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Chapter Text

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed as he watched the elf dart from table to table, her delicate hands balancing a tray of overflowing mugs. Her pink hair was tied up in a messy bun, exposing the soft curve of her neck, the pale skin smooth and almost glowing in the dim firelight. Piercing blue eyes peeked from beneath long pink lashes, constantly moving, scanning the room, keeping track of every patron and order. Her pointed ears, unmistakable under the halo of pink, twitched now and then as she listened to the demands of rowdy customers.

How in the hell had such a beautiful creature ended up working as a tavern wench?

Katsuki grunted under his breath, pulling the hood of his cloak further down to hide his face. The heavy rains had driven him into this backwater tavern, its creaky wooden door and muddy floors hardly a place for someone like him to linger. He had only meant to stay for the night, to get out of the storm and back on the road by morning. But as soon as he stepped inside, she was there.

Her smile had been wide and bright, so out of place in the grimy tavern. “Welcome to the Goblin Arc Tavern! Can I get you an ale?” Her voice had been cheerful, her large blue eyes gleaming, and even though he tried to avoid looking too much, her beauty was hard to ignore.

Without waiting for a response, she had directed him to sit wherever he liked, slipping away to serve other patrons with that same effortless grace. He’d chosen the corner near the hearth, hoping the shadows might hide him. Yet, despite the low light and the rowdy noise, his eyes kept drifting back to her.

There was something almost mesmerizing about the way she moved, a swift grace that no human tavern wench could manage. Her black bodice and cream shirt clung to her slim frame, the brown petticoat swishing just above her black flats as she weaved between the drunken crowd. She grumbled under her breath about the storm outside as she wiped down tables and collected empty mugs, her cheeks flushing as she muttered about how cold and miserable it had been lately.

Katsuki’s mug clanked down on the table, the sound lost in the din. He wasn’t used to sitting still for so long, watching. He wasn't used to noticing people, much less someone like her. His plate sat half-empty beside him, a turkey leg picked clean, and the roasted vegetables long gone. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d eaten until his stomach finally stopped growling.

The elf—Rosie, she had called herself—had come back to him once or twice more with a fresh mug of ale, her expression never faltering, even when the drunks near the bar started raising their voices. She handled them with a smile, though he could see the strain in her jaw, her polite demeanor cracking as the night wore on.

It made him wonder—why was she here? Elves didn’t just leave their realms, not without good reason. And she wasn’t just any elf. High elves were more likely to mingle with humans, but even then, it was rare to see them working in a place like this.

Rosie’s fingers brushed a lock of pink hair behind her ear as she paused at a table, her eyes darting out the window where the rain still pelted down in sheets. Katsuki caught the briefest glimpse of something in her eyes—longing, maybe, or irritation—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

He shifted in his seat, ignoring the growing crowd around him, the clinking of mugs, and the music from the corner where another girl, a human, played a lute. His thoughts circled back to Rosie.

What had driven her to this tavern in the middle of nowhere, serving ale to drunkards while the storm raged outside? Was it desperation? Adventure? Or something else entirely?

Katsuki was no stranger to keeping his past to himself, to hiding in plain sight, but something about her made him curious, against his better judgment. Maybe it was the way she kept her smile even when she was clearly irritated, or the grace with which she moved despite her surroundings.

Whatever it was, he found himself watching her more closely than he intended, the cloak doing little to shield him from the strange pull she had on him. The warmth of the fire made him drowsy, but he didn’t dare close his eyes just yet. The tavern was growing louder, and though he was tempted to stay, the urge to keep moving gnawed at him.

Katsuki's gaze followed Rosie as she moved through the tavern, her silhouette softened by the flickering firelight. There was something captivating about her—a delicate grace in the way she handled the rowdy crowd and the quiet resilience beneath her bright smile. Her pointed ears, pale skin, and slender frame stood out in this grimy place, and yet she seemed oddly at ease.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. How could someone like her—a fae, no less—end up here, lost in the noise and filth of a dingy tavern in the middle of nowhere?

“Is there anything else I can get you?” Her voice was softer now, low enough to cut through the clatter of the room as she approached his table again, her blue eyes catching the light. She lingered for a moment, looking almost expectant.

Katsuki shook his head. “I’ll be leaving pretty soon.”

She nodded, that same gentle smile tugging at her lips. “I hope you enjoyed your meal then.” There was something in her tone that felt genuine, a kindness he wasn’t used to hearing.

For the next hour, he watched her work from his dark corner, the shadows from the fire playing tricks in his mind as he tried to make sense of what drew him to her. Rosie flitted around the room, never breaking her rhythm, though he caught her sneaking glances at the storm raging outside. Perhaps she, too, longed to leave, though her smile never faltered.

Eventually, Katsuki downed the last of his ale, the taste bitter and familiar. The warmth of the fire had settled into his bones, making him sluggish, but he couldn’t stay any longer. The storm had lessened, and the need to be on the road called to him once more.

Without a word, he stood, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. His eyes flicked to Rosie one last time, still busy at the far end of the tavern. He tossed a handful of gold coins onto the table, enough to more than cover his meal and the ale, then made his way to the door.

The cold night air hit him as soon as he stepped outside, the remnants of the rain soaking the muddy streets. His horse waited patiently, tied to a post beneath the shelter of the tavern's overhang. Katsuki moved quickly, mounting the steed with ease as he adjusted the reins and glanced back at the warm glow spilling from the tavern’s windows.

For a brief moment, he hesitated. The thought of staying another night crossed his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. He had no time to linger in small towns, no matter how much they surprised him.

With a sharp tug on the reins, Katsuki urged his horse forward, its hooves splashing through the mud as they rode out into the darkness. The road ahead was long, but the rain had finally eased into a steady drizzle, making the journey more bearable.

As the tavern faded behind him, his thoughts lingered on Rosie—the mysterious elf with the kind smile and piercing blue eyes. She was an enigma he couldn’t quite solve, but as the wind whipped through his cloak and the night swallowed him whole, Katsuki knew he wouldn't forget her anytime soon.

He rode through the night, the memory of her still haunting him like a distant melody carried on the wind.

Setting up camp in the middle of the woods was a part of being an adventurer. He had found a clearing near a river, where he had already set up a fire, he hunted some deer and while it roasted. He laid out his bedroll and was eager to eat, bathe and then sleep as he had been riding nonstop for two days since he completed his last request.

Which was to find an expensive amulet in a cavern that was being guarded by wyverns. Obviously he took the request and located them in the Shinowa mountains and was able to quickly kill the nest just to get that damn amulet. He had traveled the last two days covered in their blood and fur.

He scarfed down the deer and grabbed his other clothes from the saddle bag and made his way to the river. Katsuki was eager to bathe and get some sleep as he planned on traveling to the nearest town for supplies.

Katsuki weaved through the trees, the sound of the rushing river guiding him forward. The promise of cold, clean water after days of relentless travel almost made him smile. As he broke through the last line of trees, he stopped short, eyes widening at the sight before him.

He dropped the clothes he’d been holding, too stunned to do anything but stare.

There, in the middle of the river, was a woman—a naked woman. She stood waist-deep in the shimmering water, her soft pink hair cascading over her bare shoulders as she ran her fingers through it, humming softly to herself. Her voice, though quiet, seemed to blend with the gentle flow of the river, creating an almost hypnotic melody.

The moonlight filtered through the trees above, casting a silver glow over her, making her skin look as if it were carved from pale, translucent marble. Each movement she made, from the way her fingers glided through her hair to the soft rise and fall of her chest, was unearthly, graceful—like something out of a dream.

Katsuki swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, his heart beating a little faster. He tried to tear his gaze away, tried to remind himself that staring was the last thing he should be doing, but something about her held him captive.

Her pink hair, now damp, glowed faintly in the moonlight, taking on a silvery sheen as it fell over her back. He felt his breath hitch, her beauty almost too much to take in all at once—her slender figure, the curve of her neck, the way the water lapped at her waist as though even the river was drawn to her.

Katsuki’s mind raced. There was no mistaking who she was. He’d recognize that ethereal beauty anywhere. It was Rosie—the elf from the tavern.

His lips parted, her name almost spilling from them before he caught himself. He couldn’t believe it. Here she was, the same woman he had met only days ago in a grimy tavern, now standing before him like a vision, far removed from the bustling, noisy world they’d shared.

For a moment, all he could do was watch, mesmerized by the sight of her, as if she were something too perfect, too rare to disturb. The world around him fell away, leaving only the moonlit water, the soft hum of her voice, and the image of her bathing under the stars.

Shit.

He shouldn’t be staring at her.

Katsuki’s heart pounded as he stood frozen, his back turned toward the river. He cursed himself for staring too long at the elf bathing in the moonlit water. Of all people to run into in the middle of nowhere, it had to be her—Rosie, the tavern wench. His mind raced, a swirl of exhaustion, surprise, and the lingering image of her ethereal beauty burned into his memory.

“Is someone there?” Rosie’s voice, soft yet sharp with caution, broke the silence, and Katsuki swore under his breath.

He must’ve said her name out loud without realizing it.

“I just came to bathe,” Katsuki muttered, keeping his back to her, eyes fixed on the ground. “But I can come back later.” His tone was gruff, though the lie was obvious. He didn’t want to wait—he was exhausted, still reeking of wyvern blood and sweat, and all he wanted was to wash off and collapse into sleep. But there was no way he was going to stick around and make things even more awkward.

Behind him, he heard a splash of water, followed by soft rustling, likely Rosie reaching for her clothes or something to cover herself. He clenched his fists, inwardly cursing his luck. Why was he running into her here of all places?

Before he could fully retreat back toward camp, a rustling sound came from the trees—something that wasn’t caused by wind or an animal. It was too deliberate, too heavy. Katsuki’s senses sharpened instantly, and he turned his head just in time to see dark shapes darting between the trees.

Goblins.

"Shit," Katsuki hissed, scanning for his sword only to remember he had left his weapons back at camp, assuming he’d have a peaceful bath.

Damn it!

His mind raced. Goblins were small, nasty creatures, but they were vicious in packs, and there were five of them closing in fast.

“Stay back!” Katsuki called out instinctively to Rosie, stepping toward the riverbank, his muscles tensing. His eyes darted to the camp, but there was no time to run for his weapons. The goblins were already too close, their eyes glowing in the dim moonlight as they hissed and snarled, rusty blades and jagged spears in hand.

But before he could do anything—before he could even think about how to fight them without his weapons—a sharp twang split the air. In the blink of an eye, a goblin yelped and collapsed to the ground, an arrow buried deep in its chest.

Katsuki’s eyes widened as another twang followed, and then another. Each shot hit its mark with deadly precision. He turned, stunned, to see Rosie standing at the water’s edge, not a trace of fear on her face. Her longbow was raised, her expression calm and focused as she drew back another arrow and released it with a deadly grace.

Another goblin fell, clutching its throat as it gurgled a final breath.

Katsuki could only watch in shock as Rosie continued firing, her movements swift and fluid, each shot finding its target with ease. The final two goblins didn’t even have time to react before they, too, were felled by her arrows, their small bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds.

It was over in seconds.

Rosie lowered her bow, her chest rising and falling as she took a slow breath, her eyes scanning the area to make sure there were no more threats. Her pink hair, damp and cascading over her shoulders, shimmered under the moonlight, but it was her expression that caught Katsuki off guard the most—calm, collected, and completely unphased.

He stood there, dumbstruck, for a moment longer than he should have. The woman he had thought was merely a tavern wench, a high elf with an innocent smile, had just taken down five goblins without breaking a sweat.

Rosie’s eyes met his, and she raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to say something.

“Were you going to just stand there the whole time?” she asked, her voice carrying a playful edge now that the danger had passed.

Katsuki scowled, quickly pulling himself together, though he was still reeling from what he’d just witnessed. “I left my weapons back at camp,” he grumbled, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him.

Plus, it's not like he could use his magic right now. 

Rosie glanced at the fallen goblins, then back at him, a small, amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Good thing I didn’t,” she said, slinging her bow over her shoulder.

For a moment, silence settled between them, the crackling of the nearby river the only sound cutting through the night air. Katsuki, still shaken, couldn’t help but wonder—who was she really? A tavern wench didn’t take down goblins with the precision of a seasoned warrior.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks,” he muttered, glancing back at the goblin bodies scattered around them.

Rosie smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Next time, don’t forget your weapons. You might not get so lucky.” With that, she bent down to retrieve her clothes from the riverbank, pulling on a long shirt that hung loosely over her slender frame.

As she walked past him, Katsuki caught the subtle scent of rainwater mixed with roses, an intoxicating fragrance that lingered in the air long after she had disappeared into the woods. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts swirling in his mind. There was no time for distractions—he had to clean up, especially now that goblins were lurking nearby.

Quickly, he stripped off his bloodied clothes, tossing them into the river before stepping into the cool water. The rush of it was refreshing, washing away the grime and sweat from his body, but he knew he needed to be swift. If those goblins were nearby, he couldn't afford to be caught unprepared. Using his own weight as leverage, he scrubbed his skin and hurriedly rinsed away the last remnants of the wyvern battle.

Once clean, he dressed in his black pants and a simple white shirt, the fabric feeling oddly comforting against his skin. As he walked back to camp, he noticed a white horse grazing beside his own dark steed. A bedroll lay on the opposite side of the fire, and there was Rosie, sitting cross-legged as she braided her hair, a soft melody escaping her lips.

“What the hell are you doing?” he blurted, incredulous as he approached.

She looked up, beaming at him, unfazed by his abruptness. “There’s a whole goblin nest not too far east from here. I tracked it and decided I’d much rather make camp with someone in case they decide to attack.”

Katsuki watched her, a mix of admiration and annoyance flaring within him. As she finished braiding her hair, he couldn’t help but notice her outfit—a sterling silver bralette that exposed her toned abdomen and a flowing white skirt that barely concealed her assets, held together by shimmering silver pins. Elves were known for their lack of modesty, but seeing it in person was still a jolt to his senses.

He turned away, unwilling to let himself be distracted. “You could’ve just camped somewhere else,” he muttered, though a part of him acknowledged that her plan wasn’t terrible. Given the goblin threat, it was indeed better to have a partner to keep watch through the night.

“You take the first watch then,” he grumbled, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling at him.

As he slipped into his bedroll, he watched Rosie pull out a blue leather book from her pack. The firelight flickered across her features, casting playful shadows that danced over her face. She seemed completely at ease, immersed in her reading, her expression a mix of concentration and calm.

Katsuki’s mind raced.

Just what the hell had he gotten himself into?

He was too tired to consider the implications of sharing a camp with a high elf who had so easily taken down five goblins. He tried to shake the thoughts away, letting the warmth of the fire wrap around him like a blanket.

With one last glance at Rosie, who was now completely absorbed in her book, he closed his eyes. The crackling fire and the soft rustle of leaves provided a comforting backdrop as he surrendered to sleep, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion of the past few days.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, in this unexpected companionship, Katsuki allowed himself to drift into dreams, his thoughts filled with the lingering scent of roses and rainwater.

Chapter Text

Katsuki awoke to the bright sunlight streaming through the trees, squinting against the glare as he pushed himself up. The first thing he noticed was Rosie, already dressed in fitted black shorts and a white ruffled off-the-shoulder blouse, accentuated by a tight black corset. She was lacing up knee-high black boots, a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder, a large bow propped nearby, and a sheathed sword resting against her leg.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she grinned, her cheerfulness grating on him. “I was about to wake you up so we can get on the road.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, a groan escaping his lips. Why the hell was she so cheery in the morning? It was barely an hour after sunrise, and he felt like a grizzly bear waking from hibernation.

Standing, he quickly packed up his bedroll, watching as she dumped water from the river over the fire, effectively extinguishing the last remnants of warmth. He changed into black baggy pants, tucking them into laced boots, and pulled on a sleeveless tight shirt that showcased the black tattoos scattered across his skin.

Mounting his steed, Dynamite, he couldn’t help but notice Rosie humming a light tune beside him as they started down the road. She seemed completely unfazed by the morning chill, her bright blue eyes scanning the dense forest around them with an alertness that made him feel sluggish in comparison.

Katsuki kept his mouth shut, still waking up fully. He appreciated that she’d let him sleep through the entire night despite their earlier agreement to take turns. But it also irked him that she was now traveling alongside him, a development he hadn’t anticipated.

As they rode on in silence, he couldn’t shake the nagging curiosity that tugged at him. What had made her go from leaving her realm to working as a tavern wench, and now to being an adventurer? The questions swirled in his mind, but he pushed them down, unwilling to voice them.

“We should make it to Kaminla by lunch,” she said, glancing over at him with that same bright smile. “Would you want to stop and get lunch since we skipped breakfast?”

As much as he wanted to snap at her to just let him be, the truth was he was hungry—though he would never admit that to her. He owed her for saving his ass last night, and skipping breakfast had only compounded his irritation.

“If that’s what you want,” he grumbled, his tone curt.

Rosie’s eyes sparkled with delight at his reluctant agreement, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance. She had saved him, and now here they were, two unlikely companions on the road. Katsuki took a deep breath, shaking off the irritation. He would pay her back for allowing him to sleep with lunch, then head to the adventurer's guild to choose out the next job.

As they rode, the trees began to thin out, and the morning sun filtered through, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Katsuki glanced sideways at Rosie, trying to focus on the ride instead of the unsettling feeling of having a high elf at his side. The day was just beginning, and he could only hope that the adventures ahead would keep his mind off her relentless cheerfulness.

Katsuki watched as Rosie hummed quietly to herself, content to let the road and the passing forest fill the silence between them. He was grateful, at least, that she wasn’t the chatty type—her quiet humming was better than constant conversation. They had only stopped once for their horses to drink from a nearby stream, and as she fed her horse, Divine, a shiny red apple, she offered him one for Dynamite. Katsuki's brows furrowed in irritation, but knowing his supplies were running low, he begrudgingly accepted.

Dynamite eagerly took the apple from her hand, munching contently as Rosie scratched the patch of hair between his eyes. Katsuki scowled, watching as his horse, usually indifferent to others, nuzzled into her touch.

"Traitorous bastard," he muttered under his breath, glaring at Dynamite’s sudden affection for the elf.

When they resumed riding, Katsuki noticed Dynamite moving closer to Rosie and her horse, practically following her lead. He let out an annoyed huff but said nothing as they rode through the forest, the trees finally thinning out as the city of Kaminla appeared in the distance.

Kaminla was a bustling hub, filled with locals and adventurers alike, all weaving through the marketplace or huddled in small groups discussing quests. Katsuki took the lead as they entered the city, heading directly toward the tavern he had visited before: The Goblin’s Pub. The place was busy, full of loud conversations and the clinking of mugs, adventurers filling the tables and barstools. Tying their horses outside, he didn’t miss the glances others gave Rosie as she dismounted her horse, the tightness of her shorts drawing attention.

Katsuki shot seething glares at the men whose eyes lingered a little too long, making sure they understood the unspoken warning in his red eyes. Most ducked their heads under his glare, though a few braver souls met his stare from behind their ale mugs.

They found a corner table, and Katsuki slumped back into his seat with a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the fact that she sat across from him. A human tavern wench came to take their orders, and Katsuki quickly muttered, “An ale for me, and a turkey leg with a steak.”

“I’ll take an ale as well, and the same as him,” Rosie added with a friendly smile toward the tavern wench, who jotted it down and hurried away.

Once their food was ordered, Rosie leaned forward slightly, her curious eyes fixed on him. “So, what’s next?” she asked.

Katsuki shrugged, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the edge of the table. “I plan on going to the Adventurers Guild after this. Gonna get a new request.”

Her eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together, beaming. “I am as well! What a coincidence!”

Katsuki raised a brow, lowering his feet as the tavern wench returned with their ales. “You’re joining?”

Rosie giggled, taking a sip of her ale. “I’m already an adventurer. Been one for the last two years.”

Katsuki nearly choked on his ale, coughing and slapping his chest as the liquid went down the wrong way. He blinked at her, eyes watering slightly as he tried to recover. “You? An adventurer?” He squinted at her, trying to make sense of it.

“Why the hell were you working as a tavern wench, then?” he asked, his suspicion growing. It didn’t add up. An elf as an adventurer, sure, but moonlighting as a tavern wench? There had to be more to it.

Rosie’s grin widened, clearly amused by his confusion. “I was undercover,” she said, lowering her voice slightly as if she were sharing a secret. “There’s been a notorious bandit frequenting The Goblin Arc Tavern, and I took a request to track him down. I figured the best way to get close to him was to blend in.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “A bandit?”

She nodded, taking another sip of her ale. “Yeah. He’s been involved in a series of thefts and murders along the western trade routes. Rumor was, he’d been hiding, and the tavern was one of his usual stops.”

“So you just… pretended to be a tavern wench?” Katsuki still couldn’t believe it. She had seemed so genuinely cheery back at the tavern, it didn’t seem like an act.

“Yep!” Rosie shrugged, leaning back in her chair now. “It’s not that different from adventuring, really. You get to listen to a lot of people’s stories, and sometimes you learn more than you’d think.” She winked at him, her pointed ears twitching. “And it worked. I found him. Sent word to the client, and they took care of the rest.”

Katsuki took a long drink of his ale, still trying to wrap his head around it. He felt a mix of begrudging respect and mild annoyance. “So you’re telling me the whole time I was watching you run around with mugs of ale, you were on a job?”

Rosie chuckled. “Pretty much. Not the most glamorous job, but it paid well.”

Katsuki scowled into his mug, feeling like he’d been played. “You could’ve warned me.”

“I could’ve,” she agreed, her smile mischievous, “but where’s the fun in that?”

He just grunted, a bit peeved. So he was right in his assumption that a high elf as herself wouldn’t stoop so low to become a tavern wench.

“Wait,” her brows furrowed. “You were watching me all night?”

Shit.

He slipped again. He really needed to keep his mouth shut.

“Just to make sure that I got all the ale I wanted.” He lied, hoping she bought it as it was half the truth.

Their food arrived, and Katsuki wasted no time digging into his turkey leg, letting the savory flavors drown out his irritation. Rosie, for her part, seemed content to eat in peace, her previous words lingering in the air.

He eyed her as she ate, still trying to piece together the enigma that was Rosie. One minute she was a cheerful tavern wench, the next a competent archer saving him from goblins, and now an undercover adventurer hunting down bandits.

Who the hell had he gotten himself tangled up with?

“Well,” he muttered, finally breaking the silence, “guess I owe you lunch for last night, anyway.”

Rosie gave him a playful smile. “Consider us even.”

Rosie followed her companion through the bustling streets of Kaminla, her boots tapping against the cobblestone as they weaved through the crowd. Her eyes subtly flicked toward him, tracing the lines of his rugged frame.

He was handsome in a fierce, almost untamed way. He carried an aura of quiet strength, his presence enough to command respect without needing to say much. The man of few words had a build that matched his demeanor—slim but muscular, toned in a way that spoke of years of battle-hardened experience.

His skin was fair, though it had the roughness of someone who'd spent more time fighting than lounging. His sandy blond hair was short and spiked, a bit wild, with messy bangs that fell just over his intense red eyes. Those eyes—sharp, focused, often narrowed as if he were constantly analyzing everything around him, ready for anything. He towered over her easily, his imposing height making her feel small in comparison, though it didn't bother her. In fact, she found herself intrigued by the silent intensity he radiated.

And then there were the tattoos. Black, ritualistic symbols snaked around his arms, their intricate designs wrapping around his biceps like marks of power, or perhaps memories of battles won. The ink contrasted starkly against his sleeveless, tight black tank top, which clung to his body in all the right places, emphasizing the hard lines of his muscles. His baggy pants and knee-high combat boots completed the look, giving him a dangerous, battle-ready air.

Rosie wouldn't admit it aloud, but she had watched him get dressed that morning—watched the way his body moved with effortless strength. The memory sent a slight warmth to her cheeks, but she quickly shook it off. He's a warrior, nothing more.

Despite his often gruff and irritable demeanor, she didn't mind. She liked challenges, and something about his moody silence made her think there was more to Katsuki than the rough exterior he presented. She wondered, as they walked toward the Adventurers Guild, what it would take to break through that wall he kept around himself.

Would he ever warm up to her?

As they entered the guild, Rosie followed him closely, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the request board. She always loved the moment of scanning through the flyers, seeing what new adventures awaited. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, scanning through the various quests, excited by the prospect of new journeys.

A moment later, she noticed a figure standing beside her—another adventurer, by the looks of it. He had navy blue hair, wore square glasses, and had a stern expression, his eyes scanning the same request she had been eyeing. It was for a 1,000 gold reward, a job to protect a carriage from bandits.

Before she could reach for it, the man grabbed the parchment. She yanked her hand back, startled, and looked up to find him blinking down at her with a frown.

"I didn't realize you were also going for the request," he said, his tone neutral, though polite.

Rosie smiled, waving it off. "It's fine. You take it."

The man's stern expression softened, and he extended his hand. "I'm Iida."

"Rosie," she replied, shaking his hand. "And really, you grabbed it first. It's yours."

"Thank you. Perhaps we'll cross paths again," he said with a nod before turning to leave.

Rosie watched him go, her gaze returning to the board. She let out a quiet sigh. The pay didn't really bother her, but that particular request had caught her interest. Still, there were plenty of others. She scanned the board again, hoping to find something new and exciting.

Before she could choose another request, her thoughts were interrupted by her companion's sharp voice. "We're taking this one," he snapped, tearing a parchment from the board and thrusting it into her hands.

Rosie blinked at the parchment, the suddenness catching her off guard. "Now hurry up, we have shopping to do before we set off," he added, already turning his back to head to the front desk.

She glanced down at the paper in her hands, her eyes widening at the details. The request was far more dangerous than a simple escort mission:

Track down a sorcerer who has been capturing young virgins for sacrifice.

Location: Malita.

Malita was a remote, eerie place located in the northwest of Astela. The trip would take at least two days, possibly more if the terrain was difficult. It was a serious mission, and Rosie wasn't entirely sure why he had chosen it, or why he wanted to travel with her at all.

Puzzled, she hurried after him as they left the guild, catching up with him as they navigated through the crowded street. "We're going together?" she asked, her voice curious. "Why?"

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her with an annoyed scowl. "You saved my life," he growled. "Until I save yours, I'm not leaving your side."

Rosie blinked up at him, startled by his intensity. "What… for?" she asked, genuinely confused by his sudden declaration.

"Are you stupid?" He snapped, his tone harsh but clearly frustrated. "I refuse to be indebted to anyone, especially for a life debt."

Her eyes widened slightly in realization. He was referring to the goblins from the night before—the fight by the river. She had saved him, in a way, since he hadn't had his weapons. The idea of him feeling so strongly about a debt amused her, though she kept the thought to herself.

"I see," she hummed, her smile soft.

Before he could snap at her again, Rosie turned and continued walking toward the shops, her mind already thinking ahead to the supplies they would need. As she walked, she couldn't help but feel a small sense of curiosity toward him. He might have been irritable and gruff, but there was something deeper beneath that.

She could feel it.

Stopping to glance back at him, she tilted her head and called, "If we're to travel together, at least tell me your name."

"Katsuki," he ground out, clearly annoyed at her persistence.

Rosie's face lit up with a beaming smile. "Katsuki! Well, then—let's get going!" she giggled, her bright energy a sharp contrast to his dark mood as she led the way toward the shops.

Despite his scowl, Katsuki couldn't help but watch her walk ahead, his thoughts swirling with mild irritation—and something else he couldn't quite place.

Chapter Text

Katsuki sat hunched over by the fire, his usual scowl deepening as his gaze lingered on Rosie across the flames. She was seated comfortably on her bedroll, legs crossed as she played her flute, a soft melody drifting through the stillness of the night. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on her face, illuminating her delicate features, her ears twitching every now and then in a way that he couldn’t quite ignore.

Her pointed ears fascinated him, though he’d never admit it. Every few seconds, they’d twitch subtly, responding to something—her emotions, maybe? Katsuki knew little about elves; they were a mysterious race, ancient and aloof, rarely seen outside their sacred realms. Whatever information there was on them came from old stories or rumors. He'd never been close to one before, and watching Rosie was a strange reminder of how little he understood about her kind.

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me?” Rosie’s voice broke through his thoughts, her head tilted slightly, her eyes catching his through the crackling flames. Her tone was teasing, though there was genuine curiosity in her gaze.

Katsuki grunted, looking away as if the question had annoyed him, though in truth, he wasn’t sure how to answer. His red eyes shifted toward the fire, the heat of the flames warming his face. “Why the hell are your ears twitching like that?” he muttered.

Rosie blinked in surprise, and then her face flushed, the pink deepening along her pale cheeks. “Oh,” she began, a bit embarrassed. “It’s how we express emotions. When I’m happy or relaxed… well, they twitch. It’s something we elves do.”

Katsuki raised a brow, his expression unchanged but his curiosity piqued. So it’s her emotions, he thought, trying to ignore the odd warmth spreading in his chest.

He grunted again, not offering any further response. His gaze returned to the fire, watching the flames crackle and snap as they ate away at the wood. The fire reminded him of his own powers, the heat familiar but always dangerous, threatening to consume everything if he wasn’t careful.

“We should get some sleep,” he said abruptly, his voice gruff as he shifted to grab his bedroll. His body was sore from the long day of riding, and his muscles ached with exhaustion, though he’d never admit it aloud.

Rosie nodded in agreement, her expression softening. She carefully set her flute down beside her and reached for her own bedroll, her movements graceful and unhurried. “I suppose you're right,” she hummed as she settled in, wrapping herself in the soft fabric with a content sigh. Her ears twitched once more, and she glanced at Katsuki with a gentle smile before closing her eyes.

Katsuki watched her for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on the peaceful expression on her face. It annoyed him, how at ease she was with him despite his constant irritability. But there was something about Rosie that made it hard to stay irritated for long.

With a frustrated huff, he threw himself down onto his own bedroll, staring up at the starry sky above them. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of the leaves in the trees and the soft crackling of the fire. His mind wandered briefly to the mission ahead—the sorcerer, the sacrifices, the danger—but exhaustion soon crept in, pulling him toward sleep.

Just before his eyes closed, he caught a glimpse of Rosie, now fast asleep, her ears finally still, her breathing steady and calm.

“Stupid elf,” he muttered to himself, though there was no real bite to his words. With that, Katsuki closed his eyes, letting the weight of sleep overtake him.

Katsuki had grown accustomed to Rosie’s incessant humming during their travels, her voice filling the silence of the forest as their horses trotted beneath the canopy of trees. It was irritating at first, but eventually, the sound blended into the background—until that peace was shattered by a scream, sharp and shrill, piercing through the woods like a blade.

Rosie was on her feet before Katsuki could even process what had happened. She dropped her bowl of food, grabbed her bow with a fluid motion, and bolted in the direction of the scream, her legs carrying her swiftly and silently through the trees.

“Damn that meddling elf,” Katsuki growled under his breath, cursing her impulsiveness. He tossed his own bowl aside and ran after her, the forest blurring as he pushed himself to keep up. For all her delicate appearance, Rosie was fast. Her light footsteps barely made a sound on the forest floor as her pink hair streamed behind her like a banner.

Within moments, they burst into a clearing, and Katsuki’s eyes narrowed at the sight before them.

A small group of travelers had been attacked. Their wagon was overturned, its contents scattered across the ground. A woman, pale with terror, was frantically trying to shield her two children from a horde of snarling goblins. The smallest child, no more than five, had already been seized by one of the creatures. The goblin mounted a horse and took off, the little girl screaming and flailing in its grasp as her mother’s cries of desperation echoed through the trees.

Rosie didn’t hesitate, her sharp eyes locking onto the goblin on horseback. Without a word, she notched an arrow and sprinted after them, her movements swift and sure as she disappeared into the woods.

Katsuki, however, focused on the goblins still terrorizing the mother and her remaining children. His blood boiled, and he felt the familiar heat building in his palms. He clenched his fists tightly, letting the fire rise within him. His irritation had now flared into anger, and these goblins were about to pay the price.

The first goblin lunged toward the mother, its jagged knife raised high. Katsuki growled low in his throat, and with a flash of his hand, he unleashed a powerful explosion. A burst of fiery energy blasted the creature off its feet, sending it crashing into a nearby tree. The goblin let out a pained screech before it crumpled into a lifeless heap on the ground.

The other goblins froze momentarily, glancing at their fallen comrade before turning their hateful eyes toward Katsuki. But they were too late. With a roar, he ignited his palms, flames licking up his arms as he charged toward them.

“Get away from them!” he bellowed, his voice a deep snarl as he released a blast of fire. The ground beneath him scorched as he sent a fiery explosion toward two goblins, their bodies engulfed in the searing heat. They shrieked in agony, their twisted forms collapsing into smoldering ash.

The mother clutched her children tightly, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe as she watched the display of power. Katsuki’s presence was terrifying, but he was their savior at this moment.

Only one goblin remained, circling the wagon with wild eyes, its filthy blade clutched tightly in its clawed hand. Katsuki turned to face it, his body crackling with barely contained energy.

The goblin, realizing it was outmatched, let out a high-pitched wail and charged recklessly at him. But Katsuki was faster. He swung his arm, and with a flick of his wrist, a concentrated blast of fire hit the creature square in the chest, knocking it backward with a forceful explosion. The goblin’s body disintegrated into ash before it hit the ground.

Panting slightly, Katsuki let the flames die down, the heat dissipating from his hands. The clearing was silent now, save for the soft sobbing of the woman, who held her children close. He spared them a glance before turning his attention to the woods where Rosie had vanished.

He cursed under his breath again.

Rosie had run after the goblin who had taken the little girl, and now she was out of sight. He didn’t want to leave her alone, but she was capable—he’d seen that much. Still, the nagging thought of her safety gnawed at him.

Just then, he heard the sharp twang of a bowstring in the distance, followed by a guttural screech. A moment later, Rosie emerged from the trees, the little girl cradled safely in her arms. Her pink hair was windswept, and her breathing was ragged, but she was unharmed.

The goblin that had stolen the girl lay dead a few feet behind her, an arrow buried deep in its throat.

“I got her,” Rosie called out, her voice soft but steady. The girl clung to her, sobbing quietly into her shoulder. “She’s safe.”

Katsuki walked over, the mother gasping as she saw her daughter alive and well. Rosie gently handed the girl over, and the family was reunited, their tearful thanks barely registering in Katsuki’s mind. He was too busy watching Rosie, her calm composure as she stood there, unflinching, despite the chaos they had just faced.

For a moment, he considered saying something, but instead, he simply grunted, “You’re lucky I was here.”

Rosie gave him a tired smile, her ears twitching slightly. “I’d say the same to you, Katsuki.”

He scowled, though this time, the edge was softer. “Tch. Let’s get going.”

He ignored her giggling as she waved goodbye to the mother and her children, before she followed him through the woods back to their camp.

They arrived in Malita by mid-afternoon, two days after the attack in the woods. The city had a heavy, unsettling quiet about it. As they guided their horses through the cobblestone streets, Rosie noticed the way the townsfolk scurried into their homes, doors and windows shutting tightly. Shops were closing early, shutters slamming, and the few people they passed on the street wore grim expressions.

Rosie frowned as she took in the solemn atmosphere. It was clear that fear had gripped the town, likely due to the sorcerer they had been tasked to hunt down. She turned to Katsuki, who, as usual, looked as irritated as ever.

“Perhaps we should ask around for more information on this sorcerer,” she suggested softly.

Katsuki just grunted in response, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He wasn’t the type to talk much, but he didn’t have to—Rosie had already made up her mind.

Handing the reins of Divine, her horse, over to him, she strode toward the first man she saw, a tall, weary-looking figure with brown hair and eyes. His face was lined with worry as he watched her approach.

“Sir?” Rosie called out.

The man frowned, his gaze sweeping over her, taking in her delicate appearance. “Young lady, I suggest you hide tonight. It’s not safe for someone like you to be wandering the streets alone.”

Rosie gave him a kind smile. “Is this because of the sorcerer?”

The man’s face darkened, and he nodded gravely. “Yes. He’s been kidnapping young girls—virgins—all from this town for the past two weeks. Every night, without fail, he takes two.”

Rosie’s expression hardened. “And where does he take them?”

“Into the woods,” the man said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, as if the very mention of the place was cursed. “Beyond the stone bridge, to the mountain. No one who’s gone after him has ever come back. By midnight, the girls are sacrificed.”

“Does he choose them randomly?”

The man sighed, nodding. “We think so. The only thing we know is that all the girls are above the age of twelve. No one’s safe if they’re that age or older.”

Rosie thanked the man, her mind already working on a plan as she returned to Katsuki. He stood by the post where he had tied their horses, a deep scowl etched across his features. His arms were still crossed, and he looked as though he was ready to punch something—or someone.

“What’d you find out?” he grumbled as she approached.

Rosie relayed the information to him, her voice calm and steady. “From what I gathered, the sorcerer kidnaps two virgins every night, seemingly at random. All of the girls are above the age of twelve, and he sacrifices them at midnight.”

Katsuki’s scowl deepened, but before he could respond, Rosie added, “I already have a plan.”

He raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Which is?”

“I’ll act as bait,” she said with a determined gleam in her eye. “We know he targets young virgin women. I’ll put myself out there as a target, and you can follow the sorcerer when he tries to take me. That way, we’ll find his lair and stop him before he sacrifices anyone else.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you a fucking idiot?”

Rosie blinked, taken aback by his sudden outburst.

“That’s your plan?” he growled, his voice low and laced with anger. “You think you can just waltz into a sorcerer’s trap, let him take you, and everything’s going to go fine? That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not dumb,” Rosie snapped back, her own frustration bubbling up. “It’s practical! You can’t track him without knowing where he’s going, and this is the best way to get close to him.”

“Close to him?” Katsuki echoed with disbelief, his red eyes blazing. “You’re talking about walking into a psychopath’s hands! This isn’t a game, Rosie. You could die.”

“I won’t die!” Rosie shot back, her voice rising. “You’ll be there. You’ll follow me. Isn’t that the whole point?”

Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides. “And what happens if I lose you? What happens if something goes wrong and I’m not fast enough to save your reckless ass, huh? You’re not thinking this through!”

Rosie glared at him, her hands balling into fists. “I have thought this through! We don’t have time to sit around waiting for the perfect plan. More girls are going to die if we don’t act now. I’m not going to stand by and let that happen!”

“You’re not a martyr!” Katsuki barked, his voice a mixture of anger and something else—something more protective. “You don’t need to throw yourself into danger just because you think you can handle it.”

Rosie’s face softened, though her resolve didn’t waver. “I’m not trying to be a martyr, Katsuki. I’m trying to help. And I trust you to keep me safe.”

That last sentence seemed to catch him off guard. His scowl faltered for a moment, his eyes flickering with something he quickly buried.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “Tch. You’re insane.”

Rosie smiled, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “Maybe. But it’s the best shot we’ve got.”

Katsuki stared at her, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack. He wanted to argue more, to tell her how reckless this was. But he could see the determination in her eyes—the same stubborn resolve that had driven her into that goblin fight days ago.

Finally, he sighed, his hands dropping to his sides in reluctant defeat. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong, I’m dragging you out of there, no questions asked.”

Rosie beamed at him. “Deal.”

Katsuki shook his head, muttering under his breath as they walked toward the inn. “Still a stupid plan.”

The night was unnervingly still in the small inn room, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window. Rosie had already settled into bed, wearing her usual soft sleeping attire. Her hair was spread like golden silk across the pillow, her breathing slow and even as sleep began to claim her.

From the shadows in the corner, Katsuki watched. His glowing red eyes narrowed as they tracked her every movement, every subtle rise and fall of her chest. His body was tense, muscles coiled, ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble. But despite his sharp gaze, there was an uneasy feeling gnawing at his gut. Rosie, in her naive optimism, had no idea what kind of danger she’d just thrown herself into, and it irritated him more than he cared to admit.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes never leaving her sleeping form. The room felt thick with anticipation, the silence oppressive as if the air itself was holding its breath. Katsuki’s senses were on high alert, every creak of the floorboards outside, every distant murmur in the tavern below making his pulse quicken.

Damn this elf.

Damn her for her recklessness.

And yet, despite his frustration, Katsuki couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that admired her resolve. Stupid as it was, she had thrown herself into danger for the sake of others. He could understand that impulse all too well, even if he hated the thought of her becoming another sacrifice.

Suddenly, a chill ran through the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, the once faint rustle of the wind outside now eerily silent. Something was coming. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his senses heightened as the softest of whispers began to fill the room, like a breath of death itself.

Then, from the far corner, the shadows stirred, twisting unnaturally. Katsuki’s body tensed as a figure emerged—a tall, gaunt man cloaked in dark, tattered robes. His skin was deathly pale, and his eyes glowed an unnatural crimson, matching the blood-red sigils carved into his flesh. The sorcerer had arrived.

Katsuki’s hands clenched into fists, rage already burning in his chest. He wanted to lunge at the bastard right then and there, to blast him into ashes for even daring to set foot in this room. But he held himself back, teeth grinding, knowing that any move he made now would ruin the plan.

For now, he had to wait.

The sorcerer moved with an eerie grace, his long, bony fingers tracing the air in intricate patterns as dark magic flowed from his fingertips. Katsuki watched helplessly as a soft, shimmering mist settled over Rosie, who was still peacefully unaware of the danger around her.

“Sleep, little elf,” the sorcerer whispered, his voice a sinister hiss. A sleeping curse.

Rosie’s body stilled completely, her breathing growing even deeper as the magic took hold. Katsuki’s fury flared, but he forced himself to stay rooted in place.

He had to wait.

He had to follow.

The sorcerer approached Rosie, his crimson eyes raking over her sleeping form with a sickening hunger. He knelt beside her bed, his bony fingers brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. Katsuki’s jaw clenched so hard it felt like his teeth might crack. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to tear the bastard apart.

“So pure… so ancient,” the sorcerer muttered, his voice dripping with greed. “An elven sacrifice. You will be my greatest offering. Once I have you, I will need no more of these pathetic human girls.”

The sorcerer’s fingers trailed lower, his gaze lingering on her as though savoring the moment. His words turned darker, perverse and vile as he leaned closer to Rosie’s sleeping form. “So beautiful... untouched by mortal filth. It will be a pleasure to end your life.”

Katsuki’s entire body trembled with rage. His vision blurred with a red haze as the sorcerer’s filthy hand slid lower, tracing the line of Rosie’s collarbone. He wanted to incinerate the bastard right then and there, wanted to rip his throat out for daring to even look at her like that. But he couldn’t—not yet.

The plan.

He had to stick to the plan.

The sorcerer whispered a few more incantations under his breath before slowly rising to his feet. With a flick of his hand, Rosie’s body lifted from the bed as if weightless, floating eerily in the air. The dark mage turned and began to leave, Rosie drifting behind him, completely at the mercy of his magic.

Katsuki’s claws bit into his palms, drawing blood as he forced himself to follow. The sorcerer left the inn silently, Rosie hovering just behind him like a specter. Katsuki stayed hidden in the shadows, slipping through the streets after them. His heart pounded in his chest, every step feeling like a countdown to when he could finally release the storm of fury that was building inside him.

As they approached the stone bridge leading out of Malita and into the dark, ominous woods beyond, Katsuki’s rage had reached its boiling point. The sorcerer walked ahead, completely unaware that a hunter was tracking him through the night.

Just a little further, Katsuki thought, his hands already itching for the feel of fire and explosions. Just a little further, and I’ll burn you to the fucking ground.

But for now, all he could do was follow, his eyes never leaving Rosie’s floating form, his promise burning in his chest—he would save her. And he would make sure the sorcerer paid in blood for every filthy word, every touch, and every life he had taken.

Chapter Text

The cold bit into the air as Katsuki crept through the dark, dank cave. The sorcerer's lair smelled of death and old blood, the stench of his twisted rituals lingering like a thick fog. Katsuki's boots made no sound on the stone floor, his body tensed and ready as he moved silently toward the large opening up ahead.

When he reached the chamber, his eyes immediately went to the grotesque scene before him. At the center of the room stood a stone altar, stained with layers of dried blood, the remnants of countless sacrifices. A white circle was drawn around the altar, runes etched into the ground with precision. Candles flickered with unnatural light, their flames dancing in an eerie rhythm. Skulls, blood, and gems marked the outer edges of the circle, symbols of dark magic that pulsed with energy.

And there, lying lifeless on the stone table, was Rosie.

The sorcerer had placed her down with an almost gentle touch, his bony fingers brushing against her cheek as he whispered something Katsuki couldn’t hear. That single action ignited a fresh wave of fury in Katsuki’s chest. His hands clenched into fists, the heat of his dragon blood coursing through him like molten lava. The only thing keeping him from lunging was his need to find the right moment.

The sorcerer moved to a small table beside the altar, where an ancient black grimoire sat open, its pages filled with arcane symbols. Katsuki could feel the dark magic radiating from it, the oppressive weight of the sorcerer’s power thick in the air.

But Katsuki wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t here to feel fear. He was here to end this.

The sorcerer’s back was turned, giving Katsuki the opening he needed. His hands sparked to life, tiny crackles of fire and explosions flickering along his palms. His eyes were locked on Rosie’s unconscious form, her chest barely rising and falling as the sleeping curse kept her under. He had to be careful—not only did he have to kill the sorcerer, but he also had to make sure Rosie was safe.

Katsuki launched himself forward, his body a blur as he crossed the distance in an instant. His first move was aimed directly at the sorcerer’s back, a ball of explosive energy crackling in his hand.

But the moment his attack was about to land, the sorcerer turned with inhuman speed, a shield of dark energy snapping into place just before impact. Katsuki’s explosion hit the barrier, sending a shockwave through the chamber, but the sorcerer remained unscathed, his red eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

“You’re persistent,” the sorcerer sneered, his voice low and filled with dark promise. “But futile.”

Katsuki snarled, his body erupting in flames as he leapt back, creating distance between them. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled, his hands glowing brighter as he prepared another attack. “You’re dead, you sick bastard.”

The sorcerer only smiled, raising his hand as tendrils of shadowy magic shot out from the ground, snaking toward Katsuki with terrifying speed. Katsuki dodged the first wave, blasting the second with an explosion that sent shards of rock flying. But more kept coming, dark whips of magic lashing at him from every direction.

One of them grazed his shoulder, searing cold shooting through him where the magic touched. Katsuki grunted, gritting his teeth as he spun, unleashing a blast of fire in every direction to incinerate the shadows. The magic recoiled, hissing as it withdrew, but the sorcerer was already summoning more.

From his vantage point, Katsuki could see the sorcerer weaving his dark magic, eyes locked on him with a twisted grin. But as the fight continued, Katsuki noticed something—each time the sorcerer summoned his power, his attention wavered. Every flicker of dark magic was drawn from the runes around the altar.

The runes. The damn circle.

It was powering the bastard, feeding his strength.

“Think you’re clever, huh?” Katsuki muttered, his eyes flicking toward the circle. “Let’s see how clever you are when I blow that shit to hell.”

Without another word, Katsuki’s hands sparked with an even brighter flame, crackling with deadly intent. He turned his attention not to the sorcerer, but to the carefully drawn runes on the ground.

With a fierce cry, he unleashed a massive explosion aimed directly at the largest of the runes. The blast hit the mark, shattering the white lines into a cloud of dust and ash. The circle broke, and the power that had once pulsed through the chamber flickered, then died.

The sorcerer stumbled, his eyes wide with shock as he felt the power drain from him. “You—”

But Katsuki didn’t give him time to recover. He was already in the air, diving straight for the sorcerer with a roar of fury. His fist connected with the man’s face, and the resulting explosion rocked the entire chamber, sending chunks of stone crashing to the ground.

The sorcerer flew backward, slamming into the far wall with a sickening crack. He collapsed to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth as he struggled to rise.

“You’re done,” Katsuki growled, his eyes burning with rage. “You touch her again, and I’ll burn you so bad there won’t be a single piece of you left to bury.”

His dark magic shot out in tendrils, lashing toward Katsuki. Katsuki’s eyes flicked to her again, just in time to see one of the dark tendrils snaking toward her unconscious form.

“Shit!” Katsuki growled, sprinting toward the table. He threw himself in front of Rosie just as the tendril shot forward, raising a fiery shield to block the attack. The impact sent him skidding back, his boots digging into the stone floor, but he held his ground, protecting her.

The sorcerer laughed, the sound cold and twisted. “How noble of you, boy. But it won’t matter. You can’t stop the ritual. The elf’s blood will be spilled, and her power will be mine.”

But Katsuki was on him in seconds, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground.

The sorcerer wheezed, choking as he clawed at Katsuki’s hand, but it was no use. Katsuki’s grip tightened, and with a final surge of explosive energy, he slammed the sorcerer’s body into the ground, a fiery explosion consuming him in an instant.

When the flames died down, all that was left was ash.

Panting, Katsuki wiped the sweat from his brow and turned back to the altar. Rosie still lay there, untouched by the chaos. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, ripping his cloak off, he wrapped her in the black fabric, his hands gentle as he lifted her unconscious form into his arms.

The sleeping curse still held her under, but she was alive.

Safe.

“Damn it, Rosie,” he muttered under his breath, his heart finally starting to calm. “You’re gonna owe me big time for this.”

With one last look at the smoldering remains of the sorcerer’s lair, Katsuki carried her out of the cave, the cold air.

The sun had just risen, casting warm light across the horizon as Rosie stirred beneath the weight of something unfamiliar. Blinking her eyes open, she sat up, yawning. A heavy, warm fabric rested on her shoulders, the smell of smoke, wood, and brimstone unmistakable.

It was Katsuki’s cloak.

Her fingers brushed against the dark material, still warm from his body. She glanced around the room, frowning when she found it empty. Katsuki wasn’t there.

With a soft sigh, Rosie stood up, letting the cloak fall gently onto the bed. She stretched, feeling the stiffness in her limbs from the events of the previous night. As she changed into her normal attire, the weight of the folded cloak remained in her mind. There was something about Katsuki that made her curious—an enigma she couldn’t help but want to unravel.

Once dressed, she carefully folded his cloak, smoothing out the creases with her fingers. “He does smell nice,” she mumbled to herself, her cheeks warming at the thought.

She found Katsuki outside the inn, his back turned to her as he tended to their horses. His broad, muscular frame moved with purpose, but there was a certain tension in the way he carried himself. He hadn’t noticed her approach until she tapped his shoulder.

“Finally awake, huh?” he grunted, not turning to face her.

Rosie smiled brightly. “Yes. Thank you for watching over me.” She held out his neatly folded cloak. “I wanted to return this to you.”

Katsuki glanced at the fabric in her hands, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before he took it from her, careful not to brush against her fingers. Without a word, he swung the cloak over his shoulders, the dark material settling around him like a second skin.

“I already took the liberty of collecting the reward,” Katsuki said, his tone gruff as he reached into his pack. He tossed a small pouch toward her.

Rosie caught it easily, the weight of the coins inside making a soft clink. Without even looking, she slipped the pouch into her saddlebag. “Thank you,” she said with a nod, her attention already turning to their next task. “Another quest, perhaps?”

Katsuki frowned, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not going to count it?” There was a challenge in his voice, almost daring her to be suspicious.

Rosie tilted her head, confused. “Why would I do that?”

“I could’ve shortchanged you,” he said flatly, his expression hard.

She blinked, surprised, then smiled softly, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re too honorable.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened for a brief second, disbelief flickering across his face. It was such a simple statement, yet it threw him off balance. Honor? That wasn’t something he cared about—at least, he didn’t think so. But hearing it from Rosie, it hit differently.

Without waiting for his response, she mounted her horse, adjusting herself in the saddle with a graceful ease. “Let’s find our next mission, then!” she called over her shoulder, her voice light and cheerful.

Katsuki stared after her, his brow twitching in frustration. She always did this—just breezed past everything as if it were nothing. He scowled to himself, mounting his own horse and adjusting his hood to shield his face from the early morning light. The townspeople had begun to emerge from their homes, offering smiles and words of thanks as they passed by.

Katsuki’s scowl deepened. He didn’t like attention, especially not from these people.

Weaklings.

“They adore you!” Rosie’s voice rang out, full of amusement as she turned to glance back at him.

“Damn weaklings,” he muttered under his breath, burying his face into the folds of his cloak. But the scent of rainwater, roses, and something else—a fragrance that reminded him of warmth and life—lingered on the fabric. It stirred something deep in his chest, a warmth he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Rosie giggled at his grumbling and faced forward again, her horse prancing happily down the road. The townspeople waved to her, their faces filled with gratitude for the protection she and Katsuki had provided. It was as if Rosie belonged in their world, her kindness and warmth drawing them in, while Katsuki remained the outsider, watching from the shadows.

Yet, he found himself trailing behind her, drawn into her orbit despite himself.

As they left the town behind, the road ahead stretched into the distance, the forest growing thicker and the air cooler. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable; it was the kind of quiet Katsuki could live with. It wasn’t forced or awkward. Rosie’s humming filled the gaps, that incessant melody she always carried with her.

He glanced at her from time to time, his eyes tracing the way her hair moved in the breeze, how her pointed ears twitched every now and then when she caught a sound in the distance. She was an elf, sure, and that set her apart from him in so many ways. But there was something else, something deeper that he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

After a while, Rosie broke the silence, her voice soft as she spoke without turning around. “You don’t have to be so distant, you know. I won’t bite.”

Katsuki huffed, rolling his eyes. “Maybe I like being distant.”

Rosie chuckled softly. “You might, but I don’t think you dislike having company as much as you pretend to.”

His grip tightened on the reins, his jaw clenching as he tried to find the words to snap back, but none came. The truth of her statement hung in the air between them, unspoken but undeniable.

He didn’t hate being around her.

Hell, sometimes it was even… nice.

As they continued to ride, something shifted. Katsuki found himself riding closer to her, the gap between them narrowing ever so slightly. Maybe it was the aftermath of the fight with the sorcerer, or maybe it was something else entirely.

He wasn’t sure. But for the first time, it didn’t bother him.

Katsuki sat by the fire, its low flames casting a flickering light across the camp as Rosie slept peacefully on the other side. His sharp, crimson eyes lingered on her as she lay bundled up in her bedroll, her face serene and relaxed, the soft rise and fall of her chest barely visible under the heavy blanket.

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth as conflicting thoughts warred within him. Why the hell was he still here? He’d paid his debt. He saved her life, and that should’ve been the end of it. No more owing her anything. No more following her around like some idiot.

So why hadn’t he left?

The answer gnawed at him, frustratingly elusive yet undeniably there. He scowled, his fingers digging into the dirt by his side as he tried to shut down the thoughts swirling in his head. But they kept coming, unrelenting.

Her company was… nice.

There.

He’d admitted it, at least to himself. He didn’t like it, but there was no denying the truth. He didn’t hate being around her. In fact, it was kind of… warm, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. She was different. She was the first person in centuries—two hundred years, to be exact—who didn’t make him feel like he was surrounded by mindless fools. She wasn’t weak, nor was she irritating, though she had her moments.

His mind drifted back to their time together—how she smiled and laughed, always optimistic no matter how dire things became. She wasn’t like the others. There was something about her that stirred something deep in his chest.

For two hundred years, Katsuki had roamed these lands alone. The weight of his dragon blood kept him apart from most people, and he’d grown used to it.

He didn’t need companionship.

Hell, he didn’t even want it.

He thrived on the isolation, the freedom to move from place to place without any ties holding him down. He liked being able to disappear into the shadows whenever he wanted, to live his life on his own terms.

And yet…

Rosie made him pause.

She was the first person who didn’t seem to care about his gruff demeanor, who didn’t shy away from his explosive temper. Instead, she faced him head-on, her gentle humor and easygoing nature disarming him in ways he didn’t expect. He hated it, hated that she made him feel anything at all.

But damn it, she was interesting. And that was enough to keep him from walking away.

He exhaled through his nose, watching as the firelight danced across her sleeping form. She deserved to know the truth—that he’d already fulfilled his life debt by saving her from the sorcerer. He didn’t owe her anything anymore. He could leave right now, slip away in the night, and she wouldn’t be able to say a damn thing about it.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

It wasn’t just the debt anymore. It was something more. Something he couldn’t put into words, but he felt it in the pit of his stomach. Leaving her now… it didn’t feel right. The thought of going back to the empty, solitary life he’d grown accustomed to wasn’t as appealing as it used to be.

Not with her around.

She was the first person in centuries who didn’t bore him, the first person who made him feel… connected to something other than his own damn anger and pride.

Katsuki let out a low growl, frustrated with himself. How had he let things get this far? He didn’t want to think about how attached he’d become to her.

The thought of being attached to such a stupid elf is completely preposterous. He refused to have such attachments.

He could leave her.

He should leave her.

But he wouldn’t.

The decision settled in his chest, as solid as stone. He wouldn’t tell her the truth. She didn’t need to know that his debt was paid, that he had no obligation to stick around anymore. She didn’t need to know that he was staying for reasons that had nothing to do with honor or repayment. He’d keep that to himself.

For now, he’d stay by her side. He’d keep protecting her, traveling with her, and fighting alongside her. Maybe it wasn’t because of some life debt, but that didn’t matter. He had his reasons—reasons he wasn’t ready to face, let alone share with her.

Rosie shifted in her sleep, her body curling slightly as she murmured something under her breath. Katsuki’s gaze softened, just for a moment, before he tore his eyes away and focused on the fire once again. His jaw tightened, the familiar stubbornness rising within him.

He wouldn’t leave her.

Not yet.

Not until he figured out why the hell she would leave her realm.

Yeah, that was it.

That is why he wanted to stick around. Was because he wanted to know what a High Elf would leave her realm and become an adventurer.

With a quiet grunt, Katsuki settled in for the rest of his watch, his mind made up. He’d stay with Rosie, at least for now. And he wouldn’t tell her a damn thing about why.

Chapter Text

“DAMN YOU, BASTARD!” Katsuki roared, his voice echoing through the cavern as his hands exploded with fiery magic. The blast sent flames in all directions, engulfing the lizard-like creatures that had swarmed the abandoned town. The smell of burning scales filled the air, thick and acrid.

One of the taller Lizardians—a spindly, green-scaled creature with beady yellow eyes—was sent flying, caught in the inferno. Its screech of pain was quickly silenced as it collided with a stone wall, its charred body crumpling into a heap.

Rosie, quick on her feet, dodged to the side as the flaming creature flew past her, landing in a pile of smoldering debris. Her sharp eyes scanned the area, taking note of the remaining enemies. Despite the chaos, she moved with the grace of a seasoned fighter, her elven reflexes keeping her out of harm’s way. Her bow was already drawn, the string taut as she let loose an arrow that struck one of the Lizardians in the throat, felling it instantly.

"Katsuki, watch out!" she shouted, spotting a group of the creatures rushing from a nearby alley, their scaly bodies low to the ground as they moved with startling speed. They hissed, their long tongues flicking in the air as they charged toward him.

Katsuki snarled, his eyes blazing with fury as he noticed them. "I see 'em," he growled.

With a swift motion, he slammed his hands together, summoning a torrent of fire that erupted from the ground, creating a wall of flames that separated the Lizardians from him and Rosie. The creatures recoiled, hissing and screeching as the heat forced them back.

Rosie took advantage of the moment, moving swiftly through the chaos. She reached for her quiver, nocking another arrow before firing it with deadly precision. Her arrows pierced through the air, striking the remaining Lizardians in rapid succession. Each shot was true, finding their marks in the creatures' throats and chests, bringing them down one by one.

The town had once been peaceful, nestled in the southwest of Astela, but the Lizardians had taken it over, forcing the inhabitants to flee. The once-bustling streets were now desolate, with broken carts and scattered belongings left behind in the panicked evacuation. The few remaining buildings stood eerily quiet, their windows shattered, and smoke still drifted from fires set by the invading creatures.

Rosie and Katsuki had accepted the request to rid the area of the Lizardians, who had made it their nest. It was supposed to be a straightforward job, but the sheer number of the creatures had turned it into a far more brutal battle than they had anticipated.

“Damn lizards don’t know when to quit!” Katsuki snarled, his hands still crackling with residual energy from his explosions. His chest heaved with exertion, but he barely showed any signs of slowing down. He thrived in battle—his blood was boiling, his instincts sharp.

Rosie wiped a streak of dirt from her cheek as she surveyed the battlefield, her eyes scanning for any remaining threats. "I think that's the last of them," she said, her voice calm despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Katsuki let out a huff, clearly still irritated. "Took longer than I wanted," he muttered, though there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he surveyed the smoldering remains of the Lizardian nest. His flames had reduced most of the creatures to ash, their burnt carcasses littering the ground.

Rosie smiled softly, walking over to him. "You did most of the heavy lifting," she teased lightly, glancing at the destruction around them. "Though I think you might've overdone it with the fire. The town’s going to need some serious rebuilding after this."

Katsuki shot her a glare, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if he might almost smile. Almost. "Tch. They should’ve just hired me from the start if they wanted it done right."

Rosie laughed softly, slinging her bow over her shoulder. "Well, they hired us now, didn’t they? Job well done, partner."

Katsuki grunted, folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get our damn payment and get out of here."

Rosie nodded, her smile widening as she turned toward the town’s center where the remaining survivors were waiting. She could see the grateful faces of the townspeople peeking out from behind the few intact buildings, slowly making their way toward her and Katsuki. They had been hiding, waiting for the battle to end, and now, they were coming to thank the two warriors who had saved their home.

As they approached, Rosie felt a strange sense of pride. It wasn’t just about the money for her; it was about helping people, protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. She glanced at Katsuki, who still wore his perpetual scowl, though she could tell from the way his shoulders relaxed that he, too, felt some satisfaction in completing the job.

"Let’s hope the next job is a little quieter," Rosie said as they approached the town’s mayor, who was holding a pouch of coins.

Katsuki snorted. "Yeah, right. Knowing our luck, it’ll be worse."

Rosie laughed, shaking her head as she reached out to take the pouch from the mayor’s trembling hands. "Let’s just enjoy the quiet while it lasts, Katsuki."

He shot her a sideways glance, his expression softening ever so slightly as they collected their reward. Maybe the lizard-hunting job hadn’t been as bad as it seemed, especially with Rosie at his side.

As they turned to leave the town, Rosie caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Katsuki just grunted and started walking ahead. "Nothing. Let’s go."

Rosie shook her head with a smile, knowing that for Katsuki, that was as close to a compliment as she was going to get.

The tavern was lively that night, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking mugs, and the strum of a bard’s lute. The air was warm, thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced ale, and Rosie sat across from Katsuki, her cheeks flushed from both the heat of the fire and the alcohol. She held a mug of ale in her hands, her fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly as she watched him.

It had been a week since their first mission together—the sorcerer who stole young virgins in the night and sacrificed them—but despite their rough start, they had settled into a surprising rhythm. Katsuki, despite his gruff demeanor, had proven to be a reliable companion. Their dynamic had shifted, easing from mere acquaintances to something that felt more familiar, like partners.

Rosie giggled softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she leaned back in her chair. “You know, you’re not as scary as you think you are,” she teased, her voice light and teasing, emboldened by the ale.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his red eyes narrowing at her over the rim of his mug. “Tch. You drunk already, elf? I’ve barely had two drinks, and you’re talking nonsense.”

She snorted, nearly spilling her drink as she laughed. “I’m not drunk,” she protested, though the slight slur in her words suggested otherwise. “I’m just saying, you’ve got a heart somewhere in there. You just hide it under all those angry explosions.”

Katsuki growled, but there was no real heat in it. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll show you angry explosions,” he muttered, though his lips quirked upward slightly, betraying a hint of amusement.

Rosie leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she grinned at him. “Come on, admit it. You like having me around.”

“I like having you around to take the annoying jobs, so I don’t have to,” he retorted, but his eyes softened as he glanced at her. They had been through a lot in just a week, and he couldn’t deny that Rosie’s presence had grown on him, whether he liked it or not.

Rosie shook her head, laughing again. “Liar.”

She took a big gulp of her ale, finishing it off before slamming the mug down on the table with a triumphant grin. “I bet I could drink you under the table,” she said suddenly, her blue eyes sparkling with challenge.

Katsuki snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You? Drink me under the table? You can barely handle two mugs of ale, lightweight.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” Rosie asked, her grin widening. “Because I accept.”

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Fine. But don’t cry when you lose.”

The two of them quickly fell into a competitive drinking contest, ordering round after round of ale as they sat in their cozy corner of the tavern. Rosie’s giggles became more frequent, her cheeks pink with warmth and intoxication as the night wore on. Katsuki, despite his tougher constitution, started to feel the effects of the alcohol, but he refused to show any sign of weakness.

“Okay, okay,” Rosie said, her words slurring as she held up a hand to stop the next round. She hiccupped, trying to stifle her laughter as she pointed a finger at him. “You… you have to admit… I’m holding my own here.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, though he was grinning now, his earlier grumpiness washed away by the ale. “You’re holding your own because you’re too stubborn to quit.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, which only made him chuckle. “And you’re too proud to admit I’m doing better than you expected,” she shot back.

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” Rosie replied with a mock-serious nod before bursting into laughter again.

The tavern around them buzzed with activity, but in their little corner, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away. Rosie leaned on the table, resting her chin in her hand as she gazed at Katsuki. “I’m glad we teamed up, you know?” she said softly, her tone suddenly more sincere. “It’s nice… having someone to share this journey with.”

Katsuki shifted uncomfortably, not used to sentimental talk, especially not when he was buzzed. “Yeah, well… you’re not so bad either,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze as he scratched the back of his neck.

Rosie smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made something in Katsuki’s chest tighten. “I was really nervous, you know,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “When I left home, I didn’t think I’d find anyone I could trust. But… I trust you.”

Katsuki stared at her for a moment, her words sinking in. He wasn’t used to this kind of openness, and it threw him off balance. But there was something about the way she looked at him—like she saw through all his walls, all his anger and rough edges—that made him feel… something. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was there, stirring beneath the surface.

“Yeah, well… don’t go getting all soft on me,” he muttered, taking another swig of his ale to hide his discomfort. “We’ve got more jobs ahead, and I don’t need you getting distracted.”

Rosie laughed again, the sound bright and carefree. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m always focused… mostly.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Mostly.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the warmth of the fire and the buzz of the alcohol creating a pleasant haze around them. Katsuki found himself glancing at Rosie more often than usual, watching her laugh, her eyes bright with life. She was… different. Unlike anyone he had come across in two hundred years. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t left yet.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this strange, stubborn elf.

Not yet.

Not when he was starting to like her company.

“Alright,” Rosie said, breaking the silence as she stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight. Let’s call it a night before we both end up sleeping under the table.”

Katsuki smirked, shaking his head as he stood. “Lightweight.”

She stuck her tongue out at him again, but her smile was soft as they left the tavern together, the night air cool against their flushed skin. For the first time in a long while, Katsuki didn’t feel like he was traveling alone.

Rosie stumbled down the cobblestone street, her legs wobbly and her heeled boots catching awkwardly with each step. She waved a hand in the air as if brushing off Katsuki’s warning.

“You’re going to fall on your ass,” Katsuki snapped, his tone sharp but laced with an underlying hint of concern.

Rosie turned and gave him a sloppy, lopsided smile, trying to play off her unsteadiness. “I’m fine, I’m fine—”

But before she could finish, she stumbled again, veering sharply toward an alleyway. Her steps faltered, and then she fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. Her face paled, and without another word, she began retching violently onto the cobblestone ground.

Katsuki stood there for a moment, his nose wrinkling at the pungent smell of bile, ale, and the sickly sweetness of too much drink. He cursed under his breath but quickly followed after her. Despite all his gruffness, there was no way he was leaving her like this.

“Damn it, elf,” he muttered, kneeling beside her. He scoffed but reached forward, gathering her long hair and pulling it back to keep it out of her face. His hands were rough but surprisingly gentle as he held her hair in one hand, his other resting on her shoulder as she heaved.

Rosie’s body trembled, her shoulders shaking as she continued to wretch, her face flushed with embarrassment and nausea. Tears welled up in her eyes, not just from the pain of throwing up, but from the overwhelming mix of emotions that had been building inside her. Her breath hitched as the tears started to spill, and she let out a choked sob.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled between gasps, her voice small and broken. “I’m s-sorry…”

Katsuki’s eyes softened as he looked at her. He hated seeing anyone like this, but for some reason, seeing Rosie cry—seeing her in this vulnerable, broken state—stirred something inside him.

Something protective.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice gruff but lacking its usual bite. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You just drank too much. Happens.”

Rosie wiped at her face with the back of her hand, her tears mixing with the grime of the street. “I… I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to have fun for once. To feel like… like I’m not alone anymore.”

She hiccuped, her sobs growing quieter but still wracking her small frame. “I hate this. I hate feeling so… so useless. I hate being alone.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw. He wasn’t great with emotions, especially not ones like this, but hearing Rosie break down like that tugged at something in his chest. He stayed silent for a moment, watching her struggle to compose herself.

“You’re not useless,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. “And you’re not alone.”

Rosie sniffled, lifting her tear-streaked face to look at him. “You mean that?”

“Tch.” Katsuki looked away, his grip tightening slightly on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t be sticking around if you were.”

Rosie blinked, her tears slowing as she stared at him, trying to process his words through the haze of alcohol and emotions. A weak smile tugged at her lips, though her eyes were still glassy. “Thanks, Katsuki…”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Now come on, you’re done puking. Let’s get you out of this damn alley.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he slid an arm around her waist and effortlessly lifted her to her feet. She swayed against him, her legs still weak and unsteady, but Katsuki held her firm, making sure she didn’t fall.

“You’re… you’re strong,” Rosie mumbled, her head lolling slightly as she leaned against him.

“Damn right I am,” Katsuki muttered, though his tone was softer than usual. He shifted her weight, making sure she was secure in his arms before lifting her completely off the ground.

“Hey—what are you—” Rosie started, but her protest was cut off as she was scooped up into Katsuki’s arms, her head resting against his chest. She blinked, surprised but too tired to fight it. Instead, she let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing against him as exhaustion and the effects of the alcohol began to take over.

“Just shut up and let me carry you,” Katsuki grumbled, his arms holding her with surprising gentleness. “You can barely walk.”

Rosie didn’t argue. Instead, she closed her eyes, the warmth of his body comforting against the cool night air. “You’re… nicer than you let on,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she started to drift off.

“Don’t push it,” Katsuki growled, though there was no real bite to his words.

He carried her back to the inn, the weight of her body in his arms barely registering. As he walked through the empty streets, his mind wandered, replaying her words from earlier.

I hate being alone.

He knew that feeling all too well.

By the time they reached the inn, Rosie was nearly asleep, her breathing soft and even against his chest. Katsuki carefully nudged the door open with his foot, making his way to her room. Once inside, he laid her down on the bed, pulling the blankets over her. She mumbled something incoherent, her hand weakly grasping at the fabric of his cloak.

Katsuki stood over her for a moment, watching as she settled into sleep. Her face was peaceful now, her earlier tears dried. He let out a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand through his spiky hair.

“Damn elf,” he muttered under his breath, though the words lacked their usual venom. He turned, his gaze lingering on her for just a moment longer before quietly slipping out of the room.

As he closed the door behind him, he leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling with a scowl. His mind raced with thoughts he didn’t want to confront, emotions he didn’t want to feel.

But despite himself, he knew one thing for sure.

He wasn’t leaving her. Not yet.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to.

Chapter Text

“We’re tracking down an escaped convict? ” Katsuki asked, raising an unimpressed brow as he nursed his ale. His voice was laced with skepticism, the low rumble of a man who had seen one too many "easy" jobs turn into bloodbaths.

Rosie sat across from him, bright-eyed and cheerful, poking at her plate of sliced fruit with a fork like she didn’t have a care in the world. “It’ll be easy, ” she said with a confident smile, plucking a slice of orange and popping it into her mouth. “Simple track-and-capture. In and out.”

Katsuki stared at her over the rim of his pint, slowly tipping it back for another long drink. He lowered the glass with a grunt. “Sounds stupid as hell.”

She shrugged, entirely unaffected by his tone. “Too late,” she said breezily. “I already accepted the contract.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

Rosie continued casually, “Also bought the provisions this morning. Met with the client while you were still snoring into your pillow. Real talkative guy—gave me the whole backstory. We leave after you finish your drink.”

Katsuki scowled. “ Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

She smiled sweetly, twirling a grape between her fingers. “You keep sleeping in and someone’s gotta take the lead.”

He huffed and leaned back in his chair, folding one arm across his chest. “You know, one of these days you’re gonna get us into something nasty by jumping into things quickly.”

“Then you’ll have to save us with your endless charm and biting wit,” she said dryly, taking a sip of her own ale and giving him a pointed look.

Katsuki stared at her for a beat before snorting into his ale. “You’re lucky I didn’t wake up in a worse mood.”

“You’re always in a bad mood.”

“I’m not the one who volunteers for convict retrieval missions before breakfast.”

“And yet, you’re still coming with me,” she sing-songed.

“Tch,” he grumbled, draining the rest of his ale and setting the tankard down with a dull thud. “Because if I don’t, you’ll end up dead or married to the bastard.”

Rosie laughed. “I’m not that reckless.”

He raised a brow. “You used yourself as bait last month for a sorcerer.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Still smiling, she stood and dusted her hands off, tossing a coin on the table to cover her half of the bill. “Finish up, grumpy. We’ve got a convict to catch.”

He shook his head and watched her turn toward the door, that damn braid of hers swaying with every step. As she reached the exit, he downed the last drops of ale and muttered under his breath, “Bossy and insufferable.”

But he was already standing, grabbing his gear and following her out. Because of course he was.

Perched comfortably on her horse, Divine, Rosie hummed a cheerful little tune as she unrolled the worn parchment map the client had given her. The parchment was faded and creased, but the ink was fresh—clear markers and notations indicating the most recent sightings of the escaped convict dotted along the valley and nearby forest paths. From what she could tell, he hadn’t fled the region yet. Either he was cocky… or desperate.

“Still in the area,” she murmured thoughtfully, eyes scanning the map again. “He’s circling the same hills.”

She reached into the side pouch of her saddle and pulled out a folded sketch—a rough but recognizable charcoal drawing of a young man with sharp features, shaggy hair, and eyes like he knew how to lie without blinking. She studied it for a beat before Katsuki’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Lemme see,” he grunted from beside her, adjusting the saddle on Dynamight with one gloved hand.

Without hesitation, Rosie passed him the sketch and rolled up the map. As he took it, she dug through her bag and pulled out a thick slice of bread, still slightly warm, and a little wrapped bundle of butter she’d nicked from the inn that morning.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow when he glanced over and saw her calmly buttering it like they weren’t on a bounty mission. “Seriously?” he muttered.

She didn’t answer. Just kept humming, focused entirely on spreading the butter to the edges of the crust like it was the most important task in the world.

He gave a slow shake of his head and looked down at the sketch again. His brows knit together. “He looks too young to be dangerous.”

Rosie took a giant bite of her bread and said something through a mouthful.

“What?” Katsuki scowled, snapping his head toward her. “Don’t talk with your damn mouth full. That’s disgusting.”

She rolled her eyes, still chewing. “It’s good bread,” she said once she swallowed, and took another big bite just to spite him.

“You’re gonna choke stuffing your face like that.”

“I chew, ” she replied primly, licking some butter off her thumb.

Katsuki grunted in annoyance and went back to the drawing. “What’d he do, anyway? Steal something? Get drunk and punch a noble?”

Rosie swallowed, brushed some crumbs off her lap, and said in the most casual tone possible, “Four counts of arson, two counts of aggravated assault, one kidnapping, and six confirmed murders.”

Katsuki blinked. “…You say that like you’re reciting ingredients for soup.”

She shrugged. “You asked.”

He narrowed his eyes at the drawing again. “Is he human?”

“Yep,” she said easily. “Born and raised in one of the inner cities, apparently. Only twenty-five.”

Katsuki scoffed, folding the sketch back up. “Tch. Looks like a spoiled little shit with a knife.”

“Well, now he’s a spoiled little shit with a bounty on his head, ” she chirped, finally finishing her bread and brushing her fingers together as she looked back at the trail ahead. “Which makes him our next paycheck.”

Katsuki shook his head again. “You get too excited about this stuff.”

“And you’re not excited enough. ”

“Because unlike you, I like jobs where I don’t have to deal with twitchy murderers.”

She gave him a smirk. “You’re just mad I brought a snack.”

He stared at her flatly. “If you start singing again, I’m turning back.”

“I make no promises,” she beamed, and with a soft nudge, Divine trotted forward, leading them toward the ridge where the last sighting had been reported.

Katsuki sighed, muttered something under his breath, and followed.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet. Rosie leaned forward in her saddle, eyes scanning the thick underbrush while Divine’s hooves picked carefully through the uneven ground. A few birds chirped overhead, and a squirrel darted across their path, but other than that—silence.

Katsuki rode beside her, brow furrowed in concentration. He dismounted without a word, crouching near a broken branch dangling at an odd angle. “Trail’s fresh,” he muttered, dragging two fingers along a faint set of prints. “Light footfall. He’s not heavy.”

Rosie slid off her horse and joined him, crouching at his side. “And in a hurry. Look—he stumbled here.”

They followed the broken trail deeper into the woods, veering off the beaten path. The scent of damp earth and pine clung to everything. Rosie's ears twitched as she listened, not just for movement—but for the unnatural silence that often followed men who’d done terrible things.

She tapped Katsuki’s shoulder and pointed. A patch of red cloth snagged on a thorn bush. “His,” she whispered.

Katsuki nodded, gaze already scanning the treeline ahead. “He’s heading northwest. Toward the ravine.”

Rosie’s expression darkened. “Smart. It’s rough terrain. Hard to track.”

He stood, brushing off his gloves. “Then we get ahead of him. Box him in.”

Rosie smirked. “Look at you, finally getting into the spirit.”

“Shut up and move,” he grumbled, but she caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Hours of traveling, dusk had settled like ash across the woods. The trail had gone colder the deeper they moved into the thicket—but it was Rosie who found it with her tracking skills. “Over here,” she called softly.

Katsuki followed, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch. She was kneeling near a cluster of rocks by a shallow stream. A torn scrap of parchment was wedged between two stones, half-soaked by water. He took it from her carefully, squinting at the smeared ink, it was a ledger of names and dates. Some with large red Xs marked over them.

“…This isn’t just some petty convict,” Katsuki muttered, eyes narrowing. “This is a contract list.”

Rosie swallowed. “Assassinations?”

“Looks like it.” He flipped the page over. More names. Some had locations scrawled beside them, cities, villages and of noble families.

She paled. “He’s not hiding.”

“He’s working, ” Katsuki growled, crumpling the parchment slightly in his gloved hand as his jaw tensed. “Someone hired him. And this mission just got a whole lot more complicated.”

The weight of his words hung in the air like a storm cloud. They weren’t hunting a runaway, they were chasing a professional killer and he was nowhere near done yet. That excited her as rarely she was able to come across another professional. Not that she would call herself as such but she was good at hunting, tracking, and killing. In her previous two years of adventuring, she had yet to come across a professional and she was excited to finally get the chance to meet one. Or rather hunt one.

Rosie stared down at the now-wrinkled paper, her expression shifting—not to fear or concern like he expected—but to something far more unusual. Excitement.

The corners of her lips slowly curved upward, her posture straightened, and a strange, eager gleam began to light up her eyes.

It wasn’t reckless. It wasn’t bloodthirsty. It was thrill.

Katsuki watched her warily, eyes narrowing. “Why the hell are you smiling?”

Rosie blinked, as if just now remembering he was there. “Oh,” she said with a breathless laugh. “I’m just… surprised. No, delighted , really.”

His brow twitched. “Delighted? We’re chasing a contract killer, Rosie. A professional. This isn’t some petty thief sneaking bread or bandits ambushing wagons.”

“I know ,” she said brightly, eyes practically sparkling now as she stood up fully and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her pointed ear. “That’s what makes it so exciting.”

He stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

Rosie started pacing slowly, her hands gesturing with barely-contained energy. “I’ve gone two years taking on missions—smugglers, monsters, rogue mages, cursed relics, a few nasty nobles—and none of them ever truly challenged me. Not really. But this…” she tapped her finger against the paper in his hand. “This is different. He’s good. Clever. Careful. He’s trained. You saw the trail—clean, efficient, and still just sloppy enough to bait someone less experienced.” She turned back to Katsuki, her breath quick, her cheeks flushed with heat and enthusiasm. “He thinks he’s untouchable. That he’s the only predator in these woods.”

Katsuki blinked slowly, finally realizing how pink her cheeks had become—how half-lidded her gaze looked, her pupils dilated with something far too close to lust for comfort. Her lips were parted. She was panting, just a little.

“…Are you seriously getting worked up over this?” he asked incredulously, his voice low, rough. “ Tracking a killer? ”

Rosie froze, then blinked, and immediately turned a shade of red that nearly matched the bloodstains on her gloves. Her ears twitched violently, tips twitching in sharp jerks. “I—I wouldn’t call it that, ” she stammered, trying to wave it off, though her voice cracked slightly. “I just—well—it’s not that, it’s—it’s the challenge, and—”

Katsuki crossed his arms, one brow raised smugly. “Sure it is.”

Rosie shot him a glare, flustered and embarrassed, her face still burning. “I’m serious!” she snapped, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Murder— real murder, the kind with motive, precision, and mastery—it’s an art. And not everyone can appreciate it.”

Katsuki stared at her. Then huffed a short laugh. “You’re twisted.”

She grinned shamelessly, her confidence returning now that the worst of the fluster had passed. “Says the man who killed a man by stabbing him through the neck with his prized dagger.”

He smirked despite himself. “That was resourceful.”

“That was beautiful,” she corrected, stepping closer. “You’re just as bad as me.”

He gave her a long, unreadable look. “Yeah… I know.”

Their eyes locked—sharp, electric—and for a breathless moment, the chase ahead was forgotten. Then Katsuki broke it with a grunt, turning back toward the path. “Come on, art freak. Let’s hunt your masterpiece .”

Rosie mounted Divine again, eyes still glowing with mischief and anticipation. And as they disappeared into the woods, she whispered under her breath, “Let’s see if this professional really knows how to paint.”

By the time nightfall cloaked the landscape, they arrived at a small, sleepy town nestled in the crook of the surrounding hills. A crooked wooden sign swayed in the wind above the town’s only well-paved street, its name faded and chipped with age. Faint oil lanterns flickered along the worn cobblestones, casting soft orange glows that danced over sagging rooftops and shuttered windows. Smoke curled lazily from a few chimneys, and the scent of wet hay, distant firewood, and roasted root vegetables lingered in the air.

It looked like the kind of place untouched by violence.

Which only made the silence more unsettling.

Rosie and Katsuki rode in quietly, their boots hitting the earth as they dismounted near the town center. Few people were about at this hour—only a handful of old farmers smoking outside the tavern and a couple heading home from the small chapel on the hill. But neither of them spoke as they moved through the narrow, darkened streets with purpose.

They followed the address given on the list, the client's handwriting sharp and precise. The victim’s home was easy enough to spot: a small two-story cottage with faded blue shutters and a crooked iron fence, one that now stood slightly ajar.

The scent hit them first.

Blood.

Fresh and heavy.

Katsuki’s hand slid to one of his blades. Rosie said nothing, her footsteps silent as she approached the door. It was already open, just slightly—enough for a flicker of lantern light to escape from inside.

They stepped into the house together.

The interior was modest, warm once—herbs hung from ceiling beams, and children’s drawings were still pinned to the wall—but the warmth had died with its inhabitants. In the center of the parlor lay a man and woman, throats slit cleanly, their eyes still open in frozen shock.

No signs of a struggle. No noise. Just precise, clinical death.

Rosie’s brows furrowed as she stepped back outside. A woman was passing by, carrying a bundle of cloth and looking warily at the open door.

“Excuse me,” Rosie called gently. “Do you know when they were found?”

The woman slowed, clutching the cloth tighter. “Only a few hours ago,” she said, voice hushed. “But… it happened this morning. The neighbor came ‘round when they didn’t show for supper.”

Rosie nodded once. “Thank you.”

The woman crossed herself and hurried on.

She turned back to Katsuki, her voice low. “It happened hours ago. He’s already gone.”

He looked down at the corpses, then out toward the fields beyond town. “We move to the next target.”

Rosie didn’t argue. “It’s a half-day’s ride from here. If he’s fast, he’s probably already made it there.”

Katsuki shook his head. “No horses were bought or stolen today. I checked when we rode in—stables are locked up, and the merchant hasn’t had a sale. He’s still on foot.”

Her eyes widened slightly at that. “Then we can catch him.”

“As long as we don’t stop.”

Rosie’s lips parted into a sudden grin, her eyes alight with energy. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Katsuki’s hand, tugging him toward the stables. “ Let’s go then! ”

He grunted, half-stumbling after her, but didn’t pull away.

Their boots pounded across the cobblestone as they ran, the urgency of the chase reigniting between them. Behind them, the sleepy little town sank back into darkness. But ahead? Ahead lay the next kill and maybe, just maybe—their chance to stop it.

The sun sat proudly at its highest point in the sky, casting sharp golden light over the cobbled streets and terracotta roofs of the bustling city. Rosie and Katsuki arrived just as the morning market was thinning out, the smell of fresh bread and citrus mixing with the warm, dusty scent of stone that baked beneath the sun. The city, surrounded by old stone walls and guarded watchtowers, was far livelier than the sleepy village they’d left behind, and far less trusting of strangers.

After passing through the main gate, they'd split—Katsuki dismounted without a word, reins in hand, already heading toward the stables to settle their horses and secure lodging for the night.

Rosie, however, had a different goal.

The next target on the assassin’s list was a nobleman—Maeben Illoran, a modest-ranking lord known more for his quiet philanthropy than any political ambition. A widower and father to twin boys who had been sent to the capital for apprenticeship, Maeben lived in a finely kept home on the eastern edge of the city, near the river that split the merchant quarter from the noble district.

With her hood pulled low over her face and her cloak pinned tight, Rosie slipped into the rhythm of the city like a shadow stretching along the wall. She spent the next several hours weaving in and out of alleys, watching from shaded alcoves, and keeping herself on the move. She tailed Maeben discreetly as he moved through his day—first visiting the orphanage he sponsored near the chapel, then speaking with a tradesman in the marbleworks, and finally stopping at a small street café for tea and a chat with a city guard captain.

There were no guards around his estate, no overt signs of fear or paranoia. He didn’t carry a weapon. He didn’t look over his shoulder. 

To Rosie, it was like watching a lamb graze with wolves in the woods. She stood perched on the second-floor balcony of an abandoned building across from the café, barely visible through a sliver in the cracked wooden shutters, when something prickled in her chest— intuition .

Her gaze swept the crowded street below—and stopped. Across the way, leaning casually against a stone column just outside the tailor’s shop, stood a man.

He was dressed as a civilian: a simple dark tunic, well-fitted breeches, worn leather boots. There was nothing suspicious in his manner—no shifting glances, no concealed weapons, no glint of armor beneath the cloth.

But Rosie’s trained eye caught the stillness . That unnatural calm. The way he wasn’t watching the café like the other onlookers. He was watching Maeben.

Her breath hitched.

He was handsome —undeniably so— with sharp, symmetrical features and well-combed dark hair that fell just to his jawline. His build was athletic but not bulky, his demeanor polished. There was an elegance to the way he leaned into the shadows, like a man used to moving undetected. But his eyes —those cold, calculating eyes— tracked Maeben’s every movement with disturbing precision.

Rosie narrowed her gaze.

Too clean. Too deliberate.

He shared features with the sketch of the convict. Not an exact match—but close. The same bone structure. The same slightly crooked left brow. The same calm eyes that seemed to look through people instead of at them.

But this man? This one was polished. Refined. A hunter in sheep’s clothing.

Her heartbeat quickened as she slipped back from the window, pressed herself to the wall, and exhaled slowly. “I found you,” she whispered under her breath.

And he had no idea she was watching him.

Rosie stayed in the shadows, carefully descending from the second-story balcony and melting into the crowded street below. Her eyes never left the man near the tailor’s shop. She weaved between townsfolk, merchants, and delivery carts, moving closer without drawing attention. Her hand rested casually on her belt, fingers brushing the edge of a throwing knife.

Then she saw it— a flicker of movement in the man’s eyes. He wasn’t watching Maeben anymore. He saw something —or someone— just beyond the crowd. His posture shifted subtly, like a predator sensing danger. Then, without hesitation, he ducked into the alley between the cobbler’s and apothecary, disappearing into shadow.

“Shit,” Rosie breathed and took off at a light jog, sticking to the outer edge of the street.

But before she could reach the alley— Katsuki dropped into view. Like a ghost of war, he landed with a hard thud on the rooftop above, cloak snapping behind him. His red eyes locked on the fleeing man below.

“Target’s on the move!” he barked.

Rosie barely registered the words before he was leaping again, giving chase across the rooftops, fast and relentless. But as Rosie darted into the mouth of the alley, a flicker of motion to her left caught her eye.

Maeben, the nobleman was running, full sprint and in the opposite direction of the assassin.

“What—?” she muttered, confusion slicing through her.

Without another thought, she pivoted on her heel and bolted after Maeben. He ran like a man possessed, cloak flying behind him, fear written in every line of his body. Rosie was faster, her elven agility slicing through the crowded alleyways like a knife through silk. She leapt over crates, ducked under hanging laundry, and finally caught him as he turned sharply into a narrow passage and stumbled.

She tackled him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs, but not enough to injure. He thrashed beneath her briefly until she pinned him with one hand and braced the other against the wall beside his head.

“Stop running!” she hissed. “Why are you running?”

He gasped, wide-eyed and pale, as if she were a ghost herself. “I—I saw him! I saw—”

“Saw who?” she demanded, brows furrowed.

He swallowed hard, sweat pouring down his face. “A ghost.”

Rosie blinked. “What?”

“I saw him,” Maeben whispered, eyes darting to the end of the alley like he expected death itself to round the corner. “He’s supposed to be dead. I saw him fall—years ago—I saw them bury him. But it was him. Same face. Same eyes. ”

Rosie's grip tightened. “What are you talking about?”

“You need to let me go,” the man stammered again, his voice barely more than a rasp, trembling like dry leaves in the wind. “Please. If he saw me—if he knows I’m still alive—he’ll finish the job. I was supposed to die back then. I shouldn’t be here.”

Rosie didn’t move. She remained crouched, one knee pressing into the cobblestone, her hand braced beside the nobleman’s head to pin him in place. Her eyes studied him—really studied him—for the first time not as a mark or victim, but as a man unraveling at the seams.

“The assassin,” she said slowly, voice steady despite the crackling tension in the alley.

The nobleman nodded furiously. “Yes. It was him. I swear it. I saw him fall into the ravine. I saw his body. They burned it—gods, I watched the fire myself! But it was him. He’s alive, and he’s coming back for the rest of us.”

Rosie felt her breath catch in her throat. The list. The names. It wasn’t a new hitlist—it was an old one, unfinished.

The nobleman clutched at her arm now, desperate. “You don’t understand. He was trained to kill people like me. Traitors. Whistleblowers. Those who knew too much. My sons—my sons don’t even know who I was before I sent them away. I had to vanish. Disappear. And now—he’s back.”

Rosie hesitated, heart pounding. Then, she released him.

“Go,” she said firmly, helping him to his feet. “Ride for the capital. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Find your sons. Stay with them. Don’t look back.”

The nobleman blinked, stunned. “You’re letting me go?”

“I’m not here for the drama,” she replied, already turning away. “I’m here to do a job.”

She disappeared around the corner without waiting for a response, cloak snapping behind her as her boots hit the wet stone in quick strides. The rooftops overhead loomed dark against the afternoon sun as she ran, weaving through the maze of alleys, retracing the path Katsuki had taken. She didn’t stop, instead she just followed instinct and the quiet humming of tension in the city air.

Finally, she found him. Katsuki stood in a dead-end alley, breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The wall beside him bore a fresh dent, his hood had fallen back, revealing damp strands of ash-blond hair clinging to his brow.

She slowed her steps and approached carefully. “Katsuki?”

He didn’t look at her right away.

“ He escaped. ” The words were low and harsh, forced through clenched teeth.

Rosie sighed softly, stepping beside him. “Then we spooked him. He knows we’re close.”

He turned his head sharply. “ Too close. He moved like a damned phantom. He knew I was behind him before I even got the drop. Changed pace mid-run, cut through the smoke chimney—I almost lost my footing.”

“But you didn’t,” she offered gently.

His jaw twitched. “Doesn’t matter. I still lost him.”

Rosie exhaled and leaned against the wall beside him, their shoulders nearly touching. “It wasn’t for nothing. I spoke to Maeben.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed.

“He saw the assassin,” she explained. “And he knew him. Recognized him. Said he was dead—killed years ago. But now he’s resurfaced, and he’s finishing what he started.”

Katsuki went still, absorbing the words.

Rosie pushed off the wall. “We should head to the next target. If he’s working down a list, he won’t stop now. And after this? He’ll be twice as careful.”

Katsuki nodded once, gruff. “Then we don’t give him time to disappear again.”

Rosie turned her gaze toward the west gate. “It’s a few hours’ ride. If we leave now, we can beat nightfall.”

He rolled his shoulders, his frustration coiled tight—but focused. “Then let’s finish this.”

Rosie had never been to the city of Limaerian—a sprawling, salt-stained port tucked between cliffs and sea. It was a place of weary sailors and crooked fortunes, where fog slithered in off the water like smoke and the moonlight reflected silver off every slick surface. Tonight, the city slept uneasily beneath a heavy shroud of mist, the air thick with the scent of fish, brine, and rain-soaked stone.

She moved like a shadow through it all. Dressed head-to-toe in black—tight combat pants, a corset that hugged her waist and long sleeves fitted to her wrists—Rosie was armed with daggers hidden in every crease and seam of her outfit. Her cloak shifted softly behind her, hood drawn, face obscured by a smooth black mask that covered everything from her nose to her chin.

Silent. Invisible. Watching.

Her heels clicked faintly against the cobblestone as she skirted the outer edge of the manor’s second floor, having scaled the side wall with ease. The fog clung to everything, swallowing noise, and lending an eerie silence to the narrow walkways. Through her peripheral vision, she could occasionally glimpse the guards patrolling below—Katsuki among them, wearing the silver-crested mask of the estate’s elite guard. He hadn’t spoken before he left. He hadn’t needed to. They understood each other without words now.

She was to find him. He was to protect the target.

Her eyes scanned every window, every balcony, every odd creak of old wood.

She was patient and focused. She finally stepped inside through a second-floor window—left open, despite the damp chill—her instincts screamed.

The room was too quiet and too... expectant.

Her sharp eyes swept the room, quickly noting the fireplace long since gone cold, the bed still made, the candles freshly burned out... save for one flickering lamp sitting by the writing desk, casting long, flickering shadows. Rosie’s hand moved instantly. She flicked her wrist, a dagger flying with deadly precision. The lamp shattered, and darkness swallowed the room whole and that was when he moved.

A blur of motion, fast and fluid, as the assassin burst from the armoire on her left, a gleam of silver arcing toward her neck. Rosie dodged just in time, twisting low to the ground and kicking outward. He leapt over the strike and came down hard, forcing her back, his attacks swift, controlled, elegant. She parried with her forearms, blocking and redirecting his strikes with barely a breath between them.

Steel clashed in the dark, footfalls muffled by the heavy rug. He moved with the precision of someone trained—deadly, clean, and without hesitation.

But so did she.

They fought in tight quarters—Rosie using the furniture, leaping over chairs, dodging behind a bedpost, launching counterstrikes from angles designed to cripple. But he was good. Too good. He matched her pace, until finally he caught her.

One wrong turn, one second too slow and he had her.

He slammed her down onto the writing desk, a dagger pressed tightly to her throat, his breath hot and rapid against her face. He pinned her wrists beneath his knees, straddling her as he stared down into her shadowed eyes.

Then, with a swift flick, he tore the mask from her face. His brows furrowed, “…An elf?”

He sounded… confused. 

That moment of hesitation was all she needed. Her knee came up, fast and sharp, catching him just enough to rock his balance. Her left wrist slipped free. She grabbed his forearm, twisted, and used his own weight to flip them both. In a blur of movement, she was the one on top, straddling his waist, her blade now pressed firmly to his throat. Rosie’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight through the open window. “I’m here to bring you in,” she said, breathless but steady. “For escaping your prison. For finishing a kill list that should’ve died with you.”

The assassin’s smirk was slow and razor-sharp, a wolf’s smile in a lamb’s clothing. Even pinned beneath her, with cold steel pressed to his throat, he radiated the calm of a man who’d danced with death far too many times to be shaken by it. “Then you’re in my way,” he said, voice low, his breath ghosting across her face. “I tend to avoid collateral… but you’re no innocent. So I have no problem adding you to my ledger of kills.”

Her jaw tightened, eyes flashing. “Bold of you to think I won’t kill you first,” she growled.

He scoffed, the smile never leaving his face. “Elves are known for many things. Grace. Beauty. Delicate sensibilities. Killing isn’t one of them.”

Rosie bared her teeth like a cornered predator. “I have my own ledger,” she snapped—and pushed the dagger harder, enough to draw a thin line of blood along his neck.

The man’s eyes flared briefly with interest. Not fear.

Amusement.

Then he moved.

A powerful twist of his hips and a sharp buck of his legs sent Rosie flying back. She rolled with the force, hitting the floor in a controlled spin and landing on one knee, her dagger already raised again.

He was on his feet too, wiping the blood from his throat with the back of his hand, eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“That was impressive,” he admitted, circling her slowly. “For someone so delicate.”

Rosie’s mouth curled into a dark smile as she stalked around him, keeping distance. “And you're cocky for someone who just had a blade to their throat.”

“Guilty,” he said with a lazy shrug. “But admit it—you’re having fun.”

She lunged first, blade flashing through the air. He met her with a parry, steel ringing against steel. He was fast—almost unnaturally so—but she was faster than most expected. They moved like water over stone, clashing in close quarters, breaking apart and rejoining in a dance of deadly rhythm.

“You’re good,” he said between strikes. “Who trained you?”

“I taught myself,” she replied, ducking low to avoid a high swipe and slashing toward his ribs.

He pivoted away and chuckled, a glint of admiration in his dark eyes. “Self-taught and still this precise? Saints, you’re full of surprises.”

“Keep talking,” she huffed. “It’ll make gutting you more entertaining.”

He stepped forward, catching her wrist mid-swing. “If I didn’t have to kill you, I’d buy you dinner.”

She spun, using his grip against him and wrenching her arm free, elbowing him in the stomach. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to feed you your own teeth. ”

He staggered back, coughing—then laughed. “Spirited, aren’t you? I think I like that.”

Rosie charged again, fury and precision burning through every strike. He blocked, ducked, dodged, but even he was starting to feel the edges of fatigue. Her dagger grazed his side, then his shoulder, nicking through the dark fabric of his clothes. Still, he grinned like a man who’d found his equal or maybe his next obsession. “What's your name, darling?” he asked as their blades locked.

“Why?” she panted, holding her ground.

“Because if you’re going to haunt my nightmares after this, I’d at least like to know who you are.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Rosie.”

The assassin blinked. Then chuckled again, dark and delighted. “Rosie. That’s cute. Doesn’t fit a killer. I’ll remember it.”

He shoved her back suddenly and with force, enough to send her stumbling a step. By the time she recovered, he was already at the window, balanced on the edge like a shadow with a heartbeat. “See you soon, Rosie,” he said, giving a cheeky salute and then he was gone—vanishing into the fog like a breath of wind, leaving only the echo of his laughter and the scent of rain behind.

Rosie exhaled hard, chest heaving, blade still clenched tight in her hand. “Bastard,” she muttered—but couldn’t help the slight tug at her lips.

Rosie bent down, snatching her fallen mask from the floor, and in one fluid motion, pulled it over her face once more. Her cloak billowed behind her as she sprinted toward the window, eyes narrowed against the cold night wind. Without hesitation, she scaled the ledge and jumped . The fog swallowed her immediately, but she moved like a wraith through it.

Her boots hit the rooftop below with barely a sound. A flash of movement in the distance—just at the edge of the low, slanted roofs—caught her attention. She didn’t hesitate. Darting across the rooftops, she leapt the gaps between buildings with feline grace, using her elven agility and advanced hearing to track the footfalls in the darkness.

He was fast for a human, but she was an elf, and when the timing was perfect, she jumped again —arms out, knees bent—and landed square on his shoulders with enough force to send them both crashing into the slick cobblestone street below. He hit the ground hard with a grunt, and she flipped forward, landing a few feet away in a crouch. She rose slowly, turning to face him, her voice cold beneath the mask. “I can’t let you go.”

The assassin groaned, rolling onto his side, and pushed himself upright with a grunt. Blood trickled from his mouth where he’d bit his tongue, but still— still —he smirked. “I figured you’d say that.” He stood, shaking out his limbs, and looked up at her, expression finally sobering. “But I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Not until the list is completed.”

Rosie tilted her head slightly. “Why?”

He stared at her in the fog—moonlight barely illuminating the edges of his sharp face. For a long moment, he said nothing. And then: “They killed my family,” he said simply.

Rosie’s brows drew together beneath her hood.

He took a slow step forward, not threatening—just… tired. “All of them. My mother. My father. Two younger sisters. Even our dog. Poisoned, then burned. Our home reduced to ash.” His voice was tight, barely controlled. “The people on my list—they were the ones who orchestrated it. For land. For money. For reputation. We were the obstacle, so they removed us.”

Rosie’s fingers loosened slightly on her dagger.

“They painted us as traitors. Said my father was hoarding dark artifacts, consorting with warlocks. Said we were a danger to the realm.” His jaw clenched, eyes burning with something older than rage— grief. “They took everything. My inheritance, my family name, and they blamed it all on me.” He glanced away, jaw twitching. “I survived. I don’t know how—I remember crawling through mud and blood and flame, then blacking out. When I woke up, I was in chains.”

Rosie was quiet.

“They tried to execute me,” he went on. “Only the intervention of a corrupt official saved me—and not out of mercy. I was too valuable alive. I became a message. An example. Then I became a number behind prison bars.” He looked at her again, something raw in his voice now. “I lost everything. My name. My home. My dignity. But I never forgot their faces. I etched them into my memory. One by one.”

Rosie didn’t move, didn’t speak.

He stepped closer. “I’m not a mindless killer. I’m not a thug. I’m a reaper —and I only collect what I’m owed.” His voice dropped lower. “I’ll finish this list… even if I have to go through you to do it.”

Rosie stood still. The fog curled between them like ghosts whispering indecision. Her dagger remained gripped in her hand, but her fingers had loosened. Her body was ready to strike—but her heart, her mind… not so much. You should stop him. He’s a killer. A criminal. This was the mission. Bring him in—dead or alive. Preferably alive. But why does this feel different?

Rosie’s jaw clenched behind the mask as she stared at the man before her. His words echoed louder in her mind than they had in the night air. He was a boy. A son. A brother. Then the world twisted him into something sharp. Something hollow. Something useful to the darkness.

Her heart ached, not just for him—but because… if it had been her? Would she have done anything different? How many had she killed? How many lives had she taken for coin? For contracts? For reasons that, at the time, felt justified ? She wasn’t innocent. He had said it himself, and it had stung—not because it was cruel, but because it was true. What right did she have to judge him ? To play arbiter of vengeance and justice? What made her life’s bloodshed righteous and his... not?

Her eyes flicked to his. He stood still, watching her carefully, breathing light and shallow like a man standing on the edge of something fragile. And then, finally—slowly—Rosie let out a long breath. She lowered her dagger. “Go.”

The assassin blinked. “…What?”

Rosie pulled down her mask just enough for her voice to come out steady and clear in the fog. “You heard me. Go.”

He stared at her, stunned. “…Why?”

She hesitated—then met his eyes squarely. “Because… if I were you, I’d do the same.”

Silence fell heavy between them. She tucked her dagger back into her belt and turned slightly, motioning toward the cliffs behind the estate.

“I’ll tell them I killed you. That your body went over the edge. Into the ocean.”

His throat bobbed in a tight swallow. “You’d lie… for me?”

“No,” she said. “For myself.”

He was quiet, “…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Just go. Before I change my mind.”

He took a step back into the mist, then paused. “Why? Why would you let someone like me keep killing?”

Rosie didn’t answer right away.

But then she glanced back at him, eyes clouded with something old and weary. “Because… you were right.”

He frowned slightly.

“I’m not innocent,” she admitted. “I’ve killed more than my fair share. Some of them deserved it. Some of them didn’t. I was younger then. I didn’t always ask questions.” She looked away. “I don’t know how many names are in my own ledger anymore. But I know enough to understand that I’m no better than you. And if I’m no better…” Her voice softened, “…Who am I to decide who lives and dies?”

He didn’t answer. There was no argument to be made. Just understanding. A long, lingering moment passed. “Thank you,” he nodded. “I will never forget you Rosie .” Then, with a final nod, he turned and disappeared into the mist. 

Rosie stood there in the quiet dark for a long while before pulling her hood up and vanishing in the opposite direction, toward the Inn. 

The room at the inn was simple but comfortable—thick stone walls to keep the ocean chill at bay, a crackling hearth in the corner, and a large bed with soft blankets that still smelled faintly of lavender and smoke. The window was slightly ajar, letting in the scent of sea fog and the sound of distant waves crashing against the harbor.

The door creaked open just as Rosie stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind her like mist. Her pink hair was damp and tousled, clinging to her shoulders, and she wore one of her looser shirts over sleep shorts. Her skin glowed from the heat of the water, and she rubbed at her neck with a towel as she blinked at Katsuki stepping into the room.

He stopped in the doorway, one brow arching.

“You finish the job?” he asked, voice low and casual—but laced with curiosity.

Rosie paused, tossing the towel onto a nearby chair. She glanced at him over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “No,” she said simply.

Katsuki blinked. “No?”

“I let him go.”

He shut the door behind him, frowning now as he took a few steps in. “You what? ”

She exhaled, walking toward the bed and pulling back the covers. “I told him to run. Said I’d tell the client he fell into the sea.”

“You—” Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, staring at her like she’d just announced the sky was green. “Rosie, what the hell? We’ve been tracking him for days. He’s a wanted killer. He’s dangerous.”

“I know,” she said, climbing into the bed and pulling the blanket up to her chest. “But so am I.”

Katsuki stared harder.

She looked up at the ceiling as she continued, her voice quieter now. “He’s not innocent. But neither am I. I’ve done terrible things, Katsuki. Things I’ve never told anyone. I’ve taken lives… some for money, some for revenge. What gives me the right to decide that he doesn’t get the same choice?”

He stood there in the middle of the room, arms crossed, his jaw clenched in that way he always did when frustration crept in and he didn’t quite know where to place it. 

“I just couldn’t do it,” she whispered, her voice barely louder than the wind beyond the window. She turned on her side, facing away from him, pulling the blanket up to her chin like armor. “Couldn’t kill him and live with myself.”

Silence settled into the room like dust—soft, thick, and impossible to ignore. The fire crackled quietly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the walls. The breeze outside stirred the curtains with a lazy hand, carrying the salt-sweet scent of the sea through the narrow gap in the window.

Katsuki remained where he stood for a long moment, staring at her still form in bed. His jaw was tight, arms crossed, the muscle ticking in his temple with every second he didn’t speak. He wasn’t good at this—these moral gray areas, these soft things that people like Rosie carried so easily and still managed to smile through.

He exhaled slowly, then moved across the room. His footsteps were softer than usual—less warrior, more man. Lowering himself into the chair beside the fire, he rested his elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the flames that danced and sputtered. Orange light played across the sharp lines of his face, softening the edges that rarely ever dulled.

He didn’t say anything at first. Because what could he say? She’d done something he didn’t expect. Something he wouldn’t have, not so easily. And yet…He understood it. Killing wasn’t just the job. For a long time—for too long—he enjoyed it. The clarity it gave. The way it made things simple. Clean. Efficient. But Rosie was different. Her hands were just as stained as his, and yet somehow she still saw the worth in mercy. Still believed some souls could be spared. And it made him wonder… Had he lost that part of himself? Or had it never been there to begin with?

Katsuki dragged a hand through his hair with a sigh. His voice broke the silence at last. “…Alright.”

Rosie stirred, her head lifting slightly from the pillow. She rolled onto her back and pushed herself up, sleep still clinging to her lashes as she looked over at him. “…You mean it?” she asked quietly. “You would’ve let him go too? For me?”

His eyes flicked over to her, meeting hers in the firelight. And though his mouth was set in a familiar scowl, his tone lacked the usual bite. “Yes,” he said.

She blinked, lips parting in surprise.

“But don’t get all mushy about it,” he added quickly, standing and making his way toward the bed. “Now shut up and go to sleep. You haven’t slept in days.”

Rosie’s lips curved into a small smile as she lay back down, rolling to her side once more with her cheek resting on the pillow. “Bossy,” she murmured.

He smirked faintly, pulling the chair closer to the bed and sitting beside her with his arms crossed again. His eyes remained on her face for a few quiet seconds as her breathing slowed. “…Thanks, Katsuki,” she whispered into the dark.

“Yeah, yeah.”

But he didn’t move. Not until her eyes fluttered shut and the fire burned low, casting them both in the warm hush of peace, however fleeting.

The tavern was warm and alive with the scent of roasting meat, spilled ale, and salt from the sea that clung to every stone and timber. Music strummed lazily in the background—some local bard half-drunk and only remembering half the chords—but neither Rosie nor Katsuki paid it much mind.

They were seated in a tucked-away booth near the corner, a pair of mismatched tankards between them, both nearly empty. Rosie was leaned back with her boots propped on the bench, pink hair falling loose from its braid, cheeks flushed from drink and laughter.

Katsuki nursed his second ale, watching her with a familiar scowl that barely masked the amusement behind his eyes.

“So,” Rosie said, twirling her tankard idly between her fingers, “we’ve had food, drink, and no one’s tried to stab us in the last hour. That’s a record.”

“For this town?” Katsuki took a long sip. “Yeah.”

Rosie grinned, her eyes sparkling. “We should celebrate. I vote swimming.”

Katsuki stopped mid-drink and lowered his tankard slowly. “Swimming.”

She nodded, already starting to rise from her seat. “The moon’s out, the tide’s low. I saw a cove just past the dock. Perfect place for a dip.”

Katsuki snorted. “Yeah, sure. If you wanna end up in a watery grave.”

Rosie blinked, halfway pulling on her cloak. “What?”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “These waters are crawling with sirens. Nasty things. Gorgeous from afar, mouths full of fangs up close. They turn women into one of them and lure men into the water to eat ‘em. Slowly.”

Rosie sat back down with a thud. “…Seriously?”

“Dead serious.” He jerked his head toward the tavern wall where a crude painting hung above the hearth. It showed a woman with shimmering skin and black, soulless eyes dragging a sailor into the waves, his face twisted in horror. “They say sirens used to only live deep in the sea, but now? They like hugging the shores. Especially at night. Especially near moonlit coves.”

Rosie frowned. “I’ve never seen one.”

“That’s the idea,” he said dryly. “You don’t see ‘em until you’ve already taken your boots off.”

She gave an exaggerated pout. “So no midnight swim?”

Katsuki raised a brow. “Not unless you want scales and a taste for human hearts.”

Rosie shuddered. “Pass. I like my current dietary preferences, thank you.”

He chuckled into his drink. “Smart elf.”

She leaned forward, chin propped on her hand. “You seem to know a lot about sirens.”

“I killed two last year. Took forever to drag their corpses to shore. Slippery bastards.” He eyed her over the rim of his tankard. “One of ‘em looked like she could’ve been your cousin.”

She made a face. “Charming.”

He smirked. “She screamed like one too.”

Rosie kicked his boot under the table, laughing. “You’re an ass.”

“But a dry one. Which is more than I can say for the sailors who tried swimming after a night like this.”

Rosie lifted her drink in mock salute. “To not dying horribly in the ocean.”

Katsuki clinked his tankard against hers. “Cheers to that.”

Rosie pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and reached down beside her, retrieving a worn leather-bound journal from the satchel she always carried. The corners were frayed, and the strap that held it closed was patched with a bit of green thread. It had clearly seen many roads, many days and nights, many tales scribbled into its pages.

She opened it with care and flipped past sketches, pressed flowers, folded letters, faded ink maps, and clippings of old bounty notes. Katsuki watched her with a raised brow, the firelight catching on the silver loops of her earrings and the ink stains on her fingertips.

He tilted his tankard toward the book. “What’s that for?”

Rosie didn’t look up right away, her eyes focused as she began writing on a blank page in flowing, practiced Elvish script. “My journal. I record everything that happens to me. The creatures I’ve met or killed, the legends I’ve heard, any ruins or artifacts we come across…” She glanced at him briefly, then returned to her notes. “I even write down things people say. Stories. Quotes. Anything worth remembering.”

Katsuki rested his chin on his hand. “Huh. Why?”

“So I don’t forget.” Her voice was soft now. “Elves live a long time, Katsuki. Some of us go centuries without aging more than a blink.” Her quill moved quickly over the page, sketching out a rough outline of a siren’s face with fanged teeth beneath charming lips. “But memories fade. Faces blur. After a few hundred years, people you knew start to feel like dreams you once had.”

She paused, dipping her pen into the inkwell clipped to the inside of the journal. “This helps me remember. Someday, when I’m older—when everyone I’ve known is gone, maybe—I’ll be able to read all this and remember the scent of the tavern we’re sitting in. The things you’ve said. The monsters we’ve killed. How it felt to be alive now. ”

Katsuki blinked, thrown for a moment. It had never occurred to him—how different time must feel to her compared to everyone else. How different he might feel to her as she still believes he is nothing more than human. He cleared his throat. “That’s… smart. Kinda depressing. But smart.”

She smiled without looking at him, her pen still moving. “Don’t worry, you’re mentioned a lot in here.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm,” she teased, glancing at him from beneath her lashes. “There’s an entire section titled Grumpiest Men I’ve Ever Met. You take up three pages.”

He snorted into his ale. “I better be number one.”

“You’re number only, ” she said with a wink.

Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t look away. He watched as she turned another page and carefully added a pressed petal from the flower she’d picked that morning. She was meticulous and thoughtful and quietly wise in a way he wasn’t used to seeing up close.

“What do you think you’ll do when the journal’s full?” he asked after a moment.

Rosie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her pointed ear and smiled faintly. “Start another one. I want shelves full by the time I’m five hundred.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and gave a low grunt. “Hope you got a lot of ink.”

“I’ve got a lot of years,” she said, meeting his eyes. “And apparently, a very quotable companion.”

Katsuki scoffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He didn't say it, but the idea of her remembering him centuries from now —of her writing his name down so it wouldn’t be lost— sat strangely in his chest.

Not bad.

Just strange.

Perhaps he should do the same thing. However, Katsuki wasn’t the sentimental type, nor were his kind really. He wondered if it was a Rosie thing or perhaps it was because she was an elf and maybe they all kept journals like that.

However, the more he stared at her from across the table. He immediately decided it’s just a Rosie thing. 

The morning sun had just crested over the tiled rooftops of the coastal town, casting golden rays through the salty air and onto the cobbled streets. The marketplace was alive with color and chaos—merchants shouting over one another, children weaving through stalls, and the mingling scents of baked bread, spiced meat, and ocean breeze thick in the air.

Rosie walked with a practiced grace, a small woven basket hooked over one arm, while Katsuki trudged beside her with his usual scowl that kept most vendors too intimidated to peddle their wares at him. “We need dried meat, bread, healing salves, and—oh, I wanted to find more of that jasmine tea from yesterday,” Rosie chirped, already bouncing toward a spice stand.

Katsuki grunted, squinting at the sun and readjusting the strap of the pack he’d insisted on carrying. “You need tea. We need food. That’s the priority.”

“It is food,” she shot back, grabbing a handful of lavender buds and holding them to her nose. “Some of us enjoy life’s finer things.”

“Some of us don’t need three different herbs for a drink that smells like perfume and makes our water look like soup.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and handed a few coins to the elderly vendor, tucking the sachet of tea into her basket before sauntering off toward the next stall.

Katsuki followed, muttering under his breath, “Can’t believe I’m being dragged through a flower parade…”

At the fruit stand, Rosie began inspecting apples with the scrutiny of a royal chef. She picked one up, turned it, sniffed it, and placed it back down.

Katsuki stared. “You’re not marrying it. Pick a damn apple.”

“I’m making sure it’s not bruised.”

“It’s food, not a date.”

She picked up another one and chucked it lightly at his chest. He caught it effortlessly. “Congratulations,” she grinned. “You’re in charge of apples.”

He grumbled but tossed it into the pack anyway. As they rounded the corner toward a butcher’s stall, Rosie paused at a table selling colorful pastries shaped like little animals. Her eyes lit up, “Katsuki.”

“No.”

“But look—tiny jelly-filled foxes.”

“No.”

“They even have a boar! Like you!”

He gave her a flat stare. “You calling me a pig?”

She beamed. “A very angry one.”

“I’m not buying pastries.”

She bought two. As they continued gathering supplies, their bickering never fully stopped—but neither did the way they moved together so easily. When she reached high for something, he wordlessly handed it to her. When he grumbled about numbers, she counted coin. She bartered like a charmer, he scared the greedy ones off with a single glare.

Finally, arms full and baskets heavier, they stopped at a small bench near the square. Rosie plopped down beside him and handed him one of the fox pastries. “Peace offering,” she said sweetly.

He gave her a long, assessing look as if the very idea of eating a pastry shaped like a fox was a personal insult to his dignity. “…Fine,” he muttered, begrudgingly accepting it with a grunt.

Rosie beamed and leaned forward, hands folded beneath her chin as she watched him like a proud chef awaiting her first review.

Katsuki took a slow, suspicious bite, chewing once, twice, then swallowed. “…It’s not terrible,” he mumbled.

Rosie’s face lit up like the sun cresting over the sea. “Just admit it—you like the pastry.”

“I said it wasn’t terrible.”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.” She poked his arm teasingly with a finger. “C’mon. Just say it. ‘Rosie, you were right. This little pastry animal is a masterpiece of culinary craftsmanship, and I will never doubt your sweet tooth again.’ ”

He leveled her with a glare that only made her giggle more. “You rehearsed that line?”

“Maybe.”

“Gods, you’re exhausting.”

“And yet,” she said cheerfully, unwrapping another pastry shaped like a tiny bear, “here you are—still next to me.”

She took a delicate bite of the edge, the jelly glistening at the corner of her lips, then turned to him and held it out halfway, as if offering peace. “Wanna bite?”

He blinked at her, incredulous. “I’m not biting off your pastry.”

“What, scared of a little indirect kiss?”

His eye twitched. “No.”

“Then take the bite,” she said with a grin, lifting it closer to his mouth. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet…” she echoed, eyes glittering.

He huffed, lips twitching into a reluctant smirk. Then without warning he leaned in and took a small bite from the pastry she held up to him, sharp canines just brushing her fingertips. She blinked, not expecting him to actually go through with it.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Her fingers lingered near his face, his eyes on hers, just long enough for the teasing air between them to turn a little heavier—charged and delicate like the breath before a storm.

“...Good,” he admitted finally, chewing. “The filling’s better than the fox.”

Rosie, cheeks slightly flushed, just smiled and took another bite herself. “Told you. They know what they’re doing.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything else, but he watched her as she licked the last bit of sugar off her thumb, her laughter light and unguarded, her eyes shining with that open, easy warmth she never tried to hide. She wore her admiration for him like a badge—unapologetically. Proudly.

It always caught him off guard. And yet… there was comfort in it, too. Familiarity. The kind of closeness he wasn’t sure he knew how to express, but felt all the same.

He didn’t say it. Wouldn’t. Not yet. But he liked her laugh. He liked that she never looked at him with fear. And more than anything, he liked that she was still here. Still choosing to sit beside him, day after day, despite all his sharp edges.

Even if he’d never say it out loud, Katsuki Bakugou knew one thing for sure: He’d follow her into a thousand battles, if only to make sure she came out of every single one smiling like that, so full of warmth and sunshine that just being near her felt like he was being burned. 

Chapter Text

The woods were unnervingly silent as Rosie crept along the narrow dirt path, her bow drawn and eyes scanning the dense foliage for any signs of movement. The moonlight filtered through the skeletal branches, casting long shadows that danced with every sway of the wind. The western part of the Barron Woods had always been a place of eerie rumors, but now it was laced with something far darker. 

Katsuki had insisted they split up to cover more ground faster, despite her reservations. “Stay sharp,” he had said, his crimson gaze piercing in the dim light. “If you see anything, find me immediately. Don’t try to be a hero.”  

Now, those words echoed in her mind as she approached a small, crooked cabin nestled between the twisted trees. The air around it felt wrong—thick, heavy, and filled with the coppery scent of blood. Rosie’s ears twitched as she crouched low, her heartbeat hammering in her chest.  

The cabin was in disrepair, its wooden beams sagging and moss covering the roof. Faint light flickered through the cracks in the shutters. She could hear faint murmurs inside. Swallowing her apprehension, she crept closer, pressing herself against the side of the building.  

Peeking through a gap in the wood, her stomach churned. The inside of the cabin was a grotesque scene—a makeshift laboratory filled with jars of preserved body parts and twisted bones. On the far wall, several cages held people in various states of transformation. Their gaunt faces were stretched unnaturally, skin pale and stretched tight over sharp bones. Their hollow eyes glowed faintly with a sickly yellow hue as they let out guttural snarls. Wendigos.  

A man stood in the center of the room, his back to her as he worked on a bubbling cauldron of purple liquid. His voice was low and gravelly, muttering incantations as he stirred the concoction. Beside him, a table held crude drawings and notes detailing his plans—an army of wendigos, bred to obey his every command.  

Rosie’s breath hitched. She needed to warn Katsuki. 

Carefully, she stepped back, her boots crunching on a twig. The sound was deafening in the stillness of the night, and she froze, ears straining. Inside the cabin, the murmuring stopped.  

A low chuckle came from within. “Who’s there?”  

Rosie bolted.  

She darted into the trees, her heart pounding as she clutched her bow tightly. But before she could get far, a burst of purple smoke exploded in front of her, the acrid scent burning her nose. She stumbled, coughing violently as the edges of her vision blurred. Sleep magic.  

“You can’t run from me,” the man’s voice called out, closer now. “You’ll join them soon enough.”  

Rosie dropped her bow, dodging to the side as more smoke erupted around her. The forest became a maze of twisting roots and branches as she sprinted, her lungs burning with every breath.  

“You’re wasting your energy, little elf,” the man taunted, his voice unnervingly calm as it echoed through the trees. “Your partner’s already dead. He put up a good fight, I’ll give him that. But now it’s your turn.”  

Rosie clenched her jaw, refusing to let the panic consume her. “You’re lying!” she shouted back, though doubt gnawed at her mind.  

Another burst of smoke forced her to change direction, her feet slipping on the damp leaves. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and determination. She couldn’t let this monster win—not here, not like this.  

Branches tore at her skin as she ran, her vision swimming from the residual effects of the magic. She stumbled into a clearing, chest heaving, and spun around to face her pursuer. The man emerged from the shadows, his golden eyes gleaming with malicious delight.  

“You should’ve stayed hidden,” he sneered, raising his hand as another plume of smoke began to form.  

Rosie’s fingers twitched toward the dagger at her belt. If she could just hold him off long enough to find Katsuki—if he was still alive—then they might have a chance.  

“Come now,” the man crooned, stepping closer. “Why make this harder than it needs to be? I’ll make it quick. Or perhaps… I’ll take my time.”  

Rosie gritted her teeth, her muscles tensing. She wasn’t going to die here—not without a fight.  

The clearing opened up near the edge of a steep cliff, the moonlight reflecting off the jagged rocks below. The distant roar of rushing water filled the air, a sharp contrast to the tense silence between Rosie and the man stalking toward her.  

Rosie’s fingers brushed against the dagger at her hip, her mind racing as she calculated her next move. She knew she was faster, more agile—but he was larger, stronger, and radiated an unnatural aura of power.  

“Nowhere left to run,” he sneered, his golden eyes gleaming as he stepped closer.  

Rosie didn’t respond. Instead, she pivoted on her heel, her lithe body darting to the side as he lunged for her. With a sharp twist, she palmed her dagger, the silver blade glinting in the moonlight as she slashed upward.  

The blade sank into his shoulder blade with a sickening crunch. He roared in pain, stumbling back as blood seeped through his tattered cloak.  

“You little—” he growled, but Rosie didn’t give him a chance to recover.  

Using her flexibility, she flipped backward, creating distance before darting low to avoid his outstretched hand. With a burst of speed, she circled behind him and slashed at his thigh, her dagger cutting deep into muscle.  

The man staggered, cursing as his leg buckled slightly. “You’re a slippery one,” he spat, his voice laced with venom.  

Rosie danced back, her chest heaving as she gripped the bloodied dagger. “You’ll regret underestimating me,” she shot back, though her muscles screamed with exhaustion.  

He snarled, regaining his balance. “Oh, I don’t think so.”  

With a sudden burst of inhuman speed, he lunged at her. Rosie twisted, trying to evade, but his hand caught a fistful of her hair. Pain shot through her scalp as he yanked her back with brutal force.  

She cried out, her dagger slipping from her grasp as he slammed her down onto the rocky ground. The impact drove the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping as stars danced in her vision.  

“You stupid bitch,” he snarled, his knee pressing into her chest to pin her down.  

Rosie struggled, clawing at his arm and thrashing beneath him, but his weight was unrelenting. He grabbed her wrist, slamming it against the ground, forcing her to release the dagger.  

“You should’ve just run,” he hissed, raising his free hand. Before she could react, the back of his hand connected with her temple in a sharp, jarring blow.  

Her vision blurred, the world spinning as darkness crept in. She heard his mocking laughter as her body went limp, her mind fading into unconsciousness.  

The last thing she felt was the cold sting of the night air against her skin and the cruel weight of his knee keeping her down.  

Then she saw black.

Rosie’s head throbbed as consciousness returned, a dull ache radiating from her temple where she’d been struck. She groaned softly, shifting against the cold, unforgiving surface beneath her. Her fingers twitched, but the sharp bite of metal against her wrists quickly told her she wasn’t free.  

Her hands were bound tightly behind her back, the cuffs glowing faintly with runes etched into the surface. Magic-binding cuffs.  

Panic rose in her chest as her senses came fully alive. The air was damp and cold, heavy with the scent of mildew and age. She shivered as she took in her surroundings: a small, dimly lit room with rough stone walls and no visible door. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint whistle of wind echoing through the open space.  

She noticed wide arched openings in the walls, and despite the overwhelming urge to stay put and assess her predicament, curiosity and survival instinct pushed her forward. She shuffled to her knees and awkwardly crawled toward the nearest opening, her bindings making her movements clumsy.  

The chill of the stone seeped through her clothing as she approached the ledge. Peering out, her breath caught in her throat.  

The world beyond was bathed in darkness, the moon casting a pale glow over the jagged cliffs below. Far below, the shadowy expanse of a forest spread out, the tops of the trees swaying in the wind. She craned her neck, looking up and down, and her heart sank.  

The tower stretched impossibly high into the night sky, its jagged spire seemingly piercing the heavens. There were no stairs, no ladder, no visible way down—or up. Just smooth, weathered stone and a long, treacherous drop.  

Fear settled in her chest, cold and heavy. She was trapped.  

Rosie backed away from the ledge, her pulse racing. Her breathing quickened as the enormity of her situation pressed down on her. Where am I? How did I get here? 

The man’s sneering voice echoed in her mind. “You’ll regret this.”  

Had he brought her here? For what purpose?  

She glanced around the room again, her sharp eyes scanning for anything that could help her. The cuffs on her wrists buzzed faintly with restrained magic, a cruel reminder of her helplessness. Her daggers were gone—of course, he would have stripped her of her weapons.  

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to stay calm. Panic wouldn’t solve anything. She needed to think.  

Her gaze flicked back to the opening, and she crept toward it again, despite the gnawing fear. She had to study her surroundings, understand the layout, the terrain—anything that might give her a chance.  

The wind whipped at her face as she stared out into the night. She clenched her fists against the binding cuffs, ignoring the way they dug into her skin.  

Somewhere out there, Katsuki was waiting. He was alive. He had to be and Rosie wasn’t going to give up without a fight.  

The air in the tower grew colder, a sinister chill creeping up Rosie’s spine as a puff of smoke swirled into the room. The man appeared, his figure materializing with a flash of violet light. He looked disheveled, blood smeared across his arm and thigh, and a jagged gash ran along his shoulder.  

Despite his injuries, he sneered at her, his golden eyes gleaming with malice. Without a word, he stormed toward her, grabbing her hair and yanking her down onto her knees. Rosie winced but refused to cry out, glaring up at him through narrowed eyes.  

“You’re going to beg for your life,” he spat, his fingers tightening in her hair.  

Rosie tilted her head slightly, ignoring the ache in her scalp. “Why are you making a wendigo army?” she asked calmly, her voice steady despite the situation.  

The question caught him off guard, his sneer faltering for a moment. Then he barked a harsh laugh, his grip loosening just enough for her to shift. “Why? Because I deserve a family. One just like me. Broken, cursed, powerful.”  

He crouched down, his face mere inches from hers. His breath was warm and acrid against her skin as he added, “And who knows? Maybe you’ll be part of that family. A pretty bride for a monster like me.”  

Disgust curled in Rosie’s stomach, but she didn’t show it. Instead, she moved swiftly. Using the leverage of her bound hands and her legs, she twisted and swept her foot across his, catching him off guard. He yelped as he stumbled backward, landing hard on the stone floor.  

Rosie scrambled to her feet, her movements clumsy with her hands bound, and stumbled back toward the ledge. The wind whipped around her as she stood at the edge, her heart racing but her gaze defiant.  

The man pushed himself up, his lip curled in a snarl as he watched her. “You’ve got two choices, elf,” he hissed. “Fall to your death or join me. Either way, you belong to me.”  

Rosie smiled, a sharp, knowing grin that made his expression falter. She felt a pull deep within her, her magic flickering despite the cuffs that bound her. Her heart steadied. “Not to you. Never to you.”  

Before he could react, she stepped backward off the ledge, the cold night air swallowing her whole.  

The man’s face twisted in shock and fury, his roar of frustration echoing in the tower as Rosie plummeted toward the ground below.  

“Katsuki!” she screamed, her voice cutting through the wind.  

A flash of movement blurred above her, and then strong, familiar arms wrapped around her, stopping her descent. Katsuki’s face was inches from hers, his crimson eyes blazing with fury as he held her tightly against his chest.  

“You damn idiot!” he shouted, his voice trembling with emotion. “Why the hell would you jump?”  

Rosie only smiled up at him, her ears twitching as her hair whipped around her face. “I knew you would catch me.”  

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he was going to yell at her again. Instead, he pulled her closer, holding her like he never wanted to let go. “You’re insane,” he muttered, his voice softening.  

“Maybe,” she teased, her voice barely audible over the wind. “But I have faith in you.”  

He growled softly, his grip tightening as he began to descend toward the ground, his protective embrace never faltering. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”  

Katsuki landed on the forest floor with a controlled force, holding Rosie securely in his arms. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft glow over them as he gently set her down on the grass. His jaw was tight, and his crimson eyes scanned her for any sign of injury.  

“You shouldn’t jump out of towers like that,” he said gruffly, his voice edged with frustration.  

Rosie gave him a faint, teasing smile as she rubbed her wrists, the cold metal of the cuffs biting into her skin. “Would you believe me if I told you I have a fear of heights?”  

Katsuki froze, staring at her in disbelief. Then his eyes narrowed, and he growled low in his throat. “You still jumped?”  

“I already told you,” Rosie said softly, meeting his gaze. “I have faith in you. You’re my partner, Katsuki.”  

He looked at her for a long moment, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, before he crouched down. Without a word, he gripped the magic-binding cuffs around her wrists. His muscles tensed, veins standing out in his forearms, as he pulled with sheer force. With a sharp crack, the cuffs snapped apart, clattering to the ground.  

Rosie rubbed her freed wrists, flexing her fingers as she watched him. “Thanks,” she murmured.  

“Tch.” Katsuki stood, glaring at the broken cuffs. “You better not pull that crap again.”  

She laughed softly, though the sound was tinged with exhaustion. “I’ll do my best.”  

His eyes narrowed. “What the hell happened in there?”  

Rosie’s expression grew serious, her gaze flickering back to the towering structure in the distance. “The man who grabbed me—he’s… unhinged. He’s kidnapping people and turning them into wendigos. He said he’s building an army.” She paused, her voice tightening. “He tried to turn me into one too. That’s why I jumped. It was the only way out.”  

Katsuki’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. The thought of her being turned into one of those monsters made something dark and primal rise in his chest, a protective rage he didn’t fully understand. He turned his glare toward the tower, his crimson eyes blazing with fury.  

“I’m going to kill the bastard,” he growled, his voice low and deadly.  

Rosie reached out, her hand brushing against his arm. “Katsuki—”  

“No,” he snapped, his gaze not leaving the tower. “He messed with the wrong people. He doesn’t get to walk away from this.”  

"Not that. We should be careful, he might have released those wendigos." Rosie nodded, her expression softening. 

Katsuki finally looked at her, his gaze softening for just a moment before hardening again. “Stay close. I’m not letting that asshole get near you again.”  

Rosie smiled faintly, a spark of determination in her eyes. “You lead, and I’ll follow.”  

With a sharp nod, Katsuki turned toward the tower, his hands crackling faintly with energy. The hunt was on.

The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting shifting shadows as Rosie and Katsuki made their way up the hill. The forest was eerily quiet, save for the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the faint rustle of the wind. Rosie’s fingers curled tightly around the dagger Katsuki had given her, the weight of it grounding her as they pressed forward.  

She followed closely behind him, her gaze darting to every shadow and flickering movement. Katsuki moved with a quiet confidence, his crimson eyes scanning the woods, every muscle in his body taut and ready.  

Then the howling started—a bone-chilling wail that echoed through the trees, distant but unmistakable. Rosie froze, her heart pounding in her chest as the sound grew louder, reverberating from the east.  

Her hand shot out, gripping Katsuki’s arm. He stopped instantly, his body going rigid as he turned his sharp gaze to her. Rosie’s wide eyes flickered toward the source of the noise, her breath hitching.  

Katsuki shifted slightly, leaning toward her in a gesture so subtle it might have gone unnoticed if she weren’t so close. His warmth and solid presence were a small comfort against the growing dread. His eyes, however, never left the eastern woods.  

“They’re close,” he said, his voice low and calm, “but they haven’t found us yet.”  

Rosie swallowed hard, her grip on his arm tightening. “Have you ever fought wendigos before?”  

Katsuki’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he straightened, his hand flexing at his side. “No.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his tone gaining a note of grim confidence. “But there’s a first for everything.”  

Despite the tension, Rosie found herself smiling, her nerves easing just slightly. “That’s one way to look at it,” she said softly.  

Her giggle broke the tension further, and Katsuki turned to her fully, raising an eyebrow. “What’s so funny, elf?”  

“Nothing,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips. “It’s just… you. You make me feel safe, even in situations like this.”  

Katsuki snorted, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, well, you better stick close. I don’t plan on letting any of those things get near you.”  

Rosie nodded, her grip slipping from his arm but her steps keeping pace with his. Together, they turned their focus back to the hill, the howls still echoing in the distance.

After walking for an hour the trees parted, giving way to a wide clearing bathed in pale moonlight. In the center, five wendigos stood hunched and twitching, their gaunt, skeletal forms illuminated in eerie detail. Their bald heads glistened under the faint light, their glowing, milky eyes locked on the newcomers. Sharp, jagged teeth gleamed as they growled, their unnervingly wide mouths snapping open and shut with a sickening click.  

Rosie’s breath hitched, and her fingers instinctively curled tighter around Katsuki’s arm. The growls were low and guttural, vibrating through the air and sending chills down her spine.  

Katsuki glanced at her, his eyes narrowing. “You good?”  

Rosie’s jaw tightened, but she straightened her back and released his arm, taking a step forward. Her fingers twitched as magic sparked to life, flickering like small flames between them. She looked at him, a mix of fear and determination in her eyes. “First for everything, right?”  

Katsuki’s lips curled into a smirk, his own hands flexing as small explosions crackled in his palms. “Damn right.”  

Their gazes locked for a beat, unspoken understanding passing between them. Rosie gave a small nod, her heart steadying as she turned back to the wendigos.  

The creatures had spread out slightly, their long limbs jerking as they edged closer. Their growling grew louder, teeth gnashing with anticipation.  

Rosie let out a shaky laugh, trying to ease the tension. “We should get drinks after this.”  

Katsuki snorted, crouching into a wide, aggressive stance. His crimson eyes gleamed with excitement as he rolled his shoulders. “You just want to get drunk.”  

“Maybe,” Rosie teased, her magic flaring brighter as she lifted her hands. Her smile widened, though her focus remained sharp. “More bonding though.”  

The closest wendigo let out a shriek and lunged forward, breaking the moment. Katsuki exploded into motion, his hands erupting with fire and light as he propelled himself forward. Rosie followed, her magic a glowing whip of energy slicing through the dark.  

The wendigos lunged forward with terrifying speed, their gaunt limbs twisting unnaturally as they growled, their shrill, predatory shrieks echoing through the forest. Their bloodshot, sunken eyes locked on the two, hungry for the kill. 

Katsuki moved like a flash of lightning, his form a blur as he shot forward, his hands glowing bright with explosive energy. His first blast ripped through the air, sending a wendigo stumbling back, its shriek cut off in a violent burst of flames. But it didn’t stop—its bony legs dug into the earth as it righted itself, its claws scraping the dirt and snatching the air with frenzied desperation.  

“Stay down, you ugly bastard!” Katsuki snarled, launching another explosive ball that tore through the wendigo’s chest. The force sent it sprawling across the clearing, lifeless. But that only left four others, and they were circling in on him like wolves, claws extended and mouths agape, showing rows of sharp, jagged teeth.  

Rosie, her heart pounding, spun to her right, her magic igniting in waves, crackling like a storm. Her fingers flared, drawing the magic close before she snapped them forward. A ribbon of bright, ethereal light shot out from her fingertips, slicing through the air like a whip. The first wendigo was met with a sharp crack of magic, its head jerking back from the strike. She didn’t give it a chance to recover, summoning another burst of energy—her magic twisted, sending a blast that knocked it off its feet, sending it tumbling to the ground.  

But the remaining wendigos weren’t backing down. One lunged at her, claws outstretched, its shriek splitting the air as it shot forward. Rosie twisted and ducked, narrowly avoiding its attack as she spun away, her magic already working to ward it off. A barrier of light sprung into place just in time to block its sharp claws. 

“You’re not getting through that,” she muttered under her breath, her pulse racing as she gritted her teeth. With one swift motion, she drove her hands outward, pushing the barrier forward like a tidal wave. The wendigo was flung backward, crashing into the forest floor with a loud crack. Rosie’s chest heaved as she pushed herself forward, summoning another blast of magic in her palms.  

She couldn’t help but glance over at Katsuki, who was already taking on the remaining wendigos. He moved with fierce precision, his explosions lighting up the night like bursts of sun in a pitch-black sky. Each punch and kick of his sent shockwaves through the air. One wendigo tried to swipe at him, its claws dangerously close to his face, but Katsuki was faster. He ducked under the attack and countered with an explosion point-blank, sending the creature flying backward. His eyes were alight with rage, his movements as fluid and controlled as a predator hunting its prey.  

Rosie’s heart raced at the sight, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She loved the fire in him, the way he gave everything to the fight. But she couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now.  

The last two wendigos made their move simultaneously, their long limbs stretching to their maximum length, claws glistening in the moonlight as they swiped at both of them. One of them, aiming for Katsuki, slashed at his torso, narrowly missing as he backflipped out of the way. His fingers flicked, another explosion lighting up the night air, and the wendigo howled in pain, smoke curling around its body as it tumbled.  

Rosie didn’t hesitate. Her eyes locked on the last wendigo, its eyes glimmering with malice. She sprinted toward it, her dagger flashing out from her side and her magic crackling around her. She closed the distance between them quickly, her foot planting firmly into the dirt as she slid past its slashing claws. With a sharp twist of her wrist, she plunged the dagger into its side. The wendigo screeched in agony, its body jerking violently as she twisted the blade, pulling it free and slashing it across its throat. Blood sprayed in a wide arc before it collapsed, its head falling forward, lifeless.  

Rosie stood there, panting, her hands shaking with the rush of the fight. She couldn’t quite believe it was over, that they had taken down the vicious creatures. Her body ached, but she couldn’t help but smile as she turned to find Katsuki, his back still turned as he wiped his hands on his pants.  

“You good?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes still sharp, scanning the area.  

“Just peachy,” Rosie laughed, though it was breathless.  

Katsuki shot her a quick, disbelieving glance. “You’re nuts. You literally just—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “Whatever. We’re done. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Hold on, I thought we were celebrating with drinks?” Rosie teased, wiping her brow and walking toward him.  

Katsuki snorted, turning away, his hand swiping the air. “Sure, if you want to waste time getting yourself drunk, go ahead. I’m going to get back to work.”  

Rosie giggled, falling into step beside him as they made their way out of the clearing, side by side. “You’re no fun.”  

Katsuki glanced at her, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You just keep me on my toes, don’t you?”  

The man who had been orchestrating the horrors of the forest stepped into view. His eyes were burning with rage, his hands trembling as he took in the sight of his fallen army.

"NO!" he bellowed, his voice dripping with fury. "You—you—killed them!" He staggered forward, his feet stomping through the dirt as he approached the two of them. His face twisted in madness, the veins on his forehead bulging with anger. "You think you can just walk away from this? You will pay for what you’ve done!"

Rosie blinked, her eyes flicking from the fallen bodies to the man’s enraged form. “Oh. I forgot about him,” she said casually.

Katsuki’s lips curled into a smirk, but it wasn’t one of satisfaction—it was a sneer, one that promised nothing good. His fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes darkened as they locked on the man, the fire in them burning with something far more dangerous than usual. 

The man’s frantic, wild eyes locked with Katsuki’s. “You think you’ve won? You think killing them will stop me? I’ll tear you apart!”

Katsuki took a step forward, not a trace of fear in his posture, only the cold, unrelenting confidence of someone who knew exactly how to destroy a soul. “You really think you’ve got the power to do anything to me?” he said softly, voice dark and deadly, each word laced with contempt. "What, you think I care about a few wendigos?"

The man hesitated, his jaw tightening. He must have realized, too late, that the rage he had been carrying was nothing compared to the fury brewing in Katsuki’s eyes. But he didn’t back down. Instead, he raised his hands, the air crackling with dark magic. He fired an unstable burst of energy directly at Katsuki.

Katsuki didn’t even flinch. With a flick of his wrist, he exploded the energy before it could even reach him, sending the blast spiraling into the air harmlessly. “Pathetic,” he sneered.

The man’s face twisted with disbelief, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "What... how are you—"

“I’m not like you,” Katsuki interrupted, his voice sharp as a blade. "I’ve been dealing with things like you my entire life. You think you're the only one with a dark side?" He smirked, his tone suddenly playful, mocking even. “You’re an amateur.”

The man’s expression flickered between rage and fear, but before he could even gather himself, Katsuki was on him in an instant, his fist aimed straight for the man’s face. The blow landed with a sickening crunch, and the man staggered back, barely managing to stay on his feet.

Katsuki closed the distance, grinning like a predator with his prey cornered. He grabbed the man by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease, the man’s feet kicking in desperation. "Pathetic," Katsuki repeated, his voice a low growl. "You tried to play god, turning people into monsters. But you never learned what happens when you play with fire.”

With a brutal jerk, Katsuki threw the man to the ground. He stood over him, eyes glinting darkly. “I’ve dealt with things worse than you. You’re nothing.”

The man scrambled, trying to raise his hands to protect himself, but Katsuki was faster. He moved like lightning, one final explosion sending the man’s body flying into the trees with a force that left no room for survival.

Rosie, standing a few feet away, watched the entire thing with an indifferent expression, her arms folded across her chest. She blinked once, then turned her head toward Katsuki. "Well... that was dramatic." She paused for a second, then added, “Can we get drinks now?”

Katsuki, his expression still dark and feral, straightened up, glancing over at her. He let out a frustrated sigh, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something close to amusement. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice rough. “Let’s get drinks.” 

Without missing a beat, he turned and walked toward the path that would lead them back. Rosie followed, smiling faintly, as if she hadn’t just witnessed a brutal, explosive killing.  

"I swear, you're more chill after watching someone die than anyone else I know," Katsuki grumbled, but there was a hint of fondness in his tone.  

"He wasn't a good person,” she replied nonchalantly with a shrug.

The crackling warmth of the tavern’s fire filled the room, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the clink of tankards and plates. Rosie and Katsuki sat at a wooden table near the hearth, a hearty meal of roasted meats, bread, and a tankard of ale in front of them. The scent of spiced stew and freshly baked bread hung in the air, the comfortable atmosphere a sharp contrast to the chaos they had just left behind in the woods.

Katsuki slouched back in his chair, his feet propped up on the edge of the table, his eyes half-lidded as he took another long drink from his mug. He didn’t say much, the firelight casting flickering shadows over his face, but his usual smirk was replaced by a look of contemplation. Rosie, sitting across from him, took a delicate sip from her own tankard, her fingers drumming absently on the edge of the table.

“So,” Rosie broke the silence, her voice casual but curious as she cut into a piece of roasted meat. “What do you think? Another job? We’re both still in one piece, so…”

Katsuki looked up, his gaze narrowing for a moment, then relaxed as he swallowed the last of his drink. “Yeah, I guess we should think about the next one,” he muttered.

Rosie leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers against the table as she thought about their next move. She had a certain energy about her that made it clear she was always ready for what came next—whether it was tracking down a band of thieves, hunting down rogue monsters, or, well, whatever weird thing they’d get involved in next.

“Anything in mind?” she asked, glancing over at Katsuki, who now seemed more distracted by his food than the idea of the next mission. 

Katsuki’s expression turned thoughtful as he stared down at his plate, then up at the ceiling. “Well, the city’s been talking about a rise in monster attacks to the east. A few villages around here are getting hit hard, but no one’s been able to figure out what’s causing it,” he said, his tone low, as if weighing the possibility of it. “Could be something big, or maybe it’s just more damn wendigos. Either way, it sounds like there’s work to be done.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Hmm... monsters, you say? You mean like... actual monsters, or are we talking about a whole new batch of crazy cultists, or demons?"

Katsuki snorted, a rare smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Nah, I’m talking about actual monsters. You know, the kind that don’t need a cult to do their dirty work." He paused, leaning forward slightly, his sharp gaze locking with hers. "I think it’s time for something a bit more... exciting."

"We should check the Adventure's Guild to make sure that no one else has taken the job." Rosie hummed as she took a final bite of bread, her voice casual but with an edge of determination. “Can’t have someone else swooping in on our next payday, right?”

Katsuki grunted in agreement, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, better to make sure we’re the ones getting the job first.”

Katsuki, ever the pragmatist, had no interest in wandering around the city at this hour. He preferred a quiet room and a good rest.

“I’m heading back to the room,” he told Rosie as they stood near the entrance to the tavern. His tone was clipped but not unkind. “You should be careful if you're planning to wander around. City’s not as friendly after dark.”

Rosie gave him a half-smile, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you know.” Her words were light, but there was a twinkle in her eyes that spoke of a bit of mischief. “I’m just going to explore a little bit. Enjoy the city. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Katsuki just shook his head, but there was a hint of concern behind his usual smirk. “Don’t do anything stupid. And no getting into trouble with the locals. I mean it.”

She waved him off with a grin. “Yeah, yeah. No promises.”

The night passed, and the quiet streets of the city seemed almost peaceful in the cool evening air. But Rosie’s exploration turned into something less serene. A few drinks at a local tavern, some laughs with strangers, and suddenly she found herself a little tipsier than intended.

By the time she stumbled back to the inn, the evening was blurring, her thoughts a mix of jovial songs and happy drunkenness. She giggled to herself as she fumbled with the door, barely managing to get it open, and then she waddled inside, her laughter echoing in the dimly lit hallway.

Katsuki, however, had just woken up, his senses sharp as usual. He groggily heard her singing off-key before he even saw her. The door creaked open, and there she was—Rosie, barely able to keep herself upright as she hummed a song with her eyes half-lidded. She was tipsy and clearly enjoying herself, despite the haze of inebriation.

“Rosie?” Katsuki’s voice was groggy as he rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what was going on. He sat up in bed, his brow furrowing as she stumbled her way toward him. "What the hell are you doing?"

She barely acknowledged him at first, singing a nonsensical tune as she kicked off her shoes, letting them drop unceremoniously to the floor with a loud thud. Katsuki watched with an eye twitching as she yanked at the laces of her corset, struggling a bit before finally tugging it off with a huff. The sight was ridiculous, and it didn’t help that she was swaying slightly with each movement.

He blinked, still trying to process what was happening. “Are you... drunk?”

Her response came as a half-sung, half-slurred giggle, “Mmm… maybe a little.”

Katsuki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew he’d never hear the end of it if she got herself in trouble tonight. “You really are unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as he slid out of bed.

Rosie finally managed to make her way over to the bed, plopping herself down next to him, her movements a little too uncoordinated. With a soft laugh, she then rolled over onto her back and immediately passed out, sprawled out next to him like a ragdoll.

Katsuki stared down at her, still incredulous at the sight. He let out a long, exasperated breath. “Unbelievable,” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief.

Despite the irritation creeping up his spine, a faint, amused smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back against the headboard. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about anything else tonight.”

Rosie, however, was too far gone to hear him, already lost in the haze of sleep.

As the room grew quiet again, Katsuki couldn’t help but shake his head. “Never a dull moment with you around, huh?”

And with that, he stood from the bed and walked over to the other bed in the room and laid down. He peered at her then rolled over with a sigh.

Chapter Text

Rain poured from a bruised sky, cold and relentless, drumming against leather, stone, and steel like nature’s own war drum. Fog slithered across the soaked earth like a living thing, thick and suffocating, curling around their boots as Rosie and Katsuki stood at the base of the forgotten hillside. Before them loomed the broken silhouette of the Sentinel Castle—a massive structure of blackened stone, forgotten banners, and half-collapsed towers. Its rusted iron gates groaned in the wind, chained closed but barely clinging to their hinges.

Katsuki grumbled under his breath, his soaked cloak dripping and his brow furrowed as he flicked water from his eyes. “This place reeks of mold and undead bullshit,” he muttered. “And I can’t even see three damn feet in front of me.”

Rosie, perched beside him in her black hooded cloak, laughed softly—her cheeks rosy from the cold, her smile as bright as the lightning that cracked somewhere far behind the mountains. “You always complain the moment it starts raining.”

He glared at her. “Because it’s miserable.”

“No, it’s dramatic.” She spun once in place, her cloak swirling like a dancer’s skirt, water flicking off the edges. “Can’t you feel it? The air is thick with magic, old and forgotten. Something ancient is watching. And perhaps even waiting.”

“Yeah,” he deadpanned. “And it’s probably mold.”

She giggled again, walking forward and placing her hand against the icy surface of the gate. The iron groaned under her touch.

He trudged after her, boots squelching in the mud. “Can’t believe we took a job from a half-mad scientist to go artifact hunting in a haunted castle.”

“You’ve dragged me through swamp beasts and cave cults, Katsuki,” she said over her shoulder. “Let me have this one.”

“It’s not even your job that bothers me,” he grumbled. “It’s the whole ‘invisible curse artifact in a place where everyone who enters dies screaming’ part.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Adds to the challenge, don’t you think?”

He shot her a look. “You’re enjoying this.”

She turned, rain dripping from the edge of her hood, her grin entirely too mischievous. “Just a little. I think the rain’s beautiful.”

“It’s a pain in the ass, ” he growled, water dripping from the ends of his bangs.

Rosie walked backwards through the gate’s threshold as it creaked open, her voice teasing and melodic. “Well then, come on, your highness. Let’s take refuge inside the creepy death castle before your hair goes flat.”

He flipped her off with one hand and followed her with the other on his weapon’s hilt, muttering the whole way in case anything tried to jump them. “If I get possessed, I’m blaming the damn weather.”

“You’d still be grumpy even as a ghost,” she said, voice echoing off the high stone walls as they stepped into the darkness together. “Grumpy, but very stylish.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Stylish or not, if this place starts whispering in your head—”

“I’ll whisper back,” she said sweetly, drawing a dagger from her belt. “And stab it if it gets fresh.”

The doors slammed shut behind them with a thunderous clang , echoing through the cavernous entry hall like a death knell. Katsuki turned immediately, trying the handle—locked. Of course. He muttered a curse under his breath. “…Great,” Katsuki muttered.

Rosie tilted her head back, gazing up at the massive, vaulted ceiling. Spiderwebs draped like forgotten curtains across blackened rafters, and dust floated in the air like ash from an ancient fire. Stone statues lined the hall—half eroded, eyeless, watching. “Very cozy,” she whispered, voice reverent. “I’d decorate my house just like this.”

Katsuki shot her a glare. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”

She smiled under the hood of her cloak. “Only the things that matter.”

Their footsteps echoed as they moved forward. Every creak of wood, every gust of wind whispering through the shattered stained glass, felt like a voice just out of earshot. The castle wasn’t dead —not truly. Something pulsed within its bones.

“Stay close,” Katsuki muttered, drawing one of his blades. “And don’t touch anything glowing.”

“No promises,” Rosie replied as she drew a dagger and stepped lightly beside him, her eyes scanning every shadow.

They passed into a long corridor lined with portraits. Each one had been slashed or burned—yet the eyes still seemed to follow them. At the far end, a tall set of double doors stood ajar, candlelight flickering from within.

As they approached, a cold wind hissed through the hallway, blowing the doors open just enough to beckon. Katsuki eyed it with a frown. “It’s always the library.”

Rosie gasped softly. “Do you think they have rare tomes on elven arcana?”

“I think they’ve got enchanted books that’ll try to eat your face.”

“...Still worth checking.”

They stepped inside.

The castle library was enormous—shelves upon shelves climbing three stories high, all in a massive circular room. A grand spiral staircase wound upward through the center. Candles floated, unlit, above their heads, while papers fluttered lazily through the air as if caught in an invisible breeze.

Rosie’s breath caught. “It’s beautiful.”

Katsuki didn’t argue. It was . In a haunted, cursed, definitely-gonna-try-to-kill-you kind of way.

Suddenly, one of the tomes on the nearby desk snapped open. A gust of magic burst outward like a shockwave—sending scrolls flying and toppling a chair. A deep growl echoed from the shadowed corner of the room, something ancient stirring. Rosie reached for the book, wide-eyed.

“ Don’t— ” Katsuki began.

But too late. The moment her fingers brushed the edge of the page, every candle in the room burst alight—illuminating a translucent, shimmering figure standing between them and the staircase. It wore tattered robes, long dead, its eyes like smoking pits. Rosie and Katsuki stood back to back instantly, weapons drawn.

“Can I touch the glowing stuff after we kill the ghost?” Rosie asked.

Katsuki sighed. “Every damn time.”

The ghost screeched, and the room plunged into chaos. The ghost shrieked—a hollow, ancient wail that seemed to pierce their bones—and surged forward, gliding across the floor like a phantom flame. Dust and papers spiraled into the air, and the entire library trembled with its fury.

Katsuki reacted instantly, launching forward with a savage slash of his blade. It passed through the ghost, disrupting its form with a hiss of smoke and light, but didn’t fell it.

“Non-physical,” he gritted through his teeth, backing up toward Rosie. “You need to burn it. Use your light— now! ”

Rosie twisted gracefully, spinning a dagger in her hand as it began to glow with celestial light. “I’m on it!”

She flung the blade toward the ghost, and it let out a high-pitched wail as the magic seared through its form, cutting one of its arms clean off in a burst of holy fire. The candles flared brighter, the ghost’s body becoming more erratic, more dangerous.

But the library wasn't going down without a fight.

Books flew from shelves— hundreds of them—spiraling like blades. Shelves creaked and snapped as magic erupted from the very walls. One exploded behind them, sending Katsuki flying into the railing of the staircase with a heavy grunt.

“Katsuki!” Rosie cried, dodging flying tomes and bolts of stray arcane energy. She ran toward him—but the ground beneath her cracked.

It was a  trap as a magical sigil pulsed under her feet, too fast for her to react. “ Saints! ” she swore—before vanishing in a flash of blue light.

Katsuki surged upright just in time to see the last flicker of her cloak disappear. “ Rosie! ”

He tried to reach her—tried to force the spell back open—but the magic had faded, closed like a door.

Rosie landed hard, tumbling across cold, dusty stone. The room she landed in was dark and cold, lit only by flickering sconces. Her body ached, and her head throbbed from the impact. She groaned and stood slowly, brushing dust off her cloak. “Well... that sucked.”

Then she sneezed, “Ugh—really?” she sniffled, wiping her nose. Another sneeze. “Of all the times…”

Shaking her head, she reached for her weapons, double-checked her pack, and rolled her shoulders. Cold or no cold, she couldn’t afford to waste time. Find Katsuki. Then get out. Then kill the ghost. Or maybe kill the ghost first? she frowned, sniffling again.

She crept forward through the shadowed hallway, her steps light and careful, ears twitching for any sound of movement. The castle whispered around her—creaks, low moans of wind, far-off voices that weren’t hers. But no sign of him yet, still, her heart held fast. She’d find him or he would find her. They always did. And the next time she touched a glowing book? ...Well. She probably still would. But she'd at least warn him first.

Rosie moved quietly through the twisting, dust-choked halls of the cursed estate, her boots nearly silent on the stone floors. The sconces lining the walls flickered ominously, casting warped shadows that danced like spirits just out of reach. Her nose still itched from the chill in the air, and she sneezed again—loudly this time.

“Bless me,” she muttered under her breath with a sniff, gripping the hilt of her dagger tighter.

She pushed open a rotting wooden door and stepped cautiously into a corridor lined with tattered portraits. Most were so faded the faces had vanished entirely, and the eyes of the ones that remained seemed to move when she wasn’t looking.

Her ears twitched. Something skittered causing her to freeze, her pulse quickening, muscles tense. A long moment passed.

SCREEEEEEEE—

A fat, bedraggled rat darted out from a nearby dresser, squeaking loudly and scurrying past her boot.

“ SAINTS! ” she hissed, jumping back with a clatter of her heel. She put a hand to her chest, heart hammering. “Don’t laugh, Katsuki. I know you’d laugh.” 

Then she frowned remembering he wasn’t here. She exhaled slowly, gathering her composure—only for the floor beneath her to lurch forward with a low click . The door behind her slammed shut.

She spun, immediately lunging for the knob—but it wouldn’t budge. “Oh, come on!” she groaned, shoving her shoulder against it. “Not again.”

There were no other doors. The walls were solid. The ceiling moaned ominously overhead, and the only source of light was a small window cracked open on the far side of the room, barely letting in the grey gloom of the storm outside.

“By the saints, this castle is laughing at me.”

With no other choice, she walked to the window, squinted through the foggy panes—and saw the overgrown gardens below. A vast courtyard, consumed by twisted hedges and skeletal trees. It was at least two stories down, the drop steep.

She didn’t hesitate. Pulling her cloak tight around her shoulders, she backed up, braced herself—then sprinted. The glass shattered as she leapt through, jagged shards catching her cloak and hair, slicing lightly into her sleeves and arms as she tumbled into the storm.

She hit the ground hard, mud splattering up her legs and soaking her from the knees down. She groaned, rolling to her side and sitting up, clutching her ribs. “Okay. Not my best escape,” she panted, pulling leaves and broken glass from her cloak.

The storm was worse now—cold rain pouring in sheets, thunder booming across the sky as lightning crackled, illuminating the haunted stone estate. Fog slithered across the courtyard like it was alive, snaking between crumbled statues and overgrown fountains.

Rosie stood, wiped her face, and looked up at the gaping hole in the wall she’d just created. “I really hope that wasn’t part of the structural integrity.”

She looked around, hugging herself as the wind bit at her wet clothes. She was alone, again, in a cursed estate, with no sign of Katsuki and no clue where this damn artifact was. Sinking down onto the edge of a moss-covered stone bench beneath a twisted tree, she tilted her face up to the rain and closed her eyes. “Please…” she whispered, her voice nearly lost to the wind. “Please find me. Or the artifact. Or both. Just... hurry.”

Thunder rumbled low like a growl in the distance. She sniffled, wiping her nose, and pulled her cloak tighter, “…I miss him yelling at me,” she mumbled.

Rain pattered steadily on the overgrown stones as Rosie wandered deeper into the fog-wreathed courtyard, dragging her soaked cloak behind her. Her boots squelched in the mud with every step, and brambles clawed at her pants and sleeves. Still, something in her gut told her to keep going.

A glint of color caught her eye through the thick mist. She turned and approached it, squinting through the curtain of rain.

A ruined fountain stood beneath a gnarled tree—its basin cracked and full of moss, vines choking the base. But behind it, half-hidden beneath ivy and rot, was a wide, ancient mural , carved into the wall of the estate itself.

Rosie stopped in front of it, staring. 

It was chipped and weathered by time, but the etchings were still mostly visible. A family—five figures—stood proudly before a dark tower. A robed man held a glowing object high above his head, surrounded by what looked like rays of light and… dark tendrils?

Her brows furrowed.

At the bottom of the mural, parts of it had been etched with symbols—some she didn’t recognize. Others looked like celestial runes. And faint lines surrounded the mural in a strange pattern—a puzzle of some kind, not unlike the one she and Katsuki had solved in the underground tomb.

Her fingers brushed the center of the carving, the stone warm under her palm despite the storm. The longer she looked at the mural, the more she was sure.

 “This has to be connected to the artifact.” Rosie stepped back, thinking hard.

The puzzle was damaged—and without the full image, she couldn’t solve it out here in the storm. Not without more information.

She let out a long sigh and pushed her wet hair from her face. “I need to get back to the library…”

The mere thought of retracing her steps through this cursed place made her shoulders droop. She was soaked, sneezing, tired, and her legs ached from running and jumping out of damn windows .

“…I really wish I had a map of this damn place,” she grumbled, shivering. “Or a fire. Or a guide. Or—Katsuki yelling about touching cursed murals again.”

She took one last look at the carved puzzle before turning toward the looming manor, its windows like cold eyes watching her through the fog. Still no sign of him. She squared her shoulders and set off again, dragging herself up a narrow side path that led to a broken door near the base of a tower. “Back to the books,” she muttered to herself, voice wavering with the wind. “Let’s hope this creepy library has something useful for once.”

The wind howled down the empty stone hallway, rattling shutters and whispering through cracks in the cursed manor like it was alive. The rain beat steadily against the windows in an unrelenting rhythm, but it was nothing compared to the storm brewing inside Katsuki Bakugo.

SLAM.

Another door shattered off its rusted hinges under his boot, crashing into the floor.

“Dammit!” he barked, storming into the room, scanning the dark space with a predator’s eyes. Empty. Again. Just another moldy parlor with chairs rotted through and a fireplace full of ash.

His hands clenched into fists.

He’d been searching for her for what felt like hours now. Through twisting corridors and cursed rooms that rearranged themselves behind his back. Through trap-laced stairwells, blood-soaked wallpaper, and ceilings that bled ink. And still—no Rosie. Wherever that idiotic, dagger-obsessed elf had gotten herself to, it was somewhere this cursed place didn’t want him to go.

“Tch,” he snarled under his breath, stalking back into the hallway and dragging his fingers through his damp hair.

The castle was toying with him. It wanted to separate them—break them apart. Well, screw that. He stomped up to the next door and kicked it down with a feral growl. “ Rosie! ”

Nothing but echoes answered.

Katsuki stood in the broken doorway, breathing hard, rain-soaked and pissed off—but underneath all of that, tight and coiled in his chest like a fist clenching around his ribs, was concern . Real, genuine, gut-twisting concern.

“Stupid, reckless , gorgeous elf,” he muttered bitterly under his breath, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Always smiling, always touching cursed crap, always gettin’ into trouble like it’s her job…”

But the words came out softer than he expected. Almost fond. Almost… affectionate.

He exhaled sharply and leaned against the cold stone wall. “I swear to every divine thing in this forsaken realm and the next, Rosie, if you jumped out a window again…” He trailed off, because deep down, he knew she probably had .

Katsuki stormed down another cursed hallway, rain dripping from his cloak, boots squelching against the soaked carpet. The castle creaked like it was laughing at him, walls groaning with every frustrated step he took.

Then he felt it. A faint twinge in the air—like a warm current in a cold stream. He stopped dead in his tracks, sharp eyes narrowing. A door slightly ajar, the old hinges groaning. His boots scraped against the stone as he approached it cautiously. The moment he pushed it open, the scent hit him like a punch to the gut. Roses, berries… and rainwater.

Katsuki blinked once, then slowly stepped into the room, every muscle in his body taut. “Rosie?” he said lowly, but there was no answer.

The room was dark and abandoned—save for the shattered window on the far wall, glass scattered like stars across the dusty floor. He walked up to it, rain pattering onto his shoulders through the broken frame, and leaned out. Cold wind slapped his face, fog curling at the edges of the gardens below. But her scent lingered—fresh, wild, familiar. It trailed out into the night like a whisper on the wind.

He swore under his breath.

“You really jumped out a window, didn’t you?” he muttered, running a hand through his wet hair and dragging his fingers roughly down his face.

It wasn’t the first time she’d done something reckless, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

He inhaled deeply, locked onto the scent again, then braced his hands on the stone frame and vaulted out . He landed with a grunt, boots splashing into the muddy garden, the fog so thick it swallowed him almost instantly. Water dripped down his neck, and he scowled, shoulders hunched as he scanned the dim shapes around him.

The trail was faint—but it was there , like a ghost teasing him forward. He followed it past thorny hedges and broken statues, past a crumbling fountain that reeked of mold and rot.

Then, he stopped short.

A mural, on that was carved into one of the garden walls—faint runes, a robed figure, some kind of celestial symbols carved with unnatural precision.

He stared at it. Then sighed hard, “she’s definitely been here.” He looked closer. “Probably touching it, too.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered, “Can’t leave her alone for five damn minutes without her getting fascinated by magical crap.”

Following the trail again, he stopped when he saw a shattered ground floor window, rain pouring through the broken glass into what looked like a study or hallway beyond. Katsuki rolled his eyes heavenward, “…I swear , elf.”

Then he hoisted himself up onto the windowsill, smashed the rest of the glass with a quick elbow, and dropped into the manor once again, soaked and cursing—but getting closer. “She better be in here,” he growled under his breath. “And not making friends with haunted bookcases or cursed paintings.”

Because even though the manor tried to keep them apart, he would always find her. No matter how much she pissed him off. 

Katsuki stepped carefully through the wide archway of the estate’s decaying library, the smell of old paper, dust, and mildew thick in the air. Moonlight barely filtered through the grime-covered windows, casting long shadows across rows of forgotten tomes and broken furniture.

Then he saw her.

Curled over a heavy leather-bound book at one of the reading tables near the hearth, Rosie was hunched forward, arms wrapped around herself as she read, lips moving faintly. Her soaked cloak pooled beneath her like a dark puddle. Her wet hair clung to her neck and shoulders, and she was visibly trembling.

He exhaled softly, the tension in his chest loosening. “Found you, idiot,” he muttered, striding across the creaking floor.

She looked up at the sound of his voice, eyes lighting up in relief. “Katsuki.”

“Don’t ‘Katsuki’ me,” he grumbled, brushing past her and stomping over to the hearth. He knelt down, gathering what dry wood he could scavenge from the broken racks nearby. “You look like a half-drowned rat.”

She gave a faint laugh through her shivers. “Well, I feel like one.”

Flames crackled to life under his skilled hands. Within moments, the warmth began to spread through the cold room, pushing back the chill.

Katsuki stood, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Strip.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Your clothes are soaked. You’ll freeze. Strip and set ‘em near the fire.”

A slow, teasing smile curled across her lips despite her exhaustion. “So forward, Bakugou. If you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just said so.”

He gave her a look . “You’re freezing your ass off and flirting. You’re unbelievable.”

“Charming,” she countered, humming as she rose and turned her back to him with a slight dramatic flair. She peeled off her soaked shirt, then her pants, wringing them out beside the fire before laying them over a chair. Left in only her lacy underthings and a blanket she’d pulled from the shelves, she settled beside him again, curling up with the book and poking at the fire with a rusted iron poker.

Katsuki stripped down to his pants, setting his cloak and clothes near the hearth. He sank down beside her with a grunt, one knee bent as he stared into the flickering flames. Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Rosie rested her chin on her knees, blanket drawn tightly around her shoulders. “You always know how to make a fire,” she said quietly.

“I always find you soaked and in trouble,” he shot back.

She smiled faintly, casting him a glance from the corner of her eye. “But you always find me.”

He didn’t answer right away, just reached out and gave the edge of her blanket a small tug to cover more of her shoulder. “Damn right I do.”

And with the warmth of the fire crackling beside them, and the haunted manor creaking quietly around them, the two sat in comfortable silence.

Rosie tugged the blanket tighter around herself, toes curling near the heat of the fire. Katsuki sat close beside her, arms resting on his bent knees, watching the flames like they’d done something to personally offend him.

“You always frown like that,” she said softly, nudging his shoulder with her own. “It’s like you’re mad at the fire.”

“I’m mad you jumped out a goddamn window.”

“I had no choice!” she defended, her tone full of mock innocence. “The room was sealed, and I’m very delicate, remember?”

He snorted. “You’re about as delicate as the daggers you wield.”

She beamed. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

She bumped him again. “Still taking it as one.”

Katsuki shook his head, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him with the faintest tug of a smirk. He side-eyed her, then finally asked, “Did you find anything?”

Her eyes lit up, almost instantly glowing with excitement. “Yes!” she chirped, suddenly energized despite her still-damp hair and the chill in her bones. She shifted the book onto her lap and pulled out a second journal she’d tucked under her blanket.

“I found an old journal stashed behind a false panel in one of the desks in the study. It belonged to the original owner of this place—or someone close to him. It’s filled with entries about his collection.” She flipped through the aged pages, each one stained with ink and time. “Dozens of cursed artifacts. Weapons, relics, relic-bound spirits… I think they’re all still here.”

Katsuki frowned, glancing around the crumbling room as if the cursed objects were watching them. “What makes you so sure they haven’t been looted or moved?”

She looked up at him, utterly serious now. “Because the mansion won’t let them leave. It’s self-contained. Every trap, every twisting hallway, every illusion we’ve seen—it’s protecting itself. It wants to keep everything right here.”

“…The house itself is a relic,” he muttered, connecting the pieces.

She nodded. “Exactly.”

“Great,” he grumbled, “a sentient deathtrap.”

Rosie didn’t seem fazed at all. “The owner—Lord Elaren—was obsessed with the rare and powerful. Apparently, he hoarded everything with magical significance until he went mad and disappeared. People think he died, but I think…” she trailed off, flipping another few pages.

Katsuki raised a brow. “You think he became part of the house.”

She didn’t deny it. “But,” she added, lips quirking up again, “based on the drawing the client gave us? I think I might’ve found it.”

She flipped to a page near the center of the journal and held it up. The sketch was old, but unmistakable. A dark, crescent-shaped amulet set into a jagged ring of obsidian. Strange runes lined the curve, curling like vines.

Katsuki leaned in, frowning at the image, “this thing’s the artifact?”

She nodded. “The Moonfang . Said to hold the whispers of the void. Bound to a spirit of ancient origin. Super cursed. Probably sentient. Maybe a little bitey.”

He blinked. “Bitey?”

She grinned. “Just a rumor.”

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You always get excited when we’re about to die.”

“I call it morbid enthusiasm ,” she replied proudly.

“…I call it chaotic nonsense .”

“And yet you keep following me,” she teased, tucking the journal against her chest and flashing him a smile that made something twist in his chest.

He looked at her a long moment, then turned back to the fire, muttering, “I’m gonna regret this.”

She just hummed, smug and warm beside him, and whispered, “Too late.”

“We should get some rest,” Katsuki murmured, his voice low and slightly rough from exhaustion.

The fire had settled into a steady crackle, its warmth wrapping around the two of them like a blanket. The storm outside had eased to a gentle patter, rain kissing the windows and stone walls in rhythmic whispers.

Rosie blinked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and warm from the firelight. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice barely above a breath. “You're right.”

He glanced down at her still-damp hair, the way it clung to her cheeks in soft pink strands. Her cheeks were flushed—part from the heat, part from everything they'd been through. With a quiet grunt, Katsuki shifted slightly on the floor, leaning his weight against the back of the dusty old couch behind them.

“Here,” he said, tugging at the edge of the blanket. “Eat something first.”

Rosie blinked, then nodded sleepily. She took the dried fruit and bread from his hand and nibbled, clearly just going through the motions, her mind already drifting into a haze.

He watched her chew slowly, her head starting to tilt. She finished only half of it before her body leaned into his side naturally, like gravity had decided for her. She curled up against him without a word, resting her head against his shoulder, and within seconds, her breathing softened into a slow, steady rhythm.

Katsuki glanced down, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Of course,” he muttered, shifting to drape more of the blanket around her. “Eat half a damn apricot and pass out.”

But his voice lacked heat. Instead, there was a quiet fondness that crept into his expression, a rare softness. He could feel the weight of her against him, hear the little sigh she let out in her sleep, and the way her fingers unconsciously curled into his shirt.

Letting out a sigh of his own, he tilted his head back against the couch, closing his eyes. For now, the haunted mansion was quiet, the shadows behaved, and the artifact would still be there in the morning.

They had survived the night so far, nd for now, she was warm and safe beside him.

He let the silence stretch and settle, allowing the crackle of the fire and her peaceful breathing to lull him, until eventually, Katsuki drifted into sleep as well—his hand resting lightly on her back, as if to keep her tethered there beside him.

It was the soft creak of old wood and the dying hiss of the fire that stirred Katsuki first. His eyes opened slowly to dim, golden light—the fire now little more than glowing embers. Rosie was still curled up against him, but stirring, her nose twitching as she wrinkled it in protest of waking. A few strands of her hair stuck adorably to her cheek, and her arm had slipped around his waist sometime in their sleep.

“Oi,” he murmured, voice still hoarse with sleep. “Time to move.”

Rosie groaned quietly, blinking up at him. “…Five more minutes.”

“You said that the last time,” he grunted, but didn’t move right away. He stared at her face for a beat longer than necessary before sighing and shifting out from under the blanket. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get dressed before this place decides to throw more ghosts at us.”

That got her moving. She sat up with a stretch, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. “Ugh. My back’s killing me,” she muttered, rubbing it as she moved to grab her now-dry clothes from the chair near the hearth.

In a matter of minutes, they were both dressed again—boots laced, weapons holstered. Rosie pulled her hair into a messy braid, then tucked the old journal beneath her arm.

Katsuki fastened the last strap on his gauntlet and glanced over at her. “You taking that thing with you?”

She nodded, patting the journal like it was a sacred relic. “It’s our guide through this place now. I’ve got a hunch about where the artifact might be hidden.”

He quirked a brow. “Oh yeah?”

She gave a small, satisfied smile and started toward the library’s cracked double doors. “The last few pages mention a locked chamber—one even the owner didn’t dare enter. It was sealed magically, meant to guard his most ‘precious possession.’ The description… the location… I think I know where it is.”

Katsuki followed after her, falling into step beside her. “And you just figured that out from your bedtime reading?”

She looked up at him with a smug little shrug. “I’m very efficient under pressure.”

He snorted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. You lead, I’ll follow.”

Rosie’s grin widened as they walked into the cold, creaking hallway. “You always say that, but you keep ending up in front of me during fights.”

“That’s because you’ve got a habit of touching magical crap before we even know what it does.”

“That was one time,” she gasped.

“It was three,” he corrected, smirking.

She gasped again, dramatically offended. “You’re keeping count?”

“Damn right I am.”

Her laughter echoed softly down the long corridor as the fog clung to the cracked windows and the scent of old magic thickened with every step. But now, they weren’t just wandering the haunted halls—they had purpose, a clue, and most importantly…a step closer to getting the fuck out of this haunted place. 

The mansion groaned beneath their feet, the corridors stretching longer than before, as if the very walls disapproved of their progress. Rosie held the journal tight in one hand, flipping back and forth between annotated pages, and Katsuki stalked beside her, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of one of his blades.

According to the journal, the artifact lay behind a sealed chamber known only as “The Heart.” It was a vault of arcane traps and trials, locked away behind centuries of old magic and paranoia.

Now, they were standing before the first of those trials. A towering stone door loomed in front of them, covered in an array of rotating circular plates. Each plate bore strange glyphs—some elven, others arcane, and a few written in languages Rosie didn’t recognize. At the center, a small triangular depression pulsed faintly.

“Puzzle number one,” Rosie whispered, eyes lighting up as she approached. “A multi-layered rotation lock. It’s based on moon phases.”

Katsuki squinted at it. “Can’t we just blow it open?”

She gave him a look. “Sure. If you want the entire mansion to collapse and take the artifact with it.”

He grunted, backing off. “Fine. Do your thing.”

Rosie smirked and got to work. With careful precision, she turned each plate to align the phases of the moon with the corresponding glyphs from the journal. As each ring clicked into place, the triangular recess in the center began to glow brighter. Finally, she pulled a small silver triangle from her pouch—something she had found tucked in the pages of the journal—and slid it into the depression.

The door shuddered, groaned… and slowly split open with a hiss of stale air. They stepped into the next chamber: a wide, vaulted room filled with towering statues of armored knights, each holding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. At the far end was another door, but between them and it was a black-and-white checkered floor.

“Trap,” Katsuki muttered.

Rosie nodded. “The journal called this the ‘Knights’ Game.’ We’re supposed to cross by stepping only on the correct tiles, or…” She glanced to the side, where the shattered remains of a skeleton lay sprawled across the tiles with rusted dried blood. “…bad things happen.”

Katsuki grimaced. “Perfect.”

She pulled out a folded parchment she’d copied earlier and compared it to the statue placements. “Each knight’s gaze points to a path of safety, but some are illusions meant to mislead. We need to follow the ones whose swords are held down and their shields raised. That means they’re in ‘defense mode.’ The others will lead us straight into a trap.”

With painstaking care, they followed the path across the floor—testing each tile, double-checking the angles of the statues’ weapons. At one point, Katsuki nearly stepped on the wrong square, only for Rosie to yank his cloak and hiss, “Left foot, not right!”

He grumbled something about “over-engineered death mazes,” but followed her lead. 

Eventually, they reached the other side, and the second door opened to reveal the third and final trial. This time, they entered a narrow room filled with dozens of suspended, levitating books, slowly rotating in mid-air. At the center stood a pedestal with a golden hourglass sealed in glass.

“The Time Room,” Rosie breathed, reading from the journal. “Only the one who answers the Riddle of Time can pass. If we’re wrong… we get locked in here forever.”

“Great,” Katsuki said. “Do I get to punch time if it pisses me off?”

Rosie chuckled, then approached the pedestal. A faint voice echoed through the chamber, ancient and feminine: “I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?”

Rosie tilted her head, murmuring the riddle under her breath. “Speak without a mouth… hear without ears… wind…” Her eyes brightened. “An echo.”

The room went still. Then the hourglass shimmered and shattered—dissolving into dust. A hidden door behind the pedestal creaked open.

Katsuki blinked. “That was actually impressive.”

Rosie shot him a grin over her shoulder. “I have my moments.”

The moment they stepped through the final door, the temperature dropped like a stone. The chamber was circular, lined with walls of blackened stone and silver-veined marble that shimmered faintly in the flickering torchlight. At the very center, raised atop a dais of jagged crystal, hovered the artifact—an obsidian sphere encased in sharp, vine-like tendrils of metal, pulsing with dark light. It radiated ancient, malevolent magic that seemed to breathe in the silence.

Rosie stopped just past the threshold.

Something wasn’t right.

A slow, sickening presence coiled around her senses—an oppressive weight pressing against her chest and making her breath shallow. Her hands began to tremble. The magic wasn’t just dark—it was conscious. Watching and waiting.

She took a shaky step back, her eyes fixed on the sphere. “Katsuki…” she whispered. “Something’s wrong. I—I think it’s alive.”

Katsuki didn’t reply immediately. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, his instincts prickling. “Tch. No traps this time,” he muttered, though his tone said otherwise. “That thing is the trap.”

A slow creaking sound echoed around the room, and then the shadows on the walls began to peel away—taking shape. Formless figures, hollow-eyed and skeletal, their limbs dragging unnaturally behind them as they slithered down from the ceiling like dying spirits. Their mouths didn’t move, but the voices filled the air, echoing in whispers: “The price must be paid.”

Rosie’s pulse thundered in her ears. Her feet refused to move. Her thoughts raced. She’d faced monsters, goblins, witches, orcs—but this was different. This wasn’t something she could outmatch with speed or clever traps or quick wit. This was fear itself.

Katsuki noticed her panic before she even realized it herself. She stood frozen beside him, her hands clenched tight, eyes wide, ears trembling. He took a step toward her, lowering his voice just enough that only she could hear him. “Hey. Rosie.”

She blinked up at him.

He smirked—soft, crooked, familiar. “You’re not seriously scared of a couple of goth fog ghosts, are you?”

She exhaled a shaky laugh. “They’re not fog ghosts. They’re ancient soul wards twisted by the artifact’s influence.”

“Oh, excuse me, princess murderpedia. Still just spooky smoke to me.” He tapped her chin lightly with two fingers. “Come on. You’ve taken down covens and cave trolls. You gonna let some clingy magical fog make you piss your pants?”

She cracked a smile, weak but real. “No…”

“Didn’t think so.” He leaned in a little, just enough for his breath to brush her cheek. “Besides. I’m right here. And you’re too damn pretty to die alone.”

That finally earned him a soft laugh—and a blush that crept up her neck to her pointed ears.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Dead serious,” he replied. “Stick close. If this thing wants a price, it can deal with both of us.”

The whispers swelled. The shadows closed in. But Rosie’s fear had dulled, chased off by his presence—the confidence in his stance, the smirk in his voice, and the warmth that always hid under his growling sarcasm.

The moment they stepped closer to the artifact, the soul wards shrieked—high, inhuman screeches that scraped against bone and will. Their twisted forms lunged with jagged claws, and the entire chamber seemed to shutter with their rage.

Rosie reacted first. She spun, daggers flashing silver as she cut through the nearest wraith, but her blade passed through it like smoke. “They’re not physical!” she warned, backing into Katsuki’s side.

“Yeah, no shit!” he snapped, sweeping his blade in a wide arc to keep the spirits at bay. “We’re not fighting bodies—we’re fighting curses!”

As if to prove the point, one of the shadow-creatures darted around them with impossible speed, slashing at Rosie’s side. Claws raked through her attire and across her ribs. She cried out, stumbling, blood blooming along her waist.

Katsuki turned in a blink—face darkening. “ Rosie! ”

She hissed in pain and lifted a hand toward the creeping shadows. The air shimmered—and then ignited in a flare of radiant gold as a sigil bloomed at her palm.

“Enough,” she growled, eyes glowing like twin stars.

Light burst outward from her like an explosion of dawn, searing through the fog and shadows. The soul wards shrieked, reeling back as the light pierced their formless bodies. For a brief moment, the chamber was bathed in warmth, and Katsuki saw them clearly—twisted remnants of people long-dead, clinging to the curse like anchors.

Rosie stood tall in the center of it, her soaked hair wild, blood on her ribs, cloak torn—yet radiant in power.

“Light magic,” Katsuki muttered, awe and pride warring in his voice. “Showoff.”

She grinned despite her pain. “We need to drive them back from the artifact!”

He nodded once. “I’ll clear the path—blast anything that gets close.”

Katsuki took off like a storm. With his sword in one hand and his hand crackling with a dim, controlled ignition, he carved a path forward. His explosions were quieter than usual—focused. He wasn’t trying to level the building. He was protecting her, allowing Rosie to follow him, light gathering around her wrists like radiant chains.

One of the soul wards lunged at Katsuki’s back. Rosie’s dagger flew like a bolt of light, spearing it mid-lunge, and the creature wailed as it dissipated into smoke.

“You’re late,” Katsuki called.

“ You’re welcome, ” Rosie shot back.

A shadow rose behind her—taller than the rest, shaped like a noble in a long coat with hollow eyes and jagged teeth. Its claws reached—but she turned just in time, light flooding from her chest like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds. The spirit staggered.

Katsuki leapt in, slashing through the vulnerable core of the stunned ward. It vanished in a howl of smoke. They moved in tandem now—him breaking through, her covering his blind spots with bursts of light and gleaming daggers. Their movements were seamless, the bond between them sharpened by fire and trial.

Rosie winced but refused to stop, Katsuki bled from his forearm but never slowed, as they reached the dais.

The artifact pulsed—angry, aware.

Rosie looked up at him, breathless. “You ready?”

Katsuki raised a brow, already coated in ash and sweat. “You’re asking me ?”

She smirked. “We are partners.”

The moment Rosie and Katsuki stepped onto the dais, the obsidian sphere shuddered in its cradle of metal vines. It pulsed once —twice— and then an invisible shockwave rolled through the room.

Everything fell silent.

Rosie froze. The magic in the chamber grew thick, like a cold fog creeping into her lungs. Her skin prickled, her light magic instinctively flaring at her fingertips in response. Katsuki stood next to her, his hands humming softly with restrained power. 

His eyes, always sharp, never left the artifact. "It's waiting for something," he muttered.

Rosie nodded slowly. "A price. It wants something in return."

The sphere pulsed again, and darkness spilled outward, coiling into twin arcs that slithered toward each of them. Katsuki tensed, sword raised, but the darkness didn’t attack. It hovered just inches from their chests… and then pierced her with shadowy daggers.

They weren’t in the chamber anymore.

Rosie stood alone in a vast glade of starlight and golden grass. The world shimmered with warmth, the air rich with the scent of blooming lilacs, fresh bread, and the lingering perfume of home. A spring breeze stirred the edges of her cloak, tugging at her like a child pleading to be held.

And then—there she was.

Her mother.

She stood just a few feet away, tall and statuesque, her ethereal beauty as timeless as Rosie remembered. Silks of pale green and soft pink clung to her graceful figure, glistening with embroidered jewels. Her long, soft pink hair flowed down her back like a waterfall of cherry blossoms, her bright green eyes shimmering like emeralds beneath the moonlight. She looked like a dream, like a goddess—like everything Rosie never thought she could be.

"You’ve come back," her mother said, her voice lilting with the gentleness of lullabies long forgotten.

Rosie’s breath hitched. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. She stepped forward, uncertain. "You’re... back in Silven."

Her mother’s smile deepened. "And yet I’m here. You’ve wandered long enough, child. Let go of the blood and the blades. Come home. Be my daughter again. You don’t have to live amongst those humans anymore. Come and take your rightful place as princess."

Rosie felt small beneath her mother’s gaze. The weight of the years between them— of aching loneliness —thudded heavy in her chest. Her hands trembled.

"You know I can’t do that," she said quietly, though her voice wavered.

Her mother’s expression softened. She took a step closer. "Your father is ill. He may not last the season. It’s time for you to return. Gaeryndam’s coronation is nearing. You are to be home, Rosie. Please... I beg of you."

The words stunned her.

Her mother never begged. She was prideful to a fault. Regal and commanding and cold. To see her now, lowered in tone and desperate, made Rosie’s chest squeeze with guilt and confusion.

Tears burned in her eyes. The grass was too soft, the stars too close. Everything in this illusion felt like a warm cocoon ready to pull her under.

"You don’t care for me," she whispered. "You have sold me off and for what?"

Her mother reached out. "I did what I had to. Everything was for the good of the realm. But now... now I need you to come home. Your people need you."

Back in the chamber, Rosie dropped to her knees, her eyes wide and blank, light magic flickering weakly at her fingertips. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, caught between two worlds—the illusion and reality.

She felt like a child again.

But then a voice—real, familiar, grounding—cut through the fog. Katsuki’s. "Don’t you dare, Rosie."

She gasped, her head jerking slightly. The illusion shimmered at the edges, all of it doing fuzzy.

"I’m not done with you yet," his voice echoed in the darkness. "Get up."

Rosie grit her teeth, blinking rapidly. Her gaze locked with her mother’s. So perfect and beautiful like last she saw her.

Her breath trembled. "You’re not real. My mother would never beg... It’s beneath her nor would she ever explain herself."

Cracks began to ripple across the glade like fractures in glass.

"She never gave me a choice. But I made one. And I choose me ."

The illusion shattered with a soundless scream, glass and starlight breaking apart, scattering into nothing. Rosie was back in the chamber. Her eyes blinked open, dazed. Her vision swam until it focused on Katsuki crouched before her, his strong hand cupping her face, searching her eyes with fierce urgency. "Rosie," he rasped, his voice low and rough. "You with me?"

She gave a shaky nod. "Yeah… I'm fine."

He didn’t move, didn’t speak. His thumb brushed her cheekbone as if trying to anchor her.

She exhaled slowly. "Let’s grab the damn artifact and get out of here before I touch something else cursed."

Katsuki grunted in agreement, helping her to her feet.

Once they retrieved the artifact, the two made their way back through the twisting halls of the sentient castle. Rain still poured outside, thick fog curling like claws around the shattered gates. Thunder cracked overhead as they stepped into the night, the castle groaning one final time behind them.

Katsuki adjusted the pack on his shoulder and glanced sideways at her. "You good?"

Rosie sighed, her voice soft but steady. "Yeah. Just… really ready to eat."

He snorted. "Figures. Let’s get you fed before the next haunted ruin tries to adopt you."

They vanished down the muddy path, the relic in hand and the rain washing away the lingering weight of the illusions she had escaped.

Chapter Text

Katsuki crouched low behind a crumbled wall, watching as Rosie ascended the outer wall of the fortress with fluid grace. Her movements were swift and soundless, each motion purposeful—practiced. With the moonlight bathing her in a pale glow, she looked more like a wraith than a warrior, her pale limbs blending with the shadows and her long pink hair tied up tight, tucked out of the way.

She reached the top with ease, slipping over the ledge like a whisper in the wind. He watched her approach the first guard, her body low, footsteps unheard despite her wearing heeled boots. The man didn’t even turn before she was on him—one hand covering his mouth, the other sliding her dagger cleanly across his throat. She lowered him carefully to the ground, pausing only to check for noise before moving on. One by one, the perimeter guards fell to her blades, each kill as precise and silent as the last.

Katsuki had heard stories of elves, but to see a high elf that excelled in killing and assassinations, to watch as she moved like a ghost and killed like a demon was another thing entirely. Her speed, her control, the eerie calm in her execution—it was lethal artistry. She had explained to him that she had survived the last two years on her own by taking only jobs that suited her abilities, only infiltration and assassination jobs. Rarely did she take jobs other than that before they had met. She made use of every innate advantage her race had gifted her—agility, silence, grace—and turned them into weapons sharper than any blade.

By the time he caught up to the outer gate, it was already swinging open on quiet hinges. Rosie stood there, framed by the torchlight from the courtyard, drenched in blood but grinning from ear to ear. She looked radiant, despite the gore—adrenaline bright in her eyes, cheeks flushed with exertion.

“I took out the guards here too,” she said cheerily, gesturing behind her.

Katsuki stepped through the gate, eyeing the courtyard where ten guards lay scattered in their final poses—some still clutching weapons they never got to raise, others slumped against the walls or splayed across cobblestones slick with blood.

She pinned up a loose strand of her hair, her pink braid now spotted with crimson, then turned to him again. “Easy enough,” she added with a small shrug, like she hadn’t just murdered two dozen men in under ten minutes.

He grunted, “Good job.”

That was all he said, but it was enough. Her cheeks pinkened immediately, blooming with warmth that wasn’t from the fight. Her pointed ears twitched—a telltale sign he’d noticed early on. She always did that when he praised her. No matter how covered in blood she was, no matter how many lives she took, Rosie still got flustered when he gave her a genuine compliment.

She tried to play it cool, straightening her spine and dusting off her tunic, but he could see the little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “What’s next?” she asked, voice a little softer now.

Katsuki’s eyes lifted toward the inner keep. Lights flickered in the tower windows above—likely where their target was being held. “We clear the lower levels, take out whoever’s left, and find the prisoner. Quiet, if we can.”

Rosie nodded, rolling her shoulders. “Lead the way, Katsuki.”

They moved through the outer halls like a current of silent tension and sharpened instincts. Katsuki didn’t miss how seamlessly their steps aligned—how Rosie always seemed to drift just wide of his path, covering angles he hadn’t even voiced. For a team that had only been traveling together for a few weeks, it was uncanny. They barely spoke during missions anymore, and they didn’t need to. She always knew when he was going to rush a target or when he needed cover. He, in turn, could feel the shift in the air when she slipped into a flanking position or when she was ready to strike.

It wasn’t strategy. It was instinct. They complimented each other in every skirmish—his explosive, head-on aggression balanced by her lethal subtlety. He’d break down the front gate with a roar if needed; she’d already have slit the commander’s throat before the enemy even turned to face him. A single look was often enough. Sometimes, not even that.

As they descended into the lower levels of the fortress—crumbling stone stairs lit only by sparse wall sconces—he came to a stop. The hallway ahead forked into two darkened corridors, each branching deeper into the fortress’s underbelly.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” he said, scanning ahead.

Rosie was already nodding, adjusting her grip on her blade. “I’ll take the left.”

Before he could respond, she was gone. Not a sound. Not a whisper of cloth or a breath of air. She melted into the shadows like fog into a forest. And even with his advanced hearing—sharp enough to pick out footsteps in a thunderstorm—Katsuki couldn’t track her. She was simply gone.

He let out a faint huff through his nose, both impressed and mildly irritated. It never failed to bother him just how good she was at disappearing. Still, he trusted her. If there were enemies in that hall, they'd be dead within moments.

He turned toward the right corridor and moved forward, boots rolling on the edges of his feet to reduce noise. His palm stayed open and ready, fingers curled faintly as the building heat along his gauntlet thrummed in quiet warning. The walls here were damp, built low and tight with old stone. The deeper he went, the more he could smell the iron tang of blood. Prison chambers.

A shadow stirred near the far end—two guards lingering near a heavy wooden door. They hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on arguing over something in hushed, irritated tones.

Good.

With a low inhale, he pressed himself to the wall, then surged forward with the speed and precision of a beast unleashed. The first guard didn’t even have time to raise his weapon—Katsuki grabbed him by the collar and slammed his head against the stone hard enough to send him crumpling. The second shouted in panic, but before he could run, a palm ignited under his ribs.

Boom.

The explosion was muffled, aimed downward to reduce the sound, but the force sent the man crashing into the wall in a heap. Katsuki dragged both bodies into a shadowed alcove and checked the door. Locked. He raised a hand, charging a focused blast—when the lock suddenly clicked open from the other side. He froze.

Rosie peeked out, blinking up at him with a smirk. “Oh. I thought you were taking the right corridor.”

Katsuki blinked, scowling faintly. “I did.”

She only grinned, stepping aside to let him in. “Well, I cleared both. Prisoner’s not here, though. Looks like just guard quarters and holding cells. Might be deeper down.”

He gave her a long look. “You cleared both sides of the floor?”

She just offered a mock-curtsy, blood still dripping off the curve of her dagger.

“Tch,” he muttered, brushing past her. “Show-off.”

But there was no bite in his voice. If anything, there was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, gone before she could confirm it.

The air grew colder the deeper they descended. The stone turned slick with moss, and the torches became sparse, leaving large stretches of the corridor swallowed in darkness.

Katsuki kept his steps steady, eyes sharp. Rosie moved just ahead of him, her frame low and poised, her daggers held in a relaxed grip—ready to snap to motion in a heartbeat. Neither spoke. They didn’t need to. The tension in the walls, the stillness in the air—something was coming.

He felt it before it happened. That shift. That tightening in his gut that always warned him a fight was about to break. A blade flew from the left—a flash of steel aiming for Rosie’s side. She ducked before it reached her.

Katsuki reacted in the same breath, pivoting as another attacker lunged from the shadows toward him. His palm flared with light, and he blasted the man back before the ambusher ever laid hands on him.

More shadows moved.

An ambush.

Seven—no, eight of them. Blending with the dark, faces covered, trained assassins from the look of it. Silent, quick, coordinated. But not enough.

Not them.

Rosie was already moving, weaving through the chaos like smoke. Her blades danced, carving sharp silver arcs as she twisted between the first two attackers. Blood sprayed across the walls, and her foot connected with the third one’s knee, sending him toppling into a fourth who rushed to help.

Katsuki slammed into another, driving him into the opposite wall, then unleashed a point-blank explosion to knock out two more coming in behind him. He didn’t have to look to know Rosie had his back. He could feel her there—like gravity. Every time he moved, she filled the space behind him. When she ducked to avoid a strike, he stepped in to take the next hit.

It was instinct. It was seamless.

One tried to flank her—Katsuki grabbed the attacker by the collar and yanked him back into his knee, then shoved him straight into Rosie’s waiting dagger. She didn’t even glance to confirm who it was—just turned and slit the man’s throat, then pivoted back to meet the next assailant. They moved like a single, furious storm.

“You good?” he barked, parrying a spear with a gauntlet blast.

Rosie didn’t answer with words. She flipped forward over an enemy, landing behind him and slitting his hamstrings before finishing him off with a brutal stab to the spine. Her blood-slicked face turned toward Katsuki with a wicked, breathless grin.

“Fantastic.”

Katsuki let out a sharp, half-laugh—surprised by the rush of pride that welled up in him watching her fight.

The last two enemies hesitated, realizing too late that this wasn’t just some infiltration. They weren’t dealing with a bruiser and a rogue.

They were up against a pair of predators—one thunder, one shadow.

Katsuki raised a hand, energy burning white-hot in his palm. “Don’t bother running.”

BOOM.

When the smoke cleared, the corridor was littered with scorched stone, mangled corpses, and the sharp tang of iron in the air. Rosie stood beside him, panting lightly, wiping her daggers on the hem of one dead man’s cloak. She looked up at him with flushed cheeks, her chest rising and falling with adrenaline.

“You alright?” he asked, eyes still scanning for movement.

“Mmhm,” she hummed, sliding her blade back into its sheath. “You?”

“Please,” he scoffed. “Took more effort not to laugh at their footwork.”

That made her snort. “You’re such an ass.”

But she smiled—those warm eyes crinkling with something soft beneath the blood and exhaustion. They stood there for a beat, surrounded by the dead, bathed in quiet, and feeling more alive than either of them would admit.

Katsuki finally broke the silence, nodding toward the staircase at the far end of the hall. “Target’s probably down there. You ready?”

Rosie rolled her shoulders and fell into step beside him. “After you, partner.”

The stairwell spiraled into the earth like a throat, winding deeper and deeper until the air grew heavy with damp and magic. The final chamber awaited at the bottom—massive stone doors carved with worn, ancient runes.

Katsuki stepped forward first, pressing his palm against the cold stone. The moment he did, the doors groaned open on their own, revealing a long, torch-lit hall with a vaulted ceiling and intricate tile mosaics lining the floor. Chains hung from the rafters. A single pedestal stood at the far end of the room.

“Too easy,” he muttered.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them with a thundering boom, stone sliding back into place like a tomb sealing itself.

Rosie whirled around. “Nope. Not ominous at all.”

A grinding sound echoed from the walls. Suddenly, the floor beneath them shifted—stone tiles grinding apart to reveal vents beneath, expelling faint jets of steam. The room began to heat up. Fast.

“Ah, perfect,” Rosie groaned. “A trap room. Classic.”

Katsuki scowled and turned toward the pedestal. It held a carved stone orb, and surrounding it were four rotating rings covered in runes. A puzzle lock.

Of course.

“Figures they'd make the last leg of this job a damn sauna,” he grumbled, stepping up to inspect the puzzle.

Rosie joined him, already squinting at the runes. “Language is Elvish-Sylric. Some of these characters are backwards, though. It’s probably mirrored.”

“I got this side,” Katsuki said, already rotating the outer ring with one hand while eyeing the central alignment. “Top ring’s got heat runes. If we match the sequence wrong, it’ll fry us.”

“Great! Motivated solving. Love that.” Rosie adjusted the second ring, her fingers quick and precise. “Line up the fire glyph with the inverted wind symbol. It should cool the sequence to buy us time.”

They worked fast, sweat already forming at their brows as the vents hissed louder. The room felt like a forge, and the walls were definitely closing in, inch by inch.

“Third ring should match the elemental cycle,” Katsuki muttered, glancing at Rosie. “Fire, air, earth—what’s missing?”

“Water!” she snapped, reaching for the last ring and spinning it to the appropriate glyph. “Turn it now!”

Katsuki slammed his hand down on the orb.

For a second, nothing happened.Then the pedestal sank into the floor with a heavy click, and the doors creaked open, letting in a rush of cool air. The vents shut down. The walls stopped moving. They both let out a simultaneous breath and slumped against the doorframe as it opened fully to a long, empty corridor leading to the surface.

Rosie groaned dramatically, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can’t wait to take a bath.”

Katsuki snorted, glancing at her with raised brows. “You always get this whiny after a job?”

“I am not whiny,” she said with a pout, tugging at her blood-soaked sleeve. “I’m just gross, sticky, tired—and I smell like iron and sewer moss.”

“Yeah, you do stink,” he teased, smirking.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not exactly a bouquet of roses yourself.”

He rolled his eyes but ruffled her pink hair affectionately. “We’ll stay at an inn tonight. Get a room with a bath. Maybe even two.”

The way her face lit up was immediate.

She squealed and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank youuu! I knew I kept you around for a reason!”

He patted her head with a groan. “You’re getting blood on me.”

She giggled against his shoulder. “Please. You look hot covered in blood.”

He gave her a look. “That’s the most deranged compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

“What? It’s true.” She pulled back just enough to grin at him. “Makes you look all dangerous and feral. Very intimidating. Totally my type.”

Katsuki raised a brow. “Your type is dangerous and feral?”

“Well, you, specifically,” she said, poking his chest with a bloodied finger. “Don’t go getting jealous.”

“Tch. As if I would.” He looked away, ears just faintly pink.

She bumped her shoulder against his, still grinning. “Come on. Let’s go find that inn before I decide to fall asleep standing up.”

He gave her a sideways glance and finally allowed a small smirk. “Fine. But you’re buying dinner.”

“Deal,” she said brightly. “As long as there’s dessert. And not just metaphorical dessert.”

“…What the hell does that even mean?”

She winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

And with that, she skipped ahead, leaving him behind with a muttered curse and a faint, traitorous smile tugging at his lips as he followed.The final corridor narrowed, the air growing heavier with each step. The walls pulsed faintly with old enchantments, and the floor beneath their boots had shifted to dark, polished stone—untouched by time or nature. It felt… ancient.

Rosie glanced at Katsuki as they reached the final archway. “Ready?”

“Let’s just grab the damn thing and go,” he muttered.

They stepped into the last room. It was cavernous and perfectly circular, lined with glowing runes that pulsed with a soft blue light. In the center stood a lone pedestal made of obsidian, and atop it sat a relic unlike anything they’d ever seen. A crystalline sphere floated just above the stone, suspended in a slow, silent spin. Within it shimmered a swirl of silver mist and embers of red flame, like it was alive.

Rosie’s eyes widened. “That’s gotta be it.”

Katsuki nodded, wary. “Trap?”

“Almost definitely.”

They circled it carefully, checking the floor, the ceiling, the walls—but nothing moved. No pressure plates, no glyphs waiting to explode. The room was deathly still.

Rosie bit her lip. “Well, here goes nothing.”

Before Katsuki could stop her, she reached forward and snatched the relic from the pedestal. The moment her fingers closed around it, the glow in the room snapped to red. The rune light dimmed and shifted. The very air seemed to recoil.

Then came the voice—low and guttural, echoing from every direction.

“Thieves.” A figure materialized from the shadows. Massive, armored in cracked obsidian plates, and carrying a double-headed axe the size of a cart wheel. His skin was ashen, his eyes glowing coals. The runes across his chest pulsed like heartbeats. He stepped forward, dragging the axe behind him with a deafening scrape.“You will not leave with my property.”

Rosie backed up slowly, clutching the relic to her chest. “We really need to start checking for ghost guardians before I touch things.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Katsuki growled. “I’ll draw his attention. Don’t get flattened.”

The guardian charged with a roar, the ground shaking beneath his feet. Katsuki met him head-on with an explosion, knocking the axe blow off-course. The shockwave sent dust flying as he rolled aside, landing in a crouch.

“His armor’s enchanted!” Rosie called out, weaving behind the guardian. “Normal steel won’t cut it!”

“Good thing I don’t use normal,” Katsuki snapped back.

Rosie lunged in, her daggers flashing. She aimed for the joints—the backs of the knees, under the arms—moving too fast for the guardian to track. Sparks flew as her blades glanced off the obsidian plates, but she managed to draw blood with a slash to the exposed side of his neck.

The guardian howled and spun, swinging the massive axe in a wide arc. Katsuki vaulted up and over the blade, landing behind him just as Rosie dove forward.

“Now!” she shouted.

Katsuki’s palms slammed into the guardian’s back, the explosion timed perfectly with Rosie’s lunge. The twin impact sent the giant stumbling forward, off-balance.

“Go for the core rune!” Rosie yelled.

Katsuki moved in, eyes locking onto the pulsing glyph at the center of the guardian’s chest. He cocked his fist back, heat building into a white-hot glow. “Die already, you oversized corpse.”

BOOM.

The blast hit dead-on. The guardian reeled back, chest exploding in a flash of molten energy and shattered stone. He staggered, letting out one final, pained groan before collapsing to his knees. Rosie rushed forward, leapt up, and drove both daggers into his throat with a snarl. The guardian fell, lifeless at last, the glow in his eyes flickering out as his body crumbled into obsidian dust.

For a long moment, the room was silent. No more traps. No more magic. Just two panting warriors standing amidst the remnants of an ancient battle.

Rosie turned to Katsuki, still clutching the relic, her pink braid loose and her face smudged with ash and blood. “I’m never touching glowing things again.”

Katsuki chuckled, dragging a hand down his face. “Sure you aren’t.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, maybe just… a few more times.”

He rolled his eyes but reached over to brush some dust off her cheek. “You good?”

She nodded, smiling tiredly. “Better now.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here.”

Rosie tucked the relic into her satchel, sighing dramatically. “Still holding you to that bath.”

“And the inn,” he muttered.

Her eyes sparkled. “And maybe dessert?”

“Just get moving before I change my mind.”

The inn they found just outside the fortress ruins was small, quiet, and blessedly warm. Nestled on a forested ridge, it smelled of woodsmoke, old ale, and lavender—charmingly run-down but clean. A sleepy innkeeper handed them a key with barely a glance, waving them toward the back where a private room with a claw-footed bath awaited.

Rosie all but collapsed into one of the chairs by the hearth as soon as the door shut behind them. She groaned like a dying animal. “I might sleep here. On the floor. Right now.”

Katsuki snorted, tossing his pack into the corner. “You’re not sleeping until you wash the sewer stink off.”

“I’m mostly blood,” she offered, inspecting the dried crimson that flecked her arms and the tear in her trousers.

“Exactly.”

While Rosie filled the bath, humming under her breath, Katsuki went down to the tavern and returned minutes later with food: two platters piled high with meat and roasted vegetables, a loaf of crusty bread, and a bottle of dark wine he didn’t bother to ask the name of.

By the time Rosie emerged from the washroom—hair damp and loose, skin pink from scrubbing—he was already halfway into his plate. She dropped into the chair across from him, her eyes practically glowing as she reached for a chicken leg.

“You are the best partner ever,” she moaned with her mouth full. “Is this—mm—is this venison?”

“Maybe. Dunno.” He chewed and watched her with amusement as she inhaled the food. “You always eat like a starving animal?”

“I kill like a shadow, flirt like a bard, and eat like a barbarian. I’m well-rounded,” she said, flashing a cheeky smile as she poured herself a glass of wine.

Katsuki huffed but didn’t respond. That was how she always was—sharp-tongued and teasing. He didn’t put weight behind her flirtations. Elves were known for that. Words were their blades, wielded with skill and purpose. You didn’t take every poetic quip or honey-laced compliment as truth. It was a game. One she played well. Still… she was charming. And warm in a way that disarmed him, even when he tried not to let it.

Rosie leaned her cheek on her hand and gazed at him over the rim of her goblet. “You’ve been less growly today. Did the near-death experience make you sentimental?”

“Or maybe watching you flirt with every blade and trap we passed made me numb,” he said dryly.

She laughed, tipping her head back. “I can’t help it. I’m expressive. It’s part of my nature.”

Katsuki wiped his mouth and leaned back. “Yeah, so is stabbing people.”

“I’m multi-talented.” She sipped her wine, studying him. “But for real… you were incredible back there. You always are.”

He raised a brow. “You flirting again, or are you actually impressed?”

“Can’t it be both?” She smiled coyly.

Katsuki only rolled his eyes and reached for the bottle, pouring himself another drink. “Don’t waste your breath, elf. I’m not stupid. I know how your kind use words.”

That gave her pause. For a moment, she didn’t reply—just swirled her wine and looked into the fire. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. “You think I’m playing with you?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw ticked. “I think you like playing with everyone,” he said finally. “Doesn’t mean it’s real.”

Rosie looked at him then—really looked. Some of the mischief in her expression faded. “You’re not wrong. I grew up in courts where every smile had a dagger behind it. It’s how we survive. But I don’t lie when I say I like you. I have never had a friend before.”

Katsuki met her eyes. “Yeah? Then stop hiding behind pretty words and show me.”

She blinked—then smiled. Not a flirty grin. A real one. Small. Honest. “Okay,” she said, and reached over to steal a piece of meat off his plate.

He didn’t swat her hand away. They sat in a companionable silence for a while after that, the tension softening between them. The wine warmed their blood, and the fire crackled low. Eventually, Rosie stretched her legs out, yawning and leaning her head against the back of the chair.

“You still want the bed?” she asked sleepily. “Or are we fighting for it?”

Katsuki finished his wine and stood, moving to throw another log on the fire. “You get the bed.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He shrugged. “You took the relic. You earned it.”

She watched him for a moment, her voice a soft lilt. “You’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be.”

Katsuki glanced back at her, one brow raised. “And you’re not as annoying as you pretend to be.”

That made her giggle.“Night, Katsuki.”

He took the floor with his back to the fire, and she curled up on the bed, still smiling faintly. For all the banter and walls they’d built, something had shifted. Just a little.

But it was enough to strength their bond as partners.

After returning the relic to the client, they have picked up their next mission which was a simple goblin's nest that had taken to attacking the nearby villages every two nights. Nasty little creatures that attacked in the dark of night, killing the men and children and taking the woman back to their dens and lairs underground and breeding them. 

However, this was a different nest as Orcs were helping them. Orcs were larger creatures that were intelligent, often traveling in small but strong numbers and slaughtered anyone they came across even their lesser intelligent brethren, Goblins, and other creatures. They were brutal and merciless creatures that killed for sport. 

Katsuki knew all that but Rosie didn't know much about said creatures.

He leaned against the doorway of their inn room, arms crossed, silently watching Rosie prepare.

She stood near the hearth, bathed in the flickering orange glow of the fire as she buckled the last strap of her utility belt. Tight black pants hugged her legs, tucked neatly into knee-high boots she had just finished lacing. Her leather corset and fitted top allowed ease of movement, though reinforced enough to absorb shallow blows. Practical, deadly, and still distinctly her.

She moved with a smooth rhythm—checking and rechecking the daggers she had sheathed all over her abdomen, back, thighs, arms and hidden in her boots, then running her fingers along the pouches on her belt, murmuring to herself as she inventoried the vials, powders, and wire-thin tools hidden within.

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed faintly, catching the subtle signs that she was trying to keep her nerves in check. The slight way her fingers trembled when she paused over a throwing knife. The quick exhale she gave before straightening her spine again.

“You ready?” he asked, voice low but gruff, cutting through the quiet.

Rosie looked up at him and gave a small, crooked smile—equal parts excitement and adrenaline. “Almost. I’ve never done this kind of mission before.”

Katsuki raised a brow. “Slaughtering goblin filth and tracking orc packs through forest dens? Yeah, it’s a real party.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t excited,” she grinned, adjusting the strap across her chest and clipping a vial of poison near her waist. “I’ve read about them, but never hunted either. They say goblins are twitchy and mean, but orcs are…” she trailed off.

Katsuki finished it for her. “Brutal. Fast. They don’t care how you scream, only that you do.” He pushed off the wall, folding his arms tighter. “The goblins take women. Orcs leave no one behind.”

Rosie’s expression sobered, but her jaw set with quiet resolve. “Then we make sure they don’t get the chance.”

Katsuki eyed her for a beat longer, gaze drifting down to the coiled wire tucked into her belt, the flash bombs strapped to her thigh, the curve of the blade at her lower back. She was meticulous, always had been—but this job wasn’t like the clean, surgical assassinations she’d been trained for. This was a warpath.

“Stick close to me,” he said, blunt. “The fuckers are fast. They hunt in swarms. You get surrounded, you’re dead.”

Rosie stepped forward, meeting his gaze with a quiet fierceness. “I’m not going to slow you down.”

He snorted, half amused, half frustrated. “That’s not what I said. You’re good—but this? This is different. This isn’t creeping through shadows and slicing throats before anyone smells you coming. These things want you to scream. They live for it.”

Her smile was thin, but real. “Then I won’t give them the satisfaction.”

For a moment, he said nothing. The fire cracked softly between them, casting long shadows across the wooden walls. Then he reached out and flicked one of the pouches on her belt. “That smoke bomb?”

“Yep. And two acid vials, in case we find a brood den.”

He grunted. “Good. You use one, you don’t wait—just run to me. Got it?”

Rosie gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t test me.”

“I never do,” she said sweetly, though her eyes glittered with a familiar mischievous edge. “...Except when I do.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed his gear from the table—twin swords holstered at his back in an x, and two daggers. He paused, giving her one last glance before nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go kill something ugly.”

Rosie followed him, her footfalls light, a blade already in hand. “After this, I’m buying us both the strongest drinks I can find.”

“Tch. You’re not even gonna survive past the second bottle.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t drink like an orc.”

He snorted, glancing at her sidelong. “That’s the most disturbing thing you’ve said all week.”

She just winked. “You’ll love me for it later.”

And with that, they stepped into the cool morning mist, the forest waiting like an open mouth ahead of them, and the hunt just begining.

The forest had grown unnaturally quiet. Birdsong and wind had vanished hours ago, replaced only by the crunch of their boots through dead leaves and the distant dripping of water. Eventually, the two came upon a shallow ravine, choked with moss-covered stones and gnarled roots. Hidden between two jagged rock faces, almost completely obscured by foliage, was a narrow opening carved into the earth—dark and damp like a wound in the land.

The stench hit them immediately.

Rot. Ash. Blood.

“This is it,” Katsuki muttered, crouching by the mouth of the cave. He touched the rock—fresh scratch marks. Goblin claws. “They’ve been coming and going recently. Could be fifty inside. Maybe more.”

Rosie stood beside him, eyes narrowed as she peered into the shadowed maw. “Smells like a breeding den.”

“Means we burn the whole place to the ground when we’re done,” he said, already pulling out a flint and steel. With a few practiced strikes, he lit a torch, the orange flame flickering weakly against the choking darkness ahead. “Stay close.”

She fell into step behind him as they entered the tunnel.

The stone walls were narrow and slick, forcing them into single file. The deeper they walked, the more the torchlight danced across crude symbols carved into the walls—sacrificial runes, tribal markings, blood-smeared warnings in broken languages. Rosie moved silently behind him, her blade in hand, breath light. The passage twisted and forked several times, but Katsuki never faltered—following the scent of goblin filth and the faint vibration in the earth that promised more beneath.

They walked in silence for a long stretch before Katsuki finally spoke, his voice low over the crackle of flame.

“How’s your magic?”

Rosie blinked at the unexpected question. “My magic?”

“You don’t use it much. Just wondering how strong you are with it.”

“Oh. Uh…” She paused, her voice echoing faintly in the tight tunnel. “Not very.”

He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “You hiding something?”

“No,” she smiled, a little sheepish. “I can only use basic spells. I’m… not like the other elves.”

“What kind of magic can you do?”

“Light magic.”

He stopped walking. “Light magic?”

She nodded, brushing her fingers over one of the tiny pouches at her belt. “Magic that draws from the sun, moon, and stars.”

Katsuki turned back around and resumed walking, his voice more curious now than skeptical. “That rare?”

“Among my kind?” she said, stepping carefully over a cracked stone. “Extremely. Most elves draw from the elements or from the arcane. Fire, wind, illusion, nature—typical schools of magic. But no one uses light magic. No one ever taught me how to wield it.”

“So everything you know…?”

“Self-taught,” she said softly. “Just trial and error. Sometimes I could hold the light in my hands. Other times, it’d vanish as soon as I blinked. I still can’t do much more than small bursts. Flashes. Shimmering barriers, sometimes, if I’m lucky.”

Katsuki didn’t speak right away. Eventually, he muttered, “Huh. Weird.”

Rosie frowned slightly. “Weird?”

“I meant rare,” he corrected quickly, scowling. “Rare’s usually dangerous. You never thought to train it more?”

She let out a short breath. “You think I didn’t try? It’s not like I had scrolls or grimoires laying around for light spells, Katsuki. It's rare for elves even, some say it's a gift from the saints others say it's a curse.”

He was quiet for a moment. “…You ever use it in a fight?”

“Sometimes. First time, I blinded a bounty hunter trying to stab me in a tavern. Second time, I lit a spider hoard on fire by accident. Still don’t know how I did that.”

A low snort came from him. “Maybe you’ll do it again.”

Rosie smiled behind him. “If I do, I’ll make sure to aim it away from you.”

He grunted. “Appreciated.”

The path widened as they moved deeper, the air growing colder. Ahead, they could see a faint flickering glow—torches. Shadows. The low hiss of goblin speech. The cavern was opening up.

Katsuki paused at the edge of the bend, raising a hand. “We’re close. We keep this clean. Quiet. Get in, find their core, wipe it out.”

Rosie’s grip tightened on her dagger. “Got it,” she whispered, her voice steady.

The tunnel system widened into a sprawling network of chambers and side passages, the air thick with the stench of rot and the sour, coppery tang of blood. Rosie stayed low behind Katsuki, her eyes constantly scanning for movement, ears twitching at every echo.

They moved like shadows.

The first goblin patrol, a trio of wiry, green-skinned creatures dragging a stolen pig, barely had time to grunt before Rosie’s dagger slit their throats one after the other. Katsuki caught the fourth by the leg as it tried to run, yanking it back and snapping its neck in a clean twist. The bodies were dragged into a crevice and left in silence.

They picked off two more groups the same way. Quick. Precise. No noise. Rosie was focused, calm. She moved like water, weaving between jagged stalagmites and torchlit corners, slipping behind her enemies with dagger in hand and leaving no trace but the sudden stillness of death.

But as they neared a larger chamber, the one likely leading to the main den, the air shifted. Rosie felt it before she saw it. The unnatural stillness. The faint echo of breathing in the wrong direction.

“Katsuki—” she whispered, but it was too late.

From the shadows above, rope nets dropped. Dozens of goblins erupted from crevices and holes in the walls, swarming them. Rosie was dragged back before she could scream, separated by the weight of snarling bodies that pulled her down. Her blade flew from her hand.

Katsuki roared, blasting several back with a wave of fire, but more kept coming—dozens, maybe more, shrieking in that guttural, high-pitched language, their clawed hands grabbing at her limbs, her torso.

“ROSIE!”

She fought like a wild thing, spitting and twisting, but there were too many. Her back slammed against the floor, and she heard a rip in her top as claws scraped her side. They pinned her down, tugging at her belt, clawing at her thighs, their grins wide and lecherous, drool falling from jagged teeth.

Panic surged.

And then something snapped.

The light inside her flared. Rosie screamed, not in fear, but in rage, and threw her arms outward. “Get OFF ME!”

A blinding golden pulse erupted from her body, throwing every goblin around her backward with a searing hiss. They shrieked as radiant energy scorched their flesh, their bodies evaporating in beams of heat and blinding light. For a moment, the chamber lit up like sunrise.

Katsuki shielded his eyes with his arm and surged forward, blasting the remaining goblins to ash as they scrambled, shrieking and burning in retreat. When the chamber finally went still, only scorched stone and the acrid smell of burned flesh remained.

Rosie was on her knees in the center of it all, trembling slightly, hands still glowing faintly with residual magic. Her hair was disheveled, lips parted, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. Torn fabric barely clung to her shoulder, dirt and blood streaking across her skin.

Katsuki dropped to his knees beside her in an instant, grabbing her face gently between his hands. “Hey—hey. Look at me. Rosie. You okay?” His voice was tight, low, uncharacteristically soft.

She blinked up at him, wide-eyed, dazed. “I… I didn’t mean to do that. I just—” Her voice broke.

“Forget that,” he snapped, his hands still cupping her cheeks. “Did they hurt you? Did they touch you?”

Her brow creased, and she shook her head. “No. Not really. Just my shirt. They didn’t—I’m okay.”

But his eyes were wild—scanning her arms, her collar, her face for any mark, any wound she hadn’t noticed. His fingers gently traced a faint scratch across her temple, jaw clenched.

“You should’ve stayed behind me,” he muttered, voice rough with something dangerously close to guilt. “You always stay behind me.”

“I got grabbed,” she said quietly, placing her hand on his wrist. “I didn’t see them coming.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the pounding in his chest. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

Rosie gave him a small, shaky smile. “But I’m still here. And… I blasted goblins into dust, so that’s new.”

That earned a faint snort from him. “Yeah. You burned them.”

“Sorry I got blood and goblin guts everywhere.” She teased, though her voice wavered. “Pretty sure I ruined the aesthetic.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but his hands lingered just a moment longer on her face before he helped her up, holding her by the waist until she was steady. “You’re not allowed to die on me,” he said gruffly.

She looked up at him, heart hammering. “I won’t. Not while you’ve got my back.”

He nodded once and let her go—reluctantly. “Come on,” he muttered. “We finish this. Then you get a new shirt.”

“And a bath,” she added, grimacing at the smell.

“Yeah,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “And I’m burning this whole damn nest to the ground.”

The stench hit them first.

A gut-turning blend of rot, blood, waste, and something darker—feral and wrong—like the air itself had curdled from centuries of filth. Rosie gagged behind her sleeve, even as Katsuki raised a hand to halt them at the mouth of a wide, jagged tunnel.

The passage opened suddenly into a massive dome-shaped cavern, its ceiling lost in shadow, the walls slick with moisture and glowing fungi. Flickering torchlight illuminated the horror within.

Goblins. Dozens—hundreds—of them.

Some feasted on the torn carcasses of livestock, their long claws digging into raw meat, snapping bones like twigs as blood painted the ground. Others hissed and grunted over half-eaten corpses—human corpses, scattered in pieces.

In a far corner, cages lined the walls—filled with the shivering, malnourished remains of captured villagers. Women and girls were no longer moving. At the center of the den, amid fire pits and piles of refuse, goblins fought one another savagely, biting and clawing in a frenzy. Others were tangled in unspeakable acts, snarling like animals, oblivious to anything but their base urges as they thrusted into corpses.

Rosie’s jaw clenched, bile rising in her throat. “Disgusting,” she whispered.

Katsuki stood beside her, stone-faced. His fists were tight at his sides, eyes scanning every possible threat. “No orcs,” he muttered. “Still no damn orcs…”

“That’s what makes this worse,” Rosie breathed. “This isn’t goblin strategy. This is chaos. No discipline. No fear.”

“They're nesting,” he growled. “They feel safe. Like they rule this whole pit.”

He reached behind his shoulders and unsheathed both of his blades with a low shring, the metal whispering in the dank air. No fire. No explosions. Not down here. Not when a single detonation could bring the entire dome crashing down on their heads. “Stay low. Hit fast. Don’t draw too much attention at once,” he said coldly.

Rosie nodded, already slipping one of her daggers into her palm, her body low and poised like a predator.

They moved. Like shadows bleeding into light, they burst into the cavern—Katsuki leading the charge as he plunged his twin blades into the first goblin’s spine. The creature let out a strangled cry before collapsing, alerting the others.

A wave of snarling green faces turned toward them. Shrieks filled the air.

Rosie darted left, a blur of motion as her dagger sliced across throats and knees, dancing between enemies like moonlight on a blade. A goblin lunged at her with a jagged spear, only to be met with a radiant flash of light from her fingertips—blinding it long enough for her to drive her blade into its eye.

Katsuki fought like a demon. No fire, no roar—just cold, clean, merciless steel. His blades moved in perfect arcs, severing limbs and spilling black blood across the stone. He ducked low beneath a crude axe swing, ramming his shoulder into the goblin’s chest and driving his sword through its ribs in one brutal thrust.

More came. From every corner of the dome, goblins flooded toward them—screeching, snarling, crazed. The feeding stopped. The fighting ceased. They descended together, a tidal wave of filth and fury.

“Back to back!” Rosie shouted, twisting around just as Katsuki pivoted to cover her flank.

They moved in tandem, bodies synchronized from weeks of fighting together—each slash met with a parry, every dodge answered by a killing blow. Rosie's fingers sparked with golden light when a group tried to flank them—blinding the horde just long enough for Katsuki to tear through them with a silent, efficient rage.

But still, they kept coming. Endless goblins, crawling from crevices and tunnels, driven by the blood scent and the primal urge to tear them apart.

Rosie panted, sweat and gore streaking her brow. “Where the hell are the orcs?!”

Katsuki cut down two more and glanced toward the far end of the dome, where an altar stood—black stone slick with sacrifice. “I think we’re about to find out.”

And beyond that, just barely visible in the darkness… two massive shadows shifted. The two massive shadows by the altar moved—and the chaos of the cavern seemed to freeze for a breath. Out of the gloom stepped two orcs, taller than any man, their hulking forms covered in blackened iron armor scarred by countless battles. Their skin was an earthy green, rough like bark and thick with ritual scars. One carried a jagged cleaver longer than Katsuki’s leg, the other hefted a spiked mace crusted with dried blood and their eyes—small, yellow, burning with cruelty—locked directly onto Katsuki.

“Fucking finally,” he muttered, stepping forward and wiping blood off his blades with a flick. “Was getting bored of the warm-up.”

Rosie glanced at him, breathless and blood-spattered, her dagger coated in black goblin blood. “You sure you want to take both?”

He smirked, teeth bared. “You handle the vermin.”

She didn’t argue. The goblins, emboldened by the arrival of their champions, swarmed anew. Rosie spun, drawing a small glass vial from her belt and hurling it at the ground in front of her.

CRACK!

A cloud of noxious green smoke exploded outward. Goblins gagged and shrieked as the poison melted through their flesh and lungs, dropping them in twisted, spasming piles. She moved through them like a flame through dry leaves—calculated, ruthless, her remaining vials flaring in bursts of alchemical fury.

One vial ignited on impact, reducing a cluster of attackers to screaming, flailing fireballs. Another burst in a spray of acid, dissolving the weapons and faces of the goblins who tried to flank her.

All the while, her eyes never left Katsuki.

He met the first orc with a clash of steel and raw strength. The brute swung its cleaver down with enough force to split stone, but Katsuki caught it on crossed blades, sliding to the side with a grunt. The second orc came from behind, mace raised, but Katsuki spun low and kicked out the beast’s knee, dodging just in time to avoid being flattened.

He fought without explosions—his movements silent, precise, relying on pure grit and speed. Steel clanged against steel, sparks flying as he danced between the two behemoths, slashing at joints, tendons, ribs. One blade caught the edge of a shoulder plate and jammed, but he twisted it free with a growl, slicing the orc’s arm open to the bone.

Blood sprayed. The first orc roared and staggered, its cleaver dragging limply.

Katsuki didn’t hesitate. He drove his sword up under the orc’s chin, the tip punching through the top of its skull. The beast gurgled, eyes rolling back before it collapsed in a heap.

But the second one was already charging.

Katsuki tried to turn, but the mace caught his side, knocking him across the floor with a hard, wet crack. He hit the ground hard, a groan tearing from his chest as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“KATSUKI!” Rosie shouted.

She tore through the last of the goblins, leaping over a pile of scorched corpses as she hurled her final vial—this one a thick, viscous purple liquid—straight into the orc’s face.

BOOM!

The vial detonated in a blinding flash of violet flame, the alchemical explosion eating through the creature’s helmet and one side of its face. The orc howled, blinded and enraged, swinging wildly.

Katsuki forced himself up, one arm pressed to his bruised ribs. “You’re late,” he snarled, wiping blood from his lips.

Rosie skidded to his side, a dagger in each hand. “Had to kill a hundred goblins first. Sorry for the delay.”

The orc turned, blackened face twisted in fury—and Katsuki surged forward, both blades glowing faintly with heat as he slammed one into the orc’s thigh and the other deep into its gut.

“Hold it!” he barked.

Rosie leapt, grabbing the handle of the cleaver still embedded in the first orc’s corpse. She spun mid-air, using the weight of the blade to bring it down onto the second orc’s neck with a grunt of effort.

The head didn’t come clean off, but the damage was enough.The orc stumbled, choking, and Katsuki pulled free one of his blades and rammed it through the beast’s throat from behind.

The cavern went quiet. Rosie stepped back, panting, covered in sweat and blood. Katsuki leaned on one knee, chest heaving. Together, they looked around—the goblins were dead. The orcs, butchered. The nest had fallen.

“Next time,” Rosie said between breaths, “we blow it all up from the outside.”

Katsuki spit blood. “Next time, you stay closer.”

She smirked, exhaustion in her voice. “You just missed me.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it.

Chapter Text

The town of Duskwatch was small, sleepy, and smelled faintly of baked bread and horse sweat. After turning in the proof of their goblin-cleansing heroics, and collecting a reward large enough to afford two nights in the best inn, they finally had a moment to breathe. Or, at least, he thought they would.

Rosie emerged from the washroom of their shared inn room, freshly bathed, pink hair damp and loose, wearing another all black gear and armed especially for someone who had nearly been eaten by goblins and bludgeoned by orcs just hours prior.

Katsuki, towel slung around his neck, was still toweling off his hair and half-dressed, grumbling under his breath about how the soap smelled like roses and why couldn’t this place carry anything neutral like pine or “something that didn’t reek of a flower field being murdered.”

“We’re taking the bandit camp outside the north road,” Rosie said casually, tightening her utility belt like it was a normal follow-up to brushing one’s hair.

Katsuki blinked. “The what?”

She glanced over, unfazed. “The bandit camp. Outside of town. There’s a bounty for them.”

He stared at her like she’d announced she was going to wrestle a dragon bare-handed. “We just got back,” he growled, slinging his towel onto the bed. “Can’t we take one fucking day to sit still without something trying to kill us?”

Rosie crossed her arms. “You were the one who said downtime makes you twitchy.”

“Yeah, me. You nearly got torn in half by goblins and almost melted the cavern with sunlight rage.”

“It was controlled sunlight rage,” she snapped back. “And you got smacked into a wall by an orc the size of a barn. But you’re fine, right?”

“That’s different,” he huffed, dragging on his shirt. “I’m built for this crap.”

“Oh? And what am I built for, then? Tea parties and lace stitching?”

He gave her a look. “You wear daggers and hair ribbons. I have no fucking idea anymore.”

Rosie threw her hands up. “You’re being impossible!”

“I’m being reasonable!” he shot back, pointing a finger at her. “We just finished crawling through an orgy pit of cannibal goblins, and you wanna go skipping into a bandit camp like it’s a goddamn afternoon stroll!”

“We're adventurers, Katsuki! We do things. We fight, we slay, we collect gold, rinse and repeat. You’re the one who said you’ve lived this way for ten years!”

“Yeah, and I earned a few damn days off! I didn’t go ten years straight without learning when to sit down and shut up.”

“I’ll sit down when the world stops needing people like us!”

Katsuki paced toward the table, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl only to aggressively bite it mid-glare. “You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

Rosie marched up beside him, snatching the apple from his hand, biting it again just to spite him. “I’ll burn out doing what I’m good at.”

They stood there, chewing furiously in unison, glaring across a stolen apple.

A long beat of silence.

Katsuki blinked first. “...Did you just double-bite my apple?”

“Yes.”

“Gods, you’re lucky I don’t throw you out a window.”

“Ha! Like you could. You’re still sore from the orc throwing you across a stalagmite.”

“I am not sore.”

“You winced tying your boots this morning.”

“I winced because the laces were uneven.”

Rosie rolled her eyes and flopped onto the bed dramatically, sighing as she chewed her mouthful. “Ugh. You’re impossible when you’re being sensible.”

“And you’re insufferable when you’re reckless.”

“I live for reckless,” she shot back with a grin.

He snorted, turning his back on her as he climbed into the bed. “One night. We stay one damn night.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Then we do the bandit camp?”

He sighed. “Fine. Bandit camp. After I sleep for twelve hours.”

Rosie tossed the apple core into the fireplace and grinned. “Deal.”

“You’re a menace,” he muttered, pulling his blanket up over his face.

“And you love it.”

From under the blanket, a muffled growl: “Go to bed.”

She just giggled, hopping over to her side of the room and humming a victory tune.

The room was quiet. Moonlight filtered in through the thin curtains, casting silver lines across the floor and bed. The fire in the hearth had long since burned low, and the only sound was the soft rustling of sheets and the even rhythm of Katsuki’s breathing as he laid curled under his blanket, finally—finally—resting. Until something shifted behind him.

He cracked one eye open, warm breath tickled the back of his neck. Katsuki blinked, brain still fogged with sleep… until a very familiar elbow nudged into his side. “What the—” He rolled over abruptly, eyes narrowing in the dark.

Sure enough, Rosie was there, curled beside him in a loose tangle of limbs, pink hair fanned out on his pillow, already halfway asleep and in one of her frilly silk nightgowns.

“The hell are you doing?” he hissed, voice low but sharp.

Rosie gave a sleepy little hum, eyes still closed. “M’bed’s unfit to sleep in…”

Katsuki stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “So you got into mine?”

She cracked one eye open. “There was soup.”

He blinked. “...Soup?”

“Yeah.” She yawned, stretching with absolutely zero shame. “I was eating in bed while reading. Dropped the bowl. It’s everywhere. Smells like potatoes, leeks and regret.”

“You idiot,” he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re worse than a toddler.”

“I’m a delicate lady,” she said with mock offense.

“Delicate lady my ass,” he muttered. “You’re a disaster. Like a raccoon in a tavern.”

She scowled and reached over, giving him a light smack on the chest. “Don’t insult me while I’m vulnerable and cozy,” she huffed.

“You’re trespassing,” he shot back. “You’ve got your soup bed—go lie in it.”

“I’ll smell like stew!”

“You already do!”

Rosie rolled dramatically onto her side, nestling deeper into the blanket they now shared like she owned the damn thing. “You’re being so mean to me right now.”

Katsuki growled under his breath, glaring at her. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you on the floor.”

She pouted, bottom lip jutting out just enough to be infuriating. “You wouldn’t. I’m precious.”

“You’re infuriating,” he corrected.

She blinked up at him. “Still better than the cold, soup-scented abyss over there.”

He opened his mouth to argue—again—but then just groaned and flopped onto his side, turning away from her completely and tugging the blanket up over his shoulder. “Touch me and you die,” he grumbled.

“Mmhm,” Rosie murmured, already smiling as she burrowed under the covers beside him. “Goodnight, sunshine.”

He didn’t answer. But a moment later, as she sighed softly and relaxed beside him, he let out the faintest of snorts, barely audible over the stillness of the room. “…damn elf,” he muttered.

Morning came far too quickly. Warm light spilled across the bed in hazy gold lines, the sound of chirping birds somehow louder than it had any right to be. Katsuki stirred with a low grunt, face buried in the pillow. Something… soft was against his side, it was warm. He cracked one eye open. Rosie was still there, stretched comfortably under the blanket beside him, one leg lazily thrown over his. Her pink hair was a mess, strands tickling his bare shoulder, and she was grinning even though her eyes were still closed.

“…Are you smiling?” he grumbled, voice gravelly.

“Mmhm,” she hummed, not even pretending to be sorry. “You’re warm. And I didn’t fall into soup overnight, so this is a win for me.”

“You drooled on me.”

“I did not,” she gasped, swatting his chest lightly. “You’re lucky I didn’t stab you in my sleep. I’ve been known to lash out when disturbed.”

“You are a disturbance.”

She sighed dramatically. “And you’re a blanket thief. I nearly froze.”

“You crawled in my bed—”

“Only because someone was busy snoring like a dying wyvern and left the hearth to burn out.”

He rolled his eyes and tossed the blanket off with a huff. “You done blaming me for your decisions?”

“Never,” she beamed sweetly, already slipping out of bed and stretching in the sunlight like a cat.

As she walked to her pack, he caught himself watching her and how her silk nightgown rose and he got a nice view of her ass, swearing to himself, he rubbed a hand down his face. Sitting up, before grumbling and grabbing his shirt.

They arrived at the Adventure’s Guild, which was packed with other adventurers, all crowding around the request board like flies on fresh meat. Rosie elbowed her way in, Katsuki trailing behind with his arms crossed and a mug of lukewarm black coffee in his hand.

When she saw the notice for the bandit camp had been taken, she let out a full-body groan. “Oh, come on!” she whined. “We miss it by one morning and they swoop in like vultures!”

Katsuki sipped his coffee with zero sympathy. “Maybe if you hadn’t drooled all over my bed and demanded a full night’s sleep—”

“Oh, so now you value sleep? When I said we should keep going last night, you were the one clutching your ribs and growling about needing ‘twelve uninterrupted hours.’” She mimicked his grumpy voice poorly, crossing her arms.

He scowled. “That is not what I sound like.”

“It’s exactly what you sound like.”

He was about to fire back when Rosie suddenly turned, eyes gleaming, and ripped a faded parchment off the far side of the board like she’d just found buried treasure. “Katsuki,” she said, voice deadly serious, eyes bright. “This one.”

He raised a brow, still sipping his drink as she shoved the parchment at him. “‘Purge a rogue coven of witches terrorizing a forest village with curses, livestock theft, and possible child hexing,’” he read aloud, then looked at her like she’d grown a third eye. “Seriously?”

“Yes!” she said, practically bouncing. “Witches! We haven’t fought witches yet!”

“That’s because they’re gross,” he grunted. “Old hags with rotten teeth, creaky bones, and potions that smell like swamp farts.”

Rosie laughed, biting her lip as she leaned in. “Aw, what’s the matter? Scared they’ll turn you into a toad?”

“I’m not afraid of witches,” he snapped, glaring at the paper like it personally offended him. “I just don’t like dealing with cryptic riddles and cursed fruit and weird sticky huts.”

“They’re a challenge. I thought you liked that.”

“I like things I can stab.”

Rosie smiled, clearly winning this argument before it even started. “Come on, Kats. This’ll be fun.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. Witches. Gods-damned witches. Why couldn’t it have been a troll? A giant spider? A sentient pile of manure would be preferable to chanting, warty forest creeps brewing bone soup in cauldrons and cackling at the moon. But he looked at Rosie, bouncing on her heels, eyes wide and bright with excitement. “…Fine,” he muttered. “We hunt the damn witches.”

She lit up like the sun. “You do love me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Sure, sure. Denial’s a powerful spell.”

He groaned and downed the rest of his coffee in one long suffering sip, “last time I let you decide anything.”

“We both know that is a lie,” she rolled her eyes as she skipped over to the receptionist waving the paper. 

The forest ahead loomed like a crooked jawline on the horizon, its trees tall and dark, branches gnarled like twisted fingers clawing at the sky. Fog curled around the base like a low-hanging mist, unnaturally still. Rosie rode atop of Divine, humming incessantly as she ate an apple. Katsuki peeked a glance at her to see her eagerly marking stuff in the journal of hers she was constantly writing in. Stopping Dynamight, Katsuki dismounted and tied his horse to a branch. 

Katsuki adjusted the straps on his pack and cast a glance sideways. “Keep your ears sharp when we get closer. Witches don’t fight like goblins or bandits. They like to screw with your head first.”

Rosie, walked up to him after tying Divine onto the same branch as Dynamight, perked up immediately. “You’ve fought witches before?”

“Unfortunately,” he muttered. “Three times. Once in the Blackmarsh. Once in Velwood Hollow. And once in a haunted bakery, don’t ask.”

She blinked. “Haunted bakery?”

“They cursed the bread,” he grunted. “Wasn’t funny.”

Rosie giggled, trying to suppress a full laugh as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “So what should I know?”

Katsuki sighed, shifting gears. “Right. So. Witches operate in covens—usually three or more, but there’s always one matron running the show. The oldest, most powerful one. If we take her out, the rest fall apart.”

Rosie nodded, eyes wide. “Okay. So find the leader. What else?”

“They use familiars—ravens, rats, cats, even bugs. Watch for animals acting weird. Witches enchant objects, too. That brooch you think is pretty? Probably cursed. That stew someone offers you? Don’t eat it. If something smells like cinnamon and iron? Don’t even breathe it.”

She stared at him in awe. “You really know all this.”

“I’ve seen too many idiots turned into frogs or trapped in mirrors to be casual about it,” he grumbled. “Witches don’t like direct fights. They like illusions, traps, confusion. You start hearing things you know damn well aren’t real? Trust your gut, not your eyes.”

Rosie leaned closer, her expression softening with admiration. “You’re kind of brilliant, you know that?”

He blinked. “Don’t start flattering me, you’ll make me suspicious.”

She smiled anyway, and he looked away, ears just barely pink. He adjusted the swords to his back, beginning to walk through the obviously haunted forest that was filled with fog. Rosie following as she continued to hum.  The tree canopy swallowed the sunlight almost immediately, plunging them into a strange twilight. Every bird call sounded distant. The air was thick with the scent of damp moss, old bark, and something faintly sweet—like honey and blood. They had walked for a couple of hours now before Katsuki finally picked up the scent.

Katsuki drew one of his blades and kept the other hand free. “This is it,” he muttered. “No talking unless necessary. No eating anything. No picking up shiny crap. Stay behind me unless I say otherwise.”

Rosie nodded, tightening her belt and gripping a small dagger.

“I mean it,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Witches love stealing beautiful women.”

Rosie blinked. “Wait—what?”

“They use them. Drain them. Turn them into thralls, sometimes vessels for younger witches to jump bodies. You’re a prime damn target. Don’t wander.”

She stared at him, then smiled, soft and slow. “…You think I’m beautiful?”

He froze. Eyes narrowing slightly as if he could rewind the last ten seconds. “…That’s what you got out of all that?”

She bit her lip, grinning now. “You said I was a prime target.”

“I said they steal beautiful women. Logically, you’re… eligible.”

“Eligible,” she repeated, a hand pressed to her heart. “Katsuki, your way with words is going to get us both killed.”

He rolled his eyes and kept walking. “You’re impossible.”

“And you think I’m beautiful.”

“I think witches are annoying,” he countered, voice flat.

“Deflection,” she teased, following right behind him, practically glowing.

“Rosie—”

“Yes, dear?”

“Stay. Close.”

“Yes, darling.”

He groaned audibly, muttering something that definitely included the word menace, but she only giggled and fell into step behind him, grinning like she’d just won a prize. Woman, even elven were such a pain in the ass. 

Deep within the forest, beneath gnarled roots and rotting leaves, they found the first witch.The witch stood tall and shriveled, her skin like melted wax and bark, eyes sunken black pits, her hair tangled with bones and moss. She hissed at their approach, raising a gnarled staff crowned with a glowing red crystal.

“Back,” Katsuki barked, stepping in front of Rosie. “She’ll try to mess with your head.”

“Too late,” Rosie muttered, eyes already flicking with unease at the whispering vines curling along the walls.

The witch screeched, unleashing a pulse of magic that bent the air like heat over stone.

But Katsuki moved first, “strike the source of her magic!” he shouted. “Usually the staff, an amulet, or her damned face!”

Rosie lunged right as the witch cast a wave of dark mist toward them. She flung a vial that shattered into silver sparks, disorienting the witch long enough for Katsuki to move in. With a grunt, he knocked the staff aside and drove his blade straight through her chest. Her body twisted and writhed like smoke trying to escape a bottle. The cave groaned around them.

The moment the witch's body hit the floor, her magic flared violently—and shattered. The illusion-heavy walls of the den cracked open like glass under pressure. Light streamed in where once there was only shadow. The air became breathable again. But as they pressed forward into the last corridor of the den, a pulse of residual magic rippled through the air like a ripple in a pond.

“Wait—” Katsuki growled, raising his hand, “That wasn’t—”

The ground shimmered.

Reality fractured.

Rosie blinked, disoriented. The corridor had disappeared as she now stood in a dense grove of trees, the air silent. Her ears twitched, trying in vain to pick up on any kind of wildlife or wind. There was only silence. 

She turned slowly, “Katsuki?” she called, sharp and loud.

Recieving no answer, her pointed ears twitched. No footsteps. No breathing. Nothing. Not even the echo of her own voice. Frowning, Rosie spun in place, dagger drawn. She turned full circle—twice—but there was no trace of him and that terrified her more than anything. “…Katsuki?”

Still nothing.

The world around him was familiar, too familiar. Katsuki stood barefoot in worn training gear on the dusty old field behind the castle of Thaemerth, the academy for rare and arcane magic. He knew this place, had lived and studied here for years. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows, the familiar smell of grass and metal filled the air. However, standing across from him—smiling with that same damn grin—was All Might, older, tired, but alive.

Katsuki’s heart slammed into his ribs. His mouth went dry, “…Sensei?” he croaked.

All Might tilted his head. “You’ve grown. Quite a bit, haven’t you, kid?”

Katsuki’s legs threatened to give out. “You’re… You’re dead. I saw—”

“I know,” the figure said, stepping closer, hands in his pockets. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not proud.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched. His sword dropped with a dull thunk to the ground. All the tension, all the fire, all the rough edges around him… crumbled to dust. He was one hundred and fifteen again. Angry. Afraid. Wanting to be enough. Wanting to be seen. “I—I didn’t get there in time,” he whispered. “I wasn’t strong enough. I should’ve—”

“You weren’t,” All Might said.

The words didn’t land like a slap. They landed like truth. Katsuki flinched as the figure of his former mentor stepped closer—bloodied, bruised, broken. Exactly as he had been the day he died.

"You weren’t strong enough," All Might repeated, his once-gentle tone now laced with venom. “You let me die.”

Katsuki shook his head slowly, as if denying it would change the past. “No… I didn’t… it wasn’t supposed to be—”

“Why did you kill me, Katsuki?”

The words hit like an earthquake, Katsuki’s mouth opened but nothing came out. His hands trembled, his knees buckling. He had fought armies, wizards, goblins, orcs, sirens, monsters, and armies. This broke him.

“I didn’t mean to—” he choked out, voice wet and thin. “I never—”

All Might’s eyes burned with betrayal. “You watched it happen. You stood there. You were too slow. Too weak.” All Might surged forward, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him to the ground.

Katsuki didn’t fight back. He couldn’t because this was his teacher. The first punch broke his lip open, the second cracked across his cheekbone. He didn’t move, not even flinching. He never cried out, he took each blow as the punishment it was. Blood spilled down his chin and he just stared up at the image of the man he’d worshipped, looked up to. 

“You failed me,” All Might spat, raising his blade—Katsuki’s own sword, reclaimed from the dirt—above his heart. “And now you’ll die just like I did.”

Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat, on his knees, his entire body hurting as it was bruised and bloodied. He wheezed, it hurt too much to breathe. Nor could he move, even if he wanted to, but he refused because he deserved this death. Closing his eyes, he held his head high just as rain started to pour, bracing himself for the sword to fall. Only it never fell.

CLANG!

The steel rang as Rosie intercepted the blade with Katsuki’s second sword, her feet skidding across the ground as sparks flew from the force of the parry. “Get away from him!” she shouted.

Katsuki blinked, dazed. “Rosie—no! Stop! Don’t—don’t hurt him!”

“It’s not him!” she shouted back without looking at him, her voice sharp and cracking. “It’s not who you think it is—it’s a witch! It’s a witch!”

The illusion of All Might turned toward her, face twisting into something inhuman—its skin bubbling, eyes going glassy and void-black, voice warping into a screech of anger. Still, it fought. Still, it wore the skin of the man Katsuki had loved like a second father.

Rosie clenched her jaw as she struck again, her dagger flashing into her hand, dodging the false mentor’s inhuman swipes. She drove the blade upward, right into the creature’s chest, twisting hard—and with that, the illusion cracked like glass under pressure. The false All Might fell to the ground, shriveling, contorting until the body that hit the floor was not Katsuki’s old teacher, but the curled, withered corpse of a witch, her face gnarled and her mouth still hissing curses even in death.

The illusion around them vanished, leaving behind only damp earth and silence. Katsuki sat frozen on his knees, eyes wide. Blood ran down his jaw, mixing with the rain as he stared at the witch’s corpse, lips parted. Rosie dropped the sword beside it and rushed to him, collapsing to her knees as she threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Katsuki,” she whispered, trembling, holding him tighter when he didn’t move. “Katsuki, look at me. It’s over. You’re safe.”

His arms, stiff at first, finally came to life—and clung to her like a drowning man, fists curling into her hair, he buried his face into her shoulder. She held him tighter, saying nothing, her fingers sliding gently through his damp hair. The rain came harder, pounding against the earth around them as if the heavens themselves mourned with him. “Katsuki,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible above the downpour. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breath was ragged. His heart thudded against hers like a drum that had lost its rhythm. She waited, patient and unwavering. His voice, when it came, was raw and hoarse, “…no.”

They found shelter beneath the lip of a shallow cave tucked behind a curtain of overgrown ivy. The mouth of it faced away from the storm, and the overhang gave just enough protection from the wind and rain. Rosie worked quickly, hands trembling just enough to betray her calm exterior as she knelt beside the small fire she’d started. Katsuki sat on a flat rock, arms slack at his sides, blood still drying on his jaw and neck. His eyes were hollow. Unfocused. The flickering orange glow of the fire made him look pale and far away.

Rosie removed her gloves and pulled out a small basin, scooping rainwater to cleanse the wounds on his face and knuckles. Her fingers brushed his skin lightly—reverently—as she whispered quiet healing incantations under her breath. Elven light pulsed at her fingertips, his bruises began to fade. She didn’t speak, not until the worst of the blood had been washed away. Only then did she sit back slightly, still pressing a cloth to his cheek, and ask softly, “Were you really going to let him kill you?”

Katsuki didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just stared into the fire as if it held answers. “Yes,” he said quietly, after a long moment.

Her hands paused. Then the bandage she was winding around his ribs suddenly tightened—too tight, pulling hard enough that he winced, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Shit—” he started to say.

But she stood abruptly, clenched her jaw—and hit him. Not hard. But hard enough to snap his attention to her. “How dare you?” she hissed.

“What?” he blinked, confused, the fire crackling loudly between them.

Her voice shook, her shoulders trembling with more than cold. “Do I matter that little to you?” she demanded, eyes glossing with more than rain. “We’ve been traveling together for months. Fighting together. Eating together. Sleeping ten feet apart every night and watching each other’s backs and learning how the other breathes in battle—and you’d leave me behind that easily?”

Katsuki opened his mouth—he didn’t know what to say. Didn’t expect this.

But Rosie wasn’t finished. “You would’ve let that thing run you through,” she said, voice thick and bitter. “Without fighting back. You didn’t even try. You saw someone who wasn’t real—and you’d rather die for a ghost than live with me.”

“Rosie—” he said softly, pained.

But she was already shaking her head,“I killed that witch to save you,” she said. “I killed it, and I thought for a second you’d hate me for it. Because you didn’t see what I saw.”

Before he could even get to his feet, she turned and walked toward the mouth of the cave. “Rosie, wait—”

“No,” she bit out, stepping into the rain. “Just… don’t.”

The rain swallowed her form almost instantly, the fire hissed in protest as droplets scattered across the stone. Katsuki sat frozen, the bandages loose in his lap, the warmth she left behind already fading. And for the first time since he was one hundred and twenty, Katsuki didn’t feel angry. He felt alone.

The forest swallowed her whole. Rosie ran, branches whipping against her face, mud sucking at her boots as the rain drenched her from head to toe. Lightning split the sky in jagged veins of white, and thunder rolled like war drums overhead. She didn’t care as all she could hear is her heart thundering louder. Her fists were clenched, knuckles white, magic pulsing wildly in her veins—erratic, untethered, like starlight trying to escape a collapsing sun. “Stupid,” she spat, breath hitching with fury. “Stupid, selfish, reckless idiot—”

She didn’t know if she meant him or herself. Rosie had always been too emotional for an elf, always wearing her emotions so openly and brazen. One of the many things that made her defective in her mother's eyes, among the many other reasons for her failure in being a proper princess.

The forest twisted, dark and wrong, whispers curled around the trunks of trees. The witches were close and she should have waited for Katsuki but she was too angry and upset. She didn’t plan, instead she struck like vengeance itself. The first two witches never saw her coming—light burst from her hands in searing golden arcs, slicing through the trees like blades. One dropped in a heap of twisted limbs, the other caught fire as her own cursed veil turned against her.

Rosie didn’t flinch. She moved, tears and rain indistinguishable as she tore through the underbrush.

A third witch tried to ensnare her with shadowy roots—Rosie hurled a vial of liquid sunlight, watching it explode in a flash of divine brilliance. The witch screamed, disintegrating into ash. Her magic had never been this wild. Never this fast. It surged through her like molten gold and burning rage, fueled by betrayal and heartbreak and the raw need to do something.

To matter, and to prove she could stand alone. By the time she reached the final clearing, her breath was ragged, her hands shook. Lightning flashed overhead—and standing at the center, draped in soaked robes and ritual bone charms, was the final witch.

The matron, old, massive woman that radiated corrupted magic that oozed off of her and into the very earth. “You are no match for me, little elf,” the crone rasped, lips curling.

Rosie didn’t answer. She was done talking.

Her light flared again, this time jagged and uncontrolled—a whip of starlight that cut through the rain and tore into the trees. The matron hissed, weaving a barrier of bone and rot to deflect the blast, but Rosie didn’t let up. She threw spell after spell—some half-formed, others exploding before they left her palms.

Each one chipped away at the barrier, each burning and with each flash of power, her body screamed for rest. The magic was burning too fast, her vision swam, and her limbs felt like lead. But she kept pushing until the barrier shattered—and the matron shrieked, knocked backward into the mud, her warding necklace scorched to ash.

Rosie took a staggering step forward, followed by another until her knees buckled. The forest spun, as her blood pounded in her ears. She collapsed face-first into the cold, wet ground, her body giving out, her vision darkening at the edges like ink spilled on parchment. Her last breath came in a ragged exhale as the thunder rumbled above her and she closed her eyes, her body all hot and aching as she fell into the abyss.

The storm had begun to die, but the forest was still soaked in shadows. Katsuki pushed through the thickets with grim determination, mud up to his calves, hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. The wind moaned through the trees like it mourned something sacred. He hated the fucking rain.

He felt it before he saw her. A faint glow—flickering like the final breath of a star—traced the ground with ghost-light magic. And there, at the heart of the destruction, was Rosie. Her body was curled in on itself, slumped in a pool of rain, blood, and torn earth. Her pink hair was plastered to her face, her skin deathly pale, but her body burned with fever—heat rolling off her like she was made of fire trapped in flesh.

Katsuki’s stomach dropped. “Shit,” he breathed, already kneeling in the mud beside her. “Rosie—?”

She didn’t move. He gently turned her over and cursed again when he saw her face. Her lips were cracked, her skin slick with sweat, her breath shallow and trembling. His eyes flicked around the clearing—dozens of corpses surrounded her. The entire coven was dead. “Damn it, Rosie,” he muttered hoarsely. “You lectured me for being reckless, then ran off and pulled this?”

His voice cracked halfway through. But there was no time to argue with an unconscious elf. He slipped his arms beneath her, cradling her limp form against his chest with more care than he ever showed in battle, and rose to his feet, carrying her out of the cursed clearing without a second glance at the ruined witches.

Dynamight whinnied sharply when he saw Katsuki emerge with Rosie in his arms. Divine, Rosie’s mare, trotted forward, ears flicking anxiously as if sensing her rider’s condition. “Easy,” Katsuki murmured, laying Rosie gently across Dynamight’s saddle before climbing up behind her, one arm securing her against him.

Divine followed without being told, ever loyal. They rode through rain, wind and nightfall.

Several hours later, he finally made it to the nearest tavern Inn. A beacon of warm light in the dark frigid night. Carrying her in his arms, he kicked the door open with his boot, approaching the barkeep demanding a room as he threw coin onto the bar, not caring he overpaid. The large barkeep handed over the key and nodded to upstairs. He took the room that was farthest, and once inside the room, he gently laid Rosie down on the couch, her body covered in blood, guts, sweat and mud, clothes clinging to her skin. She was burning up, still murmuring nonsense beneath her breath, caught somewhere between delirium and exhaustion.

Katsuki’s jaw was tight, but his movements were careful. He peeled off her boots first, setting them aside. Then her belt. Then, hesitating only briefly, he began undoing the laces of her tunic and corset, hands trembling—not from nerves, but from restraint. It wasn't the first time he had seen her naked but this was his first time taking care of anyone like this.

His fingers worked gently, reverently, as if she were glass. He didn’t look at her body—not like that. Not now. Not ever without her say-so.

Once she was stripped down to her panties and bra, he took a cloth and began cleaning the mud and blood from her skin. Drawing a cold bath, he set her inside the basin and began washing her, her face first, then her arms, then down her legs. Slow, focused, and tender.

He murmured apologies with every stroke of the cloth. “You stupid, stubborn elf,” he whispered. “Why the hell would you run off like that…?”

She whimpered once, flinching in her sleep, and he dropped the cloth instantly once he deemed her clean enough. Draining the basin, he dried her off and dressed her in one of her frilly night things she loved wearing and set her in bed.

Brushing the damp strands from her forehead, he stared at her. “I’ve got you now,” he said, voice softer than it had any right to be. “You’re not gonna die, you hear me?”

Her face was hot. The fever was bad. He covered her with dry blankets and sat with her through the night, pressing fresh cloths to her forehead every time the others cooled, watching her chest rise and fall with something like desperation etched across his features.

For once, he didn’t think about witches. He didn’t think about battle, or blood, or how much he hated this damned, twisted world with its endless war and its ugly truths. He only thought of her. Rosie lay beneath the blankets, still as death, her fevered breathing the only sign she hadn’t slipped away from him. The faint, steady rise and fall of her chest was a rhythm he clung to more than he dared admit. Her usually bright features were pale and flushed, beads of sweat clinging to her brow. Even in sleep—feverish, half-delirious—she looked… gentle. Fierce. Fragile.

And something inside him twisted. Tight. He hated that feeling, hated how unfamiliar it was. The realization hit him like a blade to the chest: he was growing attached to her. The elf who talked too much. Who smiled in the face of death. Who drank her wine too fast and flirted like it was breathing. Who rushed into battle for him. Because of him. Now here she was—unconscious and half-dead—because he had let his guard down, because he hadn’t gone after her sooner.

“Shit,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face, eyes never leaving her.

He had spent years keeping people at a distance. Letting no one in. Partners came and went. Allies died. Friends turned into corpses or enemies. But she was different and that frightened him more than anything else.

Sunlight filtered in through the small, warped glass window, soft and warm where it touched the bed. Rosie stirred, shifting beneath the blankets, her face twisting in discomfort as she blinked slowly, as if trying to make sense of the world around her. “…mmnnh…” Her voice was weak. and groggy. Her head turned, gaze unfocused. “Where…?”

The door creaked open, Katsuki entered with a tray balanced in one hand—fresh bread, a boiled egg, and a bowl of warm broth that steamed in the morning light. “You’re awake,” he said flatly, shutting the door behind him with his foot.

Rosie blinked again. “Katsuki…?”

He crossed the room in a few quick strides, setting the tray down on the bedside table. “You nearly got yourself killed,” he snapped, not yelling—but close. “Running off like that. You burned through every drop of magic you had. You passed out in the middle of a corpse field, drenched, bleeding, and feverish.”

Rosie shrank slightly under the intensity of his glare. “I was mad,” she murmured, sheepish.

“No shit,” he muttered, folding his arms.

“I didn’t think it’d get that bad—”

“Obviously,” he cut her off, voice a little too sharp, before sighing heavily and looking away. “…Tch. Dammit.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, scowling at the floor. Then, after a beat, his voice softened. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. “For yesterday. For… everything I said. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t matter. I wasn’t trying to leave you behind.”

Rosie blinked at him, still hazy with fever, but her eyes softened.

Katsuki didn’t look at her.“I just—” he hesitated, jaw tight, “I saw him. My old mentor. And it felt real. Too real. And for a second, I thought maybe dying there would’ve made things right.” He finally looked at her then. “I was wrong.”

Silence hung between them. Rosie slowly reached out from beneath the blanket, her fingers brushing his wrist. “You came after me,” she said simply.

“…Of course I did,” he muttered, eyes flicking to the touch. “What the hell else was I gonna do? Let you die in the dirt like some idiot?”

A weak smile tugged at her lips. “You’re still yelling at me.”

“You deserve it,” he snapped—then paused. “But… maybe not right now.” He gently lifted the tray and placed it across her lap. “Eat. And rest. We’re not taking another job until you’re walking straight again.”

She looked up at him, warm despite her paleness. “So you do care.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t push your luck, woman.”

But there was no heat in his voice, only something quieter, and tangible.

Chapter Text

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden light over the trail as Katsuki and Rosie rode side by side. Rosie, slumped in her saddle, was clearly suffering from the aftermath of their night in the tavern. Her face was pale, her movements sluggish, and, for once, she was silent. No humming, no giggling, no talking—just the soft, labored sound of her breathing.

Katsuki glanced at her, frowning. She looked miserable, her usually vibrant energy replaced with exhaustion. Her smile, though still present, was weak, and her posture was that of someone barely holding on.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself. She was clearly in no shape to continue, but she was too stubborn to ask for a break. As much as it irritated him to stop when they had ground to cover, letting her collapse off the horse would be an even bigger hassle.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, pulling on his reins and slowing his horse to a stop. Rosie blinked, confused, but didn’t object as he dismounted.

“We’re stopping,” he grunted, his voice sharp but not unkind.

Rosie looked down at him, her eyes dull with fatigue. “I’m fine, really—”

“Shut up,” Katsuki interrupted, already grabbing the reins of her horse. “You’re not fine. You look like you’re about to fall off. Get down.”

She blinked again, hesitating, but then slowly dismounted, her movements clumsy and tired. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she wobbled slightly, and Katsuki reached out instinctively to steady her.

“Idiot,” he muttered again, more to himself than to her.

He led her over to a shady spot near a cluster of trees and practically forced her to sit down. She sank onto the grass with a sigh, leaning back against one of the trees, her eyes half-closed.

“Just… need a minute,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki grumbled, already moving to set up camp. He wasn’t much of a cook, but he knew she needed something in her stomach. While she rested, he rummaged through his supplies and pulled out what little food they had left—some bread, dried meat, and a few vegetables he had picked up from the last town. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

As he worked, his mind wandered back to the events of last night. Despite how much Rosie annoyed him at times, there was something about her that made it hard for him to walk away. She was stubborn, cheerful to a fault, and way too kind for her own good. But she was also the first person in a long time who didn’t treat him like a monster. That thought alone was enough to keep him by her side, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Katsuki stirred the small pot over the fire, watching the food cook slowly. He wasn’t exactly the nurturing type, but taking care of Rosie felt strangely… natural. He’d never say it out loud, though.

Just as the stew was starting to bubble, a loud crash echoed through the trees, startling both of them. Katsuki immediately jumped to his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to attack.

“What the—” Katsuki’s words were cut off as something—or rather, someone—came crashing through the foliage, landing with a thud in the middle of their small clearing.

It was a young man, disheveled and clearly injured. His green hair was matted with dirt and blood, and his clothes were torn and ragged. He groaned in pain, struggling to push himself up from the ground.

Rosie, despite her own exhaustion, gasped and immediately pushed herself to her feet. “Oh no!” she cried, rushing over to the injured stranger. “Are you alright?”

Katsuki scowled, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the man. “Deku?” he growled under his breath. Of all the people to stumble into their camp, it had to be him.

Deku looked up weakly, his face pale from blood loss. “K-Kacchan…?” he muttered, clearly dazed.

Rosie knelt beside him, already pulling out a small pouch of herbs and bandages from her pack. “You’re hurt badly,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. “Let me help.”

Katsuki crossed his arms, glaring at the scene before him. “Tch. Leave him. He’s tough enough to heal on his own.”

“Katsuki!” Rosie snapped, her voice sharper than he’d ever heard it. She glared up at him, her eyes blazing with determination despite her fatigue. “He’s hurt. I’m not just going to leave him like this.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—he did care, more than he’d ever admit—but Rosie was in no condition to be playing nursemaid to anyone, let alone Deku. She could barely stand on her own, and here she was, tending to someone else like it was her responsibility.

“You’re not even feeling good yourself,” he muttered, his voice low. “You should be resting, not wasting energy on this idiot.”

Rosie didn’t answer him. She was too focused on Deku, her hands moving with surprising precision as she cleaned his wounds and applied herbs to the worst of them. Deku winced but didn’t protest, his eyes fluttering shut as he let Rosie work.

Katsuki scowled, feeling a strange knot of frustration tighten in his chest. He didn’t understand why it bothered him so much to see her taking care of Deku, especially when she was the one who needed care. He hated the way it made him feel—this mix of anger and… something else. Something he couldn’t name.

But despite his irritation, he didn’t stop her. He couldn’t. Instead, he turned back to the fire, stirring the pot with more force than necessary, his jaw clenched.

After what felt like an eternity, Rosie finally sat back, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “There,” she said softly, her voice tired but satisfied. “That should help. He needs rest, though. Lots of it.”

Katsuki let out a low growl, still refusing to look at her. “You’re the one who needs rest,” he muttered under his breath.

Rosie smiled faintly, her eyes softening as she glanced at him. “I’ll rest soon, I promise,” she said, her voice gentle. “But I couldn’t just leave him like that.”

Katsuki didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to. Instead, he just focused on the stew, ladling some into a bowl and shoving it into her hands. “Eat,” he ordered, his tone rough but filled with a silent concern.

Rosie blinked, surprised by the sudden gesture, but smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s eyes flicked over to where Deku lay, catching the way Rosie was smiling at him. His stomach churned with an unfamiliar tightness. His jaw clenched as Rosie returned Deku's smile, oblivious to the slight tension that rippled through Katsuki.

“Thank you, miss, for helping me,” Deku said softly, his face pale but his eyes still warm and grateful. “My name is Izuku.”

Rosie smiled warmly, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she leaned forward. “I’m Rosie,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s no trouble at all. I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

Deku shifted slightly, wincing as he tried to sit up straighter. “I really appreciate it. You’re very kind.”

Katsuki growled under his breath, the words scraping the back of his throat. “Tch. Stop thanking her like you’re some helpless idiot.”

Rosie blinked, turning to Katsuki with a curious look. “Do you two know each other?”

At that question, Katsuki’s entire body went rigid. He could practically feel the blood drain from his face, though he did his best to keep his expression neutral. His mind raced, a small flicker of panic igniting in his chest.

Rosie tilted her head, waiting for an answer, and Katsuki’s brain screamed at him to come up with something, anything. He cleared his throat, doing his best to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, we, uh... we worked a job together. Couple years back,” he grumbled, waving his hand as if it was no big deal. “That’s all.”

Rosie’s eyes widened slightly, curiosity flashing across her face. “Oh? What kind of job?” she asked, her voice light and casual, though there was clear interest in her tone.

Katsuki opened his mouth, trying to come up with something, but before he could speak, Deku chimed in, clearly picking up on Katsuki’s discomfort.

“Yeah, it was just a small job,” Deku said quickly, his voice calm and smooth, playing along with Katsuki’s story. “A simple monster-hunting contract. We didn’t really spend much time together, just worked together briefly. Since then we have run into one another every couple of months.”

Katsuki shot Deku a sharp glance, silently warning him to keep it vague. Deku, in turn, gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Rosie looked between the two of them, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I see,” she said slowly. “Well, it’s good that you had each other to work with.”

Katsuki let out a quiet breath of relief, though his shoulders remained tense. He didn’t want to get into the messy details of his past with Deku. Their history was complicated, and the last thing he wanted was to open up old wounds—especially not in front of Rosie.

Rosie, thankfully, didn’t push the matter further. Instead, she turned her attention back to Deku, her voice gentle. “So, what happened to you? You looked like you were in pretty bad shape when you fell into our camp.”

Deku sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, uh… I ran into a bit of trouble with some bandits. Tried to help a caravan that was being attacked, but they had more men than I anticipated. I managed to fight them off, but… well, you can see how that went.”

Rosie frowned in concern, her hands moving instinctively to check his bandages. “You’re lucky you made it out alive,” she said softly, her voice laced with worry.

Deku chuckled weakly. “Yeah, I suppose so. I’m just grateful I found you two when I did.”

Katsuki, who had been watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, finally stood up, brushing the dirt from his pants. “Tch. Enough with the sappy crap,” he grumbled. “You’re patched up now. You’ll be fine.”

Rosie shot him a disapproving look, but Katsuki ignored it, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn’t like how easily Deku had slipped into their camp, how quickly Rosie had gone from taking care of herself to fussing over someone else. It irritated him, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way Deku had smiled at her, or the way Rosie had been so quick to help him, even when she herself was barely standing.

Still, he couldn’t say anything. Deku had played along with his story, and for that, Katsuki was grudgingly grateful. As much as it annoyed him to have Deku there, it was better than Rosie knowing the real history between them.

Rosie finished checking Deku’s bandages and sat back on her heels, her gaze still filled with concern. “You should rest some more,” she said softly. “We’ll keep an eye on you until you’re strong enough to move.”

Deku nodded, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Rosie. You’re too kind.”

Katsuki scoffed, turning away from the two of them. “Tch. Don’t get used to it, Deku,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real malice in his voice.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a golden hue over the forested landscape, Katsuki crouched beside the dwindling fire, stuffing the last of their things into his pack. His jaw was clenched, and his movements were curt, frustration bubbling under the surface. He could hear Rosie chatting lightly with Deku behind him, and the sound grated on his nerves for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.

“How are you feeling?” Katsuki asked over his shoulder, his voice gruff as he stood and brushed off his hands.

Rosie smiled at him, her cheeks flushed with the remnants of warmth from the fire. “Much better, thank you for being kind.”

Katsuki grunted in response, his usual aloofness masking the subtle concern he’d shown earlier when she wasn’t feeling well. As he turned to continue packing, he heard Rosie speak again, this time addressing Deku.

“Would you like to join us in the Adventurer’s Guild? We just finished a job and were on our way to get another.”

Katsuki’s movements stilled. What the hell was she doing? His eyes narrowed as he straightened up and shot a glare toward Rosie, his annoyance flaring. Why was she inviting that idiot along with them? The last thing he needed was to drag Deku along, especially after what happened last night. His presence was already an unnecessary complication.

Deku chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “That would be great! I’d love to join you guys. It’s been a while since I’ve worked with others.”

Katsuki’s brow twitched. Damn it. He shot Rosie a look that was clearly saying, Why the hell are you doing this?

“We only have two horses,” Katsuki said, his voice tight with frustration as he gestured toward the animals. “So, good luck keeping up.”

But Rosie, ever the optimist, gasped softly. “Oh, you’re right! Please, take my horse, Deku. I can walk.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened. “You idiot, you can’t walk the entire way,” he snapped. His voice was gruff, but there was an edge of genuine concern beneath it.

Rosie smiled, brushing off his irritation. “We elves have vast endurance and speed. I’ll be fine, Katsuki.”

He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. She was too damn stubborn for her own good. Without a second thought, he mounted his horse and walked it right beside her. Before Rosie could protest, Katsuki reached down, grabbed her by the waist, and hoisted her up with ease, placing her firmly in front of him on the saddle.

“Stop being a pain in the ass,” he grumbled. “You’re riding with me.”

Rosie blinked in surprise but quickly relaxed, a small smile tugging at her lips. She made no further argument, leaning back slightly against him, seemingly content with her new spot.

Deku watched the entire exchange with raised brows but said nothing. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he mounted Rosie’s horse and fell into pace beside them.

As they rode through the darkening woods, Deku’s curiosity got the better of him. He glanced over at Rosie, who was perched comfortably in Katsuki’s arms. “I’ve never met an elf before,” Deku said softly, his eyes flickering with interest. “Where are you from, Rosie?”

Rosie’s expression softened, and she turned her head slightly to look at him. “I’m from the Silven realm,” she answered with a gentle smile. “It’s far past the Whispering Mountains, deep within the forests. It’s a hidden place, shrouded in magic to protect it from the outside world.”

Deku’s eyes widened in fascination. “The Silven realm? I’ve heard stories about it. It must be beautiful.”

Rosie nodded. “It is. Our forests are ancient, filled with trees that have stood for millennia. It’s peaceful there, but… I wanted to see the world outside of it. That’s why I left.”

Katsuki, who had been silently listening to the conversation, rolled his eyes. “Tch. You sound like you miss it.”

Rosie chuckled softly. “I do, sometimes. But I’m glad I left. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met you.” She smiled up at Katsuki, her tone light, though he could hear the sincerity in her words.

Katsuki’s grip tightened slightly on the reins, his eyes flicking away from her. “Yeah, well, don’t get all sappy.”

As the conversation lulled and the forest grew darker, the rhythmic movement of the horse and the warmth of Katsuki’s body behind her seemed to lull Rosie into a peaceful state. Before long, she was slumped slightly against him, her head nodding as she drifted off to sleep.

Katsuki felt her weight shift, her breathing becoming slow and even. He glanced down, frowning as he noticed her slipping lower in the saddle. Without a word, he adjusted her position, carefully turning her so that her body was facing his, her head resting against his chest.

His arms instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close as she slept. Her breath was warm against his skin, her soft hair brushing against his neck. Katsuki’s face turned slightly red as he realized how intimate their position was, but he didn’t move her.

He could feel the steady beat of her heart against his chest, the warmth of her body soothing in the cool night air. For a moment, he allowed himself to relax, letting the tension in his muscles ease as they rode through the silent forest.

Deku, riding beside them, glanced over and smiled softly at the sight. He said nothing, choosing to leave them in peace as the three of them traveled toward the next town.

As the night deepened and the stars blinked into the sky, Katsuki looked down at Rosie, her face peaceful in sleep. His grip on her tightened slightly, a strange warmth blooming in his chest.

Katsuki glanced down at Rosie, still fast asleep in his arms, her soft breathing barely audible against the quiet backdrop of the darkening woods. Her slender frame was curled against him, her cheek resting lightly on his chest, while her usual attire—a loose, flowing tunic and tight-fitted shorts—did little to protect her from the chill of the night air.

He grumbled under his breath, annoyed with the way her clothes left so much skin exposed. Stupid elf and her need to show skin, he thought with a scowl. She’d probably grown too used to her magical homeland, where the weather was likely more forgiving. Out here, though, it was different. Especially at night, when the cold seeped in like a living thing, biting at his skin despite his own naturally higher body temperature.

Carefully, Katsuki adjusted his black cloak, making sure it draped over Rosie’s small frame. He tugged it tighter around her shoulders, the heavy fabric shielding her from the cold. Her bare arms and the neckline of her tunic vanished beneath its dark folds, and he felt a small sense of satisfaction at knowing she wouldn’t freeze because of her own carelessness.

“Always gotta make things harder,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing in mock irritation. His hand brushed against her arm as he made sure the cloak covered every inch of exposed skin, and he flinched slightly at how cool she felt. Without thinking, his grip on her tightened, his body heat naturally radiating outward to provide her with more warmth.

Rosie stirred slightly in her sleep, snuggling unconsciously closer to him, as if seeking out the warmth he provided. Her soft hair brushed against his chin, and the subtle scent of wildflowers and pine that always seemed to linger around her filled his senses. Katsuki’s face flushed, and he mentally cursed himself for the way his heart reacted, beating just a little too fast for comfort.

“Damn elf,” he whispered to himself, but there was no real malice in his voice—just a strange, unfamiliar tenderness he couldn’t quite suppress.

As the horse continued its steady pace through the forest, Katsuki sighed, his gaze drifting down to the peaceful expression on Rosie’s face.

The cloak settled around her more snugly, Katsuki made sure every edge was securely fastened before pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. The cold night wind rustled the branches overhead, but he hardly felt it anymore, too focused on the warmth of Rosie’s body against his and the strange comfort that came from holding her close.

Finally, Deku broke the quiet, his voice soft but pointed. “Why did you want me to lie about how we truly met, Kaa-chan?”

Katsuki scowled, his grip tightening on the reins of his horse. The nickname grated on his nerves as always, but it was the question that truly got under his skin. He cast a quick glance down at Rosie, making sure she was still asleep before grunting in response.

“Her and I just met two weeks ago,” he muttered, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation.

But Deku wasn’t one to back down easily. He hummed thoughtfully before pressing on. “Still, you didn’t have to lie. Why not just tell her the truth?”

Katsuki let out a low growl, his temper rising. “Just because she’s my partner doesn’t mean I’m gonna start spilling all my damn secrets,” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous, careful not to wake Rosie. His crimson eyes flickered with irritation as he caught the faint, cheesy smile spreading across Deku’s face.

Deku tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with curiosity. “Does this mean you’re ready to go home?” he asked, a touch of something deeper in his tone.

Katsuki’s head whipped toward him, his glare sharp enough to cut. “No way in hell am I going back,” he hissed, his voice fierce and defensive. “And I sure as hell ain’t gonna fulfill that silly old man’s demand.” His jaw clenched at the thought of it. The idea of returning home, of facing the responsibilities and expectations waiting for him there, made his blood boil.

Deku’s expression softened, but there was a knowing look in his eyes. “You’ve been away for over a decade now, Kaa-chan. Don’t you think it’s time?”

“Shut up, Deku,” Katsuki snapped, his voice like fire. “You don’t know a damn thing about what I want. I left for a reason, and I’m not going back just because some old bastard says so.”

Deku’s smile faded into something more solemn, his gaze drifting down the road ahead. “You’re wrong,” he said quietly. “I know more than you think. I know how much you’ve carried on your own all these years. I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong anywhere, no matter where you go.”

Katsuki stiffened at the words, his grip tightening on Rosie as if to anchor himself. Deku didn’t know. He couldn’t know. The truth of their past was buried too deep, hidden under layers of pride and pain. The battles they had fought together, the wars they had survived—it was all part of a history Katsuki wasn’t ready to revisit. Not yet.

“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki growled again, but his voice lacked the bite it usually carried.

Deku sighed softly, his gaze softening as he looked back at Katsuki. “You don’t have to be alone anymore, you know. I didn’t think you would have someone traveling with you again, but it’s clear she means something to you.”

“She doesn’t mean anything,” Katsuki shot back defensively, his cheeks flushing with heat, though he kept his voice low to avoid waking Rosie. “She’s just...useful. That’s all.”

Deku smiled again, a quiet, understanding smile. “Sure, Kaa-chan. Whatever you say.”

Katsuki felt his irritation bubble up again, but he forced it down, focusing instead on the rhythmic sound of his horse’s hooves hitting the dirt road. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation—not Deku, not Rosie, not anyone. He had left his home behind for a reason, a reason that he wasn’t about to discuss. Not with Deku. Not with anyone.

As if sensing his internal struggle, Deku’s voice broke through his thoughts again, quieter this time. “Whatever you’re running from, it won’t follow you forever. One day, you’ll have to face it, Kaa-chan. Whether you like it or not.”

Katsuki didn’t respond. Instead, he clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed on the horizon as the night continued to deepen around them.

For now, he could stay on this path—stay with Rosie, do the jobs, keep moving forward. But he knew, in the pit of his stomach, that Deku was right.

Eventually, he would have to stop running.

Chapter Text

Rosie woke slowly, warmth surrounding her, her cheek pressed against something firm and solid. Blinking groggily, she realized that she was nestled in Katsuki’s arms, his strong grip steadying her in the saddle. As her senses returned, her gaze drifted upward, meeting his crimson eyes that stared down at her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Her ears twitched involuntarily, a soft blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks.

Katsuki, noticing her twitching ears, finally broke his gaze and focused on them, smirking as they flicked nervously.

“Thank you for letting me sleep,” Rosie beamed, her voice light as she tried to ease the tension. “I appreciate it.”

Katsuki grunted, his voice low and teasing, “You move around too much when you sleep.”

Her face burned even brighter at the comment, and she straightened up a bit, protesting, “That’s not true!”

He smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a rare, almost playful expression. “It’s true. You were wiggling around so much I thought you’d fall off the damn horse.”

Rosie narrowed her eyes, her jaw clenching in defiance. “I’ll prove you wrong.”

Raising a brow, Katsuki leaned back slightly, his voice laced with amusement. “And how exactly are you gonna do that, Elf?”

Without missing a beat, Rosie blurted, “We’ll sleep together.”

The effect was immediate. Deku, riding ahead of them on Rosie’s horse, nearly choked on his breath, coughing loudly as his eyes widened in shock. Katsuki’s own eyes went wide for a split second, his brain processing her words before he scoffed, his expression quickly morphing into one of incredulity.

“You elves have no sense of propriety, do you?” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Rosie, realizing the implication of her words, flushed an even deeper red, her hands flying up defensively. “That’s not what I meant!”

Katsuki’s smirk only grew wider. “Sure, it isn’t.”

She puffed her cheeks in frustration, deciding it was best to adjust herself rather than argue further. Twisting in his arms, she settled so that her back was against his chest, avoiding his teasing gaze. As she did, her eyes caught sight of their surroundings, and her frustration quickly turned to excitement.

They were entering the city of Marllyn, its grand stone gates towering ahead of them, a wooden drawbridge lowering to allow their entry. The city was nestled at the base of the Everpine Mountains, famous for its intricate jewelry markets, something Rosie had heard of but never experienced. Her mood lifted instantly, and she could barely contain her enthusiasm.

“We’re here!” she exclaimed, her voice bright as she took in the sight of the bustling streets beyond the gates. “This is Marllyn! I’ve never been here before!”

She practically bounced in her seat, the exhaustion and hangover of the previous night forgotten in her eagerness. The city's markets stretched out before them, colorful stalls lining the cobblestone streets, their wares sparkling under the morning sun. Craftsmen shouted to potential buyers, showcasing shimmering gems and finely crafted weapons. Rosie’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of exploring.

As they passed through the gates, Deku turned back towards them, his voice friendly. “We should get some breakfast first,” he suggested, his own stomach rumbling after the long ride.

Rosie, however, had other plans in mind. “We should go to the markets and explore while we stock up on supplies!” she said excitedly, her hands clasping together.

Katsuki grumbled, his mood as sour as ever. “After that, we’re going to the guild to pick our next job. No point in wasting time.”

But Rosie wasn’t about to give in. She turned in the saddle, her eyes locking onto his as she smiled brightly, pleadingly. “We should stay and explore,” she repeated, her voice soft but persuasive. “I’ve never been here before, Katsuki. Let’s take a day.”

Katsuki stared down at her, his brow furrowed in frustration. She looked up at him with those wide, hopeful eyes, and for a moment, he considered shutting the idea down. It was a waste of time. But then he caught the small smile tugging at her lips, and before he could stop himself, he found himself relenting.

“Damn waste of time,” he muttered under his breath, scowling as he averted his eyes. “But fine.”

Rosie’s face lit up, her joy evident as she turned to Deku, practically bouncing in the saddle. “Hear that, Izuku?! We can explore a bit!”

Deku smiled warmly, his heart lifting at her enthusiasm. “That sounds like fun, Rosie. Let’s see what the markets have to offer.”

Rosie clapped her hands together in excitement, her eyes already scanning the vibrant streets as they made their way into the heart of the city. Meanwhile, Katsuki couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the scene, tugging the hood of his cloak lower over his face as they entered the bustling market square. Despite his grumbling, there was a small part of him that was glad to see Rosie smile.

After their meal, Katsuki grumbled as he made his way to secure rooms for the night. With only two available, he begrudgingly accepted the reality that he’d have to share a room with Deku. The idea of getting back on the road and picking up their next mission drove him forward. They needed rest and supplies, and for now, this was just a necessary inconvenience.

Once they had cleaned up, Deku rebandaging his wounds and changing out of his tattered clothes, the three of them left the inn, heading toward the bustling market square. Rosie, her energy renewed after the food and rest, bounced ahead of them, practically skipping from booth to booth as her eyes lit up at the various trinkets, crafts, and goods on display. Her joy was contagious, though Katsuki would never admit it, his crimson eyes following her as she moved from stall to stall with childlike excitement.

Katsuki huffed, his arms crossed over his chest as he hung back, keeping a watchful eye on Rosie. She was the embodiment of joy, clapping her hands as she examined a colorful scarf at one booth, then moving to admire a collection of sparkling gemstones at another. He didn’t know why she was so easily entertained, but watching her dart around, he realized she had a talent for finding wonder in even the simplest things. Deku, walking beside him, smiled softly, clearly enjoying Rosie’s enthusiasm.

“She’s really excited, huh?” Deku commented with a small chuckle.

Katsuki grunted, his eyes narrowing as Rosie haggled with a merchant over some exotic herbs. “She gets excited about everything.”

Rosie soon rejoined them, her hands full of small bags of herbs and spices. “These are going to come in handy for cooking on the road,” she explained with a satisfied grin. “And I got them for a bargain!”

Deku’s face brightened as they continued to stock up on supplies for the coming week. They visited several booths, picking up dried meats, bread, and cheese that would last for their journey. Katsuki made sure to grab more flint and a new whetstone for his blades, while Rosie found some cloth to repair her clothes and a few bottles of healing salve.

As they moved through the crowd, Deku spotted a stable at the edge of the market. “I think I’ll get myself a horse. That way, I won’t have to keep borrowing yours, Rosie.”

Rosie gave him a warm smile. “That’s a good idea, Izuku! It’ll make traveling easier.”

Katsuki watched as Deku made his way to the stable, carefully examining the available horses. After a bit of negotiating, Deku purchased a strong brown mare, her coat sleek and well-groomed. He led her out of the stable, beaming with pride as he mounted her for a quick test ride around the square.

Rosie clapped her hands again, delighted. “She’s beautiful! What are you going to name her?”

Deku thought for a moment, stroking the mare’s neck. “I think I’ll call her Astra.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Great. Now we’ve got a horse with a name.”

Deku ignored the jab, dismounting as he led Astra toward the inn to tie her up. “I’m going to get her settled at the inn’s stables. I’ll meet you two back there for dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Rosie said with a smile, her excitement still bubbling. “I think I’ll do some more sightseeing before we head back.”

Katsuki’s brow furrowed as he watched Deku walk away, leaving him alone with Rosie. “What the hell do you mean, ‘sightseeing’?”

Rosie’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at the city streets. “This is Marllyn! One of the biggest cities at the base of the Everpine Mountains. I want to see the jewelry district before we leave. You’re welcome to join me if you want.”

Katsuki let out a low growl, adjusting the straps on his gauntlets. “I don’t have time for your sightseeing.”

“Suit yourself,” she teased, already heading toward the glittering shops in the distance.

He stood there, watching her figure slip through the crowd, her white hair catching the sunlight as she made her way toward the district. A part of him knew he should follow her, even if just to keep an eye on her. Trouble had a way of finding her, and despite his grumbling, he wasn’t about to let her wander off alone.

Not yet, anyway.

With a grunt of frustration, Katsuki cursed under his breath and followed after her, keeping his distance as she weaved through the market’s busy streets.

Rosie’s eyes widened as she stepped into the heart of Marllyn’s famous jewelry district. The streets were lined with lavish displays, glittering under the golden light of the setting sun. Everywhere she turned, there were gems and precious metals reflecting vibrant colors—emeralds, sapphires, rubies, all crafted into breathtaking works of art. It was a sight that made her heart race with excitement.

As she wandered past the luxurious stalls, her gaze was drawn to one in particular. In the center of the display, perched on a delicate velvet cushion, was a stunning sterling silver choker. Its polished surface shimmered like liquid moonlight, and nestled within the intricate metalwork were alternating pink quartz and small diamonds, their facets catching the light in a soft, romantic glow. The pink quartz, with its soft rose hue, gave the piece an almost ethereal quality, while the diamonds twinkled like stars caught in a silver web.

Rosie’s breath hitched as she reached out tentatively, her fingertips grazing the cool surface of the choker. It was exquisite, delicate yet bold. The craftsmanship was impeccable, each stone perfectly set in place. Her reflection shimmered in the polished gems as she imagined how it would look around her neck, resting gently against her skin.

“You’ve got a good eye,” said the jeweler, an older man with silver hair and kind eyes. “That piece is one of a kind. Crafted with great care.”

Rosie looked up, smiling politely, though her thoughts were still with the choker. “It’s beautiful.”

The jeweler nodded. “The pink quartz is said to promote love and healing, and those diamonds were mined from the Everpine caverns themselves. It would look lovely on you.”

She bit her lip, considering for a moment. The choker was beyond lovely—it was stunning. But she was a traveler, not a noble or a lady of the court. It was impractical to spend so much on something as she was an adventurer now.

With a soft sigh, Rosie lowered her hand, her fingers curling away from the precious jewelry. “Maybe another time,” she said, offering the jeweler a small smile before turning away.

As she moved further down the street, her eyes still caught glimpses of glittering gems and delicate chains, but none held the same magic that the choker had. She pushed the thought from her mind, trying to focus on the other stalls ahead. There would be more beautiful things to see, she reminded herself, and besides, there were more practical matters at hand.

Her steps slowed as she approached another stall, this one filled with simpler, more rustic pieces. Intricate metal cuffs, adorned with gemstones in less refined settings, decorated the display. They were still beautiful in their own right, but none of them held the same allure as that silver choker.

Rosie let out a breath and forced herself to focus. There were more important things to spend her gold on, after all. And yet, as she wandered deeper into the market, she couldn’t quite shake the image of that delicate pink quartz and diamond choker from her mind.

Rosie entered the bustling tavern, the air filled with laughter and the rich aroma of hearty food. The warm glow from the lanterns illuminated the wooden beams overhead, casting a cozy atmosphere that invited weary travelers to relax. After dropping her new clothes off in her room, she quickly made her way to the bar, where she ordered a round of pints, a hearty turkey leg, and a side of mashed potatoes with steamed green beans.

She spotted Deku and Katsuki sitting at a large wooden table in the corner, their expressions contrasting sharply. Deku looked eager and animated, while Katsuki was sunk in his chair, arms crossed and an annoyed scowl on his face. Rosie grinned as she approached, setting the drinks down with a flourish.

“I ordered the first round!” she announced, taking her seat across from them.

“Thank you!” Deku smiled brightly, his green eyes sparkling with gratitude as he took a pint in hand.

Katsuki grunted in acknowledgment, not bothering to lift his gaze from the table. “You should’ve gotten me something stronger,” he muttered, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe next time,” Rosie replied with a teasing glint in her eye. She looked to Deku, “So, what do you think our next mission should be? We’ve had a pretty good streak so far.”

Deku nodded, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I heard there’s been some trouble at the outskirts of town. Some farmers have been reporting strange creatures attacking their livestock. It might be a good opportunity for us to investigate.”

Rosie perked up at the suggestion. “That sounds interesting! We could help the farmers and find out what’s causing the disturbances. Plus, we might get some good rewards for it!”

Katsuki finally looked up, his expression still grumpy. “Or we could find something more exciting. We’re not babysitters.”

Deku frowned slightly but didn’t back down. “But it could lead to something bigger! We might uncover a bigger threat if we investigate.”

“Yeah, like a bunch of giant rats or something,” Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Rosie chimed in, “we should keep it in mind when we visit the guild tomorrow.”

Katsuki leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms stubbornly. “Keh, whatever.”

After a few more rounds of drinks and lively banter, their food arrived. Rosie dug into her turkey leg with enthusiasm, savoring the rich flavors. Deku devoured his meal with the same fervor, while Katsuki merely picked at his plate, still seeming grumpy but slightly more relaxed.

As the night wore on, the tavern filled with more patrons, laughter echoing around them. They shared stories, and Deku animatedly recounted some of his past adventures, while Katsuki offered snarky remarks here and there, his demeanor softening as they all engaged in conversation.

Once they finished their meals, Rosie felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She reached for her pouch, deciding that she would take care of the bill for the night. “Alright, guys, I’ll cover this! You both were okay with staying so I could sightsee, so it’s only fair.”

Deku looked surprised. “Are you sure, Rosie?”

“Absolutely! You both deserve it,” she insisted, her eyes sparkling with determination. Katsuki started to protest, but she cut him off. “No arguments! I want to treat you.”

Katsuki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration, but he couldn’t hide the faintest hint of a smile. “You’re too damn stubborn.”

Deku smiled warmly at her. “Thanks, Rosie. This means a lot.”

“We’re friends!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over again.

Chapter Text

Since they set off that morning after choosing their next mission, Rosie had been chattering away, filling the air with her usual small talk. The three of them were headed east, towards the renowned Gypsy Bazaar, where the owners had been plagued by monthly raids from mercenaries. The job promised a hefty reward of 6,000 gold pieces if they could capture the bandits and bring them in. Katsuki had initially scoffed at the simplicity of it, but Rosie had been excited—her energy was as infectious as always.

Rosie turned in her saddle, her bright eyes focused on Izuku. “So, Izuku,” she began, her tone curious and cheerful, “have you been traveling alone all this time?”

Izuku laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Y-yeah. I’ve been traveling solo for a while. I was actually planning to head to the Adventurer’s Guild to find some companions for my next mission when, well, I kind of stumbled into your camp after my last job.”

“We’re glad to have you with us,” Rosie said warmly, flashing him a smile that radiated genuine kindness.

Izuku’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he smiled back. “Thanks, Rosie. I really appreciate it.”

Katsuki, riding just behind them, grumbled under his breath, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He shot an irritated glance at Rosie, clearly unimpressed by her friendliness toward Deku.

Rosie, well-accustomed to his grumbling by now, ignored him entirely and kept talking. “This mission seems pretty straightforward. I mean, we have to capture them, not kill them. But I wonder why they’re targeting the bazaar so often.”

Izuku nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe the mercenaries have a specific reason. It could be something beyond just money.”

“Or,” Katsuki finally spoke up, his voice gruff, “they’re just greedy bastards who think they can get away with robbing the place every month.”

Rosie glanced over her shoulder at Katsuki, her expression softening. “Maybe. Either way, we’ll get the job done.”

Katsuki grunted in response but didn’t say anything more, his gaze focused on the road ahead. Rosie knew better than to push him when he got like this. Instead, she simply nudged her horse closer to Deku’s and continued making small talk, the warmth of her voice keeping the atmosphere light despite Katsuki’s usual grumpiness.

As they continued their journey eastward, Rosie found herself growing more comfortable with the dynamic between the three of them. Deku, with his bright optimism and genuine nature, balanced out Katsuki’s gruffness. And despite his constant complaints, Katsuki hadn’t left—he still traveled with her, still watched her back, even if he pretended not to care.

Maybe, just maybe, they were becoming a real team.

“Why are you so mean to him?” Rosie asked Katsuki later that night when they made camp. Deku had left to go clean his wounds in the nearby river, leaving the two of them in camp, alone.

Katsuki just stared at her, hoping she would drop it.

She didn’t.

“It’s just how I am,” he shrugged.

Rosie frowned, “you’re nice to me.”

“It’s because you’ve saved my life.” He lied, “Nothing else to it.”

“I feel like that’s a lie.” She crossed her arms, “would it kill you to be a bit nicer to him?”

He deadpanned, “yes.”

Rosie shook her head, “you’re being ridiculous. He’s a part of our team now, it’s best that you learn to get along with him.”

Katsuki stopped brushing Dynamite, before he stood closer to her. He leaned his face towards her, noticing how her ears started twitching with her face growing pink. “And if I don’t?”

“I won’t talk to you.” She stood her ground despite the fact he could tell she was embarrassed.

Katsuki stood still for a moment, his crimson eyes narrowing as he watched Rosie cross her arms defiantly. Her face was pink, her lips pressed into a determined line, but her twitching ears betrayed her flustered state. He smirked, noticing how she tried so hard to maintain her composure. It amused him, and the temptation to push her just a little bit more was too strong to resist.

Leaning in even closer, he let his smirk grow wider. "You won’t talk to me, huh?" he teased, his voice dropping to a low, almost predatory tone. “That’s some punishment. You think I can’t handle a little silence?”

Rosie’s ears twitched even more, and she shifted her weight, refusing to back down. “You think I’m bluffing, Katsuki?” she shot back, her voice firm despite the blush deepening on her cheeks. “I’m serious. If you keep being mean to Izuku, I won’t talk to you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying how her confidence wavered under his gaze. “Oh yeah? And how long do you think you could keep that up, huh? You like talking too much.” His voice was soft but challenging, almost daring her to prove him wrong.

Rosie glared at him, though she could feel her resolve slipping under the intensity of his stare. He was too close—she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath faintly brushing against her skin. Her heart raced faster than she wanted to admit.

“You underestimate me,” she shot back, her voice slightly breathless. “I’m perfectly capable of ignoring you for as long as it takes.” She was proud of how steady her voice sounded, but internally, she was a mess.

Katsuki stopped brushing Dynamite, letting the brush fall to his side as he slowly approached Rosie. His eyes narrowed, watching the way her arms were crossed defensively in front of her, how her lips pressed together in that stubborn pout. He could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, and he knew she wasn’t as confident as she was trying to appear. Her twitching ears gave that away instantly.

Leaning down, he closed the gap between them, his face just inches from hers. His intense crimson eyes locked onto her, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Rosie’s heart skipped a beat as she stared back at him, her face growing hot. She swallowed, trying not to let him see how flustered she was, but it was hard to hide when he was this close—too close. She clenched her jaw, refusing to back down even as her blush deepened.

Katsuki leaned in a fraction more, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched her squirm under his gaze. “You really think you could ignore me? You’d miss me in less than a day, princess.”

Rosie’s ears twitched again, betraying her nerves as she clenched her fists tighter. “D-Don’t call me that,” she stammered, her blush deepening to a shade that matched her hair.

“What, princess?” he repeated, dragging the word out just to get under her skin more. “It suits you.”

Rosie’s eyes narrowed in frustration, her embarrassment giving way to irritation. “I’m not a princess, and you know it. And you’re avoiding the point—be nicer to Izuku.”

Katsuki scoffed again, standing up straighter but still keeping his smirk in place. “I’m not avoiding anything. He doesn’t need me to be nice to him.”

Rosie huffed, crossing her arms tighter. “Well, I need you to be. He’s a part of this team, and I don’t like seeing you treat him like that.”

Katsuki stared at her for a long moment, his smirk fading slightly. “You really care that much, huh?” His voice had lost some of its teasing edge, replaced by something quieter, more serious.

Rosie blinked, her frustration slipping away at the shift in his tone. She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I do. He’s… he’s a good person, Katsuki. And so are you, even if you don’t want people to know it.” Her voice softened as she spoke, her earlier determination melting into something more genuine.

For a brief moment, Katsuki didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her with an unreadable expression. Then, finally, he let out a low grunt and looked away. “Fine,” he muttered, turning back to Dynamite. “I’ll be nicer.”

Rosie blinked, surprised by how easily he conceded. “Really?”

“Don’t make me say it twice,” he growled, though there wasn’t any real anger in his voice.

Rosie smiled, her ears twitching again but this time out of relief. “Thank you.”

Katsuki didn’t respond, but she could see the way his shoulders relaxed slightly as he continued to brush Dynamite. Despite his gruff demeanor, she could tell he was trying, even if it was just for her.

And that, more than anything, made her feel warm inside.

The bazaar was eerily quiet as they arrived in the late afternoon. Sunlight bathed the empty stalls in a golden hue, but the usual bustle of traders, customers, and performers was nowhere to be seen. The place felt almost abandoned, with only the distant sound of a wind chime breaking the stillness. Rosie’s gaze shifted between the closed tents and dimly lit pathways, her curiosity piqued. She had heard much about the gypsy bazaar of the east—how it thrived during the night, a marketplace of mystery and magic. But seeing it like this, with everything shuttered, gave her an uneasy feeling.

Katsuki walked ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the area. Behind him, Deku followed, a little more relaxed but still attentive to their surroundings. Rosie, who had been trailing behind them, was suddenly drawn to a figure approaching from the shadows of a large, ornate tent. The woman who emerged was striking, her tan skin glowing against the fading daylight. Her dark, mysterious eyes caught Rosie’s attention immediately, and the long, flowing fabrics of her traditional gypsy dress whispered softly as she walked toward them. There was an air of grace about her, but also one of caution.

“Elywne, right?” Katsuki spoke up first, his voice gruff, breaking the silence as the woman approached.

Elywne nodded, offering a faint but warm smile. “Yes, I am Elywne,” she said, her voice smooth and calm. “Welcome to our bazaar, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Rosie studied the woman as she greeted them. Her features were striking, with long black hair braided down her back and an intricate silver necklace adorned with gemstones resting against her chest. But it was her eyes that stood out the most—dark and full of secrets, the kind of eyes that had seen much more than they let on.

“The owner of the bazaar—your grandfather—he’s the one who hired us,” Deku added, stepping forward politely.

Elywne nodded, her expression growing somber. “Yes. My grandfather, Aramis, has been running this bazaar for decades. But in recent months, we’ve been plagued by these mercenaries. They come every month, like clockwork. They watch the performances, as if they’re just customers, but at one in the morning—without fail—they strike.”

Rosie frowned, glancing between her companions. “Do they always come in a large group?”

Elywne shook her head. “No. That’s what makes it difficult. It’s never the same people twice, and they vary in numbers. Sometimes there are five, sometimes ten. But they all bear a strange insignia on their inner wrists, and that’s the only consistent thing about them.”

Katsuki’s gaze narrowed. “Insignia, huh? And you’re sure it’s always different mercenaries?”

Elywne’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “Yes. We’ve tried to catch them, to find out who’s behind these attacks, but they’re clever. They never send the same group twice. And no one outside this bazaar seems to know anything about the insignia. It’s like they vanish after they rob us.”

Rosie’s brows furrowed. “And what do they take?”

“Everything of value,” Elywne replied with a sigh. “Jewels, rare artifacts, money. They’ve crippled our business. We barely make enough to get by now, and the fear is starting to drive people away. If this continues, the bazaar will have to close.”

A heavy silence fell between them, the weight of the situation sinking in. Rosie could feel a twinge of sympathy for Elywne and her family. The bazaar was clearly important to them, not just as a business but as a way of life.

“When’s the next attack likely to be?” Katsuki asked, his tone growing more serious, all business now.

Elywne hesitated for a moment before responding. “Tonight. That’s why we reached out for help. They’ve been striking at the same time every month. We’ve learned their pattern. They’ll be here at one in the morning, just after our main show finishes.”

Deku folded his arms thoughtfully. “And they always come during the show?”

“Yes,” Elywne confirmed. “They blend in with the crowd, watch the performance, and then, when we’re distracted with packing up, they strike. They’ve become so bold that they even sit front row, knowing no one can stop them.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, irritation crossing his face. “So we let them think it’s business as usual tonight. They won’t know we’re here.”

Elywne’s eyes brightened slightly at his words, though there was still a lingering fear in them. “That’s what we were hoping for. We don’t want more violence, but we can’t let them keep destroying our livelihood.”

Rosie glanced at Katsuki and Deku before speaking again. “We’ll help you, Elywne. We’ll be ready when they come tonight.”

Katsuki grunted in agreement. “And we’ll make sure whoever’s behind this pays.” He turned to Deku, who nodded back in silent understanding.

Elywne gave a soft, grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll take you to where you will be staying.”

Katsuki stood with his arms crossed, glaring impatiently at the closed curtains of the changing tent. He hated this plan, hated how Elywne’s idea involved throwing Rosie right into the lion’s den. Why did Rosie have to be the one to risk herself again? Why couldn’t it be someone else? Someone less… fragile. Of course, Rosie would argue she wasn’t fragile, but Katsuki wasn’t buying it. She had little sense of self-preservation, constantly throwing herself into danger for the sake of these stupid missions.

He clenched his fists, hearing the rustling of fabric behind the curtain, his annoyance mounting. “Are you done in there?” Katsuki growled, his tone harsher than intended.

He was met with silence for a moment, then the soft sound of footsteps approaching. When Rosie finally stepped out from behind the silk curtains, Katsuki’s breath hitched in his throat.

She stood before him, transformed. Her practical clothing was replaced by a costume that exposed far too much skin for his liking. The pink silk top she wore was strapless, adorned with delicate silver details, leaving her shoulders, navel, and smooth abdomen entirely exposed. Her legs were barely covered by the flowing skirt that seemed more like an accessory than an actual piece of clothing. Her hair, usually free or simply braided, was intricately pinned up with jeweled hair sticks that shimmered in the light. And her face—painted with subtle but seductive makeup—only enhanced the natural beauty he had always noticed but never commented on.

Katsuki’s mouth went dry, and for a second, he couldn’t find his voice.

“Well?” Rosie asked, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness as she shifted slightly, running her hands down the silk fabric. “Do I look okay?”

Katsuki’s brain finally kicked into gear, and all he could focus on was how utterly wrong it felt for her to be dressed like this, exposed to the world. “You need to change,” he demanded, his voice sharp and almost panicked.

Rosie’s brow furrowed in confusion, her face falling slightly. “What? Why?”

“Because—” Katsuki struggled for the right words, his eyes narrowing. He couldn’t tell her that the sight of her dressed like this was making it hard for him to think straight, and that the idea of other men looking at her the same way made his blood boil. “Because it’s too revealing,” he finally snapped. “You’ll stand out too much.”

Rosie frowned, crossing her arms over her chest, her exposed skin catching the dim light of the tent. “Elywne said I looked beautiful. She said this would help me blend in with the performers.”

Katsuki swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. Elywne wasn’t wrong—Rosie did look beautiful, more than beautiful, in fact—but that was the problem. She looked too beautiful, and he hated the thought of her being out there, in the middle of a dangerous situation, dressed like that with the eyes of mercenaries all over her.

“It’s not safe,” he muttered, his voice lower now, more strained.

Rosie tilted her head, studying his face. “You’re worried, aren’t you?” she asked, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll be fine, Katsuki. I’m just there to find the mercenaries with the insignias, that’s all. You and Deku will handle the rest.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re sticking out like a damn beacon,” he muttered, unable to meet her eyes. His gaze flicked up briefly, catching the soft flush on her cheeks and the way her ears twitched slightly—whether from embarrassment or something else, he didn’t know.

“I’ll be careful,” Rosie said, her voice gentle as she took a step closer to him. “I promise.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. He wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that he didn’t trust this plan or these people or even Deku enough to protect her, but the look on her face stopped him. She was determined. She believed in the mission, in her ability to help, and that stubborn determination was one of the things he admired about her—even if it drove him crazy.

“You’re not changing, are you?” he finally asked, his voice resigned.

“No,” she replied with a small smile. “I’m not.”

Katsuki huffed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But if anything goes wrong, I’m pulling you out of there. Got it?”

Rosie’s smile grew, and she nodded. “Got it.”

“Good.” Katsuki turned abruptly, trying to mask the strange warmth rising in his chest. “And cover up as much as you can until the damn show starts. You’re going to catch a cold,” he muttered under his breath, pulling off his cloak and tossing it to her.

Rosie caught it, blinking in surprise before wrapping it around her shoulders. She watched as Katsuki stormed off toward the entrance of the tent, his movements stiff, as if he was trying to physically distance himself from the conversation.

She couldn’t help but smile softly to herself as she watched him go. Beneath all that gruffness, she could tell—he cared. Even if he’d never admit it.

Katsuki's eye twitched, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he stood on the sidelines, watching the performance unfold before him. Deku had been a stuttering mess earlier, barely able to make eye contact with Rosie as they went over the plan again. Katsuki couldn’t blame him—Rosie looked stunning, but that was precisely the problem. Now she was up there, front and center, captivating the entire crowd.

The dim lighting focused solely on the stage, making the large tent feel claustrophobic as the music swelled softly in the background. Rosie stood at the forefront, flanked by Elywne and three other dancers, all dressed in similar revealing costumes. The fabric shimmered under the stage lights, but Katsuki’s attention was solely on her—her every movement, every sway of her hips, every flicker of her sultry gaze.

His fists clenched as Rosie began her routine, moving with the rhythm of the music like she was born for it. Her usual grace had transformed into something more dangerous, something almost hypnotic. The crowd was eating it up, especially the men in the front row, who sat transfixed as the dancers descended from the stage to mingle with them.

Katsuki could feel his teeth grinding together as Rosie glided towards the front, singling out one man seated directly in the center. Her hips swayed as she approached him, her smile teasing, eyes dark with that same seductive look she’d had earlier. She leaned in, close enough to sit in his lap, and then turned her gaze—directly to Katsuki.

She winked.

Katsuki felt a jolt of fury twist in his gut. That was her signal—one mercenary down.

Rosie repeated the same routine with the other men in the front row, each of them practically drooling as they reached for her, their hands grazing her hips, her waist. And each time, she made sure to give Katsuki the signal: a small wink that only he could see.

Five mercenaries in total.

Katsuki signaled back to Deku, holding up five fingers. Deku nodded in return, discreetly pointing out the targets to the guards positioned nearby. The plan was in motion, but Katsuki couldn’t shake the feeling of dread gnawing at the back of his mind.

Something wasn’t right.

He edged closer to the front of the room, his eyes locked on Rosie, who was dancing just out of reach of the mercenaries’ greedy hands. But then the first man she had singled out—the one she’d sat on—suddenly stood, his face twisted with frustration. Katsuki tensed as the man stalked toward Rosie, his steps heavy with anger.

Before anyone could react, the man grabbed Rosie by the wrist, yanking her roughly toward him. Katsuki’s heart lurched as the bastard pulled out a knife, pressing it against her throat. The music stopped abruptly, and the crowd erupted into chaos—people screamed, chairs clattered as they overturned, and a frantic rush to the exits ensued.

Katsuki shoved his way through the panicking crowd, his eyes locked on Rosie, who was struggling against the man’s grip. Deku and the guards could handle the other mercenaries.

Katsuki only had one priority.

“Get your filthy hands off of her,” Katsuki growled, his voice low and dangerous as he finally reached them.

The man was handsome in a rugged way, but his scarred face twisted with malice as he forced Rosie in front of him, using her as a shield. The blade gleamed against her throat, and Katsuki’s chest tightened with rage.

“This elf?” the man sneered, his grip tightening on Rosie as he pulled her closer to his chest. “She’s mine. Do you even know how rare it is to find one like her? I could sell her for a fortune—or maybe I’ll just keep her for myself.”

Katsuki’s fists clenched, his nails biting into his palms. His eyes flicked to Rosie, and for a moment, their gazes locked. Her eyes were calm, but beneath that calmness, he could see the fear—the fear she was trying so hard to hide.

“Bastard,” Katsuki snarled. “Let. Her. Go.”

The man chuckled darkly, his other hand sliding over Rosie’s body, groping her in a way that made Katsuki’s vision blur with rage. “What are you gonna do, huh? You can’t touch me without hurting her.”

Katsuki was stuck. Any sudden move, and that knife would cut deep. His mind raced, trying to find an opening, but nothing presented itself. He cursed under his breath, feeling utterly useless.

“Katsuki,” Rosie’s voice broke through the tension, soft but steady.

“Rosie—”

“Oh, so you two know each other?” the man sneered again, his voice dripping with mockery. “How does it feel, huh? Knowing you can’t do a damn thing to save her? You’re just going to stand there and watch as I take her away?”

Katsuki growled, his patience snapping like a taut wire. “You’re not taking her anywhere.”

The man just laughed, clearly enjoying the control he had over the situation. “She’s mine now, and there’s nothing you can—"

Before he could finish, Rosie acted. With lightning speed, she twisted in his grip and sunk her teeth into the man’s arm, hard. The mercenary howled in pain, instinctively releasing his hold on her. He shoved her away, calling her a “bitch” as she stumbled back, but Katsuki was already there.

He caught her, pulling her out of the man’s reach, his arms wrapping around her protectively. “You okay?” he whispered, though his eyes were already locked back on the mercenary.

Rosie nodded, though her breath was shaky. “I’m fine.”

The mercenary glared at them both, cradling his bleeding arm. But his attention quickly shifted when he realized the rest of his men—the five Rosie had identified—were now in custody, being dragged away by Deku and the guards.

His eyes widened with panic. “Shit.”

Realizing he had no chance of winning, the mercenary turned on his heel and made a run for it, bolting toward the back of the tent.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Katsuki growled, his protective rage flaring.

He gently pushed Rosie aside before launching himself after the fleeing mercenary.

There was no way in hell that bastard was getting away.
Katsuki’s legs carried him with frightening speed, the fleeing mercenary barely making it out of the tent before Katsuki caught up with him. His hand shot out, gripping the back of the man’s collar and yanking him back with a force that sent him sprawling to the ground.

“You think you can run after pulling that shit?” Katsuki growled, looming over the man with a murderous glare.

The mercenary scrambled to his feet, but Katsuki was already on him, slamming a fist into the man’s face with such force that it knocked him back down. Blood sprayed from the man’s nose, and Katsuki wasted no time, landing blow after blow with a fury that left the man barely able to defend himself.

Each punch was fueled by the memory of that bastard putting a knife to Rosie’s throat. Touching her. Trying to take her away. The anger surged through him, burning hotter with each hit.

“Get up you fucking weakling!” Katsuki snarled, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and dragging him to his knees. “You’re not running anywhere, you piece of shit.”

The mercenary groaned, blood dripping from his mouth as he weakly raised his hands in surrender. But Katsuki wasn’t finished. He yanked the man up, landing a knee to his stomach that knocked the wind out of him. The man collapsed again, wheezing and clutching his gut.

Before Katsuki could land another blow, Deku appeared at his side, panting from his own chase. He quickly pulled out a set of handcuffs, stepping between Katsuki and the barely-conscious mercenary.

“That’s enough, Kacchan,” Deku said softly, his eyes serious as he knelt to cuff the mercenary’s wrists. “We’ve got him.”

Katsuki huffed, his chest heaving with adrenaline. He wiped the blood from his knuckles on the mercenary’s clothes, glaring down at him one last time. “You’re lucky Deku’s here,” he spat. “Or I’d keep going.”

Deku, ever patient, hauled the man to his feet, securing the cuffs tightly around his wrists. “You’re going back to face justice,” he told the mercenary before turning back to Katsuki. “Can you check on Rosie?”

Katsuki blinked, the haze of rage slowly dissipating as he remembered why he was so angry in the first place. “Tch. Yeah.”

Deku nodded and, with the help of the guards, dragged the handcuffed mercenary back toward the bazaar owner. Katsuki’s attention, however, was already on Rosie. He spotted her standing near the stage, her hand pressed to her throat.

His heart leaped into his throat as he quickly crossed the distance to her, his eyes narrowing as he saw the thin line of blood trickling down her neck.

“What the hell, Rosie?” he barked, grabbing her shoulders and inspecting her. “You’re bleeding!”

Rosie, to his surprise, smiled at him. “It’s just a small cut, Katsuki. Really, I’m fine.”

“Fine?” he snapped, his face darkening. “You call this fine? You’re bleeding because you put yourself in danger again, and for what? Just to get some intel?”

Rosie’s smile didn’t falter.

She looked up at him with those calm, bright eyes, as if nothing could shake her confidence. “I knew you would save me.”

Katsuki stared at her, his words catching in his throat. Her absolute trust in him left him speechless for a moment, the weight of it hitting him harder than any punch. He felt his frustration melt away, leaving only a deep sense of responsibility.

He let out a long breath, his voice softening just a bit. “You’ve gotta stop doing stupid stuff like that. I can’t always save your ass, you know.”

Rosie’s smile widened, and she reached up to touch his arm, her fingers gentle. “But you always do.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through him at her words. “Just… be more careful, alright? Next time, don’t put yourself on the front lines unless you have to.”

“I promise,” she said, still smiling up at him.

He grumbled under his breath, still annoyed but feeling more relieved now that she was okay. “You’re too reckless, I swear. One of these days…”

But Rosie just laughed softly, her hand still resting on his arm. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

“Tch,” he muttered, trying to play it off as he turned away slightly.

Still, the corner of his mouth twitched into a reluctant smile as he gave her one last look. She was reckless, sure, but he’d always be there to make sure she came out of it okay.

Chapter Text

No matter what race you were—elf, human, dwarf, tiefling, dragon, or even amazon—everyone had a Saint or Saintess to thank for their existence. Stories told of the Seven Saints, divine beings of light and power who breathed life into the realms and shaped each race in their image. In return, they asked for worship, offerings, songs and temples.

It wasn’t uncommon to find travelers pausing at sacred sites during long treks, leaving behind silver coins, food, or vials of mana-rich water. Izuku had insisted they stop at the temple ahead— absolutely insisted, going on about ancient texts and spiritual resonance and "once-in-a-lifetime alignments." Rosie had mostly tuned him out by the fifth enthusiastic ramble. She knew better than to argue when Izuku had that gleam in his eye. That man could drag a dragon to a library if he had a good enough reason.

Still, as they followed the winding forest path that led to the Temple of Eldenrenth, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease. It always struck her oddly—these holy places, these sacred legends carved into stone and sung across generations. Everyone seemed so certain of them. So devoted.

She was not.

The saddle creaked beneath her as she leaned forward against her horse’s neck, letting her fingers skim along its mane. The air was warm, thick with the earthy scent of sun-baked leaves and the faint promise of something ancient lingering ahead. She could already see the edge of the stone archway rising in the distance, ivy curling over it like lazy fingers.

Izuku’s voice drifted back to her, explaining in detail—for the third time—how Eldenrenth, Saint of Earth and Flame, had been the first of the Seven Saints. The eldest and most revered. He had formed the first humans from molten stone and cooled their bodies with breath pulled from the deepest roots of the world. He had given them elemental magic, the strength to shape it, and the will to stand tall in the chaos of early time.

“It’s said the temple ahead was carved directly into the bones of a fallen mountain,” Izuku was saying, gesturing with one hand as he rode. “And that when Eldenrenth’s followers chant the prayer of ignition, the flame in the heart of the altar lights with no fuel, only will.”

Rosie hummed noncommittally. Katsuki, riding beside her, snorted.

“If we’re not getting ambushed by cultists, mutated wildlife, or man-eating roots this time, I might actually fall asleep,” he muttered.

Rosie chuckled, brushing wind-blown hair from her face. “You sound disappointed.”

“I live to be disappointed.”

Despite herself, her gaze drifted past the trees, toward the towering entrance ahead. She could see the faded murals carved into the stone, worn by centuries of worship and weather. Humans had always been the most devout, hadn’t they? Fiercely loyal, fiercely faithful and they had the oldest Saint to show for it.

She sat up straighter in her saddle, heart flickering with old thoughts, and even older stories.

Her grandmother used to tell her that she had been born under the moon’s gaze, in the exact hour that the Saintess of Light, Stellalucewendë, had once appeared when she created the High elves and guided them  into the First Realm. That Rosie had been blessed, marked by fate and destiny.

“You were kissed by her light, child,” her grandmother would say, brushing her hair back and tapping her forehead. “You carry her magic, her spark. A Saintess’s echo in your soul.”

Rosie had loved those stories as a girl. She had imagined herself glowing with stardust, her hands pouring silver fire into the dark, her voice able to call storms into submission. She’d been told Stellalucewendë had created five realms for the elves—each a paradise of crystal rivers, twilight meadows, and celestial trees that whispered when the stars blinked.

But the older Rosie got, the more hollow those words became.

Saints didn’t stop wars. Saints didn’t shield villages from raids or protect young girls from growing up too fast. 

So Rosie had made a decision long ago. She would not wait for miracles. She would be her own Saint.

And yet…She glanced at Izuku, now practically bouncing with excitement as the temple came fully into view—a grand, weathered structure of stone and iron, its front steps flanked by statues of armored guardians holding up globes of flame that never seemed to extinguish. The air shifted subtly around them, humming with power.

She couldn’t deny the presence here. It was like stepping into a memory not her own.

Their horses stopped at the base of the temple steps. Izuku was off his mount in a blink, wide-eyed and reverent as he practically whispered, “It’s still intact… Gods, this altar—it’s older than any of the texts said.”

Katsuki dismounted with a sigh, muttering something about nerds and rock worship. Rosie slid off her horse more slowly, boots crunching against mossy stone.

She stood in front of the temple a moment longer than she meant to, staring at the twin flames burning above the door.

Maybe she didn’t believe in Saints. But the Saints seemed to believe in something and she was willing to listen. Just this once.

Just in case… some part of Stellalucewendë was watching.

Watching the girl who had been named in her image—who no longer knelt in worship, who no longer whispered prayers into starlit skies, but who still walked with light in her hands all the same.

“Are you alright?”

The voice cut through the haze of her thoughts, low and rough like a flint striking stone. Rosie blinked and turned. Katsuki stood a few steps below her, arms relaxed at his sides, though the sharpness in his gaze betrayed the weight behind his question.

She offered him a smile that she hoped masked the strange heaviness that had settled in her chest. “Yes,” she said softly. “Just thinking.”

His brow twitched but he didn’t press. Instead, his gaze lifted toward the temple behind her, the golden light of its ever-burning torches casting long shadows over the steps.

“Have you ever visited a temple before?” he asked.

She nodded and adjusted her traveling cloak, brushing a curl away from her cheek before reaching into her pack. Her fingers closed around a narrow piece of polished metal and she pulled it free—a hair stick of sterling silver, set with three tiny white diamonds and a single sapphire gemstone at the end, carved in the shape of a falling star.

“My mother insisted on paying tribute to our Saintess,” she murmured, running her thumb along the cool surface. “Every equinox, every solstice, she would braid my hair and pin it with this. Said it would bring favor, that the Saintess would see me.”

Katsuki stepped closer, watching as she held the delicate ornament between two fingers. “Saintess of Light,” he said, his voice dropping into something more solemn. “The youngest of the Seven. Her name is… Stellalucewendë, right?”

The elven name rolled off his tongue in that deep, gravel-edged tone of his—rough but careful, as if he were afraid of disrespecting the syllables. Rosie’s breath caught in her throat. She’d never heard her name spoken like that. Not her nickname, not ‘Rosie., but her true name.

He didn’t know that, of course. She had never told him. Still, something about the way he said it made her feel as though the wind itself had gone still for a moment, just to listen.

“She was the last Saintess to emerge,” Rosie said, shifting her gaze to the carved reliefs above the temple doors. “Born of the First Light that split the darkness. She created the elves in her image—tall, radiant, long-lived. We are her children, her chosen. She gave us magic and  immortality from echoes and dreams. And in return, she asked only that we never shed blood”

Her voice had grown quieter, steadier, as if she were reciting not just history, but memory. Her eyes softened as she continued, tone laced with reverence. “She is said to be kind. Not just powerful, but gentle. She gave us art, music and compassion. She taught us how to feel deeply, to love fiercely. To preserve beauty in a world that seems bent on destroying it.”

Katsuki watched her closely, arms crossing over his chest. “You speak about her like you still believe in her.”

Rosie let out a slow breath. Her fingers tightened around the hair stick. “I want to,” she said. Then her smile wavered, and a shadow passed over her expression. “But I haven’t for a long time.”

Katsuki’s brows furrowed. “Why do you look sad, then?”

She hesitated. The wind stirred the hem of her cloak.

“Because I grew up thinking she would protect me. That the Saints cared. That their blessings weren’t just stories meant to keep children obedient or give the desperate something to cling to.” She swallowed. “But I’ve seen too many prayers go unanswered under the watch of divine silence. It makes you wonder if they were ever really listening at all.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Yeah, well,” he said, “aren’t all stories based on some truth?”

Rosie glanced at him, surprised.

He shrugged, shifting his stance. “People don’t come up with something outta nowhere. They see something, hear something, twist it until it fits what they need. That’s how legends start, right? Fire gets bigger with each retelling, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t fire to begin with.”

Her lips quirked. “So you think the Saints were real?”

“I think they were something, ” he replied. “Maybe not glowing, winged gods or whatever the temples say. But something strong enough to leave a mark. Strong enough to give people hope. That doesn’t come outta nowhere.”

Rosie stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she laughed—soft, breathy, almost in disbelief. “You surprise me sometimes.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

She turned her gaze back to the temple. “I don’t think I believe in the Saints like I used to. But I do believe in the light, fire, and in the magic they supposedly left behind. That’s real. I can feel it. In my blood, in my bones.”

Katsuki’s eyes drifted to the silver stick in her hand, gleaming faintly in the sun. “Then maybe that’s enough.”

She looked over at him, her voice a whisper. “You really think so?”

He met her gaze without flinching. “I wouldn’t follow someone who didn’t believe in something.”

A warm quiet settled between them. Rosie stared at him, the corners of her mouth curling ever so slightly. “I believe in myself,” she said at last. “And maybe, someday, that will be enough.”

Katsuki smirked faintly. “Hell, that’s already more than most people got.”

She bumped her shoulder gently into his as they turned toward the steps. “Thanks for listening.”

“Don’t thank me,” he muttered. “I just didn’t feel like dragging your sentimental ass up these stairs.”

Rosie laughed, light and genuine, as they followed Izuku up the steps to the temple. The flames above them flickered higher, as if stirred by something unseen.

Perhaps not approval, but something more akin to acknowledgment.

The temple loomed before them, carved from deep earthen stone veined with molten gold that shimmered with an inner glow. Massive pillars rose toward the sky, entwined with curling vines of obsidian and red crystal, shaped like flame-kissed roots reaching for the heavens. At the top of each column burned a brazier of eternal fire, casting a steady warmth that sank into the skin and stirred something old and reverent in the bones.

The Temple of Eldenrenth, Saint of Earth and Flame and Eldest of the Seven.

Rosie stood at the edge of the threshold, her breath caught in her throat. She had seen depictions of temples in books and scrolls, had even visited some in her youth with her mother—shrines carved into groves, sun-kissed fountains beneath silver trees, sanctuaries dedicated to Stellalucewendë.

But this… this was different.

This place radiated power—not cold, detached power, but ancient strength, elemental. Rooted and living.

The very walls seemed to breathe.

The flames didn’t flicker like ordinary fire; they moved with intention, bending and dancing like they knew they were being watched. Carvings lined the walls of the vestibule, telling the story of Eldenrenth in vivid relief—his emergence from the molten heart of the world, his hands shaping the first humans from clay and cinder, the gift of elemental magic pressed into their palms.

The air was heavy with incense and heat, the faint scent of cedar and iron lacing each breath. A subtle tremor thrummed beneath her boots, like the mountain was quietly exhaling beneath their feet.

Rosie found herself drifting forward, her eyes wide. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Katsuki, walking at her side, didn’t respond immediately. His gaze was sharp, sweeping every detail—defensive instincts on alert—but even he couldn’t hide the faint awe softening the edges of his frown.

“It suits him,” she said quietly. “The Saint of Flame and Stone, of power and patience. This temple is… him. ”

A few steps ahead, Izuku had already dropped to his knees near a small shrine built into a side alcove. He muttered under his breath, scribbling quickly into a worn leather journal, sketching something he’d seen in the carvings, then flipping a page to make more notes. His eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement that came from genuine reverence and obsessive curiosity combined.

Rosie smiled faintly as she passed him, and he barely noticed—entirely consumed by the temple’s story.

At the far end of the great hall stood the offering table, raised on a platform of obsidian and carved quartz, its surface littered with tributes. There were polished stones shaped like hearts, melted rings of gold, sprigs of sacred herbs, small bowls filled with glowing coals, bundles of black soil wrapped in red silk. Offerings left by those asking for strength. For protection. For the Saint to lend them the resilience of stone and the fury of flame.

Rosie approached slowly, her fingers tightening around the hair stick in her hand.

She stared at it a moment.

It had been with her for so long—a thing of beauty passed down by her mother, its meaning tangled in childhood rituals and fading belief. It wasn’t an item of power, nor one of immense value. But it was hers. A symbol of memory, of identity.

Carefully, she reached out and laid it on the altar among the other offerings. The silver glinted in the firelight, the sapphire gemstone catching the flame and glowing as if it pulsed.

Then she bowed her head.

She didn’t know the prayers the humans spoke to Eldenrenth. But she remembered the way her mother prayed—soft, reverent words whispered more from heart than from doctrine.

So Rosie simply closed her eyes and let her thoughts rise like smoke.

Great Saint of Flame and Stone,
I offer what was once mine.
Not because I seek power,
But because I wish for a full and happy life.
I have sinned greatly,
And I no longer know what is myth and what is truth.
If you still see us…
See me now.

She drew in a slow breath, letting the heat of the room press against her skin. Letting it remind her that she was alive. That she still felt.

As she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the flicker of the flame in the nearest brazier, her thoughts drifting.

It used to be uncommon for races to pay homage to Saints that weren’t their creators. The Saints had shaped their own peoples—elves, humans, dwarves, tieflings, dragons and the amazons—each bound to a Saint or Saintess like a parent to a child, ancient and unshakable in identity.

In the earliest ages, it would’ve been heresy for an elf to enter a human’s shrine. But over the last millennia, that had changed.

Barriers between peoples had thinned, blurred by war, peace, bloodlines, trade, and time. New temples rose where saints once never tread. It had become… common, even encouraged in places, to offer to saints not of one’s own origin. Perhaps the Saints themselves no longer cared who lit the candles, so long as someone did. Perhaps they never had.

“Hey.” Katsuki’s voice pulled her back again. He was standing behind her, arms crossed, but softer than before. He tilted his head slightly. “You alright?”

She nodded slowly. “I just didn’t expect to feel anything.”

He looked toward the altar. “You miss her. Your Saintess.”

Rosie’s gaze flicked to the flame again. “I think I miss what she meant to me. What she stood for. Hope and comfort. Belief in something bigger, something watching. I don’t know if she was ever real… but I know what it felt like to think she was.”

Katsuki studied her, then said, “You still gave an offering.”

“I did.”

“Even though this Saint didn’t build you.”

“He didn’t have to,” Rosie murmured. “Maybe that’s the point.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the firelight dancing across the offering table, the sacred heat wrapping around them like an embrace from the past.

Then, quietly, Rosie said, “Let’s go see what Izuku’s discovered.”

Katsuki nodded, but not before casting one last look at the silver hair stick lying among the coals and gems—its gem glinting like a dying star and behind them, the flames of Eldenrenth’s altar flickered higher, almost like a breath had passed through the room. His form took shape as he watched her from the basin before slinking back into the fire.

The Adventurer’s Guild in Verdant Vale was always bustling by midday. Sunlight filtered in through the great stained-glass windows, casting colored patches of light across the polished stone floor. Adventurers of all shapes and sizes moved through the grand hall—some still muddy from their travels, others boisterously celebrating a completed mission with mugs of spiced ale and plates piled high with food. A bard played a lively tune on a flute in the corner, mostly ignored over the din of animated conversations and the clink of metal armor.

In front of the main Request Board, three figures stood in a small, silent triangle, each wearing identical expressions of intense contemplation.

Rosie had her hands on her hips, staring up at the board like it had personally offended her. Her braid was a little messy, a faint smudge of ink still on her jaw from something she’d scribbled earlier that morning. Katsuki stood next to her with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, jaw tight like he was about to pick a fight—with the board, or maybe the concept of paper itself. And Izuku, notebook already open and scribbled with half a dozen mission summaries, was talking mostly to himself as he read over the available postings aloud.

“This one pays pretty well—clearing wyverns from the west ridge,” Izuku said, tapping the parchment with the back of his pen. “But we’d need to make sure we have aerial gear in case they try to retreat off the cliffs. Oh! And this one—tracking a missing caravan near the swamp. Not as high-paying, but there’s a bonus if we retrieve the lost goods intact—”

“No,” Katsuki grunted immediately.

“Why not?” Izuku blinked, confused.

“Because it’s a damn swamp. ”

“Swamps aren’t that bad,” Rosie offered, clearly amused. “You’ve fought in a lava pit, Katsuki. You can handle a little mud.”

“I can handle it,” he growled. “Doesn’t mean I wanna waste time dragging our asses through knee-deep slime while you scream about leeches.”

“I do not scream about leeches! ” she snapped, then looked at Izuku for backup. “Do I?”

Izuku hesitated. “…You yelped. Once.”

Rosie gasped, scandalized. “That was one time ! And it was on my neck!”

Katsuki snorted. “Exactly.”

Rosie crossed her arms. “Fine. No swamps. What about that bounty on the stone drake nest? We could split the reward three ways and sell the scales—”

“They’re protected creatures,” Izuku said immediately. “We’d lose our license if we took a job without verifying the territory regulations. Also, they imprint if they hatch around people. Do you want a baby stone drake following us forever?”

Rosie paused. “…A little.”

Izuku sighed. “You can’t keep another magical animal. Last time you tried, that manticore cub almost mauled an entire village.”

“It was playing! ” she argued, but there was a slightly guilty look on her face. “It just… had claws.”

Katsuki made a low noise of amusement, just barely suppressing a grin. “You’re banned from three towns now. They put your face on a sign in Brightbarrow.”

“I smiled in that portrait,” she said proudly. “I looked great.”

Izuku held up another posting. “What about this one? Guard duty at the northern pass. It’s not glamorous, but it’s consistent pay, and the region’s been unstable lately. Could be important.”

“Gods, Izuku,” Katsuki groaned. “You wanna stand around for eight hours while snow gets in your boots and some noble’s caravan trundles by every hour and a half?”

“Well… yes?” Izuku blinked. “Stability’s good. Reliable work is good.”

Rosie leaned toward Katsuki and stage-whispered, “He says that like we didn’t just close a vault full of demonspawn three days ago.”

Katsuki smirked, and Izuku frowned.

“I heard that.”

“ You were meant to! ” she shot back, laughing.

Katsuki stepped forward suddenly, jabbing a finger at a parchment pinned slightly askew in the middle of the board. “What about this? Giant boar sighted near the windmill fields. High risk, high payout. Short distance. No nobles. No swamps.”

Rosie frowned. “Didn’t the last guy who tried that lose a leg?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I won’t. ”

Izuku muttered something about ‘reckless behavior’ and ‘brute force not being a substitute for planning’ while frantically jotting down the details in his notebook.

“We could compromise,” Rosie offered, tapping her chin. “Do the windmill boar hunt and take a lower-tier quest right after—something that doesn’t involve being gored.”

“Like tea delivery,” Katsuki muttered.

Rosie grinned. “Hey, those grannies tip very well. ”

Izuku beamed. “That’s a great idea! A combination of high-risk, high-reward followed by something more community-oriented. Balances our public perception and builds good rapport with the locals.”

Katsuki squinted at him. “You say that like we’re trying to run for mayor or something.”

Izuku flushed. “I’m just saying! Guild reputation matters!”

“I like the idea,” Rosie said, already unpinning the boar request. “We slay a beast, save a windmill, and then drink tea with the elderly. That’s the full adventurer arc.”

“I’m not drinking any damn tea,” Katsuki grumbled.

“You are ,” she said sweetly, “and you’re going to smile.”

He gave her a long, suffering stare, but didn’t argue further. Rosie, taking that as a victory, winked and pinned the request under her arm.

“I’ll go file it with the clerk,” she said cheerfully. “You boys sort out who’s buying the new trap snares. And I want the nice ones this time. No more ropes that snap when the wind sneezes.”

As she strode off, Katsuki watched her go, then sighed heavily. “Why do we let her lead?” he muttered.

“Because she gets things done,” Izuku replied brightly. “And because when you try to negotiate, we get kicked out of the guild hall.”

“…That was one time. ”

“You threatened the mission clerk with scattering his bones all over Astela. ”

“He insulted my handwriting. ”

“It was kind of bad—”

“ Shut up, nerd. ”

Izuku laughed, already turning to follow Rosie toward the front desk. Katsuki lingered a moment longer at the board, glancing up at the dozens of pinned requests, all waiting for someone brave—or foolish—enough to accept them. Now they were about to hunt a boar and serve tea.

He huffed. “Dumbest guild in the region.” Still, the corners of his mouth tugged upward as he turned to follow them.

The sun had barely risen when Rosie, Katsuki, and Izuku reached the windmill fields just beyond the rolling golden farmlands of Verdant Vale. A strong breeze carried the scent of lavender and wheat through the tall grass, the rhythmic creaking of the windmills echoing faintly through the valley. Birds trilled, and the sky was painted in soft amber and rose hues.

“It’s too peaceful,” Katsuki muttered, tightening the straps on his gauntlets. “That’s never a good sign.”

Izuku, crouching beside a patch of torn-up earth near one of the larger windmills, flipped open his journal. “There are tracks. Deep ones. Hoofed. And some broken fencing—probably from when it charged through the millyard.”

Rosie tugged the hem of her cloak over one shoulder and squinted toward the distant tree line. “You’d think we’d see it from here. A boar that big doesn’t hide easily.”

“It doesn’t need to hide,” Katsuki said. “It’s probably waiting to ambush.”

“That’s comforting,” Rosie replied flatly, pulling her staff free from the leather harness across her back. “Alright. Izuku, you set the trap nets. Katsuki, you and I can herd it toward the ridge. If we get it close to that natural basin, we can corner it.”

“I don’t herd things,” Katsuki growled.

“You do today,” Rosie said sweetly, already walking ahead. “And be gentle! The last time you tried to ‘herd,’ you blew up half a barn and traumatized three goats.”

“They had it coming,” he muttered, but followed her anyway.

The shriek of a windmill blade spinning out of control snapped across the valley as the ground trembled.

Rosie ran, hair flying loose, as the massive beast barreled after her. The boar was easily the size of a cart, bristling with muscle and jagged tusks as long as her arm. Its hide was thick, mottled with patches of stone-like plating, and every stomp shook the ground like a miniature quake.

“NOW, IZUKU!” she shouted.

From the tall grass, Izuku pulled a lever, triggering a system of snares he’d rigged earlier. Ropes snapped tight, spikes dug into the earth—and for a brief moment, it looked like it worked.

The boar squealed and stumbled—but then roared, a guttural sound that shouldn’t have come from something without a dragon’s blood. It tore through the restraints like they were thread.

“Oh no,” Izuku whispered.

“ KATSUKI! ”

A blast of searing crimson erupted from the left ridge as Katsuki launched himself in a streak of fire, slamming into the boar’s side with enough force to knock it off-balance. The boar squealed, enraged, flinging Katsuki back into a hill of hay with a crash.

“I’m fine!” came a muffled voice.

Rosie didn’t wait. Her hands blazed with radiant magic as she shouted an incantation, light lancing from her staff and striking the creature square in the eyes. The boar shrieked again, this time disoriented.

“NOW, IZUKU—net spell!”

“Got it!” Izuku raised his hands, muttering under his breath, then slammed both palms to the earth. Arcane runes flashed across the grass as glowing ropes of blue magic burst from the ground, wrapping around the boar’s legs.

This time, the beast hit the ground hard and didn’t get back up.

Panting, mud-smeared, and still brimming with residual adrenaline, the trio stared at their fallen quarry. “…That wasn’t so bad,” Rosie wheezed.

Katsuki emerged from the haystack, hay clinging to his hair and eyebrows like a scarecrow that had survived a war. He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “You call that not bad?”

She grinned, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. “We’re alive, aren’t we?”

“I nearly got gored!”

“But you didn’t,” she said sweetly, and turned to Izuku. “How are you holding up?”

He nodded, though he was clearly out of breath. “Trap spell held. Barely. That thing was stronger than we estimated. I’ll need to reinforce the next net with binding sigils.”

Katsuki knelt beside the boar, examining its armored hide. “Tough bastard. These plates will fetch a high price at the forge.”

“And the windmill’s safe,” Rosie added with a satisfied hum. “Mission accomplished.”

“You promised there’d be no tea,” Katsuki said flatly.

Rosie didn’t answer. She was too busy smiling and helping an old woman arrange a plate of lemon scones on the table. The small garden cottage smelled of herbs and sugar, and a dozen old women in aprons and shawls buzzed about like happy bees.

“Isn’t this nice? ” she said cheerfully as she poured him tea. “A peaceful cooldown quest.”

Katsuki stared down at the delicate porcelain cup with the tiny pink flowers painted on the rim like it had personally insulted him. “I just took down a raging war-boar with my face. And now I’m sipping chamomile.”

Izuku, already on his second cup, beamed from across the table. “The elder ladies are very grateful. Plus, they promised us a basket of apple tarts as extra payment.”

“I don’t want apple tarts.”

One of the grandmothers passed by and gently pinched Katsuki’s cheek. “Oh, but you’re such a strong young man! You deserve a little sweetness.”

Rosie bit back a laugh. Katsuki’s eye twitched. “This is punishment,” he muttered. “This is what divine vengeance looks like.”

Rosie leaned over, resting her chin in her hand with a teasing smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

He glared at her.

Izuku, flipping to a fresh page in his journal, sighed happily. “This is the most balanced mission we’ve ever done. A deadly monster, a meaningful success, and now—tea.”

Rosie raised her cup toward him. “To well-rounded adventures.”

He raised his in return. “To low-level follow-up quests.”

Katsuki stared at them both, then slowly, grudgingly lifted his cup an inch.

“…To never speaking of this again.”

They clinked cups. 

The Gilded Thorn loomed ahead, nestled in the heart of the underground pleasure district of Halwen’s Reach. All gold filigree and glowing enchanted lights, the casino was equal parts lavish and lawless. Beneath its decadent halls was a vault that held an artifact the guild needed back quietly —a simple retrieval mission, in theory.

“Alright,” Rosie said, brushing a curl from her face as they stood in the shadowed alley near the side entrance. “We stick to the plan. I distract the guards. You two sneak in while they’re drooling. In, out, no casualties, no drama.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Izuku asked nervously, adjusting the thick-rimmed spectacles he’d adopted for the mission.

Rosie smirked and stepped forward into the light, revealing the disguise she had chosen: a deep crimson corset embroidered with gold thread, paired with a high-slit skirt and sheer sleeves that shimmered with faint magic. Her hair was piled elegantly with just enough loose curls to frame her flushed cheeks, and when she turned to look at them over her shoulder, she winked.

Katsuki choked. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“It’s a look,” Rosie said innocently. “The guards are men. They’ll look at this and not the two thieves sneaking past.”

“I’m not a thief,” Izuku mumbled, eyes wide and pointedly averted from Rosie.

“I am ,” Rosie said proudly, stepping toward the ornate side door where two bored-looking guards leaned against spears. “Just wait for my signal.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth as she walked away, hips swaying like she was dancing to music only she could hear.

“Deku,” he growled, eyes narrowing, “why the hell is she the one doing the seducing?”

“Because she’s good at it and she is a female, unless you want to try,” Izuku whispered, already ducking low and moving toward the shadowed archway flanking the guards. “Come on, we move when she—”

“Hello, boys,” Rosie purred.

Both guards stood straighter at once.

Katsuki’s jaw locked.

Rosie twirled a curl of her hair, fluttering her lashes. “I’ve been waiting so long to get in tonight, but it looks like I forgot my pass… I could leave, but it’s cold out here… maybe you’d let me warm up inside? Just for a little while?”

The taller of the guards cleared his throat. “Well… miss… I suppose we could check if your name’s on the guest list…”

“Maybe you don’t need to check anything at all,” Rosie said sweetly, leaning closer. “Maybe you could just trust me. I’d be ever so grateful.”

She brushed her hand along the shorter guard’s arm, her smile molten. His face turned crimson.

Katsuki’s fist clenched.

One guard chuckled nervously. “Well, I mean, we’d have to ask—”

“Oh come on ,” Katsuki muttered under his breath. “They’re not even trying to be subtle.”

Izuku gently tugged his sleeve. “We’re almost through, don’t mess it u—”

BANG.

The taller guard barely had time to blink before Katsuki’s fist slammed into his face, knocking him unconscious. The other one got a single yelp out before Katsuki decked him just as efficiently. Both bodies slumped to the ground with dull thuds.

Rosie turned slowly, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “What,” she asked in a deceptively calm tone, “was that? ”

“They were taking too long ,” Katsuki said gruffly, dusting his hands off like he hadn’t just sabotaged their entire infiltration.

“They were perfectly seduced ,” she snapped, stepping toward him. “I had them on the edge! One more second and they were going to open the damn door. ”

“They were not seduced.”

“Oh, really?” Rosie arched a brow, lips quirking. “You wanna test that theory?”

Katsuki stared at her.

She stepped close— very close. Her fingers brushed lightly down his chest, her voice dipping into a smoky lilt. “I could prove it, you know. That they were perfectly, helplessly, hopelessly seduced.”

He swallowed hard.

“You think I can’t make someone fold just like that?” she whispered, rising on tiptoe, her breath warm against his jaw.

Katsuki’s face turned scarlet. His hands twitched at his sides. “I—” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “I’m not— You’re not gonna—”

“Folded,” Rosie said smugly.

Katsuki’s mouth opened, ready to retort

“GUYS!” Izuku came sprinting out the side door, clutching a glowing, rune-marked orb in one hand. “I THINK I TRIGGERED A MAGICAL ALARM!”

Behind him, a distant whoooooooo rose from deep within the casino, followed by flashing lights and the sound of several angry voices.

“RUN!” Izuku shrieked.

Rosie grabbed Katsuki’s hand and hauled him after her. “I had them perfectly seduced! ” she yelled as they bolted.

“You were seducing me! ” Katsuki shouted back.

Izuku, panting, looked over his shoulder. “I told you two not to flirt during heists!”

“ Then stop setting off magical alarms! ” Rosie retorted.

The door slammed behind them, and silence fell—thick and breathless. Rosie was bent over, hands on her knees, gasping for air. Izuku had collapsed onto a worn couch, still gripping the glowing orb like it might jump out of his hands. Katsuki stood by the doorway, arms braced against the frame as he panted hard, hair mussed and sticking to his forehead.

Outside, the city was still groaning with the chaos they’d left behind: magical sirens wailing, shouts echoing from guards trying to coordinate their response. But here, in the old boarded-up alchemist’s hut that had served as their safehouse for the last couple of days, there was peace. Of a sort.

“I can’t—” Izuku gasped. “I can’t believe—”

“Did you steal the whole damn pedestal?!” Katsuki barked, stalking forward.

“It wasn’t—! I tried to deactivate the enchantment, but it—! It bit me!” Izuku held up his hand, which had a faint scorch mark on the glove. “So I panicked and I grabbed the whole thing!”

Rosie wheezed a laugh, still trying to catch her breath. “Of course you did.”

“I said it wasn’t going to be as simple as walking in and out!” Izuku shouted. “And then you two—what even was that?!”

Katsuki crossed his arms. “I knocked out two guards. Clean and efficient.”

“You jeopardized the whole mission because you got jealous!” Izuku pointed an accusing finger. “And you!” He turned to Rosie. “Why do you keep using… whatever that was as a strategy?!”

Rosie tilted her head, a smug smile tugging at her lips. “Because it works. Or it would have worked, if someone hadn’t gone all territorial.”

Katsuki flushed. “I wasn’t jealous.”

“You decked a man mid-wink,” Rosie said dryly. “You might as well have pissed on me.”

Katsuki growled. “ Don’t say that! ”

Izuku dropped his head into his hands with a long, mournful groan. “We are never going to get assigned stealth missions again.”

“Well,” Rosie said brightly, stepping toward the table in the center of the room and pulling a cloth free, “we did get the artifact.”

The orb pulsed softly in Izuku’s grip, casting faint blue light across the dim room.

Katsuki scowled. “Yeah, after you almost made out with a guard, and Deku practically started a magical explosion.”

“ Almost made out with a guard,” Rosie said, eyes narrowing in mock offense. “Please. I have standards. I was like… two minutes away from kissing his hand and maybe a shoulder touch.”

Katsuki muttered something unintelligible and extremely rude under his breath.

Rosie smirked, watching him as she moved to set down her weapons and pull the pins from her hair. “You know, if you wanted my attention so badly, you could’ve just asked.”

His eyes flicked up to hers. “Tch. I don’t need to ask. ”

Izuku made a strangled noise in the corner. “I regret being here,” he said quietly.

Rosie ignored him. “You were just mad because I turned it on you, and you folded like silk. ”

“I didn’t fold. ” Katsuki snapped.

“You so folded,” Izuku chimed in miserably. “I saw your ears turn red. They glowed.”

“They did not— ”

“They did, ” Rosie and Izuku said in unison.

Katsuki groaned and sank into the chair across from her, glaring at the floor like it had personally betrayed him.

Izuku finally placed the orb on the table and pulled off his gloves. “Well… the enchantments are still partially active. It’s radiating low-level arcane heat, but not hostile anymore. I think it’s dormant now.”

Rosie tapped her nails against the wooden edge. “What even is it?”

“An elemental anchor. Fire-aligned,” Izuku replied. “Probably tied to the ancient runic system the Thorn used to protect high-profile relics. Dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Which it was, ” Rosie said, stretching out on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “So once again, the day is saved. By sheer luck, seductive charm, and a little righteous violence.”

Katsuki grunted. “Next time, I’m distracting the guards.”

Rosie snorted. “By glaring them to death?”

“I could pull it off.”

“Sure you could,” she teased, voice thick with amusement.

Izuku didn’t even look up from his notes. “I’m begging both of you to shut up.”

A silence settled between them then—not tense, but tired. The kind that came after adrenaline burned out and the danger passed.

Rosie let her eyes fall shut as she listened to Katsuki unbuckle his weapons and Izuku scribble down notes about the orb’s magical output. Her hair was a mess, her ribs ached from running, and she was 90% sure her corset had loosened mid-chase. But they were alive. They had the prize. 

“I’m going to sleep,” she mumbled without opening her eyes. “Wake me if someone tries to kill us.”

“Not unless it’s urgent,” Katsuki muttered.

Izuku yawned. “Define urgent.”

She smiled faintly. “Death or worse.”

There was a pause.

“…Like if Katsuki tries to flirt again?” Izuku asked.

“I don’t flirt, ” Katsuki growled.

“Oh, you definitely flirt,” Rosie muttered sleepily.

And with that, she drifted off on the couch, the glowing orb pulsing quietly nearby, while her two companions argued softly into the night—about flirting, plans, and who, technically , was responsible for the magical alarm.

Katsuki sat cross-legged near the hearth, a small, battered sketchbook balanced against one thigh and a chunk of charcoal held between his calloused fingers. The fire in the old safehouse crackled low, throwing flickering gold and orange across the crumbling stone walls. Outside, the wail of magical alarms had faded into the occasional barked order in the distance. A sweep of the city was still underway, but it wouldn’t reach this far out until morning.

He should’ve been resting, or sharpening his gear, or pestering Deku about contingency routes.

Instead, he was watching her.

Rosie had curled up on the lumpy old couch, her head tucked on her arm, pink hair spilling down like moonlit silk. Her cloak had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the fading shimmer of the glamour charm that had reshaped her outfit for the infiltration—still a bit too daring for Katsuki’s taste, and still making his jaw tense if he thought about it too long.

Her breathing was steady. Soft. And her face, for once, wasn’t animated with teasing grins or snide remarks. Just… peaceful. Untouched.

Katsuki’s fingers moved before his mind caught up.

He sketched her—quick, almost reckless strokes. The slope of her neck, the way her ear peeked through that tangle of hair. The way her fingers curled beneath her chin, nails still faintly smudged from illusion powder and dirt from the city streets. Her legs were drawn up slightly, one boot still on, the other dropped somewhere near the door.

She looked—gods, she looked nothing like the songs.

Elves in the old hymns were distant, delicate creatures. Holy and untouchable, draped in silver and veils, eyes cast skyward in quiet reverence. They walked in moonlight and wept for mortal folly, drank dew from the petals of starlight flowers, and rarely spoke above a whisper.

But Rosie?

She cursed like a mercenary, flirted like a bard, and fought like a spitfire. She shoved her boots on the wrong feet when she was half-asleep. She snorted when she laughed too hard. And earlier that night, she had stared a guard in the eye and purred as she played with his buttons like he was made of string and she was born to unravel him.

Katsuki’s hand stilled, charcoal hovering above the page.

How could something like that—someone so chaotic, loud, imperfect, warm—exist in the same skin as the saints’ so-called chosen?

He didn’t know. He didn’t care. She existed. That was enough to drive him mad.

Across the room, Izuku shifted on the floor, surrounded by open journals and magical instruments. The orb now sat within a runic circle of protection, pulsing with a dim orange glow, like a heart still beating deep underground. Izuku muttered to himself and scribbled another line of notes, oblivious to everything else.

Good. Let him stay distracted.

Katsuki returned to the sketch, softening the shadows around her eyes. He hesitated, then etched the barest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Not a smirk. Not her teasing grin. Just… something real. Something no one else got to see.

He wasn’t good at saying things. At admitting what dug under his skin and made a home in his ribs. But here, in charcoal and firelight, he could try.

He pressed his thumb lightly across the edge of her hair in the drawing, blurring it just a little. She’s a storm, he thought, eyes narrowing. And I’m an idiot for standing in the middle of it with open arms.

A quiet, sleepy murmur made his head snap up. Rosie shifted on the couch, curling tighter, lips parting just barely as she mumbled something into the cushion. “…’suki…”

His heart stuttered.

He didn’t breathe.

Rosie didn’t wake. She just settled back down, her arm draped across her waist, breath slowing again.

Katsuki stared at her. Then quietly, without a sound, he flipped the sketchbook shut and shoved it under his thigh.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said suddenly, not looking up, “when we get back to the Verdant Vale, I’m making you distract the guards next time.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “What, you want me to bat my eyelashes and ask them if they like my dagger collection?”

“I don’t care how you do it,” Izuku said tiredly. “I just don’t want to see the two of you almost make out in front of me again.”

“Jealous?” Katsuki muttered, voice low.

“Traumatized.”

Katsuki didn’t respond. He just leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes drifting back to Rosie.

Let Deku be traumatized. Let the alarms keep echoing in the distance. Let the whole damn city burn if it wanted to. For now, she was safe. She was real. And she was here. That was enough even if she is the biggest pain in the ass he had ever met. 

The next morning greeted them with golden skies and the faint chill of dew lingering on the grass. The capital was already bustling by the time Rosie, Katsuki, and Izuku arrived at the central guild to collect their payment. The client—a nervy merchant noble with more hair pomade than sense—handed over their pouch of coin with excessive gratitude and a few mumbled words about “heroes” and “blessings from the Saint.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes so hard Rosie thought he might strain something.

They were out of the city by midday, the path winding through open hills and sun-dappled woods. Rosie hummed softly as she walked ahead, a content smile on her lips and her hair gleaming in the daylight. The burden of the last mission had melted off her shoulders like morning mist.

Izuku held the coin pouch close to his chest like a newborn child, scribbling calculations in his travel ledger with furrowed brows.

“So,” Rosie said suddenly, spinning on her heel to walk backward and face them, hands clasped behind her back, “the next town over is hosting a seasonal festival. We should stop and enjoy ourselves before the next mission.”

“No,” Katsuki said immediately.

“Yes!” Izuku chirped at the same time.

Rosie beamed, already triumphant. “Majority rules!”

“That’s not—what?” Katsuki scowled. “This isn’t a damn vote —”

“It absolutely is,” Izuku said, nose still buried in his notes. “We’ve got a full day before the weather stabilizes enough to travel into the Blightwood. A detour makes sense. Festivals are good cover anyway. Lower suspicion if we’re being tracked.”

“We’re not being tracked.”

“You don’t know that .”

Rosie, meanwhile, was twirling a flower between her fingers and already mentally planning her outfit.

Katsuki glared between the two of them. His jaw tightened. “You just wanna waste time buying sweets and dancing like idiots.”

Rosie gave him a beatific smile. “And you just don’t want to admit you have no rhythm.”

“I’ll have rhythm when I’m putting a boot up someone’s—”

“ Bakugou, ” Izuku warned, raising a brow.

Katsuki clicked his tongue and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fine. Go. But I’m not letting her wander around by herself. Place’ll be crawling with drunk travelers and idiot peddlers trying to push cursed jewelry.”

Rosie blinked innocently. “Are you saying you want to go with me?”

“I’m saying you’re too damn naive to go alone.”

“Naive?” she gasped. “ I was the one who seduced our way past two palace guards—”

“You call that seduction? They were blinking like stunned sheep!”

“They were dazzled. ” She sniffed, lifting her chin with dramatic offense. “By charm, not sheep-staring. And I would’ve had the last one in my pocket if someone didn’t throw a punch.”

“You were taking too long. ”

“I was letting the suspense build!”

Izuku sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We are going to die in a town fair because of unresolved tension between you too.”

But Katsuki ignored him, already stomping forward to catch up with Rosie, who had begun walking again with a sway in her step.

“And if anyone even thinks about laying a hand on you,” Katsuki muttered as he passed her, “I’ll break their fingers and feed ‘em the confetti.”

“Aw,” Rosie said sweetly, trailing after him, “you do want to go with me.”

He didn’t respond. But his ears were red.

Izuku chuckled behind them, shaking his head. “You two are ridiculous.”

As they crested the next hill, the distant sounds of music, laughter, and festival bells drifted toward them on the summer wind. Rosie took a deep breath, already savoring the sugar and spice of the air, and Katsuki—despite himself—found his gaze lingering on her again.

She was still nothing like the songs. But if the gods were watching… they’d probably be laughing too.

The festival was in full bloom by the time Rosie, Katsuki, and Izuku stepped past the decorated town gates.

Bright pennants danced on the breeze above them, strung between lamp-lit posts and crisscrossing the cobbled streets. The air was thick with music—flutes and fiddles, drumbeats and laughter—and the mingled scents of sugar glaze, roasted meats, flower garlands, and warm spice all made for a sensory storm that made Rosie practically shimmer with delight.

“We have to try that,” she said, pointing excitedly at a stall where candied lotus blooms were being twirled on sticks. “And that one—! Look, they’re serving meat skewers with that weird red sauce—Izuku, write this down, I wanna figure out how to make it later— Katsuki, look! That one’s got deep-fried moonfruit!”

“Why am I being yelled at?” Katsuki muttered, trailing behind her with his arms crossed as Rosie dragged him and Izuku by the wrists through the bustling lanes. “This is a damn nightmare.”

Izuku, for his part, was bright-eyed and scribbling notes in between chewing bites of spiced bread and trying not to trip over his own feet. “You’ve gotta admit, though, this is the most diverse regional cuisine we’ve come across. The way they blend lowland spices with coastal preservation techniques—this is genius.”

“I’m gonna preserve your mouth shut if you don’t stop talking while you’re chewing.”

Rosie didn’t wait for either of them to argue. She flitted from stall to stall, dragging them along with surprising strength, buying small servings of every dish that caught her eye. The vendors were charmed by her smile and the light in her voice, giving her extra samples, and she kept turning to share each one—holding out skewers and slices and little dumplings wrapped in banana leaf.

“Here, try this,” she said, offering Katsuki something steaming and golden in her hands.

“I don’t want—”

She shoved it at his mouth anyway.

He scowled.

She raised a brow. “You’ll offend the cooks.”

“…Tch.” He leaned forward, begrudgingly taking a bite from her fingers, ignoring Izuku’s subtle smirk. “It’s fine.”

“It’s delicious, ” Rosie corrected, eyes gleaming.

Katsuki swallowed, refusing to admit she was right, though he let her keep feeding him whatever bite-sized mystery food she shoved his way.

They paused in a small clearing later in the evening where barrels and flasks of local brews were being offered from a large circle of vendors around a ring of fire dancers. Rosie tried a sweet wine made from starlily and frostberries and immediately laughed, cheeks pinked. Izuku found a bubbling gold mead and began slurring facts about fermentation and honeybees to the brewer who’d stopped listening five minutes ago.

Katsuki stood behind them, arms crossed, watching both with visible disapproval.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “I’m a damn babysitter now.”

Rosie leaned heavily on his shoulder at one point, a new drink in her hand. “You're so responsible,” she whispered teasingly, eyes dancing. “Do you wanna try this one? It’s got… something… fizzy?”

He took the cup, sniffed it, and made a face. “This smells like regret.”

“Regret tastes like cinnamon,” Izuku chimed in unhelpfully, almost dropping his notebook.

By the time Katsuki had wrangled them to a quiet hill where an outdoor stage had been erected, the stars were out and the fireflies were glittering like lanterns in the hedges. They managed to find a small bench toward the middle of the crowd just as the production was starting.

“Both of you—just sit down and shut up,” Katsuki said, planting Rosie on one side of the bench and Izuku on the other. “If you’re gonna be drunk idiots, at least be quiet drunk idiots.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Izuku mumbled, swaying slightly in his seat.

“You are currently wearing a corn husk crown, Deku.”

“…It gives me plus one charisma.”

Rosie giggled, head resting on her hand as she leaned toward the stage.

The performance began with soft, echoing drums and a low-voiced narrator speaking in the old tongue. Dancers in elaborate armor and robes emerged, depicting the first days of the world—when light and shadow were new, and the six great races each believed themselves chosen. The story spiraled into chaos: elves and dragons, humans and beastkin, giants and dryads, all warring for dominance.

Rosie’s laughter had faded, replaced by stillness.

Her gaze didn’t move from the stage. As the Saint of Flame appeared in crimson firelight—played by an actor in a glittering mantle of feathers and smoke—she drew in a quiet breath. Her eyes shimmered, reflecting the performance, the torches, the age-old wounds.

Izuku had begun to sway gently in time with the music, humming tunelessly.

Katsuki didn’t say a word. He just glanced between them, arms resting on his thighs, keeping guard even here—eyes narrowing as he watched Rosie lean forward slightly, captivated, her lips parting as the Saint of Light entered next, bathed in silver and white.

She didn’t speak.

But Katsuki saw something pass across her face—something old and soft. He didn’t understand it, but he understood her enough to stay quiet and let the moment breathe.

Chapter Text

The request had come from a hidden village nestled between two mountain ridges—something about unnatural tremors and vanishing livestock. It sounded simple at first, but the moment the trio arrived, they knew this wouldn’t be a typical rescue mission.

The forest surrounding the village was far too still. Not a single bird called, not a leaf stirred. Even the fog felt wrong, clinging to their skin like wet silk.

Rosie adjusted her cloak, glancing sideways at Katsuki, who was already scowling. “I hate cursed forests,” he muttered, his magic humming softly.

Izuku gave a nervous chuckle beside them, green eyes scanning the treeline. “They usually indicate strong magic. And maybe… traps. Definitely traps.”

Rosie grinned. “Cheer up, boys. At least the company’s good.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Tch. Yeah, thrilling.”

Still, despite the sarcasm, there was something easy about the way the three of them moved through the gloom. Izuku took the lead, notebook tucked into his belt but ready at a moment’s notice, his analytical brain already working. Rosie hung near the center, casting soft light spells to keep the fog at bay, while Katsuki covered the rear—eyes sharp, steps soundless, already counting exits and threats.

When the first tremor hit, they didn’t stumble.

“Three hundred meters south,” Izuku said instantly.

“I felt that too,” Rosie murmured. “Something’s stirring under the earth.”

“Then let’s dig it up and kill it,” Katsuki growled, but his voice lacked true irritation. He was keyed in, focused.

They reached the village shrine just before sundown. The ground had cracked open beneath it, revealing a spiraling descent of old stone steps—ancient and untouched for decades.

Rosie blinked. “The Hollow Vault. This wasn’t in the request.”

Izuku’s brows furrowed. “Local legend said a monster was sealed beneath the shrine. Maybe it’s waking up.”

Katsuki scoffed. “Then we’ll put it back to sleep. Permanent-like.”

They entered the Vault without hesitation, their movements like clockwork. Izuku deciphered runes as they descended. Rosie marked the walls with glowing sigils in case they needed to flee. Katsuki handled the monsters—small, crawling things with too many eyes and brittle, snapping limbs that skittered from the dark.

Katsuki blasted through a wall of cursed insects just as Rosie whispered a light burst to expose hidden sigils. Izuku shouted a warning right before a collapsing stair. Rosie caught Katsuki’s hand when a shadow tried to yank him into the floor. And Katsuki, for all his grumbling, threw Rosie over his shoulder when a cursed seal exploded behind her, shielding them both with a blast of concussive force.

When they reached the Vault's heart, the rhythm between them was undeniable. The beast was waiting—huge and made of smoke and rusted armor, eyes like burning coals. It roared, sending a gust of putrid wind down the corridor.

Rosie stood her ground, light dancing across her palms. “Izuku, take the right. Katsuki, we flank it.”

Izuku grinned. “Already on it.”

Katsuki smirked. “About time we had a real fight.”

The battle was a blur of motion and synergy. Izuku drew its attention with decoys of wind and clever misdirection while Rosie struck with beams of purifying light, melting its armor one layer at a time. Katsuki hit hard and fast, slamming into its exposed core with explosive force again and again until the Vault trembled around them.

When the creature finally dissolved into ash and silence, the trio stood side by side—breathing hard, grinning at each other.

Rosie wiped sweat from her brow. “Well… I think we make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed, beaming. “That was incredible. We were in perfect sync.”

Katsuki just grunted, hands on his hips, but there was no mistaking the smug, satisfied smile tugging at his mouth. “Took you both long enough to catch up to me.”

Rosie nudged him playfully. “Please. You nearly got eaten back there.”

He scoffed. “I had it handled.”

“You screamed,” she said sweetly.

“I did not—!”

Izuku chuckled as they climbed back up the stairs, the tension of battle fading into easy laughter. The fog outside had lifted, the forest no longer silent as birds sang again, with the sun peeked out between clouds.

The fire crackled low in their clearing, casting flickering shadows across the glade where they’d set up camp for the night. The trees swayed gently above them, silver leaves whispering overhead as fog rolled lazily through the underbrush. The last mission had left them exhausted but energized—momentum in their limbs, a spark behind their eyes.

They didn’t speak much. They didn’t need to.

Katsuki sat against a wide rock, his journal balanced across one thigh. The firelight reflected faintly off the steel edge of his quill as he flipped to a half-filled page—runed diagrams, sharp notes in a slanted, jagged hand, a rough sketch of the Vault they’d conquered that morning. But that wasn’t what he was focused on now. His pencil moved in quick, precise strokes, shading in a figure caught mid-step. The hair was familiar, the cloak, unmistakably hers. Rosie—caught in motion, one hand flared with magic.

He paused, glanced toward her.

Rosie stood a little distance from the fire, barefoot in the grass, her hair tied loosely back. She held both hands before her, palms facing outward. A glow sparked between them—soft, silver, pure. At first it hovered like a lantern flame, gentle and aimless. But then her brows furrowed, jaw tightening.

The glow sharpened.

With a whisper of incantation, the light shot forward, not as a beam—but a blade. It carved a clean arc through the mist and vanished against a tree trunk, the leaves shimmered in its wake.

She exhaled, then lifted her hands again.

Behind her, Katsuki tilted his head slightly, watching her movements from the corner of his eye as he added another line to the sketch. Light magic, turned to offense. He could see the way she was refining it—less flickering, more edge. More control and less hesitation.

He grunted quietly to himself. Good. She was learning fast.

Across from him, Izuku sat cross-legged on a large, flat stone, a map unrolled before him and pinned with tiny rocks. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a stick of charcoal twirling absently between his fingers. His notebook was open beside him, filled with notes—monster sightings, artifact rumors, and scribbled theories on ancient vault behavior.

“Another disturbance was reported here,” he muttered, circling a spot on the map. “And here… They’re all forming a pattern. A triangle…” He tapped the edges with the charcoal, murmuring half to himself, half for anyone listening. “If this is where the next breach might open, we could intercept before the arcane pressure ruptures. Maybe seal it off before another Vault opens…”

“You overthink things,” Katsuki muttered, not looking up.

“And you underthink them,” Izuku shot back without missing a beat, adjusting the angle of the map. “It’s why we work.”

Rosie smiled faintly as she let the light fade from her fingertips. “You two flirting again?”

Katsuki made a strangled sound and looked up sharply. “ What?! ”

Izuku’s face turned red. “That’s— no —she’s teasing, I know she’s teasing!”

Rosie giggled, walking barefoot back to the fire. “You’re too easy, both of you.”

She sank down beside Katsuki, who scoffed and went back to shading. Still, his gaze drifted toward her hands.

“Your magic,” he said after a moment. “It’s got a sharp edge now. You’re shaping it better.”

Rosie blinked, surprised by the compliment. “I’m trying. I don’t want to be the one who just lights the way while everyone else fights. I want to be able to stand with you. Both of you.”

“You already do,” Izuku said without looking up.

“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, eyes back on his journal. “But getting stronger’s never a bad idea.”

Rosie leaned back, arms propped behind her as she watched the moon peek through the trees. “Feels good to just… be for a bit.”

The three of them sat in comfortable silence—Izuku hunched over his map like a strategist in a war room, Katsuki still sketching Rosie in the margins of his notes when he thought no one was looking, and Rosie, glowing faintly with magic that shimmered across her skin like stardust.

Morning mist clung low to the forest floor, curling around their boots and horses like breath made visible. The trees were tall and ancient here, their branches heavy with dew and hush, sunlight slanting through in pale gold shafts. It was early still—the kind of early that made the world feel half-asleep—but the campfire had long since gone cold, and the trio was already packing up.

Izuku stood near his gelding, one hand gesturing wildly while the other clutched his folded map. “If we head northeast along this ridge,” he said, pointing at an unseen line in the air, “we should hit the old Myre paths—these narrow trails the old kingdom used to move magical goods. Nobody uses them anymore, but they’re still carved into the hillside, and they lead directly to the next Vault location. If the arcane field there is as unstable as I think, then we’ve got maybe two days before it cracks open fully.”

Rosie gently fastened the leather straps on her saddle, humming faintly as she tested the fit. Her horse, Divine, snorted at the fog curling around her hooves.

Behind her, Izuku hadn’t stopped talking. “We’ll have to be cautious—these Vaults are unpredictable, and if this one’s been exposed to ambient ley energy too long, the constructs could be—”

“ Deku. ” Katsuki’s voice was low and sharp as he cinched the last strap on his mount. “Shut up for one second.”

Izuku blinked at him. “I’m giving you vital route information—”

“I don’t need a full damn dissertation before breakfast,” Katsuki muttered, clearly fighting the urge to shove Izuku into the nearest tree.

Rosie, meanwhile, had pulled out her flute.

Perched on a fallen log while the boys argued, she lifted it to her lips and began to play—soft, fluid notes that curled through the fog like sunlight through clouds. The melody was old and lilting, something she remembered from her childhood in Silven. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, each note smoothing the tension in her shoulders, each breath clearing her thoughts.

Izuku finally stopped mid-rant and glanced over. “…That’s pretty,” he admitted sheepishly.

Katsuki huffed, but didn’t protest. He just leaned against a tree, arms crossed, and closed his eyes, letting the music roll through the mist like a ward.

They set out an hour later. The journey was quiet, save for the sounds of hooves crunching on fallen leaves and Izuku’s occasional muttering as he tracked their position. The forest grew denser as they followed the old Myre path—a narrow trail woven between thick trees and overgrown stones, the remnants of some forgotten empire lingering like ghosts.

By midday, they stopped in a small clearing beside a shallow stream. The fog had lifted, replaced by light rain and gray skies that turned the world soft and quiet again. Rosie dismounted first and pulled her satchel off her horse, sitting down on a moss-covered rock with a small, contented sigh.

She handed out two small cloth bundles, each tied neatly with twine. “Lunch.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow as he caught his. “You made this?”

“I did,” Rosie replied with a smile. “Last night.”

Izuku untied his with excitement. “Bread, dried meat, cheese and fruit? Rosie, this is incredible.”

“I’m not useless in a kitchen,” she teased, biting into her bread. “I had to learn while traveling alone. You’d be amazed what you can whip up over a fire when you don’t want to attract attention.”

Katsuki sat next to her without a word and began eating, clearly approving but too prideful to say so.

Izuku chewed thoughtfully, then asked, “Rosie, what was it like? Adventuring on your own, I mean. I know you did missions for coin, but… what kind?”

Rosie paused mid-bite, then lowered her food and leaned back against a rock, eyes thoughtful. “Stealth and assassination,” she said simply. “In and out. No traces. I was good at moving in the dark. I didn’t deal with monsters, or vaults back then—just people. Mostly dangerous ones. I wasn’t too strong or knew much about missions like the ones we have gone on.” She glanced between them. “It was lonely. Effective, but… cold. It was all about completing the job. There were no campfires or companions or shared meals. Just contracts, coin, and silence.”

Izuku looked surprised. “You don’t seem like someone who—”

“Could kill without a sound?” she asked gently.

He hesitated with a slight nod.

Rosie gave a soft shrug. “These days, I’d rather fight beside you both than alone in the dark.”

Katsuki’s eyes flicked toward her. “Good. ‘Cause if you disappear again, I’ll drag you back by your cloak.”

Rosie smiled. “Noted.”

The trio finished their meal with soft conversation and laughter, the rain easing around them like a curtain drawn back. They’d grown into something solid—something that moved in rhythm. And as they packed up their things and continued down the trail, their footsteps and hooves fell in line, steady as a heartbeat.

The mist had thickened again by the time Rosie, Katsuki, and Izuku reached the edge of the ancient ravine. Trees loomed over the path like sentries, their branches clawing at the air as if warning them to turn back. The sunlight barely reached the ground, filtered through layers of leaves and fog, making the forest feel suspended between time and memory.

Rosie slowed her horse to a stop, her ears twitching causing her to narrow her eyes. “We’re close.”

Katsuki dismounted without a word, already scanning the dense underbrush for signs of movement. His gauntlets pulsed faintly, warm against the morning chill. Izuku double-checked the runes scrawled across the map he had been carrying since their last stop, the ink now a dull silver as the Vault’s presence drew nearer.

“Two hundred meters east,” Izuku confirmed. “There's a break in the ground just past the ridge—an old altar site. The Vault should be at the heart of it.”

The air around them vibrated faintly with pressure, like the moment before lightning strikes. Rosie felt it hum in her bones. Magic, old and raw and very angry. She exchanged a quick glance with Katsuki, who gave a tight nod.

They moved forward together, weaving through the undergrowth. The world dimmed further with every step. It wasn't just fog anymore. The light itself seemed to recoil from the Vault's aura, reluctant to touch what lingered here. Then, at the ridge, the trees opened up.

Below them stretched a stone basin choked with moss and blackened vines. At the center, cracked marble steps spiraled down to a jagged altar pulsing with dark light. The Vault pulsed with it—a fractured sphere of obsidian, veins of red lightning crawling across its surface like a heartbeat gone wrong and surrounding it were creatures.

There were at least a dozen, malformed beasts shaped like men but wrong. Limbs too long, backs arched unnaturally, mouths gaping in permanent screams. Their skin shimmered like oil, and their eyes were nothing but sockets of fire. Corrupted constructs, perhaps once guardians of the Vault now twisted by the unchecked magic leaking from it.

Katsuki let out a low growl. “We taking the high ground or going in loud?”

Rosie stepped forward, her light magic flaring to life in her palms. Not gentle this time. This was weaponized—a spear of burning radiance gathering like a miniature star. “Loud.”

Izuku nodded and opened his journal, whispering incantations under his breath as glowing sigils began to swirl around him. “Let’s go. I’ll push right and take three of them. Rosie, you distract the ones in the center with your light while Katsuki blows the southern flank open.”

“Got it,” Katsuki said, already leaping from the ridge.

He landed hard, a shockwave of fiery energy erupting from his gauntlets as he slammed into the earth. Three of the creatures shrieked and turned to charge him, but he met them head-on, fire spiraling around his fists as he exploded forward. One punch sent the first monster into the air, where it disintegrated in a rain of black dust. The others followed soon after.

Rosie sprinted down the side, flipping over a chunk of rubble and releasing a blinding burst of light into the center of the battlefield. The creatures turned toward her with hollow fury, but they hesitated—drawn to the brilliance of her magic, shielding their deformed faces as if the very light scorched them.

She used that hesitation to strike.

Bolts of light lashed out from her fingertips, precise and deadly. She danced through the ruins like a ghost, her magic slicing through the corrupted constructs with elegance and deadly accuracy. Her steps never faltered, even as one of the beasts lunged from her blind side. She twisted mid-air and drove a blade of solid light through its throat.

Izuku was muttering faster now, glyphs spinning around him like a cyclone. He unleashed a burst of green energy that coalesced into a wall of crystalline thorns. Three of the monsters charged it—and were impaled instantly. He didn’t stop, drawing more arcane signs in the air with his hands and creating a sigil that exploded into a barrage of radiant arrows.

“Rosie, your left!” he called.

She turned just in time to duck beneath a swipe. Her magic pulsed again, a dome of light flashing around her like a shield, and the creature hissed as it recoiled. Katsuki blew through the last two creatures on his side with a roar, his gauntlets overloading with energy.

“That all of them?” he shouted.

“One more!” Izuku yelled.

The final beast was crawling out of the Vault itself—larger than the rest, with obsidian horns and a stomach that pulsed like a second heart. Its body dragged black sludge behind it, the ground decaying where it passed. Rosie stepped forward to intercept, but Katsuki grabbed her wrist.

“No,” he said. “We hit it together.”

She nodded, calling light to her hands again. Izuku raised both arms, channeling raw energy into a sigil above them that shone like a second sun. As the creature reared back to attack, the three of them moved.

Katsuki struck first, launching himself forward with twin blasts of fire and punching the creature square in the chest. It staggered, roaring. Rosie followed, firing a concentrated beam of light into its open mouth as it shrieked and Izuku brought the sigil down like a hammer.

The creature shattered.

For a moment, the battlefield was silent except for their breathing. Then, slowly, the Vault’s glow began to dim. The red lightning stopped crawling across its surface. The air stilled.

Izuku stepped forward and opened his journal again, flipping to a page with a binding seal written in blood and starlight. “Ready?” he asked.

Rosie and Katsuki nodded.

He began chanting. The glyphs around the Vault responded, pulsing in time with his words. Rosie added her light to the spell, weaving it into the cracks of the sphere. Katsuki pressed both his hands to the altar stone and funneled controlled explosions into the base, destabilizing the corrupted leyline anchor.

Together, they forced the Vault closed. The obsidian sphere let out a final, eerie whine before collapsing inward, like a dying star. The last light vanished. All that remained was a charred mark on the ground, smoking and still.

Izuku fell back onto a chunk of stone, wiping his brow. “That was a little too close.”

Rosie exhaled slowly, sitting on the steps and letting the last of her magic flicker out. Her body ached, but there was a hum in her chest—not from the light, but from the synergy. The three of them had moved as one. Fought as one. It felt good.

Katsuki slumped beside her. “You’re not bad with that magic now.”

She grinned. “Thanks. You didn’t blow me up this time.”

“That was restraint.”

Izuku laughed. “We make a pretty good team.”

The clouds began to break above them, sunlight streaming through in ribbons. The ancient altar was quiet now.

Rosie looked between the two boys and nodded. “Come on. Let’s go get some rest.”

The tavern was warm, lit by golden lanterns and the low crackle of the hearth. Rain pattered steadily against the windowpanes, a soft percussion that reminded them just how bitter the storm outside had become. Most of the other patrons had retired for the night, leaving the main room quiet save for the occasional clink of a tankard or the murmur of a tired innkeeper cleaning up for the evening.

Rosie sat at the corner table near the fire, cheeks still pink from the cold, her cloak hung near the hearth to dry. Her damp curls clung to her neck and the tops of her shoulders, and she cradled a ceramic mug of warmed mead between her palms as if it were the only thing tethering her to comfort.

Katsuki sprawled in the chair opposite her, one boot propped up on a rung and arms folded over his broad chest. His damp undershirt clung to his skin, steam rising faintly from the fabric as the warmth of the fire did its work. His travel cloak hung nearby, still dripping. A mug of something stronger than mead sat untouched in front of him.

Izuku had gone to bed an hour ago, claiming early preparations were needed for tomorrow’s leg of their journey. Katsuki hadn’t argued. Neither had Rosie. She’d said she needed a drink to warm her up after getting caught in the storm on their way into town.

“You’re quiet,” Katsuki muttered eventually, breaking the silence. He watched her, eyes narrowed and sharp despite the way the firelight softened the angles of his face. “You don’t usually sit still this long unless you’re brooding or thinking.”

Rosie smiled faintly over the rim of her mug. “I was cold.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

Her smile tugged higher at one corner. She tilted her head to the side. “And what if I was thinking?”

“Then I want to know what about.” He leaned forward slightly, elbows braced on his knees. “You never talk about your old missions. From before. When you were on your own.”

Her expression flickered for a moment—something shifting behind her eyes. 

Then she looked down into her mug and said softly, “Because there’s nothing worth telling.”

Katsuki frowned. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not,” she said, still staring into her drink like it held the answers she didn’t want to say out loud. “I wasn’t really living back then, Katsuki. I was just… surviving. I took contracts. Stealth, infiltration, assassination. I stayed quiet, moved through cities without leaving a trace. I avoided other adventurers. I didn’t know how to talk to people—how to be around them. Not the way I do now.”

Katsuki’s brows knit, tension gathering in his jaw. She sounded so matter-of-fact. So distant from it all.

“I didn’t grow up with markets or inns or tavern songs,” Rosie continued, voice low and thoughtful. “I didn’t understand small talk or jokes or why people laughed so easily over drinks. Every time I tried to join a party for a job, I’d end up leaving before the week was through. It was easier to be alone, simpler even.”

She looked up then, eyes bright in the firelight and shining with something quiet but warm. “But since meeting you—and Izuku—I’ve felt something I hadn’t in a long time. Maybe ever. Happy.” Her smile deepened, soft and vulnerable and utterly sincere. “You make me laugh. You tease me. You get angry when I do something stupid, but you always come find me anyway. I just… I wanted to thank you.”

Katsuki froze, like her words had stunned him mid-breath. His ears turned red first, then the color crept down the sides of his neck, spreading fast. He scowled, turning his head to the side like he could pretend she hadn’t just made his heart thump out of rhythm. “You’re such a damn pain in my ass,” he muttered, voice gruff.

Rosie giggled, musical and light, her fingers toying with the edge of her mug. “You’re blushing.”

“Shut up.”

“I think you like being appreciated,” she teased, eyes glittering now with mischief. “You’re all bark and no bite when it comes to me.”

He scoffed. “I’ve got plenty of bite, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, I’m counting on it,” she purred with a playful tilt of her head.

Katsuki groaned and dragged a hand down his face, but there was a half-smile pulling at his mouth, the kind that only she ever managed to earn. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

She leaned forward on her elbows, chin resting in her hand. “You think I’m cute?”

“Rosie.”

“I’m just saying. That’s the second compliment I’ve gotten from you in two days. Should I be worried you’ve been replaced by a doppelgänger?”

Katsuki glared. “Do you want me to carry you upstairs and throw you in a tub of cold water?”

“Tempting, but I’m already warm now,” she said with a smirk, raising her mug in a mock toast before finishing the last of her drink.

Katsuki watched her, expression unreadable for a moment. Then he leaned forward, arms resting on the table between them. His voice dropped low, his tone rough but honest. “You’re not alone anymore. You know that, right?”

She nodded, eyes softening. “I know and I’m grateful. Even when you’re a grump.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes. “Get some sleep before I regret not letting the storm sweep you off the road.”

Rosie stood, draping her half-dried cloak over her shoulders. As she turned to head for the stairs, she paused beside him and leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, just barely grazing the stubble along his jaw.

“You’re my favorite pain in the ass too,” she whispered.

She slipped away, leaving him staring into the fire with a hand pressed to where her lips had been. He muttered something profane under his breath and maybe, just maybe, he smiled.

The next morning dawned gray and overcast, but the rain had finally let up. Mist hung low over the hills as the trio rode out from the little village inn, hooves squelching in the wet, muddy earth as they made their way down a narrow forest trail. The trees stood tall around them, glistening with droplets, their leaves dripping softly with the remnants of the storm.

Izuku rode ahead, scanning the horizon and occasionally consulting the map he’d folded and tucked into a waterproof leather folio. His horse trotted with a steady rhythm, mane damp and tail swishing every so often.

Rosie and Katsuki followed behind him—Rosie on her black mare, cloak hood up, humming a tune under her breath. Katsuki, ever the stormcloud in the morning, slouched a little in his saddle, arms crossed and scowling at the road like it had personally offended him.

“You could’ve told me the bathwater was going to be cold,” Rosie said suddenly, kicking a bit of mud off her boot.

“You’re lucky you got a bath at all, sweetheart,” Katsuki grunted without looking at her.

“Oh, forgive me, your majesty. I wasn’t aware you were the keeper of all plumbing in the realm.”

Izuku glanced over his shoulder, already tense. “Guys…”

“I don’t even know why you complained,” Katsuki added, eyes narrowed. “You were the one stomping around the inn half-soaked last night, talking about needing a drink to ‘warm your soul.’”

“Yeah, because my soul was freezing, thank you very much,” Rosie shot back, tugging her reins as her mare huffed. “Some of us have thinner blood.”

Katsuki snorted. “Some of us are just dramatic.”

Rosie turned in the saddle and gave him a look. “Do you want me to push you off that horse?”

“I dare you.”

“Please don’t,” Izuku said brightly from the front. “We’re almost at the last vault, and I would really appreciate it if we got there with all of our limbs intact.”

“I’ll heal him,” Rosie said sweetly.

“Like hell you will,” Katsuki snapped.

Izuku sighed and rubbed his temples. “This is why I need tea before rides.”

Rosie leaned forward on her mare, glancing over at Katsuki with a smug little smirk. “You know, you get really cranky when you’re not fed. Do you want a snack? I still have cheese in my bag.”

“I’m not a damn goat, Rosie.”

“Are you sure?” she said innocently. “You make the exact noise sometimes.”

Izuku choked on a laugh and quickly turned it into a cough.

Katsuki turned slowly toward her, one brow raised, lips twitching at the corners. “You keep running that smart mouth, and I’m gonna shut it for you.”

Rosie blinked. “With what?”

He gave her a wicked grin. “ What do you think? ”

Her breath caught. The faintest dusting of pink rose to her cheeks. “I—Katsuki!”

Izuku turned so fast in the saddle he nearly dropped his map. “ Kacchan! ”

“What?” Katsuki said, all innocent sarcasm. “I meant kissing . You guys are perverts.”

Rosie buried her face in her cloak’s collar, trying and failing to suppress a squeak.

Izuku groaned and slumped dramatically in his saddle. “This is worse than the cursed crypt. At least there, I didn’t have to listen to this.”

Rosie peeked up again, her voice muffled. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

Katsuki looked far too pleased with himself. “Good. Maybe now you’ll stop trying to throw me off my horse.”

“I didn’t mean it literally,” she mumbled, but her ears were still pink, and she had turned her gaze firmly to the treeline.

“Oh, I know you didn’t,” Katsuki said smoothly. “You wouldn’t risk bruising this .”

She dared a glance back at him.

He smirked.

She turned right back around. “…I hate you,” she muttered.

“No, you don’t,” he replied smugly. “You’re blushing again.”

“I swear to the Saints—”

Izuku loudly cleared his throat and pointed ahead. “Vault’s half a day north. Let’s save the flirty threats until after we close it?”

Katsuki leaned back in his saddle, arms behind his head, thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’m good with that.”

Rosie kept her face turned away, though a smile crept up despite herself. “Only if he promises not to flirt at me during battle.”

“No promises,” Katsuki said. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Her groan echoed through the trees, followed closely by Izuku’s weary, “ I’m traveling with children. ”

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled again—though whether from the storm or Katsuki’s laughter, no one could say for sure.

The final vault stood like a forgotten tomb buried in stone—wedged between two crumbling cliffs deep in the basin of a dead valley. Gnarled roots clawed down the walls like fingers, and the air was so still it almost buzzed, too quiet, too heavy, thick with ancient magic. Rainclouds churned overhead but didn’t break; it was the kind of air that waited for something to go wrong.

Izuku stood near the stone door, his gloved fingers tracing the indentations of old glyphs. “Looks like… some kind of trial. It won’t open unless we each take a different path.”

Rosie peered into the archways as they slowly began to open—three tunnels, each one yawning like a waiting mouth. One curved down into flickering green light, another glowed red with faint heat rising from its entrance, and the third was pitch black, its silence absolute.

Katsuki’s arms were already folded. “Of course it separates us. Fuckin’ trap if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Maybe,” Izuku said softly, “but the only way to seal this vault is from inside—and it looks like the mechanism requires three switches, one in each tunnel.”

Katsuki scowled, then turned to Rosie, jaw clenched. “You’re taking the one with no light? Hell no.”

Rosie tilted her head and smiled faintly. “I am the light, remember?”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” She turned and pulled out her dagger, the steel gleaming faintly even in the dim. She spun it lightly, then pointed it at both of them in a mock-threatening gesture. “Listen. You two better not fight while I’m gone. I mean it. No yelling, no insults, and definitely no blowing up the entire hallway.”

Izuku raised both hands. “I wasn’t planning on it!”

Katsuki growled. “Don’t be an idiot, Rosie. Shout if you get overwhelmed—hell, just run if you have to.”

Rosie’s smile softened as she looked at him, her light eyes catching a shimmer of the red glow from his tunnel. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got my magic, my dagger, and the overwhelming urge to finish this quest so I can take a very long bath.”

Katsuki’s brows furrowed, frustration and worry swirling in his chest. But she was already turning, stepping backward into the dark tunnel with a small wave.

“I’ll see you boys on the other side.”

Then she was gone—swallowed whole by blackness.

The dark tunnel closed around her like a living thing, suffocating in its silence. Rosie summoned a flicker of her light magic with a snap of her fingers—a pale orb of glow hovering near her shoulder as she crept forward. Her footsteps were nearly silent, her blade already out, breath controlled, steady.

The first creature lunged from the ceiling.

She didn’t flinch.

Her dagger whipped up, catching the edge of its gnarled neck, and the thing hissed—its body melting into shadows before it hit the ground. She spun on her heel and sliced through another, then kicked off the wall to flip over a third as it snarled from the shadows.

These ones are fast, she thought, but not smart.

More came—misshapen, skeletal things that moved like spiders but shrieked like banshees. She fought low and tight, light magic flaring in short bursts from her hands to blind or stun. Her dagger moved like silver lightning, cutting through tendon and shadow alike.

She ducked, rolled, stabbed. Light flared like a pulse with every strike.

She breathed hard but steady.

Then… silence.

Rosie stood there for a beat, heart pounding but stable. “Okay,” she muttered, wiping blood off her dagger. “That wasn’t so bad.”

A shriek tore through the tunnel behind her.

She spun.

The next wave was larger. Faster.

“Oh saints,” she hissed—and then she ran.

Her boots skidded on stone as she bolted down the corridor, one hand shooting a beam of light magic behind her to stun them, the other gripping her dagger tightly. The creatures howled, claws clacking against the floor, faster than the first.

Think. Think.

Rosie vaulted up a broken pillar, jumped to a crumbling ledge along the tunnel wall, then swung herself upward onto a higher platform. The beasts scrambled after her—but now she had the high ground.

She turned.

A radiant flare erupted from her palm and exploded midair, casting the whole tunnel in brilliant white light. The creatures shrieked, blinded—stumbling.

She leapt from the ledge and spun in the air, landing dagger-first into the throat of the closest beast. Her foot slammed into another, sending it toppling. Light shimmered along her blade’s edge now—charged, glowing, hot.

She ducked, twisted, sliced. One by one, she cut them down—using the narrow ledges, the wall itself, the ceiling. Her body moved with fluid grace—flips, kicks, light magic in pulses to strike or disorient. 

By the time the last creature crumbled into ash, Rosie stood panting, bruised, and blood-smeared—glowing faintly from within. “Still alive,” she whispered, brushing damp hair from her brow. “Still got it.”

She stepped into the next chamber.

Her breath caught.

It was… beautiful.

Nothing but smooth black stone stretched before her, walls carved in perfect symmetry. Glowing sigils lined every inch, weaving up and around like constellations brought to life. Golden-white light pulsed softly from each mark, the language older than any she knew.

Rosie stepped forward slowly, reverently, eyes scanning each symbol. They responded to her presence, glowing brighter as she passed.

At the center stood a pedestal.

A switch.

The final one.

But first, she turned and looked back at the tunnel, whispering to herself, “You better be okay, Katsuki. You and Izuku both.”

Then she faced the vault’s heart and walked toward her part in sealing it, her fingers still glowing with light.

The switch was a curious thing—unlike the mechanical levers or enchanted gems of the previous vaults. This was a thin, golden rod embedded in obsidian, flanked by two pulsing sigils, and humming with barely-contained power. She reached toward it cautiously, her fingers crackling with residual light magic. As soon as she touched it, the symbols on the walls flared brighter, cascading in a wave of illumination that ran along the chamber like falling stars.

She exhaled slowly. The magic accepted her.

Then, a deep thrumming filled the air, low and thunderous, and a glowing thread of light shot down the tunnel behind her—outward, toward the other paths.

They must have reached their pedestals too.

Rosie grasped the switch, and pulled.

For a breathless second, everything stilled.

Then the vault roared to life.

Katsuki slammed his fist into the last creature’s skull, letting its body crumple with a smoking hiss against the stones. He was breathing hard, sparks still arcing from his palms.

“Tch.” He wiped blood from his cheek with the back of his glove and looked toward the shimmering pedestal at the end of his own corridor.

The second he laid his hand on it, the golden thread of light surged through the chamber—meeting another that came from the third tunnel. His jaw tightened.

“Rosie…” he muttered.

She was alive.

Without wasting a second, he slammed the switch down.

Izuku had just finished sketching the last of the runes in his notebook—mind racing with what ancient magic could have constructed a seal like this. The monsters he’d faced were less aggressive, more like illusions testing his intelligence and reflexes than his strength. But they’d been enough of a distraction.

The pedestal glowed, reacting to his touch just as the others must have done. He stared for a moment, whispering, “It’s all connected… soul-bound switches, one to each champion. The vault must have been sealed by trios like us in the past. Designed for trust. For balance.”

Then he pulled the switch.

And all three chambers lit as one.

Rosie gasped as the air shifted—magic pulsing through the stone like a heartbeat. From deep beneath her feet, the vault responded with a dull grinding rumble. The floor beneath her vibrated, sigils twisting into new patterns before fading entirely.

Her light flickered, dimmed, and then steadied. A doorway opened behind the pedestal, revealing a circular stair. She didn’t hesitate.

The trio emerged nearly at the same time from their respective tunnels, stepping into the heart of the vault. It was a massive domed chamber, with a high ceiling inlaid with gold and crystal that shimmered with their combined light magic. Pillars of stone surrounded a raised platform in the center, where an ancient seal spun slowly in the air—composed of shifting runes, firelight, and soft wind.

Rosie spotted them both and ran up first, boots echoing on the marble. “You’re both okay?”

Katsuki looked her over, eyes narrowing at the fresh blood smeared on her forearm and across her ribs. “What the hell happened to you?”

She grinned, wiping sweat from her temple. “You should see the other guys.”

Izuku snorted, stepping up with a relieved smile. “You made it through. We all did. That was the last one.”

Rosie looked up at the spinning seal and slowly approached. “So… how do we close it for good?”

Izuku opened his notebook and pointed to the inscription beneath the central seal. “We each place our hand here, where the three glyphs intersect. Then we channel a piece of our magic into it.”

Rosie nodded.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles and stepped up. “Let’s finish this.”

They each placed their hand on the pedestal.

At once, the seal flared. Flames curled from Katsuki’s fingertips, green lightning sparked from Izuku’s palm, and golden light glowed from Rosie’s hand—spreading like liquid sunlight.

The runes spun faster, absorbing their energy, the vault began to quake.

“Get ready to jump back,” Izuku warned, already crouching. “Once it takes in our magic, it’ll collapse the chamber and bury itself.”

“Better not collapse on us,” Katsuki growled.

Rosie laughed, her hand still steady. “Have a little faith.”

Then, a final pulse burst from the center—and with a thunderous boom , the seal shattered into a million shards of light. The walls cracked and groaned, the ground shaking beneath them.

They all jumped off the platform as the magic surged upward, a column of golden energy shooting into the sky through the cracks in the ceiling. The vault walls began to sink inward. The trio sprinted for the tunnel leading back to the surface. They emerged into the blinding daylight just as the earth beneath them rumbled once more. Behind them, the entire vault entrance crumbled—stone folding in on itself until only a smooth, sealed scar remained in the earth.

It was done.

The final vault was closed.

Rosie bent over with her hands on her knees, laughing as the wind whipped through her rain-dampened hair. “Saints, I’m gonna sleep for three days .”

Katsuki slumped against a boulder, glaring at her. “If I hear one more stupid cryptic prophecy or magical puzzle, I’m throwing someone through a wall.”

“You say that every time,” she teased, flopping down beside him.

Izuku stood with his hands on his hips, grinning like a child who just solved a riddle box. “You two were incredible in there. We make a pretty great team.”

Rosie leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the sky. “We really do.”

There was a long, warm silence between them—sunlight breaking through the clouds, wind sweeping over the grass, and the sound of magic quiet at last. They had sealed the final vault and completed their mission. 

The forest was thick with mist, the light of the moon barely piercing the thick canopy overhead. It was damp, humid, and everything stank of wet fur and blood.

Weredogs.

A whole pack of them—snarling, frothing beasts, twisted remnants of a once-human village cursed by lycanthropy and desperation. Their limbs were longer than natural, claws jagged, and their eyes gleamed a sickly yellow. The trio had stumbled onto the hunting grounds of the pack mid-mission while investigating a corrupted leyline in the Korran woods.

Currently, they were very, very outnumbered.

“You were the one who said not to light the torch, Deku!” Katsuki shouted as he spun and blasted a pair of weredogs lunging for him, the force of the explosion shaking the underbrush.

“I said not to light it right next to the leyline ! That was a huge magical surge waiting to happen!” Izuku shouted back, slicing a green arc of compressed air through a charging beast.

Rosie, who was currently vaulting over a fallen log while deflecting snapping jaws with a gleaming light-forged blade, scoffed. “I said we should’ve waited until morning! But nooo, someone wanted to ‘get a head start.’” She threw a glare at both of them.

“I always want a head start!” Katsuki snarled, blasting a third beast midair. “How the hell is that a bad thing?!”

“You literally punched a cursed totem and said ‘this looks fake!’” Izuku yelled, ducking under claws and slamming his boot into a weredog’s snout.

“It did look fake!”

Rosie leapt up and landed gracefully on a boulder. “Okay but that doesn’t explain why you licked it. ”

“I didn’t lick it, I was checking the damn—LOOK OUT!”

The growl was low and close.

Rosie turned just as one of the larger weredogs launched at her from the side—its claws catching her ribs, sending her tumbling hard onto the mossy ground. Wind knocked from her lungs, she didn’t have time to scream. Another one bounded toward her, fangs bared and saliva dripping.

Then an explosion rocked the air—searing orange light crackling just inches from her face. The blast sent the creature flying, its body smacking into a tree and crumpling with a wet thud.

She blinked through the smoke.

Katsuki stood over her, one hand still sparking, the other extended.

“Quit spacing out, dumbass.”

Her chest heaved, half from the blow, half from the view—Katsuki's armor scuffed and bloodied, his blonde hair messy and sticking to his forehead, his red eyes flashing with irritation and something else… concern.

She reached up and took his hand. “Was that your version of being romantic?”

“Romantic?” He tugged her up fast, enough to make her stumble into him.

“I mean… you did just save my life,” she said, raising a brow. “That’s usually the part where you sweep me into your arms and call me ‘princess’ or something.”

He snorted. “You’re more like a menace than a princess.”

Rosie smirked, brushing a leaf from her shoulder. “C’mon, admit it. You were worried about me.”

“I was worried you were gonna die and leave me with the nerd. That’s not concern, that’s self-preservation .”

“Uh-huh,” she said, stepping in just a little closer, her grin sharpening. “Well, self-preserve me again sometime, sweetheart.”

His eye twitched. “Keep talkin’ and I might.”

“Oh my gods,” Izuku groaned in the distance, still fighting off two more weredogs with spinning wind-slices. “Can you two flirt later ?! We’re still surrounded!”

Rosie laughed and took off in a sprint, light blazing from her palms as she summoned a whip of glowing magic and cracked it at the nearest beast.

Katsuki watched her go, jaw tight, a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Menace,” he muttered again.

But he followed her anyway.

The last of the weredogs collapsed with a pained, gurgling snarl, its body twitching once before going still. The glade fell quiet—eerily so. No birds, no wind. Just the lingering scent of ash, sweat, and the iron tang of blood.

Izuku bent over, hands on his knees, panting heavily. His clothes were torn in several places, dirt smudged across his freckled face. “You two…” huff “…are absolutely insane .”

Behind him, Rosie and Katsuki were leaning on a fallen log, laughing like they'd just walked out of a tavern brawl, not survived a brutal battle with cursed beasts.

Rosie had pulled her hair free of its braid, shaking it out as she grinned at Katsuki. “Did you see that last one? It almost got you—but then I got it first. You owe me.”

Katsuki scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest, black gauntlets still smoking faintly. “You clipped its tail, barely. I had it handled.”

“Oh sure,” she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. “Just like you ‘handled’ that one trying to rip my throat out.”

“I did. You’re welcome.”

Izuku let out a strangled groan and pointed at them accusingly. “That! That right there! You’re bantering ! You’re flirting ! Mid-battle!”

Rosie turned to him, still beaming. “You say that like it didn’t work.”

“It’s not supposed to work ! You’re supposed to focus! Stay tactical! Avoid unnecessary risks!” He was pacing now, gesturing wildly with one arm while holding his injured side with the other. “Rosie, you were literally spinning while casting. And you—” He jabbed a finger at Katsuki. “You took a bite to the arm and punched the thing in the face instead of dodging!”

Katsuki shrugged. “I did dodge. Just… after.”

Rosie nodded along with a serene smile, completely unaffected by the lecture. “Mmhmm. Yes, we’ll do better next time.”

“You’re not even listening!”

“We are, Izuku,” she sang, spinning slowly on her heel like a dancer in an empty ballroom. “Every word.”

“ You’re humming! ”

Katsuki chuckled low in his throat, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Let it go, nerd. We’re alive, they’re not. That’s what matters.”

Izuku stared at them both, arms out, mouth opening and closing as though searching for any remaining thread of argument.

“…I don’t get paid enough for this,” he finally muttered, slumping down onto a flat rock and resting his head in his hands.

Rosie bounced over and crouched beside him, her hand patting his back gently. “There, there. You kept us alive too, you know. Don’t downplay yourself. Your tornadoes were very spinny.”

“They’re called cyclone arcs,” he grumbled.

“Very spinny cyclone arcs,” she corrected, giggling as he groaned.

Katsuki moved to lean against a tree trunk, arms crossed again, watching them both with something resembling fond exasperation. His expression softened slightly as Rosie stood, brushing herself off and turning toward the forest path ahead.

“Well,” she said brightly, “we should probably keep moving. That ancient temple isn’t going to find itself. And if the lost archeologist is still alive in there, he probably won’t appreciate us showing up after a six-hour nap.”

Izuku looked up with tired eyes. “Please tell me you’re not planning to flirt in the temple too.”

Rosie tilted her head, pretending to think. “Mmm. No promises.”

Katsuki smirked, pushing off the tree and rolling his shoulders. “C’mon let's go.”

Izuku groaned again.

Rosie grinned and reached into her pouch, tossing each of them a small healing vial. “Alright, boys. Patch up, hydrate, and let’s go spelunking. If I have to kill another cursed beast tonight, I want it to at least be near ancient architecture.”

They headed off into the foggy trees once more—Rosie whistling, Katsuki smirking, and Izuku muttering to himself about the dangers of pairing two chaotic people on the same team. But still, he followed.

Because somehow, together, they made it work.

The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of gold and plum, when they finally found the ruins nestled deep in the jungle's edge. The structure was mostly collapsed—an old temple buried under time and thick vines—but inside the shattered main chamber, half-covered in dust and stone debris, they found him.

The lost archeologist.

He looked up at them with wide, sunken eyes, cheeks hollow from days without proper food. His once-bright uniform was torn and stained, his arm bound in a poor makeshift sling. “Saints,” he whispered, voice cracking, “you actually found me.”

Izuku rushed forward with concern etched in every line of his face. “Stay still—we’re here to help. We’re from the guild. You’re Dr. Salen, right?”

The man nodded weakly. Rosie was already moving, digging into her satchel for supplies. She knelt beside him, pulling out a carefully wrapped bundle of food and uncorking a waterskin. “Here,” she said softly. “Small bites. Sip slowly.”

His fingers trembled as he took the bread and dried fruit she offered, as though afraid she might vanish. “You’re… you’re glowing,” he murmured, eyes transfixed by the light gently radiating from her palms. “Like an angel.”

Katsuki stiffened slightly nearby, jaw clenching.

Rosie offered the man a kind smile, the edges of her magic already drifting from her hands to the gash along his thigh. The soft, silver light stitched skin and sinew with painstaking care, a warm hum filling the air around them.

“I thought I was going to die down here,” Dr. Salen said, taking another bite. “I got separated when the floor collapsed beneath us. The rest of the team… they tried to dig me out, but I think the cave-in sealed the lower chambers. I’ve been surviving on stagnant water and dried roots for five days.”

Izuku scribbled notes furiously. “You’re lucky you managed to stay conscious. You must’ve been calling out when we arrived—I could sense the shift in aura from a mile off.”

“I was praying to the Saintess of light,” the archeologist admitted. Then, his eyes flicked back to Rosie, full of awed gratitude. “And you showed up like a vision.”

Rosie didn’t seem to notice the way he looked at her. But Katsuki did. He watched from a distance, arms crossed, a steady scowl on his face as the archeologist continued to sing Rosie’s praises between bites and gulps of water. Each time the man’s eyes lingered too long on her glowing hands or the way her braid curled over her shoulder, Katsuki’s fingers twitched, itching for something to punch.

When Rosie finally leaned back with a quiet exhale, the light from her palms dimming, she smiled faintly and started to stand. “There,” she murmured. “You’ll be sore for a while, but your bones are healed and your muscles will recover with rest.”

But the moment she straightened, her knees buckled.

“Whoa—” Katsuki moved like lightning, catching her around the waist before she could fall. “Tch. Idiot.”

She leaned into his chest, breath shallow, her skin pale. “Used… a bit too much,” she mumbled. “Didn’t wanna hurt him.”

“Dumbass,” he growled under his breath. “You should’ve told me you were running low.”

“I’m fine—”

“You’re not walking.” He bent slightly and pulled her onto his back with practiced ease, her arms draping loosely around his shoulders, her cheek resting against his back.

“I could walk,” she protested weakly.

“You won’t, ” he snapped, glaring at the archeologist, who looked momentarily stunned. “And you —get moving.”

Dr. Salen blinked, clearly unsure how to respond. “R-right. Of course.”

Izuku, sensing the rising tension, quickly stepped in to distract the archeologist. “So, tell me more about the team you were with. We need to file a full recovery report once we’re back in town. Did you leave any markers or signal glyphs?”

As the two walked ahead, engaged in rapid conversation, Katsuki lagged behind with Rosie nestled against his back. She was light—too light, he thought irritably. She gave too much of herself every damn time.

Her voice was soft, nearly lost in the jungle sounds. “Thank you… for carrying me.”

He grunted in reply, adjusting her slightly so her arms wouldn’t slip.

She smiled faintly against the fabric of his cloak, her fingers curling loosely in the edge of it. “You’re very warm.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re delirious.”

“Maybe.” A breath of laughter tickled the back of his neck. “But I think you like it when I lean on you.”

“Tch. You’re a pain in my ass.”

“And yet, here you are. Carrying me through a forest like some broody, smoldering hero from a cheesy tavern story.”

He shot her a glare over his shoulder, though the flush on his ears betrayed him. “Shut up.”

Rosie just grinned and nuzzled closer, her voice fading into something quieter. “I’m glad you came into my life, Katsuki.”

He said nothing, just kept walking, but his grip on her legs tightened slightly—gentler than before. Protective.

In the fading dusk, with her heartbeat soft against his back, Katsuki let himself carry her not just through the jungle, but through the quiet, unspoken promise that as long as he was breathing—she would never be alone again.

Chapter Text

Perlyington was alive with the scent of flowers, the streets bustling with vendors selling vibrant bouquets, lush plants, and petals of every imaginable color. As they rode into town, Katsuki couldn’t help but notice the instant joy in Rosie’s eyes, her excitement palpable as she dismounted her horse to examine the floral displays. Katsuki held the reins of Dynamite and Divine, following after her with a subtle sense of protectiveness, though he’d never admit it out loud.

“We should stop in the next town,” Rosie had said earlier, her excitement about Perlyington’s famous flowers hardly dulled by the events of the night before.

She hadn’t shown any signs of fear or hesitation since, much to Katsuki’s relief. He’d barely slept, having spent most of the night outside her tent, keeping watch to ensure her safety after the close call with the mercenary. But now, watching her flit from booth to booth, her energy lifted some of the weight off his shoulders.

“This is such a beautiful flower,” Rosie exclaimed, her eyes landing on a booth filled with delicate white blooms that shimmered faintly in the daylight. “What’s it called?”

The girl behind the booth, a brunette with short hair and big brown eyes, beamed at her. “Those are called moonbells. They glow at night. They’re pretty rare.”

“They’re gorgeous,” Rosie gushed, clapping her hands in delight. “How much?”

“Ten silvers,” the vendor smiled, her eyes warm with pride over the rare flower.

Without hesitation, Rosie pulled out a gold coin and placed it on the counter. “Here you go!”

The vendor blinked in surprise, her eyes wide. “That’s too much! This is only worth—”

Rosie waved her off, smiling kindly. “Then just give the next nine away for free if it bothers you that much.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, a familiar grumble escaping his lips. “Idiot,” he muttered under his breath.

Rosie ignored him, cradling the moonbell flower in her hands like it was a treasure.

The vendor laughed, still a little flustered. “Are you an adventurer?” she asked curiously, her gaze flicking between Rosie and Katsuki.

“We are,” Rosie replied with a bright smile. “Just finished a mission and we’re looking for another.”

The woman behind the booth lit up. “I’ve always wanted to be an adventurer!” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm genuine.

Rosie extended her hand, her kindness always at the forefront. “I’m Rosie, and this is Katsuki.”

Katsuki nodded gruffly, crossing his arms as he gave the vendor a brief, assessing look.

“My name is Uraraka Ochako,” the woman said, shaking Rosie’s hand with a beaming smile.

Before they could continue their conversation, Deku arrived at their side, looking slightly out of breath. “I was wondering where you two ran off to,” he said before turning to the vendor. The moment his eyes landed on her, his face went crimson.

Rosie, ever perceptive, grinned slyly. “Deku, this is Uraraka. She said she’s always wanted to be an adventurer.”

Deku’s blush deepened, and he stammered, “R-Really? That’s… that’s cool.”

Uraraka smiled at him, her own cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Yeah! I’m actually a ranger. I can use magic and communicate with animals.”

Deku’s eyes widened in awe. “A ranger? That’s amazing! I’ve never met a ranger before.”

Rosie, clearly pleased with the budding connection between the two, chimed in, “We’re heading to the guild later to find another job. If you’re interested, you should join us!”

Uraraka’s eyes lit up, her excitement barely contained. “Are you serious? You’d really let me join your party?”

Rosie nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! Meet us at the tavern tonight if you’re up for it.”

Uraraka’s smile grew even wider. “I’ll definitely think about it! Thank you.”

As Rosie moved on to the next booth, Katsuki stayed back for a moment, glaring at her. “What the hell?” he grumbled under his breath. “Why did you invite her?”

Rosie gave him a sidelong glance as she admired a display of vibrant tulips. “Deku has a crush on her,” she said with a teasing smile, “and besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have a ranger in our party. Her skills could be useful.”

Katsuki scowled. “You’re too damn soft.”

Rosie just shrugged, plucking another flower from the booth and handing over a coin to the vendor before moving to the next stall. Each stop was the same—she’d find a flower she liked, exchange some coins, and carefully cradle the bloom as if it were a piece of priceless art.

Finally, after she’d bought at least five different flowers, Katsuki couldn’t hold back his annoyance any longer. “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, watching as she lovingly wrapped another delicate bloom in cloth. “Why are you buying so many flowers? You can’t carry them all, and they’re just going to wilt.”

Rosie turned to him, her eyes soft, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I want to remember them,” she said simply.

He frowned. “What?”

“I want to remember these moments, these towns, the places we visit,” she explained, holding up a small, colorful flower. “Each one of these flowers will remind me of where we’ve been. Even when they wilt, I’ll press them in my journal. That way, I’ll always have a piece of the journey with me.”

Katsuki stared at her, at the quiet sincerity in her voice. He wanted to tell her it was ridiculous, impractical even. But something about the way she said it made him pause. Her excitement, her love for every little detail—it was part of what made her so different from him. And as much as he hated to admit it, that difference was also why he cared so damn much.

He huffed, turning away before she could catch him looking too soft. “Do what you want,” he muttered. “Just don’t slow us down with all that crap.”

Rosie laughed lightly, her warm voice cutting through his gruffness. “I won’t. Promise.”

As they continued to stroll through the flower-lined streets of Perlyington, with Rosie collecting memories. He realized he didn’t mind following Rosie on these seemingly aimless adventures, as long as she stayed smiling.

The tavern bustled with life as Rosie, Katsuki, Deku, and Uraraka sat together around a sturdy wooden table. The smell of roasted meats, fresh bread, and the sound of lively chatter filled the air, creating an atmosphere that felt both relaxed and warm. Rosie leaned back in her chair, a smile tugging at her lips as she glanced over at Deku and Uraraka, who were already deep in conversation about the mission they had just completed.

"I'm really glad you could join us, Uraraka," Rosie said, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth as she caught the ranger’s attention.

Uraraka returned the smile with an eager nod. “Thank you for the offer! I promise I'll hold my own in a fight. I’ve been training for a while now, and I’m excited to see what adventures lie ahead.”

Rosie waved a hand dismissively, her tone light. “No need to worry about that. We’re happy to have you, and we’ll all have each other’s backs. Besides, it’ll be good to have a ranger with us for a change of pace.”

Katsuki, sitting beside Rosie, grunted into his ale mug. He wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation but kept a close eye on Deku and Uraraka. Deku, ever the talker when it came to explaining things, was going on about how they’d caught the mercenaries and rescued Rosie the night before.

“The mercenaries were tough, but once we figured out who they were, it was pretty straightforward,” Deku explained enthusiastically, leaning forward, his eyes bright with excitement. “Rosie helped us a lot with her signals, and Katsuki was incredible in the fight.”

Uraraka looked genuinely impressed as she listened, her eyes wide with admiration. “Wow, that sounds intense. I can’t wait to get out there with you guys and help. I’m pretty good with a bow and close combat too, so hopefully, I can pull my weight!”

“You’ll be fine,” Rosie assured her with a smile. “We’ll take care of each other.”

As the food arrived—plates filled with roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread—the four of them dug in. Rosie ate eagerly, her energy never seeming to wane, while Katsuki sat silently beside her, drinking his ale and keeping to himself. His eyes, however, would occasionally flicker toward her, making sure she was okay, though he’d never admit it.

As they ate, the conversation shifted to their plans after lunch. They were heading to the next town, where the guild hall awaited them with fresh missions.

“We’ll head to the guild hall in the next town after we finish up here,” Rosie explained as she sipped her drink. “We can pick something more challenging this time since we’ll have Uraraka with us. A bigger party means more opportunity.”

Deku smiled brightly at Uraraka. “You’re going to love it! The guild always has interesting jobs, and with your skills, we’ll be able to take on some bigger missions.”

Rosie noticed Uraraka’s cheeks turn pink under Deku’s gaze. She seemed a little shy but clearly excited. "It'll be great to have someone with your abilities around," Deku added, practically glowing with excitement.

Once the plates were cleared and the last of their drinks finished, they gathered outside the tavern, ready to head to the next town. Katsuki walked ahead, securing the horses as Rosie checked their provisions. It was then that she noticed Uraraka standing awkwardly to the side, eyeing their mounts with a mix of admiration and uncertainty.

“Do you have a horse, Uraraka?” Rosie asked, catching the new ranger’s hesitant expression.

Uraraka shook her head, her blush deepening. “I don’t… I, um, haven’t been able to afford one yet. I’ve mostly been traveling on foot.”

Katsuki, who was busy tightening the saddle straps, glanced over his shoulder with a scowl. “Tch. She can ride with Deku,” he stated.

The moment Katsuki suggested that Uraraka ride with Deku, the blush on Deku’s face deepened to a near crimson, his hands fumbling nervously as he tried to stammer out a response. “I-I, uh, I mean, sure, if Uraraka’s okay with it!”

Rosie had to bite back a laugh as she noticed the flustered look on Deku’s face. She turned to Uraraka, who seemed equally embarrassed. Rosie took pity on the two and smiled, “No worries! You can take Divine,” she said with a bright smile, offering her own horse. “I’ll ride with Katsuki.”

“Are you sure?” Uraraka asked, “I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“Katsuki doesn’t mind,” she smiled and then turned to him as he was already mounted atop of Dynamite. “Do you?”

His only response was leaning down, wrapping his arm around her and hoisting her up onto the saddle in front of him. “We’re wasting time, get on the horse and let's go ranger.”

Katsuki was clearly not amused by the matchmaking, but Rosie just shrugged it off with a grin. She was determined to let Deku have a chance to bond with Uraraka, and if that meant a little teasing along the way, so be it.

As Uraraka mounted Divine, they set off, the group fell into a comfortable rhythm. The town of Perlyington disappeared behind them, its vibrant flowers and bustling streets becoming a memory as they traveled toward their next adventure.

As they rode out of Perlyington, the evening sun bathed the path in a warm golden hue. Rosie was comfortably settled in front of Katsuki, her back pressed lightly against his chest. His strong arms were on either side of her, holding the reins, and she could feel the subtle tension in his body, though his hold on her was secure and steady.

The rhythmic clop of the horses’ hooves filled the air as they traveled, with Deku and Uraraka riding just a few paces ahead, lost in their own conversation. Rosie could see how nervously Deku stole glances at Uraraka every now and then, causing a small smile to tug at her lips.

Feeling Katsuki’s body heat against her back, she leaned her head slightly to the side, glancing up at him with a soft smile. “Thanks for letting Uraraka join us,” she said, her voice gentle.

Katsuki’s grip on the reins tightened slightly, and he let out a low grunt in response. “Whatever. It’s not like I had a choice,” he mumbled, though there was no real irritation in his voice. It was more of an automatic response—one she was used to by now.

Rosie chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she settled back more comfortably against him. “I knew you’d be fine with it,” she teased lightly.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? Or maybe you just wanted an excuse to ride with me. Couldn’t stand the idea of being away from me for a while, huh?” His tone was teasing, his voice rumbling low in her ear.

Rosie’s eyes widened in mock disbelief, her cheeks flushing slightly at his boldness. “Excuse me?” she said, turning in the saddle to look up at him more directly, though she couldn’t hide the smile creeping up on her face. “I only gave up my horse because Uraraka didn’t have one. You’re delusional if you think I wanted to ride with you.”

Katsuki’s smirk widened, clearly amused by her reaction. “Sure, elf. Whatever you say,” he replied, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. His crimson eyes gleamed with a knowing look, as if he could see right through her words.

Rosie rolled her eyes at him, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. Without warning, she elbowed him gently in the stomach, her action more affectionate than aggressive. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though the smile on her face gave her away.

Katsuki barely flinched at the nudge, his smirk never faltering. “Hah, you didn’t deny it, though,” he teased further, leaning down slightly so that his breath brushed against her ear, making her shiver despite herself. “Admit it, you like being close to me.”

Rosie felt a rush of warmth spread across her cheeks, but she wasn’t about to let him win that easily. She glanced back at him with narrowed eyes and a playful grin of her own. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” she quipped, tilting her head slightly. “I’ll admit, riding with you isn’t completely awful… but don’t get used to it.”

Katsuki chuckled softly, a rare sound from him, but one that made Rosie’s heart skip a beat. “Too late. I think I’m getting used to it already,” he shot back, his voice low and teasing.

Rosie shook her head, biting her lip to suppress a laugh. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Maybe. But you wouldn’t have it any other way,” Katsuki replied, his tone softening ever so slightly, though the teasing edge was still there.

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them as they continued to ride, the sounds of the forest and the soft murmurs of Deku and Uraraka ahead filling the air. Rosie’s heart felt light, despite the banter, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace with Katsuki so close.

After a while, Katsuki’s voice broke the quiet again, softer this time. “You’re special, you know,” he said, echoing her earlier words. There was something genuine in his tone that caught her off guard.

Rosie blinked, surprised by his sudden sincerity, and glanced up at him. “Oh? What makes you say that?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Katsuki’s eyes stayed focused ahead, but there was a flicker of something warm in his gaze. “Not just because you’re an elf or whatever. You… you’ve got guts. And you’re not annoying—most of the time,” he added with a smirk.

Rosie laughed softly, shaking her head. “Well, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Katsuki,” she teased, though she appreciated the sentiment behind his words.

“Don’t let it go to your head, elf,” he muttered, though there was a faint softness in his voice that betrayed his usual rough exterior.

Rosie just smiled, feeling the warmth of his presence as they continued riding together. It wasn’t often that Katsuki let down his walls, but in moments like these, she felt like she was seeing a side of him that few ever got to witness.

The sun was beginning its descent over the horizon, casting an amber glow over the dense forest. Uraraka, Deku, Katsuki, and Rosie had been tracking the group of orcs for hours now, following their crude tracks through the underbrush as they made their way along the highroad. Reports from nearby towns spoke of merchants being ambushed, their caravans looted and burned. The few survivors spoke of savage orcs—ruthless and efficient.

They’d taken the job.

As they reached a small clearing, Uraraka raised her hand, signaling for the group to stop. She knelt to the ground, her keen eyes scanning the surroundings. "They’re close," she whispered, her voice barely a breath on the wind. Her ranger abilities allowed her to track the movements of animals and people with exceptional precision, and right now, her senses were on high alert.

“What do you see?” Deku asked, moving to her side, his green eyes flicking back and forth between her and the forest.

“There are birds nearby,” Uraraka replied, her eyes narrowing as she focused on a small flock of crows perched in the trees just ahead. “I can ask them what they’ve seen.”

Katsuki crossed his arms, leaning against a tree with a skeptical scowl. "Birds? You’re gonna ask a bunch of damn birds for help? This is ridiculous."

Rosie gave Katsuki a playful elbow in the side. "Give her a chance, Katsuki. Uraraka’s abilities have been helpful so far, haven’t they?"

“Tch,” Katsuki grumbled, but he didn’t argue further, his crimson eyes watching as Uraraka stepped forward and raised her hands towards the crows.

Uraraka closed her eyes, reaching out with her ranger magic, focusing on the connection she had with the natural world around her. Slowly, the birds responded. A soft rustling of wings filled the air as the crows flapped down from the branches, circling above her before landing nearby, their dark eyes fixating on the group.

“They’ve seen the orcs,” Uraraka said softly, her eyes still closed. “They’re in a camp about a mile ahead, just past the riverbank. There are at least ten of them… and they’re sleeping.”

“Perfect,” Katsuki said, a dangerous grin spreading across his face as he cracked his knuckles. “We’ll catch them off guard. Burn the bastards before they even know what hit them.”

Deku nodded in agreement, his hand already glowing with magical energy. "We’ll have the element of surprise."

Rosie, however, rested her hand on her bow, glancing at Uraraka. "Did the crows say anything about traps? Or are the orcs just careless?"

Uraraka opened her eyes and shook her head. "No traps. They seem overconfident, maybe even a bit lazy."

Rosie smiled. "Then let’s take advantage of that."

The group moved in silence, their footsteps carefully placed to avoid making noise as they approached the riverbank. They could hear the faint snores of the orcs drifting through the trees as they got closer, and the smell of charred wood and rotting food filled the air. The orcs had made a makeshift camp, their crude weapons and looted goods scattered carelessly around them.

Katsuki crouched down, peering through the bushes at the sleeping orcs. “Ten of them. This’ll be over quick.”

Rosie nocked an arrow, her eyes scanning the camp. “We strike all at once. If we’re lucky, they won’t even have time to react.”

Deku whispered a spell under his breath, his fingers sparking with green energy. "I’ll take out the ones on the far left. Rosie, you aim for the archers. Katsuki, you keep them from running."

“On it,” Katsuki muttered, already preparing to unleash his explosive ability.

Rosie turned to Uraraka, who had her staff at the ready. “Keep an eye out for any stragglers,” she whispered. “If they break for the woods, take them down.”

Uraraka nodded, her eyes sharp and focused. “Got it.”

With everyone in position, Rosie pulled back her bowstring, her target already lined up. The orcs were snoring, oblivious to the danger creeping up on them. She let her arrow fly.

The arrow struck true, piercing the throat of an orc archer before it could even wake. At the same moment, Deku’s magic erupted, sending a blast of green energy toward the group on the far left, throwing three of them back into the dirt, their bodies convulsing as the magic hit them hard.

Katsuki wasted no time. With a growl, he shot forward, his hands igniting as he hurled explosive blasts around the camp. Flames erupted in a wide circle around the orcs, cutting off any route of escape. The ground shook as his explosions went off, trapping the remaining orcs in a fiery ring.

“Nowhere to run, you bastards!” Katsuki shouted, his smirk growing wider as the orcs scrambled to their feet, disoriented and panicked.

The remaining orcs let out roars of rage, drawing their crude weapons as they charged forward. Rosie fired another arrow, taking down an orc as it rushed toward her, but soon found herself facing one of the brutes head-on as it deflected her next shot. She quickly slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her sword in one swift motion, parrying the orc’s heavy axe as it came crashing down.

The clash of steel rang out through the camp as Rosie fought, her movements quick and precise. The orc was strong, but she was faster. She ducked under its next swing, her sword slicing through its side before she spun around and drove her blade into its chest, bringing it down.

Deku, meanwhile, was surrounded by three orcs, but he held his ground. His hands glowed with intense magical power as he unleashed spell after spell, each one hitting with pinpoint accuracy. “Take this!” he shouted, sending a bolt of lightning into the largest orc, causing it to stagger before falling to the ground in a smoking heap.

Katsuki, seeing another group of orcs trying to escape through a gap in the flames, jumped into the fray. “Not so fast!” he roared, his palms erupting with a massive explosion that sent the orcs flying back into the fire. “You’re not getting outta here alive!”

Uraraka, who had been keeping her distance, noticed one of the orcs sneaking toward the treeline. Without hesitation, she raised her staff and whispered to the birds once more. A flock of crows swooped down from the trees, their sharp talons raking at the orc’s face, blinding it long enough for Uraraka to send a blast of magical energy straight into its chest, dropping it instantly.

Just as the battle seemed to be turning in their favor, an orc larger than the others came charging through the flames, its face twisted in fury. Rosie saw it coming, but before she could react, the brute slammed into her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

“Rosie!” Katsuki roared, his eyes blazing with anger. He leaped over the burning ring and launched himself at the orc, his fists crackling with explosive power. The orc swung its club at him, but Katsuki dodged it with ease, coming up behind the brute and landing a devastating explosion at the base of its spine.

The orc howled in pain, stumbling forward, but Katsuki didn’t let up. He delivered another blast to its side, sending it crashing to the ground. With one final punch, he ignited his hands, creating a massive explosion that incinerated the orc on the spot.

Breathing heavily, Katsuki turned to where Rosie was struggling to her feet, her hand clutching her side where the orc had hit her.

“You okay, idiot?” Katsuki growled, though his voice held more concern than annoyance.

Rosie wiped the dirt from her face and flashed him a tired grin. “I’m fine. Thanks for the save.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. “Just stay out of trouble next time, alright?”

Rosie sheathed her sword, giving him a teasing smile. “No promises.”

As the last of the orcs fell and the fire around the camp began to die down, the group regrouped, their breaths heavy but victorious.

“Welcome to the party Uraraka,” Rosie said after recatching her breath. “You fit in perfectly.”

“Let’s get back to camp, we’ll get the reward in the morning.” Katsuki stated, moving to Rosie’s side. He paused, glancing at Uraraka, “hey ranger.”

“Uh, y–yes?” She stared at Katsuki with wide, frightened eyes.

“You did good,” then he turned away and walked with Rosie back to their camp.

The hot spring bubbled gently, steam rising into the cool evening air as Rosie and Uraraka soaked in the naturally heated water. The two women had taken a much-needed break from their adventures, their weapons lying within arm’s reach on the nearby rocks, just in case. The tranquil surroundings were a welcome relief after the intensity of tracking down and defeating the orcs for the last two days.

Rosie leaned back, her head resting on the edge of the spring as she let the warm water ease her muscles. Uraraka, across the pool, hesitated for a moment before finally speaking.

“Rosie?” Uraraka's voice was soft, almost timid.

“Mmm?” Rosie hummed, her eyes still closed as she relaxed.

“Why did you ask me to be a part of your party?” Uraraka asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. She had been thinking about it ever since Rosie had extended the invitation back in Perlyington. Joining them felt right, but she had wondered why Rosie had chosen her specifically.

Rosie’s eyes fluttered open, a small smile playing on her lips as she regarded Uraraka from across the water. “I like your smile,” she said simply, her tone light but genuine.

Uraraka blinked, clearly surprised by the answer. “My smile?”

“Yep,” Rosie nodded, pushing herself up slightly. “That, and you’re an adventurer. It’s nice to have another woman in the party. Katsuki and Izuku are great, but there’s something special about having another female around. We understand each other in ways they can’t.” Rosie flashed her a grin. "Besides, I think we’ll make a great team."

Uraraka’s face softened, touched by the sentiment. “I’m glad we can be friends.”

Rosie’s smile widened. Without hesitation, she waded through the water toward Uraraka and took her hands, holding them firmly in her own. “Not just friends,” she declared brightly, her bright blue eyes gleaming. “From this day forward, we’ll be best friends.”

Uraraka blushed, feeling a warmth in her chest that wasn’t from the hot spring. Her heart swelled with gratitude as she nodded. “Best friends.”

Rosie squeezed her hands before letting go, grabbing a bottle of silvery liquid that shimmered in the dim light. “Here,” she offered, pouring some into her palms. “I noticed you didn’t pack much when we left Perlyington. Want some? It’s elven-made—makes your hair softer than silk.”

Uraraka laughed nervously as she accepted the offer, letting Rosie work the liquid into her hair. “I was in a bit of a rush, and… well, I didn’t have much to begin with. My family’s been struggling these past few years. We’re merchants, but the merchant guild hasn’t been doing so well lately.”

Rosie paused, her hands still in Uraraka’s hair. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Uraraka shook her head, trying to smile despite the situation. “They’re doing better now. I stayed behind to help sell flowers and support them. But it was hard to leave again, even though my parents wanted me to get back out into the world.”

“That’s incredibly kind of you,” Rosie said, her voice full of admiration. “It takes a lot of strength to stay behind when you know you want to be somewhere else.”

Uraraka’s eyes glimmered with determination. “I plan to send them money once I start earning more. That way, I’ll have peace of mind knowing they’ll be taken care of, no matter what happens.”

Rosie nodded, smiling softly as she massaged the silvery liquid into Uraraka’s hair. “That’s a smart plan. You’re a good daughter.”

As Rosie finished working the liquid into her hair, Uraraka tilted her head in curiosity. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Rosie asked, her hands slowing as she prepared to rinse her own hair.

“You’re an elf, right? It’s rare to see elves out in the world, let alone adventuring with a party. What made you leave home?”

Rosie’s hands stilled, and her expression became more serious. “Rinse,” she instructed softly.

Uraraka obediently dunked her head under the water, scrubbing her hair as Rosie did the same. The water swirled around them, carrying away the silver liquid as they both resurfaced. Rosie leaned back against the rocks again, letting out a long sigh as her mind wandered.

“I left because I knew if I didn’t go then, I never would,” Rosie finally said, her voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly might break the calm. “I didn’t want to live a life that had already been planned for me. My parents wanted me to marry someone of status, settle down, live the life of a noble.” She chuckled darkly. “But I refused. We argued—my parents and I—and that night, I packed what little I could carry and left. That was a couple of years ago.”

Uraraka’s gaze softened with understanding. “Do you ever think about going back?”

Rosie smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in it. “Yeah… I do. I miss my family. But I know if I go back, it’ll be hard to leave again. Leaving the first time was already one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

The water rippled softly between them, the sound of the hot spring bubbling providing a gentle backdrop to their conversation.

After a moment, Uraraka glanced at Rosie thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Of course,” Rosie replied, looking intrigued.

“What’s your relationship with Katsuki like?” Uraraka asked, her voice lowering slightly. “I mean… he’s so rough and mean sometimes. But you travel with him—he doesn’t seem to be the easiest person to be around.”

Rosie laughed softly at the question, shaking her head. “Katsuki isn’t actually as mean as he seems. Don’t get me wrong, he can be rough around the edges, but once you get past that… he’s loyal, protective, and a great partner. We balance each other out.” She smiled fondly. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I’d never abandon him for anything.”

Uraraka raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “You really trust him that much?”

Rosie nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. Katsuki might not show it the same way other people do, but he cares. He watches over us, even if he acts like he doesn’t want to. He’s the kind of person who won’t let anything bad happen to the people he cares about.”

Uraraka smiled at Rosie’s words, understanding now why she stayed by Katsuki’s side. “I see… he’s not as bad as I thought.”

“Nope,” Rosie grinned, “he’s just Katsuki. Once you get used to him, you’ll see that he’s not so bad.” She leaned back, closing her eyes again as she let the warmth of the hot spring seep into her skin. “But don’t tell him I said any of this. He’d deny it all anyway.”

“That does sound like something he would do.”

Chapter Text

As Rosie and Katsuki made their way through the bustling market, her thoughts wandered to the evening ahead. “I think I’m going to make steak tonight for dinner,” Rosie mused, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe pair it with some roasted asparagus.”

Katsuki, as usual, remained indifferent. “Whatever you decide,” he shrugged, though Rosie knew he appreciated her cooking more than he let on.

Rosie scanned the stalls, picking out fresh ingredients and tucking them into her bag, which Katsuki, ever the silent companion, carried for her without complaint. It was an unspoken rhythm between them—Rosie did the planning and preparing, and Katsuki handled the heavy lifting.

“Make sure we have enough for a few days,” Katsuki muttered as they finished gathering supplies.

Rosie nodded, grabbing a few more items. She knew Katsuki would likely hunt for fresh meat, maybe a stag or boar, but it was always smart to have extras. As the sun hung high in the sky, she glanced toward the town’s central clock tower. “It’s nearing lunch,” Rosie smiled. “We should head to the Crimson Ogre Tavern. I’m sure Izuku and Uraraka will be waiting for us.”

Katsuki grunted in agreement, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. “Hopefully, they found a horse for the ranger.”

Rosie rolled her eyes playfully. “Her name is Uraraka. You should learn to use it.”

“Why should I?” Katsuki shot back, a grumble in his voice as usual.

“Because we’re a party now, and using people’s names is part of working as a team,” Rosie said, nudging him lightly.

They entered the Crimson Ogre Tavern, the warm atmosphere welcoming them as the chatter of patrons filled the air. The establishment was notably clean, considering its rugged exterior, and though busy, there was still a sense of order. As they walked past the bar, a hulking figure—half man, half giant—stood polishing glasses. His tan skin and dark hair caught Rosie’s eye, and she gave him a friendly smile and wave. The giant bartender grunted in return, but when Katsuki scowled at him, the bartender snarled back.

Typical. Rosie had to stifle a laugh at the exchange. Katsuki seemed to enjoy ruffling people’s feathers. The pair found an empty table in a cozy corner, the menus were carved directly into the tabletop, each item etched in intricate detail.

“We really need to work on your people skills,” Rosie remarked, sitting across from him. Her bright blue eyes glinted with amusement, though her tone held a hint of seriousness.

Katsuki leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he stared at her with that familiar intensity. “Why should we?”

“So you can have lots of friends,” she replied, a pointed look crossing her features.

Katsuki’s lips curled into a smirk. “Why have lots of friends when I can just have you?”

Rosie’s ears twitched, her cheeks flushing pink at his comment. The heat rising in her face was unmistakable, and Katsuki, noticing her reaction, leaned back with a self-satisfied grin before glancing down at the menu.

Thankfully, at that moment, Izuku and Uraraka entered the tavern, saving Rosie from further embarrassment. “Hope we didn’t keep you waiting,” Uraraka said brightly as she slid into the seat next to Rosie.

“Nah, we just got here,” Katsuki answered quickly, before Rosie could speak. His gaze flicked over to her, clearly enjoying the fact that she was still flustered from his earlier remark.

Rosie cleared her throat, forcing herself to refocus. “We should order quickly if we want to snag one of the new quests at the guild,” she said, regaining her composure.

Katsuki nodded, “the best-paying jobs will get taken fast.”

Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “Kacchan’s right. With Uraraka in the party now, we can handle more difficult tasks and get better rewards!”

A waitress approached their table, a pretty human woman with blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She smiled as she took their orders.

“I’ll have the sautéed meat with cheese and mashed potatoes,” Rosie said, glancing at the menu. “And the special drink, please—the Margarita with pineapple slices.”

The others followed suit, with Uraraka ordering the same as Rosie, while Katsuki opted for steak with roasted vegetables and potatoes. “And two pints,” he added gruffly.

Izuku, always eager, mirrored Katsuki’s order but added mushrooms to his dish.

As they waited for their food, Rosie turned to Uraraka. “Did you find a horse?” she asked, smiling warmly.

Uraraka’s face lit up. “Yes! His name is Uravity. He’s only three years old, so he’s still pretty spirited, but I think we’ll get along just fine. Thank you for lending me the gold to get him. I swear I’ll pay you back.”

Rosie waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re friends, right? Consider it a welcome gift to the party.”

Before Uraraka could protest, the waitress returned with their food. Plates clattered onto the table, and soon the group was eating with gusto, eager to finish so they could claim a good job at the guild.

Rosie took a sip of her Margareta, savoring the fruity taste. She held the glass out to Katsuki. “Try it. It’s really good.”

Katsuki eyed the drink warily but took a sip. He handed it back almost immediately. “Not a fan of pineapples,” he grunted.

Rosie chuckled and took another sip herself. “More for me then.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly. Izuku, ever the gentleman, offered to pay for Uraraka’s meal, despite her protestations.

“Keep your money,” Izuku insisted. “We’ve got plenty after the mercenary job and still need to collect payment from the orc quest.”

As they left the tavern, Rosie gave the bartender another smile, which he returned with a nod. When Katsuki growled at him again, the bartender snarled right back. Rosie elbowed Katsuki in the side as they walked out. “What is wrong with you?” she laughed.

Katsuki shrugged, not bothered in the slightest.

After leaving the tavern, the party made their way toward the town’s guildhall. Inside, adventurers of all types were milling about, examining the quest board, chatting with each other, or waiting in line to collect rewards. Rosie spotted the fresh postings and pointed them out.

“There!” she said, leading the group over.

As they crowded around the board, Izuku’s eyes lit up. “Look at this one!” He pointed to a quest that immediately caught everyone’s attention.

The request was from a wealthy merchant seeking rare and unique items from several different locations as a gift for his fiancée. The items included rare gemstones, enchanted flowers from a far-off forest, and a legendary pearl rumored to be guarded by dangerous creatures near the East Ocean. The reward was substantial, promising not only gold but also rare items as a bonus.

“This could take us all over,” Uraraka said, her excitement evident. “We’ll get to explore new places!”

“And it pays well,” Katsuki noted, eyes gleaming at the sight of the hefty reward.

Rosie smiled, already feeling the anticipation of the adventure ahead. “Looks like we’ve found our next mission.”

Once the group left the town behind, Rosie took the lead, sitting tall on Divine as they moved down the dirt path. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the ground provided a steady, calming background to their journey. She had the map unfolded in front of her, eyes scanning the terrain as she began plotting their course to the Ishlamare Mountains—the first stop on their quest for the rare gemstones.

“The Ishlamare Mountains are southwest from here,” Rosie explained, holding the map up in the light. “It’ll take us about three days to get there. Maybe two if we push hard and keep our breaks short.”

Izuku leaned over from his own horse to take the map as Rosie handed it to him. “Looks like we can take this trail all the way to Evermoore Forest and set up camp there for the night,” he said, nodding in agreement with Rosie’s plan. “We can wake up early, have breakfast, and ride to Markington by dinner. After that, it’s only a half day’s ride to the mountains.”

Rosie grinned. “Exactly. We’ll avoid most of the merchant roads too, which should keep us out of trouble.” She glanced over at Uraraka, who was riding her new horse, Uravity. The mare seemed to be handling the journey well for being so young, but the ranger’s careful handling kept the horse calm.

Izuku began to mumble softly as he traced the route with his finger. “If we cut through here, we can also bypass the valley… safer, faster…”

Katsuki’s eye twitched. He could hear Deku mumbling to himself, his mind working through the details aloud, just like always. The nerd still had that annoying habit of talking to himself, not caring that it freaked people out. But when Katsuki glanced back at Rosie and Uraraka, they didn’t seem bothered. In fact, they were too busy chatting with each other, laughing softly as they talked about the fruity drinks they had tried at lunch.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. What a bunch of weirdos.

The ride was long but uneventful. They passed through dense woods, open plains, and a few rivers, the fresh air filling their lungs as they kept a steady pace. The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon when Rosie finally pulled Divine to a stop at the edge of Evermoore Forest.

“We’ll make camp here for the night,” she called out, dismounting. “There’s a clearing up ahead.”

Uraraka and the boys followed her lead, sliding off their horses and tying them to a nearby tree. As they began to unpack, Rosie led Divine and the other horses to a small stream that ran beside their campsite. After making sure they had plenty of water, she fed them apples and carrots she had purchased at the market earlier.

While the men gathered their weapons to go hunt, Uraraka approached Rosie with a tentative smile. “Hey, can I help with the cooking tonight?” she asked. “I’m not very good at it, but I’d like to learn.”

Rosie smiled warmly, gesturing toward the firepit she had just started. “Of course! I’ll teach you the basics. It’s not as hard as it looks once you get the hang of it.”

Uraraka’s eyes brightened. “Thanks! That would be great.”

While the two women began preparing the campfire, Katsuki returned, hauling a large stag over his shoulder. His face and clothes were speckled with blood, and the raw power it took to bring down such a large animal was obvious. The deer had already been expertly skinned and cut into pieces.

“Got the meat,” Katsuki grunted as he dropped the chunks of venison near the fire. “I’ll clean the rest later.”

Rosie gave him a nod of approval, immediately going to work on cooking the deer meat. She marinated the pieces with herbs and spices, carefully threading them onto sticks to roast over the fire. The smell of sizzling meat soon filled the campsite, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest around them.

Katsuki and Izuku, covered in blood from the hunt, left to bathe by the nearby stream, giving the girls time to finish the preparations. As Rosie flipped the roasting venison over the fire, she turned to Uraraka.

“Cooking meat is all about patience,” Rosie explained, handing Uraraka a small strip of the stag meat to try. “You don’t want to cook it too fast or it’ll dry out. Slow and steady wins the race.”

Uraraka nodded, eagerly taking a bite. Her eyes widened as the flavor hit her. “This is amazing!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe how good it is.”

Rosie chuckled. “Well, you’ll get the hang of it. Plus, having fresh herbs and spices really helps.”

As they chatted and cooked, the sun disappeared completely, leaving the forest bathed in the soft glow of their campfire. Stars twinkled overhead, and the sound of crickets and night creatures filled the silence between their conversations. By the time Katsuki and Izuku returned, clean and refreshed, the food was ready. Rosie handed each of them a large piece of roasted venison, along with some wild vegetables she had bought.

Katsuki took a bite, his eyes closing as he savored the flavor. “Not bad, elf,” he muttered, though the glint in his eyes showed he was impressed.

Rosie grinned. “Thanks. Though I think Uraraka deserves some credit. She helped with the seasoning.”

Uraraka blushed slightly but smiled proudly as the group dug into the meal. As they ate, Rosie felt a deep sense of contentment. These small moments—sitting by the fire with friends, sharing stories and food—were what made the hardships of adventuring worthwhile.

After the meal, Katsuki glanced at the stars, his sharp eyes scanning the skies. “We need to get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Izuku nodded, yawning as he stretched. “Agreed. We’ve got a full day of riding ahead, and we’ll need all the energy we can get.”

The fire crackled gently in the clearing, casting a warm amber light over the sleeping forms of Izuku and Uraraka. The wizard had dozed off with his cloak half-draped over his head, his book of spells slipped to the ground beside him. Uraraka, curled up in her bedroll, breathed evenly, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of her bow, even in sleep.

Rosie sat cross-legged by the fire, the soft melody of her flute weaving through the sounds of the night. It wasn’t loud—just enough to keep the quiet from feeling too heavy, a lilting tune that felt half like a lullaby, half like a forgotten memory. Across the flames, Katsuki sat on a log, his blades resting against his leg. He was methodically sharpening one of them, the rhythmic rasp of stone on steel keeping time with Rosie’s music.

He didn’t say anything at first. He never did. But the occasional glance—softened just enough to be readable in firelight—told her he was listening.

When she finally lowered the flute from her lips, Rosie leaned back on her hands and looked up at the stars through the treetops, silver threads between black branches. “You’re weird for a human,” she murmured, still watching the sky.

Katsuki paused mid-sharpening. “Excuse me?”

She looked over at him, head tilting a bit. “You’re just… odd. You’re sharp like iron, but you don’t feel cold. You’re careful, but not cautious. Angry, but not cruel. For a human, you act… different. ”

He stared at her for a moment, the sharpening stone still in his hand. Then, slowly, his voice dropped low. “You don’t think I’m human?”

“No, I do,” she said quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean—sorry. That came out weird. I just meant—like, you are human, but sometimes it’s like you forget to act like one.” She gave him a crooked grin. “Maybe you’re just a grumpy mountain spirit in disguise.”

Katsuki huffed out a breath—almost a laugh—and shook his head. “You’re a damn weirdo.”

She beamed. “Takes one to know one.”

They fell into a companionable silence again. Katsuki resumed sharpening his blade, slower now. Rosie reached for her journal, the one she carried in the side pocket of her pack, worn and patched with little doodles pressed into the leather.

She flipped it open and began to scribble something inside, humming under her breath.

“What are you writing?” Katsuki asked without looking up.

She glanced over to where Uraraka slept, her expression softening. “I’m writing about her,” Rosie said. “Uraraka. She’s my first real female friend, you know? I’ve always been surrounded by boys or older elves or my mother’s priestesses—none of them ever really saw me.” She smiled faintly, tapping her quill against her knee. “But Uraraka’s kind and strong and she laughs at my dumb jokes. I want to remember her forever.”

Katsuki didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he finished the edge of his sword and leaned it against his leg again, eyes flicking over to Rosie’s journal.

“You write down everything?”

“Not everything,” she said, shrugging. “Just the parts I don’t want to lose.”

Katsuki looked at the fire, then at her again—really looked. Her pink hair was caught in the glow like starlight, her face calm and open, eyes brighter than the embers. That same oddness she’d seen in him… he felt it in her too, sometimes. Like the world didn’t quite shape her the way it did everyone else.

“Keep that,” he said quietly. “The not-losing part. People forget too much.”

Rosie smiled, gaze lingering on him, “I’ll remember that,” she whispered and they sat like that—her writing, him cleaning his blades—as the fire crackled low and the stars kept watch, the forest wrapped in peace just for a night.

The morning sun spilled golden light over the vast stretch of the King’s Road, the air still crisp with dawn’s breath. Birds trilled in the trees lining the path, and the hoofbeats of four horses echoed steadily as the group continued their journey toward the next town.

Rosie rode ahead, her hair catching the breeze like a silver banner, eyes squinting at the road signs as she turned in her saddle to glance at Katsuki, who rode beside her with his usual gruff intensity.

“I’m telling you, we should’ve taken the river pass,” she said, gesturing ahead with a gloved hand. “We’d already be halfway there if we had.”

Katsuki snorted. “Yeah, if you wanted our horses to break their legs on muddy stone or be attacked by river bandits.”

“River bandits?” she scoffed. “Please. I could seduce them into handing over their weapons and begging for forgiveness.”

“Right,” he muttered, casting her a look. “Because flashing those pretty eyes of yours is gonna work on hardened mercenaries.”

“It’s worked on worse,” Rosie replied, tossing him a smug grin.

Katsuki turned in the saddle to face her more fully, one brow arching. “That a fact, sweetheart?”

The nickname made her blink, her smirk faltering for just a moment as her cheeks pinked. “I— don’t call me that. ”

“Why not?” His voice was low now, teasing. “You don’t mind when I call you elf , and I’ve called you worse.”

“That’s different,” she mumbled, suddenly interested in the shape of her saddlehorn.

“Mmhm,” he said, a victorious smirk spreading across his face as he leaned a little closer. “You’re not blushing, are you?”

“No!” she lied—very obviously.

A few paces behind them, Uraraka and Izuku rode side by side, watching the exchange with matching looks of tired amusement.

“Are they always like this?” Uraraka asked, glancing sideways at Izuku.

He exhaled dramatically. “Yes. And I mean always . You should’ve seen the time we nearly failed a diplomatic mission because Rosie winked at the duke’s son and Katsuki nearly challenged him to a duel.”

Uraraka’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

He nodded solemnly. “Then there was the job in Viremont when they got into a shouting match in the middle of a stealth infiltration.”

“It was his fault,” Rosie called over her shoulder, clearly having heard.

“It was your fault for trying to flirt with the guards again,” Katsuki growled back, though his grin hadn’t left.

Izuku shook his head, voice dry as dust. “They argue like war generals and flirt like teenagers. Every time.”

Uraraka laughed, watching as Rosie finally muttered something that made Katsuki bark a short laugh, and the elf all but buried her face in her shoulder with a squeak.

“They’re ridiculous,” she said warmly.

“Yep,” Izuku agreed. “But somehow… it always works out.”

The King’s Road cut through a patch of sun-dappled woods by midday, and the group decided to stop in a small clearing flanked by wildflowers and mossy rocks. Uraraka spread out a blanket while Izuku unpacked their simple lunch of dried fruits, bread, and cheese. Rosie tied her horse to a tree and wandered a few feet off to gather herbs she spotted near the edge of the clearing.

Katsuki had just pulled out a hunk of bread when the bushes nearby rustled violently .

Everyone stilled.

From the underbrush erupted a chorus of high-pitched war cries.

“ STAB THEM IN THE KNEES! ”

“ BLEED ‘EM! BLEED ‘EM GOOD! ”

Rosie barely had time to turn before a handful of squat, red-hatted gnomes brandishing tiny, wicked knives leapt out from the brush like a swarm of angry squirrels.

“Oh, come on! ” Katsuki barked, standing and kicking over a gnome that tried to bite his boot.

Uraraka scrambled to her feet, drawing her bow. “Why are they attacking us?!”

Izuku, already flipping through his notebook, paled. “Murder gnomes! These are forest variants of bloodthirsty feral kin! They’re extremely territorial and—Rosie, don’t egg them on!”

Because Rosie, dagger already drawn, was grinning. “First one to twenty wins?” she called to Katsuki.

“You’re on.”

And just like that, the two of them charged into the fray.

“ KACCHAN, ROSIE, NO— ” Izuku’s shout was lost under the gleeful whooping and gnome-squealing as the two tore into the attackers with a kind of chaotic glee that made it impossible to tell if this was battle or some unholy game.

Katsuki swept his short sword like a scythe, launching one gnome into the air, where Rosie flipped over it , kicked another in the face mid-air, and landed gracefully with a spin.

“ Eight! ” she sang out, eyes bright.

“Nine!” Katsuki growled, punching a gnome so hard its knife flew into a tree with a thunk .

Uraraka loosed an arrow out of sheer reflex, catching a gnome that had leapt for her boot. “Are they laughing ?!”

“Rosie, don’t taunt them!” Izuku yelled, blasting one with a puff of green smoke from his palm. “Katsuki, stop keeping score , these are living beings!”

“Living beings trying to stab me, ” Katsuki called back.

“Ten!”

“Ten?! Damn it—eleven!”

“ You’re making this worse!! ” Izuku howled as another gnome bounced off his magical barrier.

Rosie was laughing , eyes shining with joy as she leapt onto a rock, flicked a dagger into a gnome’s foot, then flipped down beside Katsuki. “Fifteen!”

“Sixteen!” he shouted, grinning at her with wild glee.

By the time the dust settled, the gnomes were scattered—dead or very regretting their life choices. One particularly dazed one limped off into the forest mumbling something about “ never trust the tall ones .”

Rosie and Katsuki high-fived— high-fived —covered in dirt and scratches and looking far too pleased with themselves.

Uraraka blinked. “That was… unnecessarily intense.”

Izuku looked like he aged ten years. “You two are menaces ,” he muttered, clutching his notes. “Absolute, reckless, smiling menaces .”

Rosie plopped back onto the blanket like it was nothing. “You’re just mad you didn’t get any points.”

Katsuki snorted. “He wouldn’t have gotten more than three.”

“Two,” Rosie said under her breath, giggling.

Uraraka looked between them and shook her head. “You two are so weird. ”

Izuku sighed, slumping down beside her. “You have no idea.”

Chapter Text

The group reached Markington earlier than expected, the sun still high in the sky as they rode through the bustling streets. Rosie had been quick to improvise, using the leftover venison and vegetables from last night’s meal to create small travel pouches for everyone. They ate while riding, skipping a formal lunch stop to make up time.

As they approached the heart of Markington, Rosie couldn’t help but admire the city’s beauty. The stone buildings were intricately designed, their architecture a mix of old-world charm and modern craftsmanship. Shops lined the cobblestone streets, their windows showcasing local goods, weapons, and magical trinkets. The air buzzed with life—merchants bartering, children running through the alleys, and adventurers like themselves stocking up on supplies.

Once they dismounted, Rosie noticed Uraraka rubbing her arms, already shivering despite the mild temperature in the city.

“Uraraka?” Rosie called, drawing her friend’s attention.

“Yes?” Uraraka replied, a soft smile on her lips.

“You don’t have any clothing for the cold, do you?” Rosie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Uraraka shook her head, a bit sheepishly. “Not really. I didn’t think I’d need much at first, but the mountains...”

Rosie nodded knowingly. “The Ishlamare Mountains are freezing this time of year, and you’re already cold. We’ll need to get you some proper gear.”

Relieved, Uraraka grinned. “That would be great. Thanks, Rosie.”

Rosie handed Divine’s reins over to Katsuki, who was already tending to the horses. “You and Deku go book us some rooms at the Sleepy Coin Tavern. We’ll meet you there for dinner,” she said, tightening her pack.

Katsuki gave her a sharp look, then grunted. “Don’t be late.”

Rosie smirked at his gruffness before linking her arm through Uraraka’s and pulling her into the bustling crowd. They disappeared into the sea of people, making their way through the marketplace.

Rosie and Uraraka strolled through the busy streets, their eyes darting between different shops and vendors. The city was filled with beautiful wares, from handcrafted jewelry to enchanted weapons. The magical shops, in particular, caught Uraraka’s attention, their glowing displays and shimmering fabrics drawing her in.

They eventually found a small boutique tucked away at the end of a narrow street. The sign read Frostweave Fashions, and through the window, they could see racks of winter gear, all enchanted with a subtle shimmer that indicated magical protection.

“This looks promising,” Rosie said, pushing open the door. A bell chimed as they stepped inside, and they were immediately greeted by the warmth of the shop and the sweet scent of lavender.

An elderly shopkeeper, an amazon with silver hair and sharp eyes, glanced up from behind the counter. “Welcome to Frostweave. You’re here for cold-weather gear, I assume?”

Rosie nodded. “Yes, we’re heading into the Ishlamare Mountains. We’ll need something warm and practical, but stylish wouldn’t hurt.”

The shopkeeper smiled knowingly and motioned to the racks. “You’ve come to the right place. All of our clothing is enchanted to provide warmth, no matter how frigid the environment. And they won’t weigh you down during combat. Feel free to browse.”

Rosie and Uraraka began sifting through the clothes, their fingers brushing over thick cloaks, fur-lined jackets, and fitted leather boots.

Rosie quickly found something that suited her. She pulled out a pair of black, fitted pants made from a soft, yet durable material. The pants had subtle silver embroidery running along the sides, giving them a sleek look. She paired them with a white, long-sleeved shirt and a black fitted corset that wrapped around her torso, cinching in at the waist. To complete the outfit, she found a pair of knee-high black boots with five silver buckles running up the right boot.

“These are perfect,” Rosie said, inspecting herself in the mirror. The outfit was not only stylish but practical, allowing for full mobility while keeping her warm.

Uraraka, on the other hand, was drawn to a more colorful ensemble. She selected a pair of fitted pants similar to Rosie’s, but in a soft pink hue. Her shirt was white, like Rosie’s, but she opted for a darker pink corset. The corset had intricate embroidery of flowers running along the edges, giving it a delicate, feminine touch. Her boots were knee-high as well, but white with pink flowers.

“What do you think?” Uraraka asked as she twirled in front of the mirror, her pink and white outfit glowing softly with the enchantments woven into the fabric.

Rosie grinned, giving her a thumbs-up. “You look great! It suits you.”

The shopkeeper approached them, carrying two thick, fur-lined cloaks. “These will keep you both warm on your journey. They’re enchanted to repel snow and wind, and they can adjust their thickness based on the weather.”

Rosie took the black cloak with silver accents, while Uraraka accepted a soft white one that matched her outfit perfectly.

“Thank you,” Uraraka said, running her fingers over the cloak’s soft fur lining. “This is incredible.”

After paying for their purchases, the two of them left the shop and made their way back toward the Sleepy Coin Tavern. The streets were just as busy as before, but the new warmth radiating from their enchanted clothing made the cold air much more bearable.

As they walked, Uraraka couldn’t help but glance at Rosie, who was now twirling a bit of her own black cloak. “Rosie?”

“Hmm?” Rosie looked over, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” Uraraka said. “You didn’t have to help me with all of this, but you did. It means a lot.”

Rosie smiled warmly, looping her arm through Uraraka once more. “That’s what friends do. And besides, now we’re both ready for whatever the Ishlamare Mountains throw at us.”

Rosie and Uraraka entered the Sleepy Coin Tavern, a large, bustling place filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of tankards. The room smelled of roasted meat, fresh bread, and ale, making their stomachs rumble after the long ride. The tavern itself was a cozy mix of dark wood beams and stone walls, illuminated by flickering candlelight and the occasional enchanted lantern.

As they stepped inside, the barkeep, a towering man with massive pectorals and a thick beard, caught sight of them and waved with a friendly grin. Rosie and Uraraka waved back, weaving through the crowded tables with ease. Several adventurers glanced their way, eyes lingering a little longer than necessary, clearly intrigued by the pair's appearance. The girls, oblivious to the stares, made their way toward Katsuki and Izuku, who were already seated and nursing pints of ale.

Uraraka grinned as they reached the table, excited to show off their new clothes. “What do you think of our outfits?” she asked, her voice bright with anticipation.

Izuku, who had just taken a large sip of ale, choked as his face turned crimson. His eyes widened, and he scrambled to compose himself, coughing and stammering, “Y–you look great!” His voice cracked slightly, but his enthusiasm was clear.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, glancing at them with his usual nonchalance, but Rosie caught the brief flicker of appreciation in his eyes before he grunted and looked away. He didn't need to say anything—Rosie could tell by his expression that he approved.

Rosie smiled as she set her old clothes, bundled in a bag, on the empty seat beside Uraraka’s. The outfits had served them well up to this point, but now, the enchanted gear would be invaluable for their journey through the cold mountains.

“We found some enchanted clothing,” Uraraka added, her excitement bubbling over as she clapped her hands together. “It’ll keep us warm no matter how cold it gets, thanks to the enchantments!”

Izuku’s eyes lit up with interest. “Really? That’s incredible! Enchantments like that are rare. Did you find them in a specialty shop?” He leaned forward eagerly, the scholar in him already analyzing the magic properties.

Before Uraraka could respond, Rosie gestured toward the table. “Did you two order already?”

Katsuki grunted in response, taking another swig from his mug. “Yeah, food’s coming. Figured you’d be starving after today.”

Right on cue, the waitress arrived with plates of food balanced expertly on her arms. She set down two plates in front of Rosie, one filled with slices of roasted meat, cheese, and fresh bread, and another piled high with roasted vegetables seasoned with herbs. She also placed two glasses of a bubbly brown liquid in front of the girls.

Rosie raised an eyebrow at the plates. “You ordered for me?” she asked Katsuki, mildly surprised.

He grunted again, not looking up from his drink. “Not like I don’t know what you prefer for dinner by now.”

Rosie’s smile softened as she glanced at the food. Katsuki was always gruff, but small gestures like this were his way of showing he cared, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. “Thank you,” she said, picking up a piece of bread.

Izuku, still recovering from his flustered state, nodded in agreement with Katsuki. “I guessed with yours, Uraraka. Hope you like it.”

Uraraka’s eyes sparkled with gratitude. “Thank you, Izuku. This looks amazing.” She eagerly dug into her meal, savoring the taste of the roasted meat and vegetables.

Rosie, curious about the drink that had been placed in front of them, lifted the glass to her nose. The bubbly brown liquid smelled sweet, with a hint of fruitiness. “What’s this?” she asked, glancing between Katsuki and the waitress.

Katsuki shrugged. “It’s some type of wine. Figured you’d like it.”

Rosie took a tentative sip, and her eyes lit up as the sweet, fruity flavor hit her tongue. It tasted like candied fruit, with just the right amount of fizziness to make it refreshing. “It’s delicious,” she said, her smile growing. “It’s like candy. Thank you.”

Katsuki merely grunted again, though Rosie could see the corner of his mouth twitch upward in what might have been the beginnings of a smile.

The group settled into their meal, the warmth of the tavern providing a cozy respite from the cool evening outside. As they ate, Rosie and Uraraka shared stories about their shopping trip, describing the enchanted clothing and the friendly shopkeeper at Frostweave Fashions. Izuku listened intently, occasionally mumbling to himself about enchantments and magical properties, while Katsuki continued to eat in silence, occasionally offering a grunt of acknowledgment.

As they finished their meal, Rosie leaned back in her chair, feeling content. “We’re making good time,” she said, taking another sip of her sweet drink. “If we keep up this pace, we’ll reach the Ishlamare Mountains ahead of schedule.”

“Good,” Katsuki said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The sooner we finish this job, the better.”

Rosie chuckled. “Always in a rush, aren’t you?”

He gave her a sharp look but said nothing, his usual scowl in place. Rosie smirked in response, used to his gruff demeanor by now. She knew beneath all that roughness, Katsuki cared deeply about their party, even if he’d never admit it.

As the group finished up, Rosie glanced out the window, the last rays of sunlight casting a golden hue over the streets of Markington.

“Let’s get some rest,” Rosie said, rising from her seat. “We’ve got a long ride ahead tomorrow.”

The others nodded in agreement, and collected their things as they climbed up the steps of the Tavern to the rooms above. Rosie would be sharing with Uraraka and the men would share one as well.

The Ishlamare Mountains loomed high above them, jagged peaks dusted with snow that sparkled in the waning light of the day. The air grew colder with every step, the frost biting at their cheeks despite the enchanted clothing they wore. Rosie, Uraraka, Izuku, and Katsuki had boarded their horses in the nearby city of Crymoore, which sat nestled at the base of the mountain range, and had been on foot for hours, trekking up the rugged terrain. Their boots crunched in the snow as they followed a narrow, winding path.

Rosie glanced up at the towering cliffs ahead, her breath fogging in the icy air. “According to the map, the cave should be somewhere around here,” she said, her voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around her neck.

Izuku, clutching a map in his gloved hands, frowned as he scanned the parchment. “These directions are vague at best. It just says the gemstones are hidden ‘within the belly of the mountain.’ That could mean any number of caves.”

Katsuki growled in irritation. “We’re wasting time. If we don’t find this damn cave soon, we’ll be stuck out here in a blizzard.” His crimson eyes scanned the ridge ahead, as if daring the mountain to reveal the cave’s entrance.

Uraraka, her breath visible in the cold air, looked around at the snow-covered landscape. “Maybe it’s further up? There’s a ridge just ahead—let’s check it out.”

The party climbed steadily, the snow getting deeper and the air thinner as they ascended. Every now and then, gusts of wind would whip snow into their faces, making visibility difficult. Just as they were beginning to lose hope, Rosie paused, spotting something in the distance.

“There,” she pointed. “Do you see it?”

Half-hidden by a large outcrop of rock, the faint outline of a cave entrance became visible, covered in icicles that hung like teeth from the top of the opening. It was almost camouflaged by the mountain itself, but the dark shadow of the entrance stood out against the stark white snow.

“That’s got to be it,” Izuku said, a mix of relief and excitement in his voice.

They hurried toward the entrance, but as they neared the cave, an ominous hum filled the air. Rosie stopped, feeling a strange tingle run up her spine.

“There’s magic here,” she whispered, her senses sharp. “An enchantment.”

As if in response to her words, the ground beneath their feet trembled. The snow shifted, and suddenly, a deafening screech echoed from the depths of the cave. Katsuki immediately rushed to her side, throwing his arm out in front of her, Rosie flushed as she realized he was trying to protect her. The air grew thick with the sound of flapping wings as a pack of wyverns, their leathery wings beating against the wind, erupted from the cave’s mouth. Their scales gleamed a sickly green, eyes glowing with malice as they lunged at the party.

“Wyverns!” Izuku shouted, drawing his staff as one swooped toward them, its razor-sharp talons aimed at Uraraka.

Uraraka yelped, rolling to the side just in time to avoid being snatched, but the beast circled back, its fanged maw open wide. Before anyone could react, one of the wyverns dove low, snagging Uraraka by the waist and lifting her into the air with a terrifying screech.

“Uraraka!” Rosie shouted, her hand reaching for her bow, but Izuku was already moving.

Izuku’s eyes narrowed with determination, his hand crackling with magic. “Hold on, Uraraka!” He thrust his staff forward, summoning a gust of wind that knocked the wyvern off balance. The beast flailed, and with a quick incantation, Izuku conjured a binding spell, wrapping the wyvern’s wings in shimmering threads of light.

Uraraka used the moment to activate her magic, summoning a vine out of the mountainside to catch her. Just as her feet touched the ground, Izuku’s spell sent the creature crashing into the snow, where it lay stunned.

Katsuki, meanwhile, had leaped into action, his palms sparking with explosive energy. “You think you can just take one of us?” he snarled, hurling himself at the wyverns. “Die!”

With a roar, Katsuki unleashed a barrage of explosions. The first wyvern was incinerated in midair, while another was blown into pieces as he hurled a concentrated blast at it. He landed with a heavy thud, dodging the strike of a tail as he vaulted back into the air, launching another explosion at the largest wyvern. The force of his blast sent the creature careening into the rock wall with a sickening crunch.

Rosie, not one to be left behind, nocked an arrow to her bow and fired it at a wyvern trying to sneak up on Katsuki. The arrow struck true, piercing its wing and sending it spiraling to the ground. She readied another arrow, scanning the sky, but Katsuki had already made short work of the remaining wyverns, his face set in grim satisfaction.

With the threat neutralized, the party caught their breath. The ground was littered with the smoldering remains of the wyverns, their bodies dissolving into ash.

“You alright?” Izuku asked, hurrying over to Uraraka, his eyes full of concern.

She nodded, still a bit shaken but unharmed. “Thanks to you. That was a close one.”

Rosie inspected the entrance to the cave, which had gone eerily silent now that the wyverns were gone. “Let’s hope that was the last of the traps,” she said grimly. “The gemstones should be inside.”

The party cautiously made their way into the cave, their boots echoing against the stone floor. The cave was dark and cold, but after a short walk, they came upon a large chamber. In the center of the room, nestled among the jagged rocks, were the gemstones they had come for—rare diamonds, opals, and obsidian. They sparkled in the dim light, their beauty undeniable.

Rosie knelt down, carefully picking up one of the diamonds and inspecting it. “These are the real deal,” she said, holding it up to the light. “We did it.”

Katsuki smirked. “Tch. About time.”

But as Rosie pocketed the gemstones, a deep rumble filled the cave. Outside, the wind had picked up, howling through the mountains. Snow began to swirl at the entrance, thick and blinding.

Izuku frowned, looking outside. “A snowstorm. We won’t be able to make it back down the mountain in this.”

“We’ll have to camp here for the night,” Rosie said, pulling her cloak tighter around her. “It’s too dangerous to travel in these conditions.”

Katsuki set his jaw, annoyed by the delay but knowing it was the smart choice. “Fine. But we’re moving out first thing in the morning.”

The storm outside raged with an intensity that echoed through the mountain, the wind howling like a beast as it tore through the frozen landscape. Inside the cave, the party huddled together around a small fire that crackled weakly, its light casting long shadows on the jagged walls. Despite their enchanted clothing, the cold still seeped in, making it hard to relax.

Rosie, sitting closest to the fire, rubbed her arms to generate heat, her legs tucked tightly beneath her as she shivered. Her breath misted in the chilly air, and no matter how close she got to the flames, the freezing bite of the mountain air still clung to her skin.

Katsuki, sitting across from her, watched her with narrowed eyes. The quiet sound of her teeth chattering finally made him speak.

“I can hear your damn teeth rattling,” Katsuki grumbled. His gaze sharpened as he observed how tightly she hugged herself. “You’ll freeze if you keep sitting like that.”

Rosie glanced up at him, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “It’s freezing out,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Izuku, who had been tending the fire with a stick, looked over curiously. “But aren’t elves supposed to be immune to the cold? I read somewhere that your kind doesn't feel temperature the same way we do.”

Rosie smiled faintly, shaking her head. “Not all elves, no. The ones from the Crystal Realm are naturally adapted to the cold because they’ve lived in the frozen landscapes for millennials. But I’m a High Elf. We’re not inherently immune to extreme temperatures. We can still feel the cold, or heat, like humans do, though we’re a bit more resistant.”

Izuku nodded in understanding, but his frown deepened. He hated seeing his friends uncomfortable, especially in dangerous situations like this.

Katsuki, however, had reached the end of his patience. Without saying a word, he suddenly leaned forward and grabbed Rosie by the arm, yanking her towards him. She let out a surprised yelp as she toppled into his lap, her eyes wide with shock.

“Katsuki!” she gasped, her cheeks now flushed for an entirely different reason.

“Stop whining,” Katsuki grumbled, settling her more comfortably in his lap. “I’ll keep you warm.”

Rosie blinked, utterly flustered, but she adjusted herself in his lap, her back pressing against his broad chest. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist, holding her snugly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The heat radiating from his body was immediate and intense, far more effective than the dwindling fire. She could feel the warmth seeping into her bones, and despite the awkwardness of the situation, her body instinctively relaxed into his.

“You’re so hot,” she muttered, almost to herself as she rested her head back against his shoulder.

“I always knew you found me attractive,” he said with a smirk, his usual cocky demeanor creeping back in.

Rosie snorted softly, rolling her eyes even as she blushed. “I meant your body temperature, idiot,” she muttered, though there was no bite in her words.

Katsuki chuckled, pulling her a little closer as if to shield her further from the cold. “Sure you did.”

“Why is your body temperature so high?”

Katsuki stiffened slightly at the question, his smirk faltering. He glanced at Izuku, and the two exchanged a quick look, something unreadable passing between them.

Rosie noticed the shift in his posture, feeling the tension in his muscles. She craned her neck to look up at him, curiosity in her eyes, but the intensity of his expression made her pause. His jaw was clenched, his crimson eyes darkening with something unspoken.

“A story for another day,” Katsuki said curtly, his voice low.

Rosie nodded, sensing that now wasn’t the time to press him for answers. Instead, she adjusted herself in his lap, pulling his cloak tighter around them both. His arms adjusted too, holding her a bit more securely as she nestled into him, her face buried against his neck. The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear was oddly comforting, helping to ease the lingering chill in the air.

Across the fire, Izuku and Uraraka sat huddled together, trying to make the best of the situation. Izuku, being naturally warm-blooded and far too eager to help, had offered his cloak to Uraraka, who was already wrapped tightly in her enchanted gear but still shivering from the cold.

Katsuki glanced over at them, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Deku!” he barked.

Izuku jolted upright, startled. “Y-yes, Kacchan?!”

“Get over there and keep the ranger from freezing. She’s gonna turn into an icicle if you don’t.”

Izuku blinked, his cheeks turning pink as he looked at Uraraka, who was doing her best not to shiver too much. “O-oh! Right!” Without hesitation, he moved closer to Uraraka, draping his cloak over her as well and settling next to her with an awkward but determined smile. “Stay close. We’ll stay warmer together.”

Uraraka blushed, her face nearly as red as Izuku’s. “Thanks, Izuku,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she looked away, embarrassed.

Rosie, observing the scene from Katsuki’s lap, hid a giggle behind her hand. She leaned closer to Katsuki’s ear and whispered, “Who’s matchmaking now?”

Katsuki growled low in his throat, his face twisting into a scowl. “It’s not matchmaking if it’s necessary. Or would you rather the ranger freeze to death?”

Rosie’s laughter bubbled up again, the sound soft and muffled against his chest. “If it’s not matchmaking, then maybe you should let Uraraka switch places with me,” she teased, her voice light and playful.

Katsuki’s grip on her tightened, his eyes flashing dangerously. “No way in hell is that happening.”

Satisfied with his response, Rosie settled deeper into his embrace, letting his warmth lull her into a state of drowsiness. The storm outside continued to rage, but inside the cave, wrapped in Katsuki’s arms, she felt safe and warm. As her eyelids grew heavy, she rested her head against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing her into sleep.

Katsuki glanced down at her, his expression softening for a moment as he watched her doze off. His arms cradled her protectively, the firelight casting flickering shadows on his face. For a brief moment, the storm outside didn’t matter, and neither did the looming dangers of their quest. Right now, all that mattered was keeping her safe and warm

With one final glance at Izuku and Uraraka, who had also settled down for the night, Katsuki closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax—just a little. The warmth of the fire and the comforting weight of Rosie in his arms was enough to make even relaxed.

He would book them hot springs when they got back to ensure the woman didn’t catch colds. He knew that Deku and himself would be fine due to their upbringing.

Chapter Text

The warmth of the hot spring enveloped Uraraka like a blanket, easing the tension from her muscles. She sank deeper into the steaming water, her eyes closing as she let out a contented sigh. "This is amazing," she murmured, letting the heat wash away the weariness of their long journey.

Rosie, who was reclining on a smooth rock at the edge of the spring, chuckled softly. "It’s definitely the best way to recover after that mountain trek," she said, leaning her head back and feeling her muscles relax, joints popping with relief. "But we can't stay too long. We still need to pack and get some rest before we head to Crestlake in the morning."

Uraraka nodded, though she made no move to leave the comforting waters just yet. "True, but we’ve earned this break. I didn’t realize how sore I was until now."

Rosie smiled in agreement, the sound of the bubbling spring and the faint rustling of the wind through the nearby trees creating a peaceful atmosphere. The two of them had bonded during the quest, and moments like these reminded them how much they had grown to care for each other.

“Do you think the boys are jealous we’re having all the fun?” Uraraka teased, grinning as she imagined how Katsuki and Izuku were likely handling the downtime in their rooms.

Rosie laughed, stretching her arms above her head. “Katsuki? Definitely not. But Izuku… I can imagine him overthinking every step of our next journey while you’re here soaking in the springs.”

Uraraka laughed as well, knowing how right Rosie was about Izuku. "I’ll let him fuss over the plans, as long as he doesn’t get too stressed. Speaking of which, what’s the next item we need to find?"

Rosie sat up slightly, her fingers tracing circles in the water. “A rare flower called the Pinkliblossom. It’s found in the Goshimini forest, southeast of here.”

Uraraka’s eyes brightened. “Oh! I’ve read about that! I know exactly where we can find it. There’s a hidden grove deep in the forest where the blossoms bloom every spring.”

Rosie smiled warmly at her friend. “Great! Make sure you tell Izuku over breakfast tomorrow. He’ll love that you know where we’re going. It might save him some sleepless nights.”

“I will,” Uraraka said, grinning. “And who knows? Maybe we’ll make this next part of the quest a little easier on ourselves.”

With their conversation winding down, the two finally stepped out of the spring, the cool air making them shiver despite their lingering warmth. They dressed in comfortable robes provided by the hot spring spa and made their way back to their rooms.

The next morning came brisk and clear, with the sun just peeking over the horizon as the group set off toward the Goshimini forest. The quiet road led them through rolling hills, with Crestlake on the distant horizon.

As they rode, the group kept an easy pace, chatting quietly as Izuku led the way with Rosie and Uraraka close behind. Katsuki, as usual, brought up the rear, his eyes scanning the landscape for any signs of danger.

They stopped briefly for lunch in a quiet glade, the smell of wildflowers filling the air. As they unpacked their supplies and settled down, Rosie and Uraraka shared some jokes from the previous day, lightening the mood.

But the peace didn’t last long.

A sharp whistle cut through the air, followed by the rush of movement from the surrounding trees. Bandits. A group of them, ragged and armed, emerged from the brush, weapons drawn and eyes glinting with malice.

"Looks like we’re gonna have some fun," Katsuki growled, cracking his knuckles as he readied for the fight.

Before anyone could react, the bandits charged. Rosie quickly drew her bow, her fingers flying as she loosed arrows at the approaching enemies. Izuku moved with lightning speed, engaging two bandits at once, his fists landing with precision as he knocked them to the ground. Katsuki exploded into action, literally, as blasts of energy erupted from his hands, sending several bandits flying backward.

Uraraka, though determined, found herself cornered by one of the attackers. She tried to fight back, but without any proper combat training, she struggled to defend herself. Just as the bandit lunged forward with a blade aimed for her chest, Katsuki came out of nowhere, slamming the bandit to the ground with a blast of energy.

“You okay, ranger?” Katsuki asked, his eyes fierce as he looked down at her.

Uraraka nodded, a bit shaken but grateful. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Katsuki.”

"Don’t mention it," he grunted, his attention already shifting to the remaining bandits. Within moments, the rest of the attackers had either been incapacitated or fled into the woods, leaving the group victorious but wary.

As they regrouped, Rosie wiped her brow, breathing heavily. “That was close,” she said, checking over her bow and arrows. She glanced at Uraraka, who still looked shaken. “Are you alright?”

Uraraka nodded, but the encounter had clearly rattled her. “I’m fine,” she said quietly. “I just… I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never really had to fight like that before.”

Rosie smiled gently and placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “That’s understandable, Uraraka. You’re not trained for combat like the rest of us. But that’s something we can work on.”

Katsuki, still annoyed by the encounter, crossed his arms. “You need to learn how to defend yourself, round face. I won’t always be there to save your ass.”

Rosie shot Katsuki a look but turned back to Uraraka with a more encouraging expression. “Katsuki’s right—though he could say it nicer,” she said, earning a grunt from him. “Maybe we can start with some basic training. You don’t need to be a master swordswoman, but knowing how to use a dagger or small knife could help in situations like this.”

Uraraka looked thoughtful, nodding slowly. “That makes sense. I’d hate to be a burden on you guys. I want to be able to protect myself, too.”

“We can start with some training after we stop for the night,” Rosie said. “I have a spare dagger I can show you how to use.”

Katsuki smirked from the side. “Better learn fast, Pink Cheeks. Next time, I might let you handle it yourself.”

Uraraka glared at him, but the hint of a smile played at her lips. “Don’t count on it, Katsuki. I’m tougher than I look.”

“We won’t make it to Crestlake if we keep standing around,” Izuku stated as he stared at the map.

That night, after a hearty dinner by the campfire, Rosie took Uraraka aside to a quiet spot near the edge of their camp. The air was cool but still, with the distant sounds of the forest creating a peaceful ambiance. Katsuki and Izuku sat nearby, talking quietly but keeping a watchful eye on the training session. Though they were both skilled fighters, they seemed content to let Rosie take the lead, curious to see how Uraraka would do under her guidance.

Rosie unsheathed the small dagger she had lent to Uraraka earlier, its blade gleaming in the firelight. She turned it over in her hands before offering it hilt-first to Uraraka. "Alright, the first thing you need to understand about using a dagger is that it's not about brute strength. It's about precision, speed, and knowing when to strike. This isn’t like wielding a sword—it’s close-range combat, which means you’ll need to be quick on your feet and stay focused."

Uraraka took the dagger, her expression serious but determined. She felt the weight of the blade in her hand, lighter than she expected but still substantial enough to give her confidence. “Got it,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.”

Rosie smiled, appreciating her friend’s determination. She took a step back and assumed a defensive stance, raising her arms slightly as if ready to engage. “Okay, first things first. Hold the dagger like this,” she demonstrated, gripping an imaginary weapon in her hand. "You want a firm grip, but not too tight. Keep your wrist loose so you can move it quickly. You’ll be slashing, stabbing, and blocking with it."

Uraraka mimicked Rosie’s stance, adjusting her grip on the dagger as instructed. Rosie walked over, gently repositioning her hand and showing her how to angle the blade. “Perfect. Now, your other hand will be just as important. You’ll use it to block or even push your opponent away, so don’t keep it idle.”

Once Uraraka had the proper grip, Rosie began walking her through the basics. "When you're in a fight, especially with a dagger, you're going to need to stay mobile. So your stance is everything. Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. Always be ready to move—don't plant your feet or you'll get knocked over easily."

Rosie demonstrated, moving fluidly from side to side, her feet light on the ground. Uraraka followed her movements, trying to mimic the same agility. She was a bit stiff at first, but after a few repetitions, she started to loosen up, moving more naturally.

“Good,” Rosie encouraged. “Now, let’s go over some basic strikes. With a dagger, your goal is to make quick, targeted cuts. You’re not trying to overpower your opponent, just disable them or create an opening to escape or defend yourself. Try a simple slash.”

Rosie demonstrated a quick, precise slash through the air, her movements swift but controlled. Uraraka followed suit, slashing the dagger in front of her. Her first few attempts were cautious, but Rosie coached her to put more confidence behind her movements.

“Don’t be afraid of the blade, Uraraka. Trust your instinct and commit to each strike. The more confident you are, the more effective you’ll be.” Rosie demonstrated again, this time faster, her dagger cutting the air in smooth arcs.

Uraraka took a deep breath and tried again, this time moving with more purpose. Her slash cut through the air cleanly, and she felt a surge of pride as Rosie nodded in approval.

"Good! Now, let's try a stab. The key here is to aim for vulnerable spots—throat, chest, stomach. You're not always aiming to kill, but to incapacitate." Rosie stepped closer, holding her own dagger in a defensive position. “When you stab, use your body to push forward, not just your arm. You want your whole weight behind the strike.”

Uraraka followed Rosie’s instructions, thrusting the dagger forward as she stepped into the motion. It felt strange at first, but after a few tries, the motion became more fluid. She could feel herself growing more confident, and Rosie’s gentle corrections helped her fine-tune her movements.

After a few minutes of practice, Rosie decided it was time to incorporate some hand-to-hand techniques. She sheathed her dagger and stepped forward. “Alright, now let’s say you lose your dagger or your opponent gets too close for you to use it. You need to know some basic hand-to-hand combat to defend yourself until you can get the upper hand.”

Rosie moved behind Uraraka and gently guided her into a defensive stance. “The key is to stay balanced and always be ready to react. We’re going to practice a few basic moves. First, blocking. If someone comes at you with a punch or a grab, you want to use your arms to deflect their attack, not absorb it.”

Rosie raised her hands and mimicked a slow punch toward Uraraka, who blocked it with her forearm. “Good, but don’t just block—redirect. If you can push their arm away, you create an opening for yourself.”

Uraraka practiced blocking a few more punches, growing quicker and more precise with each attempt. Katsuki and Izuku exchanged glances, impressed by her progress.

“Now let’s try some counter-attacks,” Rosie said, showing her how to follow up a block with a punch or elbow strike. “You don’t need to be the strongest person in the fight, but knowing where to hit can make a big difference.”

Rosie demonstrated a swift elbow to an imaginary attacker’s face, then a knee to the stomach. Uraraka copied her movements, hesitating at first but soon getting the hang of it. She was surprised at how natural it started to feel.

“Great work,” Rosie said, smiling. “You’re picking this up quickly.”

As they continued training, Katsuki and Izuku watched with mild amusement. “You’re getting the hang of it, Uraraka,” Izuku called encouragingly.

Katsuki crossed his arms, smirking. “She’d better. I’m not saving her every time.”

Uraraka shot Katsuki a mock glare but couldn’t hide her smile. Rosie laughed, clapping Uraraka on the shoulder. “You’re doing great. We’ll keep practicing, and soon enough, you’ll be able to handle yourself in any situation.”

With a final practice round, Uraraka landed a clean strike with the dagger, blocking and countering Rosie’s mock attack. She beamed with pride, knowing she had taken a big step toward becoming a more capable adventurer.

“Let’s call it a night,” Rosie said, pleased with Uraraka’s progress. “Tomorrow night, we’ll continue with more training, but for now, rest is just as important.”

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun filtered through the canopy above, casting golden dappled light across the small clearing where their group had set up camp. A fire crackled low nearby, cooking what remained of their hunted boar, while the scent of herbs and smoke filled the air.

Rosie stood near the edge of the clearing, her braid tucked back beneath a leather hood, eyes focused as she handed a polished dagger to Uraraka. The younger girl held it with both hands at first, like it was something sacred—or dangerous.

“You’re too stiff,” Rosie said gently, stepping behind her. “Loosen your grip just a little. You’re holding a dagger, not strangling a goblin.”

Uraraka giggled nervously but adjusted her hands. “Sorry—I just don’t want to drop it.”

“You won’t. You’ve got good instincts,” Rosie replied with a soft smile, moving her hand to correct Uraraka’s stance. “Now—try again. Aim for the center of the trunk.”

Across the clearing, Katsuki sat cross-legged near the fire with a plate of food resting on one knee. Izuku sat nearby, chewing thoughtfully as his eyes darted between Rosie and Uraraka’s training.

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Izuku said with a low chuckle. “She’s really patient with her.”

“Tch. ‘Course she is,” Katsuki muttered, shoving a bite of roasted meat into his mouth. His crimson eyes didn’t leave Rosie. “She’s damn good with blades. It’s cute she’s bothering to teach the ranger over there.”

Izuku shot him a side-eye. “You mean Uraraka.”

Katsuki grunted. “Whatever.”

Back at the training spot, Uraraka took a deep breath and flung the dagger forward. It spun once, then thudded into the outer edge of the tree trunk with a satisfying thunk —a little off-center, but embedded.

“I hit it!” she squeaked, practically hopping on the balls of her feet.

Rosie grinned and clapped her hands together. “Told you. Try again, but this time—breathe first, then throw. Don’t rush your body faster than your mind.”

They moved on to archery next. Rosie unslung her bow from her shoulder and handed it over. “Remember, the bow isn't just about strength. It's about control. Feel it in your spine—draw from there, not just your arms.”

Uraraka nodded, tongue peeking out slightly in concentration as she mimicked Rosie’s posture. When she finally loosed the arrow, it soared—and this time hit the outer ring of the target.

Izuku clapped. “Nice shot!”

“Better than your first five tries with a sword,” Katsuki added, smirking around his bite of bread.

“Hey, come on!” Izuku laughed, but even he didn’t deny it.

Katsuki finally stood, brushing crumbs from his pants as he walked over to where Rosie and Uraraka were gathering arrows. His shadow fell across the both of them, and Rosie turned her head with a bright, flushed smile that made his chest tighten.

“You teaching everyone to be deadly or just her?” he asked, eyes flicking to the blade still in Uraraka’s hand.

Rosie arched a brow. “I’d teach you too, but you’d just break my daggers showing off.”

Uraraka giggled behind her hand, and Katsuki scowled—but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Izuku arrived moments later, scratching the back of his head. “It’s nice seeing the two of you work together. Honestly, it’s kind of inspiring.”

“See?” Rosie nudged Katsuki lightly with her elbow. “You could stand to be a little more inspiring.”

Katsuki leaned down, his mouth brushing against her ear as he muttered, “I’ll inspire you tonight, sweetheart.”

Rosie flushed instantly, swatting at him with her bow, which only made Uraraka burst out laughing and Izuku stammer and turn red.

“ Katsuki! ”

He was already walking away, smug and satisfied.

“Ugh,” Rosie groaned, pressing her face into her hands. “I’m going to start stabbing him with training daggers.”

“Good luck,” Uraraka laughed. “He’d probably like that.”

Rosie flushed, because she would like it too.

The next morning broke with a cool breeze sweeping through the trees. Dew glistened on the tall grass around their campsite, and the last embers of their fire had long since died. Uraraka stood near the edge of the clearing, sweat trickling down her brow as she sliced through the air with practiced strikes, her dagger movements now crisp and fluid.

Rosie stood nearby, arms crossed as she watched with a proud glint in her eye.

“You’ve gotten faster,” Rosie said, stepping in to correct the angle of Uraraka’s wrist. “Good control, too. Just stop hesitating when you go for the stomach—it’s not going to hurt anyone made of air.”

Uraraka let out a small breath, nodding. “Right. Less hesitation. Got it.”

Katsuki passed by them with a grunt, slinging his pack over one shoulder. “Better with the daggers, sure,” he muttered as he glanced at the arrows littering the grass from earlier attempts. “Still can’t hit the broad side of a barn with a bow.”

“I hit it once,” Uraraka defended with a pout.

Izuku, ever the peacemaker, smiled as he strapped on his gauntlets. “We all start somewhere. Besides, you’ve improved a lot—especially with close-range weapons.”

“Only because Rosie doesn’t let up,” Uraraka said, laughing softly. “She’s scarier than you in training.”

Rosie gave a theatrical bow. “It’s the ears. Intimidating.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but smirked. “More like your death glare when someone doesn’t listen.”

With camp packed and breakfast eaten, the five of them mounted their horses and set out down a dirt path that wove through the trees like a river of packed soil. The morning light danced between branches, and birds chirped overhead as if completely unaware of the dangers that lay further down the trail.

Rosie rode near the front with Katsuki, glancing over a faded hand-drawn map. Uraraka sat just behind her, looking around with wide eyes. Izuku followed at her side, chatting quietly with her

“—and then Katsuki threw the bandit captain off the cliff,” Izuku was saying with a grin. “I mean, not exactly a standard solution, but it worked.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining when he was threatening to burn our horses,” Katsuki called back without turning around.

“Fair point,” Izuku replied.

Suddenly, Rosie’s horse slowed. Her ears twitched, she raised a hand. “Hold up.”

Katsuki was already dismounting, eyes narrowed. “I smell something.”

The others followed suit. Rosie crouched, brushing her fingers through the disturbed dirt. “Tracks. Goblin. A lot of them—recent.”

Izuku held gis staff. “A nest?”

Rosie nodded. “Likely. Looks like they raided a caravan not long ago.”

Katsuki’s grin spread slowly. “Perfect.”

Uraraka paled. “Perfect?”

Rosie turned toward her, lips curling in a wicked smile. “Think of it as a pop quiz.”

Katsuki crossed his arms. “Real combat’s the best test. You’ve been training for this.”

“I…” Uraraka hesitated, glancing between them. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, but she stood straighter. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Izuku placed a hand on her shoulder, warm and steady. “We’re right behind you, Uraraka. You’re not alone.”

Rosie nodded. “We’ll cover your back. Just focus on the basics.”

She then gave her a pair of daggers—smaller than the ones she'd practiced with, but sharper, worn with real use. “Stay close to me. Aim for weak points. Goblins are fast but cowardly. Don’t let them corner you.”

Uraraka took the weapons and nodded firmly. “Got it.”

They followed the trail through the thickets and into a rocky ravine, where the entrance to the goblin nest yawned between jutting stones like a mouth. The foul stench of rot and wet fur wafted out to meet them.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles. “Alright. Let’s go wreck their day.”

The ravine narrowed as they descended into the goblin den, the air thick with the stench of blood, rotting meat, and mold. The walls were slick with grime, claw marks gouged into the stone. Bones littered the path, snapped and gnawed. Rosie gripped her daggers tight, her ears twitching in agitation.

They didn’t need to wait long.

The first goblin launched from the shadows with a guttural shriek, yellow eyes gleaming and jagged blade raised high. Katsuki didn’t even flinch—he caught the creature mid-air by the throat and slammed it into the ground with a sickening crunch. Its skull cracked like an eggshell under his boot.

More poured from the crevices—small, wiry bodies, skin gray-green and mottled, mouths lined with sharp, uneven teeth. Their laughter was manic, high-pitched, inhuman. Several were already scrambling toward Uraraka and Izuku, weapons in hand—rusted blades, bone-tipped spears, even jagged pieces of scrap metal.

“I’ve got you,” Izuku said calmly, stepping just to the side of her. “Focus.”

Uraraka hesitated—just for a moment—then lunged forward with her dagger, plunging it into the belly of the first goblin to reach her. The creature shrieked and thrashed, black blood spurting onto her hands as it gurgled and slumped forward. Her breath hitched. It was hot, sticky. Real.

Another came at her from the side. Izuku shouted, “Behind you!”

She turned just in time to duck under the swing of a spiked club. Her dagger slashed across its thigh, but the goblin only screeched louder, redoubling its attack. Izuku stepped in, driving his gauntleted fist through the creature’s ribcage, ribs shattering as it collapsed in a heap. Uraraka stared, wide-eyed.

“Keep going,” he told her. “This is what you trained for.”

Not far ahead, Rosie spun like a dancer through the chaos. Her daggers were blurs of silver in the dark, blood spraying in crimson arcs as she crippled, and slaughtered the goblins around her. One leapt onto her back—she grabbed it by the hair and slammed it into the ground so hard its jaw dislocated, then finished it with a clean jab through the eye.

“Move faster, sweetheart!” Katsuki barked, laughter in his voice as he gutted two more goblins with a twist of his massive blade. His palms crackled with heat, tiny explosions sending limbs flying. One goblin screamed as it was blown in half, its torso slapping wetly against the wall.

“You’re just mad I’ve killed more than you,” Rosie snapped as she vaulted off a boulder and drove both daggers into a snarling goblin's chest, pinning it to the earth like a grotesque insect.

“I’m pacing myself!” he called back, grinning as another caught fire from a blast and ran shrieking into the shadows, igniting others in its panic.

The deeper they pushed, the more cramped and savage the fight became. Blood coated the floor. Screams echoed. Uraraka had taken down three, her movements growing more sure—even if her hands trembled after each kill.

She stumbled when a goblin grabbed her ankle, dragging her down. Its jagged teeth snapped inches from her face. She screamed—but instead of freezing, she jammed her dagger into its throat, again and again and again, until it stopped moving.

The corpse twitched once. Uraraka’s hands were covered in its blood. She stared at it, breathing hard.

Izuku knelt beside her, hand on her back. “You’re doing great.”

She nodded numbly. “It’s... different than training.”

“I know.” His voice was gentle. “But you’re still standing.”

A sudden howl echoed deeper in the tunnel. A larger goblin stepped forward—nearly the size of a man, covered in armor fashioned from bones and leather. Its weapon was a crude flail, studded with teeth. Rosie hissed softly. “That’s the warchief.”

Katsuki’s grin widened. “Dibs.”

The warchief roared, swinging the flail toward Rosie. Katsuki intercepted it mid-swing, his gauntlet exploding in a fiery blast that shattered the weapon. He barreled into the beast, dragging it into a savage brawl that shook the very walls.

Rosie motioned for Uraraka to follow her. “Come on. Let’s mop up the rest.”

They moved room to room—clearing out snarling nests, cutting through shrieking, desperate creatures who fought to the death. The last few tried to run, but were quickly put down. The air hung thick with smoke and gore.

When the final goblin fell, silence reigned. Rosie stood in the center of the nest, panting, her face splattered with blood. Katsuki wiped a smear from his cheek, looking at her with a satisfied smirk.

Uraraka stood among the dead, trembling—but alive. Her clothes torn, arms scratched, cheeks streaked with ash and blood. She turned to Izuku, who smiled at her with quiet pride.

“You did it,” he said softly.

“I did,” she whispered back. Then she looked at her hands. “I… I killed them. Real ones. Not practice dummies.”

“And they would’ve killed you if you hadn’t,” Rosie said, walking over to her. “You fought smart. You didn’t panic. I’m proud of you.”

Uraraka’s eyes welled up, but she nodded, squaring her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Katsuki threw an arm around Rosie’s shoulders, blood dripping from his chin. “Think that was enough practice?”

Rosie gave a half-smile. “For now.”

The Mossblight Hearth sat nestled beneath a ridge of dark pines, the smoke from its crooked chimney curling lazily into the dusky sky. Its weathered sign creaked on rusted chains, the painted image of a tankard and boar’s tusks nearly worn away. It wasn’t luxurious, but after hours of bloodshed and travel, it looked like a palace.

Inside, warmth wrapped around them like a blanket. The tavern was low-lit and lively, filled with the scent of roasting meat, hearthfire, and ale. A bard strummed lazily in the corner while townsfolk murmured over mugs. The innkeeper—a round, balding man with thick forearms and a missing tooth—didn’t ask questions when they arrived splattered with dried blood and reeking of battle. He simply gave a nod and directed them toward the back rooms.

After hot water and a much-needed wash, the group reconvened at a long wooden table near the fire.

Uraraka was the first to arrive, practically bouncing in her seat. Her cheeks were glowing—not from the heat, but from the adrenaline that hadn’t quite worn off.

“I still can’t believe I killed that many!” she blurted excitedly, her freshly scrubbed hands gripping the edge of the table. “One of them tried to drag me down and I stabbed it in the throat and—and it kept moving, so I just kept stabbing until it stopped!”

Izuku laughed, sitting beside her with a warm smile. “You handled yourself really well out there. It was brutal, but you didn’t hesitate when it counted.”

“I did scream,” she added sheepishly, then shrugged. “But I didn’t run. That’s what matters, right?”

Katsuki dropped into the seat across from them, slamming a full plate of roasted boar and potatoes down on the table. “You screamed like a dying squirrel,” he muttered around a mouthful of meat. “But yeah. You did good.”

Rosie took her seat beside him, her hair still damp from her bath, curls pulled back in a simple braid. She lifted her drink—a honeyed ale that glowed amber in the firelight—and tipped it toward Uraraka with a small smile. “To your first nest.”

Uraraka raised her cup in return, beaming. “To many more nests!”

Katsuki snorted, nearly choking on a bite of bread. “Slow the hell down. You’re not invincible just because you got your first blood.”

“I know that,” she said, grinning as she leaned toward him. “But I also know I want to do it again. I thought I’d freeze up. I thought I’d puke. But it was—"

“Exhilarating?” Rosie offered.

“Yes!” Uraraka nodded enthusiastically, then added with a giggle, “And messy. Goblin blood smells awful .”

“It gets worse with trolls,” Izuku said, chuckling. “Don’t get too eager.”

Their food arrived in waves—bowls of stew, platters of meat and bread, and pitchers of drink. The group settled in, the conversation drifting between combat and travel stories, bickering over whose fighting style was flashier, and reminiscing about their earlier training days.

Katsuki mostly focused on his food, though he offered the occasional grunt or snide remark—especially when Izuku went on too long. Rosie chimed in with dry humor, her legs stretched out under the table to rest against Katsuki’s casually, grounding her.

The tension of the day had melted. The tavern’s fire crackled behind them, casting a golden glow across their faces as they relaxed into each other’s company. Even Uraraka, who earlier looked dazed by violence, now leaned on Izuku’s shoulder, drunk not from ale but from pride.

“So,” she asked between bites, “what do we hunt next?”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “You asking for another goblin nest?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” Uraraka replied with a spark in her eyes, her voice light with mischief as she leaned her elbow on the table and nudged her mug toward the center.

Rosie laughed under her breath, her amber gaze warm as she lifted her drink once more. “Let’s see if you say the same thing after a wyvern,” she teased, taking a slow sip of her honeyed ale. “Those things don’t go down with just enthusiasm.”

Uraraka wrinkled her nose playfully. “I’ve got enthusiasm and daggers now. I’m unstoppable.”

Katsuki snorted from across the table, tearing off a hunk of bread and slathering it with butter in one rough movement. “Tch. You’re barely standing after a nest of goblins. Let’s finish this mission before you start daydreaming about playing hero with dragons.” He took a bite, chewing noisily. “Talk’s cheap.”

“Oh come on, Katsuki,” Izuku said with a soft chuckle. “Let her be excited.”

“I am excited,” Uraraka chimed, beaming. “I want to be ready for whatever we face next.”

“Well,” Izuku offered with a grin, pushing back his chair, “how about we celebrate your first victory properly? My treat—one drink.” He stood and extended a hand toward her.

Uraraka's eyes lit up. “Just one?”

“Maybe two,” he relented with a sheepish smile.

With a giddy laugh, Uraraka hopped to her feet and followed him to the bar, leaving Rosie and Katsuki alone at the table. The tavern was humming around them—mugs clinking, voices rising in cheer, the bard plucking out a tune in the corner—but their small bubble remained quiet.

Rosie leaned back, hands cradling her drink, and turned her head slightly toward Katsuki. “We should stay here tonight,” she said, her voice low and calm. “The horses could use the rest, and so could we. Leave at first light.”

Katsuki didn’t argue. He never did when her tone carried that soft finality. He nodded once, still chewing the last of his meat, then swallowed. “Yeah. That’s smart. Don’t need anyone dragging through the mud tomorrow.”

Her lips quirked. “Are you calling me slow?”

“Not yet.” He grinned, a slow, wolfish thing that made her brows lift. “But I might start if you keep looking at me like that.”

Rosie blinked, flustered. “Like what?”

“Like you want me to carry you to bed already.”

Her face flushed a deeper rose, and she ducked her head slightly, trying—and failing—not to smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love it,” he murmured, leaning toward her, one forearm braced on the table as his gaze dragged over her face.

She rolled her eyes, but her heart skipped in her chest. “Maybe. A little.”

He reached out, his thumb brushing along the edge of her braid, idly twisting a damp curl between his fingers. “Just a little?”

Rosie bit her lip, her voice barely above the crackle of the fire as she replied, “Don’t push your luck.”

Katsuki smirked, leaning closer still. “Too late.”

She turned her face away with a flustered laugh, hiding behind her mug as she took a long sip to cover her smile. Across the room, Izuku and Uraraka were chatting animatedly with the barkeep, but Katsuki didn’t look away from Rosie once.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the forest clearing where they'd stopped to rest. The smell of pine and earth lingered in the still air as birds chirped softly in the distance. They’d traveled hard that morning, and the horses were grateful for the break, tied near a small stream trickling along the edge of the glade.

Katsuki slung his pack over his shoulder and shot Rosie a look, tilting his head toward the overgrown path ahead. “We won’t be long,” he grunted.

“Try not to blow anything up,” she called back, smirking.

“No promises,” he threw over his shoulder, already heading into the trees.

Uraraka adjusted the straps of her belt, eager and slightly breathless. “Let’s go!”

With a nod to Izuku and Rosie, she followed Katsuki into the forest, the two vanishing between the tall trees in seconds.

Rosie exhaled a slow breath, the silence settling in easily now that they were alone. She crouched beside the stream, scooping water into her hands and splashing her face, before sitting back against the base of a crooked elm.

Izuku stayed quiet for a few moments, watching the leaves above them sway in the breeze. Then he smiled gently and sat cross-legged nearby. “You know,” he said, voice warm and thoughtful, “there’s an old legend from this part of the region. My mom used to tell it to me when I was little—especially when we passed through near the edge of the Emberpine Woods.”

Rosie turned her head toward him, intrigued. “Yeah? What kind of legend?”

Izuku leaned back on his palms and looked skyward, as though pulling the memory from the treetops. “It’s about a forest spirit—some people call her the Mourning Lady. They say she appears at twilight, draped in silks made of mist and thistle, and she wanders the woods searching for her lost children.”

Rosie arched a brow. “Classic tragic ghost story?”

“Sort of,” he said, smiling faintly. “But there’s a twist. She doesn’t hurt people. Not unless they lie. The tale goes, if you see her and tell her the truth—about anything, even if it’s painful—she’ll give you a gift. A protection charm, a safe passage, something like that. But if you lie to her... your voice vanishes for a season. Some say forever.”

Rosie whistled low, genuinely impressed. “That’s kind of beautiful. Creepy, but beautiful.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah. I always liked it. I think it stuck with me because it wasn’t about punishing the guilty—it was about rewarding honesty. Even the broken kind.”

She tilted her head at him, her amber eyes soft. “You’re kind of a romantic, huh?”

He laughed, a little shyly. “I guess I am. Not in the roses-and-dinners way, maybe. But in the belief-that-people-can-be-good way? Yeah.”

Rosie smiled, resting her chin on her knees as she glanced toward the woods. “That’s not a bad way to see the world. Better than most.”

Izuku glanced at her, his green eyes warm and understanding. “You’ve seen a lot more than most people your age, haven’t you?”

She shrugged lightly, brushing a leaf off her skirt. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean I don’t still hope for something better.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more—something gentle and kind—but before he could, the sound of rustling leaves reached them from the trees ahead. Both of them turned instinctively toward the source, hands brushing the hilts of their weapons. Only to watch as a bird flew by, and they both relaxed. 

Chapter Text

Rosie sat atop a large rock, her flute resting lightly in her hands as she played a soft, lilting melody that echoed through the quiet clearing. The gentle notes blended with the rustling of the forest, a peaceful contrast to the usual hustle of their adventuring group. It had been a while since she had taken the time to play—always mindful of disturbing her companions—but now, with only the wind and trees for company, it felt like the perfect moment to reconnect with her music.

She paused, letting the last note linger in the air as her thoughts wandered. Katsuki and Uraraka were off deep in the Goshimini Forest, searching for the elusive Pinkliblossom flowers. It was dangerous terrain, too treacherous for the entire group to traverse together, and Rosie had volunteered to stay behind and set up camp. Izuku had gone to the nearby town for supplies, and with any luck, he’d return soon.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the camp, but Rosie’s thoughts were already turning to the coming night. The forest was notorious for its dangers, especially after dark. Still, she trusted her friends and their abilities to handle themselves.

As if on cue, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Rosie lowered her flute, looking up with a smile as Izuku came into view, his arms loaded with sacks of supplies.

“I’m back!” he called out, his face flushed but cheerful as he approached the camp. “Sorry it took so long. The town was a bit farther than I expected, and I had to haggle with the merchant.”

“No worries,” Rosie replied, hopping down from the rock to help him unload the supplies. “You made it just in time for lunch.”

Izuku grinned as he handed her a sack of fresh bread and cheese. “Great! I’m starving. I grabbed some extra dried meat and fruits, too, just in case we need them for the road ahead.”

The two of them quickly set up a small meal, laying out the supplies on a flat rock near the firepit. As they sat down to eat, the conversation flowed easily, filling the camp with warmth and companionship.

“You know, I never knew you could play the flute,” Izuku said between bites of bread. “I heard you earlier—it was beautiful.”

Rosie smiled, feeling a little bashful at the compliment. “Thanks. I don’t play often, but sometimes it’s nice to just... unwind with some music. It helps clear my mind.”

Izuku nodded thoughtfully. “I can imagine. You’re really talented, Rosie. Maybe you should play more often. It’s soothing.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the forest around them, punctuated by the occasional crackle of the fire. As the afternoon wore on, the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the camp. They both watched the sky turn shades of orange and pink, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment.

Suddenly, a loud rustling from the edge of the camp snapped them out of their tranquility. Rosie and Izuku both stood up, their senses on high alert as the sound grew louder, closer.

“Izuku…” Rosie said quietly, her eyes scanning the treeline. “Something’s coming.”

Before either of them could react further, a pack of enormous, glistening spiders emerged from the forest, their many eyes gleaming in the fading light. The creatures were as large as horses, their long, spindly legs moving with terrifying speed as they closed in on the camp.

Rosie drew her sword, her heart racing. Izuku quickly moved into a defensive stance, his fists sparking with energy. “Get ready!” he shouted, just as one of the spiders lunged toward them, its fangs dripping with venom.

Rosie dodged its attack, slicing at one of the spider’s legs as she moved. Izuku punched another spider, sending it flying back with a burst of energy. The battle was chaotic as more spiders swarmed the camp, their webs flying through the air as they tried to trap their prey.

Rosie narrowly avoided a sticky web as it shot past her head, rolling to the side and slashing at another spider. “These things just keep coming!” she called out to Izuku, who was busy blasting away two more of the creatures.

“We have to take them down before they overwhelm us!” he replied, dodging a web that nearly entangled him.

Rosie dodged one of the large spiders, her sword flashing as she slashed at its legs. She and Izuku had been fighting off the pack for what felt like hours, but the creatures kept coming. The ground was littered with twitching spider bodies, yet more seemed to emerge from the dark corners of the forest. They were holding their own, but just barely.

Rosie’s breath came in short gasps as she parried another attack, the spider’s fangs barely missing her shoulder. In the chaos of the fight, one of the largest spiders skittered toward her with terrifying speed. Before she could react, its massive legs slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of her. The world spun as the spider loomed over her, its fangs dripping venom and poised to strike.

In that split second, Rosie felt a rush of panic. Just as the spider lunged, a blast of ice shot across the clearing, freezing the creature in place mere inches from her face. The sudden cold sent a shock through her system, and she blinked in surprise as the spider cracked and shattered, falling to the ground in pieces.

A man stepped into the clearing, his presence commanding. His hair was striking—half white and half red—and his eyes, one a deep blue and the other a light gray, were locked on her with intense focus. His hands still glowed faintly with the remnants of frost and fire as he approached.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice calm but filled with genuine concern as he reached down to help her up.

Rosie, still dazed from the fall, blinked up at him, her heart still racing from the close call. “I—I think so,” she stammered, her wide eyes meeting his.

The man gently took her arm, his touch firm yet careful as he checked her for injuries. His gaze softened slightly as he looked her over. “You’ll have to accept my apology,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “These spiders are a menace. I’ve been tracking them for days but hadn’t realized they’d found new prey.”

Rosie managed a small smile, shaking her head. “You couldn’t have known, really. There's no need to apologize. You saved me.”

He frowned, clearly not satisfied. “I should’ve done a better job scouting the area. I didn’t expect them to attack this close to the edge of the forest.”

Before Rosie could respond, a furious voice cut through the clearing, filled with unmistakable anger.

“Get your damn hands off her, you icy hot bastard!”

Rosie’s head snapped toward the voice, her stomach flipping as she saw Katsuki storming into the clearing with Uraraka by his side. His face was twisted with rage, his eyes fixed on the man standing next to Rosie. Sparks of explosive energy crackled around his clenched fists as he stomped toward them.

The man didn’t flinch, merely raising an eyebrow as Katsuki approached. “I just saved her life, Bakugou.”

“I don’t care!” Katsuki growled, his fists still sparking. “Back off, Todoroki!”

Rosie quickly stepped between them, placing a calming hand on Katsuki’s chest as she felt the tension between the two men. “Katsuki, calm down,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “He saved me from the spider.”

Katsuki’s glare didn’t soften immediately, his crimson eyes still locked on Todoroki, but he reluctantly stopped his advance. “I don’t like the way he’s touching you,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

Todoroki, unfazed by Katsuki’s fury, stepped back and gave Rosie a polite nod. “You’re safe now. I’ll be on my way.”

Rosie, sensing Katsuki’s lingering anger, glanced at Todoroki and then back at her furious companion. “No, wait,” she said, her tone softening. “You saved both Izuku and me. The least we can do is offer you dinner. Please stay.”

Todoroki hesitated for a moment, glancing briefly at Katsuki, who looked like he wanted to object but held his tongue. Finally, Todoroki nodded. “If you insist.”

Izuku approached the group, having finished off the last of the spiders with a quick punch. His eyes lit up with recognition as he saw Todoroki. “Todoroki! I didn’t know you came out this far,” he said with a grin, wiping the sweat from his brow. “What brings you out here?”

“Tracking those spiders,” Todoroki replied simply, gesturing to the fallen creatures around them. “I didn’t expect to run into you.”

Katsuki scowled but said nothing, his attention still fixed on Rosie as he pulled her closer, clearly not pleased with the situation. “You’re really okay?” he asked, his voice softening as his gaze shifted to her, checking for any signs of injury.

Rosie nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. “Just a bump on the head and a bruised arm. I’m fine, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s expression softened slightly, though frustration still simmered beneath the surface. As they returned to their camp, he kept close to Rosie, his presence looming protectively beside her. Izuku chatted with Todoroki as if they had known each other for years, clearly familiar with him, but Katsuki remained withdrawn, his usual gruff demeanor even more pronounced. He glared at Todoroki’s back as if the mere sight of him was offensive.

Rosie, kneeling by the fire and preparing dinner, glanced over her shoulder at Katsuki, who refused to leave her side. He hovered nearby, arms crossed, his gaze flicking occasionally toward Todoroki with a scowl.

“Katsuki,” Rosie said, turning her attention back to slicing vegetables. “He’s your friend, be nice. Go talk to him.”

“He’s not my friend,” Katsuki snapped, his voice low but defensive.

Rosie raised an eyebrow, not buying his excuse. “Izuku’s your friend,” she pointed out.

“That’s different,” Katsuki grumbled. “The Icy Hot bastard and I just grew up together. Doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

With an exasperated sigh, Rosie turned her full attention to him, resting her hands on her hips. “Katsuki, you’re being childish.”

“I’m not,” he muttered, his scowl deepening.

Rosie stepped closer, her voice softening but her words firm. “He saved my life, Katsuki. I would’ve died if he hadn’t shown up when he did. You don’t have to like him, but at least talk to him. If not for yourself, do it for me.”

That seemed to finally get through to him. His scowl faded, and he let out a reluctant grunt of acknowledgment, shoving his hands in his pockets. Giggling softly at his change in attitude, Rosie turned back to the meal, making quick work of cooking dinner. Uraraka soon joined her, helping to serve the venison with sautéed mushrooms and roasted potatoes.

“Thank you,” Todoroki said softly when Rosie handed him a plate, his voice calm and almost shy.

Rosie beamed at him as she took her seat beside Katsuki. “You’re welcome. My name’s Rosie. And thank you again for saving my life.”

She extended her hand toward Todoroki, who shook it with a polite smile. “Shoto Todoroki,” he introduced himself, his grip firm but gentle. “And you’re welcome.”

As soon as their hands parted, Katsuki immediately grabbed the hand Rosie had shaken Todoroki with, holding it tightly in his. Rosie blinked at him in confusion, her gaze shifting to their joined hands, but Katsuki said nothing. He held onto her hand for a solid minute before finally releasing it, his expression unreadable. Ignoring his odd behavior, Rosie turned her attention back to Todoroki.

“Are you traveling alone?” she asked curiously, her eyes still on him.

Todoroki nodded. “I am. I’ve been tracking those spiders for a while and scouting the region.”

“You should join us!” Uraraka chimed in with a bright smile, her enthusiasm contagious.

Izuku, who was seated on the other side of Todoroki, nodded eagerly. “Yeah, we’re on a mission right now. It’d be great to have someone with your skills.”

Todoroki tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “What kind of mission?”

Rosie smiled as she listened to the exchange, quietly eating her meal. Todoroki was indeed striking, his features sharp and his manner calm, almost calculating. There was something about him that felt oddly familiar, though she couldn’t quite place why.

As the conversation continued, Rosie felt Katsuki’s eyes on her. She turned to look at him just as he leaned closer, his voice low and gruff. “Why the hell are you staring at him?”

Rosie raised an eyebrow, amused by his possessiveness. “Why can’t I?”

Katsuki’s intense crimson eyes narrowed slightly. “If you’re going to stare at someone, then stare at me.”

His gaze was so intense that Rosie felt a flutter in her chest, her face flushing as her ears twitched slightly in response. Katsuki had that effect on her—his raw, unapologetic intensity always made her heart skip a beat.

Before Rosie could respond, Izuku spoke up, pulling her back into the conversation. “So, Todoroki, we’re heading to the Eastern Ocean tomorrow. We’re looking for a pearl that is being guarded by creatures in Lanmarina.”

Rosie nodded, confirming Izuku’s words. “Yes, we’re gathering our last item for our current mission. Once we have it, we’ll be delivering the items to our client before we take on our next job.”

She smiled warmly at Todoroki. “You’re more than welcome to join us, Shoto.”

Katsuki tensed beside her, his jaw clenching slightly, but he said nothing. His eyes remained locked on Todoroki, clearly not thrilled about the idea. However, Rosie’s invitation had been extended, and Katsuki wasn’t about to openly object in front of everyone. His silence was enough to show he wasn’t pleased, though.

Todoroki, sensing the tension but unfazed by it, glanced at Katsuki before turning back to Rosie. “Thank you. I’ll join you, but I have a few things I need to take care of first. I’ll meet you in Lanmarina.”

“We’re happy to have you,” Rosie replied with a radiant smile.

Katsuki’s hand tightened slightly around his spoon, his gaze flicking to Rosie’s face, watching the way she smiled at Todoroki. The quiet, simmering frustration in his chest grew stronger, though he forced himself to stay calm.

That night, as the campfire crackled and the group settled in for the evening, Katsuki kept Rosie close—closer than usual.

Rosie, ever observant, noticed his unusual behavior but chose not to comment, finding his protectiveness somewhat endearing. She leaned against him as the stars began to twinkle in the dark sky, content in the warmth of his presence, even as Katsuki shot occasional glances in Todoroki’s direction, his sharp eyes never fully relaxed.

As the fire burned low and the others drifted into quiet conversation, Katsuki shifted.

Just why the hell did he care so much about her being near the Icy hot bastard?

The group stood at the bustling docks of Lanmarina, the salty air thick with the scent of fresh seafood and the cries of seagulls circling overhead. The coastal town was alive with activity, fishermen unloading their daily catch, merchants haggling over crates of aquamarine gemstones and shimmering pearls. The sun glistened off the azure waters, casting a brilliant reflection that made the sea seem almost magical.

Rosie breathed in deeply, her senses filled with the town’s charm. “This place is beautiful,” she said, her eyes sweeping over the harbor.

“They’re famous for their pearls,” Izuku added, looking out at the distant island they were heading toward. “And that’s where we’re going. The one with the sea serpents.”

Katsuki stood by their rented boat, scowling at the mention of the serpents. “Tch. We’ll see how tough these damn things are.” His tone was gruff, but Rosie could hear the excitement in his voice.

He always loved a good challenge.

After boarding their horses at the Inn, the group had rented a sturdy boat from a local fisherman, who warned them about the island’s reputation. But none of them were fazed. They were used to dangerous missions by now, and this one was no different. Rosie and Uraraka settled into the boat, while Katsuki and Izuku untied the ropes and pushed them off into the open water.

The boat rocked gently as they sailed across the calm sea, the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping against the hull creating a sense of peace. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the warm sun bathed them in light.

“Looks like we lucked out with the weather,” Uraraka said, shielding her eyes as she looked up at the clear skies.

“Let’s hope our luck holds when we get to the island,” Rosie responded, a smile tugging at her lips. She leaned over the side of the boat, watching schools of fish dart beneath the surface. It was a peaceful trip, but they all knew the real danger lay ahead.

After a few hours of smooth sailing, the island finally came into view. It was covered in dense forest, the towering trees stretching up toward the sky, their canopies thick and green. The island looked untouched, wild, and dangerous—exactly the kind of place you’d expect to find a pearl protected by sea serpents.

Once they reached the shore, they anchored the boat and climbed out, the sound of waves crashing softly behind them as they made their way onto the sandy beach. The jungle beyond loomed dark and mysterious, and a faint path led into the undergrowth.

“We’ll need to cut through the forest to reach the cave,” Izuku said, adjusting his pack as he looked ahead. “The pearl should be deep inside.”

Rosie nodded, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her sword as they began their trek through the thick forest. The jungle was alive with the sounds of wildlife—exotic birds called out from the treetops, and insects buzzed in the humid air. Vines hung from ancient trees, and the ground was soft beneath their feet, making their progress slow but steady.

The deeper they ventured, the more oppressive the heat became, but they pressed on, driven by the promise of the rare pearl. The air smelled of earth and damp moss, and shafts of sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the jungle floor.

After hours of hiking, they finally reached the mouth of a dark cave. The entrance was half-hidden by hanging vines and moss, but there was no mistaking the faint glow emanating from within.

“This is it,” Rosie whispered, her eyes wide with anticipation. She could feel the magic in the air—it was faint, but unmistakable.

Cautiously, they entered the cave, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they descended deeper into the earth. The further they went, the stronger the glow became, until they reached a small chamber. At the center of the room, sitting atop a pedestal of smooth stone, was the pearl.

It was breathtaking—larger than Rosie had imagined, and it gleamed with an otherworldly light. Its surface shimmered with hues of silver, blue, and pink, as though the colors of the ocean had been trapped inside.

“There it is,” Izuku said quietly, his voice filled with awe.

Katsuki stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he approached the pearl. “This better be worth the trouble,” he muttered, though he couldn’t hide his appreciation for the rare treasure.

Just as Rosie was about to take a step forward, a deep rumbling sound echoed through the cave, the ground beneath them trembling. “Uh-oh,” Uraraka muttered, her eyes darting around nervously.

Suddenly, the entire cave shook violently, and from the entrance, the screeching roar of a sea serpent pierced the air. In an instant, the peaceful mission turned into chaos.

“Move!” Katsuki barked as they all scrambled for their weapons.

From the cave entrance, two massive sea serpents slithered into view, their scales shimmering with the same colors as the pearl, their eyes glowing with primal fury. Their long, sinuous bodies coiled around the entrance, blocking their exit.

Rosie barely had time to unsheathe her sword before one of the serpents lunged at her. She dodged to the side, rolling across the stone floor and springing to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest.

Izuku leaped into action, blasting the serpent with a powerful kick, but its thick scales absorbed the blow. Katsuki followed up with an explosion, sending shards of rock and fire toward the other serpent, but it only seemed to enrage the creature.

“We need to get out of here!” Uraraka shouted as she dodged a whip of the serpent’s tail.

Rosie gritted her teeth, her sword flashing as she slashed at the serpent nearest her. Its thick hide made it tough to wound, but with a well-aimed strike, she managed to slice through one of its coils, causing it to hiss in pain.

Katsuki unleashed a barrage of explosions, creating a wall of smoke and fire that temporarily blinded the serpents. “Move now!” he yelled.

Seizing the moment, the group sprinted toward the exit, but the serpents weren’t done. One of them lunged again, its jaws snapping dangerously close to Uraraka. Before it could grab her, Katsuki roared, charging forward and blasting the creature away with a massive explosion. “Stay back, Round Face!” he shouted as Uraraka stumbled back, wide-eyed.

They barely made it out of the cave, but the serpents followed them, slithering after the party with terrifying speed. Rosie’s chest heaved as they sprinted through the jungle, the serpents crashing through trees and undergrowth behind them.

“Get to the boat!” Izuku yelled, glancing back at the approaching beasts.

The serpents broke through the forest, their massive bodies surging toward the shore. Rosie and Uraraka made it to the boat first, quickly pulling up the anchor as Katsuki and Izuku fought off the serpents with a combination of fire, explosions, and precise stabs.

As the boat drifted from the shore, the serpents lashed out, their jaws snapping just inches away from the hull. But finally, with one last blast from Katsuki, the serpent's recoiled, defeated for now.

Breathing heavily, they collapsed into the boat as it sailed safely out to sea.

“We got it,” Rosie said, holding the pearl up in triumph, her voice filled with both exhaustion and satisfaction.

“And we’re still alive,” Uraraka added with a shaky laugh, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Barely,” Katsuki grumbled, but even he couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips.

Katsuki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched Rosie with narrowed eyes. The soft flicker of candlelight from the tavern's lamps cast warm, golden hues across her face as she sipped from her glass. The sounds of lively chatter and clinking mugs filled the room, but here at their table, there was a strange sense of quiet between them.

“To think about all this trouble, just so a guy can gift some pearl to a woman,” Katsuki grumbled, staring into the drink in front of him.

Rosie giggled, the sound light and melodic. “I think it’s romantic,” she mused, setting her glass down gently.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, scoffing at her response. “Romantic? It’d be romantic if the idiot did it himself. Instead, we’re the ones doing all the dirty work.”

“You’re right,” she admitted with a small smile. “But still, imagine loving someone so much that you’d go to all this trouble to give them something special.”

Katsuki eyed her with a mixture of skepticism and something else—something deeper, though he would never admit it. “Are you even old enough to think of crap like that?” he asked, his tone half teasing but also genuinely curious.

Rosie laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. “I’m a hundred and twenty-two years old. Still rather young for an elf, but that didn’t stop my parents from talking about marriage every day.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and Katsuki’s expression shifted ever so slightly. He opened his mouth as if to ask more, maybe about her past or her family, but before he could speak, the moment was interrupted by the arrival of Uraraka and Izuku.

“Ah, that bath was exactly what I needed!” Uraraka said brightly, sliding into the booth beside Rosie. Her cheeks were still flushed from the warmth of the bathhouse, and she had a relaxed, contented smile on her face.

Izuku, settling in beside Katsuki, looked equally refreshed. “Yeah, after that fight, I think we all needed to wash the sea serpent guts off of us,” he added with a sheepish grin.

Katsuki let out an annoyed huff, but the tension in his shoulders had eased ever so slightly with the arrival of their friends. He glanced at Rosie, who was still smiling warmly at the newcomers. Something about her quiet calm had been pulling at him lately, making it harder for him to stay grumpy for too long.

“We’ll deliver the items to our client tomorrow,” Izuku said, shifting the conversation back to their mission. “It’s a half day’s ride from here, so we can take it easy tonight.”

“Thank the gods,” Uraraka sighed, resting her head on the back of the booth. “I’m not looking forward to any more serpent attacks anytime soon.”

Just then, the door to the tavern creaked open, and in walked Shoto Todoroki, his familiar two-toned hair catching the light as he scanned the room. His eyes, one blue and one gray, landed on their group, and with a subtle nod, he made his way over.

“Mind if I join?” he asked, his voice calm as ever.

“Sure!” Uraraka chirped, scooting over to make room for him beside her. “You missed the bathhouse, though. It was great.”

Todoroki took a seat with a quiet smile, looking at the group. “I’ll have to catch up on that later,” he said, glancing around the table.

Katsuki grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms tighter as Todoroki settled in. He shifted slightly, his leg brushing against Rosie’s under the table. His eyes flicked to her, then back to his drink, a frown still lingering on his face. Rosie, sensing his mood, gently nudged him with her elbow and gave him a playful smile.

“Be nice, Katsuki,” she whispered teasingly.

“Tch. Whatever,” Katsuki muttered, though he didn’t pull away from her touch. In fact, he seemed to relax a little more, his usual scowl softening—just a bit.

Izuku, oblivious to the tension, leaned forward. “We were just talking about the delivery tomorrow. It shouldn’t be too difficult. After that, we’ll be free to take on whatever’s next.”

“Good,” Todoroki replied, glancing at Katsuki briefly before turning his attention back to the group. “If you need an extra hand, I’ll be happy to help.”

Rosie smiled warmly at him, appreciating the offer. “Thank you, Shoto.”

Katsuki shifted in his seat again, and though he didn’t say anything, his eyes lingered on Rosie a little longer than usual. As the conversation flowed around them, he found himself more aware of her presence beside him—the way her laughter filled the air, the way she nudged him in that gentle, teasing way.

When she laughed at something Uraraka said, Katsuki couldn’t help but glance her way again. This time, when her eyes met his, she caught him staring. Rosie tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “You okay, Katsuki?”

“Tch. I’m fine,” he muttered, turning away quickly, but not before she caught the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks.

Uraraka and Izuku continued chatting with Todoroki, while Rosie turned her full attention to Katsuki, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “You know, you don’t have to be so tough all the time.”

Katsuki blinked, caught off guard by her words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smiled, leaning in a little closer. “It’s okay to let people in sometimes, Katsuki. We’re all friends here.”

For a moment, Katsuki was silent, his usual bravado faltering as he stared at her. There was something in the way she looked at him—something that made his heart skip a beat, though he’d never admit it. Before he could respond, however, Todoroki’s voice cut through the air.

“Are you two talking about something important?”

Katsuki snapped back to reality, his usual scowl returning full force. “Mind your own damn business, Icy Hot.”

Rosie just giggled again, shaking her head at Katsuki’s stubbornness as she returned to the conversation at hand.

Chapter Text

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon when the group arrived in Farin, a sprawling city with high stone walls, bustling streets, and an air of excitement. The scent of freshly baked goods, spices, and street food wafted through the narrow lanes as people prepared for the grand festival later that evening. Bright banners and lanterns hung overhead, casting the city in a warm, welcoming glow.

They had just left their client’s grand estate, where the gold was divided evenly.

“So much gold,” Uraraka marveled, staring at her pouch with wide eyes. The weight of it felt satisfying in her hands. “I can’t believe it paid off so well.”

Rosie chuckled, her soft pink hair catching the light as she stored her own pouch in the saddlebag of her horse, Divine. The mare nickered softly as Rosie stroked her neck, then offered her an apple. “I know, right? We’ve been on a roll lately. We should stay for the festival tonight,” Rosie suggested, a playful twinkle in her eyes. “It would be a nice way to unwind, especially after all the missions we've been taking.”

Katsuki, standing nearby with his arms crossed, snorted in amusement. “You just wanna stuff your face and get drunk.”

Todoroki, ever calm and composed, blinked at Katsuki’s comment. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

Rosie smiled, her eyes darting to Todoroki. “See, even Shoto agrees,” she said with a wink. “It’s been non-stop missions. A night of fun might be just what we need.”

Izuku, always the voice of reason, looked between the group thoughtfully. “It doesn’t seem like such a bad idea,” he admitted. “We can grab another mission in the morning and head off after that.”

“I agree with this!” Uraraka chimed in, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “A festival is always nice, and we deserve a break after everything we’ve been through.”

Katsuki huffed, though there was a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Fine. But don’t expect me to save your sorry asses if you get too drunk.”

Rosie giggled, shaking her head as she mounted Divine. “Oh, Katsuki, you’ll just have to keep a close eye on us then.”

As they made their way through the city streets, the festival preparations were in full swing. Stalls lined the cobblestone roads, vendors shouting out their wares—exotic spices, colorful trinkets, and handcrafted jewelry. The aromas of grilled meat, sweet pastries, and roasted nuts filled the air, making Uraraka’s stomach rumble audibly.

“Everything smells so good!” Uraraka exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. “We need to try all of it!”

“We’ll be broke again by morning if you try all of it,” Izuku teased, causing her to blush.

“If we’re going to stay then we should find rooms before they are all booked up.” Shoto suggested as Izuku nodded.

After finding an Inn, The Blushing Knave, they boarded their horses and dropped their things off in their rooms. As they approached the town square, the heart of the festival, they were met with the sight of a massive fountain at its center, water cascading down in shimmering streams. Around it, dancers twirled in colorful costumes, musicians played lively tunes on flutes and drums, and children ran around with ribbons and sparklers.

Rosie’s eyes sparkled as she took in the scene. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered

Uraraka was already leading them toward the food stalls, her eyes wide with anticipation as she surveyed the various options. “Look at all this food!” she gushed, grabbing a skewer of grilled meat from a nearby vendor.

Todoroki, ever calm, followed along with a subtle smile. “I’ve never seen a festival this lively,” he remarked, his gaze drifting over the crowd. “It’s... nice.”

“It’s better than running from sea serpents,” Izuku chuckled, the tension from their recent battle melting away in the festive atmosphere.

Katsuki, despite his earlier grumbling, seemed to relax as well, though he kept a close eye on Rosie as she explored the festival grounds with the others. He stuck close to her side, grumbling every now and then about the noise, but there was a softness in his gaze whenever she turned to smile at him.

After indulging in various foods and admiring the local artisans’ work, the group found themselves drawn to the heart of the celebration—a large stage where performers were preparing for a grand display of fireworks. The sky had grown dark, and the anticipation in the air was palpable.

Rosie leaned over to Katsuki as they found a spot near the stage. “Aren’t you glad we stayed?” she asked, her voice light with amusement.

Katsuki huffed but didn’t argue. “I guess it’s not the worst way to spend a night,” he admitted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

As the fireworks began to burst in the sky, casting vibrant colors across the city, the group fell into a comfortable silence, watching the display in awe. The air was filled with laughter, music, and the crackle of the fireworks overhead.

As the final burst of fireworks lit up the sky, Rosie glanced at Katsuki again, her expression soft. “Thank you for sticking around tonight.”

Katsuki, for once, didn’t grumble or scoff. Instead, he simply nodded, his eyes fixed on the fading colors in the sky. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep an eye on you,” he muttered, though there was a warmth in his voice that made Rosie smile.

Katsuki stood by the bar, arms crossed and his jaw clenched, staring at the woman in front of him—Rosie. She was laughing, singing, and dancing on top of the counter, a large pint of ale in her hand, sloshing the liquid around as she twirled. Her soft pink hair glistened in the low light, and her voice, though slurred, was beautiful. The entire tavern had joined in, patrons clapping and singing along, all drunk and thoroughly enjoying the chaos.

But Katsuki?

Katsuki was not enjoying it.

Deku was sitting under a table with Uraraka, who had passed out mid-conversation with a rat, mumbling about how it was “the cutest thing ever.” Izuku just kept muttering incoherent apologies, clearly tipsy but trying to maintain some semblance of control. And then there was Todoroki—sitting calmly at the bar, sipping his drink, observing the scene as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Damn bastard could have helped.

Katsuki had had enough. Rosie had been going for what felt like hours, and his patience was wearing thin. “Rosie,” he called, his tone sharp, though it had been met with little response thus far. “Get down from the bar.”

Rosie only giggled, tipping her pint back to take another drink. “But Katsu!” she slurred, swaying dangerously close to the edge of the bar. “The stars are so pretty tonight!” She raised her hand, pointing dramatically at the ceiling as if she could see them through the roof.

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose. This was ridiculous. “Get. Down,” he growled, louder this time.

Rosie wobbled, her feet dancing to an invisible beat as she twirled again. “No! I’m not done with my song!” she declared, raising her pint and spilling some of its contents on the bar below.

That was it.

With a quick movement, Katsuki lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her legs, hoisting her off the bar. Rosie let out a surprised yelp, her pint slipping from her fingers and crashing onto the floor with a shattering sound, though the crowd was too drunk to notice. “Noooo! My drink!” she whined, her arms flailing for a second before she settled against Katsuki’s hold, blinking up at him with a lazy smile. “Oh, it’s you…”

“You’re done,” Katsuki grumbled, adjusting her over his shoulder so she wouldn’t slip out of his arms.

Todoroki watched all this with his usual impassive expression, his drink held casually in one hand. “You know,” he said quietly, “if you carry her like that, she’s gonna puke.”

Katsuki’s scowl deepened. “I don’t need your advice, half-and-half.”

He readjusted her grip, remembering Todoroki’s warning. With a grunt, he shifted her so she was clinging to him with her arms around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist.

Rosie, oblivious to Katsuki’s growing annoyance, was now playing with his hair, fingers threading through the spiky strands. “Your hair is so soft,” she murmured, giggling. “And you smell really good, Katsu...”

Her voice was soft, almost flirtatious, and Katsuki's ears turned a shade of pink. “Cut it out,” he muttered.

Rosie buried her face into his neck, the warmth of her breath sending an unexpected shiver down his spine. “Mmm, you smell like... fire, smoke and... something else...” she whispered, nuzzling into him with a contented sigh.

Katsuki clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the way his heart was suddenly racing. “Stop talking,” he growled, though it lacked its usual edge.

Behind them, Todoroki stood up, slinging Uraraka’s limp form over his shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said simply, his voice as calm as ever.

Deku stumbled behind them, swaying slightly. “W-we should... probably get back... before she does something crazier…” he mumbled, though his steps were far from steady.

With Rosie still clinging to him, Katsuki made his way through the streets, her head nestled against his neck as she continued babbling about stars and how nice his hair was. Her breath tickled his skin, and though he would never admit it, a small part of him didn’t hate the way she was pressed against him.

They finally reached the inn, and Todoroki made quick work of taking Uraraka to her room, while Deku slumped against his door without much ceremony. Katsuki carried Rosie into her room, setting her down carefully on the bed. But before he could step away, she sat up abruptly, bouncing on the mattress.

“I’m not tired!” Rosie declared, her eyes wide and sparkling with mischief.

“Like hell you’re not,” Katsuki muttered, reaching for her arm to steady her, but she was already on her feet, swaying slightly as she took a few uneven steps around the room.

“Look, I can still—” Rosie’s sentence was cut off by a sudden gagging sound, and before Katsuki could react, she bolted toward the bathroom.

“Shit,” he hissed, following her quickly. By the time he reached her, she was hunched over the toilet, and he instinctively pulled her hair back, holding it out of her face as she retched.

Rosie groaned, her body trembling as she slumped forward, and Katsuki stayed by her side, one hand holding her hair, the other gently rubbing her back. “You’re such a damn idiot,” he muttered, though there was a surprising gentleness in his tone.

Rosie, still dizzy from both the alcohol and the vomiting, looked up at him with bleary eyes. “You’re... really sweet, you know that?” she murmured weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Katsuki scoffed, though his hand continued to rub soothing circles on her back. “Shut up and puke already.”

Rosie laughed softly, even as she leaned back against him, her exhaustion finally catching up with her. “You take such good care of me…” she mumbled, her eyelids growing heavy.

“Yeah, well, someone has to,” Katsuki muttered, his voice gruff but soft. “Now just... stay still, alright?”

With her head resting against his chest and his hands still steadying her, Rosie finally drifted into an exhausted, drunken sleep. Katsuki sighed, looking down at her peaceful face, his frustration slowly melting away.

“Damn woman,” he whispered, though there was a small, almost fond smile on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

Ensuring that Rosie was sound asleep, Katsuki gently tucked the blanket around her, his earlier gruffness now replaced with something much softer. He glanced down at her peaceful face, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. With a sigh, he set a glass of water on the bedside table, knowing she’d need it when she woke up hungover in the morning.

Quietly stepping out of her room, he closed the door behind him and turned to leave. But as soon as he entered the hallway, he came face-to-face with Todoroki, who stood there like a statue, his gaze as unreadable as ever.

Katsuki scowled. “Why the hell are you just standing there, half-and-half?” he snapped, his voice low to avoid waking anyone.

Todoroki blinked, his expression remaining neutral. “It seems you’re on the track to fulfilling your mother’s wishes,” he said in that calm, almost detached tone of his. “Will you be going home, then?”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his patience already thin from the night’s events. “Hell no. I haven’t fulfilled anything,” he growled, his tone defensive.

Todoroki raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Katsuki’s attitude. “You’re a prince, Bakugou. You have obligations. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to face them. Inheriting the throne isn’t something you can run from forever.”

Katsuki scoffed, running a hand through his spiky hair in frustration. “No shit, I know that.” His voice was gruff, but there was an underlying tension in his words, as if the weight of Todoroki’s statement pressed heavily on his shoulders.

Todoroki crossed his arms, his expression still impassive. “Midoriya mentioned that you’ve been keeping it a secret,” he said, his eyes sharp and assessing. “Does Rosie even know what you are?”

Katsuki’s entire body tensed at the question, his jaw clenching tightly. He didn’t respond right away, the silence between them thick and heavy.

Todoroki pressed on, his voice steady but with a hint of something more—concern, perhaps? “You care about her, don’t you? What happens when she finds out? When she sees what you are—what you’re capable of?”

Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides. His fiery temper usually would have flared by now, but this hit too close to home. He didn’t want to think about it—the inevitable moment when Rosie would see him for what he truly was. Not just a fighter, not just someone who could wield explosions, but something more dangerous. A prince destined for the throne of a powerful kingdom, with a bloodline tied to fire and fury.

“She doesn’t need to know,” Katsuki finally said, his voice rough and low, as if the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

Todoroki shook his head slightly, his mismatched eyes unreadable. “That’s not fair to her,” he said quietly. “Rosie deserves to know the truth, especially if she’s going to be by your side.”

Katsuki’s glare could’ve cut through steel, but even he knew that Todoroki had a point. Keeping secrets from Rosie… it was eating at him. But how was he supposed to tell her? How was he supposed to explain that he wasn’t just some guy, but a royal heir with a lineage tied to powers she might never understand? Worse, what if she rejected him because of it?

Todoroki, sensing his internal conflict, softened his tone slightly. “It’s better she finds out from you, Bakugou, than from someone else. She’ll understand, more than you think.”

Katsuki turned away, his mind spinning with the weight of everything left unsaid. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered, pushing past Todoroki.

As he reached his room, Todoroki’s voice called after him, softer now but still firm. “You can’t run from this forever.”

Katsuki paused for a brief moment, his hand on the door handle, before he opened it and stepped inside, leaving Todoroki standing alone in the hallway.

Once inside his room, Katsuki leaned against the door, his mind racing. He hated that Todoroki was right. He hated the idea of burdening Rosie with the truth, but more than that, he hated the idea of her finding out on her own—of seeing him transform and realizing what he really was without warning.

He ran a hand through his hair again, frustration simmering beneath the surface. But for now, he shoved it down, just like he always did. The truth would have to wait.

Rosie, still nursing her headache from the night before, leaned heavily on Katsuki as they sat in the tavern. She cradled a mug of steaming coffee between her hands, trying to wake up. Across from her, Deku rubbed his temples while the ranger sat slumped in his chair, both of them looking like they'd seen better mornings. Only Katsuki and Todoroki seemed unaffected by the revelry from the previous night, their expressions focused and alert.

The waitress approached with plates of food, setting them down in front of each of the group. Rosie murmured a quiet “thank you” before looking down at her plate—a simple but filling meal of scrambled eggs, bread, cheese, and fresh fruit. It was exactly what she needed to settle her queasy stomach.

Katsuki glanced at her, his typical scowl in place. “Just eat it all so we can get on the road,” he grunted, though the slight softness in his voice hinted at his concern for her well-being.

Rosie flashed him a lazy smile, too tired to argue. “Yes, sir,” she teased lightly, before taking a small bite of the eggs. She knew better than to skip breakfast, especially with the day they had ahead of them.

As they ate, the atmosphere was subdued, with only the occasional clink of silverware breaking the silence. Deku and the ranger were still sipping on their coffee, slowly coming back to life, while Todoroki seemed content to quietly eat his meal.

“Are we heading straight to the Adventurer's Guild after this?” Todoroki asked, his calm tone cutting through the quiet.

“Yeah,” Katsuki replied, cutting into his food with precise movements. “I want us to pick up something decent this time. No more half-baked jobs.”

“I’m with you on that,” Deku groaned. “The last mission was intense, but I think we can handle something more challenging now.”

Rosie nodded in agreement. “I feel the same. And I think after the festival and some rest, we’re ready for something bigger.” She glanced at Katsuki. “What do you think?”

Katsuki gave her a brief, approving nod. “We’ll see what they’ve got. But I’m not wasting time on another weak job.”

They finished their breakfast quickly, eager to get moving. Once their plates were clean and the coffee had done its job in reviving Deku and the ranger, they headed toward the Adventurer's Guild.

The guild was already buzzing when they arrived, a riot of noise and motion that hit Rosie like a slap of cold water to the face. The sharp scent of parchment and ink mixed with the tang of steel and worn leather, while adventurers in all states of dishevelment jostled for position at the central mission board. The clatter of mugs, the gruff laughter, and the occasional magical spark from an overeager mage filled the air.

Rosie yawned behind her hand, still a little dazed from the wine she and Uraraka had indulged in the night before. “Ugh,” she muttered. “Why are all guild halls so loud in the mornings?”

Katsuki didn’t answer. He was already cutting through the crowd, towering and scowling his way to the mission board like a man on a warpath. Rosie scurried after him, Uraraka yawning beside her, while Todoroki and Izuku brought up the rear, chatting quietly. The board was a chaos of posted jobs—monster exterminations, escort quests, mysterious disappearances. Katsuki’s eyes scanned the lists like a hawk, and within moments he yanked a parchment off the board and shoved it into Todoroki’s hands.

“This one,” he said flatly.

Todoroki gave it a once-over before reading aloud. “A cult has taken over a local orphanage. They’ve been sacrificing the weaker children and training the stronger ones into future zealots. The town’s council is too afraid to act and is offering a large reward for outside help to eliminate the cult and rescue any survivors.”

A silence fell over the group.

Rosie’s stomach churned. “That’s... horrific.” Her hand dropped to her bow unconsciously. “We have to take it. No question.”

Izuku frowned. “It’s risky. Cults like that tend to have dark magic. But if kids are involved, we have to help.”

“It pays well,” Todoroki added quietly. “But it’s not for the faint-hearted.”

“Then it’s perfect for us,” Katsuki grunted, already turning toward the guild master’s desk.

But before he could take three steps, Uraraka piped up from behind, holding up a different mission slip. “Wait, what about this one? A haunted vineyard! Spirits in the wine barrels!”

“I’m not fighting haunted grapes, ranger,” Katsuki snapped over his shoulder.

“I’d rather do that than child-murder cults,” she muttered.

“I vote spiders,” Izuku offered cheerfully, holding up a third mission slip. “A nest of abyssal spiders near the mines. Highly dangerous, but rare venom.”

“Nope,” Rosie said, stepping away from him. “Absolutely not. Last time I was nearly turned into a cocoon. I’m still picking silk out of my hair.”

Todoroki held up a parchment in silence. “This one says we just have to move a cursed piano from a noble’s manor.”

“I am not lifting haunted furniture again,” Rosie deadpanned. “It screamed at me.”

Katsuki finally sighed and snatched the orphanage mission back from Todoroki’s hands. “You idiots done wasting my time?”

The others exchanged glances before nodding. “Yeah.”

Rosie gave a theatrical shrug. “Fine, but if I get cursed again, I’m blaming all of you.”

Within the hour, they were packed, saddled, and already riding out through the city gates onto the King’s Road. The sun was climbing higher, casting long shadows across the cobbled path and the wide fields that stretched beyond it.

Izuku and Todoroki rode side by side behind the others, Izuku excitedly chatting away. “So on the mission in Frostfang, Rosie accidentally set off a magical trap because she wouldn’t stop arguing with Katsuki—”

“It was his fault,” Rosie called over her shoulder.

“She kicked a rune stone!” Katsuki yelled back.

“I thought it was a weird-looking mushroom!”

Uraraka chuckled beside them, holding the map.

Todoroki blinked, “are they always like this?”

“Constantly,” Izuku sighed. “Last month, they tried to outdo each other killing wyverns. We nearly got crushed by a rockslide, then Rosie tried to poison Katsuki’s stew as revenge—”

“It was a prank!” Rosie shouted again.

“Pretty sure I hallucinated for six hours,” Katsuki growled, eyes narrowing.

“You’re still alive,” Rosie said with a smug smile as her horse trotted beside his. “Barely.”

Katsuki leaned forward slightly, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You wanna try that again, sweetheart?”

Rosie glared. “Don’t tempt me, explosion boy. I will stab you in your sleep.”

“I dare you,” he shot back. “But I’ll wake up before you get close and tie you to a tree by your ankles.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

The tension snapped in the air—but instead of it escalating, Katsuki smirked. His tone softened just slightly as he looked her over, eyes hooded. “You’d like it, wouldn’t you?”

Rosie turned scarlet. “K-Katsuki—!”

He chuckled low, pleased with himself as her voice cracked and she turned her face away, hiding behind her horse’s mane.

“Ugh,” Izuku groaned. “Now they’re flirting again.”

Uraraka blinked. “That was flirting?”

“That was foreplay,” Izuku snorted.

Rosie squeaked and kicked her horse into a gallop. “We’re taking this road, come on!”

“That road leads straight into a thicket of briars!” Katsuki yelled after her, chasing after with a wicked grin.

“I’d rather fight thorns than listen to your smug face!”

“And I will carry your flustered ass out of there when you get stuck again!”

Izuku just sighed. “I should’ve taken the vineyard ghosts.”

Chapter Text

The sun was setting behind the dilapidated walls of the town as the party entered, casting long shadows over the streets of what was once a bustling place. Now, it felt quiet—too quiet. The narrow alleys seemed almost deserted, the windows of houses shut tight as if the townspeople were hiding from something—or someone.

Rosie glanced around, her hand instinctively hovering near her dagger. “This place gives me the creeps,” she muttered under her breath, glancing at Katsuki walking beside her. His sharp eyes scanned the streets, already on edge.

“I don’t like it either,” he grumbled, fists clenched at his sides. “Feels like someone’s watching us.”

Izuku, who was walking ahead with Uraraka, looked back, his expression equally tense. “This town is a lot worse off than I thought. There’s a real fear here.”

They made their way toward the inn, their plan simple: split up and gather as much information about the orphanage as they could. They’d heard rumors from the guild about a cult sacrificing children and brainwashing others, but they needed solid proof before they could act. The townspeople would be their best source of intel—for now.

Inside the inn, the air was stale, and the innkeeper gave them a nervous look as they approached the counter. Katsuki and Izuku handled the rooms while the others scouted the town.

Rosie slipped out the door with Uraraka, the two of them heading toward the marketplace, which was still open despite the lack of foot traffic. The few people that were there moved in hushed tones, avoiding eye contact. Rosie approached a vendor selling dried fruits and tried to strike up a conversation.

“Excuse me, we’re new to town and heard about an orphanage here. We’re interested in helping out—maybe adopting. Do you know where we could go to ask about it?”

The vendor’s face paled, and he quickly glanced around, his voice low as he handed her a bag of fruit. “You should leave it alone, miss. That orphanage… no one goes near it anymore. Best if you don’t either.”

Rosie narrowed her eyes. “Why is that?”

He leaned in closer, his hands trembling slightly. “There’s something wrong with that place. Children go in, but they don’t come out the same. I’ve heard things—whispers of sacrifices. It’s not safe. Keep your head down, and don’t go looking for trouble.”

Rosie exchanged a look with Uraraka, both of them sensing that they were on the right track.

Meanwhile, Katsuki wandered through the more industrial part of town, speaking with a blacksmith who had lived there for decades. “That orphanage,” Katsuki started, leaning against the counter, “what’s the story with it?”

The blacksmith wiped his brow, looking warily at Katsuki. “Used to be a good place for the kids. But ever since the new headmistress took over, it’s been bad news. The town’s too scared to say much, but there’s talk of strange rituals at night. Kids missing. The ones that stay—well, they ain’t right no more.”

Katsuki scowled, anger boiling in his chest. “Why hasn’t anyone stopped them?”

The blacksmith shrugged helplessly. “Folks who try to speak up either disappear or turn up dead. No one wants to risk it.”

By the time they regrouped at the inn, it was clear that the cult was controlling the orphanage through fear and intimidation. Izuku and Todoroki had similar reports from the townspeople they’d spoken to.

“They’re terrified,” Deku said, sitting down at the table in their private room. “No one dares to even approach the orphanage, and the few who have seen what’s happening refuse to talk. This isn’t just some rumor. There’s real evil there.”

Rosie nodded grimly. “We need a way to get inside without raising suspicion. We need to see what’s going on with our own eyes.”

“I have an idea,” Todoroki said, his voice calm. “What if we pretend to be couples interested in adopting? It would give us a legitimate reason to get inside without raising alarms. I can sneak in while the rest of you keep their attention.”

Rosie perked up at the idea. “That could work. If we pass off as potential parents, we might be able to buy some time.”

“Fine,” Katsuki said, his tone clipped. “Rosie and I will go as one couple, and Deku and ranger can be the other.”

Izuku blinked in surprise but nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. While we’re inside, Shoto can slip away and gather evidence.”

Uraraka chimed in, “We’ll need to look the part. If we’re going to pass as a couple wanting to adopt, we have to be convincing.”

Rosie chuckled, raising an eyebrow at Katsuki. “Think you can act like a loving partner, Bakugou?”

Katsuki grunted, looking a little flustered. “Just don’t get in my way.”

Todoroki, unbothered by the banter, stood up. “I’ll scout the perimeter before we go in. We need to be ready for anything.”

Rosie gave him a nod, her mind already racing with the next steps. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll make our way there. Katsuki and I will go first and then Uraraka and Izuku will go in after so as to not alarm the cult from making rash decisions.”

The next morning, Rosie and Katsuki stood before a mirror in their room at the inn, their disguises making them look like an unassuming, wealthy couple looking to adopt. Rosie had traded her usual revealing clothing for a simple, elegant dress in soft blue that flowed around her knees. Her long, pink hair was tied up into a neat bun with soft curls framing her face, giving her the appearance of a young, modest wife.

Katsuki, on the other hand, had swapped his combat attire for a tailored coat and trousers, his usual scowl toned down to look more approachable—but only slightly.

As Rosie adjusted her dress and ran her hands over the fabric nervously, Katsuki leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, watching her.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

She met his gaze in the mirror, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I’m not sure how convincing I’ll be as your ‘loving wife,’ but I’ll do my best.”

Katsuki smirked, his usual cocky confidence evident. “Just stick close to me and let me handle it. We’re only here to scout, not win any acting awards.”

Rosie shot him a playful glare, though a hint of nervousness lingered in her eyes. “Still, you could try not to scowl the whole time. Newlyweds are supposed to look happy, not like they’re ready to kill someone.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. Without a word, he reached into his coat pocket. “Give me your hand,” he said, his voice low and unexpectedly gentle.

Rosie blinked in surprise but did as she was told, holding out her hand. Katsuki took it in his own, and before she could ask what he was doing, he slid a silver ring onto her finger. The ring glinted in the dim light, the pink diamond catching her eye.

Rosie gasped softly, her heart skipping a beat. “It’s beautiful... What’s it for?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Katsuki shrugged, but there was something almost shy in his demeanor as he responded. “We’re supposed to be husband and wife—and wealthy. She’d see right through us if we showed up without rings.”

Rosie’s eyes darted to his face, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “Where did you get it?”

He held up his own hand, showing a plain black ring that adorned his finger. “Picked up some rings when I went to talk to the blacksmith earlier. Figured we’d need ‘em.”

Rosie’s blush deepened as she admired the ring on her hand. The idea that Katsuki had gone out of his way to think of something like this for their disguise, even though he wasn’t the most romantic person, made her heart flutter.

Katsuki noticed the flush of color on her cheeks, and his grin widened slightly. Without warning, he stepped closer, slipping his arm around her waist with an easy possessiveness. His touch, strong and sure, sent a shiver down her spine, but she tried to steady herself, leaning into him as naturally as she could.

“You alright?” Katsuki muttered, his hand resting comfortably on her hip, his breath warm near her ear.

Rosie’s heart raced, but she smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a smirk again. “Let’s get this over with. Try not to freak out, alright?”

Rosie smiled, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. But the warmth of his hand and the weight of the ring on her finger made it hard to keep her composure. Blushing slightly, she rested her head briefly against his shoulder as they prepared to walk into the orphanage, feeling oddly more connected to him than ever.

They made their way through the dim streets toward the orphanage, passing small groups of townspeople who stared at them with wary, hollow eyes. As they approached the large iron gates of the orphanage, Rosie’s stomach tightened. The building was decrepit, its once-white exterior stained with grime and moss. It loomed over the street like a forgotten monument to despair, its windows dark and foreboding.

Katsuki knocked firmly on the large wooden door, his other arm still wrapped around Rosie. After a few tense moments, the door creaked open, revealing an old man with hunched shoulders and a vacant expression. Without a word, he stepped aside to let them in.

Rosie exchanged a glance with Katsuki before they stepped into the orphanage, where a chill seemed to hang in the air. The inside was just as grim as the outside—gray, cold, and silent, except for the distant sound of children’s voices echoing faintly through the halls. The once-beautiful wooden floors were scuffed and scratched, and the walls were bare except for faded, peeling wallpaper.

They were soon greeted by a tall woman with sharp, angular features and a thin, pale smile that never quite reached her eyes. She wore a long black dress with sleeves that brushed the floor, and her cold, unnerving gaze seemed to size them up in an instant. Her hair, long and dark, was pinned tightly to her head, giving her a severe, almost skeletal appearance.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth but hollow. “I am Mistress Elara, the headmistress of this orphanage. You must be the couple interested in adopting.”

Katsuki’s grip on Rosie’s waist tightened subtly as they both nodded. “That’s right,” Katsuki said smoothly. “We’re newlyweds, looking to expand our family.”

Rosie forced a warm smile, trying to play her part. “We’ve heard wonderful things about this orphanage.”

Mistress Elara’s smile widened, but it sent a chill down Rosie’s spine. There was something deeply unsettling about the woman—the way her eyes lingered too long, the sharpness of her features. It felt like she was looking straight through them, as if she knew they were lying.

“Of course,” Elara said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “We take great care of the children here. Many of them come from unfortunate circumstances, but we do our best to provide them with… guidance.”

As they followed Mistress Elara through the orphanage, Katsuki kept his hand firmly around Rosie’s hip, a constant reminder of the role they had to play. They walked down narrow, dimly lit corridors lined with small doors that seemed to lead to the children’s rooms. Every step they took seemed to echo ominously in the silence.

“The children are very disciplined here,” Elara continued as she led them. “We teach them values that will prepare them for the world. Strength is important, as you know, and only the strong survive.”

Rosie felt a knot form in her stomach at the woman’s words. There was something off about the way she spoke of the children, as if they were more objects to be molded than individuals to be cared for.

When they passed by one of the open doors, Rosie caught a glimpse of a small child sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the wall. His eyes were hollow, lifeless, and he didn’t even turn to look at them as they passed. She squeezed Katsuki’s arm lightly, and he gave a subtle nod.

He had seen it too.

The deeper they went into the orphanage, the worse it got. The children they saw were pale and gaunt, their eyes dull, as if the life had been drained out of them. It was clear that this was no place of care and nurturing—it was a prison.

Mistress Elara stopped in front of a large, ornate door at the end of the hallway. She turned to them with that same cold smile. “This is where we assess the children’s potential. Only the strongest are allowed to stay here. The others…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, I’m sure you understand.”

Rosie forced a smile, though every fiber of her being wanted to recoil from this woman. “Of course,” she said softly, hoping her voice didn’t betray her disgust.

Katsuki tightened his grip on Rosie’s waist again, as if grounding her. “We’re eager to meet some of the children,” he said, his voice steady. “We want to make sure we find the right fit.”

Mistress Elara nodded, though her smile never wavered. “Naturally. Come, I’ll show you to our selection room.”

As they followed her once more, Rosie’s heart pounded in her chest. This place wasn’t just desolate—it was evil. The cult’s influence was everywhere, suffocating the orphanage like a poison. She exchanged a glance with Katsuki, and she could see the same rage simmering beneath his calm exterior. They needed to find a way to expose this place and save the children inside—but for now, they had to keep playing their part.

As they reached the selection room, Rosie couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into the heart of the beast. And the beast, in the form of Mistress Elara, was watching their every move.

“Take a seat,” Mistress Elara smiled. “I shall grab the questionnaire, please give me a moment.”

As soon as Mistress Elara left the room with her unsettlingly sweet smile, Katsuki’s smile vanished instantly. His whole demeanor shifted, tension rippling through his body like a storm building on the horizon. His fists clenched at his sides, and Rosie could feel the simmering fury radiating off him. His jaw tightened, and his crimson eyes burned with barely restrained rage.

“This place reeks of filth,” he growled under his breath, his voice a dangerous rumble. “I swear, I’ll burn it to the damn ground.”

Rosie’s eyes widened in alarm as she placed a calming hand on his arm. “Katsuki, you can’t.”

He shot her a fierce look, his fists tightening even more. “You saw the way she looked at us—she’s a damn cult leader, and this whole place is rotten. Those kids...I’m not just gonna sit here and pretend everything’s fine. I’ll burn this place to ash and take that witch with it.”

Rosie could see the barely controlled violence in his eyes, the way his muscles tensed as if ready to explode into action at any second. She knew he was serious—Katsuki Bakugou didn’t make idle threats.

But if he acted now, it would be disastrous.

“Katsuki, stop.” Rosie’s voice was soft but firm, her heart pounding as she tried to calm him down. She gently placed her hand over his clenched fist, feeling the heat emanating from him. “If you burn this place down now, the children will die too.”

His eyes flickered, narrowing at her words, but she could see the conflict in his gaze. “They’re already dead if they stay here. We need to stop this now.”

“I know,” she whispered, her thumb brushing against the back of his hand, trying to soothe the storm raging inside him. “But if we rush in and destroy everything, we’ll lose them. We need to be smart about this. They’re counting on us.”

His fist loosened slightly beneath her touch, but the fury still blazed in his eyes. “Pretending like nothing’s wrong makes me sick.”

“I feel the same,” Rosie said, her voice gentle but steady. “But we can’t afford to act on impulse. If we blow our cover, they’ll know, and they’ll kill the children before we can even save them.”

Katsuki growled low in his throat, his fingers twitching as he warred with his instincts. Rosie tightened her grip on his hand, and before she knew it, she brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles softly. The intimate gesture caught him off guard, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at her.

“Please, Katsuki,” she whispered, her gaze meeting his, pleading with him. “Trust me. We have to play along, for now. It’s our best shot. We’ll take them down, but we have to be smart.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched as he felt the warmth of her lips against his skin, and for a moment, the red-hot anger inside him flickered. He looked into her eyes, saw the determination and care, and slowly—almost reluctantly—let out a long, frustrated breath. His fists unclenched, and his body began to relax.

“I hate this,” he muttered, though his voice had lost some of its edge.

“I know,” Rosie replied, still holding his hand. “But we’re in this together. We’ll save them. We just have to be patient.”

Katsuki grunted, his gaze still burning, but his posture softened. “Fine. But the second we have what we need, this place goes up in flames.”

Rosie smiled faintly, relieved that she’d managed to calm him. “Deal.”

Just as she released his hand, Mistress Elara returned, her smile still sickeningly sweet, a stack of papers in her hand. “Thank you for waiting,” she chirped. “Now, let’s get started on our questionnaire, shall we?”

Rosie squeezed Katsuki’s hand one last time before letting go. Instead he placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently which made her feel better.

Chapter Text

Rosie settled into the booth, the relief of her shower barely cutting through the lingering disgust she felt after leaving the orphanage. The grim atmosphere of the place still clung to her like a shroud, and even after scrubbing herself clean, she couldn’t shake it off.

“So, what did you find?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual as she addressed Shoto, who sat across from her.

Shoto blinked, his usual calm expression unchanged as he placed a worn black leather book on the table. It was covered in dried blood, making Rosie’s stomach churn, but she forced herself to look at it. “I snuck in through a window on the second story. Most of the doors were locked, but I made a key out of ice and unlocked them.”

He paused for a moment, as if remembering something particularly unpleasant. “Several children were locked in cells. But the last door at the end of the hallway—it wasn’t a cell. It was filled with books, and this one,” he nodded toward the bloodstained tome, “was closed on a pedestal in the center of the room. Seemed important, so I took it. I also found a set of keys.” He tossed a rusty ring of keys onto the table.

Rosie’s eyes flickered to the keys, her throat tightening at the sight of the dried blood caked on the ring. Her mind wandered to the poor souls who must have been trapped behind those doors. She forced the lump in her throat down.

“We should be careful with that book,” she said softly, eyes shifting back to the leather-bound tome. “It could be enchanted.”

Shoto nodded in agreement. “I already took the liberty of finding someone who could help us with that, but they’re in the next town over.”

Rosie ran a hand through her still-damp hair, trying to gather her thoughts. “Good. You should take it to them. Maybe they can decipher the runes along the spine too.”

Izuku joined them at the table, looking slightly more refreshed after his shower. “She’s right,” he said, glancing between Rosie and Shoto. “There are hundreds of cults out there. If we can figure out which one this is, we’ll be able to approach this situation more effectively. We need to understand their rituals, their goals. They’re obviously dangerous.”

Rosie nodded. “And if we know what they’re planning, we can stop them before they hurt more children.”

Shoto rose from the table, gathering the book and keys. “I’ll head out at dawn.”

The next morning, Shoto rode toward the neighboring town, the black book tucked securely in his pack. The ride was peaceful, but his mind churned with thoughts of the cult. The image of those children locked away in that hellish orphanage haunted him, pushing him forward.

By midday, he reached the town. It was a stark contrast to the gloom of the orphanage’s town—bustling with life, colorful market stalls lining the streets, and townsfolk chatting and laughing in the sun. But Shoto wasn’t here for the scenery.

He had a mission.

He made his way to a small shop tucked away on a quieter street. It was a quaint little place, lined with shelves of potions, trinkets, and scrolls. The sign above the door read “Enchantments & Runes.” Shoto pushed the door open and stepped inside, the scent of herbs and incense immediately filling his senses.

“Welcome,” a soft, feminine voice greeted him.

Shoto turned toward the voice and found himself facing a young woman with dark, cascading hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. She was striking, with an air of calm authority about her. She wore simple, elegant robes, and around her neck hung a delicate silver amulet in the shape of a crescent moon.

“I’m looking for Momo,” Shoto said, stepping forward.

The woman smiled. “You’ve found her. How can I help?”

Shoto reached into his pack and pulled out the bloodstained book. “I need this examined. It’s connected to a cult that’s taken over an orphanage. I believe it’s enchanted, and there are runes written along the spine that we can’t decipher.”

Momo’s expression shifted to one of concern as she gently took the book from him. She studied it for a moment, running her fingers over the worn leather and bloodstains. “This is... dark magic,” she murmured. “Very dark.”

Shoto nodded, his eyes hard. “The cult is sacrificing children to their god. We need to know what’s in that book. It’s important.”

Momo frowned but didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do what I can.” She moved to her worktable, laying the book down carefully. With a soft chant, she placed her hands over it, a faint glow emitting from her palms. Shoto watched in silence as she worked, her brow furrowed in concentration.

After several minutes, the glow faded, and Momo let out a small sigh of relief. “The enchantment is broken,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Now, let’s see what these runes say.”

She opened the book, her eyes scanning the runes along the spine and the first few pages. Her expression darkened as she read, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“This cult,” she began, her voice low, “is devoted to a god of chaos and destruction. They sacrifice the weak children to this god, Lan’quila and raise the strong ones to become their followers—soldiers for their cause.”

Shoto’s eyes narrowed. “And the book?”

Momo flipped through the pages, her fingers tracing the intricate runes and diagrams. “It contains their rituals. Dark magic designed to summon their god and empower their followers. If they complete these rituals...”

“What happens?” Shoto asked, his voice tense.

Momo looked up at him, her eyes grave. “If they succeed, they’ll awaken their god, and the entire town—maybe more—will fall under their control. They plan to sacrifice the town's children to fuel their god’s power.”

Shoto’s jaw clenched. “We have to stop them.”

Momo nodded. “This book is their key. If you can destroy it, you’ll cripple their ability to perform these rituals.”

Shoto took a deep breath, his mind racing. “Thank you, Momo. How does one go about destroying a magic book like this?” His voice was steady, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on his shoulders. The bloodstained tome in his pack was more than just a cursed object; it was the key to stopping the cult and saving the children trapped within their control.

Momo gave him a small, reassuring smile, her dark eyes glinting with a mixture of wisdom and empathy. “Destroying a book like this isn’t as complicated as you might think,” she began. “Magic imbued into objects can be undone if the object itself is reduced to nothing. The simplest method is to burn it and scatter the ashes to the winds. Fire is a great cleanser, especially against dark magic.”

Shoto considered her words, his hand moving to retrieve a small pouch of coins from his belt. “Thank you. I appreciate your help,” he said, opening the pouch. He moved to offer her payment, but before he could hand it to her, Momo gently placed her hand atop his, stopping him.

“There’s no need for that,” she said softly, her touch light yet firm. “Consider this free of charge. I’ve been wanting to interfere with this cult for some time.” She withdrew her hand and smiled, though her eyes clouded slightly as if wrestling with some internal conflict.

Shoto’s brow furrowed in confusion. “If that’s the case, why haven’t you gotten involved already?”

Momo sighed, her fingers absently toying with the silver crescent moon pendant around her neck. “It’s not for lack of desire,” she admitted. “I’m only an apprentice. My master, Enchantress Midnight, has ordered that we not get involved. She believes this matter is better left to others.”

Shoto raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “And you disagree?”

Her smile was faint but telling. “I do. The cult may be small, but they’re dangerous enough to prey on the weak. The suffering they cause... well, it’s hard to stand by and do nothing when innocent lives are at stake. But, for now, I’m bound by my master’s wishes.”

He nodded, understanding her predicament. As an apprentice, she had to follow orders, even if her heart pulled her in a different direction. Yet there was a fire behind her calm demeanor, a resolve that matched his own.

Momo’s voice grew more serious as she leaned forward. “Once you’ve destroyed the book, I suggest setting the orphanage ablaze. Fire not only cleanses magic but also ensures that no one else stumbles upon whatever remnants of the cult remain. You must make sure nothing can be salvaged or continued by future followers.”

Shoto’s expression darkened. He had already suspected that they would need to do something drastic, but hearing Momo confirm it made the situation feel even more dire. “What about the children under their control?” he asked. “If we burn the place down, we can’t leave them behind. They’re innocent, even if the cult has tried to twist their minds.”

Momo nodded, her gaze softening. “Of course. Bring them to me, here in this town. I’ll do what I can to break the enchantments the cult has placed on them. Afterward, I’ll ensure they find suitable homes. I know people here who would take them in with open arms. We can give them a chance at a better life.”

There was an earnestness in her voice that made Shoto believe her. He felt a rare flicker of relief. At least they had an ally, someone who could help these children after everything they’d been through.

“Thank you,” Shoto said quietly, sincerely. He slipped the book carefully back into his pack, his mind already calculating the next steps. Burn the book, rescue the children, destroy the orphanage. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary.

As he turned to leave, Momo’s voice stopped him. “Shoto,” she said softly, and he turned to look at her. “Be careful. Dark magic has a way of lingering, even after you think it’s gone. Don’t underestimate this cult, no matter how small they may seem.”

Her words lingered in the air as he nodded and exited the shop, the midday sun casting a soft glow over the bustling town. He mounted his horse and began the journey back to his companions, the weight of the book still heavy in his pack.

As he rode, Shoto found his thoughts drifting back to Momo. She was different from the others he’d met on this mission—calm, composed, and undeniably powerful despite her status as an apprentice. There was a grace to the way she handled herself, her intelligence shining through in every word. And, he had to admit, she was beautiful. Not in the conventional sense, but in the quiet, radiant way that drew people in without effort.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. There was no time for such thoughts. His party needed him, and they had an entire orphanage of children to save. But as the town faded into the distance behind him, he couldn’t help but remember the look in Momo’s eyes when she had spoken about helping the children, about her desire to do more.

With determination, Shoto spurred his horse forward, the road stretching out ahead of him as he headed back to face the cult—and whatever darkness awaited.

Shoto made his way toward the meeting point just outside of town, where they’d agreed to gather after scouting. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden hue over the field, and a gentle breeze rustled the tall grass. In the distance, he could see the old oak tree where they were supposed to regroup. However, when he arrived, neither Izuku nor Uraraka were anywhere to be seen.

What he did see, though, was enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

Katsuki was hovering over Rosie, his body close to hers as she sat on the ground with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her skirt had ridden up slightly, exposing more of her pale skin than she likely realized. Rosie’s face was a deep shade of crimson, her hands covering her cheeks as she desperately tried to hide her embarrassment.

Shoto stopped in his tracks, blinking at the scene. "What is going on?"

Rosie let out a squeak and immediately tried to scramble off Katsuki, only to find herself still partially entangled with him. “It’s not what it looks like!” she blurted, her voice muffled by her hands. Her cheeks were burning, and her eyes darted everywhere but at Katsuki or Shoto, clearly mortified by the situation.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was less bothered. He threw Shoto a lazy smirk, clearly amused by Rosie’s flustered state. “Yeah, calm down, Icy Hot,” Katsuki grunted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “We were just sparring.”

"Sparring?" Shoto repeated, skeptical. His gaze moved from Katsuki’s infuriatingly smug expression to Rosie, who was still trying to compose herself. She had always been shy around Katsuki, but seeing her in such a compromising position made Shoto wonder if there was more going on than just sparring.

Rosie managed to wriggle free from Katsuki’s grip, scooting back with her face buried in her hands, too embarrassed to look at either of them. “I tripped!” she mumbled quickly, her voice barely audible as she hugged her knees. “I just… tripped, and he… he caught me. That’s all.”

Katsuki crossed his arms and gave Shoto a look that said he wasn’t buying Rosie’s excuse either. “She’s a walking disaster. One second, we’re sparring, the next she’s falling all over me,” he said, his voice low with amusement. He leaned back against the tree with his signature smirk still firmly in place, clearly enjoying the effect he had on Rosie.

Shoto wasn’t sure if it was the way Katsuki was standing so casually or the way Rosie was pointedly avoiding looking at him, but something about the situation felt... off. He sighed, not quite ready to dig into whatever this was. “Right. Well, try not to kill each other while we wait for the others.”

Rosie, still hiding her face, peeked through her fingers to shoot Shoto a grateful look, glad for the change in subject. “T-Thank you, Shoto,” she muttered, her voice soft.

Katsuki, however, wasn’t done having fun. He glanced down at Rosie, his grin widening as he leaned slightly closer to her, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You alright there, sweetheart? You look a little… flushed.”

Rosie’s blush deepened—if that was even possible—and she immediately turned her face away from him, determined to look anywhere else. “I’m fine!” she stammered, her voice high-pitched and shaky. She hugged her knees tighter, her mortification growing with every second.

Shoto watched this exchange with an unreadable expression. "Let’s just focus on the mission," he finally said, turning his back to give Rosie some space. “Izuku and Uraraka should be here soon. Try not to cause any more... accidents before then.”

Katsuki chuckled lowly but didn’t say anything else, though the smirk on his face never faltered. Rosie, still avoiding eye contact, nodded quickly, grateful that Shoto hadn’t pressed further.

As Shoto walked a short distance away, he couldn’t help but shake his head at the scene he’d stumbled upon. Something was definitely going on between those two—though whether it was sparring, flirting, or just Katsuki being Katsuki, he wasn’t sure.

One thing was clear, though: Katsuki was enjoying Rosie’s flustered reaction far too much for it to be just a simple accident.

Chapter Text

The group sat in a tight circle under the old oak tree, the bloodstained book lying ominously in the middle. They stared at it in silence, as if the weight of the cursed tome was pressing down on all of them. All except for Katsuki, whose patience had clearly run thin.

“Let’s just burn the damn thing and grab the kids already,” Katsuki growled, his voice sharp with irritation.

Izuku immediately shook his head, leaning forward as he spoke. “If we burn this book now, it might alert the cult. They could panic and hurt the children or, worse...” His voice trailed off, the unspoken possibility hanging heavily in the air.

Uraraka, always the optimist, gave a reassuring smile. “Deku’s right. We have to be careful. We can’t risk the kids.”

Rosie, seated next to Katsuki, hummed thoughtfully. “Sounds like the plan is to get the children out first, then burn the book and the building along with it. Clean sweep.” She glanced around, looking for confirmation from the others.

“We’ve got the keys,” Shoto added calmly, holding up the rusty set he’d stolen from the orphanage earlier. “Once we get in, we can unlock the cells.”

Katsuki crossed his arms, his fingers tapping impatiently against his bicep. “So, what? We play nice while they do whatever sick rituals they’re into?”

Izuku leaned back slightly, looking around at the others. “Kacchan, you and Rosie can go back in. Pretend like you’re still interested in adopting. Meanwhile, the rest of us will sneak in through the back. We’ll start freeing the children, and once we have them all out, we can torch the place.”

Rosie frowned, considering the logistics. “What about the children already under the cult’s control? Some of them have probably been brainwashed. If they alert the cult, it could end in disaster.”

The group went silent, the reality of that possibility sinking in. They couldn’t just ignore the kids who had already fallen under the cult’s sway.

Uraraka, ever the problem solver, perked up. “We’ll just knock them out and drag them out. They’re still children. We can handle them.”

Shoto nodded slowly. “It could work. When I snuck in earlier, most of the children on the second floor were asleep. The ones on the first floor looked like they were fighting to stay awake. The cult might be drugging them.”

Rosie’s fingers drummed lightly on her knee as she thought it over. “It’d be safest to bring some sleeping powder with us. If any of the kids wake up, we can put them back to sleep without a fight.”

“Where do we get sleeping powder?” Uraraka asked, tilting her head thoughtfully.

Rosie smiled, a little mischievously. “I have some. Acquired it in a trade with a wizard a few moons ago. Helped him retrieve a lost grimoire, and he gave me some useful items in return.”

Izuku nodded in approval. “Perfect. Rosie, you’ll give Shoto the sleeping powder. He’ll be in charge of dosing anyone who needs it. Uraraka will stay outside to make sure no one escapes and be ready to burn the book once the children are safe. Kacchan and Rosie will be the distraction inside, while we sneak the children out. Then, once we’re clear, Katsuki will set the place on fire.”

Rosie couldn’t help but smile as she listened to Izuku’s well-thought-out plan. He was always good at thinking things through, covering all the bases. Her gaze drifted to the others, noting how each of them played a vital role. Katsuki, his arms still wrapped protectively around her waist, looked ready to tear the place apart already, but his controlled rage would keep the cult’s attention off the rest of them. Shoto, with his calm, methodical approach, would be the one to actually free the children. Uraraka’s quick thinking and moral compass would ensure no one was left behind, and Izuku… well, he always knew how to lead.

“I’ll be ready,” Rosie said, her voice firm as she met Izuku’s eyes. “We’ll make sure we don’t blow our cover while you guys sneak in. And if anything goes wrong—”

“We handle it,” Katsuki interrupted, his tone brooking no argument.

Izuku nodded, his eyes serious. “Right. If anything goes wrong, we’ll adjust on the fly. But the priority is the kids. We save them, no matter what.”

The group exchanged one last glance, a shared determination settling over them. They all knew what was at stake.

When they got back to the Inn, Rosie handed the pouch of sleeping powder to Shoto, who tucked it safely into his jacket.

Rosie twisted the ring on her finger, the pink diamond catching the last rays of the dying sun. It shimmered like a captured flame—delicate and lovely, a stark contrast to the looming, grim orphanage that rose before her like a decaying monument. The building’s old stone walls were streaked with moss and rot, the windows darkened and barred, casting eerie reflections as if the place itself had eyes.

Shutters on nearby homes were already bolted tight, townsfolk barely peeking through slits, watching them with a mix of curiosity and dread. Whispers of "newlyweds" carried on the wind. The ruse was working. Too well.

Rosie shifted uncomfortably, her fingers fidgeting with the band around her finger.

“You’re gonna wear that damn thing out,” Katsuki muttered from beside her.

She jumped slightly when his hand found the small of her back—solid, grounding, possessive. The heat from his palm bled through her clothes, soothing her nerves like fire melting ice.

His breath brushed the shell of her ear as he leaned in close, the scent of leather, smoke, and him filling her senses. “You don’t like the ring?”

Rosie flushed. “The ring is perfect,” she mumbled, brushing her thumb over the stone. “I’m just... nervous.”

Katsuki tilted his head and stared down at her, golden eyes narrowed but not unkind. “Nervous?” he repeated slowly, then dipped low enough to press a feather-light kiss to her forehead, lips lingering longer than necessary.

She blinked rapidly, her heart skipping a beat. “W-What was that for?” she asked, flustered beyond measure, voice higher than she meant.

Katsuki pulled back slightly, but the hand on her back didn’t budge. He was close enough that she could still feel the brush of his breath on her cheek.

“So you’re not thinking about how nervous you are,” he said with a lazy smirk, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Rosie opened her mouth to argue, but no words came—just a squeak of protest. Her ears twitched uncontrollably, giving her away.

His eyes caught the movement, his grin widening. “Your ears always tell on you, silly elf.”

“I-I’m not silly,” she said, cheeks burning hot.

Katsuki’s other hand came up to tilt her chin toward him, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “No,” he said, voice low and rough, “you’re fuckin’ stunning. All flushed and shy, wearing my ring like it belongs there.”

Rosie’s knees threatened to buckle.

“Y-you’re really leaning into this whole fake marriage thing,” she tried to joke, voice trembling slightly.

Katsuki’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in closer still, voice like gravel and honey. “What if I said I wasn’t faking?” he murmured against her lips. “What if I said I like seeing you in that ring too damn much?”

Her heart was pounding so loud she could barely hear the breeze.

He shifted slightly, hand moving from her lower back to her hip, fingers curling in. “You’re the only person I’d pretend to be married to. Because I’d never let anyone else touch you like this,” he growled softly, thumb brushing over her hip.

Rosie shivered. “Kats...”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, deliberately teasing her. “I’m just helping you get into character, sweetheart.”

“I’m very in character,” she whispered, ears twitching violently.

“Mm.” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his expression darker now, more intense. “Then let’s go finish this job, Mrs. Bakugou.”

Her blush reached critical levels. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he purred, brushing a knuckle along her cheek, “you’re still wearing my ring, silly elf.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, half-laughing, half-melting under his attention.

He chuckled darkly and finally turned toward the orphanage doors. “You can kiss me later if you want to keep up appearances.”

Rosie groaned into her hands, trailing after him. “You’re impossible.”

Katsuki just glanced over his shoulder, his smirk full of heat and mischief. “Yeah, but you love me for it.”

Before she could retort, the heavy wooden doors of the orphanage creaked open, revealing Mistress Elara. She stood tall, draped in dark robes, her presence immediately unsettling. Her pale, sharp face was framed by dark curls, and her smile was tight, almost too perfect.

“Ah, the lovely couple returns,” Mistress Elara greeted, her voice smooth but with an underlying coldness. “I trust your journey back was pleasant?”

Rosie forced a smile, looping her arm through Katsuki’s and leaning into him to sell the act. “Yes, thank you,” she replied, her voice sweet but shaky. “We were just talking about how excited we are to meet the children.”

Mistress Elara’s eyes glinted, as though she were a predator assessing her prey. “Of course,” she said, gesturing for them to enter. “I’m sure you’ll find one that suits your... needs.”

Katsuki’s jaw clenched ever so slightly, but he kept his expression neutral. As they stepped into the orphanage, the air seemed to grow heavier, the shadows in the corners of the hall stretching and twisting unnaturally. Rosie felt a chill run down her spine.

The sound of the door closing behind them echoed ominously, and Rosie swallowed hard. She knew that Izuku and Shoto were sneaking in the back as they spoke, their task to find and free the children locked in the cells. She and Katsuki just had to keep Elara distracted long enough for them to succeed.

“I’ll take you to my office first,” Mistress Elara said, her smile never quite reaching her eyes. “We’ll discuss the adoption process, and I’ll answer any questions you might have.”

Perfect. Rosie thought. The more time they spent in her office, the less likely Mistress Elara would wander the halls and stumble upon Izuku and Shoto.

“Thank you,” Rosie said, her voice steady as she walked beside Katsuki. His hand slid from her lower back to her hip, a gentle but possessive touch that grounded her. She leaned into it, drawing strength from the small, intimate gesture.

Mistress Elara’s office was just as unsettling as the woman herself. The room was dimly lit, with dark wooden furniture that felt far too large for the space. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with old tomes bound in cracked leather, and the air smelled faintly of incense—sickly sweet and cloying.

“Please, have a seat,” Mistress Elara said, her voice smooth and almost hypnotic as she gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “Please, give me a moment to fetch you coffee.”

Once she left the room, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to lift slightly, but Katsuki’s smile vanished instantly. He leaned in close to Rosie, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “I swear, one more minute in this place and I’ll burn it to the ground.”

Rosie grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “You can’t,” she whispered back, glancing at the door to make sure Mistress Elara wasn’t returning. “If we do anything now, the children will be the ones who suffer. We need to stick to the plan. Izuku and Shoto will get them out quietly.”

Katsuki’s eyes flickered with frustration, his hands curling into fists. “I don’t care about that hag. We could take them all out and be done with it.”

“Katsuki,” Rosie said softly, her voice soothing as she took his hand in both of hers. She looked into his eyes, pleading with him. “If you burn this place down now, the children will die, too. We can’t risk that. We’re supposed to be clueless, just another couple looking to adopt. You have to calm down.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw, his muscles taut with barely contained rage. But then Rosie did something she hadn’t expected herself to do—she brought his hand to her face, leaning into it.

His eyes widened slightly, the fury simmering just beneath the surface faltering for a moment as he stared at her. “What was that for?”

Rosie flushed but held his gaze. “To calm you down,” she whispered. “Please... just trust me.”

For a long moment, Katsuki stared at her, the tension in his body slowly easing. He let out a frustrated sigh, but his hand relaxed in hers. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if anything goes wrong, I’m torching her first.”

Rosie nodded, grateful that he was willing to hold back, at least for now. Before either of them could say more, the door creaked open, and Mistress Elara returned, carrying mugs of coffee and an unsettling smile.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” she said, settling behind her desk. “Now, let’s get started.”

Rosie straightened in her chair, trying her best to look like an eager young wife. “We’re just... so excited to give one of these children a loving home,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “And we’ve heard such wonderful things about this orphanage,” she added quickly, hoping to keep Mistress Elara talking.

The woman’s smile grew colder. “Oh, we do take care of our own here. Each child is... special in their own way.”

Rosie shivered at the emphasis on "special," but forced herself to nod. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Shoto worked swiftly, his fingers moving with precise care as he dusted a small amount of sleeping powder onto the children's faces. The fine, shimmering powder settled over their eyelids like a soft blanket, ensuring they would stay deeply asleep through the commotion. He moved from one child to the next, careful not to disturb the fragile peace that now enveloped the room.

Beside him, Izuku was crouched, gently lifting one of the smaller children into his arms. The child’s head lolled softly against his chest, completely unaware of the danger surrounding them. Izuku nodded to Shoto as he hoisted the child up. "That’s the last one from this room," he whispered.

They had already taken out two cult members earlier—an unfortunate pair who had stumbled upon them in the hallway. Shoto had quickly used some of the sleeping powder on them, rendering them unconscious. Izuku, with his usual resourcefulness, had tied them up and locked them into a side room, ensuring they wouldn’t interfere with the rescue mission. Now, all that was left was to get the children out before things went south.

Izuku carefully placed the sleeping child in a row of others they had already rescued. Most of the children were gathered in a small clearing just outside the orphanage, waiting to be escorted to safety by Uraraka. But time was running out.

Shoto glanced over at the door, listening intently for any signs of movement in the halls. The orphanage had fallen eerily silent, and the oppressive atmosphere in the building only made him more anxious. They had gotten most of the children out by now, but he knew the cult wouldn’t stay ignorant of their presence for long.

Izuku returned, his green eyes filled with a quiet urgency. "I took out three more cult members downstairs,” he said in a low voice. “But I think one of them might have triggered a silent alarm.”

Shoto’s brow furrowed. “How do you know?”

Izuku hesitated, listening again for movement. “I heard footsteps—quick ones, heading toward the stairs. It’s like they’re trying to be quiet but they’re coming up to the second floor. They’re getting close.”

Shoto’s eyes flickered with a cold determination as he grabbed the last pouch of sleeping powder from his belt. “We need to move faster,” he said, his voice controlled but urgent. “We’ll use the powder on any remaining cult members, but if they figure out what we’re doing, it’ll turn into a fight.”

Izuku nodded, his face grim. He adjusted the gloves on his hands, readying himself for what was coming. “Let’s hurry then. We don’t have much time.”

Shoto moved to the next group of children, sprinkling the sleeping powder over them. He moved with a practiced efficiency, knowing that even the slightest delay could cost them everything. As he worked, Izuku quietly left the room again, returning with another child, then another, each time carefully carrying them out like they were the most fragile thing in the world.

“We’re almost done,” Shoto whispered, but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps grew louder—closer. Shoto tensed, his senses sharp as he calculated their options. They couldn’t risk being caught now, not with so many children still vulnerable. He gave Izuku a sharp nod.

“Go,” he whispered, gesturing to the remaining children. “Get them out.”

Izuku hesitated, glancing at the door. “What about the cult members?”

“I’ll deal with them,” Shoto said firmly. “Just make sure the children get out safely.”

Izuku’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He quickly gathered up another child, cradling them in his arms as he disappeared down the hall. Shoto could hear his footsteps receding, growing softer as he made his way outside.

Shoto turned his attention back to the door, his heart beating steadily as the footsteps outside the room stopped. The silence was suffocating for a moment. Then, a low creak of the door as it opened slowly, just a crack. Shoto’s breath stilled, his hand already moving toward the last of the sleeping powder in his pouch.

A figure slipped into the room, cloaked in dark robes. The cult member’s eyes scanned the space, missing Shoto in the shadows for a moment too long. Shoto took advantage of the opportunity, releasing the sleeping powder in a swift motion. The cult member let out a muffled gasp, their body sagging to the floor before they could make a sound.

One down.

Shoto quickly dragged the unconscious body out of sight before returning to the remaining children. He glanced around, counting heads. All but one had been evacuated. Izuku should be back soon.

The footsteps started again, more of them this time. Shoto tensed, knowing there were more coming. But he couldn’t leave just yet—he had to make sure the last child was safe. As the footsteps neared, he grabbed the last child, cradling them in his arms.

Just as he reached the door, Izuku appeared. His face was tight with worry, but there was relief in his eyes when he saw Shoto with the final child. "We need to go, now."

Shoto nodded, handing the child over to Izuku. "Go. I’ll cover the rear."

Without another word, Izuku sprinted down the hall with the child, leaving Shoto to face the incoming threat alone. He heard the cult members finally reach the top of the stairs, their hurried whispers growing louder.

Shoto stood in the shadow of the doorway, his fingers already coated with ice. He would buy them time.

Chapter Text

Rosie felt her vision blur as she swayed in her chair, the mug of coffee slipping from her fingers and crashing to the floor. She blinked rapidly, trying to shake the haze clouding her mind, but her limbs felt heavy, as if weighed down by an invisible force. Katsuki had left with the Mistress Elara, who was leading him to the bathroom, telling him there had been some disturbance upstairs that she needed to go check on.

She knew that he was going to go check on the status of Izuku and Shoto.

The unsettling quietness of the room made Rosie feel even more uneasy. Her heart raced as she tried to force herself to stay alert. She blinked again and saw a figure moving toward her—a cloaked woman with a sinister smile curling her lips. Rosie tensed, her instincts telling her something was wrong.

"You really thought you could just waltz in here unnoticed?" The woman’s voice was laced with a dark chuckle as she approached. Her eyes glowed with malice. "Foolish girl... You and your husband are going to make a fine sacrifice for our master."

Rosie’s heart hammered in her chest as the woman reached her, pulling a length of rope from her robes and looping it around Rosie’s wrists. The dizziness was making it hard to focus, and the more Rosie tried to resist, the weaker she felt.

But she wasn’t about to give in.

Not yet.

Summoning her remaining strength, Rosie yanked the hidden dagger she had concealed beneath her skirts. In one swift motion, she slashed the blade across the cult member’s chest, cutting through the dark robes. Black, viscous blood oozed from the wound, and the woman let out a furious hiss, her eyes widening in shock.

"You’ll regret that!" the cultist snarled before lunging at Rosie, knocking her to the ground with a forceful tackle. Rosie’s back hit the hard wooden floor with a thud, knocking the wind from her lungs. The woman’s hands were around her throat in an instant, squeezing tight, cutting off her air.

Rosie struggled beneath her, her vision darkening as the cultist’s grip tightened. She clawed at the woman’s hands, gasping for breath, but the pressure was relentless. The world began to spin, her limbs growing weaker with each second.

Suddenly, the pressure vanished.

Rosie gasped for air, her throat burning as the weight of the cultist was ripped away from her. Her blurry gaze focused just in time to see Katsuki, his expression murderous, gripping the woman by the back of her neck. With a low growl, he hurled the cult member across the room. She slammed into the wall with a sickening crack, her head hitting the stone. Black blood dripped from the back of her skull, pooling on the floor as her body went limp, unconscious.

Katsuki’s crimson eyes darted to Rosie, his face twisted in a mixture of anger and concern. “You okay?”

Rosie, still catching her breath, nodded weakly as she pushed herself up on shaky arms. "I-I’m fine... I had her..." she muttered, though her voice betrayed her exhaustion.

Katsuki knelt beside her, his touch surprisingly gentle as he helped her sit up, his hands moving carefully over her shoulders. "You call that having her?" he grumbled, though his voice softened. He scooped her up in his arms, cradling her close to his chest.

Rosie let out a breathless laugh, trying to play off her embarrassment, but the feeling of Katsuki holding her like that made her cheeks burn. “I didn’t exactly plan on getting choked today, you know?”

He huffed, smirking down at her as he stood with her in his arms. "Next time, don’t drop your guard. You’re better than that."

Rosie’s blush deepened, but she nodded, her fingers tightening around his shoulder as she felt the warmth of his body against hers. "Yeah… I’ll try not to."

Katsuki’s smirk faded into something more serious, though his grip on her remained firm but protective. He glanced at the unconscious cultist, black blood still oozing from the woman’s wounds. “We need to hurry up and finish this. I’m not losing you here.”

Rosie looked up at him, her breath still shaky, but she gave him a small, grateful smile. "You won’t," she whispered. "I promise."

Katsuki stared at Rosie for several long moments, his eyes lingering on her pale face as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Despite her attempts to sound coherent, her words slurred, and her movements were sluggish. He could feel her body trembling in his arms, though she was trying her best to act tough.

“All the kids are out," he said gruffly, adjusting her slightly in his arms. "Half and Half is outside with Uraraka. Deku got hurt, but he’s fine. He’s out there with the rest of the kids."

“I can walk,” Rosie mumbled, though her legs gave a small twitch that told him otherwise.

He scoffed. “Told you not to drink the damn coffee. I could smell the poison.”

“How... how could you smell it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Katsuki stiffened slightly, his expression darkening. “Any human could smell it,” he muttered, avoiding her questioning gaze.

As they stepped out of the room, a sudden whoosh of heat passed by, and a fireball narrowly missed Rosie’s head. Katsuki snarled, spinning on his heel just in time to see Mistress Elara, blood seeping from her abdomen, limping towards them. Her face was twisted in a murderous rage.

"Damn woman," Katsuki growled. "I thought I killed her already."

Rosie’s eyes widened as she tried to shift out of Katsuki’s hold. “Put me down, I’ll be fine—just get out of here,” she urged, her voice weak but insistent.

“Stop being stupid,” he snapped, gripping her tighter as another fireball blasted the wall beside them. “Just let me protect you.”

The ground beneath them trembled, the whole building shaking violently. Dust fell from the ceiling, and Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Uraraka must’ve burned the book,” he muttered, realizing the tremor was a result of the enchantment breaking.

Mistress Elara’s fury intensified as she raised her hands, black flames swirling around her fingers. “You think you can destroy what we’ve built here?” she screeched. “You will all die for this!”

Katsuki cursed under his breath. He couldn’t fight her with Rosie in his arms, and she was too out of it to protect herself. He looked down at Rosie, her eyes half-lidded and her breathing labored. She was barely conscious, still trying to resist.

“Leave me,” Rosie whispered, her voice strained. “I can make it out on my own.”

Katsuki glared at her. “Stop being stupid. You can barely keep your eyes open.”

Before Rosie could argue, Shoto appeared in the doorway, his expression calm but focused. Katsuki’s jaw clenched as he begrudgingly passed Rosie into Shoto’s waiting arms. “Take her,” he ordered. “Make sure she gets out safe.”

Shoto nodded, his grip on Rosie gentle but secure as he held her close. "Understood," he said quietly, turning to leave the room.

Rosie, still groggy but aware enough to protest, reached out weakly. “We... we can’t leave him,” she murmured, her heart aching as she saw the determination in Katsuki’s eyes.

Shoto shook his head as he began to carry her toward the exit. “Bakugou is more than capable of taking care of himself, trust me.”

As Shoto ran down the hallway with her, Rosie’s head lolled against his shoulder. She glanced back, her vision hazy, but she could still make out Katsuki’s figure as he crouched low, his eyes glowing a bright, dangerous red. The air around him crackled with energy, small explosions forming in his hands as he faced Mistress Elara.

The last thing Rosie saw before her vision blurred completely was Katsuki, his smirk dark and confident as he faced the cult leader head-on. The roar of an explosion echoed in the distance as Shoto carried her outside, her mind spinning with worry and exhaustion.

"Don’t worry about him," Shoto reassured her as he continued to run. "Bakugou doesn’t lose. He’ll be fine."

Rosie’s heart pounded in her chest as they finally burst out of the orphanage and into the open air. The heat from the fire behind them radiated against her back, the entire building consumed in roaring flames. Voices echoed around her, the worried murmurs of townsfolk and the cries of children. She struggled to stay conscious, her body drenched in sweat, though she couldn't tell if it was from the blazing fire or the poison slowly working its way through her veins.

Twenty children lay unconscious on the ground, their small forms scattered in the grass. Uraraka stood nearby, her hands cupped around a pile of ashes, her face grim. Izuku was beside her, clutching his side, his shirt soaked in blood, the fabric stained with a sickly green hue. Despite his injuries, his gaze was alert, scanning the area for any threats.

Rosie blinked, her vision blurred, but she forced herself to focus. Through the haze of heat and exhaustion, she saw a figure emerge from the flames.

Katsuki.

He walked out of the burning building as though it were nothing, his eyes glowing an eerie red. There was a dangerous smirk on his face, and the sharp tips of his fangs protruded over his lip, giving him a primal, almost predatory look. But it was the large red horn that jutted from his head that sent a jolt of shock through Rosie.

It wasn’t there before.

His shirt was gone, completely burned away, revealing the rippling muscles of his chest. His pants were singed and torn, but what caught her attention were the tattoos that covered the left side of his body. Black, intricate tribal markings ran down from his chest, curling around his arm and disappearing under the waistband of his pants. The designs looked familiar, but her foggy mind couldn’t place where she’d seen them before.

“Kats...” Rosie slurred, her hand reaching out weakly, yearning to touch him, to confirm he was real. Her vision swam, and everything around her felt surreal. She had so many questions—about the horn, the tattoos, the glow in his eyes—but the poison was dragging her down, pulling her toward unconsciousness.

Katsuki’s glowing red eyes flickered to her, and for a brief moment, the cocky smirk softened into something almost tender. He took a step forward, but before he could reach her, her body gave out. Her arm fell limply to her side, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the darkness, the last thing she saw was his fiery figure against the backdrop of the burning orphanage.

His voice echoed faintly in her mind, the familiar growl soothing her even as consciousness slipped away. "I’ve got you."

Rosie woke up to the gentle light filtering through the curtains of her room at the inn. Her throat was dry, and every muscle in her body felt heavy with fatigue. Immediately, she reached for the glass of water sitting on the small table beside the bed, drinking it in deep, desperate gulps. As she set the glass down, her skin prickled with discomfort. She could feel the layer of sweat and grime that clung to her from the fire. The smell of smoke still lingered on her clothes, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Gingerly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, but they felt weak, barely able to support her. She used the walls for balance as she made her way to the bathroom, where she took a long, much-needed shower. The hot water washed away the remnants of smoke, dirt, and poison, leaving her feeling slightly more human.

Afterward, she dressed in her usual outfit: fitted pants, a white shirt with billowy sleeves, and a leather corset that cinched around her waist. As she zipped up her boots, she noticed the gleam of silver on her finger—the fake wedding ring that Katsuki had given her for their mission. She stared at it for a long moment, her brow furrowing.

She’d need to return it to him.

But as her hand reached for the door, she faltered, memories from the night before flooding her mind. The image of Katsuki walking out of the flames had seared itself into her memory—his eyes glowing red, a horn protruding from his forehead, and tribal tattoos crawling across his skin like living shadows. Tattoos that she could swear she had seen somewhere before.

It had to be the poison. It had messed with her mind, made her hallucinate. Right?

But something gnawed at the back of her mind. She didn’t know much about Katsuki’s past. They had traveled together for a while, but he rarely spoke about where he came from, or what he was. The only thing she knew for certain was that he, Izuku, and Shoto had known each other since they were young.

Beyond that?

Nothing.

He wasn’t fully human. That much was clear. But maybe it was something he didn’t want to talk about, and perhaps it wasn’t her place to ask.

Deciding to leave it alone for now, she took a deep breath and headed downstairs to the tavern.

The smell of food hit her the moment she entered, and her stomach growled in response. Her eyes scanned the room, quickly spotting Katsuki, Izuku, Shoto, and Uraraka sitting at a corner booth, eating and drinking. They seemed to be in deep conversation, but Katsuki’s eyes flicked up the moment she walked in.

Rosie hesitated for a moment before making her way over and sliding into the seat beside Katsuki. To her surprise, there was a plate of food already waiting for her—scrambled eggs, bread, and fruit. Simple, but it was exactly what she needed.

“You... ordered for me?” Rosie asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise as she looked at him.

Katsuki shrugged, keeping his eyes on his food. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

“How did you know I was awake?”

He shot her a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. “I just knew.”

Rosie’s gaze flickered to Izuku and Shoto, who exchanged a brief, knowing look. Something unspoken passed between them, and Rosie’s suspicion deepened. They were hiding something—something about Katsuki. She could feel it in the air.

But instead of pressing the issue, she simply nodded and began to eat. The food was warm and comforting, and as she slowly regained her strength, the others filled her in on what had happened while she was unconscious.

“We managed to get all the kids out,” Shoto explained. “The townspeople were really grateful. Turns out, a lot of adventurers had tried and failed to take down the cult. Some were too scared to even attempt it.”

“They paid for our rooms and meals on top of giving us our reward,” Izuku added. He was still nursing his side, but his usual optimistic smile was in place. “And Enchantress Midnight, Momo, and a few other apprentices came to check on the children.”

Uraraka leaned in with a bright smile. “They managed to break the enchantments on most of the younger ones. They’ve already found homes for them in nearby cities. The older children, though... their enchantments are more complex.”

Shoto nodded. “Midnight is taking those few in as apprentices. She said it’ll take time to fully break the magic, but once they’re free, they’ll be given a chance to learn magic properly.”

“That’s great news,” Rosie murmured, relief flooding through her. At least the children would be safe.

“And the book?” she asked.

“I scattered its ashes in a nearby river,” Uraraka said, her voice soft but resolute. “No one will be able to piece it back together.”

“The town decided not to rebuild the orphanage where it stood,” Izuku continued. “They’ll find another location and start fresh. Somewhere without the... bad memories and lingering magic.”

Rosie nodded, her gaze drifting toward the window, where the faint outline of the burned orphanage could still be seen in the distance. The building was gone, reduced to ash, but the scars it had left behind—the lives it had torn apart—would take time to heal.

Her thoughts wandered back to Katsuki, sitting quietly beside her. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, catching the way his fingers absently drummed on the table. The memory of the fire, of his glowing eyes and the horn, tugged at her mind again.

But she pushed it aside, deciding—for now—to leave the questions unasked.

Rosie paused mid-bite, blinking as she looked up at the group seated around the table. “So, what’s our next plan?” she asked, her voice casual as she glanced between them.

The trio exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them before Izuku spoke up. “We figured you’d decide what’s next.”

Rosie frowned slightly, confused. “Why me?”

Uraraka gave her a warm smile. “Because you’re the leader.”

“Me?” Rosie leaned back in her chair, clearly taken aback. “Leader?”

Shoto nodded firmly. “You’re the one who formed this party. It only makes sense that you lead us.”

Rosie blinked, processing the statement. She hadn’t really thought of herself as the leader, just the one who brought everyone together. But as she looked around at the faces of her companions—each of them waiting for her direction—it began to make sense.

She let out a small breath, shrugging slightly. “Alright then,” she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “After we’re done here, we’ll head to the guild and pick up a new mission.”

The three of them nodded in agreement, clearly trusting her decision. Rosie realized then that they had been doing this all along—following her lead without question.

It felt... right.

“You were poisoned, you still need rest.” Katsuki argued

Rosie crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, giving Katsuki a defiant look. "I drank it because we needed to buy time," she shot back. "And it worked, didn't it? Shoto and Izuku got the kids out safely because of it, you were able to check on them and she left with you.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his jaw set. "You were reckless. You’re lucky the poison didn’t kill you outright. You should’ve listened to me." His voice was low but tense, clearly not backing down from the argument.

Rosie’s frown deepened, her tone firm. "I did what I had to. She was starting to get suspicious, Katsuki. I didn’t have a choice."

Katsuki’s eyes glinted with frustration. "There's always a choice, and that wasn’t it. You shouldn’t have risked your life like that."

Across the table, Shoto, Uraraka, and Izuku watched the exchange like spectators at an arena match, wide-eyed and leaning in as if they didn’t want to miss a single word.

Shoto leaned over to whisper to Uraraka and Izuku. "Uh-oh, Mom and Dad are fighting."

Uraraka gasped softly, covering her mouth with a hand. "Is this their first one?" she whispered back, her eyes darting between the two arguing.

Izuku chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "I think so… though I’m not sure it’s gonna end well for Dad," he said, eyeing Katsuki, who seemed seconds away from bursting.

Katsuki, hearing their side commentary, shot them a glare. "You three shut it, or I’ll make sure none of you eat tonight."

Rosie’s frown softened, but she was still firm. "I told you—I’m fine now. I rested, I ate. I can handle the next mission."

"You’re not going to the guild today," Katsuki said, his tone final. "You just got out of bed after being poisoned. Rest another day."

Rosie opened her mouth to protest again, but Katsuki cut her off. "No. Rest."

Uraraka giggled behind her hand. "Oooh, Dad’s in trouble now."

Shoto nodded sagely, whispering, "Looks like Dad’s gonna have to fend for himself for dinner tonight."

Izuku snorted a laugh, trying to stay quiet.

Rosie pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "Katsuki, stop acting like I’m helpless. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

"You almost got yourself killed," Katsuki argued, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if to anchor himself. "We’re supposed to be partners, so stop being reckless and take care of yourself. If you die, then what?"

Silence fell over the table. Rosie blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. She hadn’t expected him to say that.

The three spectators across the table fell completely still, their playful banter evaporating as they exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Rosie softened slightly, her voice quieter now. "Katsuki… I know you’re worried, but I am truly fine. I am an elf, we don’t require such things.”

Katsuki’s hands unclenched, and he let out a slow breath. "I get that. But you’re no use to anyone if you push yourself too hard and end up dead." His voice dropped to a near growl. "And I’m not losing you because you’re too damn stubborn to listen."

Rosie’s resolve wavered. She didn’t want to admit it, but he had a point. She had been reckless, but she knew that she would have been fine. Elves had a better immunity to such things.

“I will agree for your sake, but we leave town today to the next large city which is a half day's ride. We will stay at an Inn and visit the guild tomorrow. “

Katsuki nodded, satisfied, though he still looked a little tense. "Fine, but if I see any sign of you being tired then we stop immediately and make camp."

“If it makes you feel better.”

From across the table, Shoto raised an eyebrow at Uraraka and Izuku. "Guess Dad survives this round."

Uraraka smiled, whispering, "Barely."

Izuku leaned forward, looking amused. "Think Dad's sleeping on the floor tonight?"

Shoto smirked. "Nah, he’ll smooth it over by tomorrow. He always does."

Rosie, hearing their teasing commentary, shot a mock glare at them. “You three are real helpful, you know that?”

“I’m going to murder all of you,” Katsuki snapped, his eyes narrowing.

Rosie couldn’t help but laugh, but then something clicked, and her expression shifted into one of confusion. “Wait... why are we Mom and Dad?”

Uraraka giggled, leaning her chin on her hand. “Because you two are the oldest. Plus, you kind of act like parents, always keeping us in line.”

“And—" Izuku added with a blush creeping up his face, “Todoroki told us he caught you two... doing... um, s-s-stuff.”

Rosie stiffened, her face instantly turning crimson as her ears twitched uncontrollably. “Stuff?!” she exclaimed, her voice a little too high-pitched.

Katsuki’s smirk deepened, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction, before he frowned, clearly offended. “Wait a damn minute—what the hell makes you think I would be sleeping on the floor?”

Shoto blinked, setting his pint of ale down with his usual calm. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Without missing a beat, Katsuki grabbed Rosie’s wrist and flipped her hand palm-up, showing the ring on her finger with a smug grin. “See this?” he pointed at the silver band. “Makes her my wife, and I’ll be damned if she goes to bed angry with me.”

Rosie turned an even deeper shade of red, wishing she could disappear as Katsuki’s declaration sent her heart racing. Why is he like this? she thought, torn between embarrassment and... well, maybe something else.

Izuku’s face was practically glowing red as he tried to process Katsuki’s blunt words. Uraraka couldn’t stop giggling, while Shoto just stared at the ring like he was analyzing a puzzle.

Shoto looked up, his expression deadpan. “Your marriage isn’t real.”

Katsuki glared. “What’d you just say, Icy Hot?”

Shoto didn’t flinch, sipping from his ale again, calm as ever. “Plus, what if I want to marry her?”

The entire table went silent. Rosie’s breath hitched, and even Katsuki paused mid-smirk, his eyes flicking between her and Shoto.

“Excuse me?” Katsuki finally muttered, standing up with a scowl. He grabbed Shoto by the collar and shook him violently. “What the hell makes you think I’d let some Icy Hot bastard marry her, huh?!”

Shoto didn’t even react to Katsuki's grip, just blinked calmly as his body was shaken back and forth. “You sound more like her father than her husband right now,” he said matter-of-factly.

The words hung in the air, and Katsuki’s face went from red with fury to utterly stunned. “What—"

Shoto kept his deadpan expression as Katsuki continued to shake him. “Fathers shake their sons like this? Not a good look for a husband.”

“I—!” Katsuki stopped shaking, glaring down at Shoto in utter disbelief. “Why are you always so damn calm!?”

“Years of practice,” Shoto replied dryly.

Rosie, now fully recovered from her embarrassment, burst out laughing, hiding her face in her hands. Izuku and Uraraka both erupted into fits of giggles as well, unable to contain themselves.

“I swear, you’re gonna give me gray hairs,” Katsuki muttered, letting go of Shoto’s collar, though his eyes still burned with annoyance.

Uraraka, wiping tears from her eyes, raised her mug with a grin. “Here’s to Kacchan surviving another argument!”

“More like surviving his jealousy,” Izuku mumbled, raising his own mug.

Rosie shook her head, still chuckling. Despite the teasing and the bickering, there was a warmth to it all—a sense of family that made her heart feel full. Even if Katsuki was overprotective and a little too intense sometimes, it was clear he cared. And maybe, just maybe, that made it all worth it.

Chapter Text

Hidden high among the branches of an ancient oak, the group huddled close, the massive hellhound prowling somewhere below them. Its red eyes glowed like embers in the darkness of the forest, and its low growls sent shivers up their spines. Katsuki peered down at the ground, hands clenched into fists, ready to act, while the others caught their breath after their mad dash.

“This lady is batshit crazy,” Katsuki hissed, glaring in the general direction of where the hellhound had disappeared.

Rosie sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her pointed ear. “She isn’t. Hellhounds don’t seem to be uncommon companions for nobles.”

“I dunno…” Uraraka panted, her face flushed from exertion. “It’s the first I have seen of it.”

“My kind ride hippogriffs and elks instead of horses,” Rosie explained, “and we use cats as guards and keep Fenrirs as pets. In other realms, they have arctic foxes and phoenixes as pets.”

Izuku’s eyes widened with excitement. “So the myths are true!?”

Rosie nodded, but there was no time for that conversation now. They had taken a quest to retrieve the hellhound after it had run off during a family gathering. The noblewoman, distraught, had enlisted their help when her “child” didn’t return after several days. The beast had since been terrorizing nearby farms, and they had spent the morning following a bloody trail that led them deep into the woods. They found it by a riverbank, sleeping soundly, but the moment Shoto tried to get close enough to use the sleeping powder, the creature had woken up and given chase.

Now, hidden in the treetops, they were trying to regroup.

“That beast is massive,” Shoto remarked quietly, his usual calm demeanor undisturbed despite the recent chaos. “Its breath smells like a furnace with a hint of sheep stomach.”

Katsuki grunted. “Talk about that later, Icy Hot. Ranger,” he looked over at Uraraka, “can’t you talk to the beast?”

“I can try, but it feels threatened right now. It won’t listen,” Uraraka said, catching her breath. “We need to calm it down first so I can communicate with it.”

“Maybe feeding it would help,” Izuku suggested, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Like an offering.”

Katsuki grinned, clearly liking that idea. “I’ll kill something big. A stag should do it.”

Rosie nodded, thinking it through. “It’s risky, but if we can offer the hellhound a meal, it might be more willing to listen. Katsuki, find the stag. Uraraka, track the beast. I’ll stay here and work on a salve for its paw. I noticed it was limping from the freeze burn.”

Katsuki was already grinning, eager for action. “Easy enough.” With that, he dropped silently from the tree and disappeared into the underbrush.

A little while later, Katsuki returned, carrying the large carcass of a freshly killed stag over his shoulder. Blood dripped from the stag’s body, leaving a trail behind them as they made their way deeper into the forest.

Uraraka, using her ranger skills, had already tracked the hellhound to a clearing. The massive beast was sitting, licking its paw, growling softly at the pain from the ice burn it had received earlier from Shoto’s attack. The hellhound’s fiery eyes glared at them as they approached.

Katsuki threw the stag’s carcass toward the hellhound with a grunt. “Here, mutt. Eat this.”

The hellhound stopped licking its paw and sniffed the air, eyeing the offering warily. Its eyes flicked toward Uraraka, who stepped forward with her palms raised, speaking softly to the beast in a soothing tone. “We mean no harm. We’re here to take you home.”

The hellhound growled but slowly approached the stag, its massive jaws tearing into the carcass hungrily. As it ate, its body language relaxed, and Uraraka continued to speak to it. After a few moments, she knelt down, her eyes soft and reassuring as she made a connection with the creature.

Rosie knelt beside Uraraka, holding up a small jar of the salve she had prepared. “Tell it I can help heal its paw,” she said softly.

Uraraka nodded and whispered to the hellhound, who paused from its meal, lifting its injured paw toward Rosie.

Rosie’s heart skipped a beat. Carefully, she approached the beast, speaking in a soft, melodic voice in Elvish. She reached for the injured paw, her hands trembling slightly as she opened the jar of salve and applied it gently to the burn. The hellhound let out a low growl but didn’t pull away, as Rosie’s fingers moved with practiced care.

The salve worked quickly, soothing the angry burn, and Rosie continued her whispered Elvish chant, the ancient language of healing weaving through the air. The hellhound’s growling stopped, and its red eyes softened as the pain faded.

“There you go,” Rosie said, smiling at the creature as she finished. She stepped back slowly, giving it space.

The hellhound huffed, now calmer, licking its paw and lying down by the stag. Uraraka, still kneeling, smiled at Rosie. “That was amazing.”

Katsuki snorted, arms crossed. “Told you we just had to feed the damn thing.”

Rosie shook her head with a chuckle, “Not just feeding. You have to treat the whole creature—mind, body, and spirit.”

Shoto, watching from a distance, smiled faintly. “It seems we have ourselves a new friend.”

Rosie glanced at the massive beast, feeling a strange connection with it now. “Let’s hope it agrees to return to its owner peacefully.”

They all stood, watching the hellhound finish its meal.

The group approached the grand manor, the enormous, sprawling estate surrounded by lush, well-manicured gardens and tall, wrought-iron gates. The noblewoman, Lady Selene, stood eagerly at the top of the marble steps, her opulent gown trailing behind her. Her face lit up the moment she saw the hellhound, Blaze, bounding toward her like an overgrown puppy.

"Blazie!" she squealed, throwing her arms out wide.

The hellhound, all five feet of muscle, fur, and fiery eyes, was practically prancing in joy as it raced around her. It leaped into the air, jumping up and down with excitement before tackling Lady Selene to the ground, licking her face with its long, slobbery tongue.

“Oh, Blaze, darling!” Lady Selene laughed uncontrollably, trying to push the giant beast off her, though it was clear she was just as thrilled to see her beloved hellhound. “You silly thing! Did you miss me?”

Katsuki crossed his arms, watching the reunion with a raised brow, grumbling under his breath, “Batshit crazy…”

Rosie nudged him with her elbow, giving him a look. “Let them have their moment.”

Blaze continued to cover Lady Selene in wet, slobbery kisses, his tail wagging furiously. She finally managed to sit up, though the hellhound stayed in her lap, much like an oversized puppy.

“Oh my stars,” Lady Selene said, catching her breath. “Thank you all so much for bringing my precious Blaze back to me.”

Uraraka stepped forward, smiling. “We’re just glad we could help. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Lady Selene sighed, patting Blaze affectionately on his massive head. “The poor dear. He’s terrified of fireworks. My nephew—bless his heart—set one off during the family gathering, and Blaze ran off into the woods before anyone could stop him.”

“Fireworks?” Rosie echoed with a curious tilt of her head. “I thought hellhounds liked fire.”

“Oh, most do,” Lady Selene said with a chuckle. “But Blaze is a bit more sensitive than most. He’s always been my little softie.”

Uraraka smiled, glancing at Blaze who had now sprawled out across the steps, content as Lady Selene scratched his ears. “How did you come across Blaze? I’ve never heard of anyone keeping a hellhound as a pet before.”

Lady Selene’s face softened with fondness, her eyes distant as she recalled the memory. “It was a gift from my husband, actually. He gave Blaze to me when we were teenagers, during our courtship. He was about to leave for his apprenticeship, and before he left, he promised he’d come back and marry me.”

Rosie and Uraraka exchanged looks of adoration, their eyes practically sparkling as they both let out a synchronized, “Aww.”

Lady Selene smiled warmly at their reaction, her fingers stroking Blaze’s fur as she continued. “He knew I loved animals, and when he found this little cub—a runt, no less—he thought it’d be the perfect gift. I raised Blaze myself, trained him, and he’s been by my side ever since. He only listens to me… and sometimes my husband, when he’s not being stubborn.”

Rosie clasped her hands together, her heart swelling at the story. “That’s so sweet! And he really did come back to marry you?”

Lady Selene nodded, her eyes twinkling. “He did. Six months after completing his apprenticeship, he returned. I still have the letter he sent me, promising that one day we’d be together. Blaze was there at our wedding too, of course.”

Rosie and Uraraka sighed dreamily, clearly moved by the tale. “That’s such a beautiful love story,” Uraraka said softly.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, letting out a grunt as he crossed his arms even tighter. “Great. A hellhound love story. Just what I wanted to hear.”

Rosie shot him a playful glare. “Oh, come on, Katsuki. It’s adorable.”

He huffed, looking away. “Whatever.”

Shoto, leaning casually against one of the pillars, smirked. “Sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Izuku, who had been quietly listening, spoke up, his face flushed. “I think it’s kinda cool… that Blaze has been with her all these years.”

Lady Selene chuckled at their reactions. “You adventurers really are something. Now, as for your reward,” she stood up gracefully, Blaze sitting obediently beside her, “I’ve prepared a generous payment for your services. But if I’m being honest, having my dear Blaze back is more than enough for me.”

Blaze let out a contented huff, resting his large head on Lady Selene’s knee as she stroked his ears. The scene was oddly serene, especially given the wild chase they had just endured through the woods.

Katsuki, though still grumbling, couldn’t help but glance at Rosie, noticing the way her eyes softened at the sight of the hellhound reunited with its owner. He liked the way she looked at these moments.

But he’d never admit it.

“Well,” Rosie said, turning back to the group with a smile, “looks like we’ve made a new friend.”

Katsuki snorted. “Great. Another oversized dog.”

After their massages, Rosie and Uraraka made their way down the quiet hallway of the Smiling Mushroom Inn, still basking in the lingering relaxation from the hot springs and soothing treatments. The scent of lavender oils and warm steam clung to the air as they walked, Uraraka practically glowing from the experience.

“That was amazing,” Uraraka sighed happily, stretching her arms above her head. “I feel like a new person! You?”

Rosie smiled, her skin feeling fresh and her muscles finally relaxed after days of adventure. “Yeah, I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

As they neared their rooms, Uraraka glanced at Rosie’s hand and the glint of the ring still on her finger caught her eye. She hesitated for a moment before speaking up. “Hey, so… why are you still wearing that ring Katsuki gave you? I mean, you’re not actually married.”

Rosie looked down at the ring, brushing her thumb over the band thoughtfully. “Well, he insisted I keep it. Said it was a gift and that he bought it with me in mind.”

Uraraka’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t hide her grin. “That’s so romantic! I mean, come on, Rosie, that’s a big deal! He bought it with you in mind? That has to mean something.”

Rosie scoffed lightly, though her cheeks turned a bit pink. “It’s not like that. We’re just partners. Best friends, really. Besides, he’s always doing stuff like that. He’s… protective.”

“Protective and thoughtful,” Uraraka teased, poking Rosie’s arm. “I think he’s a little more than just a partner.”

Rosie rolled her eyes, pushing open the door to their room. “We’re not like that. Trust me. He’d probably rather fight a dragon than deal with anything romantic.”

“Well,” Uraraka said with a giggle, “I still think it’s sweet. I wish I had someone who would do things like that for me.”

Rosie gave her friend a soft smile. “You will. Just wait.”

Later, the two met up with Izuku at the bustling market square, with stalls lined up selling a variety of goods, from shimmering silks to exotic spices. The air was thick with the chatter of people and the sounds of merchants calling out their wares. Shoto and Momo were already there, standing near a fruit vendor, and Rosie waved as they approached.

Momo smiled warmly when she saw Rosie. “You’re looking much better, Rosie. I’m glad the poison is out of your system.”

Rosie nodded, her hand brushing her stomach where she’d felt the effects of the poison not too long ago. “I’m just glad you were able to help me. Thank you again.”

Momo waved her off with a humble smile. “It was the right thing to do. I’m happy I could assist.”

Shoto turned to Rosie, his expression calm as always. “Momo’s expressed interest in joining our party.”

Rosie’s face lit up in excitement. “Of course! We’d be glad to have you, Momo.”

Momo smiled, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you. I look forward to our future adventures.”

As the group chatted, they wandered over to a nearby equipment shop, its towering structure filled with an impressive array of weapons, armor, and tools. The shopkeeper was a lively woman with pink goggles atop her head, her shortpink hair pulled back into a messy bun. She had a manic energy that buzzed through the air as she flitted about, examining various inventions laid out on display.

Izuku, always fascinated by new gear, was drawn to a collection of gadgets near the counter. The shopkeeper, who introduced herself as Mei Hatsume, noticed his interest immediately and practically leaped toward him with enthusiasm.

“Oh! You like that, huh? It’s one of my newer models,” Mei said, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned in close to Izuku. “You have a great eye! I could totally see you using this in the field—here, let me show you the features!”

Izuku, already flustered by her proximity, stammered. “Oh, uh, it looks really cool! I just… I was wondering how it works…”

Mei beamed and leaned even closer, practically pressing up against him. “Oh, you’re going to love it. It’s got a state-of-the-art propulsion system, and it’s designed to withstand extreme conditions! You’ve gotta try it out sometime—maybe I could show you in the back?”

Rosie and Momo exchanged amused glances, while Uraraka’s smile slowly faded, her eyes narrowing at the scene. She crossed her arms, her lips pressed into a tight line. “Heh, sounds like a lot of effort for a gadget…”

Rosie leaned over and whispered to Momo, “Looks like Uraraka isn’t too happy with Mei’s enthusiasm.”

Momo smirked. “Can’t say I blame her. Mei can be… intense.”

Shoto, meanwhile, was casually examining a row of daggers on the opposite side of the shop, completely oblivious to the interaction, though he couldn’t help but notice Uraraka’s irritation when he glanced back. “Looks like Deku’s in for some trouble later.”

Izuku, still awkwardly listening to Mei’s rapid-fire explanations of the various gadgets, seemed oblivious to Uraraka’s growing annoyance until she cleared her throat pointedly.

“Uh, Mei,” Izuku stammered, noticing the tension in the air. “I really appreciate the info, but we’ve gotta get going soon…”

Mei didn’t seem to notice the shift in his tone and continued her enthusiastic pitch, but Izuku shot an apologetic look at Uraraka, who just huffed and turned away, muttering something under her breath.

Rosie chuckled softly as they watched the scene unfold. “Looks like someone’s a little jealous.”

Momo nodded, a knowing smile on her face. “Indeed.”

“Uraraka, lets look at some daggers for you so I can have mine back.” Rosie coaxed her towards the daggers that Shoto was looking at.

Uraraka blushed, “you’re right. I still have your dagger.”

As the group exited the equipment shop, Uraraka’s new daggers tucked safely in their sheaths, Rosie noticed the tension between Izuku and Uraraka. Izuku trailed behind, attempting to speak with her, but each of Uraraka’s responses was short, curt, and dismissive. Rosie, catching the awkwardness, bit back a smile. Finally, Uraraka turned sharply, her patience clearly wearing thin.

“Rosie, I need to buy some more clothes. You and Momo can come if you want,” she said, her voice brisk.

Rosie, sensing her friend's frustration, offered a kind smile. “I saw a shop earlier that might be perfect.”

“I’d love to join,” Momo added, always polite. “I don’t have many outfits other than my robes.”

With a nod of agreement, Uraraka linked arms with Momo, pulling her toward the direction Rosie had indicated. Rosie turned back to the boys. “We’ll meet you at the tavern for dinner.”

Izuku waved nervously while Shoto simply raised his hand in a brief goodbye before the girls disappeared into the lively streets of La’maeria.

The shop Rosie had spotted earlier was nestled between two larger merchant stalls, its sign hanging overhead in elegant script: Fabrics of Faeyara. The large windows displayed stunning gowns and enchanted accessories. It was the kind of place that immediately caught the eye and promised treasures inside.

Rosie pushed the door open, the delicate chime of bells ringing above them as they entered. Inside, rows of silken dresses, sturdy adventuring attire, and delicate robes in all colors lined the walls. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and incense, and the soft lighting gave the entire shop an ethereal glow.

"This place is beautiful," Momo whispered in awe as she ran her fingers along the fabric of a nearby gown.

Uraraka seemed a bit distracted, her eyes skimming the racks half-heartedly as if her mind was elsewhere. Rosie glanced between her and Momo before finally breaking the silence.

"So," Rosie began casually, "why were you so annoyed with Mei back there?"

Uraraka stiffened, pulling a dress from a nearby rack. "I wasn’t annoyed," she said quickly. "I just didn’t like the way she was flirting with Deku, that’s all."

Momo and Rosie exchanged knowing looks. "But why would that bother you?" Momo asked, her tone gentle but curious. "I mean, you and Izuku aren’t dating, right?"

Uraraka set the dress back down with a little more force than necessary. "It was just so… blatant. She barely knew him and was already acting like that!"

Rosie grinned. "Uh-huh. And that bothers you… because?"

Uraraka opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. She crossed her arms, cheeks flushing. "We’re friends, and I just don’t like seeing him being flirted with like that. It was weird. That’s all."

Neither Rosie nor Momo bought her explanation. Momo raised an eyebrow, her usual calm, collected demeanor breaking just slightly with amusement. "Sounds like you might care a bit more than just ‘friends’ would."

Uraraka huffed, grabbing another dress. “I don’t! I just… I don’t like seeing him uncomfortable, that’s all.”

Rosie chuckled, not wanting to press her too much further. "Okay, if you say so."

The conversation drifted back to the task at hand—finding new clothes for the girls. Momo’s attention was quickly captured by a striking dress on display near the back of the store. It was an elegant, strapless gown in deep crimson, with a large slit running up the right side, exposing her entire leg. Paired with heels that the storekeeper promised were enchanted to prevent foot pain from walking for so long, the dress was nothing short of stunning.

“This is perfect for you,” Rosie said as she admired the dress. “You’ll look amazing.”

Momo hesitated, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s a bit… revealing, don’t you think?”

Rosie shook her head, her tone encouraging. “You should show off a little. You’ve got the confidence and the figure for it. Plus, those heels? You’ll be unstoppable.”

Uraraka, now in a better mood, nodded eagerly. “Yeah! You’d look amazing in that. You should totally get it.”

Momo smiled, finally agreeing. "Alright, I’ll try it on."

The shopkeeper, a kindly older woman with sharp eyes for fashion, helped Momo into the dress and offered other similar styles—gowns with high slits, tailored skirts, and elegant robes. Momo tried on several outfits, her initial shyness fading as she became more comfortable with the bold styles. By the time she was done, her arms were full of new outfits.

Rosie found herself a few outfits as well—practical adventuring clothes mixed with a couple of fancier options, all revealing. A leather vest that was tailored to her form, enchanted bracers, and a pair of comfortable, stylish heeled boots that could survive both battle and social occasions.

Once they were finished, the three girls left the shop, their bags filled with new clothes. The sun was beginning to set as they made their way back to the market to pick up supplies for the next day’s journey. Stopping at various stalls, they gathered fresh herbs, dried meats, and potions for healing.

As they walked back to the tavern, their bags now heavier but their spirits high, Uraraka glanced over at Rosie. "Thanks for coming with me. I needed that."

Rosie smiled. "Of course. It was fun."

Momo nodded in agreement, her arms full of her new clothes. “I feel much more prepared now.”

As they entered the tavern, the boys were already seated at a large table, Katsuki half-asleep with his arms crossed, Shoto sipping quietly on a drink, and Izuku glancing nervously toward the door, clearly wondering if Uraraka was still upset with him.

The girls quickly dropped their bags off in their rooms before heading back down to the tavern to rejoin the group. As they slid into the large booth, Rosie couldn’t help but giggle when Katsuki greeted them with nothing but a low, annoyed grunt. It seems the men were kind enough to order food and drinks for them.

“I thought you went to bed already?” Rosie teased, nudging him in the side. “You look like you haven’t gotten any rest.”

Katsuki shot a murderous glare in Izuku’s direction, who suddenly found his drink incredibly interesting. “That damn nerd came into the room, spouting nonsense about the ranger being upset with him, and woke me up with all his muttering!”

Rosie shot a look toward Uraraka, who was now blushing furiously, staring intently at her plate. “I see,” Rosie said with a knowing smirk. “Don’t worry, Bakugo. After dinner, I’ll personally make sure you get your beauty sleep. I’ll even tuck you in if I have to.”

Katsuki’s expression darkened at the teasing, but it was hard to tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Meanwhile, Uraraka and Izuku seemed to shrink in their seats, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

Momo, ever the lady, chuckled softly behind her hand, clearly amused. Shoto, however, blinked in confusion, glancing between everyone as if trying to piece together the hidden meanings in their words. “What’s going on?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

Rosie shook her head, waving it off with a laugh. “Oh, nothing! Let’s focus on celebrating our new party member!”

Katsuki’s eye twitched, and he glared at Rosie, sensing the impending chaos. “Rosie,” he warned, his voice low and threatening, “if you want to make sure I get any sleep tonight, you’re gonna limit your drinking.”

Rosie pouted dramatically, leaning in closer. “Aw, don’t be a grump! It’s a celebration! Momo’s officially part of the team now!”

“I’m honored to join,” Momo said with a polite smile, lifting her glass in a small toast. “Thank you for accepting me.”

“Of course!” Rosie beamed, lifting her own glass, already full of some sort of potent ale. “To Momo! Our new friend and valuable addition to the team!”

The rest of the group, except for Katsuki, followed suit, raising their glasses with cheers of “To Momo!”

Katsuki, however, didn’t move. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched. “You’re gonna drink yourself stupid, aren’t you?”

Rosie winked. “It’s all in the name of friendship.”

Uraraka, still trying to shake off her embarrassment, leaned over and whispered, “Rosie, you might actually have to tuck him in if this keeps up.”

Rosie snorted at the idea. “Oh, you bet I will. I’ll even read him a bedtime story.”

Shoto, overhearing, nodded seriously. “I could help with the tucking-in part. I’ve read that a firm blanket tuck can improve sleep quality.”

Rosie nearly choked on her drink, bursting into laughter. “Shoto, that’s not what I meant—wait, never mind. You’re absolutely doing it!”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the mention of being “tucked in” like some child. “I swear, if any of you come near my bed tonight—”

But Rosie, Uraraka, and Momo were already deep in giggles, imagining Shoto meticulously tucking in the furious Katsuki.

“We’ll need extra pillows,” Momo suggested, playing along. “And maybe a warm cup of tea before bed.”

“I’ve got some herbs that’ll help him relax,” Rosie added, barely able to contain her laughter. “Lavender, maybe a little chamomile…”

Katsuki’s patience snapped. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the tavern, silencing everyone for a moment. But Rosie just grinned wider, clearly enjoying riling him up.

“You know, Katsuki,” Rosie said, leaning back in her seat with a smirk, “you really should let us pamper you once in a while. I think it’d do wonders for your attitude.”

“Yeah, Kacchan,” Izuku chimed in hesitantly, his voice small but earnest. “It might help you relax more.”

Katsuki growled, clearly fighting the urge to throttle him. “You. Shut up.”

Before the tension could rise any further, Rosie raised her glass again. “Alright, alright, enough teasing Katsuki for one night.” She flashed him a playful look. “For now.”

Everyone laughed, and the mood lightened again. The conversation turned to lighter things—stories from their past adventures, embarrassing moments (mostly involving Izuku’s clumsiness or Shoto’s deadpan misunderstandings), and future plans for their journey.

As the drinks flowed and the plates of food kept coming, Rosie couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. It wasn’t just the ale—though that certainly helped. It was the sense of family, of belonging. Their little party was growing, and despite the chaos, it felt right.

The night wore on with laughter and banter, and even Katsuki eventually relaxed—though he still kept a close eye on Rosie’s glass. And when the time came to finally head to their rooms, Rosie couldn’t resist one last jab.

“So,” she said, smirking at Katsuki as they stood up to leave. “Shall I bring the lavender tea now, or wait till you’re tucked in?”

Katsuki glared at her, his voice a low growl. “Rosie, I swear—”

But Rosie just laughed, giving him a wink as she headed for the stairs. Tonight had been a success, and as far as she was concerned, that was all that mattered.

"Good night, everyone!" Rosie called out, her voice lilting with playful mischief.

They felt like family.

Yes.

This is what family is supposed to feel like.

Chapter Text

As they stopped for lunch, Momo quietly observed the seamless routine of the group. Everyone dismounted their horses without a word, each falling into familiar roles as they set up camp. Izuku and Shoto led the horses to a nearby river for a drink while Katsuki disappeared into the woods, intent on catching something for their meal. Rosie, already setting up near the firepit, began preparing vegetables with a practiced hand.

Uraraka joined Momo on an old tree stump, offering her a friendly smile as she watched the scene unfold. "They've got this down to an art," Uraraka remarked, nodding toward Rosie as she efficiently chopped carrots and potatoes, seemingly in sync with Katsuki, who had returned with a skinned and cleaned boar just in time to help her.

As Shoto and Izuku returned with the horses, they joined the girls around the fire. Shoto raised a brow, glancing at Rosie and Katsuki working side by side with silent coordination. "Are you just watching them?"

Momo hesitated for a moment before voicing the question on her mind. "I know I'm new to the party, but... are they together?"

Uraraka giggled softly, shaking her head. "No, but I wouldn't be surprised if they eventually did. They act like an old married couple half the time."

Izuku nodded in agreement, his eyes following Katsuki as he quietly chopped the boar into pieces while Rosie prepared the cooking pot. "It's weird, but you're right. They fit together. Like they've been doing this for years."

Shoto, his gaze flicking between Katsuki and Rosie, tilted his head thoughtfully. "It's obvious he has a softness toward her. You can tell just by how he looks at her—there's something different about the way he treats her compared to how he treats the rest of us."

Momo blinked, fascinated by the insight. "He's... usually so intense. It's surprising to see him so... calm."

"That's the thing," Izuku added, adjusting his gloves as he leaned forward. "Rosie's naturally affectionate. She's kind to everyone, but with Katsuki... there's something more. It's hard to figure out, though, if she feels the same way toward him."

Uraraka grinned, crossing her arms. "They do call each other partners all the time, you know. They're always checking in on each other first after every fight, and when they had to pretend to be a married couple for that mission—nothing really changed between them. Except for the rings, and they got even more touchy."

Shoto let out a thoughtful hum, the memory of that mission coming to mind. "I caught them once... well, Katsuki on top of her."

Uraraka laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "She told me about that! She wanted an apple from a tree, but she couldn't reach it. He picked her up so she could grab them, but then she dropped them right on his head, and they both fell."

Shoto chuckled softly, and Momo giggled at the mental image, but none of them seemed to notice the way Katsuki's eye twitched at the mention of that incident.

Katsuki could hear every word they were saying. He was only a few feet away, crouched near the fire, focused on the boar he was preparing. His irritation simmered beneath the surface, but he forced himself to remain calm. Shoto and Deku were acting like he couldn't hear them, obliviously whispering about his relationship with Rosie as if he weren't right there.

He clenched the knife a little too tightly as he sliced through the meat. Damn idiots, he thought, gritting his teeth. Talking like they know anything about it...

He could feel the warmth of the fire on his skin, but his annoyance was hotter. It didn't help that Rosie was beside him, her presence making it harder to shut out the conversation. She hummed softly as she worked, blissfully unaware that they were being dissected like gossip fodder. Katsuki stole a glance at her, watching the way her hands moved with ease as she dropped the vegetables into the pot. His chest tightened.

"Hey, Rosie," Uraraka called over to them, a teasing tone in her voice. "We were just talking about you and Katsuki!"

Rosie's head shot up, blinking innocently. "Oh?" She looked between Uraraka and Katsuki, who was already glaring daggers in their direction.

Uraraka smirked, clearly enjoying herself. "We were wondering how long it'll take for you two to realize you're basically a couple."

Rosie flushed, her cheeks turning a light pink. "W-We're not... it's not like that." She glanced at Katsuki, who was now gripping the knife so hard it looked like he might snap it in half.

"Oh, sure," Shoto chimed in, his usually neutral face now showing a hint of a smile. "That's why you both pretend not to notice how much time you spend together."

Katsuki growled under his breath, his patience hanging by a thread. "You extras done talking yet? Or should I shove this damn boar down your throats so you shut up?"

Izuku, always the peacekeeper, raised his hands in surrender, though he couldn't hide the smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry, Kacchan. We're just curious."

Rosie giggled beside him, clearly enjoying Katsuki's flustered state. She nudged him playfully with her elbow. "Don't be so grumpy. They're just teasing."

Katsuki shot her a glare, though it lacked any real heat. "You're not helping."

Rosie laughed, shaking her head before turning back to the pot. "We're partners. That's all."

But as she stirred the vegetables, Katsuki's gaze lingered on her a little longer than necessary. Despite his irritation at their friends' incessant talking, a part of him wondered just how much of it was true. He scowled, mentally cursing the fact that he could hear them at all.

As the scent of the cooking boar filled the air, Momo leaned over to whisper to Uraraka, "They might be saying they're just partners, but I don't think anyone believes that."

Uraraka grinned. "Neither do I."

He growled, snapping his teeth towards them as Momo, Uraraka, and Izuku hid behind Shoto who just blinked at him.

They had been trudging through the dense woods for a couple of hours, following the vague directions given to them by their client. Their new request involved exploring a set of ancient ruins, believed to contain a stone tablet that could support the theory of an ancient civilization's lost advanced technology. The mission seemed straightforward enough, especially when they found the entrance to the underground ancient ruins, but the oppressive heat was quickly becoming a problem.

The boys had gone ahead to scout the area, ensuring it was secure before the rest of the group caught up. Their client had mentioned that the ground was mostly stable, but they were warned to exercise caution.

"It's so hot down here," Uraraka complained, fanning herself as she wiped sweat from her brow. The air inside the underground ruins felt suffocating, with no breeze to offer relief. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, glancing at Momo with desperation. "Momo, can you enchant my clothes to cool me off? Please?"

Momo shook her head, equally uncomfortable in her well-prepared excavating outfit. Her face was flushed from the heat, and her dark hair stuck to her forehead. "I wish I could, but I haven't mastered clothing enchantments yet. I'm still just an apprentice."

Rosie, standing nearby, was clearly done with the heat. Without hesitation, she began unbuttoning her shirt, revealing a black bra underneath. Uraraka's face flushed a deep pink as she averted her eyes, but Momo simply smiled in amusement, watching Rosie unbothered by the stifling heat.

"I can't take it anymore," Rosie sighed, kicking off her boots and starting to peel off her pants. "I feel like I'm suffocating in these clothes."

Momo let out a low whistle as Rosie stripped down, now standing in nothing but her bra and panties. "Well, at least you've got the body to pull it off," Uraraka mumbled, still blushing.

Rosie shrugged nonchalantly and tossed her discarded clothes into her pack that was in Uraraka's hands. "My kind don't mind showing skin, after all, it's just skin."

Just as the three of them settled into their conversation, the boys returned from scouting. Izuku was the first to enter the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting before they landed on Rosie in her undergarments.

"W-What?!" Izuku's face turned beet red as his jaw dropped, his wide eyes locked on Rosie. He immediately jumped back, sputtering incoherently. "R-Rosie?!"

Shoto walked in right behind him, equally unprepared for the sight before him. He blinked, his usual calm demeanor faltering for a split second, appreciation in his eyes before going back to indifference. "Oh, Rosie…you're naked."

Before Izuku could finish processing what he saw, Katsuki barged into the room, growling at the two. "Why the hell are you idiots standing there?" His voice trailed off as he, too, finally noticed Rosie standing in the center of the room in just her bra and panties.

His eyes widened, and for a brief moment, he froze.

Rosie, completely unfazed, simply smiled and waved at him. "Oh, good, you're back!"

Katsuki's eye twitched violently. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins as he whipped around and grabbed both Izuku and Shoto by the collars of their shirts. With force, he dragged them out of the room, ignoring their protests.

"Oi, stop staring at her!" he snapped, practically tossing them into the room they were in. Both boys stumbled, caught off guard by his sudden outburst, but neither dared to argue.

Turning back to Rosie, Katsuki's irritation was clear. His eyes flickered with possessiveness, and his jaw clenched as he took a step closer. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Rosie tilted her head in confusion, crossing her arms beneath her chest—an innocent gesture that unintentionally pushed her breasts up further. "What? I was hot. The spiders ruined my shorts, and I couldn't keep wearing those pants."

Katsuki bit back a groan, his gaze flicking down to her exposed skin before snapping back up to her face. "So you just decided to strip naked in front of those two idiots?"

"I stripped before they walked in!" Rosie retorted, her hands resting on her hips. "It's not like I gave them a show."

Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, trying and failing to calm the rising jealousy burning in his chest. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone seeing Rosie like this—especially those two. His eyes were drawn to the soft curve of her waist, the warmth of her skin practically radiating in the heat of the ruins.

Without another word, Katsuki dropped his pack and swiftly yanked his shirt off, much to the amusement of Momo, who smirked, and Uraraka, who immediately turned a deeper shade of red. His muscular frame glistened with sweat, but he barely noticed the girls' reactions as he stalked toward Rosie.

"Here." His voice was low and rough as he grabbed her arms, lifting them up. He slipped his black shirt over her head, the fabric falling down to her thighs like an oversized dress. His fingers brushed against her warm skin as he pulled the shirt down, sending an electric jolt through his body that he tried to ignore.

Rosie blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden gesture, but she smiled warmly at him, her expression softening. "Thanks, Katsuki," she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

Katsuki grunted, trying to focus on anything other than the way she looked in his shirt, which now clung loosely to her body. "You should've told me you were hot. I would've helped you sooner," he muttered, tugging the fabric down to cover more of her legs, though he couldn't help but let his hands linger a little too long on her hips.

Rosie laughed softly, oblivious to the internal battle raging inside him. "You didn't have to. But I appreciate it."

Katsuki swallowed hard, his eyes flickering over her one last time before turning around and grabbing her wrist. "Let's get going," he barked, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

"Let me put my shoes back on," Rosie immediately yanked them back on before giving him a thumbs up.

He snatched up her pack from the still-flustered Uraraka, who had been holding it awkwardly, and practically dragged Rosie out of the room.

As they made their way deeper into the ruins, Katsuki kept a tight hold on Rosie's hand, still simmering with jealousy. He couldn't shake the image of those two idiots gawking at her, and the possessiveness only intensified the more he thought about it.

Rosie hummed softly beside Katsuki, her steps light and carefree, completely unaware of the battle raging in his mind. Katsuki's eyes lingered on her smooth legs, which caught the dim light of the underground tunnels as they moved. His oversized black shirt hung loosely on her, barely covering her hips, and he caught glimpses of the black panties she wore whenever the fabric swayed with her steps. He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around her wrist as they walked in silence.

Izuku, having learned his lesson after Katsuki's earlier outburst, kept a healthy distance, sticking close to Uraraka. He clung to her side as they led the group, walking a few paces ahead. Uraraka seemed much more at ease now that they were deeper in the ruins, focusing on the task at hand.

Behind them, Shoto was using his right side, channeling ice to keep Momo cool as she trudged through the stifling tunnels. Their quiet conversation filled the space between the group, discussing what they had learned about the ancient civilization so far.

"This language… it's a mix of old dialects from different regions," Momo explained thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the tunnel walls. "I'm still translating parts of it, but it seems like they were a highly advanced society before they mysteriously vanished."

Shoto nodded, his expression calm but curious. "It would explain the technology we've seen remnants of in other ruins. But there's still so much we don't know."

Rosie, meanwhile, continued humming, her eyes curiously scanning the dark passageways, oblivious to Katsuki's continued distracted gaze. His focus was split between staying on guard and trying not to fixate on how enticing she looked in his shirt, her legs looking impossibly long in the dim light.

Suddenly, Uraraka's voice broke through the tension. "Finally!" she cheered, raising her arms in excitement. "We found it!"

The group came to a halt as they reached the end of the tunnel, where it opened up into a massive chamber. They all carefully stepped forward, taking in the breathtaking sight before them. The room was enormous, easily the size of a small city block, with towering walls covered in intricate carvings and faded murals. The images depicted scenes of a once-great civilization—people adorned in regal attire, towering buildings made of stone and metal, and glowing spheres of light suspended in the sky, possibly a nod to their lost technology.

Ancient scripts in the same language Momo had been translating covered every inch of the walls, curling around the images like vines. The faint golden glow of the runes illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows that flickered in the dim light of their torches.

"Look at this…" Momo whispered in awe, her eyes scanning the walls. "These carvings are incredible. The detail… it's almost as if they were telling a story of their rise and fall."

Rosie stepped further into the room, her gaze trailing over the walls, taking in the magnitude of the history preserved here. "It's like a whole city in one room."

They all moved cautiously, their steps echoing in the cavernous space. As they ventured deeper into the chamber, the ground began to slope downward, and at the far end of the room, they saw it—the stone tablet that their client had described.

It stood at the center of an elevated platform, surrounded by a massive stone bridge that spanned a wide chasm. The bridge was narrow, with crumbling edges that warned of danger. Beneath it, nothing but darkness stretched into what seemed like an endless abyss.

Uraraka squinted, trying to make out the details of the tablet from a distance. "That's it, right?"

Momo nodded. "Yes, that must be the tablet. But we'll need to cross the bridge to reach it."

"Great…" Katsuki muttered, eyeing the unstable-looking bridge. "This just keeps getting better."

Izuku took a deep breath, stepping forward cautiously. "We should be careful. The client said the ground here is mostly stable, but we don't know how long this bridge has been standing."

Shoto glanced around the chamber, noting the worn-down stone and cracks in the structure. "It looks ancient. We'll need to cross one at a time to avoid putting too much weight on it."

Rosie stepped closer to the edge of the chasm, peering down into the darkness. A faint gust of wind blew up from below, causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise. "I don't like the look of this… but we don't really have a choice, do we?"

Katsuki's hand instinctively tightened around her wrist, his protective instincts kicking in. "Stay behind me, got it?"

Rosie raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You know I can handle myself, right?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not taking any chances," he grumbled, giving her a pointed look.

Momo stepped forward, nodding at the group. "I'll go first. If I can make it across, then we'll know it's safe enough."

She began her careful walk across the bridge, her boots lightly tapping against the stone. The ancient structure groaned beneath her weight, but it held steady. Slowly but surely, she made it to the other side and waved back at them.

"Okay, it's safe! One at a time!" Momo called out, her voice echoing in the chamber.

Izuku was the next to cross, followed by Uraraka, each of them moving cautiously across the narrow stone. Rosie, with Katsuki's insistence, went after them. Her steps were light, but she could feel the precariousness of the ancient bridge beneath her feet.

As Rosie reached the other side, Katsuki followed closely behind, his eyes scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger. He was always on edge, ready for anything to go wrong, but for the moment, the room was eerily silent, the only sounds coming from their footsteps and the occasional creaking of the bridge.

Once they were all safely across, they gathered around the stone tablet, which was covered in the same ancient script they had seen on the walls. Momo knelt down, running her fingers over the carvings.

"This is it," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "This tablet holds the key to understanding what happened to this civilization."

Rosie knelt beside her, peering at the worn symbols. "So, what do we do now?"

Momo looked up at the group, determination in her eyes. "We decode it. If we can translate this, we might uncover the secrets of their lost technology."

Katsuki stood nearby, his arms crossed as he scanned the room for any potential threats. He couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something was watching them from the shadows, but for now, he pushed the thought aside.

Rosie, sensing his tension, lightly bumped his shoulder with hers. "Relax, Katsuki. We've got this."

Katsuki glanced down at her, his earlier irritation fading as he saw the confidence in her eyes. He grunted, his lips twitching into a small smirk. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't get too comfortable."

Chapter Text

After Momo secured the stone tablet safely in her pack, her eyes gleamed with excitement. "We should explore the ruins while we still have the chance," she said, clapping her hands together. "There's probably so much knowledge down here that hasn't been uncovered yet!"

Uraraka groaned, leaning against a flustered Izuku as she fanned herself. "It's so hot though… I wanna get out of here already."

Rosie, sitting casually on a rock with her legs crossed, only made the situation more tense for Katsuki, who stood right in front of her to block the boys' view. The way his oversized shirt had risen up higher on her legs was not helping his possessiveness. "Maybe we should split up," Rosie suggested, her eyes scanning the group. "One of us can deliver the tablet, and we girls can grab proper clothing to deal with this heat."

"That's a good idea," Shoto agreed, always practical and calm.

Katsuki, who had been glaring at everyone who dared to glance at Rosie, grunted, "Let's get out of here."

As they left the underground ruins, they made their way back to town quickly. The girls separated from the boys to find new clothes, though Katsuki was visibly reluctant to leave Rosie's side. His sharp glare tracked every man's eyes that lingered on her swaying hips, and the low growl rumbling in his throat didn't help the situation. His hands began to sweat, tiny explosions popping in his palms with each jealous thought.

"Uh, let's get you some clothes quickly before Katsuki starts something," Uraraka laughed nervously, watching his murderous expression.

Rosie blinked up at Katsuki, seemingly oblivious to the chaos her appearance was causing. "Relax, Katsuki. We'll be back in no time," she said, patting his arm.

"Meet us back at the ruins when you're done," Izuku called out, leading the boys away.

An hour later, the girls returned to the ruins refreshed, dressed in proper lightweight enchanted clothing that would ward off the heat and keep them cool. The boys were already waiting by the entrance. Katsuki immediately fell in step beside Rosie, his sharp eyes scanning the area, still tense from earlier.

Once they were all together again, they re-entered the ruins, this time pushing deeper into unexplored tunnels. The further they went, the more ancient and weathered the walls became. Strange symbols adorned the stone, and the air had a musty, earthy scent. The deeper they went, the cooler the air became, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat they had dealt with earlier.

After some time exploring, Momo's attention was caught by a strange artifact on a pedestal at the center of a large room. It was a small, oval-shaped object with glowing runes etched into its surface. Its faint light pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat.

"What is this?" Momo wondered aloud, her fingers hovering over the object.

"Careful," Shoto warned, watching her closely. "It could be dangerous."

Ignoring his concern, Momo gently picked up the artifact, feeling its cool surface in her hands. "It's strange… it doesn't seem harmful, but it's definitely old."

Curious, Rosie walked over and held out her hand. "Let me see."

Momo passed the artifact to her, and Rosie immediately felt a strange warmth spread through her fingertips. "Weird… it feels alive."

Izuku took it next, examining it with wide eyes. "I've never seen anything like this before. Maybe we should bring it back for further study."

When Katsuki got his hands on it, the warmth turned to a low hum in his grip, and a spark of irritation flared up. "It's just a hunk of rock, let's move on."

Momo, however, insisted on keeping it. "I'll hold onto it. It might be important."

With the artifact in tow, they continued exploring, eventually stumbling upon a hidden chamber at the end of the tunnels. Inside was a small underground waterfall, cascading into a shallow, clear pool of water. The sound of the flowing water was soothing, and the cool mist in the air was refreshing after hours of trekking.

"This place is beautiful," Uraraka breathed, her eyes wide in awe.

Rosie grinned and, without hesitation, stripped down to her bra and panties and jumped into the pool after kicking her boots off. "I'm in!" she laughed, splashing water at Katsuki.

Katsuki scowled at first, but with a resigned sigh, he followed her in after stripping down to his boxers. The others weren't far behind, eager to cool off. They laughed and splashed around, enjoying the moment of relaxation.

But as they climbed out of the water, something strange happened. A disorienting sensation washed over them, as if the world had shifted beneath their feet. Rosie blinked, her body feeling strange and foreign.

"Wait… what the hell?" Katsuki's voice came out of Rosie's mouth.

Rosie—now in Katsuki's body—looked down at herself, her eyes wide. "Oh no…"

"Wh-what's going on?!" Izuku's panicked voice came from Uraraka's mouth as he frantically looked around.

"Calm down, Deku!" Uraraka—now in Izuku's body—yelled, her face turning beet red at the sight of herself.

Momo and Shoto exchanged glances, both trying to process what had just happened. "It seems we've swapped bodies," Shoto's calm voice came from Momo's body.