TW:/ Physical violence, blood, panic attacks, Kidnapping of a minor part 2 electric boogaloo


"Where the fuck have you been , Deku ?!"

Izuku freezes like a deer in headlights. Why is Kacchan here, of all places? In a run-down part of Japan that definitely isn't Musutafu. Izuku hasn't seen him since the day his childhood friend told him to kill himself. Since the day both of them had almost died. The strawberry milkshake slips from Izuku's hand. Thick pink liquid splatters all over the floor and the legs of the oversized sweatpants Izuku is wearing.

Kacchan definitely recognizes him. There's no way he doesn't. Kacchan has grown taller and broader but Izuku could pick his face out of a crowd just as easily as Kacchan could pick out his. There's no doubt about it.

Oh no. Oh god. Shigaraki's only rule is that he isn't allowed to talk to anyone while he is out. Izuku certainly wouldn't put it past him to have a secret microphone installed in his collar. Or to be following Izuku like he used to, watching from the shadows. He will know. He always knows. He will hurt Mom. He will hurt Kacchan .

Izuku grabs a fistful of napkins and drops to his knees, quickly sopping up the mess on the floor with shaking hands as his mind races. Kacchan's scuffed boots stomp into the mess, splashing melted milkshake on Izuku's sweater, and Izuku lowers his head further to avoid his childhood friend's accusatory glare.

Suddenly there is a fist on the back of his sweater pulling him to his feet and Izuku stumbles into Kacchan's chest before he can catch himself. Rough hands grab his shoulders and force him back until Kacchan can look at his face. His angry sneer dulls a bit when he takes in Izuku's black eye and the way he stands to keep his weight off of his twisted ankle.

"The fuck happened to you, Deku?!" He bites out, shaking Izuku's shoulders a bit too hard for it to be out of concern, "Auntie Inko was freaked out enough to call the old hag after two years of dodging her fuckin' calls!"

Izuku clamps his mouth shut, biting down on his tongue hard enough he tastes metal. He wants to collapse into Kacchan's arms and scream and beg for his help. He wants to go home. He wants to see Mom. It doesn't matter that Kacchan has never been anything but an antagonist in his life, despite Izuku's best efforts. It doesn't matter that Izuku doubts Kacchan would go even a hair of his way for a Deku like him. Right here, right now, the palms heating his skin through the cotton of his sweater feel like salvation.

Heart hammering in his chest, Izuku blinks back tears and takes a slow step away. The hands fall off his shoulders, and Izuku grabs the paper takeout bag that had just been placed on the counter.

"I-You," Izuku stutters, keeping his gaze on the ground and away from red, red eyes that pierce right through him, "You have the w-wrong person. I have- I have to- t-to go. S-sorry, I- I have to."

Kacchan snarls and grabs for him again despite the cashier yelling at the two of them in the background but Izuku is faster. He sidesteps his childhood friend and kicks out his bad foot to send him sprawling on the floor like Shigaraki has done to Izuku a thousand times, ignoring the twinge of pain the movement causes. Kacchan hisses angrily and scrambles to his feet but Izuku is already halfway to the door and has disappeared down an alley before Kacchan even leaves the cafe.

He hides behind a dumpster, fat tears soaking into the material of Shigaraki's borrowed sweatpants as Izuku presses his face into his knees to suppress his sobs. He can hear Kacchan's angry screaming fading as his childhood friend searches for him, walking in the wrong direction. That was his chance. Fate. Kacchan is in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, and he had run away because he is too big of a coward to face the consequences of angering Shigaraki. He is such an idiot . Izuku feels dizzy as he remembers what he gave up his one single chance for. What he has to go back to. He wraps his arms around his knees tighter and cries harder.

Izuku manages to gather himself within a few minutes, well aware that he is running low on time. He has to get back to Shigaraki before his time limit is up. Before Shigaraki hurts his mom. Izuku pushes himself up onto shaky legs and limps back to his prison as quickly as he can, ignoring the fire in his ankle that is causing his vision to blot out with pain.

When he gets to the alley Shigaraki is not waiting for him outside the door. Izuku shifts his weight outside the locked door, wondering what he should do. Shigaraki always lets him in through the back. He's not sure he should go around the front, through the bar. He hasn't been allowed in there yet (except for the time he tried to run). Shifting the takeout bag in his arms, Izuku decides he's least likely to get into trouble if he just waits at the usual spot for Shigaraki to let him in. He sits on the step outside the door and does his best to regulate his breathing. He did the right thing. He can't get Kacchan involved, and he can't risk taking the time to explain when getting back to Shigaraki late could mean Mom getting hurt as punishment. It was the only way. No one else will get hurt this way. Just- just Izuku. Only Izuku.

Izuku shivers, hunching his shoulders against the wind. It's okay. He's- he'll be fine. He will find a way to escape. To get Kurogiri's quirk and escape without anyone getting hurt. To convince Shigaraki he doesn't have to continue down the path he is on. To bring his father to justice, for using his mother as an experiment and grooming his captor to be a puppet. To save everyone with a smile.

The door creaks open behind him, and Izuku tilts his head up to meet Shigaraki's burning gaze. His scarred mouth is twisted into a frown and there is bright red blood speckling his cheek.

"A-are you," Izuku says automatically, voice still a little raspy from disuse, "are you o-okay?"

Shigaraki sneers angrily and Izuku shrinks away from him, holding out the takeout bag instead. Izuku has learned that Shigaraki's moods flip on a dime, and also that his current mood is one of the worst. His current mood usually leads to Izuku getting beaten into unconsciousness.

His captor tears the paper bag from his grasp but makes no move to let him inside. Uneven nails scratch trenches into the side of his neck, blood beading up as he opens the scabs there. Shigaraki narrows his eyes at him before the hand on his neck is snaking out to wrap tightly around a fistful of green curls. Izuku hisses in pain as his heart sinks to his feet. He knows. He knows .

"What happened while you were out, Izuku?" Shigaraki asks evenly, in complete contrast to the fist yanking his head back until Izuku's neck is bared to the older man, his captor's other hand coming up to scratch the other side of his neck irritably. He's not going to get away with outright lying, but maybe he can keep Kacchan out of it. Shigaraki's so close that his breath ghosts across Izuku's face, his chapped lips brushing against Izuku's as he squirms in his captor's grip.

"N-Nothing," Izuku gasps, one of his hands automatically wrapping around Shigaraki's wrist to alleviate the pressure on his scalp, "Nothing. I- S-Someone, someone m-mistook me for-for a f-friend I th-think. I was- I was s-surprised so I-I dropped my m-milkshake and had to-to clean it up. I came- I c-came back and- and I didn't- I didn't t-tell. S-sorry I'm- Sorry I'm late, Shig-Shigaraki-san."

The grip on Izuku's hair tightens as he talks until his entire scalp burns with the pain of it and tears are running down his cheeks as he chokes on his apology to Shigaraki. His captor's face twists in rage and he drags Izuku inside by the hair, Izuku's shaking hands still gripping tight onto Shigaraki's wrist, and slams the door behind them. Izuku sobs and does his best to not trip over his feet as Shigaraki hauls him through the house. They're going the wrong way. Izuku's blood pounds in his ears as Shigaraki drags him down a hall and into the bar, where he throws Izuku to the floor. Izuku flails and catches himself badly, crying out as he lands on his wrist wrong.

Izuku pushes himself up shakily and his blood freezes to ice in his veins when he takes in his surroundings. Kacchan is tied to a chair, unconscious and bloody, with quirk suppressing cuffs binding his wrists. He's too still. Too pale. Too silent. Kacchan isn't supposed to be quiet like that. He's supposed to be screaming and snarling and overwhelming brash confidence. It's Izuku's fault. It's Izuku's fault. He couldn't save him.

Kurogiri is standing behind Kacchan with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, looking as casual about it as someone without a face can look. Like it's just another regular Saturday morning for him. Izuku wonders, rather hysterically, how Kurogiri is going to eat the egg and sausage breakfast Izuku bought for him at the cafe.

"Wh-wh…" Izuku's tongue feels too big for his mouth, his throat too dry to force the words out.

Shigaraki crouches down in front of him, the takeout bag gone, blood-red eyes leveling with Izuku's. "You know I hate it when you lie to me, Crybaby."

Izuku shakes his head, eyes pleading with Shigaraki even as his chest heaves with sobs. "I-I'm not. I'm not. I'm not."

Shigaraki slaps him across the face. "You're a filthy liar, Izuku. I know exactly who that is."

"No," Izuku blubbers, mind blanking out in his panic. "No, n-no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no ." He came back. He left Kacchan at the cafe. He did everything right. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Katsuki Bakugou," Shigaraki smiles as he puts his hands on his knees and pushes himself up to circle Kacchan's chair instead, and Izuku's heart might actually explode out of his chest this time, "The main instigator in your bullying at Aldera Middle School. The main reason you had to drop out. And he's the boy you nearly died trying to save . How stupid are you, Crybaby? Why do you let ungrateful NPCs like him walk all over you?"

Izuku can't breathe but he huffs out a hysterical laugh anyway. He doesn't have enough air in his lungs to point out the irony. He's suffocating on his own panic. Kacchan's eyes are blinking open, bleary and unfocused, and Izuku is pushing himself up on his feet before he can think to keep Shigaraki's attention on himself.

"P-Please- Please let him g-go, Shig-...T-Tomura-san, p-please. He's- H-he's unconscious, he h-hasn't seen the bar. I'll- I w-want to- I want to stay with y-you. Let's- Let's let him go and-and eat b-breakfast and play games like you- like you s-said." Izuku prays to God and Buddha and the Devil that Kacchan takes the hint and pretends to be knocked out and doesn't immediately start screaming his head off.

Shigaraki frowns at Izuku like he had chosen the wrong dialogue option, even as his cheeks flush pink at Izuku using his first name. "That's not right, Izuku," he drawls, pulling his two-fingered gloves off slowly, "I brought this scum here as a reward for you, you know. I was so happy when you chose me over your childhood friend, even if you lied about it. It's important to punish the people who hurt you, and I can't think of anyone better for you to start with. It's time you learn that lesson, Crybaby."

Kacchan chooses that moment to announce his consciousness, flailing in the chair as he tests the rope tying him to the chair and knocking Shigaraki's elbow with his forehead. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER ," he screams at Shigaraki, spittle flying from his mouth, and Izuku forgot how loud he was, "I'll fucking KILL YOU! Who the fuck do you think you are! Coming up behind me like that! What the fuck did you do to Deku, Crusty?! Huh !? Why the fuck does he have a tail?!"

"Shut your mouth, garbage NPC," Shigaraki sneers, and then he's grabbing one of Kacchan's hands with four fingers and twisting, twisting, twisting in entirely the wrong direction as the boy's face screws up in pain. Izuku jumps at the audible crack his wrist makes as Kacchan goes white as a sheet and falls silent. His eyes meet Izuku's, an angry accusation in his gaze. It's Izuku's fault. It's Izuku's fault. He has to save Kacchan.

Shigaraki cracks his knuckles, shaking out his hands. "This is all for you, Izuku," he says, and his voice is soft like he means it as he holds up his hand to hover over Kacchan's face, "You'll thank me one day."

" No ," Izuku blurts, stumbling forward and grabbing Shigaraki's arms, yanking that destructive palm away from his friend's fearful face, "No. No. I-..." It's a stupid plan. He has to do it. He has to. "I don't- I don't want you t-to hurt someone because of- b-because of me. I think- I w-want- P-please let me do it. I h-hate… hate him. I want- I want to do it."

"Well now," Shigaraki smiles big at him, his cracked lips pulling enough that they start to bleed, "My little Crybaby has leveled up. You're so cool, Izuku. Of course you can do it."

He kisses Izuku on the lips before stepping aside, and Izuku forces himself to walk forward on legs made of jello. Kacchan is glaring up at him, mouth twisted into an angry scowl. Izuku forces himself to meet his eyes. He looks up at Kurogiri, standing behind Kacchan's chair.

"I w-want," Izuku stutters, his stomach buzzing with nerves, "B-Bakugou, he- H-he always treated me like- like g-garbage because I was q-quirkless. I want- I w-want to do it with- with my quirk. I want to s-show him he's wrong about- about me."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Deku?" Kacchan snarls at him, fighting against his restraints. "Did you go nuts or something, nerd?"

"I want- I'll show you that I'm s-strong," He says to Kacchan, setting his mouth into a grim line. "P-please Tomura-san. Let me d-do it."

Shigaraki hums, caressing the back of Izuku's nape with long, cool fingers and raising goosebumps on his neck. He leans in close, pressing his lips to Izuku's ear as he holds his thumb to the back of Izuku's collar. "You should do what you want to do, Crybaby. That's the lesson I'm trying to teach you. You can do anything you want as long as you're with me."

The collar around his neck beeps as the quirk suppressor powers off. Izuku steps away from Shigaraki to stand directly in front of his childhood friend. His bully. His tormentor. Izuku squares his shoulders, steeling himself before drawing his arm back and punching Kacchan square in the jaw.

Kacchan's head snaps back from the force of it, and he must have bitten his lip because blood leaks from the corner of his mouth. He growls at Izuku, muscles straining against his restraints. He spits a glob of blood at Izuku's feet.

"That the best you got, Deku?!" Kacchan mocks him, familiar face twisted in rage, "Punching a guy tied to a fucking chair? You cowardly fuck!"

"You-" Izuku's eyes prick with tears as his voice breaks, "You shouldn't have- you shouldn't have told me to jump off the r-roof, Kacchan."

Kacchan scoffs, refusing to meet his gaze. Shigaraki is watching the scene like it is a particularly entertaining play.

Izuku takes a deep breath, feeling for a power he hasn't yet used. He steps even closer to Kacchan; so close their shins are brushing. Izuku puts a hand on Kacchan's shoulder, bracing his weight on it.

"I'm going- I'm going to show you how s-strong I am now, Kacchan."

Izuku's eyes flick up to meet Shigaraki's.

"I'm- I- I really am sorry, Tomura-san," Izuku says. He lifts up his hand and touches it to the metal collar around his neck.

All five fingers.