Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Bakugou muttered, watching three guys bust open the glass doors of the bank, all dressed in black and carrying guns. “These fuckers are gonna make me late.” 

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!” The leader predictably yelled as the guns immediately aimed towards the crowd, causing shouts of alarm and fear as the employees behind the desks and the people milling about the front all hastened to lie on the floor. There was a lady standing in line behind Bakugou, carrying what had been a peacefully sleeping baby. Now, however, that baby burst into startled tears at all the sudden noise, hiccupping and wailing as the mother frantically tried to soothe it while also getting onto the ground herself. 

Bakugou lowered himself reproachfully, one eye watching the robbers and one eye watching the baby, who had instantly drawn the attention of everyone inside the bank. 

“SHUT UP!” One of the other robbers yelled, instantly silencing everyone except a few people sniffling, and, of course, the bawling child. He swung around, eyes narrowing in on the bundle in the woman’s arms. “Hey! Shut that thing up!”

The mother stiffened, cradling her baby tight against her chest as the robber came closer, gun aimed towards herself and her child. Bakugou cast a glance towards the other two robbers, the leader threatening one of the clerks while the other kept a watchful eye on the civilians. 

“Sh sh sh-” The mother rocked the baby, frantically glancing up and down from it to the robber. “It’s okay, it’s alright, shhh shhh.” Her voice trembled, and Bakugou’s lip curled from where he was sitting, not even fully lying down like most people. 

“I’m serious lady, if you don’t shut that baby up, then I will,” The robber threatened, waving his gun around in the exact way that you don’t want a gun-wielding maniac to do. 

“Hey! It’s a fucking baby, jackass.” 

The mother threw a startled glance at Bakugou, who was glaring heavily at the robber, showing no fear at the life-threatening device now being pointed at him. 

“You better keep your mouth shut,” The robber advanced on Bakugou, seemingly happy to have a target he could take his anger out on. “Or I’ll shoot you and that goddamn baby.” 

“Do you wanna go to jail for murder as well as robbery, dickhead?” Bakugou barked, squaring his shoulders and sneering. The robber growled, leaning over to put his face closer to Bakugou’s. Despite the fact that Bakugou was on the floor and the robber standing, Bakugou seemed just as big as, if not taller, than the man with the gun, his attitude and stature making up for the power imbalance of the moment. 

“I won’t be going to jail at all, you little shithead,” The robber seethed, despite the fact that Bakugou was not little at all, being every bit of six feet tall, with muscles to match. 

Bakugou watched out of the corner of his eye as the mother scooted away, whispering soothingly to her baby as it started to quiet down. “You will if you keep arguing me with instead of helping your fucking buddies,” Bakugou smirked, wanting to keep the guy’s anger focused on him and not the baby. 

“You fucking-” The robber was practically steaming out of the ears, and he pulled his arm back, turning the butt of his pistol forwards, but before he had a chance to swing, one of his teammates grabbed his wrist, yanking him back and away from Bakugou. 

“What the fu-” 

“Dude, don’t you recognize him,” The other robber hissed, his eyes, suddenly full of fear, fixed on Bakugou. “That’s Bakugou Katsuki, you idiot .” 

Instant confusion shot through Bakugou’s brain, but fortunately, he was well-versed in the practice of a resting bitch face, so his confusion did nothing to deter the smug, ‘fuck you’ look he had aimed at the first robber. But his thoughts were racing. 

How the fuck does he know my name? 

More importantly, why is he afraid of it ? 

The first robber, who Bakugou had personally dubbed, Small Dick, froze as his friend’s words suck in. You could almost see a loading sign swirling above his head, before he suddenly stumbled back, away from Bakugou. 

“Shit, fuck, oh shit-” 

“Yellow!” The first robber called, still clutching Small Dick’s arm. “We gotta get outta here, NOW!” 

The leader turned away from the bank teller he was pointing his gun at, irritation radiating off him. “The hell? Why?” 

Small Dick was still muttering curse words, eyes never leaving Bakugou, who, while not understanding why the robbers were afraid of him, was never scared of using a situation to his advantage. 

The second robber, the smart one, obviously, pointed at Bakugou as he started running to the door, dragging Small Dick behind him. “ He’s here!” 

Yellow dragged his eyes down to Bakugou who, upon reading the room, grinned, all teeth. “Run, fucker.” 

“Oh fucking hell,” Yellow muttered, before turning tail and following his friends, the three running from the bank like their lives fucking depended on it. Just like that, it was silent in the lobby as people stared nervously at the doors, like the robbers might change their minds and come back. 

Eventually, everyone started to stand up, checking on one another and calling loved ones, shaky from the experience they’d just had. Bakugou stood up, silent, his mind replaying the interaction over and over in his head. 

He held out a hand to the lady with the baby on the floor, barely looking at her as he pulled her up, and only grunting in acknowledgment when she tried to thank him, relieved tears on her face. He ignored the stares drilling into him from all sides, and he hurried out of the bank, the murderous look on his face preventing anyone from attempting to talk to him about what had just happened. 

What the fuck was that? 

Chapter Text

“Kacchan! You’re late!” 

Deku beamed, holding open his door and waving Bakugou in grandly, as if Bakugou wasn’t over at his apartment at least twice a week. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hold up at the fucking bank,” Bakugou muttered, trudging inside and nudging his boots off, lining them up neatly next to the scattered pairs of children’s (and adult's) shoes that littered the entryway. 

Before Midoriya had a chance to berate Bakugou for his language, the sound of tiny footsteps racing across the apartment sounded, and Bakugou couldn’t help the begrudging smile that wormed its way onto his face. 

Seconds later, a green and white haired blur barreled into his legs, immediately latching onto one of his shins and gripping it tightly, even as Bakugou stumbled dramatically, threatening to fall over from the force of a wild five-year-old. 

Deku laughed, already walking off to the kitchen, knowing that there was no use attempting to talk to his kid now that ‘Uncle Kacchan’ was here. 

Bakugou patted the head of the silent child now attached to his leg, hobbling awkwardly to the kitchen. To Bakugou’s chagrin, he could distinctly smell soba noodles cooking, and a spike of irritation already hit him. 

“If I walk into this kitchen and the only thing cooking is fu-freaking cold soba, I’m gonna kill you Icy-Hot,” Bakugou announced at the doorway, immediately zeroing on the blank-faced man standing at the stove, which was empty of anything save for the makings of fucking soba. 

“I was going to make curry, but Izuku told me it was better that I just let you do it,” Todoroki said evenly, his eyes glimmering with fondness when they fell on the kid currently hitching a ride on Bakugou. 

“Tch. Deku was right, you can’t cook worth shi-crap.” Bakugou grimaced, elbowing Todoroki aside and maneuvering around Deku and Todoroki’s kitchen with ease, despite the 45-pound additional weight around one ankle.  

“He’s gotten better!” Deku stuck his head around the corner of the living room, holding an abundance of items that Bakugou was almost positive he was attempting to hastily put up. 

“Not up to my standards,” Bakugou mumbled, before shaking his leg slightly. “Squirt, you want curry or soba?” 

“Is the curry spicy?” A muffled voice came from the direction of the ground. 

“I’ll make yours not spicy,” Bakugou offered, and felt Motomi’s head nod against his shin. 

Todoroki started talking about something- Bakugou wasn’t entirely sure, because he wasn’t really listening. He was still thinking about what had happened at the bank, only an hour earlier. 

Don’t you recognize him? 

While Bakugou knew there was a slim chance of being recognized thanks to Mitsuki’s fashion line, which he’s modeled a few times (after being heavily bribed), he couldn’t think of how those guys knew him. How one of them expected the other to recognize him. Implying that his face and name were common knowledge to them. 

He’s here!

The third robber didn’t even need his name, only a brief glance at his face before panicking, deciding to run altogether. What could it mean? 

“Kacchan! You’re on the news!” Deku’s high-pitched, panicked voice broke Bakugou out of his thoughts, and he had to resist the automatic urge to turn down his hearing aids. “When you said there was a hold-up at the bank, I didn’t know you meant a robbery!” 

Bakugou hadn’t, but it was funnier to imagine he had. 

Todoroki went into the living room, intrigued by what the news could be saying. Bakugou followed, motivated by one thing only. 

Do they know why those guys knew who I am? 

In the living room, Deku was standing incredibly close to the television screen, and as Todoroki came over, he tugged him back a couple of steps, scooting over to make room for Bakugou to come stand next to them. 

There was a reporter talking into the camera, and in the corner of the screen was a clip of security footage from the bank- why they were even airing that, Bakugou had no clue, but the sound was muted. 

“-and as you can see, it appears that the thieves chose to leave of their own violation after almost assaulting one of the customers of the bank. We’ve been unable to get ahold of them for comment, but it seems that no one was harmed during the incident.”

Bakugou grimaced. Great. You could clearly tell it was him in the video, and if the spiked blond hair and buff stature weren’t enough to give him away, the aggressive body language sure was. 

“They almost hit you!” Deku gasped, before casting a watchful eye at Motomi, whose eyes were on the TV screen. 

“But the other guy stopped them,” Todoroki pointed out, before perking up when a beep sounded from the kitchen. “Soba.” 

He immediately turned to head back into the kitchen, and Deku bent down to get level with Bakugou’s shins. “Go wash up before we eat,” He muttered to Motomi, who promptly let go of Bakugou and pattered off down the hallway. 

Deku watched him go before turning to Bakugou, who was attempting to escape back to his curry. “What they’d say to you?”

“Huh?” Bakugou grunted. 

“Come on, Kacchan. I could see they were talking to you, before they all suddenly left. What did they say ?” Deku’s face went still, his green eyes searching Bakugou’s face uncomfortably, mouth pressed into a hard line. 

He looked dangerous, or at least more dangerous than usual, and Bakugou was reminded of how much Deku had grown from the kid he knew years ago. Because this Deku- this one refused to be run over, or shoved aside. 

Bakugou sighed, annoyed that he knew he wouldn’t be able to derail Deku from the current topic. “Nothing important, nerd.” 

Deku gave Bakugou a look that would have any sane man wilting like a flower in the desert. Bakugou squinted. Silence stretched, the two men staring down one another, trying to get the other to back down through seer intimidation. Not a very effective tactic on someone who has seen you at your most embarrassing, but they were doing their best. 

Todoroki hovered in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, holding a pair of chopsticks over a bowl of cold soba. He looked between Bakugou and Midoriya, slurping his noodles slowly and obnoxiously. The sound of Todoroki eating was too much for Bakugou, and he finally threw his hands in the air, annoyed. 

“Agh! Goddamn Half-n-Half…” Bakugou trailed into annoyed grumbling before straightening up with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. They recognized me.” 

Midoriya’s brief look of smugness evaporated. “Huh? Did you know them?”

Bakugou shook his head. “That’s the damn thing, I didn’t. Those fuckers knew my name and everything.” Bakugou was quiet for a moment, debating. Then, “After one of them pointed out who I was, they all ran. They said my name with fear .” 

Before anyone else could say a word, Motomi sped back down the hallway, wasting no time in latching himself back onto Bakugou’s leg. He pinched Bakugou’s skin, glaring up at him. Bakugou sighed, knowing exactly what he wanted. “Alright, alright. Let’s go finish the damn curry.” 

Ignoring Deku’s call of, “Language!”, Bakugou shuffled back into the kitchen, almost grateful for the interruption Motomi had granted him, and decided he’d make dessert afterward in thanks. 

~~~

“Have you seen the news about the failed bank robbery a couple of hours ago?” 

A female voice bounced across what would be an otherwise silent room, save for the sound of the filter for the giant fish tank built into one of the walls. 

A grunt came from a massive chair behind a desk, its back facing the woman. The tips of spiked red hair could just be made out from over the top. “No.” There was a hum. “Why’re you telling me, Meens?” 

The woman giggled. “You should watch the security clip, it’s being aired everywhere right now. It’s got your favorite boy in it.” The woman’s voice then evened out, getting more serious. “It could lead to questions.” 

The person in the chair was silent. There was a creak, then the seat spun slowly, the light falling across a hulking figure, filling out the entirety of the chair, despite the fact that it could comfortably fit two, maybe even three, people. 

The figure stood up, his hair just barely brushing the ceiling. “Has Hanta seen it, yet?” 

The woman nodded, her bubblegum-pink afro bouncing with the vigorous movement. “Him and Hitoshi are waiting for you in the lab. Denks is out with Kyoka, but I sent them a message to head back. I think you’re gonna want everyone on this, Eijirou.” 

One of the most powerful men in the underworld of Japan nodded, his hand lightly squeezing the woman’s shoulder. His mind was filled with the image of one man, and one man only. “Let’s go watch that tape.”

Chapter Text

A part of Bakugou knew it was a stupid fucking plan. 

Not only was he straight up looking to get stabbed or some shit, but the chances of the encounter actually leading to anything were slim to none. After all, what were the odds that two different groups of criminals would know him on sight? 

~A Few Days Earlier~  

“We need you to come out and survey a site.” 

Bakugou paused from where he was heaving out a set of explosives from the back of his work van. He scowled, using his gloved hand to wipe his forehead as he straightened up to look at Uraraka. 

“Can’t you see I’m fucking busy?” 

“I meant tomorrow. The building’s supposedly incredibly dangerous, and the contractors requested you specifically.” Uraraka glanced at the clipboard in her hand. “They’re looking to give you an assload of money, though.” 

Bakugou smirked. “Wanted the best, did they?” 

He reached back into the van to continue lifting out the explosives, meant for a building he was planning to demolish in several hours. It was a small job, and Bakugou didn’t have anything better to do than plant the TNT at the markers around the site himself, even though he usually had others do that part. 

“Mhm. Anyways, let’s talk about that crazy ass clip they aired last night!” Uraraka tossed her clipboard into the front of the van before rolling her sleeves to help Bakugou, eager to hear anything resembling gossip. 

Bakugou groaned. “Who fucking cares?” 

The two of them set off walking to the sides of the building, carrying the heavy bundles of explosives. “Me and every news reporter trying to get ahold of you.” 

“You’re fucking telling me. I’ve already had four fucking calls today. And I have to go by the goddamned police station after this to write a shitty statement or whatever.” Bakugou dropped the TNT on a spray-painted X next to the side of the building before heading back to the van, Uraraka closely behind him. 

“What even happened?” 

Bakugou rolled his eyes before quickly summarizing the encounter, including his frustration at not being able to figure out where the robbers had known him from. 

“Of course, you’re angry instead of scared like a normal person would be,” Uraraka teased. 

Bakugou scoffed. “Those fuckers were afraid of me , so why the hell should I be scared of them .” 

“I didn’t say you had to be scared of them specifically. I’m just worried about how they knew who you are from your face alone. It isn’t exactly great that your face is common knowledge among criminals.” 

That’s it . 

Bakugou’s face didn’t move, and he continued to rib Uraraka back and forth as they finished carrying the explosives, but his mind had latched onto the comment she’d made. 

Common knowledge among criminals, eh? We’ll fucking see about that. 

Which brings us back to the present, where Bakugou is shoving himself out of his car and into the darkness of one of the seedier streets in Nagano. Bars and dark storefronts surrounded him, and he could hear all sorts of music being distantly played from several directions. The streetlights did little to illuminate the darkness, and Bakugou turned his back on the lights and drunk laughter coming from the closest bar. 

Instead, he faced the alleyway across the street, dark with shadows the moonlight couldn’t push away. Everyone knew that’s where nothing good happened. 

And here Bakugou was, willingly heading towards it. 

So yeah, it was a stupid fucking plan. 

But if there’s one thing Bakugou is, it’s stubborn, and hell will freeze over before he gives up on something he’s set his mind to. 

He’d only done that once, years and years ago, with a boy that felt like the sun. 

Bakugou shoved his hands deep into his pockets, hunching his shoulders as he walked swiftly across the street, allowing no time for second thoughts as he headed straight into the darkness of the alley. 

It wasn’t very far from where Bakugou had initially started out, but it may as well have been a different world altogether with the way the atmosphere changed the moment Bakugou was fully ensheathed in the shadows. 

There was a chill in the air, and the pungent smell of garbage and piss immediately invaded Bakugou’s nostrils, making him grimace. Bakugou thought he heard voices coming from the darkness, and it could have been paranoia, but he could have sworn there were eyes watching him as he began to make his way farther into the alleyway. 

There was the faint sound of a motorcycle revving from somewhere out on the street. Then, footsteps? 

Bakugou turned around swiftly, glancing behind him, only to see nothing. His hair glowed in the moonlight, and while it made him an easy target, it was something he’d counted on that would be recognized. 

Unless he was wrong about everything, in which case it just made him an easy target. 

A cat yowled in the distance. 

Bakugou began to walk slower, growing more suspicious and cynical with every step. 

Why had he thought this would lead to anything? This was just a waste of time, walking around in the dark like a fucking idiot- 

Rusty laughter echoed down the alleyway. 

Bakugou froze, narrowing his eyes and puffing out his chest, an ingrained instinct to make himself appear even bigger than he already was. 

“What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” 

Bakugou swung his head to his right, and saw someone melt out of the shadows, before two more figures immerged in front of him, all three of them stalking towards him. 

“Take a guess, fuckers,” Bakugou grunted, ad-libbing on the spot. 

“My guess,” A different voice said, coming from the tall and skinny one, “Is that you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” 

“My guess,” A sickly sweet female voice came from the shortest of the figures, “Is that you were looking for fun, and got us instead.” 

They swirled closer, and while Bakugou was sufficiently creeped out, he wasn’t afraid. Yet. 

“My guess,” Bakugou rumbled, “Is that you have some information that could help me.” 

The figures froze, and the first one came forward, bringing his face into the light. His skin was dry and cracked, and his hair hung limp and stringy on his head. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He hissed. 

Bakugou noticed the tall and skinny one fingering a knife. A tendril of fear crept it’s way into his mind. “You don’t recognize me?” Bakugou asked, lip curling as he got mad at his own human reactions. 

The girl inhaled, and Bakugou was more relieved than he would ever admit when she elbowed the tall man next to her. “Dabi, it’s the guy from the news. The one we’re not supposed to mess with.” 

“Why?” Bakugou suddenly interrupted, sensing a chance. 

The three of them had begun to take steps back at the girl’s words, but paused when Bakugou spoke up. “What do you mean, why ?” The first figure, the leader, asked. 

“Why is no one supposed to mess with me?” Bakugou demanded, taking a step forward, baring down in the leader’s face. “How does everyone know my name?” 

“Not everyone,” The girl giggled. “Just the people to be afraid of.” 

“Shut up,” The tall one, Dabi, suddenly snarled. “Last thing we need is to get Blood Riot on our asses. Come on.” He turned and abruptly started to head back deeper into the alley, and the girl pouted, following him. 

The leader hesitated, looking at the surprise in Bakugou’s eyes with the face of a kid who has just found out where Mom and Dad are hiding the Christmas presents. “You have no idea, do you?” He whispered. 

Bakugou’s shoulders hitched up defensively, suddenly feeling way out of his element. “Don’t know what, jackass?!” 

The leader laughed, raspy, like his throat was lined with gravel. “Imagine that. Blood Riot’s pet doesn’t even know he’s been collared.” 

Blood Riot? 

Before Bakugou had a chance to ask any more questions, the leader disappeared into the shadows as well, and there were a couple of silent moments where Bakugou debated going after them, before ultimately turning on his heel and hauling ass out of the alleyway. 

He technically got what he wanted, even if it only lead to more questions. 

Who is Blood Riot and how does he have me "collared"? 

Chapter Text

“YOU DID WHAT?!” 

Bakugou winced, and tried to smack Deku on the side of the head for being so loud. Of course, after years of this behavior, Deku easily saw it coming and dodged, but made no effort to tone down his reaction. 

“Chill the fuck out, nerd.” Bakugou, in turn, dodged the hands that were coming to clutch at his arm. “You’re drawing the attention of literally everyone in this fucking cafe.” 

The people at the surrounding tables were staring at the two of them, some with alarm, some with amusement. It didn’t help that the staff all knew Bakugou and Deku from how long and often they’d been coming there, so they had no reservations about being nosy and getting in Bakugou’s business. 

“Please don’t yell, Midoriya.” A soft voice came from the owner of the cafe, who, despite being as tall as Bakugou, had appeared beside their table suddenly and silently. 

“Sorry, Momo.” Midoriya sheepishly scratched the back of his head, ignoring the smug look Bakugou was sending him for being chastised. 

Momo sent a quick look around the cafe, which wasn’t very busy, before sliding onto the booth seat next to Midoriya, a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me what Bakugou did that was so shocking.” 

Bakugou groaned loudly and obnoxiously. “It doesn’t fucking matter, goddammit. It’s not even a big deal, Deku is just a baby.” 

Midoriya ignored the blatant insult, instead choosing to peer imploringly at Bakugou, sticking out his lip (as if he wasn’t a twenty-seven-year-old adult). “Pleeeeease Kacchan, can I tell her?” 

Bakugou glared, letting the silence stretch after Deku’s statement. A staring contest was held between the two of them, and Momo didn’t even bat an eye, seeing as this was how the two of them usually choose to settle their arguments- if they couldn’t fight it out in the moment. 

“I get Kotomi for the weekend.” Bakugou finally said, crossing his arms and leaning back, with what was unmistakably a pout on his face. 

“Deal!” Deku gave a wry grin and rolled his eyes. “Even though all you have to do is ask anyways, Kacchan.” 

“Whatever,” Bakugou grunted. 

Midoriya turned to Momo excitedly, wasting no time and already inhaling for the word vomit he was about to spit out. “So Kacchan wanted to know why the robbers from the bank- you saw the clip, right- the robbers from the bank knew his name so he talked to Ochako and then he went to go find criminals on his own because he thought it’d be a good idea to see if other criminals knew his name too and he went to this scary alley and ran into some people who also knew his name which is good news but also what if they hadn’t recognized him and he’d gotten hurt or stabbed or shaken down for money or-” 

“Deku!” Bakugou interrupted. “Stick to the fucking story.” 

“Right right sorry so anyways they knew who he was and said they couldn’t mess with him because they didn’t want to mess with Blood Riot. Now I have a couple of theories already about who that is since we don’t know-” 

“Shut it down, nerd. We’d be here all day if you kept going on.” Bakugou shoved Midoriya’s foot from under the table. 

Midoriya gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, sorry. Did you catch all that?” 

Bakugou and Midoriya glanced up at Momo’s face, only to find it frozen in shock, paler than usual with wide eyes. 

Midoriya laid a hand on Momo’s arm, peering up at her with concern. “Momo? Are you alright?” 

Momo blinked rapidly, trying to neutralize her expression into something less frightened. “Yes yes, I just- that’s quite a dangerous thing to do, is all. You could have been seriously hurt.” 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, staring at Momo. Something was off, and she knew that he knew it. She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the table over in her haste. “I have to get back to the customers, but please do be careful Bakugou.” She hesitated. “I think this could be much bigger than you realize.” 

She hurriedly walked into the back of the cafe, to the kitchen, leaving both Midoriya and Bakugou staring after her in confusion, in one case, and suspicion in the other.

Something about her parting words seemed familiar to Bakugou, and it wasn’t until later that night he would realize why. 

I think this could be much bigger than you realize. 

And then, words from the criminal in the alleyway. 

My guess, is that you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.  

Bakugou realized dully, that the reason they sounded so similar, was because they were both a warning. 

~~~

“Riot.” 

Kirishima looked up from the financial report in front of him, nearly groaning with relief that a distraction had come. But he furrowed his eyebrows when he saw Jirou standing in the doorway of his office. She usually didn’t make unannounced appearances, especially alone. 

Kirishima nodded to the chair in front of his desk. “What’s going on, Jacks?” 

Since Jirou had addressed him by his code name, he did the same back. 

Jirou slouched into the fancy chair, fiddling with the gauges in her ears. “Momo wants to talk to you,” She said without preamble. 

Kirishima’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He didn’t interact with Momo outside of gatherings, or the occasional times she’d come to pick up Jirou. “Why on earth does she need to talk to me?” 

Jirou’s face remained stone. “She’s out in the hall, I can bring her in. Trust me Riot, you’re going to want to hear this, now .” 

Kirishima’s face hardened. There were few things that his inner circle knew trespassed all other priorities, and there was only one possible option that Momo had anything to do with. 

“You can come on in, Yaoyorozu!” He called out, his voice easily carrying into the hallway. “Shut the door behind her,” He told Jirou in a much lower tone. 

The tall woman hurried into Kirishima’s office, looking uncomfortable and out of place, not that Kirishima could blame her. He felt a spike of sympathy, especially when he saw the immediate relieved look on her face when she saw Jirou getting up to greet her. 

And a tiny spike of jealousy, although he had so much practice at ignoring it by this time he hardly even noticed. 

“How are you, Yaoyorozu?” He asked warmly, motioning to the chair Jirou had previously occupied. 

“I’m alright, thank you. I’m terribly sorry to barge in like this,” She trailed off uncertainly, taking a quick look at Jirou, and, upon her urging, seemed to strengthen her resolve. She sat up straighter in her chair, setting her eyes on Kirishima. 

Kirishima had always admired the intelligence in those eyes, and he respected them now, the fact that they were here, despite the clear reluctance. After all, Yaoyorozu had refused to have anything to do with Kirishima’s enterprise, despite the direction invitation he’d extended her. Not that he begrudged her, of course. You had to respect her, steadfastly saying “No” to an, at the time, up-and-coming Oyabun of the yakuza. 

Then still saying “No” two years later, when he was gaining widespread notoriety. No matter that Jirou was part of the famous Blood Riot’s inner circle- Momo refused to get involved in their illegal dealings. And Kirishima held a great deal of respect for her because of it. 

“While normally I try not to meddle,” She started, folding her manicured hands in her lap, “This time I shall make exceptions, because I think…” She paused, then took a deep breath. “I think Bakugou could be in danger.” 

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Bakugou thought, the silence was too much. 

It was nights like this, he knew, that made his solitude hard to bear. Nights when he came home, an unusual buzz under his skin, only to walk into his empty apartment, devoid of noise, of laughter. The television wasn’t a good substitute for the need he sometimes felt to listen to other human conversations. 

He only tried going to a bar once, years ago, with the intent of finding a one-night stand. Someone to hold, someone to satisfy his brief stint of wanting. Someone to make him feel like he wasn’t stuck, like he wasn’t hung up on someone who didn’t want him. He didn’t even make it past their bedroom door before he made up an excuse and ran. 

Now, occasionally, he would swallow his pride and show up at Deku’s place, acting like they were the ones who wanted to see him suddenly, not the other way around. Even more rarely, he reached out to the old Squad, texting Pinky or Sparky and gruffly saying he had leftover food he had to get rid of before it went bad. 

He’d swallow his own teeth before admitting it, but those nights ached in the best and worst of ways. On one hand, he was reminded of the friends he had, even if they didn’t always interact, and the way it felt to be surrounded by vibrant energy and happy demeanors. On the other hand… Kirishima’s missing presence was impossible to ignore. And when everyone went home later in the night, well. It only made him think of the things he’d lost, he’d missed. Because he wasn’t good enough for a life like that. And Bakugou knew that, and it was okay. 

He was okay. He was okay when cleaning up his empty apartment alone. He was okay when there was nothing left, nothing but his thoughts. He was okay when he gave in, when he went to the back of his closet, and pulled out a box he’d rather die than tell anyone about. And he was okay when he pulled out the last traces of Kirishima left in his life. A hoodie, far too small for him now, meant for a teenage boy. A stuffed dog, some shitty prize won at the fair. A stupid notebook, full of half-assed notes and silly doodles of Bakugou and Kirishima holding hands. A bracelet, a guitar pick, random fucking rocks that supposedly “looked cool”. 

Last, but most important of all. A photo album. 

Bakugou was okay here, too. He was okay as he traveled back a decade in time, when they were both seniors in high school, naive and brave and in love. 

Kirishima, presenting him with slightly crushed flowers. 

Kirishima, sharp teeth flashing in the light as he laughed, admitting he had no idea how to do the math homework. 

Kirishima and him, playing round after round of air hockey at the arcade, because the other person kept winning every other time. 

Kirishima and him, but with everyone else, too. Eyebags, Sparkplug, Tape Face and Pinky, plus Ears. The first time Kirishima convinced him to do one of their weekly “Squad Nights”. The way he’d thought he would never find friends like that, then for once being happy he was wrong. 

Himself, snatching up Kirishima’s hand, heart pounding and face red. 

Kirishima, pressing kisses into the corners of his lips. 

Kirishima, holding him after he’d wake up screaming, nightmares etched in his dreams. 

Him, cradling Kirishima’s face, telling him he was worth everything to Bakugou. 

“I love you”s traded back and back as skin touched skin for the first time, bodies as together as they could be. 

Looking at carefully preserved photographs, featuring spiked red hair and smiles full of sharpened teeth. Sometimes with the Squad in them, as well. Before Bakugou screwed up everything, before Bakugou tainted everyone around him with his thoughts. 

Missed phone calls. 

Kirishima’s nervous laughter and head scratches. 

Excuses by the dozens. 

Bakugou trying, for the first time in his life putting all his effort into something and failing regardless. 

Plans falling through. 

Promises of another time. Another day. 

Bakugou breaking down to Mina one night, after she kept pushing, him crying and pummeling a boxing bag as he admitted that he thought Kirishima didn’t want him anymore. 

Mina telling Kirishima. 

Kirishima pulling Bakugou aside with tears in his eyes. 

Bakugou shaking his head, staring stubbornly at the ground, shoulders hunched and throat dry. Hands not sweating for once, but shaking. 

Kirishima crying, apologizing. 

Kirishima trying to explain, laying a gentle hand on Bakugou’s shoulder as he gave carefully formulated reasons for why they couldn’t be together anymore. 

Bakugou, reeling back, calling up rage to replace the gaping hole of hurt in his chest. 

Bakugou ignoring Kirishima for the rest of their senior year. Bakugou no longer going to Squad Nights. 

Kirishima, who Bakugou could see was struggling worse than usual in class, always being called to stay after the bell rang. Bakugou, heart hurting, continuing to make copies of notes for Kirishima, done specially to help make the information stick. Bakugou leaving it on his desk before Kirishima got there. 

Kirishima’s grades going up to Cs and Bs, instead of straight Fs. 

Pinky, grabbing Bakugou’s arm, asking him to come get dinner with her and Ears. 

Bakugou, slowly hanging out with the Squad again. Everyone except Kirishima. 

Bakugou graduating top of his class, not even showing up to the graduation ceremony, because all he could think about was how Kirishima had promised they’d graduate together. 

Bakugou, grateful for the way Pinky would let him know if Kirishima was doing alright over the years without making him ask. 

Bakugou, still always seeing red wherever he goes. 

And, Bakugou, being completely and undeniably okay, didn’t yearn for a life ten years passed. He didn’t dwell on the things he could have changed, could have done right. And he certainly didn’t cry, looking at the only memories he had left of the love of his life. 

Kirishima never wanted to cry, either. 

Not when he knew Bakugou still talked to everyone but him. Not when he looked around a room full of his closest friends, and still felt someone missing. Not when he watched Denki kiss Shinsou. Not when he saw Jirou’s secret smiles when Momo texted her. Not when he saw All Might merch, and not when someone talked about romance manga. 

Of course not. After all, Kirishima told himself. He didn’t deserve to cry, not when everything was all his fault in the first place. 

~~~

Friday morning, and Bakugou was feeling alright. He was getting Kotomi that evening for the weekend, after all, and although he’d deny it, seeing that kid always raised his mood. He had lunch with Uraraka, the two of them snickering in the break room as they made fun of every incompetent worker in the department. 

Once they were finished with lunch, Uraraka left, after thanking Bakugou profusely for the homemade mochi he’d brought. He only grunted, grabbing his stuff and starting to head out the door after her. 

He passed two of his colleagues, just extras who worked with the boring shit, like zoning regulations, on the way in. Bakugou wasn’t planning on eavesdropping, but the sound of Uraraka’s name had him freezing, narrowing his eyes and getting ready to kick someone’s ass. 

He froze when he realized what they were really talking about. 

“-to Uraraka. It’s embarrassing, honestly. He’s gotta know that there isn’t shit he can do to make her wanna date him .” A high-pitched laugh, not unlike the sounds a monkey makes. 

“There isn’t shit he can do to make anyone wanna date him, man. Come on, with that attitude? I mean, I don’t give a shit that he apparently cooks like a god, or even if he’s fantastic in bed- that personality? That’s an immediate ‘no’ for anyone, dude.” The other guy snorted. 

“I don’t know, have you seen his ass? And he’s got tits as big as a chick’s.” The first guy started chewing food as he talked. 

“Bro, there’s plenty of girls who look like that and who don’t bite your head off anytime you come near. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’d hit.” 

There was silence, before roaring laughter from both of them echoed from the break room, the door finally swinging shut. 

Bakugou stood in the hallway, knuckles white with the grip he had on his bag. He was shaking, and there was static roaring in his head from all the different emotions he wasn’t used to feeling. It took him a moment to understand why he felt like he was gonna throw up or start crying. 

He was embarrassed, and his feelings were hurt. 

Maybe because of just how close to home their comments had hit. 

Any other time, Bakugou would have busted back into the break room, and broken both of their noses for being such pieces of shit. Instead, he turned around and started rapidly heading towards his office, sickness rising in him, their words echoing. 

There’s plenty of girls who look like that and who don’t bite your head off anytime you come near.

Bakugou blinked, and he was in his office, with no recollection of getting there. He collapsed against the wall, feeling dizzy, and wondering what the hell was going on. 

There isn’t shit he can do to make anyone wanna date him, man. 

Distantly, Bakugou thought he should call somebody. 

Have you seen his ass? 

It occurred to Bakugou that he didn’t even know who to call. 

Even if he was fantastic in bed- that personality? That’s an immediate ‘no’ for anyone, dude.

Bakugou wondered what that wheezing noise was, then realized it was coming from him. As if he was disjointed from his body, Bakugou watched his own hand digging in his bag for his phone with no feeling of being the one to move it. He barely even registered going to his contacts and clicking the person who had the highest chance of not doing anything right then that he felt could help him. 

~~~

“And I told him he could suck my-” 

🎵 We are living in a material world, and you are a material girl 🎵

Mina cut herself off as a heavy metal version of Madonna’s song rang out from her phone and all eyes in the room looked at her as she started digging through her purse, slightly frantic. 

“New ringtone?” Sero snickered from where he was lounging on the couch with Kaminari, a slice of pizza in his hand. 

“No, no- it’s- fuck where is- FOUND IT-” Mina shot up from her armchair, ignoring the questioning stares as she hurried to answer her phone. “That’s Bakugou’s ringtone-” 

Simultaneously, every eye in the room slid to Kirishima, who dwarfed the giant beanbag he was currently lounging on, and whose pizza slice was dangerously close to sliding to the floor. 

“Hey Bakubabe, what’s u-” Mina once cut herself off, her face going slack as her eyes widened as she listened to whatever was happening on the other end of the line. “It- That doesn’t matter. Are you okay?” 

As she spoke, Mina hurried to the door, grabbing her heels and slipping them on, almost falling over until Jirou hurried over to steady her. The room was tense and silent, everyone flabbergasted by Mina’s reaction. 

“It’s alright babes, hold on I’m on my way, okay? Gimme ten minutes and I’ll be there.”

Sero, who had reacted fastest, was already holding out Mina’s purse, bringing it to her as she attempted to rush out the door. Kirishima was on his feet, standing at the door in a second. 

“What happened? Is he okay? Does he need-” 

“He’s not hurt. I’m going over to his place, I’ll text you guys later.” The expression on Kirishima’s face would have daunted anyone else trying to get past him, but not Mina, who merely squeezed past him since she had no hope of moving him out of the way. 

Before anyone else could say a word, she was gone, and the room was silent before Shinsou dared to say what everyone else was thinking. “Bakugou never calls.”

Chapter Text

Bakugou didn’t remember making it home. 

Distantly, he knew it was only around two thirty in the afternoon, and that he’d ditched work hours early. He knew that he called Mina, and while he couldn’t have told you what the conversation entailed, he knew that a sense of relief was coursing through him at the thought of her. He also knew that he felt empty, torn open for his insides to fall out. Feelings mixed with entrails, spilling out into the open for everyone to see. 

He shed his work clothes once in his bedroom, catching a glimpse of his body in the mirror. While he usually observed his figure with pride, the sight of it now made him nauseous. 

I don’t know, have you seen his ass? And he’s got tits as big as a chick’s. 

Bakugou turned away, and pulled on the baggiest clothes he owned without looking down at himself. He shuffled back out into his living room, then wrapped himself in the fluffy blanket he kept lying across the back of the couch. 

He collapsed onto the cushion, burying his face into the fabric. And he finally let the tears come. 

~~~

Mina let herself into Bakugou’s apartment, panic fueling her motions. Panic because, on that phone call, Bakugo sounded like he was two words away from tears. There was only a single time Mina Ashindo had ever seen Bakugou cry, and that was ten years ago (and a part of her felt like he’d never been the same since).

“Bakugou?” She called out, taking off her shoes and leaving them at the genkan in the entranceway, which, she noticed with increasing worry, had Bakugou’s shoes haphazardly tossed in- an action he despised when seen in others. 

There was a sniffle, then the sound of someone gruffly clearing their throat before a shaky voice, clearly trying not to sound shaky, spoke up from the living room. “In here.” 

Mina noticed with worry that the voice was thick with tears. 

She hurried into the living room, glancing around somewhat frantically before noticing a gray bundle of blankets on the couch, with a tuff of blond hair peeking out from the top. She slowed her approach, lowering her voice as she bent closer to Bakugou’s mostly covered head. 

“Hey, love. You doing alright?” 

While never a problem before, the pet name seemed to trigger something in Bakugou then, because the red eyes glaring at her from the top of the blanket suddenly filled with tears, to Mina’s alarm. 

And to Mina’s surprise, Bakugou merely shook his head in answer to her question instead of denying an obvious truth, or deflecting, or any other of the thousand Katsuki Bakugou Patented Strategies to Avoid Talking About Feelings. 

Mina squished up next to Bakugou on the couch, grabbing his blanket-wrapped form and maneuvering it to where his head was resting somewhere near her shoulder. Bakugou tensed at the contact initially (like he always did), then slowly relaxed, sinking further into the gray bundle. 

He drew in a ragged breath, and even though he was trying to hold it together, hold it in, this was one of the few times he was powerless to stop the flood of emotions as well as the words that come with them. “Do you think… someone will ever want me?”

Mina couldn’t have been more shocked if Bakugou had grown wings and started flying around the room. She was glad he couldn’t see her face, because the expression she was wearing probably would have made him mad, seeing as it resembled one of the things he hated most. 

Brokenhearted for the man lying next to her. 

“Of course, Blasty. You have tons of people who want you,” Mina said softly. 

Bakugou shaked his head as best he could, frustration bubbling in his chest. “No, not like- not like that.” 

A brief moment of silence before, for what was probably the first time ever, Bakugou offered up information without being pressed. “They said that my personality meant no one would ever want to date me,” Bakugou rasped, tears involuntarily filling his eyes again, no matter how hard he tried to keep them out. 

“They said there was nothing that could make anyone want to date me at all,” He continued, voice thick, his body starting to shake as he spoke unconsciously. 

“They said it didn’t matter that my-” Bakugou cut himself off with a choked sound, and Mina thought it was possibly the most heart-wrenching sound she’d ever heard. 

She combed a hand through Bakugou’s hair, trying to encourage him to keep speaking as well as stalling, trying to gather the mess of thoughts that had exploded in her mind. 

After a few seconds of sniffles, Mina ventured to say, “Keep going sweetheart. I’m listening.” Trying to stay level-headed, trying to stay calm for the sake of the man crying in her arms. 

Bakugou curled in on himself as much as he could in his current position. He took in a shuddering breath, an action so unlike him it almost made Mina think she was holding Denki for a moment instead. 

“They said I look like a chick,” He whispered, sounding so heartbroken that Mina felt bad she didn’t immediately realize what he meant. 

“What, uh, what do you mean?” She tried to be as delicate as she could. 

Another deep inhale. “They said even though I had tits and an ass like a girl’s, it wasn’t worth dating me for,” Bakugou’s voice, uncharacteristically small, was shaking like a leaf, and it hardly took a second for his body to follow suit. 

Mina’s world froze. For one, two seconds, her brain buffered, trying to process the inhuman amount of rage that suddenly welled up in her system. 

Someone will pay for this. 

There was a brief war in Mina’s head on what to do, what to say next. The need to comfort Bakugou won out quickly. “Oh my fucking god,” She muttered, immediately tightening her arms around him, digging her nose into his hair. 

“I’m gonna kill them,” She muttered. “Listen to me, Bakugou.” 

Maybe it was the use of his actual name that did it, but when Mina pulled away so she could look Bakugou in the eyes, he was looking back. She tugged the blanket away from his face so she could wrap her hands over his cheeks. 

“You are one of the smartest, kindest, bravest, strongest people I know. You are worth everything to me, and to others as well. That shit is a fact . Anyone would be so incredibly lucky to date you, and the rest of the world has no idea what they’re missing out on, alright?” Mina’s voice was stern, leaving no room for argument. 

She saw the look in Bakugou’s eyes and knew he was still thinking of one thing, though. Feelings and thoughts she’d buried from an incident long ago rushed to the surface, and words she’d sat on for years finally burst through her mouth. 

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but Kirishima was a fucking idiot. You hear me, Blasty? Kirishima was an absolute moron for letting you go and it was the biggest mistake he’s ever made. It wasn’t your fault . You did everything right, okay?” Mina swallowed as she saw tears overflowing from Bakugou’s eyes, so empty without the spitfire that usually resided in them. 

“He’s never forgiven himself for losing you, and I don’t think he ever will. You were, and still are, an amazing friend and the most genuine person I know, and everyone should be on their goddamn knees begging for a chance with you.” Her voice got thick, and she suddenly wiggled her arms under Bakugou’s blanket so she could crush him in a hug, everything in her aching for him. 

Bakugou broke down as he curled into Mina, for the first time in his entire life letting out gut-wrenching sobs- the messy, can’t breathe, hiccupping, sounds-like-a-horse-dying, loud as hell sobs. 

Something a lot like gratitude flowed from him, and one thing Bakugou had always loved about Mina was that she could understand him, even when he communicated without words. 

~~~ A Little Bit Later 

“I’ve gotta pick up Kotomi from stupid Deku’s anyways. You don’t have to stay with me or anything,” Bakugou muttered, drying off his face and adjusting his clothes before walking with Mina to the door. 

Mina didn’t even hesitate before answering. “As long as it’s okay with Kotomi, I wanna stay! Let me just go and pick up some stuff from my place real quick, and I’ll grab food on the way back.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes as Mina winked, even though he felt a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He forced it down, turning it into an unconvincing scowl. “Fine, I’ll ask him. But I pick the food. Sparkplug has lowered your expectations of what’s acceptable to eat.” 

Mina giggled as they walked out of Bakugou’s apartment. “Deal! See you in a bit, Blasty!”

~~~

The Squad were all still in the lounge room at the base, unwilling to part until Mina returned. Kirishima sat in silence for those hours, and a distant part of him thought about how, years and years ago, when he was nervous or afraid, he’d stutter a laugh or scratch the back of his head. Now, he just sat in an unnerving silence.

Anyone who wasn’t the Squad would have already pissed themselves in fear, but, as it was, everyone just gave him a wide berth. Denki and Hanta were playing a half-hearted game of Smash. Jirou and Shinsou were going over paperwork and plans for the raid next month. 

And Kirishima was watching Mina’s location dot on their group tracker, narrowing his eyes when he finally saw her leave Bakugou’s house after three hours. She was heading back to the base, he could see. 

They only had to wait another fifteen minutes before Mina burst back in through the door without warning, panting, with her heels in her hand from where she’d obviously taken them off to run down the hallway. Everyone snapped to attention, and Kirishima leapt to his feet entirely. 

“I don’t want to stay too long, I’m going back to stay with Baku for the night, I just wanted to talk to you guys for a second,” Mina finally said after she caught her breath, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. 

She walked over and sank into her armchair, silent for a long moment, before she sniffled, rubbing at her eyes. “Sorry, I just- it killed me seeing him like that and-” 

She scrubbed up and down her face, and Kirishima bit his tongue, holding himself back from interrogating her when she obviously wasn’t okay. Sero came over to rub her shoulder as everyone exchanged concerned glances, trepidation mounting. 

She started reaching into her handbag, digging around before pulling out a scrap of paper, holding it out in the direction of Kirishima. “I don’t have last names but I’m sure you don’t need them.” 

Kirishima’s eyes widened, but everyone took a moment to realize what she was saying. Shinsou recovered fastest, and said, tone dark and hard, “What did they do to him?” 

Kirishima felt rage start to boil in his hands. 

Mina sucked in a breath, before shaking her head a little and straightening up in her chair. “He overheard them talking about him when he was at work. And it was just so- he looked so heartbroken when he told me what they said.” 

Before anyone could ask, she continued. “Evidently, they were fucking laughing to each other,” Anger started to take over the trembling sadness in her voice, “About how his personality and attitude make him undateable.” 

An intake of breath from all around the room. Kirishima felt the rage traveling fast now, up his arms. 

“They said this fucking disgusting shit about his body, and said even that wasn’t worth dating him for.” Mina’s hands clenched, pressure turning brown knuckles even darker. 

“And I came over, and he was just so fucking… hopeless . I’ve never seen him like that before-” Her voice cracked, her lip trembling. 

Kirishima felt the anger wrapping around his heart, encasing it. 

“He said it-” Here she really did stop for a moment, her eyes welling up again. “He said they were right , that it hit too close to home-” 

Kirishima breathed out heavily as the anger completed its journey, seeping into his brain, saturating his thoughts. 

The room was silent when Kirishima moved, turning to Sero and giving him the piece of paper with only a glance. “Find me their addresses. Now.” 

His voice was iron, cold, without a hint of emotion. It sent shivers down everyone’s backs. Sero nodded before darting out of the room, giving Mina a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving. 

“I’m going to suit up.” His eyes, blank, not even filled with rage, turned on Mina. “You get back to Bakugou. Don’t worry about those pigs .” 

He laid a giant hand on her shoulder. Jirou and Denki exchanged a look, both of them hesitant, unsure of who they were looking at. Even when Kirishima became Blood Riot… never had any of them seen this expression on his face- the absolutely fucking terrifying mask of nothing. 

Mina looked up at Kirishima, a thousand emotions playing in her eyes, not a single one of them reflected in Kirishima’s. He let go of her shoulder, turning to walk away. His fingers were ice cold. 

Kirishima paused in the doorway, and in that moment, his friends were reminded of who Kirishima could be, if he really wanted to. What he could become.

“I’ll make sure they pay.”

Chapter Text

Kirishima knew that there were parts of his job best left undescribed. He knew sometimes things could get bad, could get sickening. 

It always hurt when his victims had kids. Kirishima peered at the two profiles Sero had put together for him. One of the men had two ankle-biters, and Kirishima almost felt a stab of pity, of sympathy. 

But Mina’s words rang in his head. 

He said they were right . 

That pity disappeared before it even took hold. 

After all, lessons had to be taught. 

The other man, Kirishima learned, would be much easier. Single and childless, living alone. Imada Hitomi, the perfect place to start. Behind a black mask reminiscent of an oni, sharp teeth split into a grin.

~~~

Between two and three in the morning was the perfect time, in Kirishima’s opinion. 

Even the people who stay up late usually fall asleep by this time, and the early risers aren’t quite awake yet. Which makes it the perfect time to commit any… unsavory activities. 

Kirishima knelt on the roof of the apartment building adjacent to Imada’s balcony. He watched through the window from above as a young girl, surely under twenty, picked up her belongings inside and unsteadily made her way out of Imada’s front door and down the metal stairs to the street below. It didn’t take long until a car pulled up, which she slid into. It zoomed away, gone as fast as it had arrived. 

Kirishima’s lip curled in disgust. 

Fortunately, he’d be taking care of this scumbag. Permanently. 

Effortlessly, Kirishima made his way to the roof of Imada’s apartment building, then climbed down one balcony, and silently picked his way across the metal over to Imada’s front door. He watched the kitchen light click off from behind the blinds. Perfect. 

He tested the knob. Unlocked. 

It was almost too easy. 

Quickly, Kirishima opened the door and slipped inside, immediately locking the knob behind him. It only took a couple of seconds for a man wearing only a pair of ratty pajama pants to thud his way back down the hallway to burst into the main room of the apartment, consisting of the living room, which Kirishima made his way across in three big steps, and the kitchen, where the hallway let out to. 

Moonlight shone in through the kitchen window, left uncovered entirely, and it illuminated the hulking figure Kirishima made, twice the size of the scrawny man staring with a wide open mouth, frozen as Kirishima immediately advanced halfway across the room. Imada- for that’s who the man certainly was- suddenly blinked rapidly, fear taking its rightful place upon his face. 

“W-Who are you?!” His voice was high and hysterical, as he backed up steadily, sliding along the counter in the kitchen as if he could escape Blood Riot . Kirishima knew what Imada was heading for, and his face widened into a grin that was all teeth as he looked at the knife block a foot behind him. 

A kitchen knife wouldn’t put a dent into what was about to be done to him. 

Fire filled Kirishima’s veins, and he relished in the cold rage flooding through his system. It had been a long time since he’d been this angry, this willing to ignore common sense and his own book of rules in favor of letting his instincts take hold. 

He couldn’t wait to feed off his screams. 

Imada was shaking, his eyes wide and terrified as he watched the hulking figure stalk closer, a monstrous shadow in the moonlight coming through the kitchen window. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, dude?” Kirishima hardly blinked as Imada turned swiftly to yank a random knife from the wooden block behind him, then held it out in front of him with a faltering grip in both hands. 

How does it feel to know you’re prey? 

Kirishima’s grin grew as he continued walking forward, slowly, until the tip of the knife was pressing against his chest, a wall of solid muscle. Imada’s eyes were comically large as Kirishima leaned forward, towering a foot over him, letting the knife dig into his skin, creating a deep indent. It didn’t even draw blood. 

Kirishima hummed. “Consider this…payback. For a certain… friend of mine.” 

Imada flinched at the sound of his voice, gulping as his face paled. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve gotta have the wrong guy.” 

There was a thrill beginning to run through Kirishima now, the high of being feared, of having power . The high of knowing that are no laws that can bind you, no rules you have to bow to. The high of knowing that you are the highest form of retribution, and that you will administer justice how you see fit, with no one to tell you otherwise. 

Because that was the thing about power, Kirishima had learned. It was only a mental concept. The illusion of control could be all too easily snatched away. And power was useless without control. 

“Oh, I don’t think I do,” Blood Riot rumbled, because he wasn’t Kirishima, not anymore. 

“L-Look man, what’s the name of the friend? I p-probably don’t even know who they are.” Imada's voice was trembling as much as he was, and Blood Riot let his terror soak into his bones, drinking it in like century-old wine. 

Riot grinned. He’d play Imada’s game. “You work with him,” Riot said in a sing-song voice, looking over Imada like he was a menu, thinking of just what exactly he’d like to do to him first. 

Because this wouldn’t be ending anytime soon. 

“I-I’m friends with everybody at my workplace-” 

“I’ll give you a hint,” Riot interrupted, leaning down uncomfortably close to Imada’s face, close enough to feel his breath huff against his face. “His name starts with a B.” 

Riot watched the confusion sit for a moment, then abruptly melt away from Imada’s face, and it was so gratifying that a part of him wished he could have caught it on camera. Riot saw the very moment Imada realized who he was talking about, and anything in his eyes that resembled hope was gone in an instant. 

Riot jerked one hand out, grabbing Imada’s throat like a vise as he snatched the knife from his childlike grip, tossing it to the side in the next second. Liquid spread down the front of Imada’s pants, and the stench hit the air moments later as Riot pinned Imada against the cabinet with only one hand on his neck. His hands scrabbled usually at Riot’s rock-hard skin. 

Riot rolled his eyes. How pathetic. 

“Still don’t know who I’m talking about? Or have I jogged your memory?” Riot’s voice grated on ears like a blade on concrete. 

Riot’s grip made sure not to completely cut off Imada’s airway, and he wheezed out a breath, saying, “Y-You have…But…” 

A grin spread across Riot’s face, and had its intent been to leave a person filled with fear, empty save for the terrifying pit of darkness they knew was waiting for them, well then. Consider it a success. 

“Then you understand why this has to hurt,” Riot said, voice calm and measured as he reached out with his free hand to the same knife block Imada had used to try and defend himself earlier, only he grabbed one… better suited to the task. 

Imada made a strangled noise, the one people make when they’re not getting enough air in their lungs and it’s starting to make them panic. 

With lightning speed, Riot took his hand off Imada’s neck and latched it onto his mouth instead, gripping the entire bottom half of his face with one enormous hand as he took a greedy inhale of air through his nose. Riot didn’t want Imada to pass out before the fun really began. And, after all, he couldn’t have him screaming. 

Riot didn’t even feel the hands Imada had clenched around his wrist, still gripping despite the failure of his futile efforts to pry Riot’s hand away from his face. It was pathetic, really, how quickly Imada ceased fighting against him. Now he was just wiggling around fruitlessly, muffled sobs coming from his mouth, snot and tears running down his face. 

A burning rage started to take over Riot’s veins, and he could feel the bloodlust taking over, his emotions boiling down to one thought, one feeling. No room for logic, reason, or even mercy. 

There was nothing left but an animal wearing his skin. 

No words were left for him to say, no actions left to ponder. Because what was standing in his place was little more than a monster. And everyone knows monsters only want one thing. 

To dominate. 

When the police found Imada’s body the next morning, the face was so unrecognizable that they had to use fingerprints to identify him. 

Chapter Text

“Stupid shitty meetings,” Bakugou griped, walking next to Uraraka as they hurried down to the main office for an impromptu meeting with all employees. 

“It could be something important, you know.” Despite her words, Uraraka looked annoyed, too, and for good reason, seeing as this meeting was going to be putting them at least thirty minutes behind schedule. 

“It’s never anything that matters with these morons. Only time we hear from them is when they’re docking pay or hiring new managers.” Bakugou’s shoulders were hunched with his hands shoved into his pockets, and he impressively managed to look like a delinquent despite the fact that he was wearing a crisp button-up shirt and slacks like everyone else. 

“You know, you were one of those new managers, too.” 

The two of them walked into the meeting room, and Uraraka noticed with worry the pinched expressions of three men standing at the front of the room, whispering to themselves. 

“Is that the damn CEO?” Bakugou muttered from next to her, his gaze on a woman in the corner of the room, standing and observing the employees filing into the rows of folding chairs that had obviously been hastily arranged. 

Uraraka gave Bakugou an odd look. “You know what the CEO looks like?” 

Bakugou waved a hand flippantly at her. “Of course I do. I’m gonna take her fucking job, after all. Only makes sense I need to know who I have to beat.” 

Uraraka rolled her eyes as Bakugou scowled. “Not everything is a competition.” 

“Life’s a competition,” Bakugou retorted as they sat down in the admittingly nice folding chairs, if any type of folding chairs could even be considered nice. 

There were a few minutes of quiet chatter and the sound of shuffling chairs, before just about everyone Bakugou had ever seen in his department was settled in the room, silence falling as the CEO and the three men in the front of the room moved expectantly to stand front and center. 

Bakugou glanced around without moving his head, noticing with suspicion that several people looked distressed, and a few even had red-rimmed eyes. 

Do they already know what the hell this is about? 

The CEO cleared her throat, and the last few noises in the room died down. “Good morning. Thank you for coming in on such short notice. I wish I had better news to share today, but I’m afraid that is not the case.” 

She inhaled a deep breath, and Bakugou exchanged a brief look with Uraraka. 

What the fuck is going on? 

“We are deeply saddened to announce the loss of two fellow workers, Imada Hitomi and Seno Tadao. Some of you may have heard this news by now, but two days ago we were informed that they were tragically murdered Friday night.” 

Gasps filled the room, and Bakugou felt himself freeze. 

There was no way. 

Voice continued in the background, whispers and exclamations blurring together as Bakugou’s mind pitched clearly to only three days prior. 

Mina’s voice, crossed between fury and distress. “Who were they?” 

Bakugou, clearing his throat, scowling down at the blanket in his lap. “Fucking Imada and Seno. Shitheads.” 

Mina cradled Bakugou’s head to her chest, running her hand through his hair. He needed the comfort, though he’d deny it if asked. “Don’t worry, Blasty. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Everything was starting to fog together, making too much sense while at the same time making none. Bakugou stared blankly, a million details coming together in his mind at once to form a bigger idea. 

Criminals afraid to cross him- 

No one wanting to upset someone called Blood Riot- 

Two men who he overheard making comments about him- 

Sobbing to Mina- 

Murdered that very night- 

Something not unlike horror was creeping into Bakugou’s bones, peering over his shoulder at the connections he couldn’t ignore. There were too many overlaps for it all to be a coincidence. 

Bakugou vaguely registered the words still being spoken over the rushing in his ears. 

“-heavily debated sharing this information, but seeing as you likely would find out later, we have decided to inform you that the killer is still at large, and while the police have been very tight-lipped on the subject, they have stated that it was likely the work of a local gang…” 

Uraraka laid a hesitant hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, watching with worry as he turned pale, his face wearing an expression so foreign it almost looked fake. 

“Blasty?” She whispered. 

There has to be a logical explanation. There’s no fucking way it’s what it looks like. 

“Bakugou?” Uraraka’s voice grew slightly, and her grip tightened. 

That would mean Mina’s a part of it. Whatever it is. She wouldn’t lie to me about something like that. Would she?

“Bakugou.” Uraraka’s voice was hard now, and she shook his shoulder a little, though he paid it no mind. A few heads glanced their way. 

Mina would never murder somebody. 

He thought back to the brief expression that had flashed across her face when he’d first told her. The absolute rage that crashed across her features, before being immediately hidden away. 

Almost like she was used to doing it. 

She wouldn’t betray my trust like that. She knows what it means to me to be able to open up to someone. I never do that with anyone, goddammit. 

But what other explanation was there? Could all these incidents really be left up to chance? Was it just a freak series of events? 

It makes too much sense. The pieces fit together perfectly. 

I’m no fucking idiot. 

“Bakugou, come on.” Uraraka stood, and tugged on Bakugou’s hand, trying to pull him out into the hallway, away from the prying eyes collecting on him. 

But Bakugou was focused on the realization he’d inevitably come to. 

Mina knows who Blood Riot is.

~~~

“Not it.” 

Mina sighed. “Seriously Denki?” 

Kaminari fiddled with the wiring in a broken tracker. “Yes, seriously. No way am I gonna be the one to tell Eijirou that he’s gotta stop. I like my head where it is, thank you very much.” 

Sero looked up from where he was peering at several maps, eyebrow raised. “That’s a little dramatic, dude.” 

Shinsou, who was curled up on the couch against Denki, didn’t so much as open his eyes when he said, “That depends on what exactly we’re telling him he’s gotta stop. Recklessly acting out without consulting anyone, resulting in the media hovering like vultures?” 

Mina picked up where he left off, her face unusually serious. “Or telling him that this stuff with Bakugou is getting out of control.”

The room was silent. After a couple of moments, Jirou sighed, then leaned forward in her armchair, looking across the room at the rest of the Squad. “Bakugou’s gonna figure it out, poking around like he is. It’s amazing that he hasn’t already, and he was getting suspicious as it was after that stupid robbery. But now that the two dudes who harassed him suddenly end up gruesomely murdered?” 

She shook her head. “It doesn’t take a damn genius to connect the dots. It’s only a matter of time until he finds out just who exactly ‘Blood Riot’ is.” 

“Ei could already have a plan, or an idea for one,” Sero ventured. 

Kaminari snorted. “Same plan he’s chickened out of for the last decade. Just talking to Blasty, again.” 

Mina ran a hand through her hair, scrubbing frustratedly at her forehead. “We need to have him in here. All of us need to tell him to his face that he either needs to stop pussyfooting around and talk to Bakugou, or he needs to let him go once and for all.” 

Shinsou scoffed. “And if he chooses to let Blasty go?” 

Silence fell over the room again, the tension palpable. The answer to Shinsou’s question didn’t need to be said out loud, because everyone already knew the answer. 

Sero fiddled with the tape dispenser on the table. “Eijirou told me to throw him off track.” 

Mina gasped, entirely too loud. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?!” 

Sero shrugged. “I think that’s really the only plan he’s got for now. Ei may be 28 and running a criminal enterprise, but when it comes to Bakugou, he’s still the lost high school boy who’s too afraid to mix those parts of his life.”  

Jirou rolled her eyes. “All he’s done is made him and Bakugou miss each other incessantly for a decade.” 

“And made me run into way too many blond guys leaving out of the front door in the morning,” Kaminari muttered irritably. 

Winces all around the room. 

“It’s a little embarrassing, honestly,” Mina muttered. “Especially considering Bakugou hasn’t been with anyone since Ei.” 

More winces. 

The silence stretched on for longer this time, everyone in the room running through scenarios in their minds, wondering the best way to address this. And, to everyone’s surprise, in the end it was Jirou who stood up from her armchair, looping her earbuds around her neck. “I’m going to go get him. We need a plan for this to get resolved, now, before Bakugou figures it out himself and feels betrayed by all of us.” 

There were nods around the room, and Jirou walked out of the Squad Room without a backward glance, with a dangerous edge about her. 

Shinsou pushed himself off of Kaminari once the door closed, rubbing his eyes and standing up with a stretch. “Anyone want coffee?” 

“Dude, it’s one in the afternoon,” Sero said incredulously. 

Shinsou shrugged. “So?” 

Sero sighed. “Yeah, alright, make me some, too.”

Chapter Text

Kirishima edged into the room sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, Jirou right behind him. He hadn’t seen any of the Squad over the weekend thanks to a small gang clash one city over that he needed to tend to. Which meant he hadn’t seen them since… the murders. 

“I’m gonna go ahead and guess what this is about,” He announced, attempting his usual lopsided smile. 

Jirou settled back into her armchair after shutting the door, and Kirishima sheepishly settled on the couch next to Kaminari. Everyone else was in the same spot they’d been in when Jirou left to get Kirishima, not even a full thirty minutes ago. 

Mina pursed her lips, thinking to herself, He knew this was coming. 

“So I’m sure you guys want to talk to me about those guys, huh?” Kirishima chuckled awkwardly- the kind of chuckle people make when their friends confront them about how their murdering is getting just a tad bit reckless. 

“Well, it’s kinda been on our minds, dude,” Kaminari started off with a lighter tone, giving a half-hearted laugh that fooled approximately nobody. 

The room got quiet, until Kirishima finally sighed. “Look, I know it was a bad decision.” 

“Dude, the cops are all over us right now,” Sero said incredulously. “It’s gonna be a pain in the ass trying to lay low without fucking up our current plans. I think it’s safe to say this is a little more than a bad decision.”

A couple people winced. Shinsou sipped from his second cup of coffee. “Business shit aside, you can’t do this again.” 

“It was a one time thing. I’m sorry for not talking to you guys first, it just- I wasn’t thinking right, and I can admit that.” Kirishima looked properly chastised, and his eyes fell somewhat pleadingly on Mina, who hadn’t said a word. She was merely watching the interaction with her arms crossed tight against her chest, silent. 

“Look, I know you’re sorry, but that doesn’t change the fact that everything is different now.  Bakugou is gonna know those guys are dead, it’s all over the news.” Jirou butt in, drawing Kirishima’s attention to her as she ran her hands through her purple hair nervously. 

Sero propped his elbows on his knees, leaning his head down into his hands. “He’s gonna put it all together, if he hasn’t already.”

“I know you don’t wanna hear it, Eijirou, but we have one move, and we have to get it right. Everything is riding on what we, on what you , do next.” Mina leaned forward in her seat, piercing black eyes trained on Kirishima, unmoving and unrelenting. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Worry was laced in Kirishima’s words now, the seriousness of his friends making him want to panic. 

And maybe the gravity of his actions was starting to sink in. Maybe Kirishima finally had a moment to just stop and think about what he’d done, and what it meant. Thinking about how only matters of Bakugou could revert him back to his teenage self- someone foolish, who makes decisions without thinking.

“We can help you, but you’ve gotta be receptive, bro,” Kaminari ventured out, after a brief pause. He laid a small hand on Kirishima’s giant shoulder. 

“I’m always receptive to all of your plans.” 

“Not when it comes to Blasty,” Sero snorted. “But this has become bigger than just you now, man. He’s gonna find out.” 

“I’m willing to bet he has already. And what’s to stop him from cutting off all of us , too.” Shinsou voiced the fear that had been eating away at Mina’s insides. She wouldn’t say anything, but privately, she feared that not only did she have the most to lose, but that she would be the one Bakugou pointed at as responsible. 

Technically, you are , a voice whispered in her head. You’re the one who told Kirishima about what happened. You knew what he’d do, how he’d react. Admit it, you wanted them to suffer, too. 

“I think the longer we wait, the worse it’ll get.” Jirou fiddled with the cord of her earbuds, remembering Momo’s worries.

“Yeah. We should talk to him now, before he lets those thoughts fester,” Sero said. He didn’t share his private thought of it already being too late. 

“How do I face him? What excuses do I make?” Kirishima’s eyes had a vulnerable sheen in them that no one would expect from a member of the yakuza, much less one with Kirishima’s reputation. 

“Don’t make any. Give him explanations, then give him time. That’s all you can ask, hun.” Mina got up and walked over to the couch, reaching out to run a hand through Kirishima’s drooping spikes. 

 Kirishima put his head in his hands, almost making everyone miss the next thing he mumbled. “I’m not ready to face him.”

Kaminari grimaced. “I’m sorry, bro, but I think it’s a little too late for that.” 

~~~

Bakugou liked to think that he’d mellowed out since high school. Become more reasonable, more rational, more willing to talk things out without jumping to conclusions. He tried to keep a leash on his rage, now in days. Overall doing a better job at expressing emotions besides disgust and anger. 

But sometimes a part of him missed the all-consuming rage that used to live in him, and wanted to relish in the intense hatred he’d felt so often back then. In a way, it made him feel… safe. A comforting home he could always return to, that would never fail him. 

If he was injured, he could always rely on anger to hurt back. 

And as he felt anger rear its ugly head, it brought a sort of warmth with it. 

Welcome home , it seemed to say. When have I ever failed you? 

This was a different anger than what Bakugou was used to, however. This was a quiet sort of fury, one that builds steadily instead of exploding out of him all at once. This was not merely anger, nor even rage. The feeling currently seeping through Bakugou’s bones was full of contempt, of resentment, was heavy with malice. 

Of course the one person I felt safe enough to divulge my feelings to, was the one who had to do with this all along. 

Burdened with despair, a miserable and anguished sort of resignment. 

It was never real. I should have known. 

She sold me out to Blood Riot. 

But… why?

That was the one thing that kept Bakugou thinking, that kept him just a single step away from cutting her and the rest of the squad off without a word. He still had no idea who Blood Riot was, and why his name was tied with Bakugou’s. 

The most important piece of the puzzle, and he was missing it. 

What to do next… 

On one hand, a part of Bakugou wanted to give up his mini investigation once and for all. Forget about all the crazy shit that’s happened, cut off Mina and the Squad, and pretend like there’s never been anything out of the ordinary in his life. 

If this Blood Riot has managed to keep himself tied this close to you all this time without you ever finding out- do you really think just avoiding everyone will work? 

Come on, Katsuki. You’re smarter than that. 

Think. If Mina finds out that you put everything together- she’ll tell Blood Riot. And information will be twice as hard to get as before. 

On the other hand, though. Laying low wasn’t a bad idea either. Pretending he knew nothing. Keeping his thoughts and actions to himself, telling no one, not even Deku. Continuing to dig, to find out more about Japan’s underworld than he ever thought he’d want to know. And, of course, that brought a better opportunity for the third option he’d been considering. 

Vengeance. 

Bakugou didn’t know how, or when, not yet. But he knew that the burning in his bones wanted out, and he was prepared to indulge it in a way he hadn’t since highschool. 

I’ll make you regret everything, goddammit. 

I’ll show you what happens when you fuck with me. 

Chapter Text

“ What?” The young man’s voice was hard and cold, lined with gravel and ice. Anyone else on the receiving end of his glare would have at least flinched, but the figure surrounded by shadows did nothing, his facial expression unmoving. 

“Blood Riot has shut down the branch we started in Yamanashi,” The man repeated, watching rage take over the first man’s face, not unlike water falling from a cliff. “Magne is dead.” 

There was a girl listening in, and she gasped, her eyes filling with tears. “Big Sis is dead?”

“I’m sorry, Toga, but I’m afraid so.”

“ FUCK!” The first figure, known by most as Shigaraki, suddenly yelled, picking up a glass from a nearby table and chucking it at the closest wall with no warning. There was a brief silence at the sound of shattering glass. 

“That fucking BITCH! HOW DARE HE INTERFERE WITH MY PLANS!” Shigaraki continued to rage, stomping around the dim room that served as their headquarters while waving his arms, and anyone watching in on the scene would have been vaguely reminded of a toddler who didn’t want to take a nap, though they wouldn’t have dared to voice the thought. 

“First he takes out Stain, now this,” Toga said forlornly, and the heartbroken expression on her face would have been more moving if there hadn’t been a belt of bloodstained knives slung around her waist. 

“What’re we gonna do?!” The guy standing next to Toga suddenly called out, before his face twitched and changed, his voice lowering in pitch. “We can’t do anything, this is Blood Riot we’re talking about!” 

“Twice is right,” The man in shadows, Kurogiri, said. “This needs to be carefully considered, Shigaraki, or the consequences could be disastrous.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shigaraki said, a maniac grin appearing as he scratched at his neck, his demeanor shifting rapidly as he continued to pace. “Fortunately, I’ve been forming a plan to deal with him anyways.” 

“Dabi.” 

A lighter flicked on in the corner of the room, shallowly illuminating the scarred face of the man holding it. He raised his eyebrows at the call of his name. 

“You’re coming with me.” Shigaraki beckoned as he started walking towards the door. “Toga, you too.” 

“Is now really the best time?” Kurogiri moved forward, and had anyone been able to see his face, they would have seen the vaguely annoyed look on it as Shigaraki ignored him. 

Toga skipped over at the sound of her name, twirling a knife between her fingers. “I thought you said we weren’t going to go up against Riot’s circle?” 

Shigaraki grunted. “We aren’t. He wants to fuck with MY people, though, then we’re gonna fuck with his people.” 

Kurogiri watched in silence. 

“ Who exactly are we fucking with?” Dabi asked drily. 

A grin split over Shigaraki’s face, and it did nothing whatsoever in improving its general unattractiveness. “It’s a shame that little blond birdy of his has no idea what’s going on. He deserves to be enlightened, don’t you think?” 

~~~

Music was blaring in Bakugou’s apartment. He was in the extra room that served as his office/gym, and currently was beating the shit out of his punching bag. The music he had playing was loud and aggressive, in part due to his slight hearing problems and in part because it reflected his mood. 

Sweat poured down his face, his tank top drenched and his shorts clinging to his legs. Every hit he landed was satisfying, and removed a bit of his anger, leaving his mind clearer. 

He was thinking about the text he’d gotten from Mina an hour earlier, which he’d so far left unanswered. 

Pinky: Hey, i need to talk to u asap, can u let me know as soon as ur free plz!!

Obviously, she wanted to talk about the fucking murders. The fact that she said ‘please’ was evidence all on its own, seeing as Mina tended to just demand the things she wanted. 

She has to know that I know. 

Which meant, Bakugou thought, that she wanted to talk with him in order to do one of two things- either deny the damn connection or admit that she’d told… someone . And while Bakugou knew that someone had to be Blood Riot, Mina could refuse to say. 

The goal is to find out who Blood Riot is. And, ideally, why he seems to like me so much. Now, would it be easier to do that by denying that I know what she’s talking about, or fucking push her into telling me by saying I already put it together? 

Bakugou hardly noticed the exhaustion starting to creep up on him, as deep in his mind as he was. He wasn’t watching the time, and had no clue that he’d been at his bag for what was nearing an hour and a half. 

Mina would know I was faking if I completely denied everything. I’m not a dumbass, and she knows that. I’ll have to fucking pressure her into spilling shit. 

Logically, is there anyone I can already suspect? 

Bakugou ran through the options in his mind. Someone who knew both him and Mina already narrowed things down, unless it was someone who’d only observed him from afar. 

… what a creepy fucking thought. 

Everyone from their high school graduating class was immediately suspect, mostly since those were the only people Bakugou could think of having in common with Mina. 

Who is capable of murder? 

A traitorous voice Bakugou had done his best to ignore spoke up. What you should be asking is who is capable of caring that much about you? And what exactly are you planning to do once you find out who it is, anyway?  It prodded. 

Admit it, you already have someone you want it to be. You want things to work out like a fairy tale, and for your prince charming to have really cared about you all along. Except he doesn’t. Surely you’ve realized that by now. 

Bakugou gritted his teeth, driving his fists into the punching bag, over and over and over, trying to force his thoughts out of his head. An endless beat pounded into his ears, whether it was from his heart or his music, he couldn’t tell. 

How embarrassing, to still wish for a man that clearly wants nothing to do with you. Has he ever reached out once over the years? Have you ever even seen him at gatherings full of both of your friends? No. He wants to avoid you that badly.  

Just then, the lights in the room started flashing rapidly, and Bakugou was shocked out of his thoughts. 

“Fuck!” 

The speed of the lights were far faster than the ones attached to the doorbell, and even though he’d never seen them before, except when they were tested the first time he moved in, Bakugou was pretty sure the lights flashing were hooked to the building’s fire alarm. 

Bakugou booked it out of his office, charging to the front door and throwing it open in a panic. As he expected, there was the smell of smoke in the air and there were people rushing past him. He cursed the temperature increase he could already feel, and knew there was no time to waste in joining the people rushing down the stairway. 

Damn, it must be close. No time to turn around and grab my hearing aids, FUCK. 

Bakugou could hear the yelling and screaming of the people around him, loud as they were, but the words they were saying escaped him. 

Talk about shitty timing. 

It wasn’t long before most of the building's residents were out on the street, and fire trucks were parked in front of the apartments. Besides a lone cat that the firefighters were working to rescue, it seemed everyone was safe and accounted for, and the initial adrenaline Bakugou had felt quickly wore off. Fatigue took over without a problem, leaving Bakugou sagging in place, wanting nothing more than to take a hot shower and wash off the sweat coating him. 

He was pretty sure several people had tried to talk to him already, but he made no effort to watch lips move, and was happy to ignore everyone in favor of walking a little bit away from the crowd, scowling deeply. 

The streetlights flickered on as the sky grew steadily darker. 

Eyes watched, and waited. 

Chapter Text

“How long are we going to wait?” Toga whispered, a little too loudly. 

“Shut up,” Shigaraki hissed as Dabi rolled his eyes. “I want to make sure no one will notice he’s missing, first.” 

“I doubt someone will,” Toga frowned. “Look, he’s standing all by himself. So close, too. He’s making it easy. I wanted a challenge.” 

“Dealing with him with be challenging enough as it is.” The three of them watched as a neighbor came up to Bakugou, obviously inquiring after his health, and how he completely and totally ignored them. After a few more seconds, the lady actually put her hand on Bakugou’s shoulder in her efforts to get a response. 

“JESUS CHRIST, TAKE A HINT AND GO AWAY!” Bakugou didn’t yell so much as talk incredibly loud, but it had the same effect. The woman winced, embarrassed, and darted back off to the crowd of the apartment’s residents. 

“A real charmer.” Dabi’s voice was dry, and he already sounded like he was sick of being forced to interact with not only Toga and Shigaraki, but a third unknown person. Which, well, he probably was. 

“Eh, he’s not my type,” Toga pouted, and Dabi bristled at the insinuation that what he’d said had somehow implied that Bakugou was his type. 

“Don’t you know what sarcasm is, you idiot?” Dabi tried to elbow Toga but she spun out of his way, giggling. Dabi fantasized about cutting off her hair while she was sleeping. 

“If the two of you don’t fucking shut up I’m killing both of you,” Shigaraki himself was now being rather loud, annoyed at the other two’s antics. 

Everyone settled down, their eyes bouncing back to Bakugou, who was resting most of his weight against the wall of the building he was leaning against. His eyelids drooped, though he kept making a conscious effort to open them back up into a glare. 

Dabi pursed his lips. Something about the scene seemed… wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had the strong sense that something was off with Bakugou. 

“He’s tired,” Toga giggled, running her fingers lovingly over the blades nestled in her belt. “Can we get him now, Shiggy?”

“Quietly!” Shigaraki hissed, and Dabi didn’t have any more time to dwell on his suspicions because they were moving forward, darting into the shadows of the alley Bakugou was so conveniently close to. 

They paused, looking at one another to ensure everyone was ready, before darting forward, quick as lightning. Toga and Shigaraki both grabbed an arm and yanked, as Dabi slipped a hand over Bakugou’s mouth, the fingers on his other hand immediately finding the pressure point sitting on Bakugou’s neck. 

With only a muffled grunt of surprise, Bakugou was gone. 

~~~

Kirishima was drafting out the fourth version of his speech to Bakugou in his head while checking over a list of targets when he got a text. It was from one of his police informants, surprisingly, and Kirishima felt an odd sense of foreboding wash over him as he read the lines. 

That apartment building you like? There was a fire there tonight. No casualties, although they haven’t figured out what started the fire yet. Just telling you, it may affect rent prices. 

It was under false pretenses, obviously . But the excuse for the message wasn’t what Kirishima was focused on. No, instead he was focused on the “no casualties” part of the message, if only to curb the immediate worry that rushed through him. Because, of course, it wasn’t just any apartment building the cop was talking about, but specifically the one that Bakugou lived in. Kirishima had ensured long ago that he’d always had some way to stay informed on the safety of the building’s residents (and therefore Bakugou). 

His phone rang, and frustration started to shoot through his head at the multiple things demanding his attention. He answered the call while staring at his computer screen, on it an order waiting for his confirmation to be sent out. 

“Boss? One of the confiscated crates has gone missing-” 

If there were no casualties, Kirishima briefly told himself, surely the check-in on Bakugou could wait. He likely would be perfectly fine, albeit pissed off. After all, he had several time-sensitive things he had to get done. 

Yeah, an hour or two wouldn’t make a difference.

~~~

Bakugou woke up slowly, blinking open his gritty eyes and immediately registering several things. One: he couldn’t raise his hands to rub at his face. Two: his head was fucking pounding, and making it very hard to think. Three: there was a heavy silence sitting in the air that came from not having his hearing aids in. Four: he had no fucking clue where he was. 

Instinctively, Bakugou opened his mouth to shout something in a panic, but he stopped, forcing himself to think through the situation, first. He swiveled his head around to look at the room, which was bleak and empty. A table, a couch, and him. Noticeably- there was no door that Bakugou could see. A quick glance down confirmed that his ankles were tied to a chair, as well. The last thing he remembered was standing outside as his apartment building was evacuated, then… nothing. 

What the fuck happened to me? 

Another few seconds of thinking caused Bakugou to remember the most recent events in his life, and things made at least 7% more sense after that. 

Criminals. Blood Riot. Someone has kidnapped me, and it’s probably one of the two options. God, what time is it? 

Bakugou’s throat was parched, and it was hard to focus on any other sensation. Not to mention the exhaustion in his muscles, as well as the severe uncomfortableness he felt when he realized whoever had taken him likely had not thoughtfully grabbed his hearing aids as well. 

Fucking hell. I can’t hear, can’t move, don’t know where I am, and on top of all that shit, I’m worn out because of course I had to overexert myself working out. 

This situation sucks fucking balls. 

~~~

Dabi shuffled into the room behind Shigaraki and Toga silently. Behind him, Kurogiri, Twice, Compress, and Spinner. Jesus, talk about a crowd. They were all looking at the back of the man they’d taken, seeing as they’d placed him facing away from the room’s entrance. At Dabi’s insistence, everyone was quiet as they walked in, or as quiet as they could be, and it only strengthened the hunch Dabi had come up with in the hours following Blondie’s kidnapping. 

Despite the fact that some noise was definitely being made, Blondie didn’t move a muscle or react in any way. His eyes were open, they’d seen that on the camera, so the man definitely was awake. Dabi stepped forward, holding out a finger to Shigaraki, who paused, despite the rage on the man’s face on being told what to do. 

Everyone stopped and turned to Dabi, confused on what he was about to do, seeing as they still weren’t within eyesight of Blondie. 

“Can you hear me?” Dabi mumbled, and everyone’s eyes flicked to the man, who didn’t so much as twitch. Dabi repeated his question, in a normal speaking tone though. 

When there still wasn’t a reaction, Dabi felt free to finally voice what he’d been thinking. “That guy can’t hear jack shit.” 

“Huh?” Toga immediately asked. 

“So he’s deaf…” Compress muttered, and Shigaraki froze for a moment, obviously a little confused about what to do next. Dabi was happy to melt into the back of the room, his participation complete in his eyes. Muttering broke out, and as the voices got progressively louder, the guy finally moved, snapping his head to the side. He caught sight of them, and the docileness he’d been demonstrating disappeared as he started struggling against the ties, yelling all the while. 

“WHAT DO YOU FUCKERS FUCKING WANT WITH ME? YOU BETTER LET ME THE FUCK GO OR THERE’LL BE HELL TO PAY!” 

Everyone winced, and Kurogiri sighed. It would have made Dabi feel bad for him it wasn’t so funny. Shigaraki opened his mouth, likely to say something cringey, but Blondie spoke before he could. 

“ARE YOU FUCKERS TRY’NA TALK TO ME? IT WON’T WORK UNLESS I CAN SEE YOUR MOUTHS YOU INCONSIDERATE ASSHOLES!” 

Bakugou continued to struggle against the chair, and Spinner leaned over to Compress to whisper in his ear, “He kinda has a point. None of us were prepared for someone who’s deaf.” 

Toga giggled, then skipped over in front of Bakugou, and his rage-filled eyes immediately snapped to her. Before he could yell something else at her though, she started to clumsily sign at him. 

My name is T-O-G-A. I know a small amount of sign language. 

Every person in the room looked surprised, and Twice actually whispered, “Holy shit,” without a follow-up from his other personality. Dabi assumed they both felt the same way. 

“I don’t give a fuck about your name, asshole,” Bakugou said, still full of venom, but no longer screaming. “You’re probably shit at it anyways.” 

Shigaraki stepped forward, feeling like he hadn’t been the center of attention for too long. He launched into his planned speech, despite having been violently thrown off kilter. “I’ve brought you here today because I think there’s some valuable-” 

“Are you talking to me?” Bakugou loudly interrupted. “Is he talking to me?” He glanced at Toga, who nodded. “Take that stupid mask off your face, dumbass, I can’t read your lips.” 

Dabi held back the urge to crack a grin. 

“For fucks sake,” Shigaraki mumbled, before yanking his mask off and glowering at Bakugou. “Can you hear me now?” 

“Technically I can’t hear anything,” Bakugou helpfully pointed out, and Twice didn’t hesitate in laughing rather loudly, causing Compress to elbow him in the side. “Aren’t you two the fuckfaces from the alley?” 

Bakugou glanced from Toga to Shigaraki, the tenseness in his shoulders easing minutely. By this point, everyone had made their way into Bakugou’s line of sight, except Dabi, who was content to lean in the corner. Bakugou scanned everyone else, before looking back to Shigaraki. “Where’s patchface?” 

“AS I WAS SAYING,” Shigaraki said before anyone had a chance to say something else, “I’ve brought you here today because I think there’s some valuable information you’d be interested in learning.” 

Dabi wondered vaguely if he should be insulted that the guy called him patchface, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort. 

“I’m not listening to shit until you untie me,” Bakugou said. “There’s like seven of you guys, what the fuck are you afraid of?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Bakugou closed his eyes, managing to look both smug and pissed off at the same time. There was an abrupt silence. 

“What an asshole!” Twice shouted, following it up immediately with, “You know, I kinda like this guy.”

Chapter Text

Small, cold fingers pried open Bakugou’s eyelids, and a distant part of him thought that he should have expected that, really. Immediately he leveled his gaze into a glare at Shigaraki. 

“No one gets to ignore me, Bakugou Katsuki. Don’t do that again or we’ll find much more painful ways to get you to comply.” 

The fingers released Bakugou’s face, and he wasn’t surprised when Toga bounded past him a moment later, sweet smile still in place. 

“Besides, we have something you want.” Smugness radiated from the sureness in Shigaraki’s stance, and Bakugou instantly despised it. 

“As if you’ve got anything I want,” Bakugou sneered, stubborn despite the pain radiating from multiple points in his body. Despite him knowing that they could have the key to this entire mystery. 

“Figured everything out, have you?” 

Bakugou couldn’t stop himself from tensing, the look on Shigaraki’s face causing a cold sweat to begin to bead on his spine. 

“No, I didn’t think so,” Shigaraki answered his own question, stalking closer, until he was only an arm’s length from Bakugou. His lips were pale, almost bloodless. “You still don’t know who he is, do you?”

“I don’t need you to tell me shit,” Bakugou hissed, but it may as well have been an agreement for the way Shigaraki smiled. 

“How else were you planning on figuring it out? You don’t have anyone else you can trust.” Shigaraki turned around then, walking back over to his group of people, probably taking the advantage to say something that Bakugou couldn’t hear. 

Bakugou gritted his teeth, fear and eagerness and rage boiling up inside of him. Everything had led up to this, this piece of information. The key to a search that had turned out much bigger than he’d thought. Much more dangerous than he’d thought. 

Bakugou ran a dry tongue over his lips. Glanced from Toga’s cheerful face to Shigaraki’s smug one. Glancing at the line of people behind Shigaraki, all of their faces fixed on him. This was… too easy. 

Bakugou fixed his eyes back on Shigaraki, narrowing them. “What do you want, shithead?” 

“Smart and handsome,” Toga giggled, signing along with her words, which Bakugou would have appreciated from literally anyone but her. “Just fix that attitude, and you’d be the perfect guy.” 

There isn’t shit he can do to make anyone wanna date him, man. Come on, with that attitude?

Bakugou’s lip curled. “Like you’re such a catch yourself, psycho. My attitude tends to keep people like you away, so it’s working just fine for me.” 

Her, and everyone else, anyways. 

The smile melted off Toga’s face. She looked older without a perpetual grin, more serious, more jaded. 

“What I want,” Shigaraki stomped his foot on the ground, making Bakugou’s eyes flick back over to him, having felt the vibrations, “Is simple. If there’s one thing Blood Riot doesn’t want, it’s you to know who he is. That much is obvious. And I just want to repay the actions done to me.” 

“And yet,” Bakugou said, “You still haven’t told me who he is. Makes me fucking think there’s something you want from me in return.” The headache in Bakugou’s temples was growing worse, and it was making it hard to think. 

“Well my boy,” One of the people off to the side stepped forward, wearing a corny mask (that he had raised slightly to uncover his mouth) and a top hat. He looked like a damn stage magician. “All we really want from you, is to hurt Riot with this information. Doesn’t really matter how you do it, as long as it gets done.” 

Shigaraki looked vaguely mad at not being able to say it himself, but Bakugou didn’t really give a shit. “And if I don’t?” 

A man stepped forward, coming up from behind Bakugou. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, and from the look on their faces, Bakugou assumed the entrance hadn’t been planned. It only took him a second to recognize the man now standing in front of him. 

“Patchface,” Bakugou greeted. 

Patchface grinned, harsh and cold. “You’ll want to hurt him, trust me. That guy has taken every precaution possible to keep you from finding him. No one does that unless they have a reason to hide. And with a name like ‘Blood Riot’...” Dabi paused, his eyes mocking. ”Well, it certainly makes the imagination run.”  

“So, tell me Bakugou,” Shigaraki walked close, too close, hovering over Bakugou's bound form in the chair. “Are you ready to learn Blood Riot’s name?”

~~~

It took two hours, but Kirishima finally had all of his work out of the way. He stood up in his office, stretching out his back and popping his fingers. He waved to his tank of exotic fish on his way out. 

Down the hall, he stopped in the analysis lab, peeking his head in to look for any members of the Squad. He kinda wanted sushi for dinner. Denki was sure to be on board, but he had to convince two, at the very least, one, more person (according to the majority rule put in place a long ago, of course).  

Something itched at his brain, something he was sure he was forgetting, and that never was a good thing when you were a crime boss. But Kirishima knew from experience dwelling on it wouldn’t do anything, and that, if anything, it was better not to think about it and let it naturally come to him. 

Further along the hallway was the Squad Room, and the door was closed. Since they had a general rule of leaving the door open if the room was empty, Kirishima grinned, and he burst into the room with no finesse, immediately saying, “What do we think about sushi for toni- What’s going on?”

Five faces looked at him with various degrees of horror, raging from I’ve seen something no mortal eyes can comprehend to aw man, I just dropped my coffee. 

“Oh shit, he doesn’t know yet,” Kaminari muttered without thinking. 

Kirishima’s grin slid off his face. “What don’t I know?” 

There was a pause, as if everyone was mentally playing a game of rock paper scissors to see who had the unfortunate luck of getting to tell Kirishima. All eyes slid to Sero, somehow. He sighed. 

“Do you know about the building fire at all?” 

Kirishima nodded, that weird feeling of forgetting something rising back up to smack him in the face. Oh, yeah. 

“They said only one resident is unaccounted for. A neighbor testified to seeing him afterwards, but no one’s seen him since.” Sero’s voice was steady, professional. Exactly what Kirishima needed in the moment. 

His finger twitched. “Bakugou,” He said. It wasn’t a question. 

“It is worth noting,” Shinsou jumped in, looking slightly stressed out yet still managing to sound unaffected, “That two days ago you shut down the League’s branch in Yamanashi, and killed Magne.” 

“And the police have just ruled the fire as intentional,” Jirou said, looking up from her phone. 

There was silence in the room. Worry thrummed through everyone, and, although no one voiced it, several people were thinking about the irony of the situation. Because although Kirishima knew the only way to keep Bakugou completely out of danger from his business was to have nothing to do with him, and even though he cut off contact with him completely, in the end, he still couldn’t do even that. 

Kirishima laughed, low, dark, and deadly. Mina shivered. It was the sound of a man who was on the edge of an abyss. “They wouldn’t.” 

Sero spun around the laptop he was balancing in his lap. It showed grainy video footage from the apartment building next to Bakugou’s. “I think they would, Ejirou.” 

“Why would they have let themselves be caught on feed like that, though?” Mina mused out loud, as they all watched three very recognizable league members snatch up Bakugou. A recognizable rage rose up in Kirishima’s chest. 

“I think…” Kaminari spoke up, hesitantly. “I think they did it on purpose.” 

He glanced to Kirishima, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “They want you to know they have Bakugou.” 

“The only question is why,” Shinsou said. 

There was a strange feeling coursing through Kirishima, an icy current that it was impossible to not get swept up in. They took Bakugou. They dared to take my Katsuki. 

“Does it even matter why?” Mina’s voice trembled, her own anger thinly veiled. “They kidnapped him. Knowing everything they do, they still fucking kidnapped him.” 

“It’s gotta be a trap,” Jirou muttered. “It’s too obvious.” 

Kirishima held his palm up, denying whatever words Sero was opening his mouth to say next. The room was thick with tension. “I’ll take care of this.”

Several people’s mouths were already about to protest, but before they could say anything, Kirishima continued, “You guys are welcome to come along and be backup. But Shigaraki- he’s mine .”

Chapter Text

There’s a certain feeling that everyone has felt before, no matter who they are. They may have felt it while watching a scary movie, or when being pranked by their friends, or maybe when they were out a little too late at night on the bad side of town. It’s that fleeting feeling of panic , of seeing the wolf coming towards you and knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it. 

The feeling of a predator’s eyes catching onto you, choosing you. The way you feel when a hand reaches out from under the bed to grip your ankle with inhuman strength and refuses to let go. 

It’s terror, plain and simple. 

Call it what you want to justify whatever actions you may make, but in moments like that, humans are reduced down to their basic instincts, making you just like any other animal. 

Fight. Run. Survive. Mine. Win. Enemy. Good. Bad. 

But, unlike most other animals, humans have let their emotions grow strong, giving them room to push and pull at their base instincts. And whether or not that’s a good thing depends on the person, and what kind of situations they find themselves in. 

Because the thing is, too much pushing and pulling leads to hesitation. And if you’re in a situation that led you to rely on your base instincts in the first place, well, hesitation is likely the last thing you want. 

Hesitation can get you killed. 

Maybe that mix of feelings is what led Shigaraki to be so unprepared, maybe that’s why he was so quickly disarmed, so easily sated. Or maybe Shigaraki too, knew what it was like to feel terror. 

Even if he didn’t before, he certainly would after tonight. But right now, he is blissfully unaware of the predators closing in on him. 

Shigaraki was instead clearly relishing in the moment, basking in the fact that he had something Bakugou wanted. Something Blood Riot wanted.

Shigaraki licked his lips. “Blood Riot’s name is-”

Unceremoniously, the lights flickered. Then went out completely.

Bakugou’s world went blank. No sound, no light, no way to move. 

He felt his chest expand, then deflate, then expand again, faster and faster. 

Nothing to focus on but the lack of sensation everywhere . 

Imagine you’re at the zoo, on the pathways. You know the tigers and elephants are near, but you also know you’re safe from them. You can’t see them from where you’re at, and if you did happen to see them suddenly in front of you, free, you’d probably shit yourself and/or back away slowly. 

Maybe you’d just stand there, frozen, hoping they won’t see you if you don’t move. 

You’d likely feel not unlike Bakugou in that current moment, when he blinks widely as the lights suddenly turn back on, after he doesn’t know how long. 

For a moment, a long moment, he thinks he’s fallen asleep and is dreaming, or having an incredibly vivid hallucination. Because there’s no way what he’s seeing is real. 

There’s so much to take in, and so much suddenly in front of him, Bakugou’s brain hurts trying to glance around rapidly, having only his eyes to fill him in on what’s going on. And what he sees is this- 

The room had turned into a sudden battleground, bodies already down, more falling as he watched. There were more people than before, all of them masked. Naturally, Bakuguo’s eyes couldn’t help but slide to the most dominant visual presence in the room. 

The newcomer was big , broad, muscular, and sturdy. Certainly twice the size of Bakugou, if not more, and Bakugou wasn’t exactly small himself. He was wearing a suit, interestingly enough (as were the rest of his group), but it was the color that drew Bakugou’s eye. 

Bright, beautiful, burning, red. 

It always had to be red, always had to lead back to him. Why couldn’t he ever see red without seeing Kirish-. 

Wait. 

~~~

The Squad had argued the longest over Bakugou. 

“We can’t just grab him! He’ll freak out once he realizes it’s us!” Kaminari tapped his foot anxiously on the floor of the van as they drove rapidly across town. 

“He’ll fight back. Especially if we’ve gotta cut restraints to free him.” Shinsou said, headset half off as he switched rapidly between networks. 

“We don’t have to worry about being quick if we take all of them out,” Mina growled.

“There’s too many of them, someone will likely get away. It’s dangerous and stupid to stay any longer than we have to,” Sero said, typing frantically into his own computer. 

“Look. Unless we do what the League did, someone’s just gonna have to talk to him, and make it real fucking convincing in about twenty seconds,” Jirou snapped. 

There were immediately several outraged faces at the suggestion of doing anything like the League had down it. 

“The only question is, who should it be?” Kaminari muttered lowly, eyeing Kirishima, who had stayed silent throughout the entire conversation. 

~~~

Before Bakugou could move any further with his thoughts, he jerked back in alarm, automatically trying to kick out with his foot (not that it did any good) as one of the suited people was next to him suddenly, moving in front of him, a gentle hand on his shoulder- a hand that felt familiar for some reason - as their other hand immediately pulled up the mask they wore. 

Bakugou couldn’t have stopped the gasp if he’d tried. 

No. Fucking. Way.  

Bakugou mouthed her name, frozen in shock, even as he saw her register that he didn’t have his hearing aids in. A look of outrage passed over her face before disappearing almost immediately. 

And Bakugou was feeling a lot in that moment, and he’d been feeling way too much way too often lately, but he couldn’t help the visceral reaction of relief that swept through him at her presence. Despite the overwhelming rage, despite what he’d been sure was the sting of betrayal- after the day he’d had, Bakugou wanted nothing more than to fall into Mina’s arms the moment he saw her face, even under the baffling circumstances. 

“I need you to trust me. Okay?” Mina signed, slightly clumsy, unrushed, her face earnest and kind, ignoring the fighting surrounding them. 

And, try as he might, Bakugou could only hold himself together through so much, and it only took about seven seconds until his look of anger fell, and he sagged, nodding his head, exhausted in all sense of the word. 

A knife from her pocket made quick work of the rope around his wrists and ankles, and the sudden blood flow made pins and needles stab into Bakugou’s hands and feet. An involuntary whimper made its way past his lips. 

Mina’s hands lowered into his field of vision, and she signed, “I’ve got you, you’re safe now,” rapidly, before unceremoniously scooping Bakugou into her arms. 

Right before he suddenly passed out from the sudden blood rush, Bakugou thought decidedly that it was the best he’d felt all day. 

~~~

Blood Riot liked when he got to stretch out his legs. He liked when things got a little messy, a little dirty, a little fucked up. It felt good to be able to let loose, especially whenever he felt the person really deserved it. 

But not like this. Not at the expense of Bakugou. 

Blood Riot was no longer stretching out, getting exercise. Making this about Bakugou took every ounce of fun away from the fighting, away from what was usually purely business transactions. Now- now it was personal. 

And no one in their right mind wanted to get personal with Blood Riot. 

It was a lesson Riot planned to teach Shigaraki tonight. After all, he had no doubt that Kurogiri would get him away, like usual. Riot had no idea how he did it, but Kurogiri was the brains of Shigaraki’s operation, and always saved him before Riot’s final blows. 

But, after tonight, Riot was going to make sure Shigarak never wanted to fuck with him again. Him, or what was his . 

The League had several hideouts, all impressively hidden, all mediocrely defended. Even then, it didn’t take too long for Sero and Shinsou to figure out which one the League had Bakugou in. It was child’s play sneaking in, and was so turning off the breaker box for a couple of moments. They were all already gathered in the same room, which was at the very least convenient. 

By the time the lights came back on, Riot was in front of Shigaraki, twin sai in his hands, the daggers pointed menacingly at Shigaraki’s throat. His mouth was stretched in a wide grin, his eyes feral. 

Shigaraki ran. 

They danced around the room, Riot cutting down anyone who got too close, anyone who stood in his way, stalking Shigaraki and refusing to let his attention be drawn off of him. It didn’t long for Shigaraki to acquire his own blades from where they’d been in a corner of the room, and Riot was finally able to stop holding back. 

It was no good to take down an opponent that couldn’t put up a fair fight, after all. 

Blades clashed, metal shrieking, both from their fight and from others around the room. Kirishima clearly had the upper hand in level of skill, and it didn’t take long before he had Shigaraki disarmed, sai crossed in an x at his throat. 

Spill his blood. 

Without so much as a blink, Riot yanked his elbows further away from his body, drawing his hands across and away from each other, making the daggers slice through the air that Shigaraki’s jugular had been occupying milliseconds after he was rescued by Kurogiri. 

Kurogiri stood with Shigaraki on the opposite side of the room, but even from where he was standing Riot could see two red lines on either side of Shigaraki’s throat. 

So, so close. 

A sharp whistle let Kirishima know Mina had Bakugou safe and sound, and that it was time for them to go. His team began to file out the same way they’d came in, but Kirishima stopped to observe the room they’d be leaving behind. 

Bodies on the floor, some moving and moaning, some still. He looked at Shigaraki, already halfway through a different door thanks to Kurogiri. Flames licked at the wooden floors in one corner of the room, and Kirishima noted distantly that the pyromaniac wasn’t in sight. 

You were lucky this time. But I won’t forget this. And I’ll be waiting. 

Chapter Text

As usual, when Bakugou woke up, it was silent. The first thing he became aware of was the steady ache in his arms and legs, and soon after that the soreness in his wrists and ankles. 

The urge to fall asleep was tugging at his brain, at least until he remembered today’s- yesterday’s?- events. 

Bakugou’s eyes shot open. He’d have time to rest later, right now he needed to figure out where he was and what the fuck was going on. 

Bakugou pushed himself up, sitting up and looking around to find out he was on a well-loved couch with a somewhat shittily-knit blanket thrown over him. There was another couch in the room, as well as two armchairs, all scattered around a TV stand with game consoles. It looked comfortable, lived in. Bakugou noticed that there was a coffee table in front of the couch he was on, and his hearing aids sat neatly on top of it.

He frowned at them in confusion, but after inspecting them, and realizing they were indeed his- there was a scratch on the left one identical to his own- he put them in, wincing as the world around him came into focus, small sounds buzzing to life and filling the oppressive silence. 

He craned his neck, looking around the room. There were windows at the top of the walls, large enough to let sunlight in, but not large to be able to see anything out of. 

Odd, but he had bigger things to worry about. Like the vague said of murmuring voices coming from behind the door he could see. 

Bakugou pushed the blanket away and stood up on shaky legs, despite his muscle's protests. He stretched, then moved silently over to where the door was. Leaning against the wall, Bakugou listened to the hushed conversation happening in what was probably a hallway. 

“You need to get your shit together. We don’t know when he’s gonna wake up, but you need to be ready once he does. This is confusing enough for Katsuki as it is.” 

Bakugou felt his eyebrows rise slightly despite himself. It was definitely Mina’s voice. What was Mina doing here- 

I need you to trust me. Okay?

She’d grabbed him. She’d rescued him from Shigiraki, her and all those other people in the suits… 

Mina. Blood Riot. Red. 

Kirishima? 

And all the missing rage came rushing back, like it had only been waiting for Bakugou to remember it. It was marred with confusion and fatigue, but it was there nonetheless. 

And, of course, Mina chose that moment to walk into the room. She opened the door softly, and jumped in surprise with a little yelp once she immediately came face-to-face with Bakugou. 

“Hey, you’re-” She started, reaching towards him. 

“You stay away from me,” Bakugou hissed, instinctively moving away and further back, letting his mouth move without thinking. 

Mina couldn’t help but jerk back at his harsh words. It’d been so long since Bakugou had directed ire toward her she’d forgotten how much it hurt to be on the receiving end of his words. 

“Kats-” She tried, but didn’t make it any further than that before Bakugou was already interrupting, his voice trembling with fury. 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Mina’s face broke like a porcelain plate, shattering in the wake of Bakugou’s feelings. 

“Wait, let me explain, please.” Mina held out a hand, refusing to believe Bakugou would make a verdict without hearing her out. “You don’t have to say anything, just listen.” 

Silence. Bakugou stared at Mina, his jaw tense, his teeth grinding together. But he was almost thirty years old, not eighteen anymore, and he had to act like it, no matter how angry he was. 

“Fine,” He ground out. He pretended not to see Mina’s visible sigh of relief. 

She’s faking. She doesn’t care about you, and she never has. 

There was a couple of seconds pause. Mina didn’t know where to start in the story, and she knew there was definitely a wrong way to tell it. This could very well make or break her entire friendship with Bakugou. 

“Where do you want me to start?” She finally asked, tense, warily watching Bakugou for an answer. 

“It’s Kirishima, isn’t it?” Bakugou couldn’t escape the main question on his mind, the cultivation of his quests. 

“...Yeah. How did you find out?” Mina ventured to ask. 

Bakugou couldn’t help but be honest with her. “The moment I saw him when you guys fucking broke in. Everything connected.”

Mina nodded, biting her lip. 

“Goddammit, why ?” Bakugou couldn’t help himself. 

She sighed. “It’s difficult to understand. He wanted to keep you safe,” Bakugou opened his mouth in outrage, but Mina surged on before he could say anything, “Kirishima has always cared about you and I guess he wanted to make sure you were always doing well.” 

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense!” Bakugou raised his voice at Mina, everything finally starting to unravel, weeks upon weeks of fear and stress and hope . “He’s the one who broke up with me !” 

“I know, but-” 

“No! You don’t fucking know!” Resentment that had lied in Bakugou for a decade pushed its way back to the surface. “He gave up on me, goddammit! And god knows I don’t fucking blame him, but he doesn’t get to do this! To know that he’s had this- this claim on me, while refusing to so much as see me in person!” 

“If he cared he would have shown up at the class reunion! If he cared he could have called, or done something normal for god’s sake! Oh my god…” Bakugou paused, suddenly remembering a very important detail that had slipped his mind. 

“Kirishima is Blood Riot. Blood Riot… you’re yakuza!” Bakugou’s face was vaguely horrified, as if he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. 

Mina winced. “Well um, yes.” 

“Fucking… he killed those two guys…didn’t he?” Bakugou wasn’t looking at Mina anymore, having gone back to lean against the couch. 

There was a pause. “Yes,” Mina whispered. 

And that made Bakugou look back up, made him look straight into Mina’s eyes with a sudden fury. He stalked forward to point a finger into Mina’s chest, his eyes burning with betrayal. “And to know that you have fucking known the entire time. That you came running to him every time I told you something in confidence!” 

Bakugou’s lip wasn’t trembling, goddammit, and the emotion in his voice wasn’t hurt. Of course not. “I trusted you with everything ,” He hissed. 

Mina’s eyes were filled with tears, and she looked so heartbroken it was almost too painful for Bakugou to watch. Almost. But not quite. Not enough to stop Bakugou from what he was about to say. 

“I want you to fucking know that you’ve hurt me more than anyone else ever has,” Bakugou said lowly, his red eyes burning holes into Mina’s black ones. 

Tears started to fall rapidly from Mina’s eyes, and she couldn’t stop the broken whimper that left her mouth. To be told she was the cause of every thing she ever tried to prevent. 

Bakugou watched as Mina dropped her head into her hands, her entire body shaking, the sound of muffled sobs falling from behind her hands. 

She doesn’t mean it. 

She deserves to feel like me, to feel what she did to me. 

She sounds just like I did. 

And that thought brought Bakugou down. Brought him back from his hurt and pain and rage. He sighed, then stepped forward, putting a hand on Mina’s shoulder gently. 

“Hey. Don’t cry, alright? I’m sorry Ashindo, I didn’t mean that.” Years ago, getting an apology from Bakugou was like pulling teeth straight from his mouth, but these days, with certain people, it came easy to him, as it should. 

Mina jerked her head up at the feel of Bakugou’s hand, face tear streaked and eyes puffy. She got up on her tiptoes, throwing her arms around Bakugou’s neck suddenly, latching onto him, still crying. 

“N-No I’m sorry!” She hiccuped, hiding her face in his neck. “I never m-meant to make you feel like this! I o-only told him about those two guys, I p-promise!” 

Guilt slipped around Bakugou’s legs, climbing up his body and encasing it. But his own feelings of hurt and rage were still dripping from his heart, battling with the guilt at its attempt to cover him. 

“Why?” Bakugou couldn’t help but ask, despite the fact that a part of him just wanted to accept the apology. 

Mina’s grip tightened. She was silent for a long moment before she murmured into Bakugou’s ear, “Because I knew he’d do something to make them hurt like they hurt you.”

“I still don’t understand, dammit,” Bakugou said, choosing to ignore the feelings that stirred up for now. “Why has Kirishima stayed away from me? Why fucking act like he did when I don’t mean anything to him anymore?” 

The sound of the door opening made both Mina and Bakugou’s heads turn. 

“I think I can answer that.” 

~~~

Bakugou was staring at Kirishima, lip trembling, his entire body tensed. And, god, it was as if the years melted away, and it felt like Kirishima was staring at seventeen-year-old Bakugou again, watching his face crumble every time Kirishima fucked up. 

What should I say to him? What compasses a decade of yearning spent on him? 

He’d imagined this moment a thousand times, with hundreds of different phrases to say to Bakugou when he first saw him, but none of them quite fit the current situation. 

Instead, Kirishima decided to go with, “Are you thirsty? Or hungry? It’s probably been a while since you last ate.” 

Bakugou blinked in surprise, Mina mirroring his look. She let go of him slowly, casting a warm glance at Kirishima before saying, “Let me grab you something” to Bakugou. 

An awkward fifteen seconds of silence ensued until Mina returned with a glass of water. “Here, love. I’ll start cooking something, you just drink this for now.” 

She pushed it into Bakugou’s hands, then retreated a couple of feet away back into the kitchen, enough to give Bakugou and Kirishima some privacy, but close enough to intervene if needed. 

“H-Hey,” Kirishima finally said, shifting from foot to foot and glancing from Bakugou to the floor then back again. His behavior contrasted greatly with the hulking figure he made in the room- a sight Bakugou was wholly unused to. 

The Kirishima he remembered was only a couple of inches taller than him, not an entire foot, and wasn’t twice his size in mass. His Kirishima didn’t have scars and tattoos like this one did either, something Bakugou could easily see all over Kirishima’s arms thanks to the muscle tee he was wearing. 

At least his fashion sense never changed. 

And it was hard, seeing this Kirishima. Comparing him to a seventeen-year-old child, face still round with baby fat, instead of sharp worn angles. Small details diminished by time, or altogether new kept drawing Bakugou’s eyes, and he couldn’t stop them from darting all over the man. 

A man that was like a lost glove- familiar, but whose memory was dusty and gray. To see Kirishima in the flesh again, for the first time in nearly ten years- it took everything in Bakugou not to run into his arms right then and there. 

Bakugou could only utter a single word. 

“ Why ?” 

And he could have been talking about a lot of things. Why Kirishima left, why Kirishima saved him, why Kirishima never contacted him. But it broke down the barrier of pleasantries and uneasiness. These two men needed to exchange the truth, with no more lies to hide behind, and they both knew it. 

Kirishima took two big steps forward, coming to rest in front of Bakugou, looking down to stare into the red eyes that had haunted his dreams. 

“There has never been a single moment that I don’t regret leaving you,” Kirishima earnestly said, hesitantly raising his hands to cup Bakugou’s face between his palms. 

Are we worth more than our mistakes? Do our bad decisions encompass who we are? 

“I don’t think I ever stopped loving you,” Bakugou admitted quietly. He closed his eyes as a brief expression of pain flashed across his face.

Love sets you up for disappointment. 

“I never could look at anyone else without comparing them to you.” 

Kirishima was startled at the admission, and he couldn’t help the surprise that flashed across his face when he looked Bakugou in the eyes. Eyes that were so familiar, yet like nothing he’d ever seen before. 

“Katsuki, you’ve always been it for me, and that will never change,” Kirishima breathed, taking a chance, pushing the fragile line drawn between them. 

To put your life in another’s hands, when they’ve already failed you once before? 

“I can’t risk getting you and losing you again,” Bakugou said, his voice raw, despite the way he yearned to give in without question, to trust without doubt. “You don’t- You don’t even know me anymore, Eijirou. It’s been ten years. I’ve changed. You’ve changed. I can’t just- go back to the way things were.” 

And Kirishima understood. He didn’t want to go back to the way things were either. 

“Maybe… we could start something new?” Kirishima’s voice hadn’t been so unsteady, so unsure, in such a long time, but it was a glimpse of the boy Bakugou had fallen in love with. 

And it comes down to this, Bakugou thought to himself. Am I ready to spend the rest of my life wishing for him? Do I want to spend countless nights regretting turning him away? Is Kirishima worth it, despite everything? 

And, well, when you put it like that, the answer’s almost too easy. 

Because of course he was. 

Chapter Text

The wind blew through Bakugou’s hair, but Kirishima was more focused on the bright, shining smile on his face. It was a look Kirishima had never seen so clearly, and his heart sang at the knowledge that it was him who had put that look there. 

Sakura trees were in full blossom around the two of them, and instinctively Kirishima knew about Bakugou’s dream to engage in Hanami, and he was thrilled he had succeeded in fulfilling a desire of Bakugou’s. 

Bakugou’s mouth was moving, but Kirishima couldn’t hear him over the rushing in his ears. He suddenly lifted his hand to point at something behind Kirishima, his face morphing into a look of fear and disgust. 

Kirishima turned around, and then the sakura trees were gone, and it was only him, left staring into the mirror he used to hang over his dresser in highschool. Blood Riot stared out at him, eyes malicious as the fangs in his mask began to drip blood. 

“Don’t forget who you really are, Eijirou,” His reflection said, and it was only then Kirishima was suddenly aware of the fact that he’d been eighteen again the entire time. 

A hand landed on Kirishima’s shoulder, and twenty-nine year old Mina appeared in the mirror next to Blood Riot, her eyes full of judgment, her mouth repeating words she’d told him a decade ago. “Bakugou doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.” 

“You can’t have both,” Blood Riot hissed, his eyes full of triumph. “You already chose me over Katsuki, Eijirou. It’s too late.” 

And then Bakugou was walking through the mirror, making it dissolve into mist. He was older than Kirishima remembered, stress lines etched into his forehead, tired rings under his eyes. “It’s been ten years. I’ve changed. You’ve changed .” 

“But I still love you,” Kirishima heard himself say. 

Adult Bakugou shook his head at teenage Kirishima sadly. “When has that ever changed anything?” 

Kirishima’s eyes jolted open, his breathing harsh and heavy in the dark silence of his bedroom, his mind still seeing the dream, still hearing Bakugou speaking. The dismay and distress he had been feeling in his dream lingered in his thoughts, and it took Kirishima a moment to realize there were tears running down his face, leaking from the corners of his eyes down to his ears. 

The dream hit a little too close to home, and, Kirishima thought ruthfully, and it had about the worst timing possible considering that the next day he had his first date with Bakugou. 

Holy shit, tomorrow is his first date with Bakugou! 

Kirishima shoved his blanket off his body, sighing as he saw the time reflected on the digital clock on his nightstand. 3:04 in the morning, great. He knew there was no point in trying to go back to bed now, not with the self-deprecating thoughts crowding his head. 

This will never work. You’re a coward, and that’s all he sees when he looks at you. 

He’ll never be able to forgive you for what you did, not really. 

Bakugou will never trust you with his heart. 

You’re nothing like the boy he fell in love with. What happens when he’s disgusted by the man you’ve become? 

That last thought hit a little harder than the others, and with a grimace, Kirishima sat up and threw his legs over the side of his bed, forcing himself to get up and head out his bedroom door, through his office, back to the hallway and then into the Squad Room. 

If there was one thing he’d learned from Shinsou, it’s that a good cup of tea may not necessarily help you sleep but it’ll sure as hell make you feel better now that you’re stuck awake in the early hours of the morning. 

After taking the quick route and microwaving a cup of water for two minutes, Kirishima dropped a teabag in it to steep as he collapsed tiredly on the couch. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling the steam drifting into his face. 

Is this going to work? 

~~~

Bakugou looked at himself sternly in the mirror. If this is going to work, you have to let go of the fucking past. 

His reflection stared back, expression unreadable. But how? 

He slipped in a silver hoop into one of his cartilage piercings, then another into the one above it, thinking hard about his own question. 

Because that was what his future was riding on, undoubtedly. 

And, in the end, Bakugou thought to himself, it was like that one quote he’d seen somewhere. Nostalgia was a bitch who insists things were better than they actually were.  

He was close to something, he could feel it. Another two silver hoop earrings slipped into place on his other ear. 

And surely, surely this time they could make their present far better than their past ever was. Yes. Bakugou stood up straight in his mirror, dusting invisible lint off his shirt, running his fingers through his hair, and making sure his glare still looked sufficiently mean. 

That was the key, Bakugou told himself. He’d fucking figured it out. All he had to do was make the present better than the past had ever been. He just had to love more wisely- as a thirty year old with life experience, instead of an eighteen year old still in high school- and then their relationship would have a better chance of flourishing. 

And well, fuck. If after all this it still doesn’t work, then Kirishima and I were just never meant to be in the first place. 

~~~

Bakugou raised his eyes to glance across the restaurant, searching for the color of red that had always felt familiar. And immediately, his eyes fell upon a glaring monstrosity of color sitting in a booth in the corner, taking up one side almost entirely by himself. 

Kirishima’s grin wasn’t the only thing that was blinding about him, and Bakugou couldn’t help but squint slightly as he approached the neon pink short-sleeve button-up shirt with tiny pineapples on it, pairing with teal shorts that he could see from under the table. A small part of Bakugou’s brain couldn’t help but point out how nicely the shirt stretched over Kirishima’s broad shoulders, and the way his biceps bulged under the material. 

In great contrast, Bakugou slid into the other side of the booth, black button-up slightly wrinkled with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, white Doc Martens thudding down, and every one of his silver piercings slipped in. His black jeans were tight, tighter than Bakugou ever wore, and it was safe to say he was feeling hotter than he had in years. 

“Hi,” Kirishima breathed. “You look… fantastic.” 

“Not so fucking bad yourself,” Bakugou smirked. “The pineapples are certainly a choice.” 

Kirishima’s face flushed slightly, and he glanced down at himself before quickly looking back up at Bakugou. “I changed four times,” he admitted sheepishly, yet still grinning. “Wanted to look perfect for this.” 

And god if that didn’t make Bakugou’s heart beat a little faster. The tips of his ears went red, and he grabbed at one of the menus lying on the table. “Do you know what you want, Red?” 

“Red?” Kirishima asked. 

“Yeah. Need a new name since I can’t call you shitty hair anymore,” Bakugou explained without looking up, furrowing his brow as his eyes darted across the menu. 

“Why not?” Kirishima asked, still confused. 

Bakugou glanced up over his menu, and kicked one of his feet lightly into Kirishima’s shins. “We’re supposed to be starting something new, don’t you remember?” 

Heat rose in Kirishima’s face, and he didn’t know what to make of the strange thumping in his chest at Bakugou’s words. 

“So,” Kirishima started, propping his elbows on the table, “You want to get rid of everything that we had before?” 

Bakugou set down the menu, looking up at Kirishima to give him his full attention. “It’s gonna be impossible to not repeat something , but I don’t want this to be a replay of the relationship we had ten years ago, Kirishima. I want this version of you to date this version of me.” 

“But…what happens if you don’t like who I’ve become?” Kirishima whispered, his voice vulnerable but his eyes staring hard into Bakugou’s, tougher and more ruthless than the boy he was before. 

“Oh come on, Red,” Bakugou said, and there was a familiar fire in his eyes and challenge in his words that still lit a spark in Kirishima’s bones. “You already made me fall in love with you once. Surely you can do it again.”