Izuku groggily awoke to a terrible crick in his back. Too tired to bother with the uncomfortable feeling, he tried to sink deeper into his bed, but the mattress felt like hard stone under him. Annoyed, he reached to rub the sleep from his eye. His hand didn't make it to his face.

Still dizzy with tiredness, he looked up to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. He vaguely noticed that he was already sitting up, and slouched over in an uncomfortable way. He tried to reach his hands around to push himself up.

Ching–!

The sound of a chain being pulled taut. His hands were stuck behind him.

Izuku felt a shiver of panic rush over him.

Adrenaline flooded him soon after, and he suddenly became very aware of his surroundings. Beneath him was a cold concrete floor, and pressed to his back, a thick pipe running out of the ground. He craned his neck – the action bringing out several involuntary pops – to look behind him. Wrapped around the pipe was a chain, and at each end of the chain was a cuff latched tightly around his wrists.

His eyes adjusted further to the darkness. A dark closet; a boiler room. The only light came through from underneath a doorway – the only exit he could see.

"What the…" his voice, barely a whisper, came out groggy. "D-Deku?"

Another voice; a familiar voice, just as groggy as his own, came forth.

"Izuku…?" Deku called his name, tired and drawn-out.

"Deku? What…" He finally noticed what he was wearing. A raggedy looking hoodie covered his frame, while rough gloves and boots hugged his hands and feet. "...the fuck?" he finished.

"Izuku?" Deku's voice came out only a little less tired.

"Where…?" panic bubbled up through him again. He struggled to keep it down.

"Mmm…" Deku groaned.

Izuku fought for clarity of mind. He took in his surroundings again. A dark room. Restraints on his wrists. No noise but the running boiler.

"Deku," he whispered, "I need you to wake up." The other boy groaned again in response. "Deku."

"M'fine, M'fine… just… tired…"

"Don't fall asleep, Deku. I need you now. Do you know where we are?"

"The… raid…"

"The raid? The raid with the Heroes?" In his panic, that hadn't crossed his mind. But now that he thought harder, the memory was clear. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep the night before was him wishing Deku luck. "Deku. The place the Heroes brought you. Are we still there?"

"Hmmm…" Deku was still barely awake, but Izuku could tell he was becoming more alert, if the constant straining of their muscles were anything to go by. Deku's body had always woken up before his mind, after all. "The Raid… the warehouse…"

"A warehouse? Okay, a warehouse. We're in a warehouse." It was the first piece of information he had to go off of, and he clung to it and repeated it like a montra. "The raid took place in the warehouse?"

"Mhmm…"

"Who put us here? In this room?" Had it been the Heroes? Had they turned on Deku? Or had it been the villains? Had they captured the other Heroes too? Then where were they? Why separate them? He didn't know. He wasn't sure. He barely had any information on the situation, and it made him queasy. "How long have we been out?"

"…Dunno… Just… hold on. Gotta… get up… gotta get back…"

Their body jolted as Deku tried to stand up. The restraint on their wrists brought them back down to the ground with simultaneous groans.

"Wha–" Deku tried again. He pulled away as far as he could and pulled a little more. Izuku didn't feel the pain of the strain, but Deku did, and Izuku could see how much it hurt.

"Deku. Deku, stop!" he whisper-shouted. They fell back to the floor.

"We gotta…"

"I know, I know, just…"

Deku shook his head. "Gotta get back… to the fight."

"I know, Deku, just let me think!"

They stilled.

Izuku ran the situation through his head again. He didn't know nearly enough to start making safe assumptions, but that didn't stop him.

"We don't know where we are in the warehouse," he mumbled, "or how long we've been here. Just that there was a fight. Something went wrong. You were brought here to this room. It couldn't have been the Heroes. If they had turned on you they would have brought you elsewhere. It has to be the villains. They only captured you, though, unless they brought the Heroes somewhere else, but they wouldn't have a reason to. If the Heroes had retreated after your capture, the villains would have come back for you. They couldn't have retreated, and they weren't captured… which means they're still fighting."

Deku showed no signs that he listened to every word Izuku just said, but the final line stirred something within him. "Still… fighting?" A groan escaped him, and his grogginess left with it, replaced by a guttural, almost animalistic growl. "We…" Another growl, and a furious shake of his head. "Need to help."

Izuku startled at this unfamiliar side of Deku; the raw, primal side that he so rarely saw. Nonetheless, he shook his head. "We need to get out of here, first and foremost."

Slowly, he stood up. Blood suddenly flowed to his legs. The sensation nearly brought him down once again, but he leaned his back into the pole to keep himself up.

"Can you move?"

Their leg twitched around. "Just barely," Deku said, "I'm still… so tired."

"That's okay. We'll find a way. We just need to…" get out of these chains went unsaid. He calmed his nerves and looked at his options.

The pole was thick, and the chains were robust, there was no breaking them. Above him, near where the pole met the ceiling, he could just barely make out what he thought was a break in the pole. But from his angle, it could just as well be nothing. There was nothing else to factor in, save for the metal binds on their wrists. He gave an experimental tug. Just barely small enough that they couldn't simply yank their wrists free.

"We need to…" he swallowed thickly, pushing down a lump of bile. "We need to dislocate our thumbs. The binds on our wrists are holding us, but just barely."

Deku hummed in confusion. He played around with the binds for himself, until his eyes widened in understanding. "Ah."

"O-or," Izuku offered weakly, "we could try our luck with the pipe. If there's a break near the top, we could–"

"We'd still be cuffed," Deku realized grimly.

"Y-yeah…" Izuku had nothing else. What could he say? "Listen, Deku, th-this'll hurt, but–"

"S'fine, Izuku. I'll take the pain. Just do it quick."

Izuku gulped again. His arms and knees trembled but he steeled himself. He had to do this. It would be over quickly; done in an instant. With trembling hands, he tangled their fingers together. Their thumbs found their way to the floor. A steel-soled boot shuffled to hold them down. He faltered.

"S'fine Izuku," Deku's words echoed again, "I'll take the pain."

Izuku took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and pulled.

POP– POP!

No other sound but Deku's teeth grinding against each other, and Izuku letting out his breath.

"Are you o-okay, Deku?"

Deku responded by slipping their wrists from their restraints. The chains chimed as they hit the floor. Still struggling to move, he held their hands in front of him and popped their thumbs back into place. Though Izuku felt no pain, he cringed at the sensation. "I feel…" Deku experimentally wiggled and cracked his fingers, "less tired."

They both tried to stand on wobbly legs, but fell back to the ground. Deku growled in frustration.

Izuku crawled towards the door – their only exit. He leaned their weight against the door to slowly rise back to their feet. Grabbed the door knob, "Please don't be locked, please don't be locked," turned the knob and pushed. Nothing. He pulled the door back. Still nothing. He wiggled the knob either way, pushing again. Izuku's breath shortened. "No, please…" his breaths became ragged.

Izuku nearly yelped in surprise when Deku threw their shoulder into the door. "S'not locked." He threw their shoulder into it again. It didn't budge.

"Deku, stop. It might be barricaded."

Deku didn't listen, he just slammed into the door again. "S'not locked," he repeated to himself.

"Stop! You'll hurt yourself!" Izuku chastised again. For a moment, he thought he heard the sound of cracking wood.

"It's not locked!" Deku rammed the door one last time. There was another wooded crack! And the door came loose from the frame. Growling again in frustration, Deku grabbed the door and pulled it back, the busted edges splintering as he threw it to the ground.

Now all that stood in their way were several large crates that had been pushed up against the door to keep them in. Gripping the doorframe to keep himself upright, Deku kicked them away. He slipped past them, and stumbled before catching himself on the wall.

Izuku looked around. They were in a hallway, as dark and dank as the room they just escaped from. He saw and heard no one around; they were likely still away, fighting with the heroes.

"Do you recognize any of this, Deku?" Izuku whispered.

Deku looked back and forth to each end of the hallway. Neither way looked particularly inviting, nor did either way scream danger. He peered through his mind's eye, through the inked lines on the memory of a map. He recalled what little he could. "Left." They set off.


They made their way along, keeping themselves upright by leaning against the wall. They were still weak, but Deku felt himself growing stronger.

The hallways were mostly blank, only littered with electrical lines and steam pipes. What few doors they happened to come across, Izuku silently opened. Old storage and unused meeting rooms were all that greeted them. Dust-caked furniture was flipped and cabinets were ransacked. It was clear they hadn't gotten much use in a while.

All the while, Izuku inquired about the situation. Deku didn't remember much, only the vague outline of the warehouse and the fact that the building was the hideout of a major Trigger Kingpin. Izuku filed that information away for later.

Their trek through the snaking hallways led them to a door that opened to a stairway. On the wall was a large painted -1, revealing they were in some sort of basement.

They climbed the stairway, and with each step, Izuku felt a pit in his stomach grow deeper. It was only just sinking in for him how frightening their situation really was. Deku, on the other hand, felt invigorated. The numbness in his hands had now gone away, and the throbbing in his head was drowned out by the thumping of his heart.


Their foot came down heavily on the final step to the ground floor. They pushed themselves to the door.

They turned the handle and leaned into it. The room opened to a sight.

containers, crates, and glass vials everywhere. Barrels stacked high along the walls, and rows and rows of them lined themselves along long narrow tables. Stools and furniture were lined up along with them. All of it clean. All of it in use. And still no one else around.

"The hell…?" Izuku voiced his thoughts. His eyes followed a line of barrels to find that it led to the back of a large cargo truck. The truck faced a closed garage door, ready to depart at a moment's notice.

Carefully, he approached the back of the truck and peered inside. It was already halfway filled, but one barrel hadn't been pushed all the way in. It had toppled over and slipped a heap of large glass vials. Perhaps in the rush to meet the raiding Heroes, a Villain had accidentally tipped it over.

Deku picked up one of the vials. A striking crimson liquid sloshed around inside.

Trigger.

Izuku hummed to himself. "So this is their stock…" As Deku continued to study the vial, Izuku looked back out to the lines of barrels.

Each line led to the truck, but each began at a pile of assorted items. Suitcases, stuffed animals, fine china, and old boots, just to name a few. It clicked with Izuku.

"Ah, I see…" his thoughts made themselves known through his mumbles. "This is where they put their Trigger as they get it. It gets to them in a wide variety of smuggled containers but it all ends up being put in barrels."

Izuku mulls over this for a moment.

"Wait… this doesn't make sense…"

"Hm?" Deku was pulled from his inspection of the vial. "What doesn't?"

"Why put the Trigger in barrels?"

"Uh, for… storage?" Deku asked, unsure of his own suggestion.

"But they're not storing it. They're shipping it. It's all being brought to one place. They're the sellers, but who's the buyer? Who the hell needs this much Trigger?"

Suddenly, a low rumble shook the floor under their feet. Accompanied by a resonating beat.

Deku spoke up. "...You hear that?" Izuku's head twitched towards the sound to show that he did. "I think we found our Heroes."

"What makes you say that?"

"'Cus Heroes make lotsa noise when they fight."

They moved across the room, through a doorway, and into yet another unlit hallway that twisted around a corner. The rumbling now shook the walls as well, and bits of dust from the ceiling came fluttering down.

"That sounds like some serious power being thrown around up there." Izuku commented nervously.

Deku hummed in agreement.

They pressed onwards.


At the last turn of the corridor, they peaked around to see the grim state of the battle:

At first, Izuku counted three Heroes. All of which he immediately recognized as rookies. Earphone Jack and Tsukuyomi stood in the center of a ring of Villains. Vantablack was lying motionless at their feet. A slow river of blood gushed from his head.

The other two Heroes didn't look much better, though they still put up a fight. Tsukuyomi was fast and agile, dodging attacks and landing swift blows on any Villain that got in close. Earphone Jack stayed back, firing blasts sound waves at their adversaries and creating bubbles around them that few Villains were willing to enter.

Then, Izuku noticed the fourth Hero. Eye-Bags lay prone on the ground. The terrifying figure of a bronze-haired man towered above him.

"That's the boss," Deku whispered, "that's who we're here for."

Izuku felt a lump form in his throat. He ducked back around the corner. Nervousness shook through his core, and his mind began to race.

Maybe they could turn around and find another way out? He thought back to the image of the Heroes trembling from exhaustion, outnumbered and surrounded, and shook off that thought. Could they fight, then? Deku could, but even from the stories the other boy had told him, Izuku knew even he couldn't handle being that overwhelmed. No, might alone would not get them out of this. They would have to be clever.

He barely peaked his eye back around the corner. There was no way to approach them without being spotted; they wouldn't be able to rely on stealth. For a brief moment, diplomacy crossed Izuku's mind, but then he watched the boss of the villains sneer down at Eye-Bags beneath his foot. The boss didn't seem like a reasonable man, but perhaps he could still be reasoned with. He wouldn't stop through any ounce of kindness in his heart, that much was obvious. But what did Izuku have to offer to a man like that? What kind of bartering chips could he lay out on the table? What would a villain like that hold above his own pride? Money, that much was obvious, but Izuku had nothing to offer. Even if he did, the boss wouldn't believe he did with the raggedy hoodie draped over his shoulders.

"We…" a lump formed again in his throat, but this time swallowing did not push it down. "We're gonna have to bluff our way out of this."

Deku quietly mulled over his words. "Okay," he whispered in a low, husky voice that betrayed his nerves. "I trust you."

Izuku grimly realized that none of it looked good. Any move they made would be a gamble. Whatever they did, whatever he came up with, they were gonna need a hell of a lot of luck.

He just hoped he could come up with something.

Then, his eyes drifted to a blotch of red in his peripheral vision. A gasoline fuel can lay on its side. A dastardly plan began stewing in his head.


-=0O0=-


Hitoshi pushed back against the weight of the boot on his back in vain. The beastly man above him didn't let him budge an inch. Futily, he swung his hands through the air, trying to grasp at the man's leg with broken and bruised fingers to no avail. His attempt brought the man's heel down harder on his back.

He felt tears of hot frustration and pain prick at his eyes as he struggled to breathe under the pressure of the heavy boot.

"You made'a big mistake, kid," the man's voice taunted him in a heavy accent. "You n' your friends'r as good as dead."

A meaty palm slammed against his skull and five sausage fingers gripped down hard. The hand pulled him up by the head, and the bones in his neck cracked in an uncomfortable way at the strain. Broken fingers still clawed futilely. The man's face came tauntingly close; the air filled with his gross breath.

Few times had Hitoshi ever felt so helpless in his life. He was a proud and capable fighter, trained by proud and respectable Heroes whom he was sure would not struggle in the same situation. The thought ate at him. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. He knew he had to keep fighting, even though the odds were against him. He had to find a way to turn the tables on these brutes and get out of this alive. He swung his arms out, hoping– praying– to at least hit him.

But the vile man simply held him further away.

"Oh-hoh!" he leered. "Still fightin'? You lot have become pests. Gits me angry, it does. Makes me almost giddy think'n 'bout what I'll do to ya to let off some of dis fru'stration."

Hitoshi gathered the hatred in his gut, and the frustration in his tears. Pooling all his regret and embarrassment into a well-formed loogie that landed itself right on the villain's forehead.

It wiped the grin off his face. "You little…"

The air was knocked out of him as his cheek again met concrete. And again the man's boot met his back, hard.

Just then, "FFWEEEEET!" A loud whistle echoed through the air.

All eyes turned to look, and there, from the shadows of a corridor, a golden orb of light shone. It was a flaming torch, crudely made. At its other end was the Green-Hooded Vigilante. Their left sleeve had been torn off. Used to fashion their torch. Revealing padded armor underneath. They held their flame low, in a casually relaxed stance. The light licked at the underside of his mask, painting a disturbing visage.

"Eh?" The man appraised the new arrival. "When the hell…? …Hmpf. Doesn't matter." He straightened his posture. "Come to help your friends, eh? You're a bit late, then. And under-equipped."

"This isn't a weapon. I'm not gonna fight you. This is a bargaining chip."

"...How do you figure that?"

"It's simple. You do something I don't like, and…" He trailed off. Slowly, he lowered the torch to just above the ground, illuminating a puddle of liquid at his feet. He moved the torch a bit back, and illuminated an empty fuel can laying on its side. "...your whole stock goes up in flames."

"Ha! And you'll just burn yourself to a crisp too? You're crazy!"

"Maybe… Is that a chance you want to take?"