Chapter Text
After he had abruptly left his meeting with Aizawa, Izuku found himself wandering down a long corridor, glancing at the ornate doorways and hoping one of them might lead to the water closet. He hadn’t wanted to ask, especially with how formal everything had been, and assumed he’d eventually stumble across it. Yet the farther he walked, the more the hallways twisted and turned, and soon he realized he was hopelessly lost.
As he rounded a corner, he noticed a figure standing further down the hall, arranging a fresh bouquet in a tall vase near one of the doors. The man had a posture both stiff and tired, a neat uniform bearing signs of careful mending, hisshoulders squared despite faint scars visible even at a distance. Izuku hesitated, feeling out of place, but finally gathered his courage to approach, hoping it wouldn’t be held against him if he asked for some help.
“Um, excuse me… sir?” Izuku’s voice came out in a whisper, barely audible in the quiet of the manor.
The man turned slowly, giving him a calm, appraising look. His gaze was direct, neither harsh nor overly friendly, but something in the set of his jaw and the way he straightened felt reassuring.
“Yes, young sir?” The man’s voice was low and steady, a comforting contrast to Izuku’s nerves. “Do you need assistance?”
Izuku fidgeted, trying not to let his embarrassment show. “I, uh… I was just looking for the water closet.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to bother anyone, but…” he trailed off.
The man’s expression softened slightly, though he remained composed. “Not a bother at all, young master,” he replied. “I am Inui, one of the butlers here. Allow me to escort you.”
Izuku nodded, visibly relieved. Inui’s quiet presence had an oddly grounding effect on him, and as they walked through the winding hallways, he couldn’t help but notice the air of dignity the man carried, tempered with a sort of quiet resilience. As they passed a dimly lit corridor, Izuku’s eyes caught on the faint scars along Inui’s neck and hands, almost as if life had dealt him more than a fair share of hardships.
“Thank you, Inui,” he said after a few moments of silence, glancing up at him.
“Of course. For now, perhaps it’s best to just focus on the present,” he stated, leading Izuku to the discreetly marked door of the water closet.
Izuku thanked him again, feeling an odd sense of relief at meeting someone who seemed understanding of his unease.
–
Inui led Midoriya through winding corridors until they reached a small, cozy sitting room. The walls were decorated with elegant tapestries, and a tea set was arranged on the table, accompanied by a plate of small pastries and finger sandwiches, which instantly drew Izuku’s attention. He was starving, not that Izuku let himself do anything that would give that information away other than head toward the chair closest to the sandwiches.
Inui, with a quiet voice, said "Please, young master, make yourself comfortable. I’ll pour you some tea."
Midoriya hesitated before sitting, casting anxious glances around the room. Inui’s presence was both reassuring and somehow intimidating, with his scars and solemn bearing suggesting that he perhaps had a past that wouldn’t be too dissimilar to what Izuku’s future would be.
Inui, with Midoriya’s assent ( which was weird, why was he waiting on Izuku? He was soon to not have any freedoms. Was he trying to let him enjoy his last moments of freedom? ) sat beside him upon noticing Midoriya’s clenched fists and tense shoulders. “It’s perfectly understandable to feel anxious, young master,” Inui offered, his voice low but compassionate. “Today’s going to be… quite life-changing.”
A shaky breath escaped Midoriya. “I… I know what will be expected of me. Lord Bakugou made that clear enough, and I’ve had a friend who was in a situation similar.” His voice softened.
Inui stayed silent, attentive, as Izuku’s fingers began trembling.
“Lord Bakugou,” he started, his tone raw with suppressed pain, “he told me what would happen here. He looked at me with that smirk he always has like it was some… some joke that I was just catching onto. He called me weak and said I should be grateful that someone like me finally has a purpose. Because that’s all I’m good for, right?” He laughed bitterly, though it sounded almost like a sob. “Nothing but a tool, a convenience.”
Inui’s expression remained unchanged as he leaned forward a bit, though there was a glimmer of something in his eyes that Izuku couldn’t read. “You’ve been told quite a bit, haven’t you?”
Midoriya nodded, swallowing. “He… he’s not wrong, is he? I don’t have the right to protest any of this. I’m—" He trailed off, glancing down at his lap. “I’m to be property now. Just someone… to obey.”
Inui’s brow creased subtly. “Young master, what all have you been told?”
“My mother… she made it clear.” Midoriya’s fingers dug into his palms as he recited her words. “‘Better to be useful and quiet, Izuku. You wouldn’t last otherwise.’ She was right, too. I tried to fight it, but—” He choked up as tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. “I-I don’t know how to live up to this.” His voice broke.
“Lord Nedzu, who looked me over like I was some… some asset to be traded and used, not a person. He said something about me finally putting my ‘potential’ to use. Like I’m just—just something he had plans for, nothing that he told me, of course. That would be too much to expect for someone like me. Knowing my previous lord he probably told me about my future role in this region only to get my face as any hope for my future was destroyed. I probably wasn’t even supposed to know about what my future holds. Lord Nedzu even told Aizawa he was sure that I would ‘serve him well.’ I hate this. I promised Shinsou I would run if I got in a place similar, but I can’t- ”
He struggled to breathe as panic gripped his heart but he forced himself to remain still. Izuku sat rigidly, his gaze fixed on the teacup in front of him, yet his mind was worlds away. Inui’s soft voice and quiet presence had opened him like a dam, and now his thoughts rushed out of his mouth without a way for Izuku to stop them.
“My whole life, it’s like… it’s like I was born broken, you know?” he started, his voice wavering. “I tried so hard to be useful. To… to make my mother proud, even if she only saw me as… as someone who needed to stay out of the way, to be quiet, not make any trouble.” His breathing grew shallower. “Because trouble was the last thing we could afford.”
Inui’s brow furrowed with understanding, but he didn’t interrupt as Midoriya’s voice grew shakier. “I think I am going to just… disappear here. Become someone I can’t even recognize, who doesn’t get to speak or be anything but… whittled down to just puppet with no control of my own strings.”
Inui’s calm presence remained, grounding him, but the emotions bubbling over in Midoriya couldn’t be stemmed. Memories of his past clawed their way to the surface, especially the face of one particular friend—Shinsou.
He drew in a shuddering breath. “And then there’s Shinsou,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze goingunfocused. “My only real friend, before they… before they put him in one of those collars and never let him take it off.” Izuku found his fingers running along the collar that was now fasted on his neck that he had no hope of ever removing. “I watched him die over several years. He was already partially dead, the person was buried from the abuse he suffered, but he used to be able to smile. He had this spark to him, you know? Like… like he believed he could make something of himself, even with all the odds stacked against him. It eventually died. He couldn’t survive it, he died as a person years before his body finally gave out. And if someone as strong as Shinsou couldn’t…” Izuku’s words trailed off, the implication weighing heavily on him.
His hands were shaking openly now, his breaths coming in desperate gasps as the walls seemed to close in. “How am I supposed to? I’m not even strong, not like he was. I’m not defiant, I don’t have that spirit any more. I just… I’m just here, waiting to be shaped into whatever it is they want, and I don’t think I’ll be able to hold onto… anything that makes me me. Not for long anyway” His voice cracked, panic fully taking over. “How can I do this? How can I even… How am I supposed to live through this, when every single person I ever tried to trust just… just said I was useless ?”
Inui’s steady hand on his shoulder gave a gentle squeeze, his calmness unwavering even as Izuku’s emotions continued to spiral.
“I know I’m not supposed to be greedy and ask for more,” he continued, his voice trembling. “But I didn’t want this. I just wanted to—to make a life, something of my own. And now I can’t even… can’t even imagine what that would look like anymore.” His breathing grew harsher, his chest tightening as the sheer hopelessness of his situation weighed on him. “This isn’t life. This is… I’m just a—a doll who can no longer control their own strings.”
The weight of his words, his panic, crashed over him like waves, leaving him breathless and lightheaded. Inui, with a calmness and patience that felt out of place in such a grim room, remained with him, letting the storm of Midoriya’s thoughts and fears finally spill out in full.
And as Izuku’s panic subsided, he found himself clutching the edge of the settee, as though it were the only anchor he had left in the world.
Inui tightened his grip on Izuku’s shoulder, his hand firm but reassuring, the steady weight grounding Midoriya as his breathing continued to spiral out of control.
“Take a breath, young master,” Inui murmured, his voice calm, carrying a warmth that cut through the haze of panic. “You’re here, in this room, safe. No one’s taking anything from you at this moment. Right now, all you need to do is breathe.”
Izuku, barely able to focus, managed to take a shaky breath, following Inui’s low, steady rhythm as he spoke. “In through the nose. Yes… good. Hold it there a moment, and let it go.”
Slowly, Midoriya’s breath fell into the gentle rhythm Inui set, his heart’s frantic beating calming by degrees. His grip on the edge of the settee loosened, his shoulders trembling less as Inui’s words began to break through the fog.
“You’re allowed to have fears, especially when you’re being thrust into a new place with no support,” Inui continued softly.
Midoriya swallowed, his vision clearing a bit, though the weight of his emotions still sat heavily on his chest. “I know, but…”
Inui’s expression softened, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. “Then all you’ve got to do is do your best to adapt,” he murmured. “While there might not be much you can do, the world will have already won if you give up before you’ve even tried.”
Izuku hesitated, his eyes searching Inui’s face as though trying to believe the words, and Inui continued, keeping his gaze steady. “You have a choice here, even if it’s hard to see right now. Hold on to yourself, no matter what happens, and don’t give up. Because that… that is the definition of true strength.”
Izuku took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the crushing weight lift as Inui’s words resonated within him.
Inui’s hand remained steady, a constant presence, and his gaze softened further as he spoke. “I may not know every struggle you’ve faced, nor every one you will face, but I know resilience when I see it. You’ve survived so much already, and that takes more strength than anyone can see from the outside.”
Izuku let out a shuddering breath, some of the tension finally releasing from his frame as he clung to Inui’s steady words. “I… I think I can try that.”
“Good,” Inui replied with a small, reassuring nod. “No matter what happens, try and stay strong. Otherwise, they’ll win, and those who put you down don’t deserve to win. You do.”
Izuku smiled and carefully removed the tears from his face with a black handkerchief Inui handed him. It was only when Izuku looked down at it that Izuku realized that he rubbed off some of the painting on his face.
“We don’t have time to redo it,” Inui shared, immediately noticing the problem. “But the designs above your eyes are still clean, so I can just leave them be and clean off the rest if you would like.”
“Please,” Izuku begged once he noticed there were no mirrors in the room for him to it himself and Inui gave him a small smile and started on it. A state of calmness settled over Izuku, and he let himself settle. There wasn’t any point in dwelling on his future any longer, he’d done more than enough worrying. Instead, he let himself bask in the gentle strokes of the cloth on his face. It was a delicate moment, but it was there, something he could hold on to, his last moment being treatedso kindly.
He looked up at Inui, managing a small, grateful nod when he was done. “Thank you… really. I appreciate it.”
Inui wasn’t given a chance to say anything in response as a maid burst into the room. “There you are Inui! We desperately need your help in the kitchens! There’s an issue with-” The maid has grabbed Inui and successfully dragged him out of the room, leaving Izuku alone, who turns to face the window.
–
A few minutes later, a maid arrived to escort Izuku to the courtyard. She gave a respectful bow, her demeanor calm andprofessional. “Young master, it’s time. If you would please follow me.”
Izuku felt his stomach twist, but he nodded, standing up and straightening his gown. He wished he had anyone here he even remotely knew, but of course, there wasn’t. So with a deep breath, he stood and followed the maid, keeping his steps steady as they made their way down the grand halls.
With each step, he tried not to think about what he was walking toward. He forced his mind blank, focusing only on the sound of his own footfalls, the swish of the maid’s skirt as she led the way, the flickering light of the stones lining the walls, and the flower arrangements in every other hallway. Anything to avoid acknowledging what was waiting for him.
But as they neared the archway leading outside, anxiety clawed its way back in, his heart pounding louder than his footsteps. He thought of Shinsou, his friend who’d worn the same resigned expression almost every day.
Stop it, he told himself firmly, clenching his fists by his sides. He won’t melt down now, he’s already had so many. Besides, it would do no good.
He felt a bead of sweat slide down his neck and forced his eyes to stay forward, his jaw set, his expression resolute. He wouldn’t let his fear show, wouldn’t let them see the uncertainty eating away at him.
The maid led him through the open archway, and the bright light of the sunset hit him, making him blink against it. A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying the scent of flowers—anthuriums, chrysanthemums, and other blossoms he couldn’t name—all arranged to celebrate the occasion. But the beauty of it only made the heavy feeling in his chest tighten further.
Ahead, a small gathering was already present, and seated. The ceremony had already started, though if Izuku didn’t know any better he would have assumed this to be a real wedding. Unable to stop himself, his gaze locked onto a lone figure standing at the front, dressed in traditional navy robes of the area, his dark hair and sharp gaze unmistakable. Aizawa Shouta stood with quiet intensity, waiting.
Izuku’s pulse spiked, but he kept his expression calm, taking deep breaths to mask his nerves. He forced himself to focus on his steps, the clacking of the heels he was forced into this morning that felt forever and only a second ago, on reaching the place where he was expected, one steady step at a time.
The maid stood aside. He would walk the rest of the way solo.
Don't think about it, he repeated to himself, almost like a mantra. Just take one step… and then the next.
Barely succeeding in not crying, he walked down the aisle alone surrounded by unfamiliar faces.
—-
Aizawa Shouta couldn’t keep his eyes off the figure emerging from the archway. The world seemed to narrow to a single point, focusing entirely on the man walking toward him. Midoriya Izuku moved with an almost ethereal grace, the sunlight illuminating his green hair like a halo, giving his skin a warm, soft glow. Shouta could barely breathe, utterly captivated by the way Midoriya held himself—carefully steady with an unreadable expression on his face.
Each step brought Midoriya closer, and Shouta found himself admiring every small detail, every nuance of his soon-to-be spouse. The finely embroidered dress hugged Izuku’s frame in a way that made Shouta’s heart stutter, the intricate patterns catching the light just enough to accentuate the gentle strength in his posture. Even the nervous tension Shouta could sense in Midoriya’s shoulders only endeared him further. Shouta felt something unfurl in his chest—a tender warmth, a fierce protectiveness—and for a moment, he was completely oblivious to everything around them.
Then his gaze shifted, and a flicker of unease tempered his excitement. It struck him that, while the space was arrangedbeautifully, he was walking towards him alone. Where was his father or mother? He looked around frantically, everyonegathered here was undeniably marked by a blue tie, a symbol of his and Nedzu’s family. No one, it seemed, wore the orange tie that would denote that they were here for Midoriya.
The realization sent a pang of worry through him, his brows drawing together. His gaze lingered on Midoriya, who waswalking down the aisle with no one beside him, surrounded by strangers who were here solely for Shouta.
Where were Midoriya’s people? Shouta hadn’t asked about Midoriya’s circle, assuming that Nedzu would’ve invited the people important to him. But it was clear now—painfully so—that Izuku had no one with him today. No familiar face, noone to offer him support in what was a defining moment of his life. Shouta clenched his jaw, feeling a surge of protectiveness.
Midoriya stopped a few paces from him, raising his gaze briefly before meeting Shouta’s eyes and looking away, toward the officiant. Shouta’s heart pounded as he took in the nervous expression behind the veil—a look that spoke of uncertainty, which was understandable. They hardly knew each other yet. He couldn’t wait for that to change. He could see Midoriya trying to maintain composure, even in the absence of anyone from his side, and Shouta felt a sudden urge to reach out, to assure him that he wasn’t alone.
As he stared down at his husband-to-be, Shouta’s resolve solidified. He promised himself that he would be more than just a husband to him. He would be his friend, his ally, and his family if he needed one. Midoriya would never walk alone again.
Shouta’s expression softened, and with a slow, steady breath, he gave Midoriya the slightest nod of acknowledgment and warmth, hoping to convey without words that he would be there—no matter what.
As the officiant gestured for them to begin, Shouta took a deep breath, the words he had prepared in the limited he had to write them felt suddenly insignificant as he looked at him. His heart swelled with a mix of awe and tenderness as Midoriya finally looked back up at him again, and he decided to speak from the heart instead.
Shouta's voice was steady but quiet, only meant for Midoriya. “May I call you Izuku?”
Midoriya- Izuku nodded and Shouta smiled softly at the young man in front of him.
“Izuku," he begins slowly, his voice steady but careful. "I won't pretend that I expected...or even understood everything that’s brought us here. I know we've barely shared words before this, but...I know this is something that will change our lives forever. You approached me several times to prove your worth and I refused to hear it, throwing you out, but you always came back until you couldn’t. I admire that tenacity…”
Shouta continues, but it takes a moment for Izuku to zone back in. If he didn’t know any better he would have assumed that Shouta was in love with him, but he knows; the collar is still on his neck, after all.
“So, I vow to acknowledge that dedication in you, to...to make sure you have someone by your side in all your endeavors, even if this all began in a way neither of us could have planned. I vow to do my best to always do my best for you and try to be there when you need me. I vow to open my heart and home to you so that we may discover exactly how well we fit together. And maybe, in time, we’ll both find what we’re looking for."
He finished, holding Izuku’s gaze, hoping the sincerity of his words could convey the depth of his commitment.
Izuku swallowed hard, taking a breath to steady himself. His heart raced as he began, his voice softer but unwavering. “Aizawa...” he paused, seeing Shouta’s face. After a silent moment, Izuku restarts, “Shouta, I can’t see the future. I am not a diviner, seer, or prophet. I can’t tell you what we’ll look like at any point in the future. But I can vow to try my hardest to make you happy. I vow that I’ll try and ‘serve you well.’”
The way Izuku said those last words had a frown almost appear on his face. He didn’t like it. He would have to remember to bring it up after the festivities were over.
“I’ve never imagined something like this for myself, never thought I’d be standing here. But here I am, knowing that mylife will never be the same. I’ve always wanted to be useful, to prove myself. When I first sought you out, I was hungry to learn, and ready to do anything to prove myself. I didn’t expect after you sent me away that last time that I would ever see you again. And it never even crossed my mind that I might one day be standing here like this, promising myself to you, not as an apprentice, but…"
Izuku gulped and, after a moment, started a different sentence, leaving the previous one uncompleted. “I vow…to do my best to learn and adapt to this new situation. To bring all of me into whatever this becomes, and…to do right by you in whatever ways I can. I may not know a lot about being in a relationship like this, but I do know how to try, and that I promise."
It was silent before the overseer nodded and grabbed the traditional ribbons. Izuku stared at them in shock. Ribbons for a slavery bond were all black, none of the ribbons were that color or even gray. The three ribbons were pink, blue, and orange.
They have Shouta and Izuku clasp hands and Shouta almost shivered at the touch. Izuku’s hands were cold to the touch.Not wanting his almost-husband’s fingers to get any colder, he does his best to make his hands cover more area, to make them warmer.
The orange ribbon is tied around their hands first to symbolize Izuku and the lands he left to be with Shouta. Next is the blue one, for Shouta as he is practically Nedu’s heir. The last one is the pink one, for the love they will hopefully share.
“And now you both may kiss.”
Shouta looks at Izuku. Giving his husband a full-on kiss, their first kiss , in front of strangers was illogical. That was something only he should be able to see. So, he did the only logical thing, he brought one of Izuku’s hands up and gave it a kiss like the gentleman Nedzu raised him to be when with noble company.
The applause started, and, as is tradition, Shouta led Izuku off for their hour together before they had to go out and eat the festive meal to celebrate and dance.
Shouta guided Izuku to a cozy sitting room adjacent to his quarters, where two comfortable chairs sat by a low table. Shouta took a seat in one of the armchairs, but then immediately noticed Izuku hovering just slightly too long near the door. His hands were tense, his posture stiff, and the uncertainty in his eyes made Shouta pause. He gestured to the other chair.
“Come and sit, Izuku. You don’t have to stand there.”
Izuku’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded, taking cautious steps to sit down, his hands folding tightly in his lap. The silence stretched between them, comfortable for Shouta, but he could see it was working on Izuku’s nerves, twisting his fingers tighter with each passing moment. To Izuku, it didn’t feel real . It hadn’t been at all what he had expected. And now, here they were, in a room together, alone for the first time. Thinking about the ceremony, Izuku wasn’t sure what had happened. It felt more like a wedding than anything thing. The gravity of that realization was slowly dawning on him, and it made him feel off-footed, unsure.
Finally, Izuku took a deep breath, his gaze darting to Shouta’s face before dropping again.
Izuku’s throat tightened, and he swallowed hard before looking up at Shouta, a troubled expression shadowing his features. “Aizawa-san, may I…may I ask something?” he began, voice tentative.
Shouta nodded, giving him a small, encouraging smile. “You never need to ask permission to speak,” he replied softly.
Izuku’s brow furrowed, uncertainty still clouding his expression, but he drew a steadying breath. “Then… I want to ask what’s happening. I—I was told… I mean, I thought… this was supposed to be some kind of… of bond ceremony, where I’d…become…your property.”
His words faltered, but he pushed through. “But nothing about today matched that. I mean, people were smiling genuinely, we exchanged vows, and the flowers—” He swallowed, his voice dropping. “The flowers were… for a wedding. And none of the ribbons were black or even gray. There was even a pink ribbon used to bind our hands together!”
Izuku’s words tumbled out in a whisper. “I thought I was just… something Lords Nedzu and Bakugou had… arranged, something for you to manage your anger or desires on and to get rid of me.” He glanced away, clenching his fists. “I don’t understand. This whole thing—everyone in that room—they were there for you. I was the outsider.”
Izuku’s voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes darting to Shouta’s face, searching for some kind of answer, some kind ofvalidation for his confusion. "I mean, I...I’ve been told it was a ceremony where I would...well, become your property. I was told I was to become your slave. But...I thought it was just a formality, not an actual wedding ."
Shouta, hearing the weight of Izuku’s words, felt a sudden and sharp panic grip him. His breath hitched as the horrifying realization began to sink in. Here, he had been all day ecstatic he was going to get to marry the man with such a brilliant mind that he was getting the opportunity to right the wrongs he had made in the past. But Izuku had probably spent this whole time terrified.
This was all wrong —this was a nightmare, something Izuku had been trapped in, probably without a say in it. Shouta had thought, at first, that the whole situation had just been about an arranged marriage—something Nedzu had gotten done because he kept bringing the other up in conversation and had caught feelings. But Izuku’s explanation...the way he explained what all he had been told… there was no way this hadn’t been done deliberately. He had been led to believe that such an appalling fate awaited him, the thought almost made Shotua sick. (He had no right to be when Izuku had spent this whole day probably fearing for his life, while Shouta had been having the time of his life.)
Shouta forced himself to steady his breath and keep his voice calm, though the sting of guilt threatened to crack his façade. “No. That’s not what this is,” he stated firmly, his gaze dropping as his mind raced. “It was a wedding. I thought you were aware. I never would have let the ceremony happen had I even suspected that you were unwilling or unaware. I don’t think that’s how anyone should be treated.”
Izuku looked up at him, his eyes sharp as they studied Shouta, who did his absolute best to stare back and project his honesty. “But then why—”
“I don’t know.” Shouta interrupted, his voice gentler now, though there was still an undercurrent of distress. “No one deserves what you’ve gone through today. I sincerely apologize for not realizing what was going on and stopping things before the wedding occurred. I’m sorry.”
Izuku blinked as though the words had physically struck him. “What?”
Shouta nodded, his heart aching and weeping inside his chest. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do for you or to make this better, please let me know.”
Izuku stared at him in silence, but the tension in his shoulders began to soften if only a little. The panic still clouded his expression, but now, there was a flicker of something else there—something like the beginning of trust.
Izuku stayed silent for a long moment, his eyes still wide, absorbing the weight of Shouta's words. The panic hadn't quite faded, but there was something in Shouta's voice that made him hesitate. There was sincerity there, something that felt genuine.
Shouta, watching him carefully, couldn't quite keep the growing frustration from bubbling to the surface. Anger, pure and deep, clenched in his chest. How could this have happened? How had Nedzu, Bakugou, and everyone else around them let it get this far, letting Izuku think this was some kind of transaction, some cruel formality he was bound to?
"I'm so sorry," Shouta repeated, his voice raw now, something fierce behind it. "No one should have done this to you. No one should have let you believe this was all you were worth." He shook his head sharply, his fists clenching at his sides as the protective anger surged again, this time directed at everyone who had allowed Izuku to feel like an object. "They should have known better. They should have realized how dreadful their actions were and understood what kind of consequences something like this could have resulted in. I should have paid more attention, and been more observant. I’m so sorry I failed you."
Izuku looked up at him, his brow furrowed in confusion and uncertainty. "But you didn’t... I mean... if you weren’t told, how could you have known? We don’t know each other all that well." His voice was small like he was still trying to piece everything together, trying to understand how Shouta could now apologize so earnestly after what had just happened. "Why would you... say that? If you didn’t know how, could you have failed? Besides, are you sure you aren’t the one with the misinformation?"
Shouta's gaze softened, though his chest was still tight with emotion. He stepped closer, reaching out to rest a hand lightlyon Izuku's arm. It was meant to be comforting, but it was a gesture laced with more than just care—it was also a vow. "I’m sure. I could feel the equal partnership bond form.” Shouta paused a moment, his thoughts spinning. Wouldn’t Izuku have been able to feel the bond? Why wasn’t he?
It is then that Shouta’s eyes spotted the necklace tight around Izuku’s throat. Is that a collar? His eyes widened in alarm. “Is that what I think it is?”
One of Izuku’s hands raised to touch it, but he said nothing and looked down.
“THEY PUT A MAGIC COLLAR ON YOU?!” He yelled in panic. “WHO WOULD DO SUCH A THING?”
Izuku flinched away and curled into himself.
Seeing his face, Shouta is quick to lean back and force himself under control. After several cycles of purposeful breathing, he had calmed himself enough to try and continue their conversation. “I’m sorry for yelling and scaring you. If I give you permission, will you be able to take it off?”
Izuku shrugged.
“Would you like to take it off?”
Izuku nodded.
“Take off the magic collar,” he said clearly, just in case.
Izuku’s shoulders slackened, it seemed Shotua had earned more of Izuku’s trust with that action, which was nice, though not what he had been thinking about when he said it. He just wanted the torture device off of his husband.
Izuku’s arms raised, but as soon as his hand touched the metal with the intention to remove it, it shocked Izuku, making him scream.
Shouta’s heart hammers at the sound. The pain in it makes the sight hurt him even more.
Never one to be idle while someone is in pain, Shouta performs the one spell he managed to create ‘Erase Magic.’ This spell destroys magic within inanimate objects, rendering them dull and lifeless. It’s harmless to humans.
The screaming stopped as soon as he finished casting the spell. With that done, he cast a localized severing charm and forced the offensive object off.
They sat there silently for several breaths before Izuku spoke, “You were being truthful earlier, weren’t you?”
“I was.”
“Then, I wouldn’t mind starting as friends and seeing where we go from there. If that’s ok with you?”
Shouta nodded, trying not to seem eager. He could work with that once he had Izuku’s trust, he could start properly winning over his husband, but first, he had a banquet to attend and an investigation to start.
