PopRocks

An Unfortunate Evening of Failure

Also, I warn that I am not the greatest with Chapter titles so bear with me.
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Bakugou ran with what was as close to a smile as he could muster. The grin looked more wicked than triumphant but it was still a form of smile all the same. His feet thumped against the rocky ground as he ran, his rough hands with fingers calloused from years of strain clutched tightly around a warm loaf of bread, one that he'd snatched from right under the baker's nose. He swore sometimes people could be so oblivious, thinking there was nothing in the world to worry about.

He had to give the baker credit though, he'd caught on quick when he'd noticed Bakugou sneaking out through the dilapidated wooden door. The old fool had ran out after him, sending the boy scrambling as he called aloud for the palace guards that littered the streets.

Here Bakugou was now, running from the guards with a heavy beating heart. His body maneuvered through narrow gaps between table markets that sold vegetables, fruits, cloths - essentially anything that could be sold. He knew the guards were right on his heels so it was impossible for him to stop and admire the goods he knew damn well he couldn't afford.

Bakugou was in decent health but he hadn't had nearly enough food to keep his energy up for long. His empty stomach sent cramping pains through his body, making him slower.

Soon, he was too fatigued to keep running but he refused to go down without a fight. As he came to a stop, he turned on his heels, hands dropping to skim across the ground beside him to ensure he didn't fall. The stones underfoot scraped his finger tips, bringing a grin to his face. The guards scrambled to a stop, confusion settling on their expressions as they glanced to one another in question. He knew they had no way to know his intentions but they should know better to underestimate a cornered beast.

With a grunt, Bakugou was standing up straight again, his left fist flying in without hesitation to slam into one guards jaw. The impact vibrated in Bakugou's clenched fist, a malicious smile of satisfaction curling across his features as the man's eyes widened in shock and pain. It didn't send him crumpling to the ground but gave Bakugou just enough time to connect the heel of his foot with the others leg. His foot landed right on the back of the man's knee, twisting his leg and making the enforcer drop to one foot.

He had to admit, he did enjoy a fight. It made him feel alive. Feel free. He didn't intentionally pick fights though. He knew he didn't have the luck to be able to do that. Besides, it was a useless past time to fight people who hadn't done anything to provoke you. Though he believed that, he also believed one other thing; guards are assholes.

Bakugou sucked in an exhausted breath and brought his knee into the bastard's face, a sharp crack slicing though the air. The guards hands jerked up to his face as he hit the ground and Bakugou could just barely make out the blood that seeped through his fingers.

Bakugou snorted at that. He'd broken the bastard's nose, ensuring that he'd be in for it later. In his distracted state, Bakugou felt a large weight wrap  around one of his biceps. The sensation sent him spinning around, fist flying in defensive shock. His fist connected with a hard chest and in return he only received a disgusted and unbothered grunt.

The man holding him was not like the other two guards he'd faced. The man was tall and muscular, shoulders wide with years of training. The man's face sported a disinterested look that was directed at Bakugou, his lips forming a frown that spelled out distaste.

"A shrimp like you is giving my enforcers a hard time," he questioned, his voice glazed with skepticism.

His men? A squad Captain perhaps? Mentally Bakugou groaned, he was in big trouble now.