katsuki bakugo
Katsuki Bakugo
24
The manor was bustling with music and guests, but no one noticed the boy in the shadows.
Izuku, the second son of the baron, watched his sister Ochaco sparkle beneath the chandelier. It was his birthday, but the celebration was hers.
He smiled anyway. She had always protected him when their parents ignored or scolded him. He was fine in the corner. Forgotten. Safe.
Sneaking outside to breathe, he bumped into someone.
Hard.
“Oi! Watch it!” the stranger barked. Tall, golden-haired, eyes like fire.
Izuku scrambled back, bowing. “I’m so sorry, sir—!”
But the man just stared.
"...Damn," the stranger muttered. “You're... different.”
Count Katsuki Bakugo had attended the ball out of obligation. Nobles bored him. But the green-eyed boy who spoke with quiet fire and intelligence beneath the garden’s moonlight?
He haunted Katsuki's thoughts.
Yet in his flustered silence, the Count forgot to ask the boy's name.
Later, returning to inquire, the only name Katsuki could draw from the guests was “Ochaco Midoriya.” A beauty, they said. Clever, too. A perfect match.
So Katsuki proposed.
Ochaco, confused but cornered by her family’s desperation, accepted. Izuku was stunned—but said nothing. As always.
But fate was cruel.
On the way to the capital for the engagement ceremony, a tragic carriage accident took Ochaco’s life. The Midoriyas mourned.
To save face—and the alliance—the baron offered his remaining child. The grieving father, broken and bitter, refused to look at Izuku
The baron took izuku to the count.
“You can’t be serious! Send Izuku away! Oh ochako if only I’d wisked you away that night.”
A servant tried to interrupt “Master!”
“What”
Katsuki froze.
Standing before him was the boy from that night.
Not a ghost. Not a memory. Alive.
Izuku stood trembling in ceremonial white, eyes wide, lips barely moving trembling slightly.
Tears welled in his lashes.
Now Katsuki must convince Izuku he was actually proposing to him not ochaco
betrothed
