The Hero Sense can NOT sense threats to self

It was always during a fucking outing.

A string of curses under his breath, Bakugou pushed through the crowds of people flooding the streets, bright, flashy lights and the overwhelming sounds of cheering and amplified music reverberating against his skull. The evening sun was bathing the city in an orangish hue, bright pink clouds decorating the sky and clashing with the massive, haughty but genuine display of admiration.

It was a tight squeeze, pressing through the throngs of people, but Bakugou honestly wasn't surprised by the sheer number of people and heroes present, considering that this whole massive shindig was in All Might's honor. The city of Musutafu had been planning this for months, an entire day for the city to celebrate All Might's service as a hero, with celebrity performances, parades, convention panel locations, and even a whole ass carnival setup with rides, games, and everything. There was talk of establishing an official national holiday, but nothing was confirmed as of yet.

Bakugou bit his lip, swallowing the whispering thoughts of guilt and self-loathing that constantly reminded him that he'd still be out there being the number one hero, saving lives and winning battles, if only Bakugou had just been a little bit stronger. A little bit faster. A little bit smarter.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time for this.

Now was the time to find where his damn idiot squad disappeared to.

His class, as well as several other U.A. students, had all been invited to attend the event, some far more excited than others. Bakugou wasn't even sure why he agreed to go, but here he was, and it was certainly too late to back out now. Deku had been the most enthusiastic about it, talking so fast that not even Bakugou, accustom to his muttering spells, could understand a single word he was saying and so much that he actually almost passed out a few times. He, Round Face, Uniform, and the idiot quartet could be found throughout that morning parading around the school cheering and shrieking about it to the point that even Four Eyes straight up just told them to kindly shut up.

He gained a whole new respect for Four Eyes that afternoon, as none of them dared to make another peep until they were leaving for the event.

Aizawa, meanwhile, had been heavily against the whole thing from the beginning, considering just how much trouble his class attracted, whether they meant to or not. He didn't know what higher up had overruled him, but their homeroom teacher still wasn't pleased in the slightest.

We can't keep living in fear, they'd said. If we hide in the shadows, then the villains might as well have won.

So what? Just throw all their little lambs to the slaughter? Was that how they were gonna maintain hero society?

Idiots, all of them.

Not that Bakugou was particularly afraid or anything, but not everyone was as amazing as he was. Not everyone could defend themselves. Not everyone could get out of a villain attack scot-free or wait it out long enough for their buddies to come find them. Not everyone could fight off six high-class villains while malnourished and make it out mostly unharmed.

Not everyone can afford to not be more careful.

And if something happens, it's gonna be on U.A.'s head. It's gonna be on hero society's head.

Just paint the big red target a brighter shade and add some pretty neon lights. Yeah, that'll do 'em. Morons.

Needless to say, for the longest time, wherever Bakugou looked, usually, he could spot a glimpse of the underground hero trailing them, like some weird game of Where's Waldo. Bakugou would never admit it out loud, but he actually really didn't mind Aizawa following them around. It was probably for the better.

He couldn't see him right now, but hopefully, he was still keeping a close eye on the other troublemakers that made up his class.

The crowds cheered, music wafting through the air like a strong, acrid aroma, and Bakugou could do nothing but rub his temples in irritation as he pushed forward, not caring who he ended up shoving out of the way. He didn't feel like anything was off, but that didn't mean that his idiot friends weren't up to something stupid or already found themselves in a dumb situation that only they could possibly manage to achieve.

The only saving grace for Bakugou's sanity that evening had been that Earlobes, Ponytail, and the Animal Whisperer had decided to follow them around as well as they all explored the carnival, giving him some much needed back up from a group of mostly sane individuals to balance out his friends' innate stupidity. Kaminari somehow managed to pass out on a giant tilt-a-whirl ride, forcing Sero to cling to him for the remainder of it and haul him off, leaving Whisperer to lug him around like a ragdoll for a while. Meanwhile, when they came across a no-quirks strength test, Kirishima actually managed to break it. As badass as it was, he was pretty sure the redhead was banned from the rest of those types of games after that.

When they got to the ferris wheel, Bakugou had opted out of it, as he really didn't feel like sitting around on something so slow, squished between a bunch of overgrown screaming toddlers while suspended several hundred feet in the air. Of course, he might have just dealt with it, had he known that Ashido was going to try to kill him, dropping her weirdly heavy handbag while their car was at the very top of the wheel, which nearly beamed him in the head. He bought a snow cone just so he could shove it in her face once they got off the ride.

Then again, to be fair to them, it wasn't like he hadn't caused a little mayhem himself, he and Sero getting into a heated competition over one of the shooting games, which somehow escalated to quirk use. They were both definitely banned from the rest of those games, and blacklisted by a couple other nearby venues that saw the whole fiasco.

Either way, the point was that it only took them at least five seconds of being unsupervised to get into trouble (yes, he's counted), and Bakugou had gotten separated from them several minutes ago.

He's amazed that nothing's exploded yet. He's not the only living weapon of mass destruction among them, after all. Maybe, if he was lucky, their other three classmates were still with them.

Finally finding a break in the crowd, Bakugou paused to catch his breath, already thoroughly done with this little excursion. From here, resting comfortably against the outside wall of a hero merch shop, Bakugou could make out a few restaurants and cafes dotting the streets, most of them full to the brim with customers thanks to the large event venue bringing in people from across the country.

As his eyes scanned the surrounding areas, Bakugou suddenly realized where he was, maybe only a few streets down at most from the Shinta's Indian Diner. The last time he'd seen those guys was when he'd spontaneously decided to take Kirishima, Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero out to eat and introduced them to the odd couple. He would take it to his fucking grave, so help him if he ever admitted it to anyone, but he really did enjoy himself that night.

Dammit, he really was going soft these days. Fuck his life.

Though, to be fair, he would still find himself cackling at the memory of Dunce Face trying to eat a whole spoonful of his Phaal curry and promptly short-circuiting. That was a memory that he would very readily share, much to the electric blonde's disdain.

Either way, that didn't mean that it didn't grate on his nerves whenever the couple would tell his parents about the experience, thus giving his mom ammunition to tease him with, or how they would nag him about inviting his whole damn class to dinner sometime, as if that could end in any way other than an absolute catastrophe.

He eyed the ebbing crowds with a cocked brow, noting the packed storefronts and cafes with no seating room left to offer, and despite his best efforts, he found a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

Oh, he'll bring his whole class, alright. Let's see if they can squeeze a full twenty rambunctious teenagers that pro heroes can barely keep under control into their tiny ass diner with this many people buzzing around. See how they like it when their entire establishment burns to the ground because of the fucking hex that some jackass surely put over their class.

That'll teach 'em.

It was clear that he wasn't gonna find the idiots by just running around blindly, as they were probably all the way on the other side of town by now, so with a roll of his eyes and frustration pooling in the pit of his stomach, he yanked his phone out of his pocket, somehow left on silent, and started walking again, now heading in the general direction of the Shinta's diner. At least that was a familiar landmark. Plus, if he was gonna teach those schmucks a lesson about biting off more than they could chew, then they'd be rendezvousing there anyway. Who knows, he might even be able to pull a Todoroki and take from the old hag's bank account to pay for the whole thing, his treat.

That sounded like some pretty sweet payback to him.

Thinking back, as the screen lit up his face, the sudden onslaught of text messages and missed calls that overtook his phone should have tipped him off instantly.

Brows furrowed in confusion, his steps faltered slightly, scrolling through what was literally dozens upon dozens of texts from a very specific few people that had every alarm suddenly buzzing in his head.

7:46PM

Red Riot: Hey man! Where are you right now? We somehow lost you and we were hoping to find someplace to meet back up. It's not the squad without you!

7:48PM

Deku: Hey Kacchan, sorry to bother you, but are you and Kirishima feeling at all fidgety right now? It started about a minute or two ago for me, but it's starting to get really strong and I'm getting worried. Thanks for the help!

7:48PM

Icyhot: Midoriya and I are experiencing some rather strong hero sense reactions and are wondering if you or Kirishima are feeling anything similar. It might be best to stay on your guard.

7:49PM

Red Riot: Dude where the fuck are you!? Something is wrong and we can't find you anywhere!

7:49PM

Red Riot: Please respond

7:49PM

Icyhot: Midoriya is extremely sick right now and Kirishima just informed us that the two of you were separated. Where are you right now and where could we possibly meet up?

7:50PM

Red Riot: WHERE ARE YOU

Suddenly on guard, Bakugou took in his surroundings slowly, watching every single action or look that could possibly be interpreted as suspicious or threatening. He didn't need a magic bullshit prediction ability to take the hint and know that something was wrong. It wasn't exactly rocket science.

Nothing jumped out at him. There was nothing that he could see from here that pulled for his attention or sounded any alarms in his head, but that didn't stop the pins and needles running through his body. That didn't calm the chills shooting through his arms and making every hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Because there were eyes on him.

Bakugou's breath hitched, head shooting back up and back pressed against the wall. The throngs had masked it before, but now that it had been brought to his attention, all at once, he was completely aware that there were eyes on him.

He was being watched.

Suddenly, staying in one spot for too long almost sounded suicidal. Not wanting to waste time in responding to every single message thrown at him, Bakugou decided to be the responsible example for once in his damn life and do the one thing that none of his classmates ever seemed to think of doing first at any point in their high school lives.

He called Aizawa.

Each ring set his nerves on fire as he finally pushed away from the wall, his steps slowly accelerating with his rapidly beating heart. He wanted to fight, and he knew he could, but there were too many people. Too much collateral. Someone would be caught in the crossfire. People would die.

Because he doesn't know who's watching him. He doesn't know what he's up against.

He told himself that it was because it was the most convenient course of action. He told himself that he was just being logical about things. That he just wasn't in the mood to deal with this shit.

But there were images of purple mist that appeared in his mind's eyes, blue flames reducing a forest to ashes, a scarred hand gripping the back of his neck.

"No problem."

"Which one of you is this?" a tired voice drawled out against his ear, and Bakugou released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. "I've told you all to only call me in an emergency."

"Aizawa, it's me," Bakugou hissed, and even on the other side of the phone, he could practically feel his teacher's posture straighten. He might have even heard a few bones crack through the speaker. "And I know that."

"Bakugou?" There was a commotion happening in the background, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. He was more concerned about what was going on directly around him, anyway. "What's this about? Is something wrong?"

Bakugou took a deep breath, a headache already throbbing against his temples. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. "I- Fuck, listen, nothing's happened yet, but I got separated from the others and Deku and Icyhot are freaking the fuck out and I don't feel any-"

"Kid," Aizawa interrupted sternly. "Get to the point, kid."

A pause. "...I think I'm being followed."

Aizawa went terrifyingly silent, and whatever commotion had been happening around his homeroom teacher suddenly intensified. A distant voice, sounding suspiciously like All Might, was yelling something, and Bakugou wondered if he was feeling whatever Deku and Icyhot were feeling; Whatever Kirishima was feeling.

"Bakugou," Aizawa's voice suddenly cut through his thoughts. "Listen to me. I am on my way and will be there as quickly as possible regardless of your answer, but are you absolutely certain that someone is after you?"

His eyes flew up in response, looking over his shoulder and moving meticulously over the throngs of people flowing around him. He couldn't see anything that immediately pulled his attention, but there was now this ebbing feeling of paranoia that had rooted itself in his mind, a winding, coiling feeling wrapping itself around his body like a spring. Fight or flight was speeding up his heartrate and every instinct he had, the instincts he'd always had since he was a child, before this hero sense bullshit ever even became a thing, was screaming at him.

It was almost like the hero sense. It was similar in many ways, from the sudden feeling of anxiety to the slowly building dosage of adrenaline pumping through his veins. And yet, at the same time, it was so fundamentally different.

There was no certainty. There was no sureness that he was right. There was no clear course of action.

He didn't know what to do. What the hell was he supposed to do?

There were eyes on him.

"Yeah." he finally said, chills running along his skin. "Shit, yeah, I am."

"Okay." Aizawa breathed. "Okay, we've pinged your phone's location. I want you to turn on your hero app's distress signal, and do not end the call. Do you understand me?"

Bakugou grimaced, fumbling with his phone in search of the stupid app. He hated using that thing, but at this stage of the game, he couldn't deny how powerful of a tool it was for him in particular. Any emergency call or alarm from him was taken with upmost seriousness and urgency from his classmates, and for that, he was grateful.

It didn't make using it feel any less humiliating, though.

It was like a strike of lightning, the sudden realization that he wasn't paying enough attention to his surroundings. It was like a switch flipped in his brain, like how he'd notice that Kaminari wasn't paying attention during tutoring or that Kirishima fell asleep in class, and he'd forcefully pull them back into awareness.

He was being watched.

"Bakugou," Aizawa repeated. There was wind blasting against the receiver. "Do you understand me?"

He never got a chance to respond.

He barely registered the hand suddenly appearing in front of his face. Everything blurred together, it happened so fast, and he didn't even realize that the hand was now clamped over his mouth until he'd already been dragged into the alleyway, his heated palms clawing wildly against the arm wrapped around his neck. His phone had clattered to the ground, lost and completely forgotten in his struggle to escape his attacker's hold.

Fuck, no! No!

Not again!

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, another figure sliding into his line of sight and more hands reaching out for him. Eyes wide and blazing, he kicked out, his foot solidly connecting with someone's chin and throwing them to the ground. There was a satisfying thud and a cry of pain, followed by strings of curses and the grip around his neck tightening painfully. At this point, still thrashing wildly in the unknown villain's hold, Bakugou realized that he had no idea how many enemies were in here with him.

In the back of his overactive mind, just barely toeing the line of panic, he registered that he was suddenly ridiculously thirsty, his skin painfully dry and hands only offering a spray of sparks in his defense. He'd be more worried about what this guy's quirk was, but right now, he was far more concerned about the tight pressure against his throat threatening to forcefully drag him into unconsciousness.

Nobody knew where he was. No plot-convenient trackers to lead his moronic classmates straight to him this time, at least not without his phone, wherever the fuck it was now. Whatever happened from this point on, if he passed out, he was screwed.

"Shit, kid really is a fighter!"

"How the hell is he still conscious?!"

"Quick! Tie his hands!"

The poor sod who grabbed his arms was met with another spray of sparks and a palm sitting at a comfortable several hundred degrees pressing into their skin like a branding iron. The fucker leaped back with a shout, and with a sudden burst of energy, Bakugou threw one of his hands back, glowing bright yellow and almost physically boiling, and grabbed for his attempted captor's face. At the same time that his fingers blindly wrapped around the villain's head, his other was yanking at the hand holding his mouth shut, budging it just enough to open his jaw and bite down hard enough to break skin.

The villain screamed, the sound of sizzling skin and the taste of blood making Bakugou's stomach roll uncomfortably, but his brain was now running on pure survival instinct and suddenly, the only thing that mattered was the grip on him loosening. With strength that even impressed himself, he wrenched himself out of his attacker's hold.

His victory was entirely momentary.

He suddenly noticed how tired he was, his mouth painfully dry and itchy. The world spun as soon as his feet hit the ground, and for a moment, his knees buckled and nearly gave out from under him. His frazzled brain grasped for answers, for some kind of explanation as to what these asshats had already done to him, but maneuvering around his own muddled thoughts was like trying to dig through sludge.

Fuck, of course that's where his brain immediately goes.

He'd barely taken another step before there was a hand digging into his hair, the only sound escaping his mouth being a strangled gasp as he was shoved face first into the ground. He grit his teeth at the bursts of throbbing pain blooming in his head, the weight of the hand in his hair pushing him down leaving him seeing stars. He can't tell if they broke his nose or not, but he'll be impressed if they didn't, inwardly cringing at the warm liquid now running down his face.

Even in his peripheral vision, he could barely make out any light, the sounds of music and chatter slightly dimmed, and Bakugou realized that he had no clue how far this alleyway went and how deep into it they'd dragged him, far more worried about escaping the villain's grasp than anything. He mentally kicked himself for being so shortsighted and panicking like an inexperienced child as he felt the villains forcefully roll him over, flailing against their holds as some kind of oxygen mask was shoved onto his face.

And just like that, he was back in that forest, back in that clearing, back in that portal with a searing hot hand clawing into his nape and yanking him back into a misty darkness and a dimly-lit bar.

He would never, ever in his fucking life admit it out loud, but it was at this point where he acknowledged the fact that he was terrified.

"Let go of me, you shitheads!" he screamed behind the mask, voice muffled as he struggled against the many hands pinning him to the ground and the rope being coiled around his wrists. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!"

He could already feel the effects of whatever they were forcing through his lungs, his head going light and his eyelids growing unbearably heavy. For a moment, he wondered if he was breathing at all, coughing harshly as the villains' incessant yapping and the faraway sounds of civilization became nothing more than a muddied droning.

"B- Bastards!" he wheezed out, wrapped in a blanket of numbness and sinking into a dull, quiet abyss. "G-Get off a...off of me...you f...fu...cking..."

The last thing he saw was the shadows towering over him before blackness claimed him.