Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night air sends a faint chill along Izuku’s body, or maybe it’s not the air, but the anticipation-heavy silence of the crowd. The night so far has been joyful: food, drink, dancing. But Izuku doesn’t join in. His gaze is fixed solely on the main attraction of the evening, the reason this celebration is happening in the first place.

The crowd quiets as Midnight, the Tribe’s Inker, stands, signaling that she’s done.

Izuku watches, breath held, as five people rise from their seats and walk toward the crowd. One person leads the group.

Bakugou Katsuki.

Izuku’s eyes are immediately drawn to Kacchan’s arm. The mark there looks fresh and beautiful. His breath catches as he stares. This mark officially makes Katsuki the leader of his dragon horde. The others behind him: Kirishima Eijiro, Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina, and Kaminari Denki, all share the same mark.

These people are the ones Kacchan bonded with. They are the ones who will fight beside him, protect him, and stand by his side in battle. They walk with him now, a perfect unit.

The silence thickens, and there’s a hum of pride as the horde moves confidently through the crowd.

Usually, the process of inking isn’t much of a spectacle. Their clan’s Inkers etch their achievements into their skin regularly, everything from completing training to winning their first battle. It’s common to see people walking through clan lands with a new mark to show off.

Some marks are more personal, bloodkin's marks shared between lovers. These tend to be quiet, private exchanges, sometimes even done without the aid of the clan's Inkers.

But for big events, like the formation of a horde, the inking is made public. The bond between riders and dragons is no simple thing; it’s a monumental achievement. Dragons are temperamental creatures, after all.

Izuku feels a hollow pang in his chest as he watches. He had wanted to be part of a horde, too. He had dreamed of it ever since he was little, watching the warriors and their dragons train, fight, and protect their clan. Izuku and Kacchan would watch, wide-eyed, planning for the day when they would each have their own dragons.

But Izuku is no dragon rider.

He wasn’t chosen by a dragon, even though he was a dragonborn. He wasn’t trained in dragon riding and combat. He didn’t participate in the horde's initiation and return victorious, like Katsuki had today.

He pushes the thought aside as he watches Katsuki step up to the Chieftains of the Tribe, his mother, Mitsuki, and his father, and bow his head.

“We welcome our new horde,” Chieftain Mitsuki announces, nodding at Katsuki. The young man grins proudly, understanding her message, and opens his mouth to let out a roar. The entire tribe joins him, and Izuku closes his eyes to focus on the sound of beating wings. The horde’s five dragons descend and land gracefully around the tribe in the open field.

The cheering is unnecessary, but Izuku knows it’s tradition. Any dragon rider has a deep connection with their dragon, so they could summon their partner without uttering a word. But the tribe celebrates in unison, as is customary.

“Are you okay?”

Izuku turns at the sound of the voice. Shinsou’s tired violet eyes study him carefully. Izuku smiles in an attempt to reassure his friend, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he says, looking back at the festivities. The celebration continues with everyone eating, drinking, or dancing. Even Katsuki is sitting at a table, enjoying a drink and smiling with the pride of someone who’s just gotten everything they wanted. “I’m happy for them.”

“Eat, then.” Shinsou shoves a piece of sweetened bread into his hands. Izuku laughs softly, tearing off a piece and popping it into his mouth. “They’re the muscle, but you’re going to be the brains of this whole tribe.”

“I’m just an apprentice, Shinsou-kun. I’ll mostly help the advisor and translate for the Chieftains.”

“Only because the asshole advisor doesn’t let you do shit.” The bitterness in Shinsou’s voice is more than just frustration at Izuku’s situation. It’s laced with memories of his own struggles before Aizawa, the tribe’s sorcerer, adopted him and gave him a sense of purpose.

“Mirai-san is stern but fair,” Izuku says, shrugging. “Advisors need to know a little bit about everything to help the Chieftains. The more I learn, the more I can assist him, and he can help them.”

“You know more than most.”

Izuku hums, his eyes drawn once again to the dragons. He’s always found them beautiful. He hears Shinsou sigh, and turns to see his friend smiling softly, shaking his head.

“I’m okay,” Izuku repeats, knowing that’s what’s bothering Shinsou. Despite his improvement, Shinsou still feels guilty about his progress while Izuku remains stuck where he is.

“I know you are,” Shinsou mutters, taking a bite of his bread. He changes the subject, telling Izuku about his recent lessons in warding.

“I’m getting better at it,” he says, “but they’re still easy to break. Aizawa’s wards, though? They’re unbreakable. I’ve tried, can’t even dent’em”

Izuku smiles. "It just takes time. Warding’s tough."

Shinsou nods. "Speaking of," he says, his attention shifting. Izuku looks up and follows his gaze to see Aizawa standing a few feet away, watching him. Shinsou finishes his bread and stands up. "Time to check in with Aizawa-sensei. You good?"

Izuku nods, and Shinsou hesitates for a moment before running off toward his mentor.

Izuku finishes off his bread and checks to see where Kacchan is. He spots him still at the table with his horde. Seizing the opportunity, Izuku walks to the edge of the festivities, where the firelight barely reaches.

Korr, Katsuki’s dragon, lies curled on the ground, his massive tail wrapped around his body. His head rests on his arms, and he watches as Izuku approaches. Izuku feels no fear as he walks up to the dragon. Korr sniffs the air, then settles back down, allowing Izuku to raise a hand to his snout. The dragon nuzzles into it, accepting the touch.

Izuku smiles. Dragons had always liked him, even though he had never been chosen. Perhaps it was because of all the time he spent with them as a child, visiting the hatchlings, sitting with them, and hoping, just a little, that one would choose him.

But no dragon ever did.

"Enjoying your night?" Izuku asks softly. The dragon huffs in response, and Izuku laughs. Korr doesn’t usually come down to the tribe a lot, preferring to stay at his cave or in the skies when Katsuki does not need him. So being able to get to him alone is a rare treat

“I brought you something.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small silver medal, one he found in the forest a few weeks ago, likely a relic from an old battle. He could sell it and get a decent amount of money, but he doesn’t need luxuries.

Korr’s eyes glint as he examines the medal. He prefers gold, but silver is acceptable. Izuku kneels, placing it gently on the ground near Korr’s claws. The dragon stretches his claw out and pulls it toward him, accepting the gift.

Izuku grins, the simple act of giving the dragon something making him feel… useful. He likes this feeling. He wants to be useful.

"Deku."

Izuku jumps, spinning to face the familiar voice. Korr huffs, clearly displeased by the sudden movement.

Bakugou Katsuki stands before him, all the presence of a future chief. His red cape hangs off strong shoulders, and his arms are covered in marks, some old, some new. Izuku catches a glimpse of the first mark, the one he received when Korr chose him. Back then, Kacchan had promised to hold Izuku’s hand when he got his mark. Izuku had made the same promise, but Kacchan had always boasted that he was too tough for hand-holding.

In the end, Izuku wasn’t there for Kacchan’s first mark. There would be more, no doubt, as Katsuki faced and overcame obstacles. Izuku knew he would eventually have his entire body covered in those marks, just like the other riders and warriors. People would look at him with awe.

Izuku, on the other hand, had no marks. And he doubted he ever would.

“I was just visiting Korr,” Izuku says softly, not quite meeting Katsuki’s gaze. They hadn’t spoken much lately, barely acknowledging each other when they crossed paths. “Congratulations on completing your initiation. You must be happy.”

“I knew we would,” Katsuki replies matter-of-factly, a confident grin tugging at his lips. But then his face softens slightly, and he adds, “I guess it was fucking tough though.”

Izuku blinks in surprise. Kacchan, admitting weakness? It’s been so long since they last talked, and Izuku can’t quite reconcile the change he sees in his old friend.

“But you did it” Izuku offers as comfort “I knew you would too, Ka-Katsuki” he stumbles over the nickname. He almost slipped, almost said Kacchan out loud. He hasn't said that name loud in a good long while.

“And you?” Katsuki interrupts his thinking. “How’s your apprenticeship?”

Izuku feels a familiar shame curl in his gut and take its place. An apprenticeship is nothing to be ashamed of. But for Izuku, who fought so hard for what he wanted only to throw it all away and accept defeat, it was painful.

“It’s good” he answers with a smile “I-I’ve been learning a lot”

The Kacchan Izuku knew would scoff, would grin evilly at him and beat him down because nothing was as amazing as being a dragon rider.

There's no cruelty in Katsuki's gaze when he answers “That’s good. We need more people who know their shit around here”

The surprises continue. Izuku is trying to see if there’s an angle in that sentence that can be an insult to him. But he can’t.

“Thank you, Katsuki” he answers and something in Katsuki’s face shifts. He grunts in answer to Izuku but Izuku continues “I-I have to go. I have to get up early to meet Mirai-sensei”

“Deku wait” Katsuki says and Izuku freezes, turning back. He hates how he still can’t help the flinch at any sudden movements from Katsuki.

“Y-yes?” 

Katsuki has fallen still, staring at him. He sighs, shaking his head “It’s nothing” he corrects. Izuku hesitates but turns around and dashes away from the celebrations and towards his house with his mother.

“You’re back early” his mom pipes as he enters his house. She left the celebrations early too, much preferring to be at home with a cup of tea. She also can’t really handle the whispers. Izuku’s dad had brought shame to the family and they’re still living in the wake of it now. He ran away like a coward in a battle, leaving his dragon behind to die and abandoning his people.

Izuku was supposed to bring honor back to his family by being an amazing warrior. But he can’t now.

“I have an early day tomorrow,” he told her. “I don’t want to oversleep”

 “Okay dear, have a good night” his mom chirps sweetly

“You too” his legs take him to his room where he goes through the motions of getting ready for bed. Sleep claims him quickly.

Chapter Text

Then

“Kacchan,” Izuku addresses his childhood friend timidly, the name slipping out with hesitation. He knows he shouldn’t do this, but he has to. It’s the only way. Everyone else would laugh in his face, but with Katsuki, there’s a slim chance, slim but real, that he might say yes, even if it’s just to prove Izuku wrong.

“Deku.” Katsuki sneers at him, his tone dripping with contempt. “The fuck do you want?”

They’re alone now. Izuku had waited until Kacchan was alone, carefully choosing this moment.

“I-I have a favor to ask,” Izuku stutters, his fingers twisting together nervously. This is a bad idea, and deep down, he knows it. But he has to ask. The worst Katsuki could do is mock him—maybe shove him like he’s done before.

“A favor?” Katsuki scoffs, glaring at him. “What makes you think I’d help you with anything?”

Izuku freezes, his mind scrambling. When he doesn’t respond fast enough, Katsuki snaps, “Well? Spit it out.”

“C-can you teach me how to ride a dragon?”

The silence that follows is deafening.

“What?” The word is an arrow through the silence, piercing yet quiet. Izuku isn’t a warrior, but even he can sense the impending danger. He rushes to explain.

“I-I was reading some old texts. There were cases, rare ones, where people connected with dragons years later. It-it might not happen, but I thought...if you taught me, I’d be ready when, or if, it does.”

It’s a long shot. Izuku knows it, and the odds of him ever bonding with a dragon are almost nonexistent. The old texts barely hinted at the possibility, and even then, they were vague at best. But desperation has Izuku in a chokehold. 

“Sure.”

Izuku’s head snaps up. Did Katsuki just agree? No mocking, no yelling, no insults? Just...yes?

“W-what? Y-you...”

“I fucking said yes, didn’t I?” Katsuki snaps, the sound of wings beating in the distance filling the air. Korr.

“You called Korr?” Izuku squeaks. “We’re doing this now?”

“No time like the present,” Katsuki shrugs, walking toward the clearing where Korr is about to land.

Izuku follows, watching as Korr descends. The dragon is a magnificent sight, red scales darkening into black as they stretch toward its back. Korr has always been one of the most beautiful dragons.

Katsuki mounts the dragon with ease, moving as if they’re one. He leans down and offers Izuku his hand.

A rush of warmth hits Izuku square in the chest. It’s been so long since Kacchan offered his hand for anything other than violence. Izuku takes it eagerly, cherishing the brief moment of connection.

It’s a little embarrassing how easily Kacchan lifts him, setting him in front of him on Korr. Izuku feels small compared to the solid muscle behind him, the warmth radiating from Kacchan’s body.

“You hold here,” Kacchan instructs, taking Izuku’s hands and placing them on a set of spikes near Korr’s neck.

At that moment, Korr takes off, the sudden speed making Izuku’s stomach drop. The feeling of flight, of soaring toward the sky, fills Izuku’s heart with something he’s never felt before.

This, he thinks, is where I’m meant to be.

They’re high above the ground, the tribe below them a distant speck when Izuku starts to speak. “Kacchan, how do you-”

He never finishes. He should have seen it coming. He’s smart enough, observant enough, to have known. But desperation blinds him, and before he realizes it, Kacchan shoves him.

The world tilts violently, and Izuku tumbles down Korr’s side. He scrambles for something, anything, to grab. But it’s all happening too fast.

Suddenly, his left arm is yanked, and a sharp, searing pain explodes from his shoulder. Something pops, and Izuku cries out.

“Kacchan!” He looks up at his friend, no, the person who used to be his friend. Katsuki’s face is twisted with fury, the neutral mask he wore earlier gone.

“You really thought,” Katsuki growls, his voice venomous, “that a useless runt like you could ride my fucking dragon? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I-Kacchan, pull me up, please.” Izuku glances down, and the once thrilling height now sends a shiver of fear racing through him. His shoulder throbs with sharp, pulsating pain, and his breathing quickens.

“Why? Don’t want to fly all of a sudden, Deku? I’m just teaching you how.” Katsuki loosens his grip on Izuku’s arm for just a second, but it’s enough for Izuku to drop a little more, a startled cry escaping his throat. Tears spring to his eyes, a bitter mix of fear and shame. He knows—he tells himself—Katsuki wouldn’t actually drop him.

“KACCHAN, PLEASE!”

Would he?

“Why shouldn’t I fucking drop you, huh? You stupid fucking runt.” Katsuki’s face twists with rage, the angriest and most terrifying Izuku has ever seen it. And for the first time, as he stares up at his childhood friend, Izuku believes Katsuki really might want him dead.

“Please,” he sobs, voice breaking. “Please, Kacchan.”

Katsuki glares down at him, studying his tear-streaked face for a moment. Then he lets go.

Izuku’s scream pierces the air as the wind rushes around him. He tumbles wildly, the sky and ground spinning, the feeling of falling swallowing him whole. The ground grows closer, closer, until he catches a glimpse of red scales beneath him. Korr swoops in catching him mid-fall. Katsuki grabs his shirt, yanking him back onto the dragon's back like it was nothing.

Izuku is panting, his heart hammering in his chest. His mind can barely process that he's alive, no longer plummeting toward death.

“Have you learned your lesson, Deku?” Katsuki asks coldly, not even turning to look at him. Izuku’s hands shake as they cling to Korr’s scales, but this time, he avoids touching Katsuki. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near him. The fear lingers, embedding itself deep into his bones.

Katsuki says nothing more as Korr descends, the silence between them thick and suffocating. The joy of flight, of being in the sky, is gone, replaced by the dull ache of his shoulder and the hollow emptiness gnawing at his chest. Izuku’s mind feels numb, his heart heavier than it has ever been.

By the time Korr lands in the clearing, Izuku scrambles to get off. His movements are awkward, pain shooting through his body as his feet finally touch the ground. But he doesn’t care. He just wants to feel solid earth beneath him, to be far away from Katsuki.

The moment both feet are on the ground, Izuku whirls around and, with all the strength left in his body, punches Katsuki. For the first time in his life, he strikes his former friend.

“You are cruel,” Izuku says, voice trembling. He wants it to sound strong, but it comes out weak, almost pitiful. “Cruel and selfish and a bastard.” The last word feels a little better, at least.

Katsuki’s reaction is immediate. He punches back, his fist slamming into Izuku’s face with brutal force. “And you’re weak and pathetic,” Katsuki spits, enraged. “Crying like a child. What, riding wasn’t what you thought it’d be?”

“ You’re weak and pathetic for doing this,” Izuku yells, his voice breaking. “You could’ve just said no! Why didn’t you say no, Kacchan?”

“DON’T FUCKING CALLING ME THAT, I’LL KILL YOU!” Katsuki roars, charging at Izuku.

Izuku hits the ground hard, barely able to fight back with his dislocated shoulder. The pain is excruciating, but what hurts more is the realization: this is it. This is who Katsuki is now. He tries to land a few hits, but it’s no use.

People start running toward them. Katsuki’s soon-to-be horde rushes in, grabbing him, pulling him away from the fight. Izuku’s friend Shinsou is the only one who runs to him. He reaches for Izuku’s left arm, but Izuku cries out in pain, his shoulder burning.

“Shit.” Shinsou’s expression tightens as he grabs Izuku by the other arm, helping him stand.

Izuku staggers to his feet, leaning on Shinsou for support. He glances over at Katsuki, still breathing heavily, his eyes locked on Izuku’s.

Izuku thought the world of Katsuki once.

“I hate you,” Izuku whispers, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. Katsuki’s face tightens, but Izuku doesn’t wait for a response. He limps away, leaning heavily on Shinsou.

A part of him died today, tumbled to the ground instead of soaring in the sky where he always thought he belonged.

“That fucking asshole,” Shinsou growls as the healer tends to Izuku’s injuries, his voice burning with anger on Izuku’s behalf. The healer usually has a lecture or two for Izuku after he hurts himself trying to train, but today, she says nothing.

“I’m reporting him to the chieftain,” Shinsou mutters darkly.

“No.” Izuku speaks for the first time since leaving the clearing. He doesn’t look at Shinsou, too drained to even lift his head.

“No? Izuku, look at yourself! Look at what he did!”

“I hit him first.”

Shinsou pauses for a moment, the fire in his voice simmering down. “I know there’s more to it than that,” he says quietly, stepping closer. The healer finishes wrapping Izuku’s arm and steps away.

“Thank you, Chiyo-san,” Izuku mumbles as he slowly pulls his shirt back on. His shoulder still hurts, but the physical pain feels distant, almost secondary to the emotional weight crushing him.

Shinsou watches him carefully. “What happened, Izuku?” he asks again, softer this time.

“I fell,” Izuku says simply, walking past him and out the door.

The next day, Izuku signs up for an apprenticeship with Advisor Mirai.

Chapter Text

Izuku is up exceedingly early the next day, as he always is. He likes to be the first up and the first at the library, to finish any work Mirai-san requests but also to indulge in books he can’t find anywhere else. His favorites are the ones considered lore and myths, books he'd pored over when he still hoped to become a rider. Now, they’re just comforting reads, stories he can lose himself in during the quiet hours of the morning when he has the library all to himself.

But today, his peace is interrupted earlier than usual. Heavy footsteps echo from the stairwell, followed by muffled laughter. Izuku glances toward the door in curiosity. Who could be awake and energetic at this hour?

“Man, I can’t believe you had us strength training so early after the night we had,” comes a groan from someone Izuku quickly identifies as Kaminari. “I don’t know if I need food or sleep right now.”

Izuku’s breath hitches. Kacchan’s horde. Izuku has no doubt that-

“Not my damn fault you can’t handle your spirits,” Katsuki’s sharp voice bites back. Izuku’s heart drops, confirming his guess. He strains to keep up with their conversation. “Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you now that we’re a horde.”

“Hell yeah, we are!” Sero’s voice rings out in excitement. “besides Denks, maybe if you did more strength training you wouldn’t fall off your dragon”

“That was one time” Denki whines in response Izuku smiles faintly to himself, imagining Denki pouting while the rest of the horde laugh. He’d always found them interesting. Despite everything, they were generally nice to him, though he’d never gotten close because of... well, because of Katsuki. “And you swore you wouldn’t mention it again”

“We did no such thing, man” Kirishima snickers 

“Yeah, You were the only one who agreed to that” Mina laughs

“And one time is one time too fucking many” Katsuki bites back. Izuku hears their footsteps grow closer and panics. He hopes that’s it. That they’d walk past the library and Izuku would continue his day as expected. 

But they don’t.

The door opens with a creak, and Izuku freezes, eyes widening as Katsuki enters the room. His gaze lands directly on Izuku. The air thickens with an awkward silence. Izuku can see the rest of the horde continuing their way down the hall.

“Hello. Um, hi - I mean. what are you doing here?” Izuku blurts, immediately wincing at how nervous he sounds.

Katsuki raises an eyebrow. “Can’t visit my own damn library?”

Izuku lets out a laugh that feels borderline hysterical, feeling like a fool. “No, I just... I didn’t expect you. I’ll get out of your way.” He looks back to his book, feigning interest in its pages. He isn’t reading anything, but maybe Katsuki won’t notice.

Katsuki moved closer, making Izuku's pulse race. “Wait. Damn it, I’m looking for something.”

Izuku blinks in surprise. Since when did Kacchan ask for help?

“What do you need?” he asks cautiously.

“Some agreements with Shiketsu changed while I was on my initiation trip. I need the updated ones. Anything else I missed in the last six months, too.”

There it is again—this strange shift in Katsuki. He seems more mature, less brash. The Kacchan Izuku remembers would’ve demanded the scrolls without a second thought. 

Izuku shakes it off. "Give me a moment," he mutters, rising from his seat. He makes his way to the restricted section of the library, where only a few have access. The agreements are fairly new, so they shouldn’t be hard to find.

Izuku grabs two scrolls: one with the updated Shiketsu agreement and another with expanded trade resources from Ketsubetsu. A third scroll, detailing an aid agreement with the Isamu Kingdom, catches his eye. It’s a little out of reach, but Izuku manages to grab it, knocking over a few scrolls in the process.

"Ah, damn it." He quickly places the scrolls on the table, feeling heat rise to his face but ignoring his clumsiness

“Here you go,” Izuku says, handing the scrolls to Katsuki.

Katsuki grunts as he takes the scrolls “Lots of shit to read before the next council meeting”

“Oh, yes I forgot you'd be attending this council meeting” Izuku comments. It was going to take a while to get used to Katsuki reincorporating his life with the tribe again. Izuku needs to get used to seeing him more often.

“No shit. They're letting you in there?”

The jab is subtle, but it stings all the same. Izuku’s chest tightens as memories of past insults bubble up. His face flushes, but he squares his shoulders.

“Yes,” he answers, forcing himself to sound calm. “I attend with Advisor Mirai. I act as a scribe and offer any information needed.” He turns away, gathering his things. “Now, if that’s all, I have other duties to attend to.” Lies. He isn’t supposed to meet with Mirai for another few hours.

Katsuki doesn’t respond, but Izuku can feel his gaze lingering until the library door finally closes behind him. Izuku exhales shakily, letting the tension leave his body. Being so curt with Kacchan isn’t something he is used to, but at least it’s over. Izuku resolves himself to only be around Katsuki for tribe purposes. Other than that, he will aptly avoid him.

Turns out that is easier said than done.

Because Katsuki is everywhere now. Their tribe is huge, it has to be; they have dragons . So it's full of huge houses, huge roads, huge cliffs for their dragons to lounge by. Izuku's plan is to avoid the Keep and training grounds. All places he knows Katsuki will remain by. He can't fully avoid the Keep; Izuku still has his apprenticeship with Mirai-sani, but he's always been good at sticking to the sides and keeping invisible. He even gives up his favorite seat by the library window, retreating to a gloomy corner in the back where no one would bother him.

But he can’t avoid the council meeting.

A week after their encounter in the library, Izuku finds himself trailing Mirai-san into the council room. He keeps his head high, resisting the urge to clutch his books to his chest and stare at the floor. Act like you belong here , Shinsou’s voice rings in his mind.

At the head of the table sits the Chieftain, her Bloodkin, Bakugou Masaru, at her right. Katsuki is already seated to her left. Always vigilant, Katsuki’s eyes meet his stare for a brief moment. Izuku quickly looks away, scanning the rest of the room.

Next to Katsuki is Aizawa, whose bored expression suggests he’s on the verge of falling asleep—but Izuku knows better than to be fooled by that.

On Chief Masaru’s other side is General Kato Asahi, leader of the ground troops. His dislike for Izuku has never been a secret, especially after Izuku’s repeated requests to train with the soldiers. "I do not need defective warriors in my unit," Kato had once spat at him. “You’re better off as a grunt.” 

Grunts, Izuku knows, are those who do the heavy labor for the troops. That includes cleaning, washing, and even maintaining the warrior’s weapons.

The final two council members are Matsumoto Yuki, one of the tribe’s war elders, and Fujikawa Akemi, the Diplomat responsible for dealings with other tribes and kingdoms.

“Welcome, everyone,” Chieftain Mitsuki addresses the table as Izuku and the Advisor take their seats. “Before we begin, I’m sure you know that my son, Katsuki, has officially become leader of his horde. As future Chieftain, he will now start taking on some of his future duties.”

Katsuki inclines his head in respect. “I am under your care.”

“He’s shown remarkable qualities as a dragon rider,” Fujikawa states. “His ruthlessness is exactly what we need for our riders.”

Katsuki’s face remains neutral, but, unless Izuku is mistaken, his eyes narrow slightly in a way that doesn’t seem pleased.

“Ruthlessness isn’t everything,” Matsumoto counters. “A good leader must be balanced.”

Fujikawa throws a sharp glare in Matsumoto’s direction, but before the argument can escalate, Chieftain Mitsuki interjects. “He will learn what’s necessary,” she says, cutting the tension. “But this meeting isn’t just about my son. Let’s move on. What’s the latest?”

“The traders from the south are expected to arrive next week,” Aizawa begins. “It’s good timing to stock up before winter.”

“What’s our ration status?” Chief Masaru asks.

“We’re in decent shape,” Aizawa replies, “but a couple of hunts would help ensure we’re prepared in case the winter is harsher than last year.”

Izuku nods, agreeing internally. Winters have been getting worse, and though the dragons provide heat, food could still run scarce.

“Call for the hunts,” Chief Masaru orders. “Forage and hunt. We can’t afford to let our food supply dwindle. I trust you to oversee them and report back as needed.”

Aizawa nods in agreement.

“The western border patrol needs more support,” Katsuki suggests, his voice calm but precise. “After the last encounter with wild animals, my horde’s patrol has noticed more signs of clustering in the area. I recommend sending extra ground troops.”

“I can spare a squadron,” General Kato adds, “but we need help covering the night watch. My men can’t shoulder the load alone.” Izuku’s gaze flickers to Katsuki, waiting to see if he’ll take the bait.

“We’ll provide aid at night,” Katsuki offers casually. He’s still, not unlike a leopard on the prowl. “Two dragons per night on patrol should suffice.”

“Two dragons per night,” Chieftain Mitsuki confirms, ending the debate. “Coordinate with Yamada for horde rotations. Report back if more is needed.” She turns her attention to Fujikawa. “What’s the status of our trade route with the Endeavor Kingdom?”

“In the works” Fujikawa answers “King Enji wants to raise the merchant toll for those entering Endeavor.” That doesn’t make sense. Does the King expect them to want to raise their own toll in return? Doesn’t seem very profitable, unless..

“He knows we’ll reject it,” Mirai-sani snaps, drawing the same conclusion. “It’s just an opening gambit. He wants something else.”

“He heavily implied he wants to have more frequent ambassador visits.” Fujikawa stated, “Longer stays, to strengthen culture exchange” with more time to stay close to all the council and the Chieftain. An Ambassador takes residence in the Keep when visiting. Living in the same place as the highest ranks in the tribe means being in the perfect place to overhear any important conversations.

“Private residence” Izuku mumbles, it would be a good idea to give the ambassador their own residence. It would be a gesture of respect on the surface, but both sides would understand it as a means of keeping the tribe’s inner workings hidden.

“Private residence” Mirai-san repeats out loud for the table to hear. Izuku looks at him in shock. “Honor the ambassador while maintaining distance”.

The Chieftain considers this, her gaze thoughtful. Izuku feels Katsuki’s stare boring into the side of his face. He does not meet his gaze.

“I’m open to the idea,” Chieftain Mitsuki says at last. “Good thinking, Mirai.” She turns back to Fujikawa. “Pursue that line of negotiation and report back.”

“Understood,” Fujikawa bows his head.

“I think that concludes our meeting,” Chieftain Mitsuki says, rising to her feet. “I expect updates when we next reconvene.”

Izuku gathers his journal, trailing behind the Mirai-san. No words of praise will come from Mirai; they never do. It doesn’t matter. Izuku knows he contributed, and that’s enough.

He tells himself it’s enough.