The metallic tang of sweat and blood pervaded the air of the underground fighting ring, an olfactory symphony that brought Izuku back to memories best left forgotten. He could hear the distant hum of the crowd even from the locker room as he wrapped his knuckles tightly. The rough texture of the bandages pressed against his skin, grounding him against the trembling in his hands—not from fear of the fight, but of its dire implications.
The weight of the situation made his breaths come sharper, shallower. The morality of the impending brawl gnawed at his insides. Yet with each step that brought him closer to the arena, he felt the electrical charge of the audience's bloodlust. The cacophony of bets being placed was nearly deafening, with voices rising to support their favored fighters.
Izuku's green eyes darted upwards, catching fleeting glimpses through the smoky haze of the dim lighting. There, framed against the dim glow, stood three figures: Katsuki, his face a mask of tension; Eri, her tiny fingers wrapped around the railing; and the ever-ominous silhouette of Tomura. Katsuki's gaze was a tangible weight, a mix of worry and silent encouragement. Eri's unwavering faith was clear even from this distance, but it was Tomura's unreadable stare that sent a shiver down his spine.
Izuku's footfalls echoed hollowly as he stepped onto the cold, gritty floor of the cage, a chilling reminder of past duels. The crowd's roars surged, cresting with a unified chant of "Bunny!" His moniker, once a source of pride, now felt like a heavy chain, pulling him back into this world of violence.
Opposite him, the hulking shadow of his adversary loomed large. The man seemed more a force of nature than a human, muscles carved from battles and grueling training. Tattoos adorned his form, each a testament to victories and perhaps even defeats. The most striking was the serpent, which seemed almost animated as it wound around his torso, its head poised menacingly on his biceps. The man's eyes, dark and unyielding, locked onto Izuku's, brimming with the thrill of challenge.
"So, you're the famed Bunny," the brute sneered, every word dripping with derision. "Heard you hopped out of the ring for good. I've been itching to crush you under my feet, and it seems today's my lucky day."
Breathing steadily, Izuku tried to push aside the taunting, focusing instead on the fight ahead. He knew this giant wanted more than a win; he wanted to prove who was the real champion.
The bell's clang heralded the start. Izuku was fluid, weaving around the cage, evading the brute's powerful swings. But a sudden, treacherous spit aimed at his eyes momentarily blurred his vision. It granted his opponent a golden opportunity to deliver a blow to Izuku's side. The crowd gasped collectively, and even from here, Izuku thought he heard a stifled cry from Katsuki.
His adversary laughed, voice dripping with mockery. "Thought you'd be tougher, Bunny. Maybe legends fade after all."
Recovering swiftly, Izuku used the momentum to launch a fierce kick, catching the giant off-guard. Their dance was raw and relentless, a deadly ballet of power against agility, each fighter's resolve tested with every exchanged blow.
From the corner of his eye, Izuku saw Tomura lean forward, a smirk playing on his lips. The stakes had never felt higher.
Tension crackled in the air. Both fighters, slick with sweat and smeared with blood, craved victory. For Izuku, however, this wasn't a test of pride; it was a desperate dance between survival and his haunting morals.
Seizing a fleeting lapse in his opponent's defense, Izuku unleashed a flurry of punches, each more rapid and ferocious than the last. But the behemoth swiftly retaliated. With a swift move, he ensnared Izuku in a vice-like grip, their muscles straining in a fierce struggle for dominance.
Izuku gasped for air as the pressure tightened around his torso, stars pricking at the edges of his vision. The crowd's cheers seemed to dim, replaced by the pounding in his ears and the fiery pain of the giant's grasp. It was clear he was losing ground.
Desperation lent Izuku strength. He landed a sharp elbow to his opponent's side, causing the behemoth to stagger back momentarily. But the giant was relentless. With a roar, he charged, driving Izuku towards the cage wall.
Pinned, with little room to maneuver and the crushing weight of his opponent bearing down on him, things seemed bleak for Izuku. His thoughts raced—of Katsuki, Eri, and the consequences of his potential defeat.
It was then that Izuku found an opening. As the behemoth reared his fist for a finishing blow, Izuku ducked and sidestepped, using the giant's own momentum against him. The behemoth collided heavily with the cage, disoriented.
Seizing the moment, Izuku launched a ferocious roundhouse kick, connecting with his opponent's temple. The giant wobbled, eyes glazed. One final powerful uppercut from Izuku, and the behemoth crashed to the ground, unconscious.
Though the opponent was down, there was still a flicker of movement. A grunt, a small twitch. To Izuku, in that high-adrenaline state, it seemed like a threat. He lunged forward, pinning the giant down with a forceful kick, straddling him. His fists flew, each punch powered by fear, anger, and the primal instinct to survive.
The audience's roars, once muffled, surged in volume, their bloodlust feeding into Izuku's frenzy. The chorus of voices screamed for an end, for finality. Every blow he delivered was a betrayal of the promise he made to himself, and yet he couldn't stop. His mind was a tempest, but amidst the storm was a distant cry for restraint, growing louder and more desperate with every passing second.
The barrage of punches from Izuku was unrelenting. Every blow he delivered echoed his internal turmoil, a manifestation of the battle between the promise he had made to himself and the primal, desperate need to ensure his own survival.
As the audience's bloodthirsty roars grew louder, urging him to deliver the final blow, Izuku felt a jarring disconnect between his actions and his consciousness. It was as if he was watching himself from afar, horrified yet unable to intervene.
Suddenly, the sensation of striking, unresisting flesh penetrated the haze of his mind. His opponent wasn't fighting back, wasn't even moving. A sharp, internal scream of horror pierced through the noise of the crowd and Izuku's own chaotic thoughts. It was enough to make him jerk away as if it had electrocuted him.
Staring down at his hands, smeared in blood and trembling uncontrollably, the gravity of what he had nearly done slammed into him. He felt exposed, raw, his darkest tendencies laid bare for all to witness.
Medical staff hurried into the ring, communicating in hushed, quick tones as they checked the fallen fighter. Izuku caught only snippets of their conversation: "... pulse is weak... but he's still alive."
The realization hit him like a punch. The man beneath him was still breathing. While the crowd cheered on, their bloodlust unsated, but their thirst for entertainment quenched, a torrent of emotions raged within Izuku. But the most overwhelming of them all was shame, intensified because among the crowd, Katsuki and Eri had seen the very worst of him.
The audience's frenzied cheers and chants of "Bunny" seemed to follow Izuku, even as he moved away from the noise and into the dimly lit corridor leading to the locker rooms. Each step felt heavy, each shadow on the walls a stark reminder of the choices he'd made and the life he had fallen into.
The cool concrete beneath him did little to cool the fiery turmoil in his chest. Those walls of the corridor, intermittently lit by overhead lights, seemed to trap and echo his every thought, making it impossible to escape from the mental replay of the fight.
With every echo of a distant cheer, his heart pounded anew. Not from physical exhaustion, but from the volatile cocktail of emotions bubbling within. The shame, guilt, and restless tension that seemed to crawl under his skin were almost too much to bear. Knowing Katsuki had seen him in that state, raw and unhinged, was almost unbearable. Katsuki, who had always represented law, order, and a world Izuku felt he could never truly be part of.
And then there was Eri. Sweet Eri knew far too much for someone so young. Her familiarity with this grim world made his heart clench, even more so given the recent events.
Entering the locker room, he was met with the pungent blend of sweat and antiseptics. He quickly stripped off his clothes, wanting to shed the reminders of the fight. The suit, a symbol of the organization he desperately wanted to break free from, lay there—a stark contrast to his battered and bruised skin. The cold spray of the shower provided a temporary relief, washing away the dirt but not the emotional residue.
While the warmth of Katsuki's touch was still fresh in his memory, juxtaposed against it was the chilling reality of the world he came from. Every droplet that ran down his back seemed to remind him of the vast chasm between them. Izuku had always wanted a simple life, a life with Eri, and maybe, if the fates allowed, with Katsuki. But now, more than ever, those dreams felt like a distant mirage.
Dressed again, his every movement was deliberate and on edge, as if expecting danger from every corner. The adrenaline from the fight had left him hyper-aware of his surroundings, every sound magnified, every movement noticeable.
"Midoriya," a staff member called out as he emerged from the locker room. "Bakugo and Shigaraki are in the Gold Lounge. They're waiting."
With a nod, Izuku prepared himself, not just for the inevitable encounter, but for the battle within — a war between the present reality and the shadows of the past.
The Gold Level lounge was a stark contrast to the grungy, dim arena. Illuminated with soft, golden hues and adorned with opulent furniture, it was a visual reminder of the twisted world Izuku found himself embroiled in.
Upon entering, his emerald eyes immediately scoured the area, seeking Eri's presence. When he didn't spot her, a surge of panic momentarily gripped him until he met Katsuki's ruby eyes. "Ochako and Iida picked Eri up," Katsuki informed him quietly. "She's resting now." Izuku, still caught in the aftermath of his earlier fight, nodded tersely in understanding.
"You alright?" Katsuki whispered, his eyes scanning Izuku's tense form.
Izuku took a deep breath, the ambiance of the room pressing down on him. "Just need a minute," he murmured.
Izuku knew it wouldn't go unnoticed by Katsuki, whose gaze lingered on him, clearly reading the tension that clung to Izuku like a second skin.
As they made their way through the crowd, various guests stopped Izuku to congratulate him, patting him on the back, or whispering praises into his ear. Katsuki, ever the actor, draped himself over Izuku as they settled on a plush couch. Izuku's fingers reflexively tightened around Katsuki's waist, a gesture not lost on the watching guests.
With Tomura elsewhere, Katsuki repositioned himself on Izuku's lap. The familiar warmth and scent of Katsuki were grounding amid the lounge's frenzy. Izuku endeavored to center on him, trying to shut out the ambient clamor and the penetrating stares.
Katsuki's voice dripped with casual curiosity as he addressed the encircling guests. "Heard there's a human auction going on. Think it's on this floor?"
Izuku said nothing, pressing his face into the crook of Katsuki's neck, letting the latter spearhead the conversation.
One opulently dressed guest, flaunting a pink pin, raised an eyebrow, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Human auctions are exclusive to Pink Level. Unless you're up for auction, you won't be getting in."
A familiar elder, one Izuku remembered all too well, tilted his head with a sly smile. "Considering a return to the block, Izuku? For nostalgia?"
His response was clipped, chilly. "Not interested."
The man's gaze shifted to Katsuki, blatantly assessing. "And what about your friend? Seems... worthy of a high price."
The weight of Izuku's hold on Katsuki intensified, his eyes flinty and unyielding. "No."
Yet, Katsuki, with an uncanny ability to diffuse tension, leaned closer to Izuku, playfully using his form as a barrier. "Apologies, gentlemen," he said, a voice dipped in a mock flirtation with a latent sharpness, "Seems I'm a commodity solely for him tonight. Guess I'm off the table."
Katsuki's playful demeanor belied the churning undercurrents in Izuku, the stormy depths barely concealed.
As Katsuki effortlessly engaged with a notably talkative guest, Izuku admired his finesse.
"Such a complex layout here," Katsuki mused, masterfully steering the conversation to his intent. "And the elevators leading to the Black Level?"
The guest leaned in, smugness clear in his eyes. "Those elevators are exclusive, requiring both card and biometric access. Few have the privilege."
A half-smile touched Izuku's lips, impressed by Katsuki's adept handling. But his satisfaction was short-lived. Tomura's distinct, grating laughter punctured the room's elegance, sending Izuku's pulse racing.
Sensing the urgency, Izuku acted, aiming to distract Tomura from their discreet inquiries. "Tomura, I see you were able to snatch up Mr. Nagasaki?" He discreetly nodded toward the influential politician, a gleaming black pin adorning his lapel, signaling his rumored candidacy.
Tomura's predatory grin grew. "Astute as ever, Izuku. Indeed, he's one of many who recognizes the wisdom of aligning their future endeavors with me. AFO's old networks are turning around. It's only a matter of time before the others turn over to my side."
Though Izuku's exterior remained passive, internally he stored the information. If they could get the biometric data of someone as high-ranking as Nagasaki...
By this point, Izuku was at his limit and decided that had what they needed for the night. So, with a quick squeeze to Katsuki's waist, Izuku motioned for them to leave. "Tomura, would you mind if Katsuki and I retired for the evening?"
Katsuki, catching on, leaned in with a suggestive purr, "We could use some privacy."
Amusement laced Tomura's reply. "Go ahead."
Hawks was waiting for them in the main floor lobby. He wore his usual sardonic grin, one that grated on Izuku's nerves, especially given their earlier encounter. The unmistakable tension between him and Hawks went unnoticed by Katsuki.
"I've been waiting for you two," Hawks whispered, his vibrant eyes flicking between Izuku and Katsuki.
Wasting no time, Hawks guided them to Izuku's old room, which was more like an extensive suite. The agent made his way to a table nearby where a simple compact case was waiting for them. Inside, a series of small, concealable cameras and audio devices lay meticulously arranged. On one side, a couple of compact weapons gleamed ominously under the room's lighting.
"These will help you gather evidence," Hawks explained, handing a small camera to Katsuki. "Good quality, night vision, and sound recording. Everything you'd need."
Katsuki nodded, examining the camera with a professional eye. "I have Tomura's study in mind, but do you have any other rooms in mind on the main floor?"
Hawks shrugged. "Tomura's study would be a good start. His private chambers, if you can get in, would be a goldmine."
Izuku watched the exchange, silent but alert. Every time Hawks' hand brushed against Katsuki's or their gazes lingered a little too long, he felt that surge of jealousy. Their earlier interaction and the flirtatious undertone of Hawks' demeanor weren't easy to forget.
While the two discussed placement and strategy, Izuku's restlessness grew. The lavish surroundings, the weight of their mission, and the palpable tension between him and Hawks made every second unbearable. But he held his tongue.
It would be another hour before Hawk called it a night and Izuku was ready to kick the other man out with a smile on his face. Katsuki followed the other man to the door as they made plans to meet tomorrow during his next match, but Izuku wasn't overly focused on their conversation as he followed them. His focus was more on Katsuki's form as he walked ahead of him.
As soon as they were the only two left in the room, Izuku's pent-up emotions reached their breaking point. The stress of the day, the weight of his responsibilities, and the constant pressure to prove himself all surged within him, seeking an outlet. In a moment of raw intensity, Izuku's hand shot out, grabbing Katsuki's collar and slamming him against the wall. The forceful impact reverberated through the room, but instead of fear or anger, Katsuki's eyes glinted with something else—an unexpected excitement.
He didn't waste time devouring Katsuki's lips as he clung to him. Needing more, Izuku lifted Katsuki up and he responded by wrapping his legs around Izuku's waist. The friction between them was intoxicating as Katsuki drew him in closer.
Izuku pulled away for a moment. His heart pounded in his ears as he tried to catch his breath between them. The rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins, mingling with the potent mix of emotions that had consumed him. This was his release, his way of breaking free from the chains that bound him.
Katsuki's tongue flicked out, teasing Izuku's bottom lip. "I'm not complaining, but are you okay?"
Izuku hummed, unwilling to talk just yet, as he pulled Katsuki tighter against him, enjoying the friction against his erection.
Katsuki let out a soft groan as he brushed his lips against Izuku's and moved his hands to cup the back of his neck. His grip was tight, deepening the kiss as their tongues intertwined.
Izuku felt lost in an endless embrace that could go on forever, but eventually, the need for air made them break apart again. Katsuki rested his forehead against Izuku's and ran his hands down his back soothingly.
The euphoria coursing through Izuku was overwhelming, sending shivers down his spine and making him feel more alive than before.
Just as they were about to continue, a phone on the table where they left their new equipment started ringing, cutting through the room.
Izuku frowned and reluctantly pulled away from Katsuki to answer the annoyance that had interrupted them. "Aizawa," he recognized the ID immediately.
Katsuki glanced over, his eyebrows knitting in mild annoyance. "I'll go freshen up," he muttered, stepping away and heading toward the adjacent bathroom.
As Katsuki disappeared from view, Izuku activated the device. "Everything's going according to plan. We got a few leads today."
There was a brief pause before Aizawa's calm, raspy voice filtered through. "Good. I wanted to check in and make sure you and Bakugo are safe."
"We're fine," Izuku responded, a hint of a defensive edge in his tone. "I told you, I can handle this."
A soft chuckle came from the other end. "I never doubted you, kid. Just remember, when all this is over, if anything happens legally, I'm ready to vouch for you. Both of you."
Izuku's lips twitched upwards. "Thanks, Aizawa. That... that means a lot."
Aizawa's voice held a hint of a smile. "Just doing my job. Keep Katsuki safe."
The line went silent, and Izuku leaned back against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. The weight of their mission pressed down on him, the reality of what they were up against heavy on his mind.
As the water ran in the bathroom, indicating Katsuki was almost done, Izuku quickly tapped into another line. Soon, the distinctive voice of Dabi crackled through.
"Any new intel?" Dabi's voice was hurried, probably still scouting the area.
"We have leads," Izuku replied, "But we'll need to be careful. A lot of powerful people are involved."
Dabi's voice was a low growl. "We expected that. Just let us know the plan."
Izuku glanced toward the bathroom door, waiting for Katsuki. "Katsuki and Hawk's will meet in the morning, so I'm sure he'll lay out the plan for you."
"Dabi," Izuku's voice was focused, "We need access to the biometrics of one guest on the Black level. You think Hawks can swipe it?"
There was a slight pause before Dabi replied, "Anyone specific?"
Izuku took a deep breath. "Mr. Nagasaki. He's a regular during AFO's time. Won't be suspicious if he's seen on different levels."
Dabi interjected, "I'm sure we can swipe it to make a copy. As for the security cameras, one of my men will be in the security room. We'll edit the feed. As long as you two aren't caught in the act, you'll be ghosts to Tomura."
A grin tugged at the corner of Izuku's mouth. "Perfect."
Katsuki, having overheard part of the conversation from the bathroom, stepped out with a determined look, his hair damp. "I have an idea to get us to the pink level," he began, brushing past Izuku. "There's a high chance I can entice a member enough to take me there if I do a bit more schmoozing. We just need Tomura distracted and I can slip away with them."
Izuku's expression darkened. "That's too dangerous, Kacchan. He could do anything to you."
Katsuki's voice was as fiery as ever, "Every part of this plan is dangerous, Deku. Do you think sneaking around his estate tomorrow won't be?"
Izuku clenched his fists, frustrated. "That's different. This is too direct."
Katsuki's gaze softened just a tad. "If we're going to do this, we need every advantage."
They locked eyes, the tension palpable. No words were needed. The risks were high, and they both knew it.
Seeing the two in disagreement, Dabi's voice interrupted the silence. "Let's focus on what we can control right now. I'll have Hawks and a few of my men keep an eye out for Katsuki tomorrow. We'll tackle the pink level later."
The room was quiet when they hung up. The weight of their mission was heavy in the air.
The dense atmosphere continued to hang over the room even after their call ended. To dissipate the growing stress, Izuku pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, extracting one with a sigh.
"I need some air," he muttered, stepping out onto a nearby balcony.
A few minutes passed, and the rustling sound of footsteps alerted Izuku to Katsuki's presence. Before he could turn, Katsuki's arms snaked around his waist from behind, the warmth seeping through the thin fabric of Izuku's shirt into his back.
"Got a lot on your mind?" Katsuki's voice was gentle, a stark contrast to their earlier conversation.
Izuku took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly, "Aizawa seems to have finally warmed up to me."
Katsuki chuckled, resting his chin on Izuku's shoulder, "You mean how he's not treating you like an enemy? Believe me, if you'd gone to the academy, you'd probably have been his favorite, not me."
Izuku felt a pang in his chest, the thought of what might've been always a tender spot. "Could've, would've," he whispered, "But it's not how things played out."
Katsuki tightened his grip, holding Izuku closer. "No use thinking about what could have been. We're here now, and we've got a mission."
Izuku gave a small nod, dropping the cigarette and stamping it out, appreciating Katsuki's support amidst the storm of uncertainty.
Katsuki watched as Izuku settled back into the room, the atmosphere still thick with unspoken tension. Gently, he took a step closer, his voice soft and filled with care. "You... you want to pick up where we left off?"
Izuku looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but he didn't push Katsuki away when he leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fall away, replaced by the gentle pressure and warmth of their closeness.
Pulling back slightly, Izuku gently cupped Katsuki's cheek, "As tempting as it is... we should probably rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
But as Izuku tried to pull away, Katsuki's sharp eyes locked onto the injuries from the fight — the minor bruises and cuts that Izuku had brushed off earlier. With a firm grip, he directed Izuku to sit on the bed. "You might've made light of these in front of everyone, but let me see."
"It's nothing," Izuku murmured, embarrassed by his attention, but Katsuki was already fetching the first aid kit.
The cool touch of the antiseptic, followed by the secure press of a bandage, each gesture was a testament to Katsuki's profound concern for him.
As Izuku felt the gentle strokes on his face, a serenity enveloped him, more soothing than any passionate exchange they'd shared earlier. Every knot of tension within him seemed to unfurl, and when Katsuki was done, Izuku's head naturally sought the comfort of Katsuki's shoulder, his eyelids growing heavy.
"Let's get some sleep," Katsuki whispered, the warmth clear in his voice.
"Yeah."