"So she just ran out of there?" Eijiro said, disbelief evident in his voice. "She didn't even use you for a free meal?"

"Ha ha, asshole," Katsuki said on the other end of the line, no humor in that laugh, "it was so weird. One minute we're sitting there, I'm telling her about my fuckin' parents and the next she's running out like the place is on fire. I don't think she actually wanted to leave."

"Did she tell you why?"

"That's the thing," Bakugo started, leaning on a counter, "she said something about her brother needing her, but earlier she said she didn't have a brother."

"I can explain that, and you're gonna feel real dumb for thinking it's something weird happening," Eijiro said, a laugh at the end of his voice, "you know how she's all about her family right?"

"She mentioned it during breakfast."

"She's got this cousin she grew up with, sometimes she'll call him her brother. They're practically inseparable. And if anything comes up with him—or really any one of her family members—then she's gonna jump into action."

"And 'Daddy'?"

"Grandfather. She and Denki spent a lot of time with him when she was a teenager. He's the one who took her to get her first tattoo." That...did explain a lot, actually. And although Katsuki would have preferred to hear it from her, he was almost satisfied. Almost. He looked at the purse sitting on his kitchen table, a small brown bag—unassuming. "She's real protective of them. Anyone gets too close and she's snarling like one of those tiny ass dogs with fuckin' monster teeth."

"She left her purse," Katsuki said, grabbing the offending accessory. "I kinda wanna look through it."

"You know what Mama would say," Eijiro reminded, and Katsuki could picture him—his eyes closed and finger wagging, "It's not a good idea."

"I think she's hiding something. She's so fuckin' weird, it's like she's keeping something from me."

"She just met you. You guys went on a half date and she's expecting to take her pants off and let you mark up her body. She's probably keeping a lot from you." Sometimes—not often—but sometimes, Eijiro made too much sense. Katsuki sighed and tossed the purse behind him onto the couch, which clattered on the floor not too far behind him. "Besides, if she's hiding something big, is this how you wanna find out?"

"I hate it when you're right."

"Then maybe it's a great thing I'm usually really wrong," he laughed. "But I gotta get going. Mama and I are gonna buy a new, well, everything."

"Later man."

With that, he hung up the phone and released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He went into the living room, where he found her purse, knocked over, its contents spilled across the floor. "Shit," he said to himself, picking up the little brown bag and setting it on the couch. He looked on the floor and found a tube of lipstick and a round, plastic bowl—a compact, he remembered his mom calling it when he was little. Ducking under the couch, he found a piece of plastic and pulled it out, seeing Ochako's face smiling back at him. It was an old picture, her hair was longer, eyes harsher and she wasn't smiling—it almost seemed like she was giving the camera a more menacing version of the look she so often flashed at him. Katsuki shook the thought from his head and looked over the writing on the license, finding her address—15486 Tea Lane.

He could just call her and let her know that he had her stuff. That'd be the normal thing to do, the safe thing to do. It's what he should do. Rolling his eyes, he picked up the phone—but then he turned his attention back to the license. Her address was right there, and from the looks of it, he'd be there if an hour if he left now. He could just run by and drop it off. It'd be a little weird, sure, but honestly the girl was a little weird in herself so it'd balance itself out...right? Driving over there could answer every question he had about her. He could finally end this mystery that she'd so cleverly entangled him in.

He looked at his phone again and sighed, dialing. It rang three times before a woman picked up with a bright, "Hello, Katsuki."

"Mom, I'm in the middle of a moral crisis."

"And you decided to call me? I'm flattered, even though you normally do the opposite of what I say."

"That's because you're the most amoral person I know."

"Look, brat," she said, her voice losing any and all softness and happiness, "don't forget I raised your ungrateful ass! If you wanna get sassy you could've called Eijiro."

"You remember his name?"

"How could I forget my only son's best friend?"

"Maybe you were doing more than being an old bat," Katsuki muttered, thinking back on his childhood. "But that's not what I called about."

"You mentioned something about a dilemma with your conscience..?"

"Yeah," he said, taking a deep breath. Well, here he goes. "I met this girl—"

"A GIRL?! Is she pretty? Gorgeous? With smooth skin and wonderful hair and no split ends?—"

"She's very pretty—but that's not the point."

"Do you want to marry her? Should you marry her? Is she pregnant? Does she need an abortion?"

"Mom, please," Katsuki complained, "Just listen. We went on one date after talking for a little bit and she seems pretty amazing. But she's been hiding something from me—she has this flower shop and weird guys walk in and she has to shut down. And at breakfast she got some kind of message that she was needed at the shop and just took off."

"Weird guys walk into your shop all the time, spawn. Weird isn't weird—it's just different. Art, if you will."

"These guys were really weird. And when she left, she left her purse. I took it home and it spilled all over my fuckin' floor. I have her license in my hand and I don't know if I should just text her or if I should drive over there and give it back."

"Her phone wasn't in her purse?"

"Nah, she was carrying it."

"What about keys? Or a wallet?"

"Nothing like that."

"That's strange. I always kept the most important things in my purse."

"She's got makeup in there."

"What kind?!"

"I don't know—some kind of lipstick and a compact."

"Oh darling, nobody uses compacts anymore."

"Well it was some kind of round palette type thing—mom this shit doesn't matter."

"Katsuki, I don't know a single woman who has a purse and doesn't use it. I can't tell you what to do—I never could—but this girl sounds strange. I'd think long and hard before seeing her again. Who knows what she was raised by!"

"I know, actually," Katsuki said, a small smile gracing his face, "her parents died when she was young so her uncle took her in." He surprised himself. It wasn't a lot of information, he didn't know what her uncle was like or what her parents were like—but it was enough. She'd given him enough.

"Is that all you wanted?" his mom asked, that bubbliness returning to her voice.

"No," he said quickly, "...Tell me about Paris."

"We're in Barcelona…"

x

Days like this made Katsuki appreciate his parents. When he got off the phone with her, it neared eleven o'clock at night. He didn't realize how long it's been since they actually had a conversation—he didn't realize how much he missed it. It inspired a strange sort of nostalgia, not quite the kind that bubbled when he stumbled upon an old baseball glove or anything remotely pleasant from his childhood, but the kind that stirred up old, not quite unpleasant feelings. By the end of the phone call, he still wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

He felt a little more familiar with the comfort that came from hopping into his car and disregarding any advice his mother gave. This is what he was used to—what he expected. This was something he could get behind. And he did, driving his car at eleven at night to get to a place he had no idea how to get to. Honestly, if he had Eijiro with his it'd feel like a typical weekend in high school—but this was a solo mission. The only thing in his passenger seat was the small purse that seemed to hold everything and nothing at the same time.

When he pulled up, he found that 15486 Tea Lane was not the apartment complex or small house he was expecting from a small business owner—but then again, Miss Ochako Uraraka was not just a small business owner. The house seemed more like a mansion, with a white asphalt driveway leading to a small, winding path decorated with flowers—though he couldn't make out the color or kind. There was only one car in the driveway—a black sports car that Katsuki couldn't name if he tried. Red, brick walls seemed to climb at least three stories before slanting into a sharp point at the head of the house. He could see a glass screen door covering what looked like a hefty front door with a single window in the middle, letting out the faintest of yellow lights. Every window was shut, every curtain drawn, letting no light escape through them and not allowing any silhouettes to seep through.

Before he could get out of his car, the front door opened and a man walked out, walking to the single black car in the driveway. "She's hiding a boyfriend?" Katsuki asked himself, knotting his eyebrows together. As the man got closer, Katsuki slumped down in his seat, not wanting to be seen. He noticed that the man had a head of red hair—at least he thought until said man turned around to get in his car and Katsuki seen the distinct white side of his head. "The guy from the shop," Katsuki said, sitting up a little. "Not a boyfriend—a coworker? A distributor?" The man hopped in the car and sped off—and Katsuki did so after a moment's notice. Purse be damned.

Katsuki not-so-subtly followed the man to a familiar place—Kirishima's mom's neighborhood, though they had taken far too many wrong turns for Katsuki to be sure that the mystery man knew where he was going. Trailing not too far behind him, Katsuki watched as the man got out of his vehicle and opened the backseat of his car, pulling out a large box. Then, the man turned and looked at Katsuki, his eyes seemingly burning behind the thick sunglasses he wore. "Shit," Katsuki said before slinking down in his seat.

The man approached him, walking faster than Katsuki thought was possible. He went to start up his car and take off, but the man reached out, wagging his finger at him, indicating that it would not be a good idea to run. When the man arrived at his window, Katsuki simply rolled it down and looked at him disinterestedly. "I'm going to drop this off," the man spoke, his voice deep and clear. "And then you're going to follow me into an alley. Failure to comply will result in me beating the absolute fuck out of you and then I'd have to explain it to Ochako—she's going to be pissed and neither one of us wants to deal with that." With that, the man simply turned around and walked towards Kirishima's mom's house, setting the package down before opening it and taking out a small bouquet of flowers. Closing the box again, the man rang the doorbell before running back into his own car before speeding off.

Smirking, Katsuki hit the gas, following the man around the streets, hitting every corner with more force than necessary. His car was always a few inches away from the sports car—a second away from a collision. Seeing the dark alley, he swerved inside quickly, careful enough not to hit the car in front of him but not to lose him. It's been a long time since he's felt like this. He hopped out of his car quickly, slamming the door, and upon seeing the mysterious other man, he rammed his fist into his nose. "What was that about beating my ass?" he said, shaking his hand—his face was harder than expected.

The mysterious man touched his face, and rolled his eyes when he found blood on his fingers. Quickly, he reached into his hands and pulled out a gun, his finger resting on the trigger. "Ochako's gonna destroy me," he groaned.

"Is that what we're doing now?" Katsuki yelled, seeming unfazed. "We're shooting people?"

"I don't have to shoot if you'd calm down. Ochako would kill me if I shot you."

"How do you know Ochako?!"

"You're going to forget everything you seen and heard tonight, okay?" The man said, ignoring the question. "You're not gonna tell your parents, or your friends, or Ochako. You're going to pretend like you seen nothing. Understood?"

"How do you know Ochako?" Katsuki asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Understood?"

"No!" he said, crossing his arms. "If you don't explain every-fucking-thing, I'm going to tell Ochako exactly what happened—unless you fucking shoot me."

The other man opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the ring of his phone. Putting a finger up to his lips, he silently pleaded with the angry blond to stay quiet before he answered with a quick, "It's done." A moment passed before he spoke again, "I lost him a while ago. The sky is magenta and I shot your brother in fourth grade. Figure out how many times I lied." He hung up the phone and sighed into his hands before looking at Katsuki, who seemed to grow more annoyed by the minute.

"I'll call her back and tell her every-fucking-thing," he threatened, reaching his hand into his pocket. "Unless I get some motherfuckin' answers."

"I'm Ochako's best friend!" the man answered quickly, his voice desperate. "Don't fucking call her!"

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you? Why were you at her house? How can she afford that fuckin' house? Her rent must be astronomical!"

"The bouquet business is booming, I guess? I don't fucking know how much her rent is! Does any of that really fucking matter?"

Katsuki paused for a minute, before shaking his head. "Why were you there?"

"She wanted to talk."

"About?"

"That's an invasion of privacy!"

"Invasion my ass, why the fuck—" This time, his own phone rang, and an old picture of Kirishima popped up. He rolled his eyes before answering with an agitated, "What?"

"Get to ma's house. Now."

"Shit," Katsuki said, running a hand through his head and wondering how the hell he could've forgotten about her so quickly, "What happened?"

"She called me screaming and shit," Eijiro said on the other end of the phone, "Someone dropped off this heavy ass box with—get this—a fuckin' dog inside. A whole fuckin' puppy chihuahua. And a fuckton of money—and some flowers too. Pretty flowers."

"A dog?" Katsuki said, talking to both the mysterious man in front of him and Kirishima, the disbelief evident in his voice. "A motherfuckin' dog?"

"Yeah, bro. Come over, like immediately before my mom dies of happiness."

"Yeah, sure, on my way," he said before hanging up the phone and rolling his eyes. "My girlfriend sent a dog to my best friend's mom?" he asked, mostly to himself, but loud enough where the man in front could hear him.

"Not Ochako!" the man said, quickly, "Someone else sent it. She just made the flowers."

"Why would she do that?" Katsuki asked, more confused than ever.

"She runs a flower shop—she must've got an order. She asked me to make the delivery and I wanted to help her—she's my best friend. Don't mention any of this to her—it'll be really weird and fuck up the surprise when I tell her it was her artist's mom's house." Katsuki paused for a minute before he nodded his head softly, threading his eyebrows together with a hint of confusion. Breathing a breath of relief, the man walked to his car before adding, "And don't follow me home—unless you wanna watch me cuddle up with my boyfriend and eat really cold noodles."

He drove off into the night, twisting and turning down the streets before he said, "Figure out how many times I lied."

x

Katsuki walked up the door and knocked loudly, and much to his surprise, a loud dog yapped from behind it. "Woah," he said to himself before turning the knob and letting himself in, finding a small, white chihuahua jumping up and down, begging to be picked up.

"Isn't Alien the cutest?" a womanly voice said, and Katsuki immediately jumped into a fighting stance. "Yes he is!" Kirishima's mom cooed, picking up the dog and smiling at him. "Yes he is!"

"Ma," Bakugo said, taking a seat on the floor, "I mean this is in most loving way possible—what the fuck am I here for?" The woman smiled and put down the dog, picking up the box he came in. Gently, she scooted it over and encouraged Bakugo to peer into it, seeing three large stacks of bills. He took one out and examined it, finding to be thousands of dollars—and that was just one of the stacks. His mouth hung open a little, as he picked up the second one, counting it and seeing that, it too, was thousands of dollars. He looked at the older woman, who only cooed to the white dog more and walked towards the kitchen, coming back with a note.

'Dear Kirishima Yui,

You are no longer indebted to Chisaki Kai—all debts have been cleared by the time you are reading this letter. In return, I need you to look after this dog. He is five weeks old, neutered, and up to date with his shots. I have supplied you with the appropriate funds to do so. As you should be using this to make sure the dog has a suitable place to live and food, toys, collars, etc. per my request, I do not expect any payment in return.

His name is Alien.'

"There's enough in there to replace everything I lost," the woman said, softly. "And then some for the dog to get a few nice things."

"Do you know where this came from?" Bakugo asked, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"No," she admitted, holding the dog close to her. "And look at the flowers." He lifted his eyes to the stairs and seen two bouquets over there, one orange and one pink. He walked over and he felt the gears in his brain turn slowly—he'd seen these in the shop before. The pretty pink flowers in the glass case and the orange bouquet with a couple black flowers in the middle. They both were fuller now—gorgeous, but all he could focus on were the words repeating themselves in his head.

"These are for a funeral."

"Do you know what these mean, ma?" Katsuki asked, his expression serious.

"Of course I do," she said, smiling. "It means be fucking careful around me."