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For someone whose mornings usually began with a predictable rhythm – wake, scowl at the sunlight, threaten the alarm clock, shower in water hot enough to peel skin – Bakugou Katsuki should have sensed that today was primed for catastrophe. Six in the morning, and he was already annoyed at nothing in particular. The sun was still too bright. The birds were too cheerful. Mineta was alive somewhere. It was a bad omen all around. But he dismissed it in the same way he dismissed most things that dared invade his mental space: with irritation and a muttered insult.
He did not expect the omen to manifest as a goose.
And then, Katsuki’s day began with a scream.
His scream.
It all started when he stepped out of the dorm, still zipping up his jacket, when a sharp metallic screech ripped through the air in the courtyard. He whipped his head around in time to see a goose. Not a cute farm goose. No, this one was large, white, beady-eyed, and radiating murderous purpose. Its webbed feet pounded the pavement like a war drum heralding carnage.
Katsuki froze for a split second, then frowned back at it, “The hell you looking at, poultry?”
The goose honked once – deep, resonant, authoritative. Then it charged toward him with its wings spread wide.
Katsuki’s soul left his body.
“OH HELL–!”
The blonde turned and ran. Pure-running-for-his-life sprinting.
Sparks crackling faintly at his fingertips. Survival instincts, refined over years of fighting for his own life and some childhood years in his grandparents farm, screamed at him in one clear command: Run, explode, don’t get pecked, and for the love of everything holy, never let it touch your legs.
He had always been confident in his speed, but right now his faith in his own ability was crumbling – because why the hell was that goose's step still gaining on him?
He zig-zagged through the courtyard, leaping over benches and trash cans with the agility of a hero who fought in war. Every time he thought he had created a safe distance, the goose mirrored him with a terrifying, almost preternatural speed. How could something shaped like that move like that? It shouldn’t be physically possible! He blasted the ground once, twice, with controlled explosions designed to scare, but the goose didn’t flinch; it only adjusted its trajectory, honking as though mocking his attempts.
“Are you fucking serious?!” he shouted, spinning midair, blasting another shot at it. Sparks danced dangerously close to its wings, but still, the bird ducked and pivoted.
Bakugou Katsuki had fought villains, explosions, rabid fangirls, and that one cursed microwave in the dorm kitchen – but nothing, nothing, prepared him for this feathered demon currently honking at him like he just killed its family.
“Why the fuck are you chasing me?!” Katsuki roared as he sprinted across the U.A. courtyard at full speed, backpack flapping wildly.
Honk.
“Stop honking at me, you omelette!”
Honk. Honk.
Students surrounded. Phones emerged from pockets like weapons of mass humiliation. Mina screamed in delight. Kirishima cheered like Katsuki was the protagonist in an action movie instead of a student being chased by a psychotic waterfowl. Sero said something like, Dude, that goose is gonna end his bloodline. and Katsuki vowed to murder him later.
The entire courtyard became a chaotic battlefield, full of feathers and Katsuki’s furious roars.
The goose honked again, a honk that vibrated through the soles of his shoes and into his very soul. That honk might have meant something in a normal world. Maybe it was a greeting. Or a warning. He slowed down, thinking of stopping eventually to ask for peace and find out why he was being chased, but then the goose lunged without warning, biting viciously into his ankle.
“OH FU–that’s it.”
If a creature chased him, it was a villain. If it charged him, it was an attack. And if it kept going after multiple explosions, it must be a Nomu. He was allowed to fight back against an attacking Nomu, and that didn’t make him an animal killer.
Although, if the rage didn’t overtake him, then he might notice that It wasn’t biting him to hurt him. Instead, it tugged. Rudely, but it was trying to tow him somewhere.
“Alright, you wanna fight? LET’S FIGHT!”
The goose did not take it as a warning. It took it as a challenge. And honked louder. This particular honk radiated I will end you in ways he had never encountered outside of his worst villain fights. It charged again, neck stretched forward like a biological lance.
Katsuki actually aimed this time, palm snapping up. He muttered, jaw tightening, "Time to put you down, you feathered psychopath.”
He aimed a concentrated blast at the goose. The feathers ruffled indignantly as he formed the shot in his hands, preparing a strike that would end this nonsense once and for all.
“AP SHOT!”
To his surprise, the goose dodged effortlessly, twisting in midair with a grace that defied logic.
“You little–!” Katsuki shouted, spinning to blast it from another angle, but the goose leapt again, landing on a nearby trash can. Katsuki growled so hard his jaw ached. He ignited both hands in one massive, concentrated explosion, aiming a short-range blast directly at the bird. Flames erupted, smoke swirled, and for a moment, he thought the goose had finally faltered.
It did not. Not even a single strand was damaged.
The blonde’s face contorted, rage and disbelief mingling into a bark, “DIE!”
He blasted again, and launched a series of sharp, controlled explosions designed to pin the creature in a corner. As the goose backed into the corner of the wall to dodge his attacks, he stepped closer and let out an evil laugh.
“So long, Shitty Bird.”
When he about to Howitzer Impact the thing in front of him into rotisserie, a panicked voice shouted:
“Bakugou!! Please don’t hurt it!!”
Koda stuck out from behind a planter, waving both hands frantically.
Katsuki paused mid-explosion, "What?! It’s attacking me!”
Koda skidded to a stop, panting hard, "N-no! No! It’s–! It’s–it’s not attacking...it’s trying to guide you!”
“Guide me? Guide me WHERE? To my fucking funeral?!” he barked.
Koda reached the spot where the goose stood and held it gently to calm it down. With his quirk, he managed to soothe the beast. He patted its feathers and attempted to start a conversation with it, “It said it’s a, um…a goose of guidance. When someone is near their soulmate, one appears and…um…chases them. To lead them there…”
Katsuki blinked once.
Twice.
Then shrieked, “Then why is it chasing me?!”
The goose honked as if offended by the question. Koda looked at him like he was an idiot. The boy said nervously, "...I think it wants you to…meet your soulmate.”
A shade of green flashed in his thoughts along with a shade of pink on his cheeks, but he already shook that away as quickly as it came. It can’t be him. He has a girlfriend already.
Izuku has a girlfriend already.
He didn’t have a brilliant observation skill for nothing. Just a few months ago, all the time he spent admiring Izuku’s beautiful smile, was also spent watching that smile beaming at Round Face. He had known it was going to end up like this. When she had been nothing but a good friend, a fucking angel even, while Katsuki had only pushed and hurt him.
Green eyes too gorgeous, just to sparkle at Round Face. Hair too fluffy, just to be ruffled by Round Face. Freckles too cute, just to be rubbed by Half and Half (wait, what the fuck was he doing there?) and Round Face. Oh look, shade of blush spread on there too, for her!
Fucking. Round. Face.
But what could he do, when they looked so ideal together? Now, every time he looked at Izuku, love tore at his chest – how perfect he was, how strong, how painfully kind – while he had to watch him lean on Round Face, laugh with her, share the warmth Katsuki had always wanted to give. Like a soulmate.
Too late, wasn’t it? And he was forced to watch from the sidelines. It was safer this way. It was quieter. It was unbearably lonely, sharp stings were here and there, but it was bearable.
Until now.
The goose wanted to take him to his soulmate. His actual, fated, cosmic-match soulmate.
So this homicidal poultry unit is pushing him into an extra’s arms?
Katsuki felt the blood drain from his face, then rush back twice as hot.
Of course this nightmare wasn’t over. Of course some mystic, feathered menace had been sent by the universe to drag him into a future he didn’t want.
And suddenly, his heart clenched.
Green – everywhere.
Green so vivid it felt like breathing it in. Green so warm it seared itself into memory. Green so close it swallowed the whole world.
Katsuki stood there, chest heaving. Koda’s gentle murmuring still floated in the air, translating the bird’s intentions with all the earnestness of a saint who didn’t understand he was delivering bad news.
He didn’t want a soulmate. Not if the universe said it wasn’t…
Katsuki’s breath shook. Not visibly, of course – he would rather die than letting Koda see that – but deep in his chest where he kept all the stupid, dangerous feelings he’d spent months burying. The truth rose like a bruise swelling: he didn’t want anyone else. He didn’t want some fated stranger. He didn’t want a cosmic pairing he had never asked for.
He only wanted Izuku.
Even if Izuku loved someone else. Even if Izuku was with Round Face. Even if Katsuki had ruined his chances years ago. Even if fate itself screamed that it wasn’t meant to be. Katsuki would rather love him quietly, painfully, alone – than be chained to someone who wasn’t him.
Katsuki squared his shoulders, "No,” he growled, not to Koda, but to the goose still resting arrogantly.
The goose blinked.
Katsuki hissed, “I said NO, you damn oversized pigeon.”
And then – because the raw truth of it burned too much for him to stand still – he ran. Bolted, actually. A full sprint, explosions in his palms. Koda called after him in alarm, but Katsuki didn’t hear anything beyond the roaring in his ears and the pounding rhythm of a heart trying to outrun fate.
A beat later, the goose shrieked. And launched after him.
Feathers flapped. Furious honks. Katsuki’s shoes pounded the ground, dirt kicking up in frantic sparks as he pushed himself harder, faster, refusing – absolutely refusing to be dragged into a destiny he never wanted.
Not when his heart already belonged to someone. Not when he had already made his choice, even if it meant losing.
Behind him, the goose’s cry grew louder.
Katsuki yelled over his shoulder, “I said I'm not going with you!”
The goose answered with a deafening honk that absolutely sounded like You are!
And the chase began anew. Bakugou Katsuki attempted to out-sprint the very forces of destiny, powered solely by heartbreak, rage, and a love he refused to give up.
He pushed, squeezed through the crowd. The honks closed up on him.
“Get out my fucking way! Move, move, damn extra!”
Students shrieked and scattered as Katsuki barreled past, shoved through a crowd of first-years who yelped and parted like curtains. When he burst past the last of the crowd and finally got a glimpse of light and freedom, only to come face-to-face with him.
Midoriya Izuku.
Standing on the walkway with that ridiculously yellow big backpack. A notebook in one hand, the other hand brushing unruly curls from his eyes as he read. Completely oblivious. Completely unprepared.
Completely beautiful.
The green-haired only looked up when the blast made too much noise. His eyes were wide at the scene in front of him.
“Ka-Kacchan?!” Izuku shouted as Katsuki rocketed toward him, "Is that a–goose?!”
“Izuku move!”
He tried to pivot away, blasting sideways. But the goose suddenly flapped its wings, took flight, and slammed – yes, body-slammed – into Katsuki’s back with the full force of a cannonball.
Katsuki launched forward like a kicked football. He stumbled violently.
And crashed right into Izuku.
Izuku caught him, barely, both of them staggering and falling to the ground. Katsuki’s face landed inches from Izuku’s shoulder, breath stuck in his throat, pride in shambles.
Silence.
Death silence.
Because the goose had stopped. And nudged lightly at Katsuki’s leg.
The universe couldn’t possibly be this stupid.
Katsuki felt heat explode up his neck, felt the tremor in his own hands where they clutched Izuku’s shoulders, felt the dizzying realization, and how much it terrified him.
Because of that, he reacted like someone whose emotional wiring had been set on fire.
He shoved Izuku away.
Izuku stumbled, blinking in startled confusion, reaching up as if unsure whether to help or not.
Katsuki didn’t wait. He bolted. Like an absolute coward, he spun on his heel and sprinted across the courtyard with frantic desperation, “Nope! Nope, I'm not doing this!” he yelled as he launched himself over a bench, "I’m not–no–absolutely not–”
The screech came back behind him. Izuku stood frozen, completely stunned, still holding the air where Katsuki had been a moment ago.
“Kacchan…?” he managed weakly.
Katsuki didn’t hear him. He was already halfway across the courtyard, explosions crackling defensively in his palms. Sweat clung to his temples; panic made his breathing sharp and ragged.
“Stay back!” he roared over his shoulder, "You already did your jo–Stop ramming me into him!”
The goose disagreed furiously. It honked like a wrathful deity and kept up with him, wings beating, beak pointed. Katsuki ran harder. He tried zigzags. He tried sudden stops. He tried sliding under a picnic table like he was in a military operation.
Nothing worked.
The goose swooped around obstacles like it had GPS. He didn’t even realize the goose had begun herding him again – angling left, cutting him off, driving him in a perfectly cruel arc–
Straight back to Izuku. Who hadn’t moved an inch.
He stood there, notebook forgotten on the ground, eyes huge, mouth dropped, looking like he had just witnessed a myth take place in real time.
“Ka-Kacchan,” Izuku stammered, hands cup around his mouth and shouted to Katsuki, “I think the goose...um...wants you to come this way?”
“I know what it wants, nerd! I'm refusing!”
Katsuki’s heart rammed violently in his chest.
“Stay there!” he barked at Izuku who was about to take a step, pointing frantically at him while still running, "Don’t come closer!”
Izuku blinked, "Why–?”
Because Izuku wasn’t his. Because Izuku belonged to someone else now. Someone deserving. Someone kind. Not someone who yelled and broke things and didn’t know how to hold gentle things without crushing them. Not him. Because he would rather swallow glass than interfere with Izuku’s happiness, even if that happiness was with someone else.
But Katsuki didn’t say any of that.
The goose shrieked – one long, deafening honk that declared: You are going to be intimate with your soulmate whether you like it or not!
Katsuki wheezed, “No I’m not!”
But the goose herded him tighter and tighter…
…until he was running in a circle around Izuku. A literal, humiliating orbit.
Izuku slowly spun in place, watching Katsuki sprint past him again and again, eyes wide in absolute shock. Katsuki yelled at the goose the whole time.
“HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”
Honk.
“STOP PUSHING ME!”
Honk.
“I’M NOT EVEN EMOTIONALLY PREPARED FOR THIS!”
Honk.
“I SWEAR TO GOD, I’LL COOK YOU!”
HOOOONK!
Another body-slammed. He crashed into Izuku hard – but this time Izuku was ready; he caught him, steady arms wrapping around his sides, grounding him. They staggered together, chest to chest, Izuku’s breath warm against his neck.
It hurt.
It hurt how good it felt.
More than any goose bite ever could.
Katsuki ripped himself away like he’d been burned, "No! This is wrong!”
Izuku blinked at him, wide, green eyes full of bewilderment, "Kacchan? What–why is that goose–?”
Katsuki snapped, louder than necessary to keep from trembling, “That bird thinks we’re soulmates!”
Izuku’s face went red, "W-what?!”
Katsuki yelled, "It’s a soulmate goose or whatever crap!”
Izuku’s jaw dropped.
Katsuki threw an arm out like a shield, "But it’s WRONG. You have a girlfriend!”
Silence.
Absolute, stunned silence.
Izuku looked physically offended by the statement, "A...I have a what?”
“A girlfriend!” Katsuki repeated, heat boiling up his neck, “you and Round Face are–are–” He gestured incoherently, "You know! Together!”
Izuku’s face went pink. Katsuki’s heart dropped. Knew it. His voice cracked low, nearly inaudible, "I wasn’t gonna get in the way.”
Izuku’s breath hitched, "In the way of what?”
“Your happiness,” Katsuki muttered. His hands curled helplessly at his sides, "If you were with her, then–then that was it. End of story.”
“K-Kacchan–what?! No! No, we’re not dating!”
Katsuki’s eyes twitched, "You’re always together!”
Izuku sputtered, “We TRAIN together! I train with you all the time too!”
“You WHISPER!”
“We talk about HOMEWORK!? I even came to your room for homework!”
“You SHARE SNACKS!”
“She steals them because she forgets hers! Didn’t you do it too?”
“You BLUSH!”
“That’s just–just my FACE, Kacchan!! I blush at everything!”
“Wait what? Why didn't I know about this? A-And! You WRITE something to her too! In class!”
“That–!”
Izuku suddenly stammered. The pink shade gradually turned to red. Katsuki was too fucking busy to stared at it to notice Izuku had held out a folded sheet of paper. Crinkled at the edges. Slightly smudged in ink. Katsuki glared at it like it might explode.
“…What is this?”
Izuku swallowed. His fingers shook, "S-something I worked on in class. I...I showed it to Uraraka, because she’s good with words and I wanted her opinion, but–”
Katsuki’s ears did not catch the last part since his blood pressure spiked. OH GOOD. A LOVE LETTER. A WRITTEN CONFESSION. HE DID NOT WANT TO SEE THIS. AT ALL.
He jerked back, "Why would I want to read a letter you wrote to your girlfriend?!”
Izuku’s cheeks turned sunset-red. “It–it’s not to her.” He extended the paper again, eyes glimmering with fear and something painfully hopeful, “It’s...it was supposed to be a draft. For someone else. I just didn’t have the courage to finish it or give it to–”
Katsuki’s voice darken unintentionally, “Who?”
“You.”
Katsuki froze.
Silence thickened and fragile.
Katsuki snatched it – more aggressively than necessary – because if he hesitated, his hands would shake. He unfolded it. In Izuku’s messy handwriting, it read:
Kacchan,
I’m sorry for writing this, I really am–
[Uraraka: Deku, this sounds like you're confessing to murder. Try again.]
Kacchan,
You probably don’t want to get a letter from me. Or maybe you don’t care. Or maybe you’ll blow it up the second you see my handwriting…
[Uraraka: He hasn’t blown up your stuff in ages. Stop assuming he’s going to detonate your feelings.]
Kacchan,
The truth is...I really like you.
[Uraraka: …Okay, but “like” is vague. You are literally head-over-heels for him. Just say it, Deku.]
Kacchan, I like you. A lot. Actually, love. I love you.
[Uraraka: Good. Terrifying, but good. Keep going.]
I’m not writing this because I want anything from you. I know I messed up a lot. I know I’m annoying and awkward and I trip over everything including your chair, sorry, but…
[Uraraka: You ARE awkward, but you are not annoying at all. Also, that’s not the point. Don’t apologize so much.]
I admire you. I always have. You were the first person I ever thought was amazing.
[Uraraka: This is really sweet. Also true. Leave it.]
And now you’ve changed so much. You’re strong and kind in ways you don’t see. You protect everyone and act like it’s nothing. When I watch you my chest does this weird tight thing – no, not a heart attack – and I keep trying not to stare but it’s hard because you’re just…
[Uraraka: Deku. DEKU. Maybe don’t mention your chest doing “weird tight thing.” But the rest is good. Very heartfelt.]
I think I fell in love with you years ago, maybe even when we were kids, and it never went away.
[Uraraka: Perfect. Leave this exactly as is.]
You don’t have to like me back. I don’t expect you to. I just...didn’t want to pretend anymore. When you walk into a room everything feels different, and when you say my name I…
[Uraraka: Finish the sentence, coward. I literally saw you forget how to breathe sometimes.] [Izuku: Am I…?]
If this makes things weird, I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know at least once in my life that you’re the person I…
[Uraraka: Don’t back out now.] [Izuku: the person I care about the most?] [Uraraka: Good boy.]
…Okay, stopping now before I humiliate myself even more.
– Izuku
P.S. Please don’t explode anything after reading this. Especially me.
[Uraraka: He won’t…Probably.]
Katsuki stared at the paper like it was a live grenade someone had lovingly wrapped in glitter and shoved into his bare hands.
A confession.
A love confession.
With Uraraka’s chirpy, merciless commentary bordering every margin with pastel-colored ink.
His eyes tracked the sentences again – I love you – like they were trying to rearrange themselves into something else. Something less catastrophic. Something he could breathe through.
But no. The words stayed. But his mind was not. He felt heat crawl up his neck, across his ears, down his spine, like every neuron had suddenly decided to ignite in humiliation. His hands trembled – actual trembling – and he almost tore the page in half.
“You had Round Face – what – fix this? Edit this??” he barked, voice cracking.
Izuku squeaked, "S-she offered–!”
“And you let her?!” He pointed at a pink scribble in the corner, “‘Good boy’?! What the–what the fuck is this, Izuku?!!!”
Izuku looked like he wanted to dissolve into the floor.
Katsuki dragged a hand down his face, groaning loudly like he aged at least 20 years. “You–how long–why didn’t you–??” Words were not cooperating. Then he remembered the line.
I think I fell in love with you years ago, maybe even when we were kids, and it never went away.
The world stopped. Again. And he, too. Bakugou Katsuki forgot how to function properly. He clutched the paper so hard it crackled. His heart lurched painfully, a single, traitorous thought shoving itself through the mind: Izuku loves– Izuku actually–
He cut it off with a violent shake of his head. No. No, his chest couldn’t handle finishing that sentence. His voice came out much quieter, rough around the edges, “You...wrote this. For me.”
Izuku nodded, terrified and red, "Y-yeah.”
“Why…”
“Huh?”
Katsuki’s voice cracked before he could stop it, low and rough like it hurt coming out, “Why the hell don’t you hate me?”
“Why–Huh? You still linger on that? Kacchan, you apologized, remember?”
Izuku couldn’t see those red eyes, so he tilted his head and looked up, “You hurt me, yeah. But you changed. And I saw how hard you tried. To made up for your past.” His voice soft, “Beside…I could never hate you. Because you are my closest friends, and an amazing person I have always admired.” My symbol of victory. That fight in their first year.
Katsuki’s throat tightened. He looked away. Looked at the quiet goose. Looked away again. He wanted to scream and run and explode and stay exactly where he was, all at once. He scrubbed a shaking hand through his hair, exhaling hard. All that time. All the heartbreak. All the jealousy. All the stupid self-denial.
For nothing.
He glanced at Izuku again – nervous, hopeful.
Hopeful.
“…So you are not dating,” he muttered, voice low, almost soft, “You should’ve told me.”
Izuku swallowed, “Kacchan…you read all that and still suspect I was...with someone? Is it that important?”
Katsuki stared at the ground, "What does it matter?”
Izuku swallowed, "It matters to me.”
Katsuki’s throat closed.
Izuku whispered, “You...seem distant lately. Like you were pulling away. I didn’t know why.”
Katsuki’s hands curled into fists.
Izuku took one more step, "Kacchan...did you – did you stop talking to me because of that?”
Katsuki flinched.
Izuku’s breath caught, "You...like me?”
Katsuki’s entire soul shut down.
“…I thought you were happy,” he said, "With her.”
Izuku’s eyes widened, "So you–you gave up because of that?”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his voice a low, broken rasp, "I didn’t wanna mess up your life again.”
The goose suddenly honked loudly like it disagreed. Katsuki scowled at it through a blur he refused to acknowledge. Izuku smiled at it, stepped close enough that Katsuki could feel the heat of him, "Kacchan...you never messed up my life. I told you already. You’re a huge part of it.”
Katsuki’s heart slammed.
“I’m not dating anyone,” Izuku whispered, "I’ve never dated anyone. Because...I have always–” He stopped, cheeks burning. His voice softened to a trembling thread, "Kacchan...there was never anybody else I wanted.”
The goose honked like a wedding bell.
Katsuki stared, stunned, every wall in him shaking. Izuku took his hand – gently, carefully, like he was afraid Katsuki would vanish.
Katsuki didn’t pull away. Couldn’t.
Izuku smiled, cheeks pink, eyes soft, "If the goose thinks we’re soulmates...then...I’m okay with that.”
Katsuki swallowed hard, and stared at their hands. Intertwining.
He wanted to say something too. Couldn’t let Izuku do all the work. Katsuki didn’t trust his voice. Didn’t trust his heart. Didn’t trust anything except the fact that he was leaning in, just a little, just enough...
Their foreheads brushed. Izuku’s eyes fluttered shut.
And Katsuki thought–
Finally.
Then–
“Absolutely not.”
Aizawa’s voice sliced through the moment like a blunt knife.
Both boys jerked so hard they smacked heads. Izuku yelped. Katsuki swore viciously.
Aizawa stood there with his sleeping bag slung over one shoulder, looking approximately 300 years tired, "No kissing on campus,” he droned, "I don’t care if you’re soulmates, childhood friends, or victims of The Soulmate Goose. Keep it PG.”
Katsuki was about to open his mouth to scream. He didn’t get the chance. Because the goose, who had been silently judging the almost-kiss with righteous anticipation – suddenly launched itself at Aizawa with a battle cry of pure, feathery fury.
HONNNNNNNNNNNNK!
Aizawa dodged. And seized it by his capture cloth.
Professionals are truly something. Katsuki thought.
HOOOONK!
The teacher pinched the bridge of his nose, “Listen. I know how these geese work.”
Katsuki and Izuku froze. Geese. Plurals. Izuku asked, “You have met them?”
Aizawa simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further, just continued the topic, “If soulmates don’t kiss, the goose won’t leave. And it won’t calm down. And it will not stop enforcing physical proximity.”
“HOOOONK!” the goose screeched, punctuating the statement by pecking Katsuki in the hip until he was standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with Izuku.
Aizawa pointed a finger at it, "Exactly that.”
Izuku yelped as the goose nudged him forward like a battering ram. Katsuki stumbled sideways into him, nearly catching Izuku’s hand. The goose perked up, hopeful.
Aizawa held up a hand, “NO kissing on campus. Not even a little. Not even a millimetre. I don’t care if divine poultry demands it.”
HOOONK!! The goose somehow had managed to escape and lunged for him again.
Aizawa dodged with the reflexes of someone who had spent years training for exactly this moment, "Don’t argue with me! School rules override fate!”
The goose hissed disagreely.
Izuku clasped his hands nervously, "S-so what do we do…?”
“Stay near each other,” Aizawa said flatly, “Or it will attack.” He pointed to the goose, who had now claimed Katsuki’s shoe like a guard dog, “Kiss only after you’re off property. Which means after school. Then it’ll disappear.”
Katsuki snorted, "This is really fucking weird anyway.”
The goose slowly rotated its head toward him. Dead-eyed.
Katsuki took a single step away.
HOOONK!!!
It launched.
“I’m kidd–!” Katsuki sprinted sideways, and the goose slammed into his shoulder like a feathery missile, aggressively herding him right back against Izuku’s side.
Aizawa didn’t even blink, “Told you.”
In the school's medical room, Katsuki grumbled, arms crossed, as Izuku applied a final bandage on his leg, “This is humiliating.”
“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Izuku said gently.
“Romantic?!” Katsuki sputtered, “A demon goose chased me into your arms!”
Izuku smiled, “Yeah. Perfectly romantic.”
The goose reappeared from behind the curtain.
Katsuki immediately grabbed Izuku’s hand. “I mean–SUPER romantic. EXTREMELY. NEVER LETTING GO EVER.”
The goose nodded approvingly, then vanished again.
By lunchtime, Katsuki was at the end of his patience since the damn bird kept appearing out of nowhere to punish them whenever it liked.
It pecked Katsuki for sitting too far. They had to sit at one table to keep the bird happy.
It pecked Izuku for being too nervous.
It pecked Kaminari for being too close to Katsuki.
It pecked Hagakure for talking with Izuku. (How did it know she was there though…)
It pecked Mineta for breathing too loudly near them.
Everyone suffered.
And poor Izuku kept glancing at Katsuki with tiny, pink-faced looks that made Katsuki’s stomach do some dangerous flips. Katsuki snapped a pencil in half just trying to keep his hands from wandering somewhere unknown.
Finally, as the class buzzed with chatter, Katsuki leaned close and muttered under his breath, “Bathroom. Now.”
Izuku squeaked, nodded, and nearly tripped over his chair following him.
The goose perked up, honked with suspicion, then dove after them.
They practically stumbled into the empty bathroom.
Door shut. Silence. Except for their breathing and the faint pat-pat of webbed feet outside the door like it was waiting for a result.
Katsuki leaned against the sink, arms crossed, heart absolutely not racing. Izuku looked up at him, cheeks pink, fidgeting with his fingers, "K-Kacchan…? Do you want…?”
Katsuki’s mouth was dry. Too dry. He scowled down at the tiles just to avoid the softness in those green eyes. “It’s gonna keep stalking us until we...y’know…”, he gestured vaguely in the air like the concept of kissing was too dangerous to handle directly.
Izuku’s face went crimson, “Oh. O-okay. I mean–not okay–but okay if you–if you want–if you don’t want I can–”
“Izuku.” Katsuki’s voice cracked, "Shut up for a second.”
Izuku shut up.
They stood there, both of them vibrating with nerves, neither brave enough to move first.
Katsuki swallowed. Then stepped close enough that their chests touched, and grabbed the other’s shoulders. Izuku looked up at him through his lashes, breath catching. Katsuki’s eyes, usually sharp and fiery, were softer now; his gaze never wavered from Izuku’s, drinking the scene in front of him.
The messy dark green hair fell in soft, unruly waves over his forehead, brushing against those wide emerald eyes that always seemed to see right through him. His skin was pale, almost glowing in the light of the bathroom, and the faint pink of his freckles cheeks made him look fragile, like he could be shattered if handled too roughly. Katsuki wondered if Izuku was scared, because of the way his scarred hands fidgeted, the way his shoulders hunched just slightly, the tiny tilt of his head. If…If he doesn’t really…
Katsuki inhaled sharply, "You...really meant what you wrote? What you said?”
Izuku averted his gaze shyly, then nodded, soft and earnest, “Every word.”
Katsuki swallowed and lifted his hand shakily, brushing a strand of hair behind Izuku’s ear. Izuku leaned into the touch instinctively, eyes half-closed, lips quivering. Their breaths mingled. Their noses brushed. The air between them felt thick, and impossibly small.
“Good,” he muttered, “Cause I’m not kissing you if it’s just because of that stupid bird.”
Izuku’s voice was barely a whisper, “It’s not.”
Katsuki reached the other hand out – slow, careful – fingers brushing Izuku’s cheek.
And finally, gently, tenderly.
Their lips met.
It was slow. Warm. A little clumsy. Very soft. Izuku’s hand curled in Katsuki’s shirt. Katsuki’s thumb stroked the scar on Izuku’s cheek. They parted for a second, then lips touched again, deeper, like they were learning the shape of each other for the first time.
Then, outside the door, a single victorious honk.
And nothing else.
Izuku pulled away, eyes wide, "K-Kacchan...the goose–”
Katsuki listened. Absolute silence.
He smirked, “Guess we completed the quest.”
Izuku laughed, breathless and bright, "Kacchan…”
Katsuki tugged him closer by the waist, "Shut up. We’re not done.”
That afternoon, Aizawa stepped into the classroom for homeroom. He scanned the room.
No goose. No feathers. No honking.
Katsuki and Izuku have returned to their seats, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, not even each other.
Aizawa sighed.
Somewhere, far in the distance, a holy goose ascended into whatever afterlife deity-birds go to, its mission fulfilled.