The last time he had seen the man, Izuku had been asleep. They always start at dusk, just as the sun was beginning to set. The thoughts, the memories, all came racing back to him in such fast succession that he could hardly breathe. One punch to the gut after another. Could I have done more? Where is he? Is he alive? Will I ever see him again? They circled his mind like a raging storm cloud, ringing in his ears. For years, they haunted him.

But there he was, right in front of him for the first time in ten years.

The rain fell heavy on his coat. Weighing him down and anchoring him to where he stood. Words couldn't leave his mouth, muscles wouldn't move. It was as if he was frozen in time. Perhaps he was. For all he knew, this was another nightmare, albeit a very intense and real one.

He stumbled forward, almost falling to his knees on the muddy pavement. Before him was a vision he thought he would never lay eyes on again. Izuku's eyes were plastered to the man sitting in a dimly lit and unobtrusive izakaya across the street. His feet moved without thinking and before he knew it he was standing in the small doorway. Midoriya wasn't sure what force moved him. It wasn't one of his own will. It felt insistent, beckoning. Like a screaming in his limbs, a fire in his heart. He entered and wandered up to a small booth near the back of the tiny shack.

"Bakugou Katsuki, it's been some time.."

…

Most of his missions were simple, to the point. This one, however, felt different. This was personal. Katsuki took a puff from his cigarette. The sharp burn bringing him comfort. The rain was falling hard that night, he noted. His ratty jacket did not block the cold from his bones; every drop on his skin was icicles to his core. He had received word from the boss that someone at the station had been sniffing too close. As All for One's right hand man it was his job to investigate and snuff out any suspicious activity before they became problems. His instructions were to eliminate the apparent threat to the organization. His name- Denki Kaminari, Katsuki's former classmate in the academy. Times were different then. He was different then. But Denki seemed the same as always.

Katsuki stood outside of a nice housing complex. This side of the city was quieter than what he was used to. There was a gentle hum from the power lines above him, but no other noise could be heard. The apartment in his view was lit with warm ambiance that almost made him homesick for something he wasn't even sure he remembered. A life he once had, perhaps? But the feelings were as fleeting as his memory of a time long past. There was a small group of familiar people Bakugou recognized from his former academy, gathered inside Denki's apartment. Jiro, Mina and Kirishima gathered on a couch near the fireplace. Katsuki could just make out the form of Denki speaking to someone from the window he was perched outside of. Watching the group made something bubble in his chest, an urge to bust through the window and beg for someone to help him. After some time, Katsuki decided it was for the best to hang low in the surrounding area until the gathering had subsided. He didn't need help. Or maybe he felt like he didn't deserve it at this point.

It was a little past 2 A.M. when Katsuki returned to the oversized apartment building. The last of the guests had left, leaving the windows dark and cold. Devoid of the warmth they held earlier. Katsuki also felt himself grow colder in turn. Not because this didn't pain him, but out of necessity. The boss was not kind to those who failed him. He saw that much to be true in the ten years he stood by All For One's side. Katsuki would not fail now. Not after so long. The grueling years he had under his belt were like a sick twisted trophy pinned into his skin.

The rain had stopped puddling in the streets as Katsuki walked slowly up the stairs. After taking note of where the cameras were located on the building, he decided the direct route was best. The front door. Katsuki was proficient enough at his job by this point that the fancy tricks felt too tiresome anyways. As he shimmied the door open, a wave of guilt washed over him knowing what he had to do. Walking through the front entrance, it grew louder, more insistent. The apartment was warm, the murmur of appliances washed a feeling of security over the entire space. The room was lightly decorated, photos lined the walls and one in particular caught his attention. He walked over to the framed photo hung neatly in the middle of all the others. A soft sigh left his mouth. Bright smiling and familiar faces stared back at him. Pictured were all of his classmates at what looked like their academy graduation. Excitement lit all of their faces as they embraced, some jumping for joy. He took a moment to look over everyone's face, committing their older features to memory. A small smile tugged at his lips as his eyes landed on a smaller green haired boy in the back. Katsuki gently touched the glass, outlining the boy's frame with his gloved index finger. He pulled himself away from the photo, reluctantly, and gathered his thoughts.

He made his way into the bedroom, the layout of the apartment already familiar to him from his days spent gathering intel. Denki lay in bed, alone and sleeping. As Katsuki walked closer the faint smell of alcohol filled his nose. He slowly pulled the gun out from the holster on his chest and attached the silencer to the end of the barrel. He made note of the soft rise and fall of the man's chest, the quiet breath escaping his lips. These moments, right before the kill, were the closest he could come to peace. The past ten years had been so chaotic, traumatizing and loud with rage. After taking a few moments to revel in the warmth of that fleeting feeling, he pulled the trigger. The feeling of shame didn't quiet itself like it usually did. He holstered his gun and made his way out of the small bedroom. On his way out, he glanced at the photo one more time. His urges took him, before he knew it he was breaking the glass of the photo frame and taking what felt like his. The cold greeted him as he disappeared into the twilight.

…

Katuski didn't sleep the three nights following killing Denki. His regret was a siren in his mind, signaling trouble ahead. Begrudgingly, he rolled out of his modest mattress and slunk out into the night. His feet guided him mindlessly to a familiar place. The heart of the city raged on around him. The hustle and bustle of Tokyo never ceased to amaze Katsuki. The dim lights of the izakaya came into view as he flicked his cigarette to the ground. The rain was still heavy and he was growing tired of being so cold. The small building was as warm and welcoming as always. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he would finally stop shaking. Was it the cold, he wondered, or was it this gut wrenching feeling over taking his mind? The older woman who owned the shop stood behind the counter, drying glasses as he walked in. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgement as he walked past heading towards the usual booth in the back.

The aroma of warm morsels and booze filled his nose like an olfactory symphony. The izakaya, Akoya, was situated near the center of town, a tiny run down building barely noticeable to the untrained eye. The dim lighting was a stark contrast to the glowing city around him, bright and unforgiving. Large paper lanterns hung from the ceiling , illuminating everything in a hazy red glow. Smoke danced through the air, giving an almost mystical energy to the surroundings. The restaurant was decorated floor to ceiling in tiny Knick knacks and masks from various artists. Not a space was left uncovered. He darted his eyes around the familiar area, reveling in the unique beauty. Katsuki could hear the gentle chatter of conversation around him. He was finally beginning to distract himself from the sight of Denki's body.

Lifeless, cold… A small trail of blood ran down his forehead as the last of his breath left his form…..

He shook his head fiercely. Even the mention of the man's name sent his brain into an overload. He had to let it go, or the guilt would consume him. After ordering his usual sake, he let out a sigh and sunk into the seat, closing his eyes. The booth offered a sense of security he hadn't felt for many years. He didn't know what magic the foam and fabric contained, but he wasn't going to question it.

The soft ding of the bell swept through the small building as the door opened. Sharp, cold air followed whoever entered. Insistent steps grew closer to Katsuki. Curiosity got the better of him and he pried his eyes open, just slightly. He shot back into the booth, making a loud noise as he knocked the table askew. An apparition from his past stood at the end of the table, emerald eyes staring back at him.

"Bakugou Katsuki, it's been some time..". Midoriya Izuku stood frozen in place, the look on his face was stern, unreadable. Katsuki's breath felt like it was caught in his throat. Thinking had become difficult, the torment in his heart burst forth from his chest, so heavy it almost felt tangible. He knew his face was twisted, mirroring the feelings he felt inside.

"Izuku…." his voice was barely a whisper, so quiet he wasn't sure if he had even spoken. Every cell screamed for him to run, escape wasn't going to be an easy option, as the man stood in his path. He was cornered, frightened like a small animal. Katsuki's commotion had gathered some attention and he noticed the owner of the izakaya walking in their direction.

"Is everything okay, dear? Is this young man harassing you? Shall I ask him to leave?" the meek woman asked, barely visible behind Izuku's rigid form.

"No ma'am. I'm a detective with the Tokyo force," he didn't turn his head to make eye contact with the woman, opting only to show her his badge over his shoulder, " I just need to ask this gentleman some questions. Would it be alright to use your izakaya?" He flashed her his award winning smile, finally looking her direction. "We will be quiet, I swear it.". The woman pondered it for a moment, gazing around her to assess the risk of letting the men stay in the restaurant.

She nodded, " That will be okay I suppose. Please, do keep it down; and try to order something if you can. You may be police but I still won't accept loitering in my izakaya.". Izuku nodded and bowed, grateful for her kindness. The small woman retreated behind the counter once more and the green haired man finally turned his attention back to Katsuki.

Katsuki took this moment to analyze the figure of the man before him. He had grown larger since the last time Katsuki had seen him. Which would only make sense, since it had been nearly a decade. They were just children then. Izuku's hair was forever messy, green curls falling lightly around his face, framing it in a way that reminded Katsuki of fine art. The freckles on his cheeks had lightened slightly from what his memory held, the lack of sunlight evident on the smaller man's face. He noted the dark circles that were formed under Izuku's eyes. The man looked tired, but he held a glint of something fierce in his eyes. Izuku used the pause in Katsuki's movement to pull out his handcuffs and quickly cuffed Katsuki to the table.

"What the fuck is this for," he asked gruffly. Izuku chuckled and sat across from him in the booth, gently fixing the table as he did.

"I'm a cop, Kacchan. Your body language screams that you want to run. I'm not letting that happen. Not…not after everything" Katsuki winced at the use of his childhood nickname. "Where have you been? Why haven't you come home..?" Izuku's eyes were bearing into him, tears already forming. Katsuki pursed his lips, showing his unwillingness to talk. The green haired man did not push further, his training kicking in. He wouldn't get any information if he tried to force it out of Katsuki, of that he was sure. The man had always been stubborn, but now he looked frightened on top of it.

"Kacchan," he said, voice beginning to go hoarse from tears, "There's something I have to tell you. I feel like you have the right to know…Kaminari….he's…he's dead. We found him in his apartment a few days ago. He had been murdered."