❝ 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 . ❞ [ Katsuki Bakugo x reader ]

03

"A long time," You said vaguely.

"Where are we going?" Bakugo questioned. He seemed to be firing one after the other, wasn't he? He sure was curious.

"You'll know when we get there," You told him. In truth, you would also know when you arrived. Before he could come up with his next question, you turned on the car radio. You messed with the dial until you found a station that played clearly.

𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙽𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴...

For nearly three hours, UA staff and law enforcement officers had been hashing and rehashing the summer training camp incident. The students getting attacked was one thing, but discovering a student had been kidnapped was another entirely.

"It appears we have no other alternatives," Principle Nezu spoke. "We should go forward with the original plan." The others nodded in agreement. They recognized how much of a dead-end they were met with. They had a good plan, they even knew where The League of Villains were hiding.

Each member of the meeting was worried in one way or another. But it hit the 1-A homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa, particularly hard. Guilt raked over his mind, too heavy to ignore. With every second that passed, it ate him alive.

Suddenly, Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi burst into the meeting room. Everyone saw the distraught expression written across his face. He had stepped out of the meeting to answer a phone call and was still holding the device in his hand.

"Katsuki Bakugo was seen downtown an hour ago," Detective Tsukauchi announced, almost out of breath. "Someone called in, she saw her neighbors with someone who fit his description. They also heard loud arguing." Aizawa perked up, a twinge of hope flickering in his chest. Why would The League of Villains be so careless as to go out into the open with the one they just kidnapped?

"Was he with anyone we can identify?" Principle Nezu asked, in hopes of turning up some good news. They were in need of good news at the moment.

"No, the woman who called wasn't able to name who was with him," Detective Tsukauchi explained. "But we have an address and the go-ahead to investigate the apartment complex." It was nearly instantly decided that Detective Tsukauchi and Aizawa would go to search the building.

It was not unsurprising that the building was in desperate need of repair. A villain would hide in a place like this, Detective Tsukauchi rationalized. With a quick flash of his badge, he, Aizawa, and a few uniformed officers waltzed inside. The stairs creaked under their feet as they climbed to the third floor. City noise rushed to meet their ears, like dogs barking and sirens sounding, and a strange smell greeted them.

They saw the apartment number the woman on the phone specified. The officers remained on edge, hands placed on their guns. Detective Tsukauchi knocked three times. No one came to answer.

"It's the police, open up!" One of the officers shouted with authority. Since they had no response, they let themselves in. The door was nearly knocked off its hinges as they threw it open. At first glance, the apartment appeared to be harmless.

There was bland furniture, dust setting on surfaces, and clutter strewed about. Whoever lives here doesn't take very good care of the place, Detective Tsukauchi thought. As he poked around, he began to lose hope. It looked like a perfectly ordinary home. But upon further inspection--

"I think we're in the right place," Aizawa said loudly with a small sigh.

"What makes you say that?" Detective Tsukauchi wondered. He approached the teacher, who was crouching in the living room near a beat-up coffee table. Instead of providing a verbal response, Aizawa simply showed the detective what he found tapped to the underside of the table: a gun.

"Detective, we found weapons in the bedroom!" An officer called from the hallway. It was becoming more and more clear they were dealing with someone who was no stranger to crime. Who knew what kind of trouble Bakugo was in.

...

Your feet hit the pavement and you slammed the car door shut. You slung the duffle bag over your shoulder and locked the truck. Bakugo followed you without needing to be asked to. You walked from the parking lot to the office of the cheap, and most likely unsanitary, motel.

"Two beds." You placed a small amount of cash onto the counter and the attendant tossed you a key. They were utterly uninterested, just the way you liked it.

"How many days?" They asked, not bothering to look up from their magazine. Your answer came from halfway out the door,

"Not long."

𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳...