Katsuki slid into the room, feeling the snug fit of his black suit against his frame. The patterns on the jacket felt exactly right, as did the sharp cut of the trousers. *Nailed it,* he thought with a smirk.
Izuku, previously lost in some thought by the kitchen, nearly spat out the water he was sipping. Katsuki's grin widened at that sight. *Got him.*
Without missing a beat, Katsuki closed the gap between them. Pinning Izuku lightly against the counter, he dove in, claiming his lips with his own. The kiss was every bit the power play he intended it to be.
Drawing back, he chuckled at Izuku's dazed expression. "Ready for the ball?" Katsuki asked.
Katsuki felt a triumphant thrill run down his spine, noticing Izuku's flushed face and slightly parted lips. "Something wrong, Deku?" he drawled, a wolfish grin etched on his face. Using the old nickname was deliberate,
Izuku tried to push him away, but there wasn't much conviction in the movement. "You think you're so clever, don't you, Kacchan?" he retorted, using Katsuki's own childhood moniker. His eyes, however, betrayed him — swirling with a mix of challenge and something softer.
Katsuki leaned in again, breath ghosting Izuku's ear. "I think," he whispered, "that I've caught the great Bunny off guard. Again."
Pulling back to appraise Izuku's now disheveled form, Katsuki quirked an eyebrow. "You're going to have to fix your tie now," he observed cheekily.
Izuku glanced down at the tie, which had become skewed in their little tussle. A sigh escaped him. "Look what you've done. We're going to be late."
Katsuki laughed softly. "You blaming me? You should've been prepared for my killer looks," he quipped, shooting a wink Izuku's way.
Rolling his eyes but smiling despite himself, Izuku straightened his tie. "Let's get going, then. We've got a big night ahead of us."
"Oh, trust me," Katsuki replied with a smirk, opening the door, "I'm more than ready."
Katsuki eyed the estate from the window of their sleek black car. If he had a choice, he would never set foot in this place again, but as luck would have it, the mission required him to do just that.
Yet as the car snaked its way up the driveway, even Katsuki had to admit they'd transformed the estate since that evening. Where it once felt imposing, now it exuded an air of elegance and regality that was hard to ignore. The grounds, previously bare and minimalist, now boasted manicured lawns kissed by threads of silvery mist. Most strikingly grand statues that hadn't been there before now loomed over the entrance gates, their stony faces watching over every arrival with an unyielding gaze.
"They really went all out this time," Katsuki muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
"That's how these things usually go, a farce of sophistication on the outside to cover up the rot inside," Izuku said.
The subdued hum of conversations and the soft echo of music reached Katsuki's ears as they neared the ornate gates of the estate. Aizawa's name flashed on Katsuki's phone as it buzzed.
"Bakugou," Aizawa's voice was the familiar tone of all business.
Katsuki responded curtly, "At the entrance now."
"Remember, Hawks will seek you out once you're inside. First contact is crucial," Aizawa instructed.
"Yeah, yeah. You're a worse nag than the old hag, you know that?"
Aizawa didn't even bother to acknowledge Katsuki's words as he continued like he hadn't opened his mouth.
"Scope out the lobby floor. Get a feel for exits, entries, guards, and the works. We won't know if you'll get another chance once Tomura ushers you to the lower levels." Aizawa's tone underscored the importance of the task.
Katsuki's sharp eyes darted to Izuku, who sat beside him in his pristine suit, looking like someone had chiseled him out of marble. Izuku nodded.
"Understood. We'll be ready."
"Keep your wits about you, Bakugou. Tonight's just the beginning."
"Have a little faith in me, would you?" Katsuki's voice carried that familiar defiant edge before ending the call.
The car came to a smooth stop. Parking attendants in crisp uniforms approached, opening their doors with a fluid motion. Izuku glanced at Katsuki, a determined set to his jaw. "You ready to tear it all down?"
Katsuki's smirk was razor sharp as he replied, "Let's show them who they're messing with." Together, they strode purposefully into the thrum of the grand estate, the hauntingly beautiful notes of a piano sonata guiding them in. The night had just begun, and they were ready to unearth its secrets.
The sound of chattering guests grew louder as Katsuki and Izuku approached the entrance, a symphony of voices underlined by the distant tinkle of champagne flutes. It was scene that screamed for the wealthy and the elite as they moved about in a flurry of silks, satins, and glittering jewels.
"Feels like we're entering a damn movie premiere," Katsuki grumbled, scanning the scene, every inch of his frame radiating tension.
Izuku shot him a sidelong glance but didn't comment, already accustomed to Katsuki's constant, simmering restlessness. As they neared the entrance, a series of security personnel in crisp black suits moved forward, setting the atmosphere's tone. It was almost like stepping into an airport security zone, the looming guards leaving no room for anything but to as instructed.
"Phones, please," a tall, broad-shouldered security guard ordered, extending a gloved hand toward them.
Katsuki's hand twitched with a mix of annoyance and a calculated understanding of why the measure was in place. As he surrendered his phone, it reminded him why it was so important to locate Hawks inside. The earlier, the better.
"Everything will be returned to you after the event has ended. If you choose to leave early you will need to return here for check out." The guard instructed.
Katsuki didn't do more than a simple nod, Izuku close behind them as they were ushered forward.
As they progressed, a heated exchange caught Katsuki's sharp ears. A wiry man, sporting a pink level pin on his lapel, was practically spitting fire at another security personnel. "They promised me black-level access! I need to speak with Tomura immediately!"
The security guard's stiff posture and unyielding gaze made it clear: this would not end in the pink-pinned man's favor. Katsuki couldn't help but smirk inwardly. No matter how grand the event was, some things never changed.
Izuku nudged him subtly, urging him to move along and not get too distracted. They had a bigger game to play, after all.
With every step, Katsuki's eyes roved the scene, constantly cataloging information, never truly at rest. While Izuku was the navigator, leading them through the throngs, Katsuki was the hunter, every nerve alert, his attention darting between guests and exits.
A pair of elderly gentlemen, mingling in a corner, exchanged what seemed to be stock tips in hushed voices, though their heavy gold pins — signaling their special status — told Katsuki there was likely more to their conversation than met the eye. A few paces ahead, a woman in a shimmering emerald gown laughed a bit too loudly, her arm hooked through a man whose black level pin rested ostentatiously against his pristine white suit.
He made a mental note of a guarded door to the right — probably a restricted area. On the opposite end, a balcony teemed with guests, yet two burly guards stood at its entrance, scanning the crowd with vigilant eyes.
"It's like navigating a labyrinth, right," Izuku murmured, sounding simultaneously impressed and wary. "Every corner turned, another mystery unfolds."
Katsuki smirked, eyes never ceasing their surveillance. "A hell of a lot of demons in this fairy tale, huh?"
Izuku shot him a wry smile. "Well, you know what they say about demons — they're most dangerous when they wear the faces of angels."
"And what does that make you? A demon or an angel?" Katsuki asked.
"Oh, I'm the worst kind," Izuku said.
His hand reached out and curled around Katsuki's waist, dragging him close against Izuku's side.
Chuckling softly, Katsuki's gaze momentarily met Izuku's. There was a shared understanding there, a mutual acknowledgment of the gravity of their mission. Breaking the brief connection, Katsuki noticed another door, this timeless guarded but with a significant flow of people. Could be an exit... or a trap.
A lady draped in blue, a cascade of diamonds around her neck, passed them, her perfume a heady mix of artificial roses that stung at Katsuki's senses. She shot Katsuki a flirtatious smile as she passed. Izuku leaned in close to his ear, his breath tickling his skin as his grip tightened. Katsuki teased the thought that Izuku may feel jealous of the attention given to him.
"Catch your eye?" Izuku teased, a hint of mischief in his tone.
Katsuki scoffed. "Just another demon to watch out for."
The allure of the waltz resonated through the grand hall. Elegance and grace dominated the dance floor, casting an enchanting spell amidst the sea of conversations and clinking glasses.
"You think you can keep up?" Katsuki teased, arching a brow towards Izuku.
A smirk played on Izuku's lips. "Still, so much you don't know about me, Katsuki." Without another word, he pulled Katsuki forward, leading the dance with a confidence that took Katsuki by pleasant surprise.
As they glided over the floor, Katsuki's vigilant gaze darted across the crowd. Gold and Red pins were predominant, signifying those with lower-level access. Amidst them were the occasional Pink pins, marking those with a bit more privilege. But it was the rare Black pins that Katsuki sought after — the keys to Tomura and the vital evidence they desperately needed.
"See Hawks anywhere?" Katsuki's voice was barely more than a murmur, his eyes scanning the periphery of the ballroom. But as his eyes drifted back to his dance partner, Izuku's gaze locked onto his, an unexpected intensity flickering within.
For a moment, Katsuki found himself completely caught in it, the weight of that stare pulling him in like gravity.
The ambient sounds of the room dimmed into a muted hum, replaced by the now-pronounced rhythm of Katsuki's heartbeat. Izuku's hand against his back became a focal point, drawing him, eliminating any space that dared exist between them. The warmth of that grip seared through the fabric of Katsuki's suit, grounding him, pulling him deeper into Izuku as he led him deeper into the dance floor.
His own hand, which had started at the nape of Izuku's neck, drifted downward, fingers slipping beneath the collar of the suit to graze the smooth skin there. Every detail, every sensation heightened, from the faint trace of Izuku's cologne - a captivating blend of cedarwood and a fresher note he couldn't quite identify - to the gentle ebb and flow of Izuku's breath which he could feel against his own face.
"Izuku?" The name escaped Katsuki's lips in a breathy murmur, his voice thick with a storm of emotions that whirled beneath the surface.
Izuku's smirk was both knowing and teasing. "What's on your mind, Kacchan?" His voice, low and intimate, carried a hint of intimate promises. Their noses nearly touched, the warmth of their exhalations mingling.
The grand ballroom, with its glittering lights and an array of guests, receded into insignificance. In that elongated heartbeat, the world consisted only of the space they occupied, charged with a tension that thrummed with intensity and longing.
Katsuki and Izuku found themselves lost in their shared gaze when a sudden intrusion broke the moment. With a deliberately exaggerated misstep, Hawks bumped into Katsuki, effectively ending their dance. Katsuki stumbled, but Hawks' nimble fingers had already deposited sleek earpieces into his pocket in the guise of steadying him.
"My apologies," Hawks murmured with faux innocence, offering Katsuki a sheepish grin. His gaze deliberately avoided making direct eye contact, ensuring the façade of them being strangers remained intact.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, feigning irritation. "Easy there."
Hawks let his eyes travel deliberately over Katsuki, lips quirking up. "Guess I got distracted. I've never seen someone light up the room quite like you do."
Katsuki, taken aback, scoffed, "Is that your go-to line?"
Hawks leaned in, his voice playfully low. "Only for the ones that leave a lasting impression," he replied, giving Katsuki a flirtatious wink.
Izuku's demeanor had changed. His shoulders tensed, eyes narrowing. "Enough with the games," he uttered tersely, the protective undertone evident.
Hawks simply chuckled. "Just a bit of fun, nothing to get worked up about," he said, amused. He then gracefully sidestepped into the flow of the crowd, leaving the pair behind.
Katsuki, catching on to the dynamic too late, smirked at Izuku. "Someone's jealous."
Izuku just huffed, cheeks tinged with a hint of pink, as he tried to regain his composure. The buzz of the party resumed, but the charged air between them remained.
The room hushed in reverence as Tomura entered, but all Katsuki could focus on was the small, blue-haired girl beside him. Eri. Izuku had shown him a picture once–a stolen moment of a father and daughter playing in a park, laughter in their eyes. This was not the same girl, standing like a porcelain doll by Tomura's side.
"Esteemed guests," Tomura began, his tone dripping with faux warmth, "thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight. As many of you know, tonight is a special night. Not only are we here to celebrate a wonderful event of generosity and charity, but also we celebrate a welcomed return."
Tomura's gaze slid over to Izuku, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "I'd like to introduce, or perhaps reintroduce, Izuku to many of you. Returning at my side, as our prize fighter. The prodigal son returns, so to speak."
Whispers and murmurs broke out immediately. Katsuki's ears caught snippets of conversations, words like "AFO's prized Bunny" and "power move" swirling around.
Without hesitation, Izuku stepped forward with Katsuki close at his heels, reaching out to pull Eri into his arms. "It's okay, sweetie," he whispered, a voice only loud enough for those closest to him to hear.
Eri, composed for a girl her age, smiled gently up at her father. "I'm not worried, Daddy." She reached up, patting his cheek affectionately. "I know you'll make everything right again."
Her gaze then slid to Katsuki, recognition flickering in her eyes. "You're Kacchan," she declared, her tone more curious than accusatory.
Katsuki blinked, taken aback. "Yeah, that's me. Heard of me, huh?"
Eri nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Daddy has lots of pictures of you on his phone. But you look... older than the pictures."
Izuku coughed awkwardly, his face heating. "Eri, what did I say about going through my phone?"
She shrugged, her innocent demeanor returning. "My birthday is a bad password, Daddy, so it's your fault, really."
Katsuki scoffed, already liking the girl and her smart mouth. He could already tell she had Izuku wrapped around her little finger.
Eri continued, "Thank you, Kacchan."
He frowned, puzzled. "For what?"
She hugged her father tighter, her voice a mere whisper. "For being here."
Their temporary bubble popped around them as Tomura grabbed their attention with a grand closing of the speech they hadn't bothered to listen to.
Katsuki watched as every eye in the room stayed fixed on them. Izuku's expression was unreadable, but there was a steely resolve that was palpable. He stood next to Tomura, their alliance - whether genuine or coerced - now laid bare for all to see.
"As we embark on the festivities of the next few days," Tomura said with a sweeping gesture, "let them be a testament to a new dawn. Now, let the celebrations begin at the lower levels."
He led the way, with Izuku and Eri close behind. Katsuki, trying to keep his emotions in check, discreetly adjusted the earpiece hidden in his pocket, ready for the next move. As they descended, the weight of the mission, and the stakes at hand, loomed larger than ever.
The hum of the descending elevators filled Katsuki's ears as they made their way to the Red Level. The soft clicking of shoes punctuated the quiet ambiance against polished marble floors. As the doors slid open, the unmistakable scent of leather and sweat wafted in, a stark reminder of what awaited them: the gritty reality of underground fighting.
The venue was stark and minimalistic. At its center stood a large cage-like structure, and inside, two fighters stood, facing each other, the tension palpable. Despite the opulence of the earlier floors, this level had an eerie, stripped-down feel. Guests filed past Katsuki, taking their seats with excited murmurs, their anticipation for the fight evident in their chatter. The stark walls echoed with every step and whisper, amplifying the atmosphere's tension.
Suddenly, Izuku slowed, turning to face Katsuki. "I need to prepare," he whispered, the gravity in his voice making it clear he wasn't merely referring to a warm-up.
Eri looked up, her eyes filled with understanding. "You'll be okay, Daddy."
Izuku gave her a soft smile, filled with a mix of sadness and pride. "I know, sweetie. I always am." Then, focusing on Katsuki, he said, "Take care of her for me."
"I will," Katsuki replied, feeling the weight of what he was saying. "I've got her."
Eri's fingers tightened slightly around Katsuki's hand. Her presence, amidst the growing noise of the audience, became a grounding point for him. He could sense the eagerness of the crowd, their anticipation for the violence that would soon unfold. It sickened him, but he had to remain composed for Eri's sake.
"I'll be right back," Izuku said.
"We'll be waiting," Katsuki said, his voice firm yet filled with an underlying concern. As Izuku's retreating form vanished, Katsuki felt a weight on his shoulders, the responsibility of Eri's safety now squarely in his hands.
Tomura's voice echoed from further ahead, a mix of charm and venom. "Come along, everyone. The best seats in the house await."
As they exited the hallway, Katsuki entered a vast viewing area. A luxurious enclave, the VIP box, perched above a vast, cage-like arena. The area had a muted opulence: darker hues, understated gold trims, and dimmed ambient lighting, all designed to focus attention squarely on the pit below.
Katsuki glanced around, taking in the scene. Dark velvet curtains lined the walls, while thick, plush carpets muffled their steps. The generously spaced seats created an air of exclusivity and the room buzzed with anticipation, a blend of high society and the primal thrill of the fights.
In the middle of the box, there was a large, clear pane, granting them an unobstructed view of the cage. Two fighters below were stretching, the cage bars casting a grim pattern across the arena's floor. The lights seemed to dim further, centering even more on the looming match.
Tomura, now deeply engaged in conversation with a cluster of elegantly dressed guests, seemed to have momentarily forgotten their presence. This gave Katsuki a brief respite to situate himself and Eri.
Finding a slightly secluded corner, Katsuki gently lowered Eri onto a plush couch. He sat beside her, his eyes still scanning the room, ever vigilant. "You okay?" he asked softly.
Eri looked up, her eyes clear and bright. "Yes. I'm used to all this. But... thank you for being here."
Taken aback by her maturity, Katsuki looked down at her, unsure how to talk to children. "Your dad told me a lot about you," Katsuki admitted.
A small smile played on her lips. "And he's told me about you. Said you were... stubborn."
Katsuki snorted, a hint of a smirk forming. "Sounds like him."
After a pause. Eri looked around, her gaze settling on the cage. "It's brutal," she murmured, "but Daddy's strong."
Katsuki looked down at the young girl, sensing the layers of her resilience. "He is," he affirmed, "and we're going to get both of you out of here."
Eri played with a loose thread on the hem of her dress, her fingers nimble and delicate. "You know," she began, glancing up at Katsuki with those perceptive eyes that seemed too old for her years, "Since I moved back in with Uncle Tomura, I've been hearing him... arguing. It's always through the walls, always late at night. He's speaking on the phone, I think. I can't make out the words, but he's loud. It must be something serious if it has him that worked up."
Katsuki's eyes narrowed in thought. He hoped that was a good sign that Tomura's plans weren't going as smoothly as he wanted it. "Sounds like he's dealing with some issues." He mentally made a note to sneak into Tomura's office later. "Keep your ears open, okay? And stay safe."
Eri gave him a solemn nod just as the room's atmosphere shifted. The next fight was about to begin, and the air grew thick with anticipation.
Katsuki's focus tightened on the cage as Izuku stepped forward. Gone was the gentle, awkward man Katsuki had grown close to. Instead, he saw a sculpted warrior, every scar on his shirtless torso a testament to battles fought and won. Each muscle seemed to pulse with a latent power, and those familiar green eyes were now ice-cold and sharp. Every bounce on the balls of his feet exuded lethal intent. It was a transformation that took Katsuki off guard.
Facing Izuku was a mountain of a man, his sheer size making him imposing. A shaved head, the canvas of his skin painted with tattoos, drew Katsuki's attention. One in particular, a menacing serpent, started from the man's thick neck and slithered down his arm, its fangs ready to strike. His dark eyes, set under a heavy brow, stared back at Izuku with an equally predatory glint.
Whispers spread through the audience. "Bunny." someone murmured in awe. Izuku's reputation preceded him. The crowd's excitement built to a fever pitch, their restlessness clear as they eagerly awaited the face-off between the legendary fighter and his formidable opponent. Katsuki couldn't quell the unease simmering in his gut. This was not a spectacle; this was Izuku, about to engage in a brutal dance.
Katsuki's heart raced. Seeing Izuku, so the center of everyone's attention as he stood indifferent and fierce in that cage, was deeply unsettling. The thought of him getting hurt gnawed at Katsuki's insides.
As if sensing Katsuki's distress, Tomura leaned in, his voice dripping with feigned concern. "I do hope Izuku hasn't lost his touch since leaving us. It would be such a shame."
Katsuki's grip tightened on the armrest. The urge to retort bubbled inside him. However, before he could, Eri's voice, calm and unwavering, cut through. "Don't worry Uncle. My daddy will win. He always does."
Tomura looked momentarily taken aback, his smirk faltering. The room seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a dismissive laugh, Tomura turned away from his niece to rejoin the group, waiting for him to continue his conversation. Even with his nonchalant response to her words, Eri's confidence had struck a nerve.
Katsuki looked down at Eri, a grin forming on his face. "You sure know how to silence a room."
Eri's lips curled into a cheeky smile. "Like I said, Daddy taught me a lot."
Their shared moment of camaraderie was short-lived as the lights dimmed further, showing the commencement of the next match. Katsuki braced himself, aware that the stakes tonight were much higher than anyone else in the room realized.