Content warning: racial slurs
Heel-Face Turn
It turned out that Katsuki had been rendered lactose intolerant in his adult years, and he could be laid low by dairy. He resolved to never eat panna cotta again as the combination of sugar and cream forced him to spend more time in the bathroom than he ever had in his life. Once his digestive tract stopped punishing him, he left the condominium to seek out a pharmacy. Even late at night, the city bustled with car and pedestrian traffic. He dutifully followed the arrow on his map app to a drugstore, grabbed a bubblegum pink bottle that promised to alleviate his upset stomach, and brought it to the only cashier in sight. She smiled sympathetically while scanning it. "Ate something that disagreed with you?"
"This whole city disagrees with me," Katsuki grumbled.
She laughed a little. "We don't all have it out for you." With a wink, she slipped a pack of wine gummies into the bag as he paid. "Have a good night, Sugar."
"Thanks." Only after exiting onto the sidewalk did he realize the cashier was probably flirting with him.
Waking up to a barren kitchen made Katsuki sigh deeply. If he was staying in New York for at least a few months, he needed some essentials such as food. But he didn't require a personal assistant to fetch it for him. The Moscato gummies were no substitute for a proper breakfast, leaving a bitter and sour tang in his mouth. Brushing his teeth with spearmint toothpaste made it even worse. Katsuki shuffled around the condo while scrolling through his phone. He could have groceries dropped off at his front door, and hundreds of restaurants delivered to his address, so he could order something different to eat each day of his stay. The kitchen was stocked with pots and pans, knives, dishes, and utensils, but no small appliances other than a coffee maker. He rectified that issue by ordering a rice cooker and a blender.
How convenient it was to lie in bed, buck naked if he so chose, and have things show up on demand. He wasn't even spending his own money. By the time Saturday rolled around again, he had filled the closet with pieces that he hoped his fashion-conscious sponsors would appreciate, dressing in navy blue slacks, a matching pinstripe vest, and a magma orange shirt. He wasn't entirely sold on the combination, but fashion blogs said that contrasting colors were in vogue this summer season. The address Carmine texted him was only a few blocks east of the mansion on 3rd Avenue, a three-story brownstone sitting inconspicuously among the row. Katsuki almost smiled when he rang the doorbell and Fiammetta answered it with a gasp. "Well, it certainly seems that you no longer require my style expertise! You look like a proper New Yorker!"
Totally the image he was going for. "Thanks." Inside, the scent of authentic cooking permeated the air. "Smells good."
"I should hope so! My sugo all'arrabbiata has been simmering all day. We're having homemade focaccia, too."
"Do I hear someone in need of wine?" Rosso approached with two empty glasses in one hand and an open bottle in the other, managing to fill both without spilling. "I just discovered this stuff and I'm obsessed. German eiswein. Have you heard of it?" Katsuki shook his head. "Try it!" He took a tentative sip, finding it very sweet. "It'll be a great complement for the arrabbiata. It's spicy, see, and this wine is naturally sweeter because they pick the grapes after they've frosted over, so there's a higher concentration of juice…"
Katsuki went "ah" and "I see" at proper intervals while Rosso spouted his extensive knowledge of wine production at him. At some point, Carmine approached with the obvious intent to have a conversation with Katsuki, but Rosso completely monopolized him. Chuckling and shaking his head, the younger brother left and sat at the dining table on Angiolo's left as before. There were only five people present but six settings had been made. Katsuki assumed it was Bianca's honorary place.
Fiammetta called for her husband to help her get everything ready to serve, leaving Katsuki alone in the living room. His attention fell to the copious amount of photographs on the mantle and shelves. Most were of Rosso and Fiammetta in formal or semi-formal attire presumably taken at parties and galas. There were a few pictures of Rosso in his firefighter's training course and some photos of Fiammetta with different groups of students. Younger versions of themselves had enjoyed a honeymoon in Morocco. It was clear they were still very much in love with each other, but Katsuki thought it unusual that in a family formed by quirk marriages, only the youngest, quirkless sibling had children. And Carmine, who was expected to pass on Clarion, wasn't even married. It could simply be that he hadn't found a woman with the right type of quirk.
Katsuki appreciated this meal more than last weekend's since Fiammetta had made everything herself. She ate after all the men had taken bites, instantly criticizing her own cooking. The sauce needed more red pepper, the pasta was not all the same shape, and the bread could've used more salt. They assured her that everything was delicious, and Katsuki was just grateful that he could dispense a safe amount of parmesan over the arrabbiata. The eiswein even loosened his tongue; by the time they moved to the living room to have tea and almond biscotti for dessert, he'd regaled the Gabriele's with some of the more exciting moments during his career as a professional hero. He hadn't done as much as other heroes, but he'd been in his fair share of precarious situations. It felt good to talk about himself and have people listen, that prideful streak rearing its head now that he was comfortably intoxicated.
The liquor eventually worked its way through his system and he requested the location of a bathroom. Rosso sent him upstairs but he immediately forgot if it was the second or third door on the left. Both were closed. Katsuki looked from one to the other a few times before choosing the third door. He guessed wrong, entering a space that had once been a bedroom. A small wooden frame occupied one corner and a bench with a worn cushion sat beneath the window. At the left side of the room stood a bookshelf with cracked, peeling white paint partially covered by a moving blanket. The streetlamp outside glinted off something metallic, compelling Katsuki to pull the blanket aside. More framed photographs had been crammed onto the highest shelf, all layered with dust. He glanced over his shoulder before reaching for one at random, wiping the grime off. It was a picture of Rosso and Fiammetta, perhaps in their early 30s, with a child between them, but the face was scuffed out. He put it back and grabbed another. It showed the couple, even younger, beaming at the camera from either side of a kid celebrating their eighth birthday, as the candle on the cake informed him. The face had been scratched down to the white photo paper.
Katsuki checked the hallway again before holding his palm up and generating small sparks to give off some light. Every single picture featured the child, which he discovered was a girl after seeing her in a frilly Easter dress, with her visage defaced. There were a few in which she had been cut out entirely, leaving a human-shaped void between the adults. There were many of her with Carmine as well, and some of Angiolo holding her as a newborn baby, looking every bit a proud patriarch. Intuition told him it must be Rosso and Fiammetta's daughter. They were in their 40s now, so she'd be at least ten years older than the date on the most recent picture, which had been taken at age eleven. A twenty-one-year-old child? The math added up. But the fact that they tried to erase her sure as hell did not. He removed the last photo from the frame, folded it, and tucked it into his pocket.
The Gabriele's did not notice the change in Katsuki's demeanor when he returned downstairs; they laughed and joked that he was a lightweight who couldn't even handle wine. It took every ounce of effort to summon the ghost of a smile to his face while they carried on like they had no secrets to hide. As soon as someone mentioned Bianca's name, Katsuki hijacked the conversation, targeting Carmine. "You mentioned she's quirkless, but her husband isn't. What ability is it that you hope their kids will inherit?"
"Ah, it's reeeally cool," Carmine slurred, his cheeks red from drinking amaretto all evening, "he's got wings. Real wings like 'n eagle! And he can throw 'em like darts! Whoosh!" He mimed chucking something across the room and his brother laughed heartily. "He's like the Winged Victory– you heard of her? The statue in the Louvre?" Katsuki was not an art or history expert. Carmine waved off his ignorance. "It don't matter. With Bianca's beauty and Vittorio's wings, their kids'll be angelic."
"How many do they have?"
"Three!" Fiammetta exclaimed. "They just had twins in January."
Katsuki didn't miss a beat. "So you have three nieces now?"
"Nah, I got two." The room became silent enough to hear a pin drop. Rosso directed a look of fury at his brother as Fiammetta drew her feet up onto the sofa, shrinking into herself. Katsuki was both surprised and not to see Angiolo glaring at his favored son, his clenched jaw and flared nostrils belying his anger. Once Carmine noticed how everyone stared at him, he quickly back-peddled. "Wait, no, hang on. Their first's a girl and the twins're identical boys, not fraternal, so Azzurra's my only niece."
"Got it." Now he had to force himself not to look smug. "And you don't have any kids yet?"
"Not that I know of. Heh." Carmine downed the rest of his cocktail glass, which had been mostly full.
Like a switch being flipped, the Gabriele's went back to normal, trying to convince Katsuki that there was nothing off about their conversation. "You can't joke about having illegitimate children, Carmino," Rosso chastised. "You have to plant your seeds in a worthy garden." His wife tutted softly. "What? You know I'm right."
She leaned into him. "Doesn't that mean I've failed you since… my garden is barren?"
"You're not a failure." Rosso stroked her hair. "You are helping to raise the future generation. The knowledge and morals you impart guides them onto the right path. Your students are as much your children as their parents." Fiammetta teared up and left the room, her husband following, and hushed tones reached Katsuki's ears. The words were Italian so he had no idea what they were talking about, although they both sounded upset.
Angiolo slowly rose out of an armchair, setting his empty teacup on a side table. "We should leave them," he said. "Not being able to have children has always been an emotional issue."
Katsuki doubted the emotions on display just now were authentic. Maybe the girl in the pictures wasn't their biological daughter but one they adopted. He supposed she could have died, but wouldn't they want to preserve her memory in that case, not try to erase her? And if she had been Carmine's niece, he wouldn't have answered "two" like they were both currently living. It rolled off his tongue so easily since he had been drinking, Katsuki was positive he could pry the truth out of him.
"You gotta lemme give you a ride back," Carmine insisted as he and Katsuki stood on the steps together. Angiolo's car was parked right out front, and he'd left immediately. "You've been drinkin'."
"Not as much as you," Katsuki returned. "I don't want to be in a car with you if you're going to get sick."
"Pssh, I'm fine."
"If you say so…"
"I say so!" His voice echoed along the row of houses. Carmine tapped his foot. "Where the fuck is Johnny?
"Did you tell him to pick you up?"
Carmine checked his phone, squinting. "Oh." He called his driver. "Johnny! Me 'n Dynamight needa ride, pronto! …What? I'm not drunk, just buzzed. I won't throw up in the car. No, you won't hafta get it detailed. Sbrigati per favore." He hung up, grinning. "Johnny's on the way now."
Katsuki stuck his hands in his pockets and scuffed his shoe on the pavement. "So, your niece and nephews might resemble angels when they're older. Angiolo must be happy about that– symbolism and all."
"Yeeeah, it'll be good for our family. And Vitto's a good guy, good to Bianca even though they were arranged. We all went to Firenze to meet him. Dad had the final say, of course, but he cares about our opinion. Can't have his little girl marrying some abusive, worthless fuckwit." The Mercedes arrived and Carmine all but dove into the front seat, turning on the AC to blast himself with cool air. "It's hot tonight!"
"Not really, Boss," Johnny said. He sounded tired.
Katsuki pretended to gaze out the window. "Did Angiolo also arrange Rosso and Fiammetta's marriage?"
"I set them up," Carmine boasted. "She's a Raffaello, from Sorrento. We met on Capri. I was on vacation and she was on a weekend trip with her ninth grade class. Amazin' how one woman wrangled that many teenagers." Katsuki observed a fond smile in his reflection. "I thought she'd be perfect for Rosso. He's always been impulsive and a risk-taker, and he needed a woman who wouldn't enable him. They balance each other."
"Seems like she'd make a good mother," Katsuki said with natural detachment.
"She is… was. Fuck." Even Johnny's eyes flicked to him in concern.
Katsuki withdrew his pilfered picture and held it up before Carmine. "Was this their daughter?"
His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "Where'd you get that?!" Carmine snatched the photo from his hand, staring at it like he saw a ghost. His voice came out soft, cracking. "Rubi… pretty Rubi. I thought they destroyed all her pictures. Dad told them to… burn them all." He sobbed once, wiped his eyes on his sleeve, then twisted around to face Katsuki. "This is Rubina. Her quirk was a liability to our family, so my father, h-he… He made Rosso get rid of her."
"Get rid of her?" Katsuki repeated, aghast. "What did he do?"
He sniffled some more. "Rosso sent her away. Dunno where. They act like they couldn't conceive, but I know Fifi's been in contact with her daughter. Once, Dad asked me to tail her, and I watched her drive all the way across the city to grab a postcard out of a PO box. Dunno what it said or where it was from, but the way Fifi smiled, I figured it was from Rubi. She burned it afterward, and I told Dad I didn't see nothin' suspicious."
"What kind of quirk does Rubina have?" Carmine spread his hands, clueless. Katsuki was interrogating the wrong man. He needed to grill Rosso, or ideally, Angiolo. But even he knew it'd be a bad idea to piss off a Mafia boss by meddling in family matters. A thought occurred. "Did the other families find out about it?"
"Doubt it. Whatever it was, she got it really late. Most kids express quirks at four or five, but she still didn't have one by her tenth birthday party. That I remember."
He sat back in thought. "It's really fucked up that you all act like she never existed. She could be out there right now, wondering what she did wrong to have been abandoned by her family." Growing resentful and bitter, full of hatred and mistrust. If Katsuki had suffered the same fate, he absolutely would have become a villain by now.
Carmine swallowed, responding how he was expected to. "My father decided that Rubina would've done more harm to our family than good. He did what was best for us, and I trust his judgment."
Katsuki scoffed. "I sure as hell don't."
After a few more weeks Katsuki still hadn't been called on to meet any Yakuza. Maintaining his simple workout routine of crunches, push-ups, and jogging did little to prevent him from being mind-numbingly bored each day, reduced to literally twiddling his thumbs. He had never been a sit-on-his-ass kind of guy, but even though he was being paid to do so, he couldn't take it any longer. New York must have its fair share of criminals, and he was a hero. He probably wouldn't have to look very hard to find someone in need of his talents. Just before leaving the condominium in jeans and a black hoodie, he decided to let Carmine know what he was up to in case he got arrested or something. That way, the Gabriele's could bail him out. I'm going out for some action.
Okay. Make sure to keep your passport and hero license on you.
Katsuki whirled around before the front door finished closing. Figured you'd tell me to stay put.
Nah. The state passed a law five years ago to decriminalize vigilantes. As long as you recover stolen property, stop a crime in progress, save someone's life, or avert a natural disaster, you won't be penalized even if you incur property damage. Huh. Not having to pay fines sounded nice. And your hero license sort of gives you diplomatic immunity. Some kind of "humanitarian outreach" clause in a bill Congress passed. It only applies to UK, French, and Japanese citizens.
Lucky me.
With his documents secured, Katsuki ventured out onto the streets. He walked aimlessly until he saw a bar playing something different on each TV screen, including news. He wandered in and sat down, requesting a shot of vodka. The news channel relayed stories of home invasions, showed portraits of individuals suspected to belong to human trafficking rings, and warned against taking illicit substances promising to enhance or alter quirks. A wave of disappointment washed over Katsuki; these weren't issues he could solve within the next twelve hours. Just as he paid for his single shot and started to leave, a breaking news report came on. A criminal duo had robbed a luxury jewelry store and were making off with over a quarter-million dollars worth of product, pursued by police vehicles as well as a helicopter. The motorcycle cut through Manhattan traffic like a hot knife through butter. Upon closer inspection, Katsuki realized the bike was actually a person with a weird engine quirk and the rider was a shape-shifter.
He left nonchalantly, ducking into the alley before boosting onto the rooftop. It didn't offer a great vantage point so he moved to a taller one, then to a complex even higher up. Sirens rang out from the west side of Central Park and he took off in their direction, but not before slipping a simplified version of his hero mask over his visage. Katsuki propelled himself through the air at a high enough altitude to avoid most of the skyscrapers but not so high that he couldn't see the action below. He caught up to the news helicopter as the thieves raced toward the Hudson River, scanning ahead for a point to intercept them.
He squinted as a clusterfucky series of on and offramps came into focus, yet the fused crooks made a beeline for a darkened entrance that Katsuki realized was a tunnel. Descending to street level, he closed in on them just as they roared into the tunnel. He had little room to maneuver but he had the perfect move in his arsenal to take out a target with precision. First, he rocketed past the thieves and skidded to a stop on the center road line. As they rapidly approached, he formed a circle with his left hand and forced an explosion through it with his right, blasting the engine in the mecha-human's chest. Both criminals careened upward and hit the roof of the tunnel. As the shape-shifter landed, Katsuki noticed that his midsection was shaped like a box. He walked up and nudged the disoriented man with his foot. "Hey, spit it out."
"Whu… what happened?"
Katsuki crouched beside him. "I happened. Gimme that shit you stole." When the man only groaned some more, he punched him in the gut. Out popped a box full of fancy jewelry. "Dumbasses," Katsuki spat, waiting for police vehicles to make their way through the tunnel. Once they arrived at the scene, he raised the case and his free hand. They still pointed guns at him. "I'm not with them," he called out.
"How do we know? Drop the box and keep your hands up!" Katsuki obeyed. A young lady officer scurried forward to check the contents, nodding to the others. He stood still as someone frisked him and, finding no weapons, the officers relaxed. "Who the hell are you, exactly?" Katsuki proffered his hero license, which they boggled at. "A Japanese superhero? What're you doing here in New York?"
"I'm on vacation," he dryly replied.
"How'd you catch those two?"
The better question was how come the NYPD hadn't been able to catch the thieves as easily as he had. "That one has an engine quirk," Katsuki pointed. "I blew it up. The other guy got a concussion from hitting the roof."
"You blew him up? How?"
He opened his mouth to answer sarcastically, then realized they couldn't read the specifications on his license. "My quirk, Explosion." Katsuki demonstrated with little bursts in his palm. "You got the goods back, so can I go now?"
"I guess…" The lady officer wore a partial smile. "Thanks for your help today, Dynamight."
That evening, there was a news segment featuring a "superhero on vacation" who went out of his way to stop a robbery. He hadn't been aware that someone had a camera on him at the scene and was thankful the news station omitted the audio, which would've captured his brusque personality. The whole segment framed him as valiant, but he noticed something odd as well: none of the other news stories featured quirks. There were people on camera who clearly had them, reflected in their physical appearance, but there were no videos of quirk usage except his. Maybe it was a societal thing?
The next morning, Katsuki returned from his jog to find an envelope on the welcome mat. He picked it up and turned it over, frowning; his hero name was written on the front in katakana. He left it on the kitchen island until finishing his shower. Inside was a succinct letter written in kanji and hiragana.
Dynamight-san,
Thank you for recovering our valuable merchandise. We would like to reward you for your selflessness. You are cordially invited to our showroom to claim any piece of your choice.
Sincerely,
玉城 宝
Tamashiro Jewelers, Inc.
Jeez, what was it with people rewarding him for doing mundane things? Money, clothes, a condo, and now luxury jewelry… which he didn't wear, but he could always sell it in case he fell into a spot of financial hardship. Katsuki put on a nice outfit and searched the included address on his phone, faltering. I need a ride somewhere, he texted Carmine.
I'll send a guy your way!
He loitered in the lobby until a black Lincoln SUV pulled up and a smartly-dressed chauffeur stepped out, snapping to attention when Katsuki approached. "Mr. Dynamight! It's a pleasure to serve you today." He simply nodded as the man held the door for him. "Where to?"
"100 Thompson Street," he answered.
His driver entered it into the onboard navigation system and set off. "A bit too far to walk in this cold, eh?" Katsuki grunted. "Weather channel said it's supposed to snow this week."
"Great." At least jogging in the snow would count as resistance training.
"Better to call us for your running around, otherwise you might get sick."
Katsuki stared out the window. "I don't get sick." The driver cleared his throat and several silent minutes passed. "What was your name?"
"Marco."
"Can you wait outside the store, Marco? Shouldn't take long."
"Of course, Mr. Dynamight."
Katsuki had already grown tired of being referred to as "mister", repressing a sigh. When they reached Tamashiro Jewelers, he got out without waiting for Marco to open the door for him. A pretty woman in a nice suit greeted him, her long black braid falling over her shoulder as she bowed. "Welcome to our humble shop, Dynamight-san. I'm Tamashiro Hijiri."
"Humble" his ass. Huge diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds sparkled from within glass cases. Lustrous strands of pearls shone subtly on velvet displays. Everything was set in precious metals of gold, silver, or platinum. Once his gaze finished drifting around the shop, he raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like this place was robbed yesterday."
"Those thieves you caught targeted my workshop, which is in Chelsea. This is our sales floor, and the showroom is upstairs." Hijiri smiled kindly. "Please, follow me." Katsuki tried to seem appreciative of the pieces on display. It was obvious they'd been expertly crafted, but he wasn't attracted to shiny, pretty, frivolous things. The showroom was marginally more interesting, featuring unique pieces made from rare gemstones including alexandrite, taaffeite, and benitoite. But orange was his color according to Fiammetta, so he only looked at stones on the warm end of the color spectrum.
"What's this?" he asked, pointing at a large square ring.
Hijiri beamed. "You have a good eye! That's a six-carat Ceylon sapphire on a meteorite band."
"Hmm. What about this?"
"A Padparadscha sapphire set in platinum."
"And these?"
"Bixbite and titanium stud earrings."
Katsuki returned to the Ceylon sapphire. Something about wearing a ring made of meteorite sounded cool. "I'll take this."
Hijiri unlocked the case and presented it to him on a little satin cushion. "May I?" She slipped the ring onto his left middle finger; his right was slightly too large since he'd broken it during his second year of high school. Katsuki flexed his hand. The big orange gem felt heavy, and he wouldn't be able to wear it beneath his gloves, so it was definitely a statement piece. "It suits you perfectly," the woman said, stroking his knuckles with her thumb.
Katsuki ignored the flirty gesture. "How much is it worth?"
"Ten thousand dollars." His eyes widened and she tittered. "I don't regret parting with it. You preserved the integrity of my business. You deserved a fitting reward."
"Thanks. I should get going."
"Oh? Do you have more heroic acts to perform?" Hijiri looked him in the eye, and he noticed then that her irises were bicolored like some of the stones on display. Dark brown to violet. Her grip tightened when he tried pulling away. "You did my family a great service. Giving you one of my creations was a token of my gratitude. There is another member of my family who wishes to thank you as well."
An unpleasant sense of déjà vu came over him. "And you want to take me to meet them?"
"Yes!" Hijiri grinned. "Will you?"
Katsuki sighed. He didn't have a choice if he didn't want to be pestered. "Fine. We'll take my car." Hijiri didn't object to sharing a ride. Marco smirked and waggled his eyebrows as his passengers got settled in the backseat. Katsuki scowled at him in the rearview mirror. "It's not like that."
"Where to, lady and gent?"
Hijiri provided a Soho address. Katsuki kept his hands in his pockets as they ascended an elevator to the top of a building, his jaw dropping when the doors opened. A Japanese-style mansion occupied the entire roof. The walkway was lined with cherry, peach, and plum trees. After removing their shoes and making their way to a grand hall, Katsuki's déjà vu increased twofold. An elderly woman wearing an asymmetrical kimono top sat at the head of a long table. Her exposed arm was covered in irezumi depicting a blue dragon clutching pearls in its many talons, situated between ocean waves and a cloudy sky.
It seemed Katsuki had gone and found the New York Yakuza branch all on his own.
"Okaa-san, I've brought a guest!" Hijiri bowed to her mother. Katsuki copied the motion.
"Ah, good girl. You may call me Takara, Dynamight. Come here." Her no-nonsense tone made him swallow nervously. Takara gave him a once-over before withdrawing a fat stack of cash from her sleeve, dropping it on the table with a thud. "This is for you."
"Um, thank you." Where the hell was he supposed to put it? Katsuki managed to shove the money into his inner coat pocket where it left a noticeable bump.
The woman arched a brow at him. "You're not going to balk and say you don't deserve this reward, that you were just doing your civic duty?"
"I—"
"We play by different rules here, Sweetheart. There are no heroes and villains in New York City." She stood up, looming over him by almost a foot. Katsuki held his ground, but his palms grew clammy with excess nitroglycerin. "Do you know who those goons you caught yesterday were working for?" He shook his head. "Some Triad bitch infringing on my territory! She had the audacity to disrupt my family business, so now I have to send her a message." Takara circled him appraisingly. "Your quirk should help get my point across loud and clear."
Katsuki's fingers flexed. "I don't attack innocent people."
She tutted. "I'm not paying you to murder anyone. I only want you to blow up the Triad's warehouses at the pier."
"What's in them?" he wondered.
"Drugs, mostly. Lots of opium, a bit of ecstasy, and heroin. You'll be doing a service to the city as well, keeping drugs off the streets. Doesn't that align with your moral code?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then you'll do this job for me. I already paid you, didn't I?"
Hijiri pursed her lips, frowning. "Okaa-san, you said that was for helping me. If you want Dynamight-san to do your dirty work, he deserves much more."
"Fine. Name your price, Hero."
She looked expectant. Katsuki floundered for a moment, waving his hands. "Say I do destroy the warehouses. Won't the Triad just retaliate?"
"They will, but not against us." Takara grinned, revealing long, narrow canine teeth. "We'll set up the Italians to take the blame."
"That's not a good idea."
"And that makes you say that?" she demanded.
Katsuki took a deep breath. "The Triad and the Mob work together now. You can't attack one without targeting the other. If you try to make the Italians look guilty and they find out, or the other two find out, then all three of them will come after you."
Mother and daughter shared a look. "How do you know all this?" the former questioned, regarding him with suspicion.
Katsuki pulled a bald-faced lie out of his ass but delivered it with such confidence that they believed him. "Before I came here, I was gathering information in my jurisdiction for the hero Hawks– you might know he's an Interpol agent." The women nodded slowly. "He filled me in on what was happening in the world of organized crime so I knew what kinds of activities to keep an eye out for."
Takara hemmed and hawed. "Old Tamaki ordered those of us stateside not to get involved with the Italians… but this is my territory, and I'm not going to let some little Shina think she can walk all over me because she's in bed with the Micks now." She faced her daughter. "Call the caterers. We're having the Gabriele's over for dinner tomorrow night."
Carmine called that evening while Katsuki cooked yakiniku on a stovetop cast iron grill. "Have you heard the news?!" he shouted, ecstatic.
"No, what is it?"
"Madam Tamashiro wants to meet us to discuss an alliance!"
Katsuki smirked. "That's great. Did she contact you outta the blue?"
"It was her daughter, Hijiri. You know those thieves you caught yesterday? They were Triad grunts who stole from her workshop. What a coincidence, huh? The robbery must've made the Tamashiro's realize they could use our help."
He decided to come clean. "That's not what happened."
"Huh?"
"I met with Hijiri earlier today. She took me to meet her mother, who wanted me to get back at the Triad for her. But she wanted you guys to seem responsible for it. I told her that was a bad idea 'cause then she'd have three enemies."
The other end was silent for a beat. "That hag was planning to have my family take the fall for her vengeance?!"
"Uh-huh."
Carmine scoffed and muttered something in Italian that sounded degrading to women. "Well, I suppose I owe you for preventing that shitstorm."
"No, you don't," Katsuki quickly refuted. "You've done enough already. I don't need anything else."
"I'll just add a little extra onto March's allowance…"
"No! How am I supposed to get home with all the shit you've already given me?!"
"We'll have it shipped to you," Carmine said.
He groaned and hung up.
Katsuki didn't attend the meeting between the Tamashiro's and the Gabriele's, but it resulted in the two families joining forces to defend their turf and assets. The latter brought manpower and old-world money to the table while the former contributed weapons and even more money from their mineral-based investments. The alliance had been formed at the end of February, and by April, they had greatly diminished the Triad's influence in New York. The "bitch" who had gone after Hijiri fled west to Oregon, leaving them to contend with mostly Irish mobsters.
Thus, Katsuki found himself working for both families. He played the part of security guard, enforcer, liaison, intimidation factor, spy, and most recently, Hijiri's arm candy. Spring was the time for all kinds of foundation and charity balls and galas, and as benefactors of numerous causes, the Gabriele's and Tamashiro's had full social calendars. They made it no secret their families were aligned; the more obvious the better, a deterrent to any upstarts thinking about challenging them.
The ease of their alliance was all thanks to Katsuki, who just hadn't been able to ignore his calling.
He stood in a corner drinking a cosmopolitan while Hijiri and her mother chatted with some old fat guy who owned opal mines in Australia and Indonesia. They wanted him to supply them exclusively since Indonesian opals were becoming the new popular thing in the jewelry world. As a skilled lapidary, a craft she honed independently of her quirk, Hijiri promised that her designs would sell like hotcakes and make whatshisname a lot of money. The Tamashiro's beauty and confidence were all it took to win him over. They shook on an agreement and Hijiri approached Katsuki with a pleased smile on her face, plucking a glass of champagne off a waiting tray. "You got the guy?" Katsuki asked.
"I got the guy," she confirmed, taking a sip. "His opals are all mine, and we don't have to deal with any of the labor, processing, or import costs."
"Congrats." He clinked his glass against hers and downed the rest of the cosmo.
Hijiri tilted her head. "Are you all right, Bakugou?"
A sigh seeped out. "I wanna go home. I'm sick of all this gangster shit. These parties, the family dinners, the shakedowns… I'm supposed to be a hero, not some thug."
She reached for his empty glass as an excuse to brush his hand. Katsuki was not too buzzed to notice. "Why haven't you gone back to Japan, then?"
"The Gabriele's promised they'd help me with something," he grumbled.
"What kind of something?" He held his tongue and Hijiri inched closer, rubbing his shoulder. "Maybe our clan can help you instead. We're from Ryukyu, you know. We still have connections there."
"Yeah, maybe."
His noncommittal response earned a huff. "We can leave if you want." A nod. Hijiri looped her arm around his and led him out of the venue. She used his phone to text Marco to pick them up.
"Where to, Miss?"
"Bakugou's place," she instructed. There, she let him slump on her while they crossed the lobby onto an elevator. Katsuki snapped himself out of his funk enough to walk down the hall.
"Made it. You can go now."
"I want to see you safely inside," Hijiri asserted. With a grunt, he fumbled the keys before unlocking the door, making a beeline for the bedroom. Hijiri peered around until hearing him fall into bed with a whump, then she moved in that direction. "You didn't even take your shoes off, did you?"
"Mmph." Laughing lightly, she untied his dress shoes. Since he didn't protest, she took off his socks as well. Hijiri tickled his foot and he rolled over with an arm across his face. "Hey."
"Yes?"
"Get outta here." The nocturnal skyline illuminated their surroundings just enough for Hijiri to see him peering at her from the shadow of his arm, one red iris barely visible. Katsuki looked a bit dangerous at that moment which thrilled rather than frightened her. She leaned forward to unbutton his suit jacket. As he sat up to slip it off, their faces came within millimeters of one another, exchanging heated breaths. He laid back down and Hijiri set her knee on the corner of the bed, heart skipping a beat as his eyes briefly left hers to follow the curve of her thigh. She felt his pulse racing as she loosened the orange tie around his neck, then her nimble fingers unfastened the first few buttons of his black shirt. She gasped when he suddenly grasped her wrist. "If you don't leave now…" Katsuki spoke in a low, gravelly tone, "you're not gonna leave till morning."
Hijiri only smiled. "Are you threatening me, Bakugou? That's not very heroic of you."
"Maybe I'm not a hero anymore."
The sex served its purpose of allowing Katsuki to decompress and stop thinking about all the choices he'd made that led to his current lot in life… for a few hours, at least. He wondered if Takara would be pissed at him for sleeping with her daughter. Then again, Hijiri was a mature and mentally-sound adult capable of making her own choices; she even had three years on him. And she wasn't the first woman who wanted to fuck him because of his status. Dynamight was still one of the twenty most popular heroes in Japan, a country of 125 million people. He was young, attractive, and powerful, and he had the type of personality that made women want to see if they could get him to reveal a softer, more vulnerable side. He didn't know why sex was the go-to method for attempting that.
Katsuki hoped that since things were going so well for the Mafia family, Carmine would suggest he return home to start that whole "influencing the National Hero Billboard Chart" half of their agreement. But they just kept asking for his help: help protect this guy, help get the money that guy owes, help dig up dirt on this city official. June passed and July brought even hotter weather. It made Katsuki irritable which served to enhance his feared reputation as Angiolo and Takara's attack dog; if someone pissed them off, they'd send him to blow up a home or business or their kids' school. He hadn't actually done any of those things, but that was the power of rumors.
He hated summer in New York. Each day that the temperature climbed into the high 80s or reached the 90s, he thought about simply packing his shit and leaving for Yokohama. But he wanted to make sure he got what he was owed, and he thought that if he couldn't have face-to-face conversations with the Gabriele's, they would sleight him. Neither party was naïve enough to put their complete trust in the other. They hadn't signed a contract and collaborated purely based on a desire to honor their word. As far as he was concerned, Katsuki had gone above and beyond what was initially requested of him. He wasn't obligated to work for the Tamashiro's either, but he carried out their orders because Takara paid him very well in cash. Since he couldn't deposit it in his bank account, it just piled up in a leather travel bag.
As August drew to an end, something happened that started causing tension between Takara and Angiolo. It resulted in Takara storming out of a dinner party, Hijiri apologizing for her mother's outburst, and Angiolo telling Carmine that they needed to talk. Katsuki loitered close enough to Rosso and Fiammetta to hear them whispering.
"Do you think she…?"
"I don't know how she could've…"
"We should've kept a closer eye…"
Angiolo and Carmine returned to the dining room, the latter's countenance bleak. He muttered something to Rosso and Fiammetta. Her hand flew to her mouth as she started bawling, and Rosso only set his jaw. The brothers nodded in agreement about something, then Carmine strode toward Katsuki. "Come on," he said. They hurriedly left the Gabriele family home. Carmine appeared uncharacteristically uneasy while waiting for Johnny to pick them up, but he said nothing even in the safety of his own car. He followed Katsuki into his condo, pacing in front of the large windows while the hero stood waiting for an explanation of what the hell was going on. Finally, Carmine halted and blew out a breath. "It seems… that my niece has made her public debut."
"Your niece?" Katsuki blinked. "Wait, Rubina?"
"Yes. She's been living in California for the last four years. She got a college degree there. Know what she majored in?" Katsuki shrugged. "Journalism. Know what she does for a living?" He spread his hands. "She's an investigative journalist."
"Oh… kay?"
Carmine went back to pacing. "She was researching sources behind a recent surge in the opioid epidemic on the west coast, which led her to Triad activities at the ports. This is where things get hairy, Katsuki. Over there, the Triad and Yakuza are allies."
He hummed. "Really?"
"Yes, really! I told you this was the wild west where the lieutenants are in power. My father is the only real boss on the continent, and he is not happy. The Tamashiro's are being pressured by the Pacific clans to break their alliance with us, leave New York, and move their mineral trade to California. A Triad family, Cheng or something, is pushing those clans to push Takara by holding Rubi hostage."
"The Triad has her right now?" Carmine nodded. "And if they kill her, you'll have to retort since she's a Gabriele, but you'd be facing the Triad, Yakuza, and Mob since they're already with the Chinese, and the Tamashiro's would cave 'cause they don't want to lose everything they've built by being on the wrong side of a war." Katsuki folded his arms. "So what're you gonna do?"
Carmine slumped, looking tired and defeated at that moment. "I don't know. I tried talking to Dad about possible solutions, but he's already made a decision."
"Which is?"
He heaved a sigh. "He says… we should take out Rubi before the Triad can. He values the Tamashiro's more than someone who was already exiled from our family."
Katsuki's blood ran cold. "He wants to kill her?"
"Me!" Carmine yelled, banging a fist on the window. "He ordered me to find my niece and put a bullet in her head like she's some kind of mangey, useless mutt and not a Gabriele!" He fell onto the sofa, shielding his eyes beneath one hand, but his sobs were loud and unfettered. "I can't do it. I can't. I held Rubi as a baby. I helped her learn how to read, carried her on my shoulders, cheered for her at school plays… God dammit, what am I supposed to do? What the fuck do I do, Katsuki?!"
He moved to stand where Carmine had been by the window, gazing out at the skyline drenched in the fitting blood-red veil of twilight. He considered his relationship with the gangsters he'd spent the last seven months getting acquainted with. He'd ridden in their cars. He'd eaten dinner in their homes. He'd been their guest at fancy parties. He'd scared and threatened people on their behalf. He'd damaged all kinds of personal property, including irreplaceable heirlooms and small businesses that people poured their life savings into.
But Katsuki always drew the line at murder. The Gabriele's and the Tamashiro's both respected that boundary since he was so good at everything else. Efficient, reliable, strong. He'd amassed a small fortune by using his power for the benefit of a few instead of the many. And he would continue to do so by holding that line. He would not let them murder an innocent girl who had been thrown out by her family like a piece of trash. She never chose to be one of them.
"I'll go with you," Katsuki finally spoke. Carmine raised his head and tried to blink away his tears. "We'll both go to California– you need security, after all. We find out where they're keeping Rubina, get her outta there, and I take her back to Yokohama."
"Wh-what? Japan?"
"As long as the Yakuza boss doesn't want her dead, she'll be safe there with me." Katsuki's gaze bore into the man. "What do you think?"
He managed to sit up straight. "You're saying you want to defy my father's order."
"Yeah, to save your niece's life."
Carmine pondered the table between them. If they made it seem like Katsuki decided to pull some hero shit at the last second, Angiolo would likely tell his favored son to take him out as well. But if the Tamashiro's vouched for Katsuki to Boss Tamaki, the Yakuza in Japan would keep him under their protection; they'd always hated foreigners meddling in their affairs, and promoting heroes was one of their most profitable businesses. He drew in a breath and met Katsuki's eyes. "You swear to keep Rubi safe? You'll watch her back until my father retires and I become head of the family?"
"I swear I'll keep her alive."
The smack of their palms meeting echoed through the condo. "Okay. We leave for San Francisco over Labor Day weekend."
Katsuki had two bags slung about either shoulder when Johnny picked him up on a sunny Friday afternoon. One held his essentials and the other was nearly bursting at the seams with cash. It would buy their plane tickets and a place for Rubina to call her own in Yokohama, as well as anything else she needed to live comfortably. Nervous energy made his hands sweatier than usual, and he wished he could do something with it other than let it go to waste by drying on his jeans. He hopped out of the Mercedes when they reached Rosso and Fiammetta's place; Carmine wanted them to know that he wasn't going to assassinate their daughter. Even though they had an open-door policy for Katsuki, he still knocked on the frame to announce himself.
"Now that he's here, I have something to tell you both." Carmine stood proudly while his siblings sat on the couch, exchanging a look. "We're going to save Rubi."
Rosso's expression fell as Fiammetta's brightened. "What do you mean?" she asked, voice tinged with hope.
"Katsuki and I are going to meet with the Cheng's so they bring us to wherever Rubi's being held. Then he's going to bust her out and escape to Japan with her." Carmine grinned. "So after Dad retires, I can overturn her exile, and you'll have your daughter back!"
"Carmine, th-that's—"
Rosso abruptly rose to his feet. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" His quiet, harsh tone made Katsuki bristle, and he edged closer to the center of the room. "You're going to disobey a direct order from a patriarch?"
Carmine's smile fell off. "Rubi is one of us, a Gabriele. How could I hurt her, much less do as Father asks?" He stared at his brother for a few seconds. "Are you saying that… you don't want to have her back?"
"Father exiled her for a reason. Rubina is a liability to our family." Rosso balled his hands into fists. Katsuki did the same.
"How is she a liability?" Carmine demanded. "She's your goddamn daughter and my niece. Whatever quirk she has isn't worth letting her die, is it?"
"You know nothing about Rubina!" Rosso bellowed. Fiammetta reached for his arm but he threw her back with such force that she nearly fell off the couch. Carmine's eyes widened in outrage as Rosso glared at his younger brother. "I never understood why you were so obsessed with keeping tabs on her. She was our child, our responsibility. Even after we sent her to the other side of the country, you still pestered my wife for information about Rubina. I knew you were keeping in contact with her, Dear, even though Father explicitly told us not to. Can't any of you follow simple fucking orders?"
Carmine helped Fiammetta to her feet, keeping her away from her irate husband. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Rosso?"
"I can't stand how short-sighted you're being in this situation. Rubina has been completely cut off from us for twelve years. She's been using a fake identity all that time. The Triad would've just killed any other journalist who started learning too much, so what could've tipped them off that she was worth using as a bargaining chip?" The room was silent. "It's her goddamn quirk, Carmine. When they interrogated her, she had no choice but to tell them the truth about who she was. Because of Rubina, our alliance with the Tamashiro's is about to fall through!"
"Well, what's her quirk?"
Rosso gestured for his wife to explain. She cleared her throat, taking on her teaching demeanor. "It's a very rare ability. No one in either the Raffaello or Gabriele family has been born with it, according to our records. But I did meet a Michela whose ancestor possessed it, and that person was a descendant of Joan of Arc. It's called the Gift of Gab and is a twofold quirk. First, it allows one to communicate in any language that they hear. Second, it makes users incapable of lying. They can only communicate the truth."
Rosso wore an expression of contempt. "Now do you understand why someone who can't lie would jeopardize everything we do? She doesn't belong in our world."
Carmine was quiet for a while, contemplating. Eventually, his brow furrowed. "That someone is still your daughter. Rubina is still a Gabriele."
"Actually…" Fiammetta stood at the far side of the coffee table, equidistant between her husband and brother-in-law. She smiled resignedly as her gaze drifted from one to the other. "Rubina is your daughter, Carmine."
Absolute silence reigned for five long seconds. Then, Rosso's deep, bitter laughter filled the room and he walked over to the bar to pour something out of a decanter. "Wh… What?" Carmine breathed. "Mine?" Fiammetta nodded once. His knees wobbled. "But we never… We didn't… We weren't having an affair, Rosso! I swear to you! It was just that one time before you were married, before you two even met!" His amber eyes widened in realization. "Oh god, Capri…"
"It was Capri," Fiammetta confirmed, glancing at her husband who had his back to them. "We got married as soon as I moved here, so it was hard to tell. Rubi looks more like me than either of you." Rosso scoffed. "I thought about having a paternity test done, but then I decided it didn't matter as long as she was surrounded with love." She crossed her arms, glaring. "Then you got rid of our child and told me to forget she ever existed. How could you expect me to do that when she's a part of me? She thought the world of you, Rosso. You were her big, strong, brave daddy who saves people. You were her hero. And you just… threw all that away because of your stupid father!"
Rosso turned around, tapping his finger on a crystal tumbler. He ignored Fiammetta, staring at his younger brother who was still processing the revelation that his favorite niece was in fact his daughter. "The only decree of our father's that I ever disagreed with… was when he named you his successor just because you inherited Clarion. It's not right for the second son to claim the throne." He crossed over to Carmine in three long strides, raising the heavy glass.
"No!" Fiammetta shouted. The tone of her voice was one Katsuki had never heard in his life. Shrill yet bassy, it rattled his eardrums and gave him a bout of intense vertigo. He saw Rosso's shirt burst into flames, but since he couldn't be harmed by fire, he just turned all his rage toward Fiammetta. Katsuki vaulted the couch to get between them. Rosso sneered and swung for his head. Katsuki planted his feet, setting off an explosion in his closed fist and immediately opening it. The concussive force rather than the incendiary blast hit Rosso square in the chest, sending him flying into the corner.
The sound of splintering furniture snapped Carmine out of his state. He glanced between Katsuki and his brother a few times. "We need to go." He grabbed his travel bag, cast one last conflicted look at Fiammetta, and walked out the front door with Katsuki on his heels.
Neither of them uttered a word while Johnny drove to a small airport outside Manhattan. Taking the Gabriele's private jet to California was faster than a commercial flight. Carmine called the crew to tell them to be ready for takeoff as soon as they arrived on the tarmac. They had to leave instantly because Rosso was a tough son of a bitch who had probably already regained consciousness and informed their father that his favorite son was openly defying him.
Katsuki spoke up once they had taken to the air. "Are you gonna be able to come back here?"
"I don't know," Carmine muttered. "I guess it depends which of us Dad loves more."
He waited a beat. "Did you love Rubina more than Rosso did?"
"Maybe." He heaved a sigh, mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. "I think some part of me always suspected she might be mine. Now that I know what her quirk is, it's obvious. The three of us have power in our voices. There's no Rosso in her blood. And if he realized that, it would've been easy to do as Dad said even though he raised her as his own." Carmine let his head drop back and exhaled an exhausted, "Fuck."
"Do you want me to tell Rubina that you're her father?"
"Sure, why not? It couldn't fuck things up any worse than they are." He frowned. "No. Tell her I do love her more than the man she thought was her father, and when I take over the family, I'll welcome her back with open arms."
Katsuki hummed. If he were in Rubina's shoes, he would never want to return to the family who feared, abandoned, and felt disgraced by him. But maybe she wasn't the type of person who clung to resentment.
When Carmine and Katsuki landed in San Francisco, a liaison greeted them on behalf of the Cheng family. The Cheng's believed the former had come to negotiate with them over Rubina, which was the only part of Angiolo's unconscionable order he obeyed. "Here's how we're gonna play this," Carmine instructed as they entered California airspace. "You don't say a word. Someone addresses you, just ignore them. Only act when I tell you to."
"Why?" Katsuki asked.
"I'll use my quirk to get what we need. The less direct involvement you have, the less of a grudge these fuckers will have against you. Understand?" He grunted in confirmation.
The private jet landed and taxied, coming to a stop in a hangar where two men stood beside a Range Rover. The better-dressed of the pair bowed while Carmine and Katsuki descended the steps. "Mr. Gabriele, welcome to the beautiful Golden State! This is your first time here, right?"
"It is," Carmine answered. "And you are?"
"Just call me Shao." The man straightened, eyeing Katsuki. "And this must be the Mafia's vicious Akita. He does have quite the imposing aura." Katsuki only stared at him from behind his sunglasses. "I know you and Master Cheng have much to discuss, but it is his sincere wish that you take a day to relax after flying across the country. Accommodations have already been prepared for you at the finest hotel in the city."
"Very well," Carmine agreed. With a snap of Shao's fingers, the driver scurried forward to stow their bags in the back before holding the doors open. The hotel they were taken to had a tropical, beachy aesthetic that one didn't often see in New York. After getting settled in their rooms, the two men conversed over the gap between balconies. "Hell of a view," Carmine remarked of the Pacific less than a mile away. "I'll feel better once Rubi's on the other side of this ocean."
Katsuki's lips turned down. "What if she doesn't have a passport?"
"You'll have to acquire a fake one."
"Where the hell do I find something like that?"
Carmine hummed. "If you ask around local souvenir shops, they'll probably be able to point you toward someone." Katsuki took his word for it. He folded his arms and stared across the vast blue expanse while a persistent breeze tousled his hair matching the beach below. He noticed how tightly Carmine gripped the railing but didn't comment on it. After they'd stood there in silence for a good five minutes, he exuded a long sigh. "Hungry?"
"Not really," Katsuki replied.
"Me neither. Too nervous." He released the railing, shaking feeling back into his hands. "Can you do me a favor once Rubi gets settled?" Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Just… let me know how she's doing from time to time. If she picks up a hobby or a job, I want to know. I don't expect her to call or talk to me, or send postcards like she did with her mother, but from now on I want to know what goes on in her life. If she's struggling financially, I'll send money. If she gets hurt, I'll pay for her to receive the best care." Carmine smiled fondly. "You'll do that for me?"
He ducked his head. "Sure."
"I realize I've asked you for a lot since you came to the States. I'm still going to try my damnedest to help you become Japan's number-one hero. Once the other families see how beneficial our alliance with the Tamashiro's is, they'll start reaching out to more Yakuza clans. Slowly but surely, we'll come together against the Mob and Triad. In the meantime, I'll keep pestering the Yakuza to support you."
"Thanks," Katsuki uttered. He thought he no longer deserved it, though.
Shao and his chauffeur picked them up at noon the next day to have lunch with Master Cheng at a seafood restaurant; he remained seated when they arrived. The man was bald with amateurish tattoos visible on his hands and neck. Carmine claimed the chair directly opposite him, and Katsuki stood off to his left side. Cheng's quirk had something to do with his long fingernails since he used them to scrape crab meat out of legs and pinchers and eat off them like a kebab. Katsuki withheld his disgust, keeping his countenance neutral, but Carmine's lip curled. "Cheng," he greeted.
"Mmph, Gabriele, you made it! This is my favorite restaurant in the entire city." He paused to swallow the food in his mouth, smacking his lips. "Hey, waiter! Bring this man a menu!" he hollered.
"I don't need anything." His growling stomach betrayed him, and Cheng laughed heartily.
"Sounds like you do, Beanpole! Food first, then business. That's how we do things over here." Carmine sighed in resignation and ordered baked scallops, mushroom risotto, and white wine. Cheng's droopy eyes landed on Katsuki. "Anything for the Akita?"
"He had breakfast." Katsuki had, indeed, gotten egg and chorizo tacos from a food truck near the hotel. They were delicious.
After all the dishes had been cleared and the table cleaned, Cheng laced his fingers beneath his double chin and Carmine folded his hands atop the placemat. "So, what's your angle? How are you going to convince me to turn that pretty young lady over to you?"
"Well, first I want to know that she's unharmed," Carmine returned. Cheng motioned one of his henchmen to call whoever was keeping watch over Rubina. Although Carmine's heart soared upon seeing her all grown up, his blood boiled at the fact that she was gagged, blindfolded, and bound to a chair in a darkened area. She wore a tank top and denim shorts, and didn't appear to have any bruises or other marks of abuse.
"Satisfied?" Cheng smiled smugly.
"Yes," Carmine nodded, "now you're going to tell me exactly where she is."
The dining room fell silent, then Cheng let out a guffaw. "Where's the intimidation? You haven't even sicced the Akita on me!"
"I don't need to. You…" He locked eyes with the first henchman, "shoot him." Moving as if possessed, the man drew a pistol from his inner jacket pocket and fired at his cohort before he could react, going down with a shout. "Shoot yourself in the neck." Blood pooled on the carpet. "Akita, grab their weapons. Be thorough." Katsuki knelt to pat down the goons while Cheng sat there gawking at Carmine, returning with a 9mm, a 10mm, brass knuckles, and two butterfly knives. Carmine neatly arranged everything on the table. "I don't need these to kill you," he spoke conversationally, "all I have to do is command you to stop breathing." Cheng started gaping like fish. "But before you die, tell me where my daughter is."
The fat man gasped, taking in great gulps of air. "Ru… Rubina Gabriele is at Monterey Bay Aquarium." He watched Carmine rise to his feet through wide eyes.
"Grab your throat. Extend those revolting nails." Katsuki turned away as blood streamed down Cheng's neck and he gurgled and sputtered. No one among the cowering restaurant staff attempted to stop them when they left. "Monterey is over a two-hour drive from here. Good thing we have a ride." They headed toward the Range Rover parked farther down the road. Shao hopped out, surprised to see them so soon.
"So, were you able to negotiate with Master Cheng?"
Carmine grinned. "Oh yes, he was very amenable to my terms. You should go to the restaurant and kill yourself with one of the weapons on the table." Shao walked off in a daze and they got into the SUV. "Take us to Monterey Bay Aquarium," Carmine commanded the driver. They set off once the route loaded on the navigation screen. "Do you have everything?"
Katsuki glanced at the back where his bags sat. "Uh-huh." He had never witnessed anyone off themselves, much less with their own quirk, and was still processing his emotional response. All of a sudden it turned visceral and his stomach lurched.
"Stop," Carmine ordered. The Rover screeched to a halt, allowing Katsuki to throw open the door and vomit out his disgust as well as his breakfast. He was no stranger to gun violence, but the fingernails… He hardly noticed other cars swerving around them and honking while he leaned over the asphalt, his skin clammy yet prickling with heat. After spitting out the last bits of bile, a water bottle appeared beside his head. He gratefully rinsed out his mouth before getting back in the vehicle, lowering the window to breathe in fresh air. Carmine said nothing for a long time as they proceeded south. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
He smiled partially. "I have fifteen years on you. Haven't you seen someone die before?"
Katsuki weakly shook his head. "Not like that." Not while he stood directly in front of them, close enough to watch the light leave their eyes. Close enough to feel the warmth emanating from their blood.
"It had to be done. The fewer people who come after us when we leave this state, the better. I'm just covering our asses." Katsuki understood the motive, but the method didn't sit right with him. Thankfully the rest of the drive to Monterey occurred without incident. "Find a parking spot and wait for me to return," Carmine instructed the driver. He and Katsuki got out and casually went up to the aquarium's entrance where he demanded two tickets. Once inside, he paused to look around. "Rubi's being held where there isn't any foot traffic. It looked like a big, carpeted room, and I saw light ripples on the floor."
"A new exhibit?" Katsuki suggested.
The man nodded. "That's what I thought. Let's follow the signs."
The first set of "Coming Soon!" signs led them outside, but the second lay down a dark hall cordoned off by velvet ropes. Empty water tanks rose high above their heads and they could only see as far as the ambient lighting allowed. At the end of the hall, a sheet of plastic covered the doorway. Both men listened for any sound from the other side, and hearing nothing, they slipped into the new section. It featured three levels of metal walkways encircling a humongous tank. They stood on the second level; below were covered tunnel-like sections and above was a balcony. Elevators and stairs connected the three stories, but the former weren't operable yet. Carmine took point, drawing a .45 Para from his underarm holster while they crept up the stairs to one side of the balcony. It was a presentation area, with a raised stage in front of the water tank and block seating along the back. In the middle of the balcony stood a chair, its occupant bound and gagged. "Rubi!" Carmine called out in relief. Her head angled toward him.
Just when Katsuki thought their rescue attempt was going too smoothly, Carmine sank into the floor as if it were quicksand. His surprised shout summoned the Triad members who had been keeping Rubina secure. Katsuki saw a humanoid figure emerge from the false floor and rocketed toward it, blasting it with both hands. A masculine cry of pain rang out, freeing Carmine who fired at the concrete manipulator, spattering grey matter across the back wall. Tendrils of ivy snaked along the ceiling and descended to form a cage around Rubina, lifting her whole chair upward. Katsuki tracked the vines to someone with their hand planted on the door frame and fired a concentrated blast at them, forming a new hole beside the exit. Sunshine illuminated the unused exhibit and made it much easier to see. Grunts with guns stood just outside the open door; Katsuki counted four barrels shooting at them. Carmine scurried over to the gap his compatriot conveniently made and managed to drop two of their enemies before ducking back down. "I got these guys!" he called. "Grab Rubi and go!"
Katsuki boosted up to the ceiling, hanging from a pipe with one hand. The ivy remained despite the user being incapacitated. He yanked Rubina's gag off before using tiny explosions to burn through the rope securing her to the chair, removing her blindfold last. He was momentarily mesmerized by how blue her eyes were, clear and bright as the summer sky. No, even bluer than that, like precious gems of exceptional quality. "Hold on," he said, wrapping his free arm around her. Rubina clung to him without a word, gasping as they dropped down from the twenty-foot ceiling. Katsuki shielded her with his body while aiming both palms at the exit peppered with gunshots. One large explosion decimated the wall and sent the Triad goons flying with short-lived exclamations. Carmine nodded to him, heading outside to deal with any reinforcements honing in on their location. Katsuki faced Rubina, who stared past him in shock, and grabbed her upper arms. "Can you run?"
She glanced down. "No. They twisted my ankle while moving me here."
He jerked a thumb at his back. "Then hang on tight. I need both hands." Rubina wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She was the same height as him but felt like skin and bones. Katsuki jumped down to the second story and proceeded back the way he and Carmine had come, every sense on high alert. Just as they reached the dim hallway leading to the rest of the aquarium, shouts echoed from behind. He didn't think twice as he slapped his palm on a vacant fish tank. The deafening roar of thousands of gallons of water escaping containment drowned out the explosions he used to propel them out of the rapidly-flooding complex. Outside was chaos, with patrons screaming and fleeing in every direction. Katsuki spotted a van dispensing more Triad grunts and promptly ducked into the parking lot, making his way to the Range Rover. Rubina released him so he could unzip one of his travel bags and thrust his black hoodie at her. "Put this on."
She did so, tucking her disheveled, fiery red hair into the hood. Katsuki surveyed the scene. Police vehicles had responded to 911 calls even though no one could tell them exactly what was happening. He hoped Carmine made it to safety; now to get his daughter out of the country. While dialing the number of a taxi service, Rubina looked him up and down. "Who are you?"
"Name's Dynamight. I'm a hero from Japan."
One of her threaded eyebrows arched high. "How did my uncle get tangled up with a Japanese superhero? That was him I saw back there, right?"
"Long story, but the gist of it is he hired me to help your family form an alliance with the Yakuza."
Her tone fell flat. "Oh, I see. So you're a gangster, too." Katsuki scoffed. "No?"
"No." He used her moment of silent contemplation to request a cab. As they wandered away from the Range Rover, Katsuki glanced back to see if Carmine approached it. But no one did, and the driver continued waiting to fulfill his commandment. Rubina sucked in a pained breath after a few steps, limping. "I got you," Katsuki said.
"…Thanks." While he carried her princess-style, she studied his face. Sharp jawline, narrow eyes, straight, slender nose, full lips, smooth, unblemished skin. His wild hair didn't match his noble features. "You don't have to keep speaking English if you don't want to."
"Eh? Nihongo ga wakarimasu ka?"
"Watashi wa donna gengo demo hanasemasu."
They stopped on the sidewalk to hail the taxi. "But can you read and write it?" Katsuki pressed.
"Yes. I can speak, read, and write any language known to mankind… as long as I've heard it first."
"You really do have the Gift of Gab." Rubina regarded him skeptically, but she waited to speak until getting situated. Katsuki directed the cab to the Monterey Regional Airport.
"How do you know that's what my quirk is called?" she wondered.
"Your mother told me."
"When did you talk to her?"
"Before leaving New York with your uncle to save you." He glared at the cabbie who shot them a suspicious glance. "There are some things you need to know."
"Okay, lay it on me."
Katsuki told her everything during the fifteen-minute drive to the airport. Rubina listened quietly, not once interrupting him. When he relayed that her grandfather had ordered Carmine to fly to California to kill her, she didn't seem surprised. When he informed her that Carmine was actually her father, she let her head drop back and exhaled a long sigh. "Jeez."
She didn't say anything more as Katsuki bought two tickets to San Diego since it wasn't wise to return to San Francisco. When the Triad captured Rubina they smashed her phone and took her money, leaving her driver's license and passport in case they felt like transporting her to China. They had an hour until their flight, and it didn't escape notice that Rubina gazed longingly at a little bistro they passed on their way to the gate. "Want something?" Katsuki offered.
"Maybe. I haven't eaten in a few days." That explained her waifishness. "I'm worried I'll just throw it up."
He didn't want that, but he also didn't want her to be dead weight. "Eat something," he insisted while steering her toward the bistro. Rubina apathetically surveyed the offerings, then the expectant face of the cashier made her sigh in resignation.
"Can I get an asiago bagel, toasted, with cream cheese? And a dragonfruit raspberry smoothie?"
"Add peanut butter," Katsuki put in.
"Eww, what? No." She wrinkled her nose.
"You need protein."
"Then I'll also take… a steak quesadilla." She made a face at him. "Happy?" Katsuki wordlessly paid twenty dollars. After receiving her order, they sat in a secluded corner where she noticed his red irises constantly flicking to her. "Do you want a bite, or do you just like watching people eat?"
"N-no, it's just…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought you'd be… different… given the situation."
"Like how, crying? Whining? Thanking you profusely for saving me?" She tutted. "What really bothers me is the fact that I can no longer live the life I planned because of my family name. I got my dream job after graduating early, and now I have to drop everything and move to a foreign country. I have to do everything all over again! Find a job, make friends, network, find a place to live, buy a car…" Rubina frowned at her bagel. "It's a lot for someone who's never had anyone else to rely on."
Katsuki waited a beat before replying, "You can rely on me." She was dubious. "I'll help you as much as I can."
"Why?" she demanded. "You don't even know me. You worked for my family and they wanted me dead."
He smiled partially. "I mostly worked for Carmine. Didn't trust your grandfather even before he gave the order to kill you."
She also smiled. "So you saved me out of spite?"
"It was the right thing to do."
Rubina rolled her eyes. "Jeez, you really are a hero. Flying across the whole country to rescue some girl you've never even seen before."
"I saw some pictures from when you were a kid," Katsuki refuted. "They didn't have your face, though."
She sipped her smoothie. "Do you think I look like my mom?" He nodded. "Everyone used to say that. 'Oh my god, you're just like her! You're definitely her daughter! You're going to be so pretty when you get older!'" She scoffed again, then grew a bit downcast. "I last sent her a postcard four years ago, when I got into Berkeley. I never included my address so she couldn't send anything back. Until this weekend, no one had any idea that I came from a Mafia family."
Katsuki hummed. "Rosso gave you a fake identity, right?"
"Right, I've been Mariella Sanzio for the last twelve years. Everyone called me 'Mari'. The last time I heard my uncle call me 'Rubi', he asked what I wanted for my tenth birthday. Then I turned ten, I got my quirk a few days later, and… my parents stopped letting me go to school. They barely let me out of the house. They had a lot of talks with my grandpa, and then my dad put me on a plane to Seattle. He sent me to a boarding school." She paused when they announced that the flight to San Diego would soon depart. "Everyone must be so happy that I'll be even farther away from them."
Rubina conked out during the hour-and-a-half flight, initially resting against the window before planting her cheek on Katsuki's shoulder. She didn't snore, but even if she did, he wouldn't give her a hard time after everything she'd been through. He offered to carry her when they disembarked, but she refused on the grounds of not being a damsel and even wanted to take half their carry-on luggage. "You need to keep weight off your ankle, not add more," Katsuki chided.
"I'm fine!" She gritted her teeth while trying to keep pace with him. Her wincing annoyed him to the point that he groaned and veered off to one side of the terminal.
"You carry the bags, I carry you."
"But—"
"Until we find a first-aid station." Since his tone brooked no argument, Rubina acquiesced and climbed on his back. Katsuki spotted a red cross in the international terminal along with currency exchange, lost and found, and translator services. A physician glanced up when they entered.
"Uh-oh! What's the damage?" he asked.
Katsuki set Rubina down in a chair. "She twisted her ankle."
The man knelt before her. "I see! And you kept walking on it– look how swollen it is!" He tsked before grabbing her ankle with one hand and staring at an invisible watch around his wrist. This confused both of them until the swelling abruptly went down.
"How'd you do that?" she wondered, flexing her foot.
"I reverted your damaged cells to a point in time when they were all healthy," the physician explained. "You're good to go, Miss. Safe travels!"
"Thanks." She stretched her legs when they got to the departure gate. "Cellular reversion… interesting. I've never met someone with a quirk like that before. Have you?"
Katsuki shook his head once. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
"I've been in America since February and I've barely seen anyone use their quirks in public. They don't show them on the news, either. What's up with that?"
Rubina gave a little laugh. "Well, it's because public opinion of meta-humans is pretty negative in this country. If someone with a flashy quirk appears in the media, they're likely to get harassed and ridiculed instead of having their good deeds applauded because people are petty and jealous. On the other hand, thanks to the 'keep your cards close' mentality, crime rates are lower since no one knows what kinds of abilities everyone else has. Like, if someone decided to rob a store you were in, you'd just blow them away, so they'd rather not risk it. Some criminals still do, of course, and there are factions trying to breed stronger and stronger abilities, but quirk supremacy and eugenics are another can of worms entirely. I published a piece about it for my senior project." Katsuki hummed. Now he had something to read during the flight to Narita. Twelve hours was a long time to spend seated beside someone who was basically a stranger, but at least they were in first class since that was the only thing available by buying tickets at the counter. "Hey," Rubina spoke up a few minutes after takeoff, "what's your real name so I don't have to keep referring to you as 'Dynamight'?"
"Bakugou Katsuki."
She held out her right hand and they shook, wearing amused little smiles. "Thanks for saving me from the Triad, Bakugou."
"No problem."
Turbulence kept them quiet until the plane reached cruising altitude and the seatbelt sign turned off. Rubina gratefully reclined, feeling warm and secure in her borrowed hoodie. She peered up at Katsuki while he sat staring at their flight path displayed on the screen in the seat before him. The tension in his posture was at odds with his unperturbed expression, so she knew he was deep in thought. The thing about being forced to communicate truthfully was that she became very good at reading people. Since Rubina couldn't trust anyone to be as honest as her, she learned to pay attention to how people spoke rather than what they said. Tone, cadence, volume, inflections, word choice, body language, gesticulation, eye contact. She'd never met anyone able to control all those aspects during a face-to-face conversation, and Katsuki was no exception. His silence was the kind that spoke volumes. "What are you dwelling on?" Rubina questioned.
"Huh?"
"I can tell you have a lot on your mind."
"Oh." He relaxed slightly. "Just going over everything I have to do when we land."
She laughed. "Well, since I'm sure most of it concerns me, let's go over it together." Katsuki turned toward her. "Put your seat back, it's comfortable." He hesitated before abiding by her suggestion. "See? It's almost like lying in bed."
"I guess." Katsuki blew out a breath. "First thing's first– you need to apply for citizenship. Having a sponsor expedites that process, but you need a place of residence." With that statement, Rubina deduced she couldn't reside with Katsuki. "I live in an apartment at my agency. You'll be able to stay for a few days, but you need long-term accommodations." He paused. "With the amount I earned working for your family, we could buy you a house."
"Really? I have no idea what the housing market is like in Japan."
"Cheap and slow. People are more concerned with working than starting families, and they live where they work 'cause it's convenient. Besides…" He paused. "A house is probably more like what you're used to."
Rubina grinned, trying not to snicker. "What I'm used to is living in an apartment with three other people. Before that, I lived in school dorms. But it's a nice sentiment. Who hasn't wished they had their own home at twenty-two?"
Katsuki hoped she couldn't see his ears burning. Assuming had made an ass out of him. "Okay, then… do you want a car, too?"
"Maybe. Will I need one? I've heard Japan has good public transport systems."
"It depends where you live, rural or urban."
"Let's put a pin in that idea for later," Rubina said. She looked down at herself. "Clothes?"
"You can get those in Yokohama."
"But Tokyo is one of the fashion capitals of the world."
Katsuki's eyes narrowed. "I'm not taking you shopping in Tokyo."
She waved it off. "I'm not into designer or couture fashion, anyway. Although, if I get a job, I should have some nice suits…"
"You don't have to worry about working right away. There's more than enough money for you to live off of."
Rubina did snicker, then. "I hope no one's listening to us. I'm starting to sound like your kept woman or something." Katsuki looked around, embarrassed, and she reached for him, laughing harder. "I'm joking! It's a joke. Jeez, you're so serious." He was not amused. "How's the journalism field in Japan?"
He mulled it over. Given the situation he'd just extracted her from, she shouldn't go sticking her nose into more organized crime business. "You'd have lots of subjects to cover. Heroics are a big one, but there's also politics, economics, education, finance, social commentary…"
"Heroics? So I could get paid to publish all the incredible things you do?"
Now his cheeks burned. "It's not just me at the agency, y'know."
"Well, they'll have to excuse me for being biased."
Katsuki didn't think anyone had ever regarded him with such admiration; it made him a little uncomfortable. Or maybe it was the gratitude swimming in Rubina's piercing blue eyes. They were framed by long lashes that almost disappeared against her tan skin. High cheekbones and a narrow chin made her face look hollow, and her nose was uncharacteristically petite compared to the rest of her family members. Downturned lips gave her a consistent pout. "You can't work for the Endeavor Agency," he said.
"Why not?"
"Everyone would accuse me of favoritism."
