A Fantasy {KatsuDeku Au}

Do you know?

The cave was lit up with the warm sparks of a glowing fire. He quickened his pace to the entrance, the bag jumping off his back every few steps. When he came upon the entrance, a fuming, spiky blonde was in the process of throwing the handmade bookshelf to the ground. The shelf did not break with contact, but the books went flying across the ground. One even managed to slide to his feet. He picked up the leather book and read the faded cover, "The Way to Finer Magic."

"You!" He jumped up like a frightened cat, clutching the book to his shirt. The blonde's red glare aimed and his toned body marched forward to the green-headed boy. "Where is it?" His hold on the book tightened. 'What in the world is he going on about?' Midoriya looked away for a second to think, but his injured shoulder was snatched and pulled roughly. "Where is the damn book," white canines snapped in his face.

Midoriya grabs the blonde's forearm, holding it unyieldingly tight. His shoulder was without a doubt on fire, burning hotter when his hand barely moved. "Ah, that hurts! Let go!" He dug his nails desperately into Bakugou's arm to get him to let go. Nothing he did seemed to work because the strong hold on him was getting tighter.

"I will let go once you tell me where the book is," his ruby eyes noticed the strap on the smaller boy's torso. Using his free hand, he took hold of the strap and whipped it over Midoriya's head. Izuku's arm was pushed back suddenly when the bag was resting in Bakugou's hands. "Who the hell even said that you can use my bag?" He sniffed it before dropping it, covering his nose. "Fuck!" The bag accidentally opened, the contents partially escaping. The book fell out first with a thump, then the rest is indescribable.

There was only pure silence between them. Cracking from the fire and the chirping crickets outside filled the silent void. After what seemed to have been ages, he sighed heavily. He bent down to pick up the book and dusted it off. "Look, I know you want to heal up that shoulder faster, but this is not the way to go about it; you have to let it patch up naturally," he explains, picking up the other books scattered at their feet.

"But," he sets up the shelf back into its original spot and rearranged all the books, "it was not a bad idea, for an idiot at least."

The fire was cracking, swaying side to side. Midoriya sat crisscrossed, a huge bump on his head. Still currently smoking from the blow he took from the blonde after everything was cleaned up. "Look, I'm sorry for taking it without permission," the hurting child whined. Bakugou leaned over the fire more, dumping what Izuku collected all day into a single black pot. No response. "You did say to hurry up and leave," he snarked. That drew the hot head to glare at the boy.

{Midoriya}

The tension grew intense between our gazes. Bakugou just seemed pissed at my remark. Perhaps he was mad when I disappeared from the cave, and with his book too. Even though I did those things, he is still here trying to make that healing remedy from the materials I had collected. I touch my shoulder, my mind wandering to the past to that night.

That night when I met the dragon, before we were attacked. Did the villagers stage that ambush knowing I would be there? They could not have known I was out there right? Then does that mean the light I saw came from them after all? All these questions flooded my head like a hurricane raging against innocent shores. The main thing that keeps finding its way to the center of attention is the dragon. A red dragon is rarer than most I've read about. If I remember correctly, the color signifies a type of omen.

He breaks away from my gaze to get up for a bowl I assume. When I think back to the dragon, it always eludes me. Maybe if I ask him, he might have some valuable information! He does live here after all. "How long have you lived here?" Good start. Better go slowly, so he does not assume I am a lunatic or a delusionist.

He grunts briefly before tossing me a wooden bowl. The bowl is lightweight and seems pretty sturdy, in fact, the carving on the outer side is amazing. It had intricate designs carefully etched in like it was carved with great skill and admiration.

"Longer than one might think. Why is it that you want to know?" He eyes me suspiciously, trying to see something that might not be there. I fiddle with the bowl and he just sighs, getting a steel ladle and dipping it into the steaming pot. He mixes it around a bit, then he motions for me to ready my bowl.

I hand out my bowl and he takes it from me, our hands barely touching. He snapped at me like a dog, canines biting down in the space between us. "Don't touch me, ya hear!" I back away fast, scared out of my mind from the outburst of venom dripping from his tone. He pours some of the remedy in the bowl, the stench finally reaching the air around my nose. My nose crinkled on instincts when he brought it closer to me.

"You fucking wanted it so bad, don't act like this now," I slowly grabbed the bowl, my hands a little shaky. "Drink it all at once, if you don't it will not take effect. Drink up, brat," he taunts, an evil glint in his eye. He knows it is going to taste awful, I can tell by the look in his eyes.

Staring down at the red-brown liquid, I gulp out of habit. Whenever I think of eating something disgusting, I gulp nervously. You could say I learned that from my mother when her friends would encourage her to-- I am getting away from myself again; I need to stop before I can't continue thinking straight. Just one huge drink and I am done.

Easier said than done when I brought it to my lips. The smell was so bad, I could barely describe it. Bakugou was tapping the ground in patience, which seemed to be fading slowly. Without thinking, I tipped the bowl up and drank it. I almost choked when it hit my tongue, the taste was worse than the smell ever was. I dropped the bowl and wiped at my tongue, trying to ignore the sick feeling crawling inside me.

"Give it a few minutes to kick in," Bakugou picked up the bowl and went to put it away. He removed the pot from the fire, placing a wooden lid to seal it closed. My shoulder started to feel buzzy, so I unwrapped the bandage covering my wound. It slowly pieced together like cloth being stitched. "And with that, you can leave tomorrow morning, but," he turns very serious, giving me cold-blooded stare, "take my shit again and you are a dead man. Got it?" I nod nervously under his pressure. I need to learn more about the dragon.

"H-have you seen anything strange around these areas?" I watched him set the pot down in the northernmost side of the cave. He glances at me huffing a "no." He has to be lying because there is no way he has not seen anything. Even if he has lived here a long time unless the dragon eludes him too. "If you say so, but I have one more question." No response again from him. "Have you . . . um perhaps seen a . . . dragon?"