They walked in silence for a while, the crunch of gravel and swish of overgrown grass the only sounds they heard. The moonlight was unusually bright, and illuminated Senji's pale skin and scaled tail just enough to give her a sort of glow. She looked up at the stars as they came to the top of a hill, then down at the glittering lights of the sleepy coastal town below.

"So? You gonna spill or am I supposed to guess the questions?," Bakugo was fed up with the wait at this point, but the mood didn't fit with his angry outbursts so he spoke in a more neutral tone.

"You asked who was in my phone? I'll answer, but it'll give you more questions. And you can't tell anyone. Got it?," Senji replied without looking at him. She knelt down into the grass, forming her wings and stretching them out behind her. Bakugo thought for a moment, then sat down beside her.

"Alright. So what's goin' on," he agreed to her terms, though their cryptic nature didn't gel with him too well. Senji pulled something out of her pocket, which shone bright in the moonlight. A keychain. He'd seen it before, and the crimson feather that hung from it. She studied it in her hand for a minute before holding it up for him to see.

"This ain't regular merch y'know. Feather's real and everything," she spoke in an even more unclear way.

"Real? What kinda bird has feathers like tha-"

Realization hit him like a truck hits a pothole. There was a pro hero with big, crimson wings. One with blonde hair, an annoyingly smug and casual attitude. They were currently number three on the hero billboard charts, and a cartoonish version of their goofy grin was etched into the keychain charm held between Senji's fingers.

"Hah?"

"Hawks. That's who I'm talking to," she said it so matter of factly. Like it was normal to just casually talk to a pro hero so often. Words couldn't describe the incredulous face Bakugo just made at her, nor his absolute confusion at why she thought he'd buy that.

"You just have his number. And talk to him almost daily. Huh?"

"I mean, you talk to All Might a lot. We all do, and Izuku-wait. Maybe I'm not supposed to say that part," Senji caught herself about to reveal some pretty deep and dangerous information about the relationship between All Might and her other classmate.

"Deku what?," Bakugo of course didn't miss that, and his tone grew more irritated.

"Uh, shit. Izuku talks to him a lot, on the phone. For his training and whatever?," Senji's face contorted with the sudden stress she felt.

"Fuckin'...whatever. What're you and the big bird talkin' about?"

"Yeah, that's a fair question. Needs a bit of explanation though," Senji returned the keychain to her pocket and tugged at a few hair strands. Bakugo had more questions, but could tell she was mulling things over and waited somewhat patiently.

"So, y'know how there's like. The Hero Public Safety Commission?"

He nodded.

"Right. So, um, let's say there's another…branch? Of that. They handle stuff that can't be public or shown to anyone. Big secret stuff. They sometimes train people to do that type of work, in a special program they have," Senji dropped a ton of information there, but kept it painfully vague too.

"Where is this going?," Bakugo cocked a brow.

"Well..y'know how the League was super familiar with me. Back in Kamino?," she continued. Her expression darkened, eyes clouded. She looked out over the city, or past it to the glittering waves of the sea.

"Right," he recalled that, in uncomfortable detail. Minus the part where he was unconscious, and he could only remember a faint prick on his neck before everything went dark. Thinking about it brought back another wave of dark emotions tied to it, and his fingers brushed his neck without him realizing it.

"I was supposed to be keeping an eye on them. Earning their trust, to find their boss. I technically got the info, but I fucked it up hard," Senji's voice wavered at the end, trailing off. Bakugo's eyes widened in understanding, and he watched her pick at the grass in front of her knees. Her tail laid flat on the ground, no movement whatsoever.

"Sorry," Bakugo apologized softly. Silence fell over the pair for a good while, each one processing the dredged up feelings of that night.

"Wasn't your fault," Senji finally spoke up again, shaking her head. Bakugo ground his teeth, tired of hearing that from her when she clearly felt responsible for it herself.

"Wasn't yours either," he spat out. Senji looked at him for the first time since their conversation started, clearly shaken by those words. Bakugo flinched, his lips curling on one side under her stare as she studied his eyes. Then she smiled, a soft and sad one, and turned her gaze back to the grass she was mercilessly plucking up.

"He said the same thing. Hawks did. He's supposed to be taking over that job now. That's why we're talking a bunch, to trade intel," she finally got to the answer he was waiting for. The answer he didn't know he was expecting, but got anyway. Senji gave him some time to process all that, eventually pulling her knees up to her chin.

"Hey," Bakugo whispered. His voice was much closer than she expected, so Senji flinched. He was right behind her, and snaked his arms around her waist to pull her into another sudden embrace. She rolled with it, unsure but also too surprised to really fight it. He pulled her back, until her shoulders rested on his chest and his legs guarded her sides.

"Katsuki?"

"Whatever happened with all that. I don't think I get all of it, but…it's not your fault. What happened then. Ain't right that you were held responsible for something like that, either."

"I.."

His words weren't incorrect. It wasn't right, or fair. The hand she was dealt, or the way things turned out. It wasn't fair that her classmates trusted her so blindly, despite her involvement in their potential ends on multiple occasions. It wasn't right that an entire city was reduced to rubble for some old beef between a hero and a villain. It wasn't right that All Might was forced into retirement, or that Izuku was being made to bear the weight of the ex-pro's ambitions and expectations. Senji wasn't blind to the injustices wrought by the justice system. She knew all along, even if her moral compass was skewed already due to her previous circumstances. But hearing it said aloud, by someone else. It struck a chord she hadn't expected, and tears started to leak from her eyes while she lay there in an unfairly warm and gentle embrace.