A/N: This chapter gave me a lot of trouble. There's a lot to be explained, and not enough space to do it in. But... I guess that's what the next chapter is for? Heh. I rewrote this three times/wrote three different beginnings, and this is ultimately what I decided on. I'm not quite 100% sure about it, but am at least happy with what has happened and hopefully will be able to squeeze the previously-written scenes into the next chapters. You guys might notice some holes in this chapter, and if you do... I'd be really excited to hear about them because they're probably relevant and your deductive skills are then very good. ;)
I have also been realizing a lot over the past month why exactly real books need to undergo so much revision. Stephen King I think said something like "Revision is where you make it look like you knew what you were doing all along", and I cannot agree more. I'm actually looking for a beta now, if anybody's interested, especially for going back and fixing more larger-scale things and also upcoming chapters. I'd really appreciate it if anybody wants to help out with that.
Also! Sorry about the longest-ever delay. Had to wrap up three projects in three weeks, then two weeks, then 1 week, then 1 day, then -2 days, then in -1 week... So it was quite busy. I hope that regardless, you guys enjoy and remember what's going on, haha. :)
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Guest reponses:
Knee: No worries. I was feeling some of that lack of energy review myself. Thanks for typing up a review on this in any case! And you shall see shortly, you shall see...
Once more a gues: Thanks for noticing that. Yeah, HxH doesn't have so many fight scenes, it's more about the backing stories and the characters, especially the old version I think. Your comment here was reassuring in that sense, and also made me realize again how eclectic and interesting different styles of fantasy can be!
Guest: Haha, I'm glad you like their friendship. Yeah, Bakugo is a little more sensible here, largely due to being put in the role of being an older figure who is suddenly responsible for this 11-year-old kid - though of course, he does show it quite strangely continuously. I'm glad you're liking it. I don't want to pretend that Bakugo is better than he is, but I don't think he's quite the degenerate that other people claim he is either (even if he really is that in the beginning). He's just a person.
killuas mom: Aww, thank you. I really appreciate it. Now has been my longest delay, so that ruined some of my upload count/time ratio, haha, but I guess in the end it doesn't matter. I hope you keep enjoying the story!
Jaida M: Thank you. I'm really honored that this story is binge-readable. As to what happens next - you're just about to find out!
Guest:
I won't lie, I thought about your comment a lot here. It made me realllly want to stop work and write this damn thing instead but I knew it would be a bad decision, alas. I'm glad that this story has been helping with some of that, but also - since you've given me the opportunity, I'm about to recommend to you a bunch of awesome books to also pass the time/learn cool things while this situation is going on. It'd be cool if you check them out.
To start off with, Robin Hobb is a master writer. I was relistening to some of her audio books and the way she captures images and situations and character's thoughts is just wonderful. The start to her first book of the main series, Assassin's Apprentice (Farseer trilogy), might seem a bit slow, maybe at first, but to me the entire series the entire series is glorious. Other favorite author is Brandon Sanderson... who's Stormlight Archive and all other books are frankly awesome. Recently I also read the Licanius Trilogy, which got crazy but awesome, and caught my like a web in the storm. I learned a lot from that series. A lot of interesting themes about fate, choice, and friendship, which caught on a lot of doubts and thoughts I had already been having. I don't know what sort of things interest you in writing/reading, but hopefully you might find yourself checking out or enjoying one of these books. :)
Chapter Twenty
"Ne, Bakugo? Why are you so angry all the time?"
The brat wasn't even looking at him as he asked him, his chin and mask propped onto one hand, his fingers curled into his palm the way they did when he was being particularly snotty. His eyes were trained on the distance, the copse of trees that stood in the little park two blocks away from their apartment, the small people chattering and walking their dogs below.
"I'm not fucking angry," Katsuki had snorted then. "Mom just told me to bring you back in. Getting dark out, and she gets nervous when the front door's open."
Killua turned to look at him, his head lifting from its comfortable seat. His eyes were dull, dark, far-off. The blue in them were far overwhelmed by the expansion of the dark iris.
Katsuki felt a shiver pass over him, but he stood his ground. "Come on, get back in, you dumb shit..."
.
The memory passed through him, swirled, atumult, plopping into his mind and leaving like a thousand other thoughts. Katsuki had just been kidnapped by the League of Villains. Katsuki had lost. He was tied to a chair, eight villains surrounding him, all leering at him with varying expressions of curiosity or seriousness. He felt like he was on exhibition. It prickled at him like needles, irking him, getting under his skin.
They were looking down at him – they were looking at him like he was nothing –
Katsuki was angry. He was angry at himself, for losing. He was angry that these fucking villains for taking him. He was angry that he had let himself be taken without even noticing and that fucking Deku thought he had to save him again.
He let that anger fill him, buoy him. It would be his strength, in this fight. It would let him win.
He would show them that he was not nothing.
Pressing his hands tight against the bonds that held him to the heavy metal chair, he glared up at the leader of the League of Villains.
Shigaraki Tomura.
Katsuki thought the name to himself with a growl, swearing to bring it to the grave.
"So what do you say, Bakugo?" the blue-haired villain said, after another long speech, waving his hands in a casually arrogant gesture. He was looking down on Katsuki. "Will you join us?"
Seeing his recalcitrant expression, hearing his silence, Shagaraki sighed. "Fine. I'll let you think about it." He stood, and waved his hand floppily again. "Dabi, Compress, Magne, keep an eye on him. I'm going to the back."
Katsuki watched him, expression not changing from his passive snarl, not betraying his surprise.
He's… leaving?
It had only been some hours since he had been kidnapped, but Shigaraki and the other seven had seemed intent on speaking to him, converting him to their cause with what they thought were coaxing arguments. As if he couldn't hear the lies behind those sweet words. They spoke of "justice", of "discrimination wronged against them", and "creating a free world". They might as well have been waxing poetry, for all the stupid empty bullshit that filled those words. No fucking connection to reality.
They were thugs who wanted an excuse to hussle whoever they wanted. No damn more than that. Katsuki, however, had kept his trap shut, said nothing as they preached and preached. He was biding his time.
– or at least that was what he was telling himself, as he had tugged at his bonds for hours and found them tight and unrelenting. Subtle explosions had no effect on tearing away the bondage. The chair he was strapped to was too heavy and bolted to the floor, so he couldn't flip it over to escape or use it as a weapon.
No, Katsuki thought, growling, a flutter of panic again rising in him. He pushed it down mercilessly; he was not that weak. It's not a shitting excuse to pansy out and do nothing.
There would be some opportunity. Some opportunity to fight, and escape. He would just have to wait, and keep looking for it. If not, then the pro heroes would come. They would be looking for him.
So he watched as Shigaraki left, biding his time, the villain weaving through the many other villains that occupied the bar, slipping through a back door. Bakugo's eyes narrowed. A storage room? Torture equipment? Training equipment? What was back there? He tried to figure out if it would be anything useful.
"Yo."
A sharp leap in his chest, and Katsuki's eyes snapped back to the other villains, resting on the fire villain. Scar Face. He wasn't speaking to Katsuki, but another figure, in the back, wearing a black and red body suit. Twice – Scar Face had said his name once before.
"I don't feel like watching this guy," Scar Face said, pointing his thumb at Katsuki, gaze only lazily inclining a fraction towards Katsuki. "How about you take over for me?"
"Huuh? Me?" The man pointed at himself. He scowled. "Yeah, right. Why would I? Why don't you?"
"Just do it," Scar Face said boredly. "I want to talk to bossman about our upcoming new recruit. Here, just make a clone of me." He stretched out his hand, and Katsuki watched as Scar Face abruptly split in half, a new clone of himself forming, as the other man grabbed his man. The original then turned, then slipped through the same door that Shigaraki had gone down through.
"Right," Twice cleared his throat, and turned to the new Scar Face clone. "So, 'remember, you're not the real Scar Face, if ya get hit you don't die for real…"
The clone waved him off, watching the room with bleary eyes. "Yeah, yeah, got it." He yawned. "Just 'cause I'm the clone I got the boring job."
Then clone Scar Face sat on one of the bar stools and adopted a bored expression, resting his chin on his palm in what seemed to be too-familiar fashion to Katsuki. He found his lower lip twist into a scowl at seeing it – that kind of familiar look didn't belong on a villain.
"What'd you want to talk about with Shigaraki, anyway?" a large figure, the villain with a magnetic quirk and thick choppy lips asked. Magne. She had misguidedly introduced herself earlier, when he had first arrived.
Scar Face Clone shrugged. "Dunno. Why don't you ask the original?"
"Come on, I'm not gonna believe that you don't know, just because you're a clone…" the large woman said, thick eyebrow raising above her dark rocker-style sunglasses.
The conversation continued, and though Katsuki kept straining to listen, figure out all that he could, he found himself tuning out the conversation as he surveyed the room, once, twice, again, his breathing feeling suddenly thick before his anger and pride and rage pushed it down again.
The next hour was unimaginably dull, made only worse by the fact that Katsuki constantly felt tense and on high alert, twichty at the slightest movement. It was grueling. The eight villains wandered in and out the doors, frequently. The villains assigned to stay in the bar chatted, nothing significant, and occasionally shot him dull, watching stares. Even more occasionally, they tried to draw him into conversation, often regarding the freedom of being a villain and the injustice of heroism yada yada yada, but Katsuki remained angrily silent, relying on his temper to give him strength. However, it was startlingly soon when he began fighting off yawns, feeling his lids grow heavy. Nothing had happened, and though he was still on high alert of course, he couldn't help but start to feel tired, exhaustion dragging down upon him...
He almost cursed when his stomach growled.
"Hey look, the kid's hungry," Magne said. She turned around. "Kurogiri, you got anything back there?"
"Yes, of course," the ever-present warp villain said amiably and evenly.
Katsuki grimaced, and deliberately turned his head away in an early rejection. He heard shuffling, the sound of pots colliding, the stove being turned on. Familiar sounds, and his heart lurched with dread. Soon enough, a delicious aroma filled the bar and it was all Katsuki could do not to vomit.
These villains… he thought, nausea roiling within him, disgust. How dare they try to pretend to live such a normal life?
The thought perked him up angrily, and he no longer felt tired. His inner wall was back; he could stand strong. When they tried to offer him the food, he spat it back into their faces. Alarmingly, none of them seemed to take it too badly, as if it were to be expected.
"Now," Magne said, sternly looking down at him through moon-style shades, "if you don't eat now, you're going to be hungry for the night, ya hear?"
Katsuki didn't bother to dignify that with even an acknowledgement. He squeezed his eyes close, let that anger in him build, stock, give him strength. He would get through this. He'd show these bastards who's who.
I'm not weak.
I am strong. When I get out of these cuffs, they'll be beaten black and blue –
But as the bar went quiet, growing darker, it was hard to keep his resolve. The night was coming on, he knew, by the way the tones of conversation had lowered and settled, and the way tiredness continued dragging at his eyes heavily. Many hours passed, both disconcerting and surreal. He drifted into a haze of mixed awareness and nothingness, dimly aware of his head nodding off, and down, the world turning into darkness, before he jerked it up again, a jolt of fear shooting through him as he again remembered his surroundings, the pressing quiet biting into him, nothing to rebel against or defy other than maddening silence, then the cycle repeating again, and again.
There was a knock on the door, and he jerked full away, an uneasiness spreading through him. He had fallen asleep? Shit, what was wrong with him?
The door creaked open, a front to the bar. No light streamed in with the opening. He couldn't turn his head to see it; he wished he could. He shook his head, and abruptly realized that all eight of the villains had returned to the room.
"So you came," Shigaraki's drawling voice was flat as it called across the room, "Hunter. Giran said you'd be useful, but tell me – why the hell do I want a shit like you in my party, after the stunt you pulled before?"
A pause, then a familiar voice called out, high-pitched and lilting. "Because I'm strong. And I need something from you."
Katsuki's blood froze. All his tiredness washed away from him, his mind going sharp and keen and wild as he tried to figure out what was going on.
That voice…
A sharp shoot of fear ran through him.
What was that brat doing here?
"Hey, hey," Shigaraki said. "I don't know if I like your tone. Need something, huh? What is it?" Then he frowned. "First off, take off your stupid mask. I want to see your face."
There was a sound of cloth rustling, then from where he sat, from the corner of his eye Katsuki saw Shigaraki's eyes widen, a gleam of avarice rising into them.
"I'm Killua," that other voice said, damnably familiar. There was a hollow clicking sound, and Bakugo knew that the brat had just tapped his mask. "And what I want is my freedom, from the heroes."
Shigaraki stared for a long moment, unblinking, then abruptly laughed, his upper back bending over itself, arms widening.
"The boy from another universe," he marveled, in delight. A slow grin spread across his face. "Look, Kurogiri! The boy from another universe wants to join us!" He laughed again, then looked towards Killua, smile dying sharply.
"Alright," he said. "You can join us."
Katsuki felt like a stone, heavy, frozen.
Oi.
Brat. Killua.
What are you doing?
This ain't funny. Why are you here?
"And what I want is my freedom, from the heroes." The words coursed through his mind. He forced himself to think through them, to understand, despite the twitch he felt in his fingers.
He knew that Killua hated the mask, had seen him twitching and tugging at it, as if he were itching to take it off. He knew that the kid also hated his dependency on Ponytail – though the brat had never said it by words, his eyes always burned and his face turned sullen when he took his daily lunch box from Ponytail. The indignation at being so reliant.
More, he knew about the kid's past. Compared to his family, the League was probably like a teaspoon against a bucket of darkness.
Had the brat really turned to villainy?
No. It was a stupid thought. The timing was too perfect. Some hours after his kidnapping, UA's failure had been plastered onto the news – Shigaraki had shown him that eagerly enough. Now, a few hours after that, with the kid's speed and resourcefulness, he wouldn't be surprised if the brat in that time had somehow managed to get in contact with the villains.
It was simple: Killua was here for him.
With that thought, another flash of terror ran through him, sending his hair raising and shoulder blades prickling. It was real terror now, worse than what he had felt before, when he was on his own.
This fucking brat... He shouldn't be here.
He's shitting twelve years old. What did he think he was doing, in a place like this? To go after Katsuki?
He's going to get himself killed.
For a moment, all Katsuki saw was red. A blinding red, that made him thrash out useless against his bonds, before he bit the inside of his check and the sharp sting of pain returned some reason to him.
No, no, no, he still thought, thoughts wild. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening!
Katsuki was supposed to be the one taking care of Killua. If this brat came to rescue him – no – shit –
Something burned in him and he wasn't sure what it was.
Maybe the brat had a plan. Maybe the brat didn't recklessly act and charge forward out of frustration like always. Maybe, maybe the fucking shitty kid had actually –
"So what are you guys doing?" Killua had silently skirted the room, now standing just nearly at the edge of Katsuki's vision, in front of the stools where the other villains sat. Katsuki had to crane his neck to watch the conversation, and he found Killua's eyes on Katsuki with almost a bored disinterest, a dull darkness filling them. "Picking on a UA student? What's your whole agenda?"
He wore a casual, watchful lean that told Katsuki he was anything but disinterested and bored. The bad feeling in him rose again, strong and wrathful and worried. He was too obvious –
"I don't like this," Magne said, watching Killua closely from her seat at the bar. "We're in the middle of an operation. We don't know this kid."
Katsuki watched a curious exchange happen then. If he wasn't familiar with the brat or was currently so hyperfocused on his expressions, he wouldn't have caught it. Killua's gaze turned cooly evaluating, before catching onto Scar Face Clone. Scar Face Clone gave Killua a private, almost knowing smile, and the kid immediately flicked his gaze away.
They knew each other.
How – ?
"I told you," Killua said, turning back to the thickset figure, deliberately. "I'm Killua. From an alternate universe, and all that. Who are you guys?"
"I'm Magne," she replied shortly. "Why are you here?"
Killua, after a pause, tapped his mask again.
What the hell is going on?
"I want to be free of this thing," he said, "and get away from the heroes." He smiled, his eyes never flitting Katsuki's way once. "Giran mentioned you might be able to help me out with that."
Katsuki kicked out, and a loud bang echoed through the room as the back of his foot collided with the metal base of the chair. Not good, not good, his anger had been burned away – there was only panic and confusion in him – his bonds bit at his skin as he made one desperate struggle – before he came at it again with a real visciousness, reminding himself that he was Bakugo Katsuki and he would be number one and he could not lose.
The brat didn't even look his way.
Katsuki's eyes widened, fuming, his nose puffing air in and out like a steam engine. He nearly opened his mouth, said something, but remembered that his anger was only to fuel him, keep him strong, not to make him stupid. He needed… he needed to think. Be smart. Be watchful. Pay attention.
It sent a sour curdle through him, but he relaxed back against the bonds, returned his normal snarl to his face, directed a fierce glare towards everyone in the room, then settled back down. Watching. Waiting. Biding his time.
"Alright," Magnet Villain said to the brat. "Welcome to the club then, kid. You can call me big sis Magne, if you want. Why don't you take a seat with us while Shigaraki does his thing?"
The brat nodded, padding over to where most of the League was assembled on the bar stools around the counter. Carefully, he skirted around the counter, passing Dabi, and set himself next to Toga and one chair from Magne. While doing so, he fully came into Katsuki's field of vision. Their eyes met briefly for a second, his blue matching Katsuki's own angry and confused red, and the brat tugged at his long shirt sleeve twice, almost as if he were adjusting it.
Katsuki knew immediately. It was a signal.
Then, expressionless, the brat sat down, and leaned over to the blond knife villain, whispering loudly.
"So what's this guy doing here?"
The crazy assassin girl gave him a strange, wary look. Katsuki noticed her idly fingering her knife in one hand, almost barked a warning, but she didn't move to strike the brat with it. A moment later, she shrugged, smiled, and said almost beautifically,
"We're trying to get him to join us."
"Huh." The brat matched her shrug and leaned back. "But isn't he a hero student?"
"I think that's the point," she said dubiously. Her eyes trailed to the still Katsuki, and she smiled, getting dreamy-eyed. "Maybe if he's just covered in a little blood he'd fit in…"
Katsuki would have shuddered, but he was too busy deciphering the brat's signal. Two tugs of his shirt sleeve? Did it mean anything?
It struck him suddenly. He recognized that shirt. It was his own, from three years back. His mom had bought him it for a carnival, and now it was a hand-me-down for Killua. If he was wearing it here, rather than a better disguise, and drew attention to it that way, it could only mean…
'I am on your side.'
Idiot, he thought. I already knew that.
But it relaxed some of the doubts he had been having. Katsuki had been right. Killua was here for him.
Again, the current of fear lanced through him and he had to remind himself to hate the villains to keep himself strong.
He would have to watch out for the brat now, too.
.
Katsuki glared up at Shigaraki and didn't say a word. Day two. He had nodded his head off during the night, getting a few winks of sleep, now he was refreshed for battle.
The leader of the League of Villains stared down at him for a moment, then intoned, "So how are you doing?"
Katsuki snarled. "Don't fuck with me," he said, the words escaping him, his patience done. "Quit with the small talk and get to the damn point."
Magne laughed.
"I like him," she said. Then she called out, "Kid, we want you to join us."
"Fuck you," Katsuki snarled immediately, gaze snapped to hers, then Shigaraki, almost determinedly avoiding Killua, who was lingering in the back. "Go die in a hole."
Shigaraki sighed irritatedly, took a step back, then snapped, "Kurogiri. Turn on the TV."
The warp villain nodded, and a moment later, the TV hissed to life.
Like yesterday, it was all news of his kidnapping. Same old, same old. Speculation of UA's proceedings. UA was announcing a press conference for tomorrow. They were hard at work trying to find him. Katsuki stared at it with dull, bored eyes.
"They'll never find you, you know," Shigaraki said, his voice sounding equally bored. "Why don't you just give in? Join the League? Become our newest member. We're the winning side, Bakugo."
Katsuki had already spoken twice now, so the words came too easily.
"Fuck off."
His voice was gruff, and his throat felt dry. Damn it, if he kept spitting out his water and food, he'd die of dehydration before he got out of here.
...Would it be that long?
Inadvertently, his eyes flickered to Killua. While he was relieved the brat hadn't done anything reckless yet, he didn't understand why the brat hadn't done anything yet. He had just been casually slinking around, talking shop with the other villains like he belonged there. He exuded some aura, some gravitas, he had never worn at Katsuki's place, and it had Katsuki constantly at edge.
As if the presence of eight villains weren't already enough.
"Interested in our new recruit?"
To his alarm, Shigaraki had followed his gaze with interest. Katsuki's eyes flitted back to Shigaraki and he saw that the villain's mottled mouth had curved into a smile.
He remained silent, glaring.
"Hey, Hunter," Shigaraki called suddenly from across the room. "Come here."
The white-haired boy raised an eyebrow, then slowly, casually walked over, hands thrown into his pockets.
"Yeah?" the brat asked, eyelids lowered into a bored, slitted expression. "You finally got something for me to do?"
Shigaraki gestured to Katsuki sharply.
"Talk to him," he commanded. "Convince him to join us."
Killua's gaze slowly slid from Shigaraki to Katsuki. Even as their eyes met, this time, the brat's bored expression never faltered.
"Alright."
He paused for a moment, cocked his head to the side, as if thinking. Finally, he met Katsuki's eyes with a degree of seriousness that hadn't been there before.
"Heroes are stupid," he said. "You should join us."
Katsuki froze. Killua relaxed his expression, rocking back on his feet, turning his head to look back at Shigaraki. "Good enough?"
"Hmm. Did it work?"
Shigaraki was staring at him avidly, eyes widened beneath the hand clutching the villain's face, and Katsuki had to jerk his head away from his gaze.
"I don't want to fucking be a villain," Katsuki muttered, teeth jarring against themselves his jaw was clamped together so tight. "I want to be a goddamn hero."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the brat staring at him for a long moment.
Then, the brat shrugged.
"Sorry," he said blandly to Shigaraki. "Looks like I couldn't persuade him."
Then he turned and walked away, going back to his corner to talk with the other villains like he belonged with them. The day repeated, a simulacra of the previous day, a haze of uncertainty, hunger, anger, and sharp hidden fear. Long speeches, coaxing arguments, too-familiar scenes… they dragged on, and on, and on…
.
"Hey, wake up."
Katsuki abruptly jerked away, and realizing how close the voice was – practically at his ear – snapped against the bonds of his chair, eyes wide. His shoulder hit the metal chair with a bang and it sent a stabbing ache reverberating through his shoulder blade.
"It's me," the voice said again, and his eyesight cleared up enough to recognize the brat. Katsuki's expression of shock turned to one of anger, and incredulity, instantly awake, anger and fear combined instantly rising inside him.
"What are you doing," he hissed at the boy. "They're going to catch – "
His voice faltered when he noticed the slumped bodies at the bar counter. Five of them. The purple warp villain wasn't there.
"I poisoned them," Killua said, eyes inscrutable and dark, then reached forward to tug at Katsuki's bonds. He moved with a coiled tension, movements angry and jerking and Katsuki stared at Killua stupidly. "And electrocuted the ones who were still awake."
"Elec –" Katsuki shook his head, eyes still wide. No, he couldn't panic, he was in this situation now, he needed to get them out of this alive. "There's three missing." No, that wasn't right. Think, damn it. "Four," he corrected, " – Scar Face has a clone."
"Kurogiri and Shigaraki left earlier," Killua replied, voice low and tense. "I don't know where Dabi is, but he took a plate of the poisoned food with him. If we're lucky, he's down too. I took care of his clone yesterday."
There was a sharp jerk, and tear, and abruptly Katsuki's hands were freed. He immediately leapt to his feet, then wobbled, vertigo and black spots rushing into his vision. The kid steadied him a moment later, and Katsuki was surprised to not feel a flare of indignation at the act.
"We better get out of here," Katsuki said hoarsely. "Which way?"
Killua shot him a critical look, then said, "Follow me."
He started walking to a door, opposite to the direction. Katsuki, totteringly, followed him, before he managed to get his feet straight under him and the vestiges of indignant energy back into him.
"You know what you're doing?" Katsuki asked, trying to return some gruffness to his voice.
Killua shot him a sideways look, then looked Katsuki up and down.
"More than you," he said, smiling smugly, a glint of unexpected humor in his eyes.
And wasn't that more surreal than anything. Shit. Katsuki tried to focus on the ache in his knees and wrist, smoothing it out so that he could be ready to fight.
They reached the door. Killua cautiously turned the knob, signalling Katsuki to stand off to the side. After a moment of hesitation, biting down his pride as he felt his legs still cramp up and his posture feel unsteady, remembering Killua's too-fast speed and many victories over him, he finally did so. He watched Killua's face carefully, ready to lunge forward and leap and roll, as the younger boy slowly, silently, pushed the door open.
A moment later, the brat's eyes widened with minute surprise, before growing grim. Bakugo grew tense, almost leapt forward with coiled muscles – but instead settled into a combat stance, arms at the ready, legs widening apart. Not yet.
"Leaving so soon?" a taunting voice called from the doorway.
"Dabi," Killua muttered. He took a step back, but lifted a stopping, cautioning hand towards Katsuki. A smug, cocky grin was soon enough plastered on the brat's face, and he rocked backwards into an arrogant posture. "Trying to stop me?"
Katsuki couldn't see half the conversation happening, unable to read for ticks and signs of danger. Growing frustrated, he began slowly circling around, getting out and away from the wall but still out of sight.
"Guess so," Scar Face – or Scar Face Clone? – replied, voice low. "But I'm not too surprised you're betraying us. It is in your nature, isn't it, Killua Zoldyck?"
A fraction of surprise registered in the brat's face, before it smoothed over into a neutral expression. Then his face turned serious.
"Bakugo," he said. "Stay out of the way."
The atmosphere shifted.
Killua's eyes burned, lips drawn down as if by gravity. The casual facade had been thrown away as if it were nothing. His entire body was tense, coiled to strike, his hands hovering above his pockets in half-claws. Then –
A jet of blue flame launched through the doorframe, and Killua had disappeared – gone faster than Katsuki's eyes could follow. He glanced around wildly, saw Killua clinging to the wall, out of reach of the flames.
'Stay out of the way?'
Killua was out of his league in a straight fight, Katsuki knew. Even when Katsuki had been really trying, the brat had been able to, humiliatingly, beat him many times. It had been frustrating, but now –
Angry indignation burned in him. I can't fucking do that.
"Good." Scar Face's voice unexpectedly came from beyond the doorframe. "You survived. Say, why don't we make a deal?"
Katsuki traded a look with the brat, Killua's eyes gleaming in the dark corner of the bar. They weren't going to fall for that. They both remained silent.
If they spoke, Scar Face would pinpoint where they were.
A heavy sigh.
"Look, I'm serious. It was just a warning shot, to make sure you were the real deal." An amused tone crept into his voice at that. "You wouldn't be much good to me if you died from a shot like that, would you?"
Killua again did not respond, but now raised a finger in front of his mouth, signalling Katsuki to be quiet. His eyes were flat, dead serious.
Impossibly quiet, Killua dropped from his position on the wall and moved towards the door. If Katsuki hadn't been watching him the entire time, he would have thought Killua had disappeared, so muted was his presence.
"I'll give you a few free pieces of information, to show good faith," the droll voice came from the door and Killua continued his slow march to the door. "One. I knew you were here for the hero kid."
Killua was at the door, waiting just behind the doorframe.
"Two. You live with the kid. The others were too stupid to have done their research beforehand. I wasn't."
Killua disappeared from sight suddenly, a blur of motion that lunged forward into the door frame –
"Three."
Katsuki's eyes widened and he rushed to the door, explosions ready at hand. He leapt forward, only to find himself tossed backwards, back into the bar, by a smiling Scar Face, who was holding Killua by the wrist, his hand transformed into a claw inches from Scar Face's heart. In the brief flash Katsuki had seen when he was close, Killua's eyes had been wide and his wrist was hissing with smoke.
"You are an assassin." The man said it with a perverse glee, eyes afire, droll and bored tone vanished.
A jerk of motion in front of him, and Killua was summersaulting backwards, until he was standing next to Katsuki again, he posture wary, knees bent. As Katsuki got to his feet quickly again, the younger boy didn't even glance at the hissing wound on his left arm, staring forwards, breathing hard.
Scar Face smiled pleasantly at them from the door.
"I want to go to your world, Killua," Scar Face said. "Once I thought I'd cure this one…" His eyes widened manically, pupils dilating, grin growing taut and wide. "But why do that when I could just leave? When there's already a perfect place where I could do whatever I want?" He paused, cocking his head to the side. "Tell me, Hunter, how do I go there?"
"You're fucking insane," Katsuki spat from the side, unable to help himself.
The brat was staring stiffly forward, breathing hard.
"... Fine," Killua said, after a pause, the words dragging themselves out with a short reluctance. Katsuki's eyes widened incredulously. "You win. What do you want?"
Scar Face smiled, relaxing somewhat, smug and cocky and self-assured that made Katsuki want to punch the living lights out of him if he wasn't already so angry at his friend for giving up and worried at their chances.
"Just the way back." He cocked his head to the side slightly, his eyes sliding to Katsuki, then said, "Oh, and I suppose he should stay here too. For the League."
Killua's eyes briefly flickered to Katsuki.
"No," he said. "I can give you info, but Bakugo's coming with me."
"Just info?" The man smiled sardonically, then shook his head. He opened his right hand, a blue flame flickering in it. "That's not enough. Come on, I don't have to let you go."
Killua glanced at Katsuki again, and Katsuki, to the brat's shock, stepped forward and stood in front of him warningly.
"Go," Katsuki said flatly, meeting eyes with Scar Face. "I'm their objective. I'll be fine."
Scar Face lifted two eyebrows, then looked behind Katsuki to the brat.
"Idiot," Killua muttered sharply. "He doesn't care."
"But Shigaraki does," Katsuki continued on doggedly, stubbornly. He cracked his knuckles together with a ferocious, wild grin as he stared forward intently at Scar Face, who didn't look at all perturbed by this turn of events. "C'mon, brat. Let me take care of this."
"No." The twelve-year-old kid stepped out from behind him and, fists clenched, breathed in and out tightly. "New deal. I tell you what poison I used on the League, and you let us go."
Scar Face's eyebrows lifted again, and he scanned his eyes almost drolly over the collapsed League, sitting at the bar stools.
"How bad?" he asked, casually.
"Lethal," Killua said, baring his teeth into a humorless smile. "Unless you get the antidote to them quickly."
Scar Face stared at the twelve year old boy for a long moment, and Katsuki had to fight to not do the same.
"I don't really care about them," Scar Face admitted after a pause. "But it would be inconvenient. Throw in your info about getting to your world, and we have a deal."
"Alright," Killua agreed, eyes narrowed. "How do I know you'll keep your end of the deal?"
Scar Face shrugged, then lifted his hands somewhat, backing out of the doorway. He left some room for them to go through, but not too much. "See for yourself."
Killua cautiously advanced forward, and after a moment, Katsuki did too, trying to hover just in front of the kid. They both watched Scar Face as they side shuffled out the door, the entire time keeping their bodies facing him.
"Okay, stop there."
Killua still took a step back, dragging Katsuki with him. Then the brat stopped and nodded, Katsuki feeling the motion by the tug on his arm.
"Okay," Killua's voice echoed in the large, dusty warehouse the bar was seated in. He lifted one finger. "One. I gave Magne, Toga, Spinner, and Compress hemlock. The rest were electrocuted with a stun gun. If they don't have any heart problems… they should be fine." Killua continued, warily, "We're going to walk to the entrance. I have a piece of paper. I will write my lead on it and leave it at the entrance. After that, we will leave. You will not follow."
There was a gleam in Scar Face's eyes, but he shrugged, agreeing to the terms. Killua backed them up further, and Katsuki let him, knowing that Killua knew better than he where the entrance was.
Finally, they had pressed themselves against a wall. Killua reached back, clicked a latch, and opened it. Immediately, a gust of fresh air hit Katsuki, and it was a relief like he had never felt before. Freedom.
Killua passed him a card and a pen, from his pocket, and muttered, voice pitched so that it wouldn't carry, "Write 'Hikone' on this, and 'Hakira Kyoshi'. Hurry."
Katsuki took them hesitantly, then, acquiescing defeat – he knew it was better that Killua keep an eye on the villain than him, even though he didn't want to admit it – he hurriedly scribbled the names on the card. Questions would come later.
"Set it on the ground," Killua said, voice still quiet, and Katsuki did, legs tense like springs, ready to jump up at any moment.
Throughout this, Scar Face watched them with an almost bemused expression. Katsuki didn't have time to study it, however, because a yank on his arm pulled him through the open door and into the cold night air before he could even blink. Then suddenly, he was flying, wind rushing passed him and at him at incredible speeds. It felt like he had been hit by a wall, and when he realized what had happened –
His eyes flared with indignation and half-panic.
"Put me down, brat," he hissed to Killua. "I can freaking walk myself –"
"No time," Killua said back, voice almost snatched away from the rushing wind. Katsuki realized suddenly how high they were, somehow already on the rooftop, moving at incredible speeds he couldn't manage even with his explosions. Every time Killua landed, rooftops cracked, and every time he leaped, it was with a powerful bound that sent them hundreds of meters forward at a time.
Katsuki suddenly felt very useless.
He was literally being princess carried by a twelve year old, like a little girl. He had been kidnapped – hadn't been strong enough to stop himself from being fucking kidnapped – and then he had to be rescued by the brat he was supposed to be in charge of. And he had done nothing, except stand around like a wall plant while this fucking twelve year old fought for him.
Shit.
Now that the anger was gone, no target to vent it too, it all hit. There was no protective buffer there anymore, no urgency to remain alert, awake, on guard, and it all rushed in.
Katsuki had been kidnapped. By villains. He had been starved, then forced to eat their food, tied to a goddamn chair for almost two days. He could barely feel his hands. He had to be rescued by a kid. He was so weak. So goddamned weak.
Beaten even by Deku. That fucking snake, always beating him, always looking better than him. If Katsuki couldn't even be better than worthless Deku, then what was he?
It left him at a loss.
I am Bakugo Katsuki and I'm going to be the goddamned number one hero and win.
There, flying over Tokyo, in the arms of a twelve year old, the words had never felt more hollow.
Time vanished away until the next moment when the rushing wind stopped, and Killua set them in a small backalley. A lamp post just lit the silhouette of his face.
"Bakugo, are you o…"
The brat's voice trailed off in surprised silence.
"What?" Katsuki asked angrily, feeling a sting in his eyes, a frustrated welling of broken pride that he couldn't stop. "Don't fucking look at me like that."
The brat immediately averted his gaze.
"Sorry," he said quietly.
His anger lit like a match at the word, finding a new target.
"What are you fucking sorry for?" Katsuki snapped. "Huuh? For risking your shitty life to rescue me? For almost getting yourself killed? Well, you should be f'ing sorry, you shitting… reckless brat. I would have been fine."
It really burned. Drove his vision red, hot, chest flaming.
The brat stared at him with an inscrutable expression.
"Get the fuck away," Katsuki snarled. There were more words, more words bubbling to the tip of Katsuki's tongue, but he was able to hold himself from saying them - had no reason to say them - they weren't true. Instead, he picked himself up from the ground, striding to the front of the alleyway, looked towards the unknown main street it connected to, and said lowly, "So. How do we get back home?"
Killua was quiet as he came up to him, standing just a foot behind him and to the left, but Katsuki could sense his presence now.
"We should wait," the brat said, voice also low. Then, more sardonically, he continued, "unless you want to get caught again."
Katsuki's gaze snapped to the brat. He bared his teeth.
"I'm not stupid," he said, again feeling that terrible blow to his pride, like he himself had been brought down low, forced to keel. "Unlike you, bratty fish eyes."
The brat's eyes widened in surprise, then he backed a step.
Then he unexpectedly began to snicker, hands covering his plastic mask in a futile effort to disguise the sound.
Katsuki felt like he had missed something. His eyes narrowed.
"What?" he demanded. "Somethin' funny?"
The brat shook his head, but his eyes were curled into crescents of mirth. In his confusion, Katsuki felt the curling sensation in his chest relax.
"N-nothing," he coughed, straightening himself. "You're just always such a character, Bakugo."
Katsuki felt himself grumbling, then smiling, though he tried to keep it tamped down, his face still angry and smiling. Yet, the laughter felt like such a relief, somehow, after that time with the League. "Yeah, yeah, stupid brat. Laugh it up." Then Katsuki jerked his thumb to himself, in an arrogant gesture. "And that's the main character to you, got it? The main character, not just some extra."
The brat smirked, then said, "Got it, extra."
Katsuki gaped for a moment, then fumed.
"Shitting brat," he said. He stomped forward, abruptly forgetting their surroundings, the night air, the looming sense of danger, in this familiar ritual. He grabbed for the brat's hands, explosions popping from his own. "Get here - I'm gonna make you pay up - "
But the brat laughed and dodged, launching him to the side of the wall, sticking somehow like some stupid spider, his fingers pressed tightly against a window railing, too high for Katsuki to reach by foot. He fumed again, thinking to launch himself up with explosions to show him who was boss.
The brat's laughter abruptly dropped then, however, and Katsuki found himself becoming more serious too, the chill of the night and their situation again biting into him.
"We should keep moving," Killua said, meeting his eyes, dropping back to street level. "We made too much noise. We're somewhere near Toshima district, we should start rounding back."
"That far?" Katsuki grumbled, before a thought occurred to him and he glanced at Killua sharply. They began slowly walking out of the alleyway, postures calm but hurried, like any passerby going around at night with late business. "You knew where the League was located. You weren't just randomly escaping."
Killua shrugged.
"I had a contact who took me there," the brat said. "Once we got there, it was easy enough to figure out where we were."
Katsuki hesitated.
Then, "Are you alright?"
He said the words lowly, quietly, as if he almost hoped the kid hadn't heard.
But he had, of course. Killua's eyes met his even as they walked, and he could see the calm, unperturbed smile the young boy's face held.
"Yeah," the brat said, even as Katsuki's eyes flicked to the still-stinging burn on his wrist, which he quickly hid by placing his hands into his pockets in his customary manner.
It took some time, and some circling, but at last, Katsuki began seeing familiar sites around him. The dog park, just blocks ahead from their apartment, shaded by some trees, first came into view. Then, the road he always took to the train station, just to their right. His old school, a street down.
Finally, their apartment came to view, and it was with eagerness that Katsuki ran up the stairs, fumbled with his keys, and tore open the door, launching him into the apartment. Killua was just moments behind him.
Immediately, he collapsed into the sofa, feeling the sweet homecoming, familiar scents, familiar feeling, familiar people. Mom and Dad's worried faces came a moment later, lighting the feeling in his chest up further, this utter wonderful temporary sense of normalcy, and he waved off Mom and Dad's urgent questions, who had been worriedly staring at the TV when he had come in. Explanations could come later. He saw them calling the police now, talking to Killua, making urgent calls in urgent tones, but he couldn't find himself caring at the moment.
An exuberance, a relief, a happiness filled him.
They had escaped.
They were safe.
Safe, and he was surprised to find that his sense of relief wasn't just for himself, but mostly for the cocky white-haired brat who had come after him.
The next few hours were abuzz, but they passed in a daze. Police came in and went, taking statements. Naomasa had been there. Katsuki didn't say anything, other than to say that he was alright, and let the brat do the talking, the false explanations. The villains had been careless, the brat had explained, and he had been able to take them out with sleeping gas, and grab Katsuki when they were asleep. His burn was from the fire villain, Dabi, just before he had been knocked out. Otherwise, they were uninjured.
Finally, he was allowed off to bed, and the moment his head hit the pillow, found his thoughts already aswirl, jagged, plummeting him into the sweet darkness. He waited before giving in, until he heard that familiar plod, a crunch as the younger boy, his charge, fell into his own bedroll just a few feet away.
Then Katsuki was fast asleep, finally, asleep deeper than where dreams could reach.
.
Gon knocked on the door, swallowing. The easy daylight of morning played on his skin, warming and calm, but it didn't ease his jitters. When there was no response, he pulled out a paper from the pocket, matching the numbers written on it to the ones on the door. It was the right place. Wasn't it?
He tried again, and after another minute of waiting, the door swung open slowly, almost warily.
Gon's heart leapt, his fingers picking on an excited tremor, as his eyes met his best friend's face for the first time in a month.
"Killua!"
Killua's eyes widened, a shock of blue, as for a long moment he stared dumbly at Gon. He then stepped out of the door, into the balcony, letting the door mutely shut behind him with a soft click.
"Gon…" he said, almost disbelieving. "Gon, it's really you?"
Gon saw his friend's eyes channel Gyo, looking at Gon piercingly, analytically, warily. Then a moment later his aura and expression settled back into slack surprise, growing relaxed, then.
Then his friend did something unexpected. Something Killua had never done before.
He laughed, leapt forward, and pulled Gon into a hug.
Gon immediately returned the hug, wrapping his own arms around his friend. It felt good, filling him with a happy, light feeling. When a friend hugged you, someone important to you, there was nothing as good as that.
And he had been looking for Killua for a month.
They drew back, met each other's gaze, and laughed again, in mingled disbelief, surprise, and joy. Gon could scarcely believe that Killua had been gone for so long, he was so real and vivid before him, and it was like his worries and hard thoughts were soothed away for this peaceful moment.
"How did you get here?" Killua laughed incredulously. "How did you find this place?"
Gon smiled.
"I got the address from a rat!" he said. It had been an unexpected surprise! "He told me he was the principal of UA."
Killua laughed again, smiling, and said, "So Nezu helped out, huh?" He shook his head, and the laughter in the air seemed to die down a little. "But how did you come here? Did Kyoshi bring you here too?"
Gon frowned. He didn't want this good time to be interrupted, and he didn't want to worry Killua.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Someone else took me. I'll tell you about it later." He looked curiously at the door. "Who are you staying with?"
Killua blinked, seemed to understand, then opened the door behind him, gesturing Gon in with an easy-to-return smile.
"Why don't you come in and see?"