In Bakugou Katsuki's expert opinion, he was not at fault for the kitchen being blown up. No, the blame fell to his bitch ass mom, who decided to turn on the TV at full volume. Bakugou had been washing the dishes (maybe or maybe not scrubbing with more force than necessary just to spite the old hag). That was when he heard it, the words that had made his hands ignite and shatter the glass in his hand.
'Midoriya Izuku, age fifteen, has gone missing; presumed to have been kidnapped by the League of Villains.'
Oh boy, people thought they'd seen him mad before? That moment trumped all of his other fits by a goddamn light year. The walls of apartments several blocks away shook under the combination of his explosions and incomprehensible screaming. More than one call was made to the police that night, the callers fearing that a villain was on the loose. This was something much, much worse however: Bakugou Katsuki on a warpath.
It was only after the authorities had left and his mother finally got off his damn back that he could think properly. Everything before that had been a haze of fury. A fog so thick he could have choked in it if he'd stayed submerged any longer. Why the hell did he care anyways? It was Deku, the useless shitbag who'd sought to spite him at every turn. First by getting into Yuuei, then by...... Something, he was sure of it, he just couldn't think of it right then, that was all. Point is, Deku might as well have been a universal constant – the ever-present source of irritation in his life. He was useless, but Katsuki didn't think he was so useless as to get caught by fucking villains. It showed how much the little shit always wanted to prove him wrong. Which was stupid, because he was - and always would be - right.
At school two days later, Katsuki noticed how three certain classmates kept sending glances to one another as the lessons went on. It pissed him off, and he ended up getting scolded for breaking his pencils more times than he cared to remember.
Those bastards knew something he didn't, and there were few things that could get him more pissed than that. Unfortunately the teachers were everywhere now, constantly watching their students like fucking hawks. All Katsuki could do was fume silently as he watched the three go about their day. He could smell the smoke from his palms as he skulked down the street, his thoughts elsewhere.
Why would villains even bother with Deku? He wasn't strong, he definitely didn't have a Quirk, and he was about as brave as a goddamn doormat. Not much to steal there, except maybe for his giant nerd brain. Could that be why they took him? He'd been so enveloped in his thoughts he almost walked straight into the guy in front of him.
"Watch where you're going, fucknut!" He growled, shoving past them and stomping away. He stopped short when a familiar black mist began to gather in front of him. "Oh hell no." His hands ignited small explosions - a warm up for the main event - when someone shoved him from behind. It was the bastard that had gotten in his way. The piece of shit was smiling like he'd won the goddamn lottery as Bakugou tumbled into the warp gate.
The sensation of warping wasn't pleasant - like being pulled in every direction while spinning rapidly. A wave of vertigo hit him like a train before the world finally righted itself and he hit the floor. Katsuki suppressed the urge to vomit; he wasn't a little bitch that couldn't handle a little dizziness.
Someone spoke from above him. "Well, that was easier than expected."
Oh that was it. First they had the balls to kidnap him, then they insulted his combat abilities? A dead man was right in front him. Bakugou shot up from his place on the floor, his palms sparking furiously as he lunged for the voice's owner. He covered his grunt of pain with an angry roar as something grabbed him from behind and shoved him back onto the floor.
The voice spoke again, "Ah, there's the fight we'd anticipated." His hair was harshly tugged, forcing him to look up. He bristled at who he saw.
"You," He snarled. "You're the freak that showed up with that misty fuck at the USJ."
"Not exactly how I'd describe Kurogiri," The gaunt man stated, a tone of amusement sneaking in. "But yes, I am Shiragaki Tomura. The League has taken interest in you, Bakugou."
"And why the ever living fuck should I care?" The blond snapped. He growled as the pressure on his back increased. "You'd better watch it, ya shit stain; I'm not in the goddamn mood for this fuckery. You're all getting a goddamn explosion to the face when I get up, asshats."
"Why should you care, indeed?" Shiragaki mulled, "How about another teen we have in custody?" Cracked lips pulled into a smirk as Bakugou stiffened. "Our sources said that you knew each other when you were younger, but fell out of touch after your Quirk manifested and his didn't."
"Forget an explosion to the face," Bakugou stated, his rage growing to new heights. "When I'm through with all of you, there won't be a goddamn body left!"
Shiragaki leaned towards Bakugou, looking him square in the face. "How about this?" he said, "We let him go, but you have to do something for us in return. Nothing big, just a fight with someone from our ranks. If you win, both you and Midoriya Izuku go free; if you lose, only you are allowed to leave. It's easy enough to understand."
Bakugou was silent. A fight with a villain? Over Deku? Why the hell did this guy think that this'd work? His mind flashed to over a year ago, when he was struggling for breath around a suffocating slime. He'd die before he would ever admit aloud, but the damn idiot had saved him back then. Saved him and never asked for anything in return. No blackmail, not even a mention that it had ever happened. He owed the fucker one, and he hated being in debt.
"Deal."
Kuroda sighed as he flopped down onto the plush hotel bed, letting out a groan as the day's events came back in a rush.
Sometimes he forgot that his brother could actually get shit done when he needed to. He would get this aura around him that made anyone who could feel it hurry to give him what he wanted. That group of teens was no different. They had spilled their guts the moment Kei had fixed them with a stare and began to ask questions in his standard, no-nonsense tone. After he'd gotten everything he needed, he handed them his number, instructing them to call if anything else came up.
Speak of the devil: Kei came out of the bathroom, toweling his hair. Kuroda snorted at the pyjamas his older brother was wearing. Kei shot him a withering look.
"It's completely normal for a grown man to have nightwear, Kuroda. Not everyone is a heathen that sleeps in their day clothes."
"Yeah, yeah." Kuroda dismissed, waving his hand carelessly through the air. "Did you tell the kids where we were meeting up?"
Kei sat down on his own bed. "Yes. I hope you don't mind that it's at yours and your student's warehouse."
Izuku... Kuroda's mood dimmed the moment he started to think about his student. From what Kei had gathered, he'd been concussed when he was taken and likely had at least one or two bone fractures. He'd wake up in the League's claws confused, alone, and scared. Izuku was still a sensitive kid, despite everything that Kuroda had taught him. The damn teen would even start sniffling when a dog died in a movie, though Kuroda refused to admit that his eyes had teared up as well.
Kuroda wasn't Izuku's dad. Hell, the kid's first impression of him was taking down a thug for Christ's sake; but that didn't stop him from giving a damn about Izuku's wellbeing like a father should. When he found the knuckleheads that hurt his student... well, there was a damn good reason he'd been feared by all of the crime rings in Japan. Maybe they needed a reminder. He was snapped out of his thoughts by a pillow smacking him on the face.
"You're thinking too much." Kei stated, a hint of a smile on his face when Kuroda let out a squawk of surprise and fell over. "Get some sleep, my stupid little brother. Midoriya will need you at your best if you're going to help him."
Kuroda nodded, a little dazed from the amount of force behind the pillow projectile. Had his brother always had such a good throwing arm? "Yeah... thanks, Kei."
His brother had already settled himself under the covers, "Someone has to keep you on task." Kei snarked, "Goodnight, Kuroda." With that, he reached an arm over and turned the light off.
Kuroda stared at the ceiling, managing one last thought as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with him and he fell asleep. 'Don't worry, kid. I'm coming for you, and I've got backup.'
True to form, Kei had Kuroda and himself at the warehouse a good fifteen minutes before the group of teens were supposed to arrive. Kuroda paced around, randomly picking things up and inspecting them like he hadn't seen them a thousand times before, while Kei watched from his seat on the creaky old couch, thoroughly annoyed.
"If you always do this when you're stressed, I'm surprised you haven't worn a trail into the concrete." The older man stated. He sneezed as a few specks of dust made their way across his face. "When was the last time you properly cleaned this place?"
"Depends, how many years ago did I leave Japan?" Kuroda shot back, fiddling with a few of the practice bo staffs propped against a tumbling mat. "I've been training a vigilante, my priorities haven't exactly been up to your standards, Kei."
Kei sighed, "When are they ever?"
Before Kuroda could reply, the door creaked open and five young faces peeked in. He immediately abandoned what he was doing to focus on the group as they entered. "Okay, you're here. Good, that's good. Now we start to plan." He gestured to the other couch across from the one Kei currently seated on. "Sit down, kiddos."
The five of them looked all around as they sat, taking in all of the training equipment and practice weapons scattered all over the warehouse.
"Wow," the frizzy haired one, Kahiro, said in awe. "This is where you trained Midoriya?"
Kuroda couldn't help the way his chest puffed in pride, "Yep."
One of the blue haired kids, the one that looked like he needed a week of sleep, looked around approvingly. "Well, that's one mystery solved." He blinked when he noticed that everyone was staring at him in confusion. "The dodgeball match for PE, we saw Midoriya without his shirt. The guy's ripped."
"Not the point here." Todoroki cut in, fixing his mismatched eyes onto Kuroda's own gray ones. "We're here to plan a rescue, let's keep on task. Midoriya needs us to get him out of wherever he is as fast as we can manage."
Kei, who'd been checking his phone with a frankly concerning furrow of his brows, spoke up. "He's right," He said, pocketing the phone into his jacket. "One of your classmates was abducted about half an hour ago, witness accounts make it not unreasonable to assume the League is behind it."
"What?" Uraraka gasped, "Who?" The group shifted nervously around her, unsure of what to do.
"Bakugou Katsuki was last seen being shoved into a warp gate on his way home from school." Kei stated, leaning forward. "It was fast, unexpected, and smart. It's safe to assume they have something planned that involves both Midoriya and Bakugou, and it won't be good."
"Where will we know to start?" The bespectacled teen (Iida, if Kuroda wasn't mistaken) asked. "While the warp gate could have a limited distance, we don't know what that is. They could be in another country by now."
Silence. Everyone stilled as the hopelessness started to take root in their hearts. They all looked to Kuroda as the man darted to the nearby desk and began to sort through its contents with fervour. The man let out a triumphant "aha!" as he picked up a small device and held it up. "When I was getting Izuku's suit designed, I had tracking chips sewn into almost every part of the suit." He explained, walking back to the group to display his find. "As long as he's still in the suit, we'll know exactly where he is."
There was silence as the others processed just what Kuroda was saying. Suddenly, things weren't looking as bad. "Little brother," Kei began, "Just this once, I may have underestimated you.
Kuroda grinned, a little in triumph and a little in relief as he turned the device on. "You always do, big brother," he said as the machine started to give off shrill pings and a small red dot appeared on the screen. "You always do."
Izuku's waking was similar to getting knocked out, but in reverse. He went from complete oblivion to consciousness in the span of about two seconds. He shot up from his position, immediately registering the IV in his arm and the musty smell all around him. Where was he? His memories hit him like a truck: teaming up with the Hero-Killer, getting kicked by Iida, the Noumu that picked him up-
He could feel the goose bumps under his armour as his adrenaline spiked. He'd been kidnapped by the League.
As carefully as he could manage with a shaking hand, he slid the IV out of the fleshy part of his arm. Ok, now that that's done, what next? Right, scope the place out. He was alone, thank goodness, but there was no telling how long that would last. He swung his legs down and stood shakily. Using the IV stand as support, he steadily made his way around his prison. From the look of the walls and the smell, he was in some sort of basement. He tried not to think about how the room was far too dusty to still be in regular use. His neck craned up as a shrill creak came from the ceiling. Izuku squinted as an influx of light filtered in and a compact ladder descended. Izuku immediately prepared for a fight when he saw the yellow eyes of Kurogiri looking down at him. The misty villain came down the ladder, giving Izuku a nonplussed look.
"There's no need for that now, Kuroko. We're under orders not to hurt you."
Izuku carefully relaxed, still maintaining a respectful distance from the villain. "Forgive me if I don't quite trust you." He stated warily, his eyes constantly flicking to and fro to analyse and reassess his situation.
"Not at all, I was expecting it." Kurogiri clicked his tongue when he noticed Izuku's arm. "At least you had the sense not to rip your IV out."
"Seemed a bit counter productive," Izuku shot back, "After you went through all the effort of healing me."
Kurogiri politely nodded his head. "An unplanned occurrence, I assure you. Shiragaki wanted to disintegrate you on the spot once we came back."
Izuku ignored the shiver that went down his spine. "Then what stopped him? From what I've seen, you're more of a glorified babysitter than a co-leader. No offence." He said. Izuku startled slightly when the man let out a chuckle. It wasn't quite a full laugh, but close enough to one to tell Izuku the villain was amused.
"That was not on my part, no." Kurogiri admitted, "It's not so much of a 'what', more of a 'who'. He has taken an interest in you, being such a renowned vigilante in spite being Quirkless."
He knew he probably should have a bit more tact, but shoving something that personal in his face made him throw any notion of tact right out the window. "It's not a disability, you know." Izuku stated, "Everyone seems to think it is, but it's not."
"My apologies," The villain said, clearly not apologetic in the slightest. "This man, Shiragaki's master, would like to speak to you."
Izuku chewed the inside of his cheek. "Not like I have a choice. I'm not in a position to say no."
"No," Kurogiri agreed, "you aren't. Follow me, please." At that, the man turned and began to climb back up the ladder. Izuku followed him with a dual sense of reluctance and dread roiling in his gut. When he emerged, the teen immediately began taking mental stock of the details in the unfamiliar room.
It was a bar, albeit a small one, but a bar nonetheless. That at least explained Kurogiri's attire. Various men and women alike, some of which he recognised from the USJ, looked up as they came in. Well, wasn't this just fun. First he gets kidnapped, now he's standing in a room with people that wouldn't hesitate to kill him given half the chance. Peachy. The misty villain paid no mind to their stares, gesturing for Izuku to follow. They made their way across the bar to what looked like an office door. The teen took a breath. He'd fought these people before and won, he could do it again if needed. That's what he told himself as he walked across the room, eyes boring into his back as he passed.
Kurogiri opened the door for him, stepping in and firmly shutting it with a click. It was dim, that was the first thing Izuku noticed. The main source of light came from a bare lightbulb overhead and the glow of several computer screens. Izuku stiffened as a voice, simultaneously smooth and gravelly, spoke from the speakers.
"Greetings, Midoriya Izuku, you may call me Sensei. I hope that Shiragaki has been treating you well."
The underlying question was not missed by the green haired teen. "Uh...." Just what the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn't exactly getting welcoming vibes from the silhouette on the screen, he'd have to be careful. "Well enough. I'm alive."
"And I am happy for that." The figure sure didn't sound happy, more vaguely amused than anything. Izuku wasn't sure which one was worse. "Sit down, I have some questions for you, and I'm sure you have some yourself."
Slowly, Izuku sat down on the plush spinning chair that rested in front of the main screen. The cushions felt like concrete to him as he was stared down by the mysterious man on the other side of the computer. "It's not like I can run." He said, his voice shaking. Damnit, he can't show weakness here. Not now, not in front of a man he's willing to bet even Kuroda didn't know existed.
This man was on another level. Lifetimes ahead. His presence alone had Izuku on edge. Shit, get it together. Act like he's any other villain you've fought. Except this villain was about twenty times more intimidating. His jaw tightened and his hands curled into fists when the man, 'Sensei', let out a laugh.
"It is okay to be afraid, Midoriya." The figure said, voice crackling over the static of the speakers. He definitely had a voice modifier, maybe several. "Fear is universal. Villains, heroes and even you - someone stuck in between the two - feel it."
Izuku remained silent, mentally taking note of anything he could gather from this man. From the general shape of the silhouette, he seemed to be bald. The lack of clothing folds on his arms would only come from expensive, tailored fabrics. (Either that or he was straight up naked. Gross.) Maybe some sort of crime ring leader? No, this guy was something ancient. Just who - or what - was he talking to?
"I can't really afford to be afraid now, Sensei." Izuku stated, his breaths carefully measured to hopefully hide the anxiety buzzing under his skin. "How many days was I unconscious?"
"About three days." Kurogiri supplied from behind him, making him flinch ever so slightly. Oh jeez, he didn't even want to think about how pissed Kuroda was going to be when he got out. When, not if. He would get out of here, somehow. Even if he had to break a few bones to do so.
Sensei spoke up, interrupting Izuku's thoughts. "You've caught my attention, Midoriya. Not many manage to do that."
Izuku had a feeling he shouldn't be proud about that.
Sensei continued, "Do you know how, when Quirks first came about, they were feared? Even discriminated against?"
The teen hesitantly nodded, "In History class, yes."
"Ah, but why not hear it from a man who lived through it?" Sensei inquired.
"No one can live that long." Izuku said, a creeping suspicion settling in his stomach. "Not even with a Quirk. You'd have to be at least two hundred years old."
The man behind the screen ignored his oppositions. "Quirks manifest in many ways," He began, "It wouldn't be impossible for one to allow its user to take another's Quirk, permanently."
Izuku felt like he'd been dunked in ice water. A Quirk that let you steal another's? Forget intimidating, this man was outright terrifying and he wasn't even in the room. The older side of him, the one that used to gush over heroes constantly, immediately started bursting with questions. Would he have to be physically there to steal the quirk? Or did he just have to talk to them, like Shinshou's brainwashing? And did the quirks combine, or stay separate? So many possibilities with a Quirk that shouldn't have even existed.
"You're a smart child, Midoriya. I'm sure you've already figured it out." Sensei stated, snapping Izuku out of his inner thoughts.
"It's not possible." Izuku said, maybe a little hysterically. "No one can live that long. No one can have a Quirk like that. It's unheard of."
"So is a notorious vigilante being Quirkless." Sensei retorted. His figure shifted, like he was leaning his chin on his hands. "Yet here I am and here you are. We make quite a pair: two living contradictions to the standards set by today's society."
Izuku's finger's twitched, spasmed really, when the man said that. What was this guy's endgame? If what he's saying was true, then 'Sensei' (Which was definitely a pseudonym) was over two hundred years old, at least. Not only that, he had a Quirk that took others. In a society that had numerous jobs relying on Quirks, the sheer amount of damage someone could do with that was - frankly - horrifying beyond belief. Economies could topple within weeks, countries following soon after. If Sensei decided to take a more active role..... Izuku hoped he'd never have to see that day come.
"My Quirk, All For One, has one more ability you would be interested to know, young Midoriya." He paused, making sure that Izuku was paying attention. "I can give the Quirks I take to other people."
What.
"Of course, unless they don't have a Quirk, the side effects are rather unpleasant. You've met the results of failed Quirk transfers, both at the USJ and recently, in Hosu."
Oh god, the Noumu. The way one in Hosu convulsed under him, desperate and in pain before the Hero-Killer's sword pierced it's brain and- If Izuku didn't still have his helmet on he would have clapped a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back the bile in his throat. The Noumu were human, humans with Quirks that didn't belong to them forced into their brains. How many did Stain kill in Hosu?
How many people did he help Stain murder?
This man, this monster talked on, like he was speaking about the weather instead of human experimentation. "However, there have been some.... Interesting developments when I transfer a Quirk to someone who didn't have one originally." Izuku stiffened, and Sensei continued. "You see, a Quirk develops in a certain part of the brain. When a Quirk is introduced to a brain which has already been moulded for a specific Quirk, the mental strain renders the subject in a vegetative state. Yet for a Quirkless person, their section of the brain hasn't been moulded to a specific Quirk, mainly due to a lack of one. Every Quirkless person I've bestowed a Quirk to had their brain accept it and make it their own. Essentially, the end result is like they'd been born with the Quirk in the first place."
"Why are you telling me this?" Izuku questioned, anxiety boiling a hole through his insides. He already had an idea why, and it certainly didn't bode well for him.
Sensei sat back in his chair, a nearly inaudible creak coming from the speakers. "Because, I'm willing to make you an offer, Midoriya. You've proven your ability to make a difference, that stunt on the radio has civilians up in arms to protect the heroes. You've set back a lot of plans for at least a few months, but you can't hold them off forever. Here is the offer: Join the League and attain any Quirk of your choosing, or refuse and face the consequence."
Ever since he'd found out he was Quirkless, Izuku had wanted to have a Quirk. To be considered normal by the people around him, that was all he could ever wish for. For years he'd laid low, tried to remain in the background yet also trying to rise above everyone's scorn. Then a reality check and an ex-vigilante came crashing into his life to change everything.
He didn't lay low anymore, he faced the world with a smile on his face and a Bo in his hands. He made the background into the main stage, his obscurity becoming the focus of all Japan. He had friends now, friends who were looking for him, no doubt. He had a detective who was both a friend and a foe on his side, and most likely working himself to the bone to find him.
Above all, he had Kuroda. Kuroda, who in a year became a keystone to Izuku's life; and the man who would tear Japan - no, the world - apart to make sure that he was safe. All he had to do was hold out until then. They were doing their part, now he had to do his.
When he spoke, even Kurogiri was caught off guard by the confidence in his statement. "I've made it this far without a Quirk, what makes you think that I'd want one now? Call it bad luck, call it a crappy hand fate dealt me; but I am Midoria Izuku, I am Quirkless, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
"You're making a mistake, Midoriya." Sensei said, an edge in his voice.
Maybe he should have been scared of the underlying threat, but Izuku just smiled under his helmet. He would be fine, he just had to last long enough for Kuroda to find him. He could manage that. "No, I'm really not."
Sensei sighed, "Unfortunately, this was expected. Would you rather walk on your own two legs to your punishment, or will Kurogiri have to force you?"
Izuku stood, the chair making a loud groan at the sudden release of pressure. "I'll walk, thank you." With his chin held high, Kuroko turned from the chair and walked into the warp gate Kurogiri had waiting. The screens flickered off, the lack of their glow leaving the room in near darkness.
Kuroko squinted at the glaring light that assaulted his eyes once he stepped out of the warp gate. He ignored the wave of sudden nausea to look around and take in his surroundings.
He was in some sort of makeshift arena, metal and concrete strapped together haphazardly to make some sort of ring around the open field of concrete beneath him. Portable sports lights were set up just outside the walls, their incessant buzzing filling the open space. It was only a trained eye that could spot the several cameras set up around the borders of the arena.
That wasn't what caught him off guard, though. No, that would be the blonde standing at the other side, still in the familiar uniform of Yuuei.
K-Kaachan?!
Bakugou Katsuki stood a mere ten meters away, and Kuroko nearly flinched when the fellow teen's red eyes locked onto him.
"This is the fucker I'm supposed to fight?" He questioned, leaning forward and squinting a little. "Wait a minute... you're that other fucker from the USJ! Kuroko or some shit like that?" This time, Kuroko took a step back as Bakugou's hands started to crackle. "You piece of utter shit! You have the balls to call yourself a damn vigilante and you join these motherfuckers?!"
Kuroko blinked in surprise, just what the hell was Kaachan saying? "Excuse me?"
Bakugou started forwards, "You fucking-" A loud voice came in over the speakers, effectively stopping the blond from actually advancing.
"Hello, citizens of Japan!" An entirely too chipper voice said, "We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to show you a special little treat! Renowned Vigilante of Japan, Kuroko being pit against the hero in the making: Bakugou Katsuki!"
Izuku's head whipped to the closest speaker, "What?!" He demanded, turning back to focus on Katsuki, who still looked ready to send a explosion to his face.
The announcer continued, ignoring Kuroko's outcry. "The terms of this fight are simple: this will be a fight to the death, all attacks are considered allowed, so long as you stay in the ring. Surrendering is not an option, you must fight until your opponent stops breathing! Ready?"
"You're going down, fucker." Katsuki growled, settling into his fighting stance.
"Three!"
"I don't want to fight you," Kuroko borderline pleaded with the teen. Being forced to fight Katsuki of all people. What new level of hell was this?
"Two!"
The blond didn't listen. "You don't have a choice, you fuckass."
"One!"
Kuroko fell into a defensive stance, pointedly ignoring the way his throat started to tighten in sheer fear. "It seems I don't."
"Zero! Begin!"
Katsuki rushed him.
Yuuei's teachers lounge was silent, several heroes having their eyes locked on the screen before them. Principal Nedzu stood at the very front of the small crowd, his uncharacteristic frown putting all of the heroes on edge. "My," the mouselike man said, "This is quite the problem."
"What are we going to do, director?" Midnight asked, flinching somewhat when their student set off a particularly big explosion on screen. "At this rate, one of them will be dead before we get there."
"I've already contacted police forces, they're trying their best to trace the broadcast." Nedzu replied. He turned to All Might, who was staring openly at the screen in a mix of dreadful realization and determination. "All Might, you've already shared your theory with me, but would you mind if I told the others?"
In the midst of the confused murmurs of his fellow colleagues, All Might nodded without ever looking away from the screen.
Nedzu nodded. "Ok then." The small man returned his focus to the group gathered before him. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we will have to dismiss the students early today. Seeing that we will be spending every minute trying to locate and rescue two missing Yuuei students: Bakugou Katsuki, and possibly Midoriya Izuku as well."
Kuroda breathed a curse, openly staring at the large TV screen behind the window of the shop he had been passing by. "Villains really don't know when to make things freaking convenient." He muttered, whipping out his phone and sending a text.
Kuroda: Kei, get the kiddos up and gathered. We're moving a little ahead of schedule.
Kei: I've already sent a few vehicles to pick them up.
Kuroda: What about you??
A black car pulled up from the curb, popping a door open to reveal his brother sitting in a touch of smug glory. "Hop in, little brother." Kei stated seriously. "We've got a bit of hell to raise."
Kuroda couldn't help the vindictive grin that stretched across his face as he shut the door behind him. "Way ahead of you, Kei."
"You tricked them." Kurogiri stated, watching the fight from one of the numerous screens while standing next to Shiragaki. "If Bakugou wins, he leaves with Mirodiya's dead body. If Midoriya wins, he has the other boy's death on his conscience."
"Either way, we win." Shiragaki muttered, fingers twitching to touch something as he watched the fight with maniac glint in his eyes. "The fox will either die or become easy to mold in our image. Both situations would be an acceptable endgame."
Kurogiri didn't reply, opting to watch the screens as Midoriya dodged yet another explosion from Bakugou. "He doesn't have the strength to kill his childhood friend." He observed, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Meanwhile Bakugou is going at him with lethal force in almost every attack. It won't be long until Kuroko makes a mistake."
There was a blur of black as Kuroko leapt out of the way of another lunge by Bakugou. The resulting explosion sending him flying a good distance away, only able to stop by hitting the arena wall with a loud clang. Groaning, Kuroko stood, shaking his head as the blond student rushed him again.
"You realise you're playing into their hand, right?" He asked, dodging yet another blow from the enraged teen. If the fight wasn't a death match, it would've reminded Kuroko of an El Matador facing off against a bull. Except the 'bull' in this scenario was blond, explosive, and about ten times angrier.
Bakugou let out a howl of rage as the target of his ire escaped yet again. "Shut up, you fucking hypocrite." He snarled, "You parade around Japan like you own the place, claiming to be a vigilante, but you're just part of the league!"
Ok. Now Kuroko was just plain confused. "I'm sorry, what?!" He asked, "What are you talking about? I'm not part of the League!"
"Bullshit!" Bakugou screeched, tearing a flimsily piece of metal off of the wall. An explosion from the blond's hand shot the metal at Kuroko with eye blurring speed.
The vigilante let out a surprised cry as he just barely managed to dodge the projectile. The metal skimmed the armour lining his sides, cloth tearing as the metal plating was exposed. "I'm not part of the league!" He yelled again, warily eyeing the other teen for any other surprise attacks. "Where in the world would you get that idea?"
If it was possible, Bakugou got even angrier. "I don't need to fucking explain myself to some shit stain that can't even muster up the balls to hit me!" He yelled right back.
Kuroko let out a hiss of annoyance, "You want me to hit you? Fine." He said, holding his hands out for the cameras to see. "What are you waiting for?" He demanded.
Oh god what am I doing. Do I have a death wish?
Bakugou grinned maliciously, skin stretching to expose his canines. "Hope you're ready to die, fucker!"
You'll be fine, just remember what you wrote about him in your notebooks! He always goes in first with a righ-
Bakugou rushed him, and at that point everything became a blur of instinct, reflex, and sheer terror of the blond. Almost too fast for the eye to see, Kuroko reached his arms out to latch onto the other teen's incoming arm. With a yell, he flipped the blond over. He tried not to cringe in sympathy when Bakugou's back hit the floor with harsh impact. Moving quickly, Kuroko straddled the teen, firmly holding down the blond's hands with his body weight.
"It seems that we're not quite on the same page, mind clearing some stuff up?" He asked conversationally, deliberately ignoring the waves of fury radiating off of Bakugou.
"Great. Let's start with this: why do you think I'm with the League?"
"Your damn boss, Shira-whatever made me a deal when you fuckers kidnapped me." Bakugou spat at him, straining and struggling with all of his strength. It was a good thing for Kuroko that his childhood friend had never bothered to learn grappling. "I fight one of his cronies. If I win, me and a useless fucker I know go free. The whole dying if I lose is new, but it doesn't matter because I'm not dying here! Got it?!"
"Crystal." Kuroko stated dryly. Those bastards. Playing dirty, huh? Well, that was to be expected from a league filled with villains of all people. One thing threw him off though. Did Bakugou really care enough about him to fight a villain to the death? Apparently. That alone was mind boggling to him.
Focus, dammit, more urgent things to do here. Like somehow explaining things to Bakugou and preferably /not/ getting blown to pieces in the process. Kuroko's eyes flicked to the ceiling. Solid concrete, several support beams around the area, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume they were underground. If Bakugou released a big enough explosion, it just might tell everyone where they are. Good thing he knew exactly how to get said explosion. He'd always been good at riling Katsuki up without trying, let's see what happens when he actually does.
He leaned in close, nearly nose to nose with Bakugou. Taking a breath, he steeled himself. "It looks like they tricked us both, Kaachan."
The reaction wasn't immediate, the blond taking a second to actually process what he had said. When it finally clicked in his head? Oh boy. There was an inhuman scream, and Kuroko's world erupted in light and sound.
The heroes' search wasn't producing any results. No civilians had reported any overly suspicious activity in any of the districts, they didn't even have a general area to look in. For all they knew, the two they were looking for were in another country for crying out loud. So when intense tremors came from under the twelfth district at the same time the live feed of the death match cut off, they flocked like moths to a bonfire.
All Might worried the inside of his lip, tapping his foot on the car's floor impatiently as the scenery blurred past them. "If I used One for All, I would already be there." He muttered, mostly to himself rather than the principal.
"True, but we need you at your absolute best, All Might. There's no telling if a certain villain has his hands in this." Nedzu reasoned, swinging his almost comically short legs. "You already used about two hours of your limit today, we don't know how long this fight is going to last, or who it'll be with."
Doesn't mean I have to like it. All Might thought to himself. Both of them jostled slightly when the car came to a stop. "Is this where the tremors were reported?" He asked, peering through the window. It was barren, several abandoned construction sites and foreclosed buildings. All Might hadn't become number one by sheer luck though, he could see the benefits of a villain making a base in this type of area. "Not many people would come to this area, ideal for someone who doesn't want to be seen." Just as he said that two cars, not any model that Yuuei used, pulled in. He hated when the world proved him wrong.
The first car opened it's doors, two men stepping out and onto the concrete. Wait a minute, he knew one of those men. The lack of a left arm gave it away. "Nagaki Kuroda." He stated, puffing up into his muscled form and stepping out of the car. He held the door open for Principal Nedzu as the small man hopped out.
"Hello!" The cheerful little man called. It was only from years of knowing the man that All Might could see the way Nedzu's tail twitched ever so slightly, or how fur was a little more bristled than normal. The man beside him was ready to fight these men; and for both the sake of time and energy All Might sincerely hoped that it wouldn't come to that.
The second man, whose face was noticeably similar to Nagaki's, took a step forward. "You seem to have caught us at a bad time. We were just on our way to," He clicked his tongue, "how to put this? 'Bust a few heads' as my brother would say." The man nodded his head to Nagaki. He had a brother? Well, it's not like All Might should have been very surprised, considering he hadn't bothered to read the newly crippled man's file.
Nagaki Kuroda scowled, shooting a glare to his brother. "I'd go more for 'raising some hell' instead of busting some heads." He drawled, scowl settling into a vindictive smirk. "A headache, now that's temporary. Causing a bit of havoc, that's what leaves an impression."
"Why are you here?" All Might asked, watching Prinicpal Nedzu from the corner of his eye for any reaction. Nothing, besides a few twitches of the tail.
The two men looked at one another. "They're gonna find out anyways." Kuroda said, snorting when his brother gave a reluctant nod. The scarred man looked back to the two heroes. "We're here to save my apprentice." He smiled, "Nice to see you again, All Might."
Looks like All Might was in for all sorts of surprises today. "You're Kuroko, the original one." He stated. "I guess that means that young Midoriya is your student?"
Kuroda stiffened, his eyes hardening. "He's a good kid, I was the one that got him into this." He defended vehemently. "Now are you going to help us get him back, or are you gonna arrest me and waste time?"
Principal Nedzu spoke up. "Us?"
At that, Kuroda had the decency to look a little abashed. With a pop of a door, five Yuuei students, three of them in All Might's own class, stepped out. "I seem to have a bad habit of bringing teenagers to a fistfight." He said, rubbing the back of his head with a hand. "Hey, All Might, how do you feel about breaking down a wall?"
Okay, ow. That definitely wasn't a good choice for his health. He didn't seem to making many of those recently. Kuroko shook his head as he sat up. He'd been thrown a good thirty feet away from Katsuki, who was swearing up a storm in front of him. He could faintly make out what the blond was screaming past the sudden, agonizing pain from his arm. He looked down, casually observing the way his forearm was bent at an unnatural angle. Oh. That explained a lot. Bakugou has stomped closer, frothing at the mouth before he spotted Izuku's broken arm.
"You...utter fucknut!" The blond growled, dropping down to a knee to grab Kuroko by the shoulders. "You're telling me that someone as useless as you could be Kuroko? I should break your other arm, asshole."
"Please save it until we get out of here, Kaachan." Izuku managed to say, gritting his teeth as he stood. "You can break as many bones as you want after that." Preferably in the vicinity of a hospital. Damn, Izuku really needed some painkillers. That, or medical attention, preferably both. Most likely both.
Katsuki grumbled, unhappily holding a hand out for Izuku to take with his unbroken arm. "Whatever, dumbass. Let's get out of here."
"Neither of you are leaving here." A voice cut in, absolutely dripping in venom. Shiragaki stood ten feet away from them, Kurogiri next to him. "All that will be left is dust, and the whole world will see." He tilted his head to look past the two teens. "Noumu."
A strangled scream made it past Izuku's lips as a giant hand grabbed his broken arm from behind and forced him to the ground. His vision blurred as pained tears openly fell from his eyes. He gasped as he felt his broken bone shift, grinding in an agonizing manner. Katsuki was quickly picked up and pulled away from him, the blond fighting every step the creature took away from Izuku.
They had moved one of the cameras, one that hadn't gotten damaged by the explosion, in front of him; but he couldn't really make sense of his surroundings outside of the pain exploding from his arm. Good God, Izuku could barely see a foot ahead of him at that moment, he was in so much agony.
"Let him go." Shiragaki ordered blankly, watching through the gaps of the hand on his face as Izuku collapsed motionlessly to the floor. He walked towards the prone form of the vigilante. "How will they all feel, when they see you disintegrate before their eyes?" The villain wondered to himself, kicking Izuku so the teen would roll over onto his back. "I think I'll kill you first, then take that helmet off. Let society get a good, long look at the vigilante that thought he could be a hero." With that, Shirakagi was on him, gaunt hands latching onto the reinforced cloth that covered his neck. "I wonder, what will it feel like to struggle for breath when your trachea is dust?"
A thin crackling started to fill the air, like someone setting foot on a thin sheet of ice. Izuku could feel flecks of his armour falling off at an alarming rate. He reached up feebly with his arm, clawing at Shiragaki's arm but with no success. He was tired, he was hurt, he was scared. He didn't want to die, yet as the seconds trickled by his chances of him making it got smaller and smaller. He could see the way Shiragaki's cracked lips pulled into an insane grin, blood beading where his the skin was pulled a little too tight.
He wasn't quite sure what happened next. The villain was on him, that much he knew, then suddenly he wasn't. There was a lot of dust though, and for a second he thought he had died, but then his hearing kicked in and he could start making sense of just what had happened. The wall had caved in. No, more like someone had burst through it. Turned out someone did, if the muscled form of All Might standing in the middle of the debris was any indication.
He wasn't having panic induced hallucinations, was he? It felt like it.
It was havoc after that, the Noumus that weren't occupied with the blond living stick of dynamite rushed the hero. Izuku struggled to rise, but the adrenaline was gone. His limbs were trembling too badly for them to be any use. Which was unfortunate, because Shiragaki was back, and much angrier than before. He kicked Izuku again, screeching, "You!" He picked the teen up in a surprising demonstration of strength. "Every single plan has gone wrong since you showed up!" He shook the prone teen in his grip harshly. "You're nothing but a cheater! Cheater! Cheater! Cheater!" He shook harder with each below of the word.
Izuku closed his eyes, hoping to ignore the way his left arm flopped uselessly about. That was how he missed just what made Shiragaki let him go. All he knew was that the persistent shaking has stopped, and that someone had grabbed him before he could hit the floor. He let out a weak whimper as pressure was put on his arm.
"Shit." A familiar, hoarse voice cussed above him. "Sorry, kid. Cavalry came in a little late, yeah? Fuck, you're bleeding." A careful, single hand gently prodded around his neck. "We gotta get the helmet off, okay Izuku?" There was a count to three and his helmet was off.
Izuku blinked, trying to comprehend just who was holding him. "Kuroda?" He asked, daring to hope.
Scarred skin pulled into a bright, relieved grin. "Got it in one, kid."
Izuku's eyesight started to blur, "Kuroda..." His voice wobbled as tears started to fall. The silent crainy turned to outright sobs when his mentor pulled him into an embrace, wrapping his body around Izuku's like it'd protect him from the world. "Kuroda..."
"I know, kid." The man soothed, rocking slowly and letting himself shed a few tears of his own. "I am so, so sorry for not coming sooner. Kei wanted to be 'safe' and apparently coming in guns a'blazing wasn't within that criteria." The man shot a look to his brother, who had a foot firmly planted on Shiragaki's back. Kuroda let himself indulge in the vindictive pleasure that he felt when he saw Shiragaki's arms bending at unnatural angles. Served the villain right, if you asked him. "Okay, we gotta get you up, Izuku. Can you stand?"
"I-I don't know." Izuku stammered, eyes steadily leaking tears. "I tried to move when he was on me but-" He devolved into a panic as he tried to talk through his sentence.
"You've been through enough, my boy." Another voice said. Izuku's head craned up to look at the form of All Might looming over him. "Let's get you to a hospital, young Midoriya."
Izuku didn't reply right away, simply staring at the number one hero in shock. He then remembered his helmet wasn't on and began to struggle in Kuroda's grip. "Kuroda, my helmet isn't on." He stated somewhat frantically. "All Might just saw me without my helmet on."
"It's ok, kid." Kuroda answered, slowly coaxing the teen to stand up. "We struck an agreement before we came in here. Kei's gonna sort out the legalities while you're getting treated. Leave it to us, okay? You've done your part, let us do ours."
"Oh." Izuku said simply, feeling the fainting spell coming on. "If it's ok with you, I may pass out now." With no further warning, Izuku slumped in Kuroda's grip. This time, however, he wasn't scared. The opposite actually, he couldn't have been safer.