CHAPTER 1: THE TRACK FIELD There has always been an unreachable space between the two of them. Izuku pondered that thought as he stands on the other side of a chain-linked fence separating the track field and the sidewalk.

Katsuki was always high in the sky, touching the stars every time he jumped, while Izuku made his place on the ground, and the distance between them forever a constant.

There was nothing wrong with the ground. Izuku liked how the grass feels between his toes, how the page of a book flips through his fingers as he lays against a tree, all of the sort. But there was something about watching Katsuki as he pole vaults: running up to the line, then jumping, so high into the sky that Izuku wonders if he had wings.

It was only on the field that Katsuki had a calm demeanor on him. The concentration in those ruby eyes were evident, as was the intentionality of every movement. No ounce of energy was wasted in any unnecessary action. It was one of the few times where Katsuki was quiet.

In order to get home, Izuku had to walk past the track field every day, and Izuku found solace in the fact that it was one of the rare moments that he could look at the explosive male and not have it turn into an argument. He could even stand there and watch for a few minutes, and nothing would happen. He thinks: he’s probably been watching Katsuki like this for a few minutes every day since they were 11. That was 6 years after their friendship dissipated. And 7 years ago from today, as they were now both 18 in their final year of high school.

In a city as quiet as Ise, someone like Katsuki was a huge deal. The blonde, ever since he laid his hands on a pole, had been indestructible when it came to the sport. At first, it was light hearted praise: the young 11 year old who could get 14 feet of air on a pole vault and swept local competitions. He was a child prodigy, but people expected him to reach his peak soon enough. After all, small-town boy from a small school district: what’s the most that could happen