there are a couple of references to events/facts from 'this dreadful spectacle' and 'appendix b: statics and cohesion' made toward the end of this chapter. they're mostly self-explanatory and shouldn't require you to go back and read the other stories, but for the full effect, i'd recommend checking out those splinter pieces first!
ciao~
Katsuki performs an automatic factory reset and represses the ever-loving fuck out of his untimely revelation, because he's got a job to do and he knows what his priorities are and he's a goddamn professional.
"I don't –hmmm—feel so good…" Uraraka says, in a tellingly strained burble. Katsuki braces himself for the epic sick he's sure she's about to serve up, only to have his stomach bottom out instead when she leans in –or, more sort of falls forward, drops her chin onto his neck guard, and proceeds to –there's really no other word for it—nuzzle at his cheek. Apparently, she's now taking whatever the hell liberties she damn well pleases.
And he doesn't even freaking mind. Worse still, he thinks he likes it.
"Suck it up." He snaps, discomfited, sensing that his days of blithely ignoring her atomic fucking cuteness have come to a summary fucking end. The prospect alone is galling, and hateful, and does effectively shit-all to prevent him from grasping shameless at the tit-for-tat pretext to take some liberties of his own. "I mean that literally." Katsuki clarifies, curling his fingers into the fabric of her jumpsuit where his left hand is pressed over her ribs, and turning his face just so, to nudge her hair out of the way and gain access to the smooth slope of her jaw, the shapely, tapered arch of her nape. "Puke on me and die." He warns, gruff, only dimly concerned that the seriousness of his threat might be undercut somewhat by his retaliatory participation in all the damn snuggling that's happening –and what in fuck is the world coming to, that that's a thought he has actual cause to be thinking?
Dismissively, Uraraka snorts out a weak, 'ppfff.'
"Try me, Sweetness. I'll drop your ass like a sack of fuckin' bricks." He insists, subtly breathing her in as he walks them right up to the edge of the hole he's blown into the wall.
Her woozy giggle lets on that she knows he's full of shit.
"Mmmmmkaaay…" She murmurs, lazily patronizing. "Whatever ya' say, boss."
Mochi-brained friggin' smartass, he mentally bites back, not fighting his amusement.
In truth, it's no skin off his ass if she needs to hurl. It isn't an eventuality he would welcome, necessarily, since if she does start geysering barf, he's the one who'll be wearing it. But for fuck's sake, Uraraka's the sole reason the city isn't currently a ruined, smoking hellscape; as far as he's concerned, she's more than earned herself a one-time, judgment-free pass to spew-a-palooza.
Still, 'judgment-free' isn't the same as 'hassle-free,' and Katsuki is fucking contractually obligated to give her shit, just like anyone the hell else. She isn't magically exempt just because she's (not-so-inexplicably) irresistible all of a fucking sudden.
(…aaand, so much for 'repressing' his surrendered denial.)
"Uraraka," he grates, grudgingly tearing himself free of the inviting fragrance of her skin as he prepares to take a flying leap out of the Registry, "ready?" The way she hunkers down and burrows against him in earnest suggests she's not.
Typically, if he's bothering to ask and she answers in the negative, he'll standby for the go-ahead. But at this particular moment? Katsuki is beyondanxious to get as far the hell away as he can from this grisly, floor-wide testament to the three lives they failed to save, whether or not that means risking the revival of Uraraka's long-dormant, vomit comet drawback.
So, "Tough shit." He snipes, in an undertone of shamed impatience.
Then, delaying again only long enough to secure his MVP cargo, he jumps.
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On the way up, Katsuki gets a first-hand glimpse at the devastating extent of the damage Fissure visited on the Registry. Within, he sees collapsed or gutted internal structures and burst water pipes and the odd electrical hazard, ominously flickering. Externally, riven and craggy hunks of the building sway like reeling giants, tethered in place like enormous, misshapen balloons on invisible strings. The Registry is fucked.
He also gains some important perspective on the historic, major league fucking insanity that is Uraraka, keeping this monolithic shitting colossusof a structure afloat, all by herself.
Seriously, fucking how?
What the shit even is she?
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No sooner do they touch down on the roof – miraculously sans vomit—than Katsuki tunes his earpiece to Nerd Frequency, cuts across any forthcoming pleasantries, and starts summarizing the highpoints of their –or more specifically, Uraraka's—predicament.
When he finishes, there's a moment of silence before, "…how many floors?" Deku asks, and Katsuki rankles, because what he hears in the nerd's voice is fascination and excitement, not stunned incredulity –the state in which Katsuki now fucking lives. Of course Deku isn't surprised Uraraka's suddenly lugging around a few extra thousand goddamn tons. He's fucking never surprised when his friends and allies pull impossible shit out of their asses –only earnestly thrilled and brimming with vicarious pride.
"Focus up, fuckwit. You got a way to get a hold of that Shiketsu brat Small Eyes was up own ass about last week? 'Kukan,'* or some shit?" That puffed-up Meatball Bastard had stopped by the main office several days ago, specifically to preen about Shiketsu's newest 'rising star;' some second year kid with a spatial manipulation quirk, who can carve inter-dimensional portals out of thin fucking air and travel at whim anywhere she goddamn wants –although Katsuki's since learned the kid's quirk comes with a potentially fatal drawback: long trips or rapid, repeated use of her power induces a kind of short-term narcolepsy, and diminishes the amount of control she has over where she pops out. Camie, who broke this news to Katsuki over tea and daifuku** (which she ordered and 'let' him pay for, took shameless shitting dozens of selfies with, and then pushed aside and never fucking touched), further explained that, as Shiketu's training programs have started ramping up and really testing the students' limits, Small Eyes' wunderkind has developed the unfortunate habit of opening portals at unintended, terminal heights, immediately conking out, and doing her level fucking best to plummet to her death.
So, the kid's green and her quirk's a work in progress and her power isn't technically teleportation, but it's functionally just as fucking good, and Katsuki can't think of anyone else –on their side and/or in the industry, anyway— who can bring them the pro they need to 'wrap' this shit up anywhere near as fast.
"'Kukan Shi-san,' I think. And yeah, Shishikura-senpai actually introduced me to her over the weekend! She's a great kid, and her quirk is stunning. The applications are endless!" Deku announces, enthusiastic. Uraraka, (as ever) reflexively responding to Deku's joy, hums contentedly on Katsuki's shoulder. Katsuki glowers into the middle distance, coming to terms at last with why this has always been so uniquely fucking maddening.
Heading Deku off before he starts runaway blabbering about the kid's quirk like the whack job fanboy he is, "Got her number, then? Or Meatball's?"
"Not his number specifically, no, but I've got Nagamasa-san's branch office on speed dial, and I'm sure someone there'll be able to help us make whatever arrangements we need. Speaking of: what arrangements do we need to make?"
Off the top of his head, Katsuki can think of three heroes who might be of use in resolving this situation: there's Shiva, whose 'Diamond Dust' quirk could dissolve the Registry into harmless, shimmering sparkles; and Green Thumb, whose eponymous power could transfigure the entire building into vines and flowers, and possibly bond it back together; and then there's Shrink Wrap, whose size manipulation abilities would enable her to envelop and shrink the Registry down to infinitely more manageable dimensions.
Unfortunately, Shiva lives in some far-off southern prefecture, and Katsuki's pretty sure he remembers hearing news about Green Thumb expatriating recently, so he has to imagine neither of them are in range of the kid's current abilities. Although, even if the kid could get one of them here, who knows how long either of their quirks would take to fully disintegrate or transform a building of this size? Finally, because the Registry's a multi-billion yen government asset, they have to try to preserve what remains of the structure if they have the means to do so, and the effects of Shiva's and Green Thumb's quirks are, regrettably, irreversible –a fact which should have barred them both from consideration as anything other than potential courses for last resort.
Except, by process of elimination, that just leaves Shrink Wrap.
Shrink Wrap, who lives in Tokyo –only one ward away—and whose quirk works fast, which he knows from having seen it in action. She was famously recruited by NASA and JAXA to shrink and retrieve the decommissioned International Space Station so they wouldn't have to crash it into the ocean, and footage of the event was livestreamed to the whole fucking planet. In a matter of seconds, she was holding the ISS in the palm of her hand, reduced to roughly the size of one of the grenades on his belt, and packaged in sheer, shiny wrapping. Later, the unwrapping was also simulcast, and the world watched her set the shrunken craft on the ground, hop back a step, and dramatically raise her arms into the air, cackling like a crackpot as the empty desert plateau before her filled with a deadass million tons of space junk in the blink of a damn eye.
By any criteria, then, Shrink Wrap's the clear choice. And it should be an easy choice. But the point is, he doesn't fucking want to choose her, and racks his brain for any viable alternative, even after he's convinced it's a lost cause.
Generally, Katsuki doesn't like hiring freelancers, since they tend to be high-demand specialists whose services are often only available at extortionate, bank-breaking rates, but he'll hire one if the situation calls for it –including Shrink Wrap, who's bound to be charging a generous fucking premium after that stunt with the ISS. And he's got no beef with the so-called 'Seal n' Fresh Hero' personally, either. How the hell could he, when he's never freaking met her?
The actual source of his aversion to her, pathetically, is the nature of her quirk, which reminds him unavoidably of the time he was motherfucking atomized in the woods, squeezed into a claustrophobic fucking marble, and dragged against his will into the inciting incident that ended All Might's career.
Ultimately, however, his shitty baggage isn't a factor. His sole priority right now is relieving Uraraka of her burden as quickly as possible, to spare her any among a host of potentially debilitating consequences overclocking her quirk might invite.
So, "Get me Shrink Wrap, fucking yesterday." He issues this command in a tone edged with unmasked hostility.
A short-lived silence punctuates the rhythm of their exchange, and Katsuki can practically see Deku nodding at Todoroki (who's either directly at the nerd's side or loose one mortal fucking coil), mutely delegating Half-and-Half a task. Todoroki'll be nodding right back, fluently translating Deku's rote motion into explicit instructions, after which the two of them will no doubt make fucking goo-goo eyes at each other as they split off to complete their individual assignments. Predictable fuckin' saps…
At length, "We're on it, Ground Zero." Deku says. "We'll put the call in for Shrink Wrap, and I'll head in her direction just in case we can't get permission to borrow Kukan-san."
Katsuki opens his mouth to snap that 'can't' ain't a goddamn option, but comes up short when a one-two drip splash-lands on his shoulder, followed by the slightest, partial deafness-muffled sniffle.
It's Uraraka, crying.
Urgently changing tack, "Deku," he snarls, grasping angry for a way to stress that time is of the essence without calling attention either to Uraraka's distress –since it seems like she's trying to be discreet about it—or his own sense of frustrated helplessness, because what fucking right does he have to inflict his spirit dampening, selfish-ass misgivings on the one person standing between this city and complete annihilation? Per fucking usual, Deku pickaxes his way into Katsuki's brain and mines the meaning he fails to actually communicate, then skips ahead to the guileless, heartfelt assurance portion of the program.
"You can count on me, Kacchan." This declaration evokes a haunting scene from a year past: Uraraka, twice impaled in his stead and passed off into Deku's care while continuing to bleed absolutely outright motherfucking everywhere; and Deku, making exactly the same vague, uncompromising pledge to do whatever it might take to save her.
Following the script like Deku hasn't just deliberately kicked his heart in the dick, "Fuck off already, damn nerd."
Deku's answering smile is fucking audible.
"Urav—Ochako-san," Deku chimes in again, with an easy, honest affection Katsuki hates, "If you need anything –really, anything at all, even if it seems trivial, don't hesitate to ask. I'm here if you need me, just a tap away. You know that, right?" Uraraka, evidently trying to pretend she's fine, quietly struggles to compose herself enough to respond.
After a moment, in a tightly controlled yet candidly sweet voice, "I know. Thank you, Deku-kun."
"Always." Deku promises. "Although," he laughs, "since Kacchan's there, you'll probably have all the support you can handle, and then some. Still, the offer stands." Shrewdly forging ahead before Katsuki can demand what in fuck that's supposed to mean, "In the meantime, hang tight; we'll be there before you know it! You've got this!"
Katsuki, outraged at Deku's drive-by insolence, "Fucking of course she's got this. What part of 'fuck off already' don't you understand? Stop mother henning and dicking around and go get me my goddamn freelancer!"
Then, before the nerd can get another word in edgewise, Katsuki smacks off his comm and plunges the rooftop into abrupt, spiteful silence. The distant dirge of the evacuation sirens and untold scores of cars honking down below do constitute a kind of unpleasant ambient noise, but for the most part it's all too faint and far away to fully hear, and keeps getting filtered out by the wind, which at this altitude howls loud and endless. Strangely, though, the raging bursts of wind lend the quiet an eerie definition, and seem to enhance it.
That is, until Uraraka finds her voice again, and punctuates the tentative peace with a petulant –if strained—rebuke: "Mouuu, would it kill ya' to be nice, just once?"
"Are you fucking new?" Katsuki sneers, his much maligned 'rage aura' flaring up and instantly incinerating any goodwill she might've accrued. Enfeebled to an almost comical degree, Uraraka squirms against him briefly, indignant and determined, managing to push herself back to confront him face to face only after tremendous effort. She wobbles drunkenly, and he shoots a hand out, gently catching her at the nape to brace her. The assist does nothing to mitigate her scrunch-browed disapproval.
"Deku-kun was cheerin' me on and being a good friend! You had no reason to hang up on him like that!" There're some fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, but most are adhered in an uncomfortable-looking, gel-like film to her eyes –because she herself is currently a micro-gravity environment, meaning any liquid in her intrinsic field will ball up and fail to fall. As soon as he notices, he frowns and reaches up with the heel of his other hand to smear away the accumulated moisture so she doesn't blind herself with her own damn tears.
This explains why she's been trying to hold it in, at least. She and the nerd both are unrepentant, dyed-in-the-wool crybabies, so he had wondered.
"'No reason?' Every second that shithead spent shooting off his idiot mouth was time fucking wasted!"
"So what! It's my time to waste!" Which, though technically true, is also childish and fucking asinine.
In general, this entire line of reprimand feels somehow…gratuitous. She's constantly pointing out –with odd self-satisfaction—examples of 'how far he and Deku have come since high school,' and she might not always condone the way he interacts with the nerd, but she very rarely cries foul –unless, by her reckoning, he really crosses a line. And he objectively fucking hasn't.
So the question is, what is this 'defending Deku's shitty honor' shtick actually about?
"You planning on keepin' this shit up all night, then? Say the word, Round Face, and I'll leave you the hell to it." Real consternation surfaces in her expression, and –interestingly—restores some of her color. "You wanna get him back on the line and gab like a couple o' carefree chatterfucks, I'll even reopen the channel before I go, since you probably couldn't do it yourself with those bum fuckin' arms!" She pouts, offended, as he wipes away another teary bubble forming under her left eye, noticing as he does so that her gaze is clearer, less glassy with unshed tears. "You should know better than anyone that every second counts right now, and Deku needed a boot to the damn head to remind his distracted ass to—"
-wait. God fucking dammit. That's it, isn't it?
Turns out, he's the shithead. Uraraka's pushing The Deku Button on purpose, to pick a fight, because this is what she needs: not flaccid reassurance or focus-boosting peace and quiet, but a distraction, something to keep the fire lit under her, and take her mind off what has to be unreal, unimaginable pain.
Fighting, he can do. Gladly, since it's what he's best at, and with fucking aplomb.
Game on, Sweetness.
*kukan: interval/space (as in spatial); shi: master; kukan shi: literally, 'master of space' (so fucking metal yessss)
**daifuku – a kind of mochi with a sweets-filled center; mochi isn't necessarily sweet, but daifuku –by my understanding, at least—almost always is. uraraka would be Scandalized to learn that camie let perfectly good mochi go to waste.
other notes:
-shiva and her 'diamond dust' quirk are absolutely a reference to the FF franchise summon.
-also: no, bakugou being on first name basis with camie was NOT A MISTAKE, mwahaha. i wonder how that happened?
-fun fact: the international space station is actually slated to be decommissioned in 2024, and is indeed destined (then, or later) for a watery grave in the incredibly bleak-sounding 'Oceanic Pole of Inaccessibility'
-the next chapter will be near completely kacchako. the fighting's over, the building's (more or less) secure, and the only thing bakugou and uraraka have to do right now is /wait/, all by themselves, for several minutes, on a no doubt v v cold rooftop (and let's not forget, bakugou's still soaked from his previous encounter with Water Teen), basically *right after* bakugou's finally admitted to himself that he wants a piece of uraraka's action. I WONDER WHAT WILL HAPPEN in the two or three minutes they'll have before the cavalry arrives...!
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[next chapter: smooches and stripping.]