt coffee. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. He sat at his desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Property damage: moderate.
Civilian injuries: none.
Hero response time: satisfactory.
He typed automatically.
His finger stopped before continuing.
Hero support utilized: N/A.
His mind drifted. “You may rest.”
He blinked hard and deleted a line he hadn’t realized he’d typed.
Ice containment potential significant.
“…Idiot,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face.
It was a dream. He needed to get a grip.
***
The meet and greet was held in a mall atrium already drowning in glittering decorations. Red and gold banners hung from every railing.
Katsuki stood beside Eijiro Kirishima, who was practically vibrating with enthusiasm as kids lined up for autographs.
Katsuki groaned he can’t believe he let his PR team talk him into this.
“You’re lookin’ sharp today, Bakubro!” Kirishima grinned, clapping him on the back.
“Must you always be so damn loud, shitty hair?” Katsuki grimaced as he signed a poster without looking at it.
A kid tugged at his sleeve. “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, what’s your favorite part about being a hero?”
“Choosing.” he said, without thinking the answer surprised him.
“Choosing what?” The kid blinked. The blonde blinked too.
“Choosing to win,” he corrected quickly. “Next.”
Kirishima glanced sideways at him.Later, while a group photo was being arranged, Kirishima leaned closer. “You good?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re signing everything in the exact same spot.” Kirishima informed and Katsuki looked down. Every signature perfectly aligned in the lower right corner. Identical placement. Identical size.
“…So?”
“Don’t you think you should change it up at that point it’s just a stamp,” Kirishima said gently. “You’re kinda on autopilot.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Kirishima studied him a second longer, red eyes softer than usual. “Alright. But if you wanna grab drinks later, unwind a little? On me.”
A tempting offer. Katsuki pictured dim lights, background music, laughter.
Then he pictured silver-blue sky and frost curling along stone walls.
“Nah,” he said quickly. “Got stuff to do.”
Kirishima raised a brow but didn’t push.
“Rain check.”
“Yeah.”
***
By the time Katsuki got home, the apartment felt too quiet. Only the incessant tick of that annoying loud clock.
He ignored it and didn’t turn on the TV. He didn’t look at the storybook. He went straight to his laptop and typed in a search engine.
‘Extremely realistic dream’
Hundreds of possible response is populated he clicked on the first link. It was articles about vivid dreaming. Trauma processing. Stress responses.
He groaned. the dream he had was the opposite of traumatic. He clicked his tongue and typed again.
‘dream where you can interact and think clearly’
‘Lucid dreaming.’ Populated instantly, he leaned forward as he read.
“Lucid dreams occur when the dreamer becomes aware they are dreaming. In some cases, the dreamer may gain control over the environment and narrative.”
Control.
His eyes scanned faster.
Techniques to induce lucid dreaming:
• Reality checks
• Dream journaling
• Consistent sleep schedule
• Intention setting before sleep
He clicked another link.
Lucid dreamers often report heightened sensory detail and a sense of realism nearly indistinguishable from waking life.
He sat back slowly.
That. was. it. That had to be it.
Stress and overwork led to his subconscious manifesting fairy tale imagery because he’d read a stupid book before bed.
And if lucid dreamers could control their dreams…. He could test it. He shut the laptop.
“Fine,” he muttered to the empty room. “Let’s see.”
He ate quickly then showered. The hot water grounded him, steam curling against tile. He pressed his palm against the wall, solid and real. Not mist. Not passing through iron gates.
He changed into sleep clothes and sat on the edge of his bed.
Okay. If this is lucid dreaming, I control it.
He lay back, staring at the ceiling.
“I’m dreaming,” he murmured quietly, testing the phrase. “If I see him, I’m in control.”
He shut his eyes and focused. If he could control it, maybe he wouldn’t just observe.
Maybe he wouldn’t feel so…
…lonely.
Katsuki would never admit to anyone he knows but he’s lonely. He’s tried dating before but it doesn’t work. No one can meet his impossibly high standards, but that doesn’t mean he’ll ever lower them.
However Shoto does. He passes all of Katsuki’s qualifications.
His thoughts softened and this time, as sleep wrapped around him, he didn’t drift unaware. He leaned toward it.
He laid still until he felt warmer. A lot more comfortable than when he laid in his own bed. He opened his eyes and felt the silk beneath his palms saw heavy curtains and frost tracing delicate patterns along tall windows.
He was sitting upright in a bed it was ridiculously large and plush.
It’s Shoto’s bed.
Exactly where he’d been when he’d fallen asleep. “…Okay.”
He looked down at himself. Not his hero costume this time. It was a black T-shirt and black sweat pants, similar to what he wore almost on a daily basis. The room was empty.
“Oi?” he called, already irritated at the flicker of disappointment in his chest. He got no answer back.
He slid off the bed and marched toward the door. Last time he’d phased through iron. So he didn’t bother turning the handle. He stepped forward confidently.
Thud!
Pain exploded across his forehead. “What the-?!” He staggered back, clutching his head.
The door remained aggressively solid. He stared at it. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He pressed his palm against the wood. It was hard and cold against his hand. Which surprised him to say the least. He tried the wall also solid. He flexed his fingers slowly.
“I’m just more aware,” he muttered. “Lucid dreaming. That’s all.”
More awareness meant more physicality. That made sense.
…Probably.
He grabbed the handle this time. It turned and the door opened. In the hallway, two servants froze, staring at the door swinging open on its own. One of them made a small sign against bad luck.
Katsuki glanced at them and they glanced right through him.
“…Still invisible. Great.” He moved quickly down the corridor. Voices echoed from the courtyard below. He leaned over the stone balcony.
Shoto stood there straight as a blade as the king towered over him.
“I am going to the Wetland Kingdom to discuss allyship,” Enji declared, voice cutting through the winter air. “Do not neglect your training or your duties in my absence.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I will not.” Shoto bowed low. He didn’t dare to look up. He only heard the carriage wheels groaned over snow as the king departed.
The servants watching wore careful expressions. Pity tucked behind discipline. The prince was gentle and kind. So unlike the king.
Many wish they could intervene when Shoto was being so hardly scolded but they knew their lives would be forfeit if they did.
Shoto remained bowed until the carriage disappeared beyond the gates only then he dared to straighten.
His shoulders sagged for a fraction of a second he turned his head to face the palace, ready to go in and do his daily routine.
Then he saw Katsuki and his entire face changed. He smiled brightly it was like sunlight breaking through ice.
“Katsuki.” He didn’t walk, he ran.
The servants stiffened in alarm as their prince hurried toward what appeared to be empty air with a smile spreading across his face.
They exchanged worried glances. Stress, they would tell themselves later. The king’s absence weighed heavily.
They couldn’t see Katsuki so they only saw their beloved prince stop in front of the corridor in front of nothing. They saw him reach for nothing and him hastily leaving with nothing.
But Katsuki saw Shoto run up to him, then smiled as he took his hand in his. It was warm and solid. Katsuki blinked down at their joined fingers.
He can touch me.
Before he could process that fully, Shoto pulled him inside. Into a private study tucked behind towering shelves of books and maps.
The door shut and suddenly Shoto wrapped his arms around him and lifted him.
Actually lifted him.
Katsuki made an undignified noise as Shoto buried his face against his neck. Shoto’s body was strong his intense honing of it evident in how effortlessly he lifted the blonde like he was made of air.
“You-!” He shoved at him instinctively like a startled cat. “Put me down!”
Shoto did, but reluctantly. “I apologize,” Shoto said quickly, though he did not look apologetic. “I thought I would never see you again. After you fell asleep, you disappeared.”
“…I what?” Katsuki blinked.
“You were there. And then you were not.”
That’s really strange. None of the websites told him things like this. It’s like Shoto saying the dream keeps on happening even when he’s gone.
That would be ridiculous… maybe his subconscious was trying to make the dream seem seamless that had to be it.
“Yeah, well. I’m back.” The blonde said standing akimbo. Shoto looked at him like that meant more than it should because it did.
Katsuki turned sharply, scanning the study.
Wood. Rope. A polished shield mounted on the wall. Thick fabric. He moved fast.
“What are you doing?” Shoto asked, stepping closer.
“Upgrading your life.” Within minutes, Katsuki had yanked materials together into something vaguely sled-shaped. It was rough but functional.
It was perfect.
He dragged it toward the door. “Come on, peppermint. We’re going sledding.”
“Sledding?” Shoto blinked.
“Don’t overthink it.” He grabbed Shoto’s wrist and pulled him along.
“My duties, Katsu-” Shoto hesitated.
“Will survive without you for one hour.” Katsuki said in a tone that made it impossible to argue.
They slipped beyond the palace walls, past guards who saw only their prince striding determinedly toward the hills the shield floating next to him.
It was strange but no one knew the extent of the powers that the prince possessed. They didn’t have powers and prince Shoto has built mountains out of ice before so they didn’t think about it too much.
Snow blanketed the landscape in untouched white. Katsuki positioned the sled at the crest of a hill. “Sit.”
Shoto obeyed without question and Katsuki climbed behind him. Shoto’s cheek warmed with a blush.
Katsuki saw it and found it cute. “Lean back. Don’t panic.” Katsuki said in a voice even he found unnaturally gentle.
“Why would I-” Shoto started but was cut by his own gasp as they launched forward.
Shoto’s breath caught sharply as they picked up speed. Wind tore at his hair. Snow sprayed around them in glittering arcs.
For one suspended moment, the prince who had never left his castle walls laughed.
He had such a lovely laugh it wasn’t boisterous but giddy and genuine.
They crashed gently into a drift at the bottom. Shoto sat there stunned. Then he turned slowly to look at Katsuki.
“That,” he said carefully, “was extraordinary.”
“You’re deprived.” Katsuki snorted.
They went again and again, each time Shoto’s composure cracking a little more. More joy illuminating his eyes and life flushing on his cheeks.
He had never done something purely for joy, yet he loved it. He loved the speed, the rebellion.
Above all he loves the boy behind him who felt like fire against endless winter. To Shoto, Katsuki was impossible brightly, loud, defiant. A star that had fallen into his frozen world.
Katsuki watched the way Shoto smiled and felt something settle inside him. The hero in him quieted. Shoto’s eyes weren’t lifeless anymore and that’s because of him he saved someone.
Eventually, flushed and breathless, they returned to the palace. Shoto ordered tea for his chambers with two cups.
The servants delivered eyes flicking nervously to the empty space beside their prince. In private, Shoto handed one cup directly into Katsuki’s hand.
“Katsuki where did you learn sledding?” Shoto asked physically buzzing with excitement. Katsuki laughed at Shoto’s childlike excitement about something he found so mundane.
“My clown of an old man did.” He replied taking a sip of tea.
“Clown? Old man?” Shoto asked, head tilted as he tried to decipher the blonde’s words.
Katsuki laughed at this. “My dad taught me.”
“Oh.” Shoto said all the excitement leaving him as quickly as air out of a popped balloon. “i’m sorry.”
“Huh?” Katsuki asked leaning closer “sorry for what?”
“For me you had to do something that your father taught you. It must’ve been hard to relive it.” Shoto said looking away.
Katsuki gently cupped Shoto’s cheeks turning his head back to him making their eyes meet again.
“What are you talking about, princess? Sledding wasn’t traumatic for me and you didn’t make me do it. I wanted you to laugh and I succeeded. Sledding is fun. It was one of the rare things my dad wasn’t terrified of.”
He called me princess? Shoto’s mind reeled in disbelief.
“Your father hurt your head real bad, didn’t he?” Katsuki continued his voice laced with poorly contained anger. “That makes me so mad. Don’t apologize because he warped your view of family relationships. My dad didn’t hurt me and don’t go thinking how your father treats you is normal. It’s not he’s a degenerate.”
Shoto blinked at the words. What’s going on with him isn’t normal. Really? He never imagined it could be another way.
“Please tell me about your family, Katsuki.” Shoto pleaded the child like wonder coming back.
“My dad’s a coward. He’s scared of thunder and he’s terrified of my mom I don’t blame him, though. My mom is such a loud hag.” Katsuki answered chuckling to himself as he remembered them “but they’re my parents. They’re good to me. I love them.” he added, that wasn’t something he would normally say, but he felt like he could let down his guard in front of Shoto a bit.
He was conflicted by the look of pure awe on Shoto’s face. He’s happy to tell the prince things he didn’t know about expand his horizons, but he hated that a happy family was a foreign concept to him.
“that’s amazing. Can you tell me more, Katsuki?”
Katsuki agreed because there was no way he could refuse when Shoto looked at him that way and hung on his every word. He talked until his voice grew softer.
Until his eyelids drooped.
Shoto leaned closer. “You are fading,” he whispered.
“Shut up,” Katsuki mumbled. “I’m not-”
The room blurred.
Shoto reached forward quickly.
“Katsuki-”
*****
He jolted upright in his own bed as pre-dawn gray filtered through his curtains. Grabbing his phone and he saw the time: 5:02 AM.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered before lying back down immediately, closing his eyes, and focusing.
He thought of ice, a castle, Shoto, but nothing came. Rolling onto his side, he tried again, but still, nothing. Frustrated, he punched his pillow.
“Stupid brain.” He stared at the ceiling until the ticking clock filled the silence once more, too loud and too real.
Katsuki went through the motions daily.
Fight, write reports then finally.
At night Katsuki stopped pretending it was coincidence by the third evening. He would lie down with intention now. Not experimenting… waiting.
Ready to leave this world behind every night.
***
He began appearing in different places.
Once in Shoto’s study.
Once in the courtyard fountain, startling a pair of maids who watched water ripple around nothing.
Once directly behind Shoto during sword practice.
Shoto never startled. He would simply pause mid-swing, lower the blade, and say quietly, “You’re here.”
Katsuki came consistently. Shoto started waiting on the visits. The highlight of his life and he had started planning.
One evening Shoto had a folded map ready.
“There is a frozen lake beyond the northern watchtower,” he said carefully. “The guards rarely patrol there after dusk. Let’s go.”
“You’re getting sneaky,” Katsuki smirked.
“I am learning from you.”
Another night, they had soup together. Katsuki was surprised how it was perfectly time to be as soon as he arrived. It was spicy and perfect. The blonde felt a warmth in his chest that wasn’t from the soup but from the gesture.
***
By the end of the week, Katsuki found himself glancing at clocks. Watching minutes. He fought villains faster. Finished paperwork with ruthless efficiency. Sleep wasn’t visiting anymore.
It was arrival.
***
The night they climbed the tower, the wind nearly stole Katsuki’s breath.
They stood at the very top, the kingdom spread below them like a spill of silver ink.
Above them, the sky felt closer than it had any right to be. Stars burned bright and near, as if the heavens leaned down to listen.
Shoto rested his arms on the stone railing.
“I have always liked the stars,” he said quietly.
“You looked like the type of guy who would.” Katsuki muttered.
“I do?” Shoto asked intrigued standing closer to the blonde until their sides were flushed against each other. “Why?”
Katsuki face reddened more he internally hoped the prince wouldn’t notice because he was already flushed in the cold. “I don’t know you just look philanthropic. No, I think you are and idiots who are kind and love everyone. I just think they do something cheesy like look up at the stars all the time.”
Shoto was stunned by that answer. He didn’t notice Katsuki was looking back at him as deeply as he was looking.
He felt a bit embarrassed at being so transparent but cleared his throat and continued.
“There is one,” he said softly. “It is usually right there.”He pointed slightly east.
“It is the brightest one. I looked forward to seeing it each night.”
Katsuki squinted. “I don’t see anything.”
“I have not seen it in some time,” Shoto continued. “I believe the star has descended.”
“Descended?” Katsuki frowned.
“Yes I think it’s down here on earth.” Shoto smiled.
“Tch you idiot, You’d notice a star on the ground.”
“I don’t know I’m pretty aloof.” Shoto teased.
”Not that aloof firstly if a star was supposed to fall, it would burn up before it makes it to earth.” Katsuki explained.
“Yeah?” Shoto mused “and if one managed to make it to earth, what would it be like?”
“An explosion of course! How do you say you like the stars and don’t know that?” Katsuki clicked his tongue.
Shoto considered this only briefly then said.“It has.”
He looked at Katsuki intently like he was trying to memorize every pore and every strand of hair because he was.
The silence that followed was not cold. Katsuki felt heat climb up his neck under that steady, open gaze.
“You’re so weird.” He nudged Shoto sharply with his elbow.
Shoto laughed soft and genuine.
And Katsuki had to look away first.
****
The next night, they walked through the palace gardens. Snow dusted everything except the camellias. They bloomed stubbornly through frost, petals luminous.
Actually luminous.
Soft bioluminescent glow pulsing faintly in shades of cream and pale gold. Katsuki crouched slightly, staring.
“Your world’s ridiculous,” he muttered.
Shoto knelt beside him. “These are one of the few flowers that do not bow to winter.”
He plucked several carefully, hands gentle. Inside his chambers, he wrapped them in thin silver paper and tied them with string. Then he held them out.
“For you.”
Katsuki blinked. “For what?”
Because I’m in love with you. Because you’re perfect. Because this is the least that you deserve. Were the possible responses that came up hot on the prince’s tongue.
“For coming.” Was what he settled on.
The flowers glowed faintly against Katsuki’s palms. He swallowed a pink tinting his cheeks “You’re so corny.”
***
Back in his own world, the apartment no longer felt hollow.
It felt temporary.
Katsuki began counting hours instead of days. On his day off, he slept in intentionally. He ignored his mother’s calls on Christmas just gave her a quick text, saying that he’s busy.
He stopped by a pharmacy after patrol one day and got sleeping pills.
He didn’t tell anyone about the dreams because it’s no one‘s business but Kirishima noticed.
Of course he did.
They were finishing a joint patrol when Kirishima bumped his shoulder lightly. “You good, man?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been… disappearing.”
“I live alone. That’s not disappearing.”
Kirishima hesitated. “You’re never free anymore. Which, fine, we get busy. But what are you busy with?”
Katsuki didn’t answer immediately.
Kirishima continued carefully, “You’re not dating anyone. You go straight home every night. Do you just… sleep?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“And if you’re sleeping,” Kirishima pressed gently, “why are you buying sleeping pills?”
Katsuki’s steps faltered half a beat.
“How did you know that?” Katsuki barked like a cornered animal. Deep down in a place he was trying to tuck it away the feeling that this was wrong.
He’s becoming dependent on something that he never needed before and the people around him were noticing.
He wishes he could say he could stop when he wants, but he can’t. He wants to see Shoto. Even this conversation is annoying he wants to go home. He wants to sleep even though he’s not tired at all.
“the receipt fell out of your pocket when you were pursuing that villain today, I thought it might be something important so I took it up.” Kirishima’s expression wasn’t teasing. “I’m worried, man.”
The words hung there.
Katsuki scoffed. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m serious.”
Katsuki looked away then shrugged. “I just need rest. That’s it.”
Kirishima studied him like he didn’t believe that for a second.
“Okay,” he said finally. “But if something’s going on, you don’t have to handle it alone.”
Katsuki didn’t respond because the truth was he wasn’t alone.
…Not at night.
***
Katsuki woke to music. Not quiet crackles of torches or distant wind over stone.
An orchestra playing slow constant melodies. He blinked up at a ceiling he now recognized too easily.
Shoto’s room.
He sat up slowly and looked down at himself. Which was the first thing he usually did when he came to Shoto’s. He was wearing his pajamas.
His actual pajamas. His plain black wooly pajamas. “…That’s new.”
Last week it had been his hero costume. Then simple dark clothes. Then it had been variance of those two.
Now this? These dreams were getting bold.
…Or real.
He shoved that thought aside immediately.
Music swelled somewhere below. He stepped into the hallway. Light spilled through archways, warm gold against marble.
Servants hurried past carrying trays of wine and sugared fruits. Two maids lingered near a pillar, whispering.
“I can’t believe the youngest prince is twenty now,” one said, eyes glossy. “I remember when he was just a baby.”
“Me too,” the other sighed. “The king has always been so hard on him. And now… I can’t imagine the pressure he’s under to marry.”
The first grimaced. “Every moment of his life decided for him.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened. Of course turning twenty meant market value. Both Kirishima and Deku got married at 20.
He exhaled sharply and that was when one of the maids turned.
Her eyes locked onto his. Not through him, on to him.
Her face drained of color. Katsuki didn’t think. He bolted down the corridor.
“Is something wrong?” the second maid asked turning her head to where Katsuki was.
“Well there was just-” The first shook her head. “Never mind. I probably imagined it.”
They resumed whispering.
Katsuki didn’t slow until he threw open a door and ducked inside. It was filled with fabric threads and needles, but fortunately empty, he sighed in relief.
Then suddenly… A man stood from behind a worktable, arms full of folded silk. It looked like he was kneeling down to get something.
The man was ridiculously tall definitely 7 feet. His hair was also blonde but a brighter color than Katsuki’s also it was much, much flatter.
They stared at each other.
Katsuki braced for shouting possibly even a fight. Instead the man blinked once and bowed slightly.
“Honored guest,” he said calmly, “are you here for an outfit?”
“…What.”
The tailor examined him critically. “What’s you’re wearing now Isn’t in the dress code set by the king for his son’s birthday.”
Katsuki looked down at his flannel pants. “…Tch.”
This was ridiculous but if he was visible. If this dream had rules now.
“Fine,” Katsuki muttered. “Make it quick.”
The tailor moved with astonishing speed. Measuring, pinning, draping fabric against Katsuki’s shoulders as if he’d been waiting for him.
The final result was a fitted, black suit with an orange lining that flickered like embers when he moved. He confidently went to the party.
Everyone downstairs wore white, silver, pale blues.He looked like a spark thrown into snow.
When he descended the staircase, the shift was immediate. Heads turned, whispers filled the air not hostile, just stunned. He scanned the ballroom and found him.
Shoto stood near the center, posture perfect, expression distant. Duchesses and viscountesses circled him in shimmering gowns, laughter like delicate bells.
He looked trapped, but then his eyes lifted and landed on Katsuki and everything else blurred. Shoto’s composure cracked visibly, and he excused himself mid-sentence without breaking eye contact.
Katsuki tried not to smirk. He did though but atleast he tried.
Later, after polite obligations were dodged and conversations escaped, they slipped onto the balcony outside Shoto’s chambers.
It was quiet and chilly but private.
“I detest these gatherings,” Shoto admitted, loosening the stiff collar at his throat.
“No kidding,” Katsuki scoffed. “They were circling you like vultures.”
Shoto huffed softly. “They are kind. It is not their fault.”
“It’s your dad’s.”
That earned a small, real laugh from Shoto.
Katsuki leaned against the railing.
“He treats you like livestock.”
Shoto looked out at the snow. “I am aware.”
Katsuki hesitated, then added, “I heard the maids. About marriage.” The word tasted bitter on the blonde’s tongue.
Shoto’s shoulders stiffened.
Katsuki hated the idea immediately. Hated picturing someone else at Shoto’s side. Someone chosen.
Arranged.
His chest felt tight.
“I won’t marry,” Shoto said quietly.
Katsuki looked at him dumbfounded.
“I can’t.”
“Yeah? And why’s that?”
Shoto stepped closer. “No young lady deserves to marry a man already in love with someone else.”
The world tilted. It took a full second for the words to land.
“…What.”
Shoto’s gaze didn’t waver. He moved closer still, towering slightly, breath warm in the cold air.
“Katsuki,” he murmured, voice lower than before. Not princely. Just a man in love and vulnerable “May I?”
The question hung between them like a drawn bow. Katsuki’s heart slammed against his ribs. His face burned.
“You idiot,” he muttered, voice rough. “If I didn’t want you to, I would’ve pushed you already.”
Shoto’s hand slid gently to his jaw and leaned down. Their lips met was so soft and warm. So blissfully warm against the cold air.
Katsuki felt it everywhere. The warmth of Shoto’s mouth. The steady pressure of his hands at his waist. The faint catch of Shoto’s breath when Katsuki gripped his coat.
This couldn’t be a dream. Dreams didn’t feel like this. They didn’t have weight. They didn’t have heat.
When they finally parted, foreheads resting together, Shoto exhaled softly.
“You are real,” Shoto whispered deeply, reverently.
Katsuki swallowed.
“Yeah,” he breathed back. “I am. This is real.”