Even as he lay on the soft covers of his bed, breath catching in his throat and mouth still filled with the sludge from his dream, he still found the strength to raise his hand, trail it over his body until it rested against the warm skin of his chest; the mark wasn't noticeable this way, the letters smooth and fitted right over the edge of his palm, the name of his soulmate curving onto the muscle and trailing onto his thumb. For him, it was an almost pathetically romantic position for the name to be. His palm. The very source of his strength and success. And integrated into it was the source of his comfort - Todoroki Touya. Or: Katsuki is still kidnapped. Katsuki still has issues. Only now, Katsuki has a soulmate.