Tsuki Ryoshi is a hunter like her father, she's spent her whole life happily traipsing around the Beast's Forest with her best friend Izuku Midoriya, never really wishing for more. That is until she has to leave her quiet little village to escort a...
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Image: Bakugo Tribe Village
"I'M NOT MARRYING ANY OF THOSE LOSERS!" Katsuki yelled at his mother, folding his arms across his chest and turning his head away from her. "There's not a single girl in this whole damn tribe worth talking to never mind marrying!"
He huffed in annoyance as his father looked worriedly between his son and his wife. The latter stood up from her seat at the head of the council table, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown identical to her son's and her temper rising along with his.
"Well, you have to marry someone you damn brat! You can't take over as king until you marry and produce some heirs!" She shouted back, leaning forward amd placing her palms down on the table. Her red eyes shifted to her husband and she tilted her head towards their son, silently asking for his input. Masaru sighed and turned to face him.
"What your mother and I want is for you to be happy son, but traditions must be upheld otherwise the Bakugo clan will lose their standing with the rest of the tribes. Is that what you want? For us to look weak?" He asked in a soft voice.
Katsuki's eye twitched and he growled at his father. Mitsuki looked proudly at her husband, he'd used the magic word. Masaru always knew what to say whenever she didn't.
"I'M NOT WEAK! I'll be the best damn king this tribe has ever seen! Just you watch!" Katsuki dropped his arms to his sides and clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "But I'm not marrying any of those half-wit wannabes you got that?!"
Mitsuki decided she was going to have to compromise, "if you don't like any of the girls in our tribe that's fine, but you'll have to find a bride somewhere Katsuki." She folded her hands across her chest, looking down at her own betrothal tattoo, it was only a simple twisted band wrapped around the finger of her left hand, but it was her favourite.
She sighed, she was lucky when she turned 17 and already had her sights set on Masaru. Her son, however, hadn't shown the slightest interest in any of the girls from their tribe, no matter how much they threw themselves at him, he hadn't so much as looked at one of them as anything more than a nuisance. She was positive he wasn't gay, which she thanked her luck stars for, try explaining that to the old men on the council. She assumed he simply hadn't met anyone he considered worthy, which she understood of course, but still. His stubbornness and pride would be the death of her, she was sure.
-
Katsuki turned his back on his parents and stormed out of the council tent, his red cape flapping behind him as he headed off to the amphitheatre. He always went there when he needed to calm down or think; beating someone up always made him feel better.
But it was late now, and the training ring was deserted; the torches around the stone stands were the only source of light in the growing darkness, and their flames flickered in the gentle breeze as he looked down at the empty pit. He huffed in frustration at the lack of opponents to beat, but nevertheless, he made his way down the large step-like tiers and started swinging his scimitar at one of the straw training dummies instead.
