Chapter Text
Izuku has known Katsuki and his twin brother, Hikaru, all his life.
He has admired them as far back as he could remember—two amazing, brilliant stars that illuminate everything and everyone around them. They are the only three children in the extensive Bakugou estate but they had never truly been playmates.
For one thing, Izuku is much younger than the twins. By the time Izuku learns at 4 years old that he doesn’t have a quirk, the twins are already 12 and ready to start middle school. For another—and this is probably the more important reason for this story—the Bakugous is one of the wealthiest families in Japan, and Izuku is their housekeeper’s son.
This, however, is not some Cinderella story where Izuku is mistreated and forced to clean cinders from the fireplace—the Bakugous employ a different person for that, and they are paid well for the job.
If anything, this is a story of how Izuku saves the handsome prince from a fate worse than death—and finds real love along the way.
Midoriya Inko is housekeeper to the Bakugou family.
In today’s parlance, she would be more accurately described as administrator; the manager of the Bakugou household and its small army of servants—chefs, butlers, cleaning staff, gardeners, chauffeurs—in the family’s many and varied homes.
There is the traditional residence in Kyoto where past generations of the family had lived for centuries; the resthouse in Karuizawa for tranquil summers and hot springs; the chalet in Hokkaido for skiing; the penthouse in Roppongi Hills that’s used mainly to host overseas corporate guests.
Those fortunate enough to be considered friends of the family are hosted in one of the many guest houses within the family’s main estate, extravagantly spanning an entire block in the Tokyo suburbs of Denenchofu. There, their needs could be catered to far more efficiently under Inko’s personal supervision.
But more than a housekeeper or manager of homes, Inko is Mitsuki’s closest friend and confidant. They have been so since they were children. When Mitsuki joined the Bakugou household as a young bride, she brought Inko with her as her dearest friend. Inko simply never left. She meets, marries, and buries a husband, and somewhere along the way, raises a son—all within the Bakugou estate.
Izuku grows up within the family estate but lives with his mother in the apartments above the kitchen. It’s an admittedly large and well-appointed set of rooms to live in, far better than any accommodations they could have had outside, but nevertheless, their living space is most definitely not part of the main house.
It’s an odd combination of being surrounded by wealth and luxury, without ever being part of it.
Both Mitsuki and Masaru are indulgent of Izuku’s presence. He is a sweet if energetic boy who is sometimes underfoot but is never particularly disruptive. They send him to the same private schools their older twins had gone to, and pay for whichever extra-curricular sport or hobby he is interested in.
The Bakugous, after all, had plenty of money to spare, and Mitsuki could live without a lot of things but probably not without Inko.
Izuku’s relationship with the twins is shaped by their relationship with his mother.
Mitsuki and Masaru are busy running the family business. Masaru is involved in the strategic and day-to-day operations, and Mitsuki heads the design and production side of things. While they are not exactly neglectful parents, care of the twins is, by necessity, often left to others. There are tutors and extra lessons to keep them occupied, or games and friends to entertain them.
And, always, there is kind, gentle Inko to watch over them.
The twins are both highly intelligent, and the extra lessons aren’t so much to help them in school but rather to expand their minds and dispositions as befitting scions of the Bakugou house. There are lessons in music, language, dance, calligraphy, as well as the necessary training in self-defense and martial arts, because one never knows when someone would think it is acceptable to harm a child simply because their parents are rich.
The lessons that could be done indoors always takes place in the breakfast room, just off the kitchen, because Inko could keep an eye on the boys there.
It is a warm, cozy place, far less imposing than the formal dining room and the old-money grandeur of the rest of the house. Its wide windows open to the east garden, and it is ideal for quiet pursuits on rainy afternoons.
Hikaru is never the studious type. He suffers through lessons when he needs to, and escapes to his rooms or his friends’ houses whenever he could, as fast as he could. It isn’t surprising that despite its welcoming atmosphere, Hikaru rarely spends his free time in the breakfast room—in his mind, it is a place for learning and study.
Every day, when the twins get home from school, they would go to the breakfast room and find milk, snacks, and a smiling Inko waiting for them, asking about their day. Hikaru would soon wander away, off to play video games or chat with friends; but Katsuki would stay, take out his school books and do his homework there, eating the freshly baked cookies or sliced apples that Inko leaves him with.
As soon as Izuku is old enough to clamber up the seats on his own, he sits in the breakfast room with Katsuki, coloring his own art, sharing the cookies and apples between them. He is a happy toddler and Katsuki doesn’t really mind.
When Izuku becomes fussy, one or another servant would pick him up and bring him elsewhere so he wouldn't disturb Katsuki. Which means Izuku learns to behave lest he be taken away from ‘Kacchan’. There is no greater punishment. For Izuku loves Katsuki the way only a four year old boy could—boundless and heart full.
And so, while Izuku has known the twins all his life, Hikaru is a figure admired from afar, and Katsuki is a closer presence, adored and much beloved.
When Izuku is 7, kids at school begin calling him ‘Deku’—useless—because he had no quirk.
It is hard enough for a young boy’s heart to comprehend that he is without quirk, and could never be a hero like Kacchan or All Might, but to be told that he is ‘useless’, not fit to do anything or be anything—it’s all too much. He refuses to tell his mother but it is clear there is something wrong.
The third day he fails to appear at the breakfast room, Katsuki shows up at his room above the kitchen instead. It’s decorated with All Might posters, and Izuku, in his All Might shirt, is slumped forlorn on the All Might bedsheet.
“What’s up with you?” Katsuki asks, nudging Izuku to give him space on the small bed.
The story spills from Izuku’s trembling lips along with copious amounts of tears. It is, after all, one thing to hide things from his mother, and quite another to lie to Katsuki.
It is a learning experience for young Katsuki. He has always been the top dog in every situation he’s been in. He’s the older, more competent twin, born into generational wealth, to parents who love him; he is praised by his teachers, feted and admired by his peers. He is loved by Inko and adored by this little human currently curled beside him in abject misery.
Katsuki could not comprehend anyone daring to call him useless, much less allowing such words to hurt him this deeply. It pissed him off.
“Are you telling me that what they say is more important than what I think, hah?
That stops the sniffling. “N-no. But Kacchan doesn't think I’m useless; it’s the mean kids at school.”
“Exactly! If I don’t think you’re useless, then why should what they say matter?”
That gets Katsuki a pair of blinking green eyes as Izuku tries to process his words.
“Who’s more important, me or them?” Katsuki asks, confident of the answer in a way very few people ever are.
“Kacchan, of course!”
“Fuckin’ right, I am,” Katsuki says, startling Izuku into a wet giggle because he’s not supposed to learn bad words, and they both know it. “So stop thinking you’re useless! You’re not.”
Izuku rewards him with a confused sniffle. “But they call me ‘Deku’, Kacchan. I don’t like it.”
“Eh? So ‘you can do it’. What’s not to like?”
“I can do it?”
“Yeah. ‘Deku’.”
“‘I can do it’.” Izuku mulls it over.
“Yeah, now come on, Deku,” Katsuki says, ruffling messy green curls before grabbing Izuku’s yellow backpack from the desk, “your mom made mochi, and we both got homework to do.”
Katsuki talks to his parents that night. He is 15 and about to enter UA under the Hero course; he can’t go around beating the living shit out of some nasty 7 year olds.
The next weekend, Izuku is enrolled in karate lessons.
The Bakugous chart their family history some 1200 years, all the way back to the Heian period. They had been traditional weavers for many of the ancient clans, including the Imperial House itself, but they have long since adjusted and expanded their trade from kimonos to street wear, haute couture and, eventually, pro hero suits.
The Bakushinchi brand is a global player, providing suits to over 50% of active pro heroes in the world.
Katsuki is the older son by a full 4 minutes, and with that comes certain duties and responsibilities as successor and future head of their house. But he has been adamant from an early age that he wants to be a pro hero and would not be running the family business.
Other families would perhaps have been dismayed and urged their eldest son to reconsider. But Katsuki has always been head-strong. Masaru only half-jokingly blames it on Mitsuki. It is reluctantly decided that Hikaru instead would lead the company—and the family—to the next generation.
The twins both go to UA as planned—Katsuki to the hero course, and Hikaru the business course. They both do well; are at the top of their respective classes.
Katsuki does an internship with All Might himself. He is one of only a handful of interns that All Might has ever taken on.
He had met All Might years before, when Katsuki was a young boy. It was at a party thrown by his parents at their estate. All Might was one of the few pro heroes who didn’t use the Bakushinchi brand—he partnered instead with David Shield of ShieldTech and wore their uniform and gear exclusively. The twins had been allowed to attend the party that night so they could meet him.
Katsuki remembers that night. All Might had been out of his red-and-blue uniform and the twins were initially disappointed. He had instead been wearing a tuxedo that did its expensive best to showcase his already impressive height and physique. All Might was at the peak of his career and everyone in the party had been hero-struck.
But more than his blond hero looks or brilliant smile, Katsuki responded to something he saw in All Might’s blue eyes, in the way he stood and held himself. Here was someone who will always win—no matter what. Will dredge up a final strength from somewhere inside, when there was simply no more, to get that win. He will do whatever it takes to make sure the villains go down, even at great personal cost.
All Might’s absolute determination had stuck with Katsuki. He’d taken it as his own personal creed—if he trains for it enough, prepares for it enough, wants it enough: he will always win. Anything else is unacceptable.
But not even the Bakugous could lead a fully charmed life. In their last year in UA, their father falls ill.
It is all very sudden. One moment Masaru is fine, the next he collapses at work. The family is concerned, but no one—not even the doctors—are overly worried. Perhaps it had just been a touch of anemia. Or vertigo. Masaru is in the pink of health.
A hospital stay and a battery of tests later, the doctors find a tumor. It is aggressive, malignant and inoperable. Masaru is only 46 years old.
The twins are 18 at the time, and the news hit them in different ways. One refuses his destined path, overwhelmed by the responsibility; the other gives up his own, so he could shoulder the family’s.
Hikaru buckles under the pressure. He doesn’t want to pursue a business degree anymore. He doesn’t want to take the company reins. He couldn’t be argued with; he couldn’t be persuaded.
So Katsuki steps up.
He breaks curfew one night and obliterates Ground Beta. When brought before principal Nezu, Katsuki asks him to turn down the offers extended by the top hero agencies on his behalf—all except the top most one
Katsuki goes personally to All Might’s office to tell him of his decision. He feels he owes it to the man.
“I won’t ask you anymore if you are sure of this decision, Bakugou-shounen. I am certain many others have asked you the same question already, and that does you a disservice. You have obviously thought about this long and hard, and you know best the consequences more than anyone.”
“I’m sorry I wasted your time training me, All MIght,” Katsuki grits out, refusing to give in to the emotions trying to thrash its way out of his chest.
“I would hardly call it a waste. I believe we have both grown in the experience, and that’s never a bad thing. For what’s it’s worth, Bakugou-shounen, I believe you would’ve made an excellent hero. And I am not just talking about your powerful quirk.”
It is all Katsuki could do to nod, accepting the words in place of his dream.
Katsuki’s grades are easily excellent enough to get into the business program in Tokyo University. He earns his degree and interns at the family business at the same time.
Hikaru, on the other hand, seems adrift. He keeps shifting college courses; getting in and out of relationships. He takes up as many hobbies and projects as he drops, unable to stay the course for any of it. He coasts through life on his charm and the family’s money, and it is easy to forget that Hikaru is as brilliant as his twin.
For Katsuki, there is too much to do, so much to learn. He is late to the game and needs to catch up. He knows how to do a Howitzer, how to splint bones and de-escalate hostage situations, but he doesn’t know about mergers and acquisitions, how to please stakeholders or spot a market trend.
He had wasted all those years dreaming of becoming a pro hero when he should have been learning about the family business from his father. Masaru dies just as Katsuki begins his second year in university, and now it’s too late.
There is so much to do there is no more time for quiet afternoons in the breakfast room. He had been busy in UA anyway, and if he had become a pro hero as planned, he still wouldn’t have had any time for Izuku. Katsuki is an adult now.
Izuku is 12 when Masaru dies; but he lost his Kacchan even before that.
When Izuku is 13, he falls in love, and he falls hard. He watches from afar, sighing and pining like a young Edo maiden from those books his mom likes to read before bed.
The object of his youthful affection is devilishly handsome, charming, witty, urbane, and completely out of his reach: Bakugou Hikaru—21 years old and as brilliant as his name. Izuku blushes; he stammers and fumbles and trips over his own feet whenever Hikaru is around.
Not that Hikaru notices.
Izuku would see him come home from his bedroom window, driving his fancy red car, and Izuku would sprint out to meet him, stopping a few meters away to compose himself, so as to seem like he hadn’t been running, and walk oh-so-casually over.
Hikaru would smile his way, say ‘hey, kiddo’, and pat him on the head. Izuku would sigh and smile, torn between wishing Hikaru sees him as more than a kid and being ecstatic that he got to see him smile.
All the pining and sighing is pretty painful to watch, and despite what Izuku thinks, everyone in the household knows of his puppy love. But Izuku is well-loved by the staff, most of whom had seen him grow up, and they are sympathetic.
Ah, young love, some would say, remembering their own.
Katsuki probably would have found all this amusing except he is never there anymore. He is busy, being groomed to take over the family business.
At 16 years old, Izuku follows the twins’ footsteps to UA, but studies under the support course. He still faces taunts and teasing about his quirklessness, but he is quick, smart and no one can do quirk analysis better than he can.
He isn’t useless, and he doesn’t let other people tell him otherwise.
He has his share of admirers but his heartfelt adoration for Hikaru never wavers. It’s as if all the love in his small body has found an outlet in Hikaru’s gallant, irreverent and utterly irresponsible form.
Izuku expects to work for the Bakugous when he graduates from UA. They have paid for his education and it is a way he can give back and show his loyalty to the family. And it wouldn’t have been a hand-out—Izuku would have been the best inventor in their R&D team.
But instead, a month before his graduation, he is told he has a 4-year internship lined up at I-Island under David Shield.
The Bakushinchi brand still primarily provides hero suits, and ShieldTech concentrates in support technology, but there is something of an overlap between their products. Special collaborations are usual enough between the two companies. Despite the rivalry between their brands, Shield is, in fact, a long-time business associate and friend of the Bakugou family.
Everyone in Izuku’s class goes nuts when he tells them, telling him how lucky he is with real envy in their eyes. And they are right; this is a huge opportunity for Izuku to learn from the best. And he really is grateful to Mitsuki for arranging this for him.
It’s just that… four years is a long time to be away.
“What if he forgets about me?” Izuku asks.
He is 18 years old, fresh from graduating from the UA support course.
He’s seated on the bed, an open suitcase beside him, half-filled with neatly folded clothes. They had changed his child-sized bed to a bigger one years ago, but his walls are still peppered with All Might posters. They have only been added to with signed photos from teachers and other heroes he met while in UA.
“Who will forget you?” Inko asks absently, her head popping out from the open closet. She holds up Izuku’s only suit, a maroon pin-stripe he wore to the UA graduation dance. “Maybe you should bring this? Just in case.”
“Hikaru, mom! What if he forgets me?”
“Oh, sweetheart, how can he forget someone he doesn’t even know exists?”
Two pairs of green eyes look at each other in horror.
“I didn’t mean that, Izuku,” Inko says, immediately contrite. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.” She puts aside the suit and sits beside her son with a heavy sigh. “It’s only that there’s so much more to you than this obsession with Bakugou Hikaru. He’s a good boy, and I can only hope he’ll grow to be a better man; but, honey, you deserve better.”
Izuku falls back on the bed with a short, hurt sigh; green eyes fixed to the ceiling.
“This internship with David Shield is a great opportunity.” She places a soothing hand on his arm, squeezing it in reassurance. “I want you to go out there and see what life can offer. There’s a vast world between great manors and rooms-above-the-kitchen, Izuku. I want you to find your own place.”
The night before Izuku has to leave, there is a grand party at the family’s estate.
Among other things, the Bakugous are known for the parties they give. They are lush and lavish affairs, with an old-world elegance that only equally old money can successfully pull off.
The garden and pavilion are transformed into a romantic wonderland with paper lanterns and twinkle lights. A live orchestral band plays soft music while waiters slip in and out of the crowd of beautiful people, offering champagne and ridiculously expensive hors d'oeuvres.
Parties like these are an opportunity to see, as much as be seen. Fortunes are made and understandings often reached over clinks of aged-whiskey glasses and champagne flutes. It’s a mixture of industrialists, politicians, celebrities, and friends of the family, peppered with guests invited for their wit or beauty, or even both, just to keep things interesting.
Inko is busy with overseeing the catering and servers, and Izuku is supposed to be finishing his packing. But it’s his last chance to see Hikaru before he has to leave, and Izuku can’t resist.
It is easy enough to slip past the controlled chaos in the kitchen, go down the servants’ pathway, hide behind an ancient tree and climb up its familiar branches, until he has a clear view of the party but is hidden by the generous foliage.
It takes a while to spot Hikaru amidst all the elegantly dressed people but when he does, it’s as if no one else in the party existed. He’s so handsome. Ash blond hair, crimson eyes. His smile is so beautiful, so brilliant, it’s as if sparkles of light surrounded him. He’s swaying gently with the music, a gorgeous redhead in his arms.
Izuku sighs. Of course Hikaru is here with someone; someone lovely and utterly beautiful. New, too, if Izuku is any judge of that still-fascinated look in his eyes; and he was a very good judge about all-things-Hikaru.
The very man in question throws back his blond head, laughing at something his companion said. Izuku sighs in response, knocking his forehead against the tree trunk.
When he turns back to the party, the couple is no longer where they had been before. Izuku catches the swish of green silk tulle at the edge of the party, and sees the redhead slipping away, down the garden path.
Izuku feels his stomach drop.
He looks to the open bar and, sure enough, there is Hikaru, purloining a bottle of champagne from the head waiter. He slips two glass flutes in the back pockets of his custom-made trousers, the back of his tuxedo jacket covering the bulge perfectly. The maneuver is flawless from years of practice. Hikaru goes up to the orchestral conductor and whispers something.
Izuku knows that, soon enough, a string of romantic songs would play—all conducive to wooing and stolen kisses. Hikaru and his redhead would be in a secluded part of the garden, with a quaint chaise lounge conveniently placed among the jasmine for more amorous pursuits.
Izuku clambers down from the tree; there is no use waiting. Hikaru sometimes takes hours before he returns to the party. If he ever does. There is a pathway from the secret garden leading to a convenient washroom where Hikaru’s dates can repair whatever mess he has made of their coiffure and make-up before they face the public again. If there is no saving it, there is another pathway leading to where a car could pick them up and bring them home.
So this is to be Izuku’s last glimpse of Hikaru to last him for the next 4 years—looking handsome in his tuxedo, on his way to a tryst.
Izuku feels like crying.
He trudges back towards his rooms but is stopped by the commotion in the kitchen. He turns right instead, stepping on garden stones threaded through the small ornamental pond, and into the breakfast room.
The sight of the room makes him want to cry all over again. He doesn’t want to leave.
He opens an artfully hidden cabinet and takes out an electric pot. All food is prepared in the kitchen, and hot chocolate drinks are usually made from scratch, but there are instant packets kept here for this exact purpose—comfort drinking when everyone else is asleep or busy.
He’s waiting for the water to boil when he hears footsteps coming from the main house, not the busy kitchen.
“Chocolate, Deku?”
Izuku turns around and couldn't help the smile.
“Hello, Kacchan.” He beams at Katsuki, his mood instantly lifting at the sight of his old friend.
He had thought he wouldn’t see him before he has to leave. He hadn’t seen him in the crowd earlier and Izuku had presumed he is sequestered in the main house, conducting business with some guests—even during parties like these, Katsuki is working.
Katsuki looks resplendent in his haori—the crested overcoat over his formal kimono and the pants-like hakama. It’s a shade so deep it is almost black, except for the blue-tinged shimmer when the light hit it just right. While Hikaru and most of the other male guests are in formal tuxedos, Katsuki had opted for a traditional kimono.
It’s both a power move as the host and head of the house, as well as a good showcase of the quality of Bakugou weaving. His haori bore five of the Bakugou family crests: one on each sleeve, one of each side of his lapels, and—Izuku knows even without looking—one on the middle of his back.
Katsuki is 26 years old, and he looks both commanding and at ease in his traditional finery.
“Yes, hot cocoa. Would you like some?” Izuku asks, just to be polite. People at the party would have been drinking champagne or the finest single malt whiskeys, Katsuki included.
“If you have enough, sure,” Katsuki replies, surprising but pleasing Izuku. He takes an extra cup and saucer from the cupboard and places it on the tray beside his own.
“How’d you know I’d be here?” Izuku asks.
The breakfast room is on the far side of the main house, away from the party. There’s a closer path that leads to the kitchens, had Katsuki wanted to reach Inko to discuss something.
There is no reason that Izuku could think of for Katsuki to be wandering this way, at this time, except that he knows Izuku would be here. Which is odd given that Izuku himself hadn’t known he would be here.
“Saw you climb down the tree,” Katsuki says with a smirk.
Izuku feels himself flushing and is saved by the sound of the pot whistling.
He places a cocoa-filled cup and saucer in front of Katsuki, and sits down to blow on his own. Something not done in polite company but this is Katsuki. He has seen Izuku do worse; Izuku has seen Katsuki do worse. Although, admittedly, not in recent time.
“I’m glad I got to see you tonight, Kacchan. Before I have to go. I wasn’t sure if you knew I was going away.”
A single pale eyebrow rises. “You looking down on me, Deku? Who do you think arranged for your internship?”
Izuku gapes at Katsuki. “You? But why? I was planning to work for the family.” He flushes. “I mean, I am skilled, Kacchan. I wouldn’t have been a burden—”
Katsuki cuts him off with an impatient sound. “I know you, I’ve seen your grades. I’m sure you’d be great at Bakushinchi.”
“Then why, Kacchan?” Izuku asks, his words a plaintive cry, trying to come to terms with what his teenage heart is telling him is a betrayal.
“Bakushinchi isn’t a hero support company. At least, not yet. You won’t be working with pro heroes if you’re here.” Katsuki taps the saucer with his finger, his nail making pure sounding pings against the expensive porcelain. “One of us should achieve our dreams, Deku. Or as close to it as possible.”
Izuku swallows. He swallows the hurt, the feeling of betrayal; and most especially, the ache that clutches at his chest and threatens to fill his eyes with tears. Katsuki would not appreciate his sympathy and would be livid at any sign of pity.
“I will do my best. You know I will. It’s just that... I don’t want to be so far away.”
“You’re talking like you’re never gonna come back,” Katsuki says, one eyebrow quirked.
“I’ll be gone four years,” Izuku points out.
Katsuki shrugs, taking a sip of his hot cocoa. “Everything will still be here. That’s the thing with traditions, it never changes. And you know this family is chock-full of them.”
Izuku leaves on a Sunday. It’s a beautiful spring day, and the cherry blossoms in the estate are in full bloom.
He doesn’t come back for 4 years.
On I-Island, he meets David Shield as expected, and his daughter Melissa, who is also quirkless like Izuku, which is unexpected.
While there, Izuku also meets someone who will change his life. An older man, tired and sickly. One Yagi Toshinori.