help me / bakudeku omegaverse /

Part 28

Izuku woke with questions already forming in his mind.

Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, painting warm shapes across stone walls. Katsuki was still half-asleep beneath him, arm slung loosely around Izuku's waist, breath steady and deep. Izuku lay still for a moment, listening—then shifted just enough to rest his chin on Katsuki's chest.

"Kacchan?" he murmured.

A grunt. "Mm."

"How does magic work?" Izuku asked, genuinely.

That earned him a cracked eye and a faint scowl. "You ask that now?"

Izuku smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I'm very excited."

Katsuki huffed, but his hand slid up Izuku's back anyway, grounding without effort. "Alright. Fine. Short version or long?"

Izuku's eyes lit up. "Long."

Katsuki sighed theatrically. "Figures."

He adjusted them both so Izuku could sit more comfortably, still tucked close. "Magic isn't about how strong you are. It's about two things: limit and power."

Izuku nodded immediately. "Okay."

"Limit is how much mana you can use at once before your body says 'enough,'" Katsuki explained. "Most people have small limits. So they learn to work within them—tailoring magic to their jobs. Farmers boost soil. Builders reinforce stone. Messengers use wind just enough to run longer."

"And power?" Izuku prompted.

"That's how efficiently you use what you've got," Katsuki said. "Power grows with practice. The better you understand your magic, the less you waste."

Izuku hummed thoughtfully. "So someone with a small limit but high power could still be very good."

"Exactly," Katsuki said, nodding. "And someone with a massive limit but no control is dangerous—to themselves more than anyone else."

Izuku's brow furrowed slightly. "What about you?"

Katsuki snorted. "High limit. Decent power. I just don't like memorizing spells."

"That tracks," Izuku said, deadpan.

"Hey."

Katsuki continued anyway. "I use simple stuff. Fire, water, explosions. Things that respond fast. I'd rather punch something than recite poetry at it."

Izuku laughed softly, then grew thoughtful again. "So... how is everything measured?"

"There's and orb that measures limit," Katsuki confirmed. "It shines depending on how much mana gets pulled into it."

Izuku looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers—not nervously, but with interest.

"And power?"

Katsuki's mouth curved into something sharp and pleased. "We do tests. And we start figuring out what you're best at."

Izuku smiled.

"Let's do it."

•••

The testing chamber was old—older than most of the castle wings still in use. The stone walls were etched with runes dulled by time, their magic long since settled into the structure itself. At the center of the room stood a pedestal, and atop it rested a crystal orb the size of a large melon.

Clear. Unassuming.

The mage overseeing the test was elderly, their movements careful but practiced. They greeted Katsuki with a respectful nod before turning curious eyes toward Izuku.