Heavy is the Head That Wears the Crown

ii

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The sun was ever-dipping lower and lower in the canvas it called home. Streaks of deep maroon, rich purple, smooth mauve, and more colors of dusk were beginning to paint the sky, overwhelming the soft robin's egg blues easily. Sunbeams tinted the pale clouds into gorgeous pastels, reflections of the setting sun.

Beneath this portrait were two lone figures quickly dancing around one another. A fake left there, a spin shifting into a dip, then voilà: the grand finale.

A seventeen-year-old ash blond Prince swatted a sword out of a green-haired Knight's hand, quick to level his own against her throat.

"True to your name, Prince Katsuki, you're victorious once again," Inko breathed. With a triumphant smirk, Prince Katsuki lowered his sword. He stomped on her sword's handle so it flew into his gloved hand. Katsuki tossed it to the seasoned Knight, who caught it expertly. She looked up at the darkening sky. "It's dusk, Your Highness. Don't your parents have a gift for you?"

"Yeah," grumbled the Prince, sheathing his sword in the real scabbard that hung low on his hips, "'s probably just another shitty history book."

Inko laughed, "Well, there's only one way to find out! Good luck, my Prince!" He lifted his hand in a half-assed wave without turning back around. Katsuki entered the castle through the kitchen door. It was just a faster route to the throne room, where his parents had previously told him to go for his "gift."

The Knight smiled. She had watched him change into the handsome young man he was now. She had watched him grow into his sharp carmine eyes. She had watched him become so skilled he could even beat the Queen herself in combat. She had watched him go through highs and lows. To her, Katsuki was like the son she once had long ago.

Izuku was, and had been for seven years, training to become a Knight with a powerful King known throughout all of the kingdoms as All Might. Watching Inko serve the royal family made it Izuku's dream to one day become a Knight himself. But in Rath, only women could be Knights, so he left to train with the legendary King traipsing through kingdom to kingdom for an apprentice when he was only ten years old. Izuku was due back any day now.

Meanwhile, Katsuki walked through the kitchen. As usual, the staff scrambled into their positions to offer him food or just show their respect. He promptly ignored all of them.

Prince Katsuki knew exactly what his title meant. He was the Prince of Rath, Gods-be-damned, and no one could tell him what to do. Except for maybe the Queen. He barely ever did what his father told him to do. It was beyond difficult—borderline impossible—for the ash blond to listen to a soft-spoken, book-loving scholar such as King Masaru.

He walked into the throne room just in time to see the aforementioned rulers staring at each other with loving eyes, Mitsuki even leaning in to kiss him. Not for the first time, he intervened.

"Get a fucking room, damn nasties," he scoffed. Masaru sighed and rubbed the back of his head as Mitsuki muttered what sounded suspiciously like damned cock-block. Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're late, Katsuki," Mitsuki scorned imperiously, still displeased at how her son just kept interrupting her time with Masaru. Not for the first time, she wondered what made her think having kids was a good idea. "Gods above, brat, it's like you don't even want this gift."

"Knowing you, I probably don't."

Masaru was the peacemaker, per usual. "Now, you two," he chided with the gentleness of a lamb. "Katsuki, I assure you you'll appreciate this gift. My Queen, please be patient with our son."

Mitsuki grumbled and slumped down in her throne. Rather undignified-like, in Katsuki's opinion. "Fine. Alright, brat. Seeing as your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow, Masaru and I had something special made for you in the forge," she explained. The Prince perked up at that. "The gift is in your room. Go put 'em on and come back here. I wanna see what they look like."

"Why did you tell me to come in here if you were just gonna send me to my room?!" groaned Katsuki, his itch for the gift only increasing now that he knew it was from the forge. That meant it was some kind of weapon or armor; two things he very much liked and very much preferred over history books.

Without waiting for an answer from either of his parents, Katsuki hurried up to his room. He opened the door, a flash of gold immediately catching his eye. The Prince tossed the duvet off of his bed to reveal the entirety of the golden object, his eyes immediately widening once he saw what lied beneath.

Two streamlined gauntlets made of gold rested on his bed. They were modeled very much like gloves; not too bulky but not too thin, either. They were perfect.

He tentatively pulled off one of his gloves after much consideration and, with the gentleness one might treat glass, reached down to run his fingers along the smooth metal. His eyebrows rose to his hairline. No explosions.

When Prince Katsuki was only twelve-years-old, he managed to shake off Knight Inko and ventured into the woods east of Rath. Only a few hours into his endeavor, he fell into a lake of ice-cold water that made him feel as if he was being burned alive. It took Katsuki what seemed like agony-riddled eons to drag himself to the shore, fighting against unusually strong currents for a still-watered lake all the while. The second his hands touched the solid ground he so sought, however, explosions shook the packed earth and send clods of dirt and gravel in every direction, dust billowing into the air and scorching his eyes. Absolutely terrified, he ran back home, jerking away wildly whenever something came close to his hands.

The blacksmith at the time—seeing the way the Prince so feared his hands—offered him a pair of her leather gloves without knowing they were exactly what he needed to keep from blowing up everything he touched. Katsuki didn't have the original gloves on to that day, seeing as he grew out of them, but he kept them in a box beneath his bed. His parents didn't know about the box. Katsuki didn't want them to think he was sentimental. Or even worse: he had feelings. Besides rage and irritation, of course.

Suddenly overcome with child-like excitement, Katsuki yanked his other glove off and slipped on the streamlined gauntlets. The insides of them were padded with a thin layer of soft leather. They felt deliciously cool against his usual higher-than-average body temperature. He shakily pressed his splayed palm to the wall, already wincing before he even made contact with it from all the days he woke up and tried to see if his "cursed hands" had gone away. No explosions. Katsuki grinned like a madman. How had the blacksmith done this? It really did seem like she could create anything she wanted to at times.

Upon further inspection, he noticed two small levers near the wrist area. There was a safeguard keeping him from pulling one down, but he pushed it up and out of the way. Then, after realizing he was in his room, Katsuki walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the huge expanse of sea, braced himself, and pulled one of the levers down. There was the explosion he had been so expecting. It was far more powerful and concentrated than his usual ones, as well as blisteringly hot. Katsuki had to press the other gauntlet to his face just to cool it down.

"Holy fuck," he breathed to himself in absolute awe, turning the gauntlets back and forth. Katsuki could now control his explosions. Weaponize them, even. They were no longer his enemy, but his advantages. Inko would stand even less of a chance against him now. He looked back over the water to check if the explosion still blazed, expecting to see at least some small cinders raining down from his explosion.

What he saw instead froze the blood in his veins like ice.

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