Chapter Text
The cool night air felt good on Katsuki’s skin, a relief from the heat of the summer sun. It was almost enough to distract him from how stupid he felt, hugging a tree while nearly nude.
Izuku had been thoughtful enough to select a young birch, the bark relatively smooth against his exposed abdomen and chest. His eyes were closed, his focus turned inward as he tried to grasp at the slippery connection inside of him he’d come to understand was his access point to the flow that was all around them. Compared to the connection with Izuku, which ran as easily as a stream and was just as simple for him to sink into, this was a wily, stubborn beast. In his mind, it writhed and scurried like a ferret, boneless, clever and stubborn.
“You’ve got to stop fighting with it, Kacchan,” Izuku said, the amusement he felt rippling off of their bond.
“It’s fighting me!” he retorted. They must’ve had this exchange dozens of times now.
“Flow isn’t something that can be seized. You must find the resonance and match it.”
Another thing Izuku had said many times that made no fucking sense to him. Resonance? Like a bell? He stopped trying to touch the slippery flow for a moment, holding its location in his mind and taking a few deep breaths. Then, he reached out with his magic suddenly, striking it with force. He and Izuku both cried out as his touch ricocheted violently off of the flow, cleaving open his mind in a wave of pain and making him fall back onto his ass on the dirt. He clutched at his head instinctively, though there was no physical source of his pain. Izuku sat down heavily beside him.
“What in the world did you do?” he asked, wrapping his slender fingered hands gently around Katsuki’s. “I can feel only an echo but it smarts terribly.”
“The stupid fireling tried to ring it like a bell,” the fire spirit crowed. He had to speak loudly for Izuku to hear him down the bond, and the increase of perceived volume made Katsuki curse a blue streak and shake his head as if he could disperse it.
“Keep it down!” he hissed under his breath. Izuku ran his fingers through Katsuki’s hair, gently scratching the scalp, careful not to disturb Katsuki’s braids. He had redone them just this evening to prepare for the hunt and drumbeat ceremony tomorrow. Izuku didn’t really understand why the clan were so excited about the ceremony, but he respected it was important to Katsuki, which was good enough.
“It’s not a resonance like a sound,” he said, voice gentle as he soothed Katsuki with his touch. “It’s a resonance like breathing, or a heartbeat.”
“Like a drum?” he asked cautiously.
“I suppose you could make that comparison. It’s more apt than a bell, anyway.”
Katsuki tenderly reached back out to the thread of flow, extending his internal senses. He’d gotten much better at feeling around inside of his magic and himself since he’d begun working with the flame spirit, but something about the flow felt unwieldy.
“I don’t think I can hear it,” he said reluctantly, almost grumbling.
“You’ve just got to learn to listen to a different part of yourself,” Izuku said confidently. “You’ll get it.”
Katsuki wasn’t sure that he would.
“I don’t think this connection is mine to understand. I think I am trying to access your connection, and it knows that and rejects me for not being you.”
Izuku laughed, his hands moving down to massage Katsuki’s temples, making him groan softly in appreciation.
“That makes little sense. Of course it’s yours. Every living being has it. You’re just getting used to seeing it.”
“It’s because we’re bonded I can see it at all,” he argued, tilting his head to encourage where Izuku was massaging his jaw.
“You’re going to grind your teeth to dust one of these days,” he scolded, stern words made exceedingly gentle with the affection suffusing their bond, hands sure as he kneaded at the tense muscle there. “And maybe bonding with me granted you the ability to see, but that doesn’t make your connection with the flow any less yours.”
Katsuki grunted, relaxing more into Izuku’s touch as the pain in his mind fully receded.
“You’re too connected to your body,” the fire spirit said. “Tied all up in it until even I have trouble telling where your spirit ends and your body begins.”
“Isn’t that normal?” he grunted. He felt the curiosity from Izuku, so he passed along the fire spirit’s thoughts as it continued to speak.
“For your people, yes, to some extent. With you, though, and a few others in your clan, it’s on a whole other level. Enmeshed such that increasing your physical strength improves your magic, and using your magic strains your body. I think if your body were to die, your spirit would die with it instead of returning to the flow, it’s so interwoven.”
“I don’t like to talk about you dying,” Izuku protested as Katsuki translated. He appreciated the fire spirit keeping the volume at a reasonable level, though he still squirmed under the force of Izuku’s sulk.
“I’m not gonna die any time soon,” he said.
“What you’re describing sounds normal to me,” Izuku said. “Except for the part where you wouldn’t return to the flow. Wouldn’t your body just enter the flow?”
“Human bodies typically don’t,” Katsuki told him.
“They don’t?” Izuku asked, his surprise sending a wave of prickles down Katsuki’s neck. “They decay like animals?”
Katsuki turned his head to give Izuku irritated side-eye, not appreciating being compared to common beasts.
“That’s how dragons do, too. Their body returns to the earth,” Katsuki emphasized. He knew it was poetic dressing up, but it had always been a comfort to think of death in that way. Izuku’s brow furrowed.
“That doesn’t sound right. Dragons? I’ve always thought them to be as immortal as fae are.”
“Maybe their souls reincarnate into new bodies,” Katsuki suggested, flopping down onto his back and resting his head on Izuku’s lap. “I don’t fucking know.”
Izuku hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes unfocused as his mind shot out to the stars to think about this new information. Katsuki was content to let him wander in his thoughts, relieved to have his flow lesson end for the evening. Being in a pupil role had never come easily to him, especially for the rare occasions when he had difficulty absorbing the material.
“Learning to work with me was no dry tinder,” the fire spirit said. Katsuki sneered at him and settled more deeply into Izuku’s lap. “I knew you were stubborn, but I didn’t realize you could be lazy,” the spirit added, conveying looking down a nose it didn’t have at Katsuki.
Fucking a’. He knew he was being baited. Even so, the fierce pride inside him roared to life, and he closed his eyes once more, lips twisting into a disgruntled frown. He tapped at the flow inside of him, and it surprised him by not twisting away. It thrummed quietly, the life force moving through it dense. He tapped again, the vein solid under his probing touch, and once more, it didn’t slip away. Pleased, he continued to tap gently along, trying to find some sort of rhythm to match or to hear this resonance Izuku wanted him to find.
“You realize,” the fire spirit interrupted, “that you’re probing our covenant. That isn’t your connection to the flow.”
Katsuki sat up suddenly, heat rushing to his neck and ears.
“I was what?” he exclaimed.
“Kacchan? What’s wrong?” Izuku asked, startled.
“Nothing, I’m just practicing and the fire spirit’s being a shit,” he said, rubbing at his burning face. He knew Izuku could feel his embarrassment, but he knew to tread lightly around it until Katsuki was ready to talk.
“Why don’t we call it a night? There’s a lot going on tomorrow,” Izuku suggested, rising to his feet. He still moved like his limbs were too heavy sometimes, used to a lifetime of gravity-defying wings.
“Let’s sleep out here,” Katsuki said. “It’s too hot in the den with the pack.”
“They sulk when we sleep away from the pile.”
“So let them sulk. Let’s be comfortable and alone,” Katsuki said, coaxing Izuku with feelings of comfort and affection through their bond.
“You’ll also sulk when you’re covered in morning dew,” Izuku warned, even as he settled in the soft layer of fallen leaves and grass with Katsuki and curled up against him. They had to sleep less tangled up than they preferred in the summer or they woke overly sweaty and dehydrated, but out of the hut in the cooler night air afforded them more skinship.
“I do not fucking sulk,” Katsuki protested, drawing Izuku closer, tucking a knee between his legs and resting his chin on Izuku’s curls. He made an amused noise of confirmation, and then their shared feelings of safety and comfort drew one other down into rest quickly.
They were woken by Denki, who grabbed Izuku by the back of his tunic and flung him into the air and onto his back. Katsuki reacted with fire and explosions, which Denki dodged awkwardly as he tried not to crash into any of the nearby trees. Izuku scolded him, but so many giggles broke through his words, Katsuki knew the stupid dragon would take it as praise.
“Don’t encourage the thunderstorm reject,” Katsuki grumbled, grimacing uncomfortably as he wicked moisture off of his arms and legs. Izuku was right. He fucking hated waking up damp, though this was still better than the sweat of his clingy pack mates.
“I’m not! He’s been very rude!” Izuku said before releasing another peal of giggles. “Denki, I’m surprised you’re up this early. The sun hasn’t broken the horizon.”
“Eijirou will already be awake. He probably kicked him out to make sure you two would have plenty of time to get out to the northern fields and back before the ceremony.”
“Really? What for?”
“To hunt for the celebration meal tonight,” Katsuki said, twisting to stretch his torso.
“That’s why you didn’t grumble when I told you I’d be in the fields most of the day.” Katsuki turned away, bending over to grasp at his ankles and stretch out the backs of his legs. Denki made a wheezing hiss that knew meant he was being laughed at.
“I do not grumble,” he said, thought it was unconvincing in his own ears. He would never try to control Izuku, but he did like it better when they were near one another, even if they were doing separate work.
“Of course not,” Izuku said sweetly, sliding back down Denki’s back to finish dressing and retrieve his satchel. “You are the picture of stoicism.” He stood on tiptoe to kiss Katsuki’s cheek.
“Little shit,” he hissed under his breath, but wrapped an arm around Izuku and drew him in for a firm kiss on the mouth. There were things he missed about Izuku’s smaller form, but he wouldn’t trade being able to kiss him for anything. “Go take care of our land,” he said, swatting him gently on the behind as he went. He watched him gracefully climb up Denki’s back and settle in, already digging his notebook out to review before the dragon had even taken off. His face split into a grin as he turned to walk back into the village.
“What are we hunting today?” Eijiro asked, his teeth sharp in his mouth. “Gopher?” he asked hopefully.
“If you find one, eat it,” Katsuki said, pulling on leather greaves and trussing them around his calves. “We’re after ibex today. Females or wethers, if we’re lucky.” Adult male ibex were smelly and gamey, much harder to cook.
“Why hunt, then? Why not slaughter some from the herd?”
Katsuki stood, cuffing his friend over the ear.
“We need them for milk, idiot. Plus, the brats have given half of them names. Better to hunt wild and keep the domesticated ones. You dragons can always eat them when they get old, anyway.”
“True,” Eijiro said cheerfully. He was dressed in loose trousers, shirtless like Katsuki was. He didn’t bother with additional protection. “Are we waiting on anyone else?”
“Only us for our hunting party. Nobody else can keep up well enough,” he said, meeting Eiji’s eyes as matching grins spread over their faces. They had hunted and fought well together since they were small, and had long since stopped receiving challenges for sport or skirmishes because they would always dominate.
“Let’s go feed the clan!” Eiji said with an excited whoop. Katsuki let him be loud. Better that he get it out of his system before they had to be still and silent as they cornered their prey.
They set off, the sun still hidden behind the tallest peaks of the mountains that surrounded their home, casting long shadows. The clan was stirring, other hunting parties setting out, and the preparations for the ceremony this evening began early. They walked out into the rocks until the sun was well over the horizon. Eijiro kept up chatter while they hiked, though he instinctively softened his voice as they moved towards where their prey would be likely to gather. The day was already warming quickly, promising a comfortably warm night. Good for dancing. He looked forward to it, and showing Izuku his clans’ communal dances.
“I wish Mina could have stayed longer,” Eijirou lamented for the hundredth time that season. The fire elemental snickered at that, unsympathetic.
“She has responsibilities at home,” he said, eyes scanning what he could see of the next outcrop. “If you want her to stay here, ask her to mate with you.”
Eijiro gasped, then slapped a hand over his mouth when the sound carried further than he’d intended. Katsuki turned his head to glare at him, and Eijiro winced apologetically. They continue to move in silence for a while, Eijiro staying guiltily silent until the words tumbled out of him.
“It’s much too soon to ask,” he said quietly, disappointment lacing his tone.
“What does that even fucking mean? If you know, you know.”
“I don’t want to scare her.”
Katsuki sucked his teeth in annoyance.
“Izuku’ll come around. I don’t give a shit he hasn’t agreed yet. I know what I need to do to win, that’s all that matters.”
“That’s a good point,” he said thoughtfully. “Would you help me write a letter to her tomorrow?”
“You’ll be hungover, but sure.”
“Really? I was expecting you to be like, don’t be a coward, tell her to her face.”
Katsuki shrugged, then shushed him, gesturing to where an outcropping some distance away met the sky, silhouetting a small group of Ibex. He was a bit shit at keeping secrets, and what Eijiro didn’t know was that he’d have the chance to tell Mina in person as soon as tonight. She was coming to visit for the drumbeat ceremony, and planning to stay through the harvest.
They remained silent as they continued forward, using whatever cover was available to them. Ibex would retreat up impossibly steep cliffs when they experienced hunting pressure, which didn’t make them inaccessible, but meant risking creating landslides or damaging the rock face while in pursuit of them. It was much easier to surround them and chase them into the other hunter, leading to a swift, brutal take down of whatever unfortunate animal ended up within arms’ reach.
Katsuki spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and ducked lower, sharply gesturing that Eijiro should do the same. He needn’t have bothered, as he found him crouched low nearby, and already working his way downwind of the small group of adolescent ibex. Katsuki quickly climbed around the outcrop, scaling his way up the side of the mountain with the practiced skill of someone born to them. He scattered some fabric saturated with the musk from a brown bear over the top of the ridge, further funneling the ibex’s escape route. When he was ready, he made a convincing woodpecker call as a sign.
Eijiro leapt to life, letting out a roar. Quieter in his humanoid throat, but no less fierce, the sound rippled its way against the surrounding ridges. The ibex startled immediately, a few letting out terrified cries, and they began nimbly leaping up the cliff face. Eijiro gave chase, his eyes too large for his head and slitted like a reptile’s, pupils darting between the frantically running prey. His claws sank into the rock easily, kicking up clouds of newly created dust and debris.
Katsuki’s heart thumped in eager anticipation of victory as the first ibex scrambled over the fine edge of the cliff. His arm lashed out, and he’d slit the throat of one and stunned another with a concussive flash from his palm. He leapt on a third, hands wrapping around it’s skull and twisting viciously to break its’ neck before sharp hooves or recently formed horns could eviscerate him. Eijiro’s strong, half-scaled body came up over the ridge and he punctured the stunned ibex’s skull with a thick claw, dropping it in a moment.
They stood panting for a few moments, the adrenaline of the hunt making Katsuki feel powerful and clever. He wiped a hand down his bare torso, smearing the spray of blood there. He grimaced.
“None in your braids,” Eijiro reassured him, the sound elongated and slithering in his mouth. “Kill more?”
“This is all we can carry,” Katsuki said, picking up the bundle of long, sturdy poles he’d brought with him from where he’d leaned them against the mountain. He tied his ibex to it with a leather cord.
“Could go full dragon,” Eijiro offered. It was tempting. It would lead to more exhilaration as he dominated with his favorite hunter, but he shoved it aside. The full moon had just passed. If Eiji turned now, he’d be stuck in dragon form for weeks, unable to talk to Mina.
“This is more than enough. We’re bringing back enough for our pack ten times over.”
Eijiro nodded, taking deep breaths to calm his claws back into his flesh, and secured his two prizes to carry. Katsuki glanced up at the sky with satisfaction. They’d be back in time to help with afternoon chores and receive maximum attention for their bounty. His chest puffed at the thought as they picked their way back down the rocks.
In truth, as they returned to the village reeking of goat’s blood, the members of the clan were far too busy taking care of the daily chores and ceremony preparations to take more than a passing notice.
“When you’re done skinning and cleaning them, put the carcass on the blankets by the smokehouse. We’ll decide from the total daily catch what to put on the spits and what to smoke,” they were instructed by a harried elder with two grandchildren chasing at her ankles. “Save what blood that you can in the empty rice jars.” She turned back to the rambunctious brats, threatening to use her magic to send them to sleep until the next day.
Katsuki grunted his acknowledgment as he and Eijiro continued past her to the smokehouse, located just outside the main part of town. Pack dens were scattered throughout the range, but communal spaces were clustered in the valley, near where a river cut through the earth. They finished their messy work efficiently, handing the skins off to the tanner. Eijiro kept the horns to add to his growing collection of trinkets he was hoarding to fashion into a mating gift for Mina.
They bathed down river, not bothering to go to the communal bathhouse with its heated water. The river ran cool, kept chill by snow melt from even taller peaks, but it felt good after their physical exertions. Eijiro’s skin rippled between flesh and scales as he shivered in delight as he scrubbed the dried, flaking blood off of his body. Katsuki soaked and scrubbed his summer linen trousers as well, which were due for a wash. At Eijiro’s request, Katsuki took out his knife and carefully touched up Eijiro’s haircut. The top and back were long, but the sides were shaved close. It made an impressive crest of spikes that cascaded down his back, black fading into fire red, much like his scales. They lay out to dry after, their nearly nude forms soaking up the midday sun.
Izuku announced his return with an impressive wolf whistle. Katsuki stretched languidly, unashamed as he displayed himself for his lover. Eijiro rolled to stand up, pulling on his trousers to be respectful.
“No need to cover up on my account,” he said teasingly, crouching down next to Katsuki and running a hand affectionately over his abdomen, teasingly brushing his fingertips over a hipbone. Katsuki’s sudden flush of arousal was met with coy amusement through their bond.
“It’s true,” Katsuki said, catching Izuku’s wrist before it could get more adventurous. “All fairies are perverts.”
“All the more reason to cover up,” Eijiro said wryly, “because if Izuku is a fairy pervert, and I get caught in the crossfire, it’s my corpse the clan will find in a million tiny pieces.”
“You know me well,” Katsuki said, batting away Izuku’s mischievous hand once more before rising to pull on his own clothing. “Come on, Eijiro, let’s get off our asses. Izuku, you with us?”
“I need to report in to your mother, then I’m to help in the dye house.”
“Don’t stay too late,” Katsuki said, wrapping up his armor in a neat bundle. “We need to get you ready for the ceremony.”
Resigned annoyance came down their bond, raspy and dry like dead leaves. Izuku hated being told what to do, but this was important.
“I am only there to observe. Who cares what I look like?”
“You might get a drumbeat, friend! First fairy ever, but that’d be awesome. You’ve already done so much for the clan.”
“I didn’t think that was a possibility.” Katsuki’s eyebrows rose in response to the prickly sensation the thought created in Izuku. He wasn’t sure what that emotion was. He’d have to talk to Izuku about it later. “I’m not dragonkin.”
“You don’t have to be, to have a drumbeat.” For some it just wasn’t in the Matriarch’s plan. “Outsiders who have pack bonded or mated into the clan have been blessed with a drumbeat.”
Izuku frowned, the prickly, rolling feeling growing stronger, making Katsuki rub at his chest to ease it.
“Well, I’m not mated,” he said.
“Yet,” Katsuki muttered. Izuku shoved at his shoulder in response, making Katsuki stumble into Eijiro with a laughing growl. His fairy was still smaller than he was, but he was solid and strong. He pushed hard on the smug approval, trying to flood Izuku with it. Based on the pretty blush that spread behind his beautiful freckles, he’d succeeded.
They parted ways, Katsuki splitting off to put his armor away and retrieve a few things from his chest in the pack’s den. His ceremonial cloak and jewelry was with his mother, who refused to release them before he’d ever asked, as many were family heirlooms. He didn’t mind; their den was on the smaller side and storage was at a premium. He took a moment to tidy the space, grumbling in annoyance at the mess his pack mates frequently left behind. Izuku was just as bad as any of them, unfortunately, though he would clean when the mess was pointed out to him. He just got distracted by chasing his endless curiosity.
He set out then for Yagi’s home. Yagi hadn’t chosen a pack even in retirement, always conscientious about the power dynamics his choice might upset, and so he lived alone near the communal areas. On the way, he spotted a few folks braiding one another’s hair in the complex patterning often favored by drumbeat hopefuls. It wasn’t guaranteed they would be called tonight, but better to be prepared and humble with heart and mind open should it happen. Katsuki hadn’t done well receiving the guidance of the Matriarch, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. He knew the drumbeat of every member of their clan, to know if everyone was fulfilling their potential and, more importantly, their divine mission for the clan.
Outside of his own purposes, he was also responsible for learning them for Yagi, who would be sure to fall asleep shortly after the feast, missing much of the ceremony itself. He was taking well to his retirement from being a warrior, sticking his nose into everyone’s business and offering advice. It wasn’t always good advice, but it was always helpful to have people in the clan who knew what was going on with everyone. Not everyone tolerated his interference graciously, but Yagi had a thick skin and was just as unbothered as the detractors were bothered.
He walked in the open doorway when he arrived. The space was small, on Yagi’s insistence and over the protest of the clan. His mentor sat cross-legged on his pallet, his face serious as he conversed with the toddler in his lap.
“Your father is very tall, but I don’t think he would fit in your house if he were as tall as one of the great pines.”
The brat whipped her head back and forth, sending her tangled curls flying into Yagi’s face. He wiped away the hairs clinging to his lips and beard stubble as he continued the gentle debated. Katsuki watched for a while, amused, when a flare of sudden, sharp emotion flooded his chest through his bond with Izuku. His hand covered the space immediately, and he stepped back through the door, head turned in Izuku’s direction. There was no commotion near the dye house, so after a few long moments and no further distress came down the line, Katsuki reluctantly let it go. He’d been told in no uncertain terms in the early days of their bond that Izuku didn’t want Katsuki to come running every time he had a powerful emotion. Didn’t mean he had to like it.
The toddler ran by on wobbly baby legs. He moved to stop her, but she threw herself against her aunt’s legs, who had come up behind him.
“There you are, sun drop. Did you enjoy terrorizing Yagi?”
“She was delightful. Already so opinionated!” Yagi had moved to stand next to Katsuki in the doorway, hand resting on the frame as a poor substitute for his cane. “A strong Storm Master rider in the making.”
The child’s aunt smiled politely.
“We’ll see. Come along, we need to go help your mother with the currants.” She hoisted the brat onto her hip, who turned and made a sloppy motion of affectionate farewell at Yagi. Katsuki leaned over to grab Yagi’s cane, shoving it into his hand as soon as the child had turned back towards her aunt to babble about whatever the fuck children liked.
“I don’t need my cane just to loiter about my house,” Yagi said.
“Maybe not,” Katsuki said, ushering him out the door. “But you need it to walk to the Maker’s house.”
“Why am I going to Mitsuki’s?”
“To get all dressed up for the drumbeat ceremony.”
Yagi’s face sobered. A loaded silence hung between them, though the clan center was busy around them.
“You’re still you,” he said.
“I suppose I am.”
Mitsuki was in full boss mode when they arrived. She and Masaru had always had a good eye for beauty, so half the fucking clan was piled into their home, seeking advice, or help with braiding, or finishing up last-minute beading, or whatever the fuck they needed help with. The night of the drumbeat ceremony was a celebration, and folks wanted to look their best. It had also become common to start up new romantic relationships on this night, full of finery and alcohol and destiny as it was. Excited tension filled the house, as did the smell of sweaty bodies. Katsuki wrinkled his nose and opened a window shutter more widely.
“You seen Izuku?” he asked when he managed to get Mitsuki’s attention.
“The Bane’s Fen contingent arrived, so once he’s done at the dye house, I’m sure he’ll go check in on them.”
Katsuki bristled at that.
“How the fuck is he going to get ready without-“
“Without you? I’m sure he’ll manage, dust devil, calm down and go help Yagi. He won’t be able to manage the undergarments and belts with how he can barely twist at the waist anymore. I’ll bring you your things in a bit. I need to rescue your father from that newly minted dragon rider who keeps trying to seduce him.”
She thrust a pile of garments and ceremonial jewelry in his arms and strode away, deaf to his protests. He pushed down the bond, trying to check on Izuku, but couldn’t sense anything beyond the steady hum of their connection. He was too far away and too calm for more information. That would have to suffice as confirmation he was well enough, but Katsuki still resented that he wouldn’t be able to help prepare his future mate for his first drumbeat ceremony. He still intended to take his mate anywhere in the world that he fancied for as long as he wished to travel, so who knew when they would be here in Blizzard’s Carry for another one.
He shoved his brooding aside when Yagi hissed in discomfort. In his distraction, Katsuki had tightened the ties of the loose pants that served the base of Yagi’s ceremonial costume too tight, agitating his hip muscles. They were always strained from compensating for his weakened left side and thus required nearly as much delicacy as the scarred crater that marred his abdomen. Katsuki grunted in apology, loosening the tie and repositioning it higher on his waist. The belt would help hold it up later. The pant legs wouldn’t flow as well with the higher seated ties, but function over form every fucking time.
Over that, he helped Yagi pull on the tunic, again aiding with the ties in the back that helped fit the neck and waist more snugly against his form. Over that went the thicker embroidered tunic that came down to mid-thigh, brightly colored with a cerulean blue base with red and yellow solid trim. This was a new set of clothing, tailored for his smaller size. It had been many years since he could fill out the set made for him when he first earned his title, but it wasn’t until after the blight that Yagi or the clan had been ready to admit he would never fill them out again.
Finally, he helped Yagi with his beaded cuffs. The round beaded hat, the most ostentatious piece of his ceremonial wear, was left aside for later. It was heavy and warm, and the ceremony was still some time off. When Yagi sat to rest his aching hip while they waited, Katsuki sat with him, watching their clans members prepare around them.
Once he saw past the nervous, horny excitement, it was easy to see the sombre faces, those with more complicated feelings about the evening. This was the first drumbeat ceremony since the blight had ravaged their village. Many hoped they would inherit the drumbeat of loved ones who had passed, wishing to fulfill the purpose that had been cut short. Others already had drumbeats of their own, but wore grim expressions or openly cried as they donned pieces of clothing their family members had worn, or simply missed them and ached for their presence to share another year of tradition with them.
This was not the first time he appreciated how lucky he had been. This drumbeat ceremony, he had his parents, his mentor, and his mate to celebrate with. His future mate. What the fuck ever. Izuku was his, when the titles happened were irrelevant.
“It has been hard,” Yagi suddenly said, his voice soft. “Even if I couldn’t use it often, it was always comforting to know it was there.”
Katsuki nodded stiffly. It had turned out this way, with many of those who had been infected with the blight. The sleepy fuck from Bane’s Fen had speculated the only way the flower could save the body was to sever the magic and thus remove the infection. The refrain that being without magic was better than being dead head become common. Katsuki hoped that was true. The Storm Master clan’s magic was such a part of them and their bodies that they were often spoken of as one and the same. In his native tongue, power, self, and magic shared the same word. Imagining being without the magic he’d had since he was born was a difficult one.
“You’re still All Might,” Katsuki said after the feeling of loss washed through his body and he was sure he could keep his voice steady. “Your past isn’t overwritten with this. Your worthiness isn’t tied to knocking fucking mountaintops over with one ridiculous punch.” He gently nudged Yagi in the side with his elbow. Yagi chuckled, the hint of a familiar boom always at the edges of his voice.
“That fairy has been good for you.”
“Yes, but also, maybe it was just fucking dying that made me all soft,” he argued.
“Maybe,” Yagi said. “I’m grateful you didn’t stay dead.”
“Me, too.” The extent of Katsuki’s sacrifice was largely a secret, known only by those closest to him. He had hesitated in telling Denki, worried he wouldn’t be able to help running his mouth, but the static scaleball had surprised him with how seriously he’d listened to his story and how fiercely he had hugged him after. The blight had carved some hidden depths into his lighthearted friend.
“Katsuki!” His mother called, emerging from another room. “I need your help.”
“Coming, hag,” he said amicably, patting Yagi on the shoulder as he stood. He wove through the groups of people in various states of dress and allowed his mother to grab him by the arm and yank him along to his parents’ bedroom. The chest of family ceremonial wear and other heirlooms were kept here. Most of the contents were spread out over the bed. She picked up a beaded collar she favored, carefully laying it in his hands.
“See here? Some of the wire work has come loose. I need you to repair it so I can wear this tonight.”
“More fucking notice would have been good. I won’t know how bad it is until I get some beads off. Might need a lot of repair.”
“If it does, I’ll wear something else. Just fix it if you can.” She thumped him on the back and hurried back out of the room. He huffed his annoyance at her, but examined the collar, gently pulling apart beaded sections to identify the pattern. Once he’d determined the best plan, he fetched his father’s tools - his mother had never been one for complicated, slow-progressing work - and got to opened the collar, stowing the freed beads in a series of tiny bowls made for just that purpose.
He was pleased to find the damaged wire wasn’t bad, just some oxidization and wear that was bound to happen when something was worn against the skin. Nothing to worry about. Their jewelry was art, but it should be worn, or what was the fucking point? He carefully linked a new length of wire to the existing pattern, twisting it around itself, then pressing it tight between his fingers and coaxing heat into his hands with the aid of the fire elemental, softening and fusing the metal. He smoothed the liquid metal up and down the wire until it was as smooth as he could make it. As it cooled, he took the time to tighten and adjust other parts of the collar. Finally, he returned the beads to their original pattern, then clamped it off, weaving the end of the wire in through the set beads to hide and secure it.
When Mitsuki returned, her eyes glowed with fierce pride as she tied the collar around her neck.
“You have the best of both of us in you,” she said, turning this way and that to catch the beads in the late afternoon light.
“Damn fucking right,” Katsuki said.
“Unfortunately, you’ve also got the worst of me,” she lamented. “Now get dressed. It’s about time to go escort the elders.”