Printed on my Wrist

Izuku wasn't really sure how he felt about soulmates. On one hand, he was fascinated by them. The fact that there was a person that was his direct complement in every way, out there in the world, just waiting for him was mind boggling. And that the universe gave him the key to finding them?

Insane.

Izuku liked to stare at it, sometimes, the words branded on his skin. They curled across his wrist, delicate and pretty, the ink stark and vivid. You're my best friend. The words often stirred butterflies in his gut. What would bring his soulmate to say something like that? Would they be friends for awhile? Friends forever? Would they end up together?

Logically, Izuku knew that not all soulmates ended up romantically paired. Platonic soulmates were just as common as romantic ones, and just as celebrated. He had no idea if his was just that; platonic. On the surface it seemed that way. And truth be told, that was fine with him. Having a best friend until his dying days was a dream come true, really. Especially when he didn't really have one.

Izuku sighed as he stuffed books into his bag. He took a moment to tug his sleeve further over his wrist, hiding his words from view. It wouldn't do him any good for someone to see them, after all. Not here, anyway. He eyed Bakugou and his posse from across the room, ducking his head at the sounds of their raucous laughter. Yeah, he definitely didn't need anyone seeing his words.

He already got made fun of enough as it was.

"Do you even have a soulmate?" Bakugou jeered. It was days later, before classes started. He leaned over Izuku, palms sparking with threats of pain. "You already don't have a quirk. How funny would that be, if the universe hates you that much?"

Izuku shrunk, trembling slightly. He focused his gaze on his desk. I do have a soulmate, he thought, though he didn't say as much. He'd long learned it was best to keep quiet, when Bakugou was involved. The boy in question slammed a hand onto his desk with a loud pop, smoke and sparks rising in a puff. "Hey! I'm talking to you, ya' damn nerd!"

"That's enough, Bakugou! Please find your seat," the teacher said, voice tired and worn. Thankfully, Bakugou backed down, marching back to his seat and leaving Izuku staring at the charred hand print left behind on his desk. He let out a shaky sigh.

That was close.

"Please pull out your textbooks and turn to page eighty-two."

There were a few groans, and an intense rustle as twenty nine kids followed directions. Izuku pulled his book out slowly, propping it open against the edge of his desk, where he balanced it just so. He peeked over the edge at the teacher, who had his back turned.

Izuku pulled his arm up, hooking a finger on his sleeve and tugging it back just enough so that his words stared back at him.

You're my best friend.

He read them, over and over again. You're my best friend, my best friend, my best friend.

~#~

"Deku, hey!" Uraraka waved, her hair bouncing along with the rest of her. On the table in front of her was a stack of books and an open notebook; it was study night, when he, Iida, and Uraraka all met up in this tiny little cafe near Yuueii to go over their notes together. Izuku waved back, his face growing warm as he made his way over. "I'm so glad you're here," Uraraka said as he slid into the booth, "I'm having a terrible time with this english assignment, and Iida's running late."

Izuku blinked. "He is?"

"Yeah, he just texted. See?" She thrust her phone into his face, and sure enough, there was a new message in their group chat. Izuku hummed.