summary: Himiko just knows that Izuku is her soulmate.
word count: <1k.
c/w reincarnation, soulmates.
not available on ao3.
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Himiko kneels down, peeking her head over the edge of the roof. It was a cool day, but the sun was shining nicely and made her glad she went out today.
Especially because, down below, in the middle of the bustling crowds of the busy streets, is her Izuku.
Because, ever since she saw his cute freckles, her thoughts have been focused on him.
He's the /one/, she can tell without even speaking to him. (Not that she /doesn't/. He's so fun to tease.) But in her dreams, in the privacy of the dark of her mind, she remembers the way they were in their past lives.
She gets flashes of his soft smile and green eyes as he beams up at her, though they're teary as he bleeds out in her arms. The middle ages, she thinks.Ā
And she gets glimpses of timelines after that- perhaps even only one or two lifetimes ago where he presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her hand as they walk down the wedding aisle.
So many more of those visions, of their past lives, consistently float and bounce through her head. She loves her Izuku so /much/, she can't wait for him to remember, too!
Because they're /soulmates/.
And even though he's much younger here than in her memories, he's still hers. He'll remember soon! And he's so cute today! His curly hair sways with the wind as he laughs and walks with his friends. Towards the mall, it seems.
Himiko tilts her head, grin growing impossibly wider as he trips over nothing and stumbles. He only looks /cuter/ with that embarrassed blush on his face.
Himiko giggles to herself, soft and quiet. Then she hops back up onto her feet, making note of the direction Izuku is heading before she dashes down the utility stairs. She ducks and dodges the workers who yelp and try to grab her for trespassing, and quickly blends in with the huge Saturday crowd before anything could be done to stop her from 'accidentally' running in to Izuku.
Not that she /would/ let anything stop her. After all, she has her favorite knife strapped to her outer thigh blends in nicely, hidden by the thick layers of her skirt that hang past her knees. It has a bunny charm on the pommel!
Himiko skips ahead of Izuku, though she makes sure to keep him in her peripheral. Today her hair is red and short.
She usually prefers longer styles, but the person's blood that she took from was an easy mark. And she didn't want to be caught too soon, before she even got to touch Izuku!Ā
So, Himiko waits one or two street corners ahead of Izuku and his little friends. She fixes her hair, playfully twirling the short locks until they curl almost in the way that Izuku's ends do.
And while she waits, Himiko twirls on her heel, fluffing out her skirt as she stares at her reflection in the reflective shop window until it's just right.
Then, just as she's perfectly practiced in the privacy of her room, she steps too far back and loses balance. "I've got you!"
Arms circle her from the side, carefully rocking her forward and back to her feet. And the touch stays there as she nervously (/gleefully/) laughs at the genuine concern that Izuku shows.Ā
Oh she can't can't /can't/ wait until familiar, soul-binding recognition blooms behind them too, and they can be together again.
"Are you okay?" He asks, tender and soft exactly in the same way that Himiko remembers of their past lives.
She nods her head, hand reaching up to tuck back hair that isn't long enough to reach her ears.
His hands are warm against her hips and, all at once, she's overwhelmed with the attention. Oh, what a good day today is.
"I'm okay! Thank you, Izuku," she calls as she scampers off, hiding her blush behind the sleeves of her sweater- too thick even for the cool weather.
In her rush, she completely misses the way his eyebrows furrow and his calming smile warps into something more contemplative at the use of his given name.Ā
Izuku blinks as the young woman dashes off, head tilting at the peculiar way she holds herself. Something about it is soā¦ familiar, engrained firmly in the back of his brain.
"ā¦ Have we met beforeā¦?"
But she disappears before he can even reach a hand out to touch her again.
Happy holidays, can I offer some soft-but-questionably-healthy queerplatonic Togadeku to the 1-2 people on this site that are the same flavor of insane as me?
