"Allow me to swear myself to your side for as long as you may live. Until death, I am wholly and completely yours."
A guard of the royal Midoriya family, Katuski Bakugo is relentless and fierce. When the bratty Prince Izuku Midoriya approaches him...
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Maybe, in some way, I'm lucky that he was such a schemer - if it had been anyone else, I'd have my head on the guillotine as we speak.
It was a day like any other in the castle. I'd been working under the king's rule for three years, since I was 17. It's not easy to become a royal guard - thirty weeks of relentless military training. Every night you're crawling into your shitty bunk bed with the squeaky mattress in your shitty shared accomodation with forty or so other men who all reek of testosterone, dried sweat, and raging misogyny. You're battered and bruised, the skin of your hands is cracked and bleeding, your feet feel like they've been slashed with a knife, and every single fucking muscle - ones you didn't even realise you had - burns like the deepest pits of hell. Over the months, the weaklings dropped out from the brutal training and returned home shamefully. Others who lasted a little longer spent their nights sobbing quietly into their poorly-stuffed pillows until they too quit. The strongest ones gritted their teeth and dealt with it, until their bodies and their minds became accustomed to the toughness of it. In the end, only seventeen of us made it to our "graduation" of sorts, and we donned the uniform of the castle with pride, wearing the Midoriya family crest on our lapel triumphantly as a symbol of all we'd been through. I was the youngest of the lot, freshly turned seventeen in comparison to all my twenty and thirty-something compatriots. Not to brag or anything... actually, fuck it, I'll brag all I want: I graduated with the highest marks out of all of them.
I still remember the day the drill instructor, Endeavour, a man just as arrogant as myself, pinned the crest to my new, crisply starched uniform and gave me a curt nod - the closest thing anyone could get to approval from him. "Katsuki Bakugo, you have successfully completed your training, with top marks, to be part of the Royal Guard of the Midoriya family. Congratulations." It was the only time he spoke to me without yelling in my face, spit flying, to do 'more pushups, and make 'em quicker!'.
Anywho, after being flogged for that long, the actuality of being a guard was a lot softer. For one, we were given our own rooms. They were small, just a single bed, a desk, but they were air conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter - can't afford to have the guards freezing to death, I suppose. Hah. And I don't know much about thread count, but the sheets are pretty damn soft.
I don't socialise that much with my fellow guards, but basic pleasantries have been exchanged and that's plenty enough for me. They all clearly resent me for being the best despite my youth, but none of them are game enough to pick a fight with me because of it. It's just a daily routine of feeling them glare daggers at my back as I patrol the palace. I only smirk to myself. Being hated is never nice, but being hated because others are jealous of you? Now that's the best feeling ever. I thrive off it, it pushes me to do better every day, to keep my head above the water and stay at the top of my game.
Showers and bathrooms are communal but decent. Meals are above satisfactory, a generous amount of protein to keep our energy up. The pay is definitely the cherry on top of the cake. Yeah, my three years here have definitely been the preferable job option.
