Crossing Fates : Special Story 6 - The Bean Goes To College (BakuDeku)

1 - The Creeping Cold

Iori stood at the edge of the rooftop of UA Tower, looking down at the city streets.

It was the darkest time of the year, after winter solstice and the annual Masque of the Gods, and right before Christmas. Below, the streets were decorated with Christmas lights, the ribbons of brilliant color piercing the frigid darkness.

Dense, icy snowflakes swirled on a wind so cold, it stabbed at the skin like tiny, invisible needles and whipped through his hair. He ran his fingers through it, but it tangled again immediately after.

He needed a haircut, but when had there been time?

It was not just the darkest time of the year. It was also one of the darkest times for the Nyr. For the first time in history, a sentinel had fallen.

Ojiro was dead, killed in a battle with a first-generation Djinn.

Just a few days ago, they had burned his body on a funeral pyre. Shocked by a loss too deep for tears, the Nyr in the Tower went about their business like automatons, going through the motions.

Katsuki had decreed that the Masque would still be held, and so they'd done their jobs.

Amidst the lavish festival, condolences poured in from all the other domains, while the Nyr endured.

Behind Iori, the rooftop door opened twenty feet away, and a soft footstep sounded.

Recognizing the footstep, along with the hint of scent carried to him by the knifelike wind, Iori didn't turn around.

His mother stepped beside him, wrapped against the winter night in an ankle-length woolen coat, gloves and a cashmere scarf.

As a gust of wind hit izuku, he shivered and lifted his collar to protect his neck as he looked out over the city.

"I don't know how you or your father can stand being out in this kind of weather without a coat," Izuku muttered. "Just looking at you standing there in your T-shirt and jeans makes me feel cold."

Both he and his father carried so much fire inside, no winter chill could affect them.

"It feels good," he said, lifting his face to the wind. The light sting of snow on his skin broke through the distance between himself and the world.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother nod.

Izuku Bakugo was a beautiful man that looks way younger than his age, short and slender, with pale skin, short mop of fluffy dark green hair which adorably curls up at odd angles around his head, casting noticeably dark shadows onto itself whenever it hits the light. He has a set of four symmetrical freckles in diamond formations, one on each cheek and has wide emerald green eyes that were and sometimes watery which gives him a more innocent appearance.

His mother shone gently like a candle in the night.

After a few moments, Izuku said, "Supper's ready."

"I'm not hungry." He turned his gaze back to the illuminated streets below. The dragon that lived inside him watched the small, fragile creatures with sharp interest.

"Io," Izuku said gently. "Please come downstairs and eat something. I don't think I've seen you take a bite since Ojiro's funeral."

While that might be true, it wasn't exactly accurate.

His mom had been overwhelmed with funeral preparations and his duties as host for the Masque, so the family hadn't shared very many meals like they normally did. Whenever Izuku had checked on him, he hadn't been hungry.

But that didn't mean he hadn't eaten. Driven by instinct and need over the last week, he had shapeshifted into his dragon form and flown over the ocean repeatedly, hunting for massive amounts of food and gorging until he couldn't swallow another bite.