Katsuki stood in the ballroom, glass of wine in hand, his eyes scanning the crowd with disinterest. The dim lighting flickered across the crystal chandeliers overhead, casting a cold glow on the finely dressed guests that milled about, unaware of the darker undercurrents running beneath this estate. He'd rather be anywhere else—somewhere quieter, somewhere less crowded—but playing this part was necessary.
The wine was shit, bitter on his tongue. He hadn't come here to enjoy the luxuries, though. He swirled the liquid idly in the glass, the weight of the small device in his coat pocket grounding him as he kept his gaze focused on the large double doors at the entrance. Izuku should be arriving soon, leaving the business in the pink level behind.
When the door finally opened, Katsuki's eyes narrowed. Izuku entered, posture stiff but composed, his face an unreadable mask. It didn't take a genius to know he was still running on pure adrenaline. The tension coiled tight in his shoulders, but from a distance, he appeared calm, like he always did in moments like this—cold, professional. Only Katsuki would notice the subtle signs of strain in the tightness of his jaw, the way his eyes flicked around the room, searching for something or someone.
Izuku moved toward him with purpose, his movements sharp yet graceful, cutting through the crowd without a second glance at anyone. Katsuki didn't need to speak as Izuku reached him; they had already agreed to keep it quick and discreet.
"The documents?" Izuku asked, voice low and controlled.
Katsuki set his wine glass on a nearby table and casually pulled the device from his pocket. It was small, compact, and inconspicuous—easy to slip unnoticed into Hawks' hands. He handed it over without a word, their fingers brushing briefly, a simple reminder of the trust between them despite the tension that now lingered in the air.
Izuku didn't linger either. He tucked the device away, not breaking his mask for even a moment as they made their way toward the far side of the ballroom, away from prying eyes. Hawks stood near one of the large windows, positioned just out of sight, his back to them as he feigned interest in the view outside.
"About time," Hawks murmured when they reached him, his smile half-hearted as he kept his attention outward. "Was starting to think you two were enjoying yourselves too much to remember the job."
Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn't engage, his focus remaining sharp as he kept an eye on the room. Too many people. Too much noise. He hated places like this, where everyone wore a mask that didn't quite hide the real threats lurking beneath.
Izuku was the one to speak, his voice quieter now as he glanced toward the device Hawks quickly stowed in his coat. "Momo will know what to do with the pictures. Todoroki can handle any legal follow-up."
"And the pink level?" Hawks asked, still keeping his casual demeanor but with the slightest edge to his tone. "Did you find anything else? More evidence?"
Before Izuku could respond, Katsuki stepped in, his mind drifting to Kirishima's earlier clue. "Forget the pink level. Kirishima mentioned something about a traitor with a scar. An informant tried reaching out to him before getting jumped. We need to find that guy to get into the black level."
Hawks turned to them now, his expression losing some of its ease. "A scar, huh? And you think you can find this guy?"
"That's the plan," Katsuki replied curtly. "If we get to him, he'll help us get into the black level. It's the only way."
Hawks nodded, a slow smile creeping back onto his face. "Always straight to the point, aren't you?" He glanced toward Izuku, who had been scanning the room with narrowed eyes. "Think you can pull that off?"
Izuku's gaze locked on something—or rather, someone—across the ballroom. Katsuki followed his line of sight, his stomach tightening when he spotted Kaina. She was standing near the far end of the room, her tall, lean figure impossible to miss. Their eyes met across the distance, a silent exchange that spoke of familiarity. Katsuki clenched his jaw, already bracing himself for what was coming.
"We'll speak to her," Izuku said, his voice steady but firm. "If anyone knows the identity of that informant, it'll be Kaina."
Katsuki didn't like the way she held Izuku's gaze for too long, but he bit back the irritation rising in his chest. This wasn't the time to lose focus.
"Go," Katsuki muttered under his breath. "Find out what she knows."
Izuku gave a brief nod and made his way toward Kaina. The two met near the edge of the ballroom, where the music softened into something slow and smooth. Without exchanging a word, Izuku took her hand and led her into a dance, their movements seamlessly blending into the flow of the other couples on the floor. They kept their bodies close—closer than Katsuki liked—as they moved to the rhythm of the music, heads leaning in to speak quietly, hidden beneath the guise of a dance.
Katsuki's grip tightened around his empty glass, his eyes glued to the pair as they glided through the dance floor, too close for his liking. He couldn't hear their conversation from where he stood, but he didn't need to. The sight of them alone was enough to leave a bitter taste in his mouth and a heaviness in his gut.
"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Katsuki," Hawks said, his voice laced with amusement as he leaned casually against the wall next to him.
"Shut up," Katsuki growled, not bothering to look away from the pair. His mind warred between wanting to drag Izuku away and reminding himself they were here for a mission. It wasn't like this was new—Izuku had always had this way of keeping things just out of reach, no matter how close they got. It gnawed at him more than he'd ever admit, and the sight of Kaina in his space wasn't helping.
He forced himself to look away, focusing on the plan instead. They needed Kaina's information, and Izuku was the best one to get it without causing suspicion. But knowing all that didn't make it any easier to watch.
When the dance ended, Izuku stepped back, exchanging a few more words with Kaina before turning and making his way back toward Katsuki. The moment he returned, the weight in Katsuki's chest lightened just a bit. But Hawks, ever the smug bastard, shot him a knowing look.
"You okay there?" Hawks teased, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
Katsuki ignored him, eyes flicking back to Izuku as he reached their side. "What did she say?"
Izuku's expression was as cool as ever, his voice low but precise. "She knows who we're looking for. It's a man named Jin. She's going to have Dabi track him through the security cameras and bring him to us."
Katsuki nodded, already calculating their next steps in his head. Before he could ask for more details, Hawks chimed in, his tone shifting from teasing to serious. "And how are you planning to bring him in without suspicion?"
Izuku didn't miss a beat. "We'll let Kaina handle that. She knows how to move without raising alarms."
Hawks studied him for a moment before nodding, seemingly satisfied. "Alright. I'll get this information to Momo. You two stay on standby."
With that, Hawks gave a small wave and melted back into the crowd, leaving them to wait for Kaina's signal.
The moment he disappeared, a silence settled between Katsuki and Izuku, the hum of conversation and soft music filling the space around them, but none of it reaching Katsuki's mind. He wasn't focused on the ball anymore. He wasn't even focused on the mission at this exact moment.
His gaze shifted to Izuku, who was scanning the room with the same calm intensity he always had. But Katsuki's thoughts were far from calm. They were scattered, irritated, and most of all, frustrated.
Kaina had been his right hand. She knew Izuku in ways Katsuki never would. The words echoed in his head, the bitterness bubbling up, no matter how much he tried to shove it down. He hated that Kaina understood sides of Izuku he hadn't seen himself, and the worst part was that Izuku seemed completely comfortable around her—more at ease than he ever was with Katsuki.
That thought stung.
"Were you and Kaina close?" The question slipped out before Katsuki could stop himself. He wasn't looking for a fight, but he couldn't stand the silence. Couldn't stand not knowing.
Izuku paused, his eyes flicking to Katsuki with a cool, calculating glance, as if weighing how much to say. Then he shrugged, as if the answer wasn't that big of a deal. "She was my right hand. I trusted her deeply. I still do."
Katsuki's stomach twisted. There it was again, that weight of knowing that Kaina had a level of trust with Izuku that Katsuki still hadn't managed to earn fully. He wanted to scoff, brush it off as nothing, but the truth lingered there, heavy and suffocating.
Izuku trusted him—he knew that—but there was still a line between them. A wall Katsuki couldn't tear down no matter how many times they touched or shared a bed. It was like he'd reached one side of Izuku, but the rest was locked behind something Katsuki didn't have the key to.
He clenched his fists, frustrated not with Izuku, but with himself. He knew this wasn't the time to be thinking about this, especially with everything going on. But damn it, he hated that it gnawed at him. He had promised himself patience—he knew why Izuku was reluctant, why he kept a distance. He'd sworn not to push.
But sometimes, the waiting wore him thin.
"You okay?" Izuku's voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. He glanced over, seeing the faint crease of concern in Izuku's otherwise composed face.
Katsuki forced himself to relax, unclenching his fists. He wasn't going to drag this into the open now, not when there was so much shit going on. Not when they had bigger problems to deal with. "I'm fine," he said, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.
Izuku didn't press, just gave him a lingering look before nodding. "Let's head back."
They left the ballroom together, the tension from earlier still buzzing between them but left unspoken. Katsuki's thoughts wouldn't settle as they made their way back to the room. It wasn't that Izuku didn't care—he knew that. They'd been through enough together to know there was something between them, something real. But Katsuki wanted more than just the physical side of their relationship. He wanted all of Izuku, wanted to break through that barrier that still held them apart.
But now wasn't the time. He knew that. He just hated that it was always hanging over them, unresolved.
When they reached their room, Katsuki shut the door behind them with a sigh, the silence of the room pressing in around them. Izuku was already checking his phone, tapping out a message to Dabi for an update. Katsuki leaned against the doorframe, watching him, the tension still knotting in his chest.
Moments later, Izuku's phone buzzed with a reply. He glanced up at Katsuki, his expression serious again. "Dabi's found him—Jin Bubaigawara. But he's not alone. We'll have to wait until Kaina can get him on his own and bring him here."
Katsuki nodded, pushing off the doorframe and running a hand through his hair. More waiting. More time to sit with his own thoughts. He was getting sick of it.
It wasn't long before Kaina returned, Jin Bubaigawara in tow. The door to the room creaked open, and Katsuki's eyes flicked up as Kaina nudged the man inside, unceremoniously pushing him down into a chair. Jin stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet before collapsing into the seat, looking like he wanted to disappear into the floor. Kaina's hand remained firm on his shoulder, her presence looming over him as she gave Izuku a slight nod, signaling the job was done.
Izuku stepped forward without hesitation, his expression cold and unreadable as he towered over Jin. Katsuki stayed off to the side, watching the scene unfold in silence. There was a sharpness to Izuku now, a side Katsuki had only glimpsed before but never seen fully unleashed. This wasn't the same Izuku who stumbled over his own words back in the day—this Izuku was calculated, dangerous even.
"Jin Bubaigawara," Izuku began, his voice low and measured, sending a shiver through the room. "We need access to Tomura's Black level."
Jin's eyes widened in fear, and he shook his head, stammering. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but I-I can't do that! The security down there—it's insane! Toga and Shuichi will—"
Before he could finish, Kaina's grip tightened on his shoulder, forcing him back into the chair when he tried to rise. The movement was quick, precise, reminding him of exactly who was in control here. Jin's face paled as he sank further into the seat, his eyes darting around the room, clearly desperate for a way out.
"We know you'd been in contact with Kirishima," Izuku continued, his tone unyielding. "You were planning to betray Tomura, weren't you?"
Jin's face turned a sickly shade of white. He swallowed hard, visibly shaking now. "I-I didn't—" He started to deny it but trailed off under the weight of Izuku's unwavering gaze. "Mr. Kirishima said—he promised I'd be safe. But if Tomura finds out…"
"They won't find out if you help us," Izuku cut in, his voice sharp, leaving no room for argument. "It's not much. You'll use a camera and mic to record everything you see in the Black level. We'll get what we need without anyone suspecting you… or I can out your to Tomura and gain his trust that way."
Katsuki stayed back, his arms crossed as he watched Izuku work. It was fascinating, in a way, seeing how easily he controlled the conversation, backing Jin into a corner with nothing more than his words and the cold promise of consequences if Jin didn't comply.
It was effective—brutally so—but it unsettled Katsuki just the same. This wasn't the Izuku he was used to seeing, the one who fumbled over emotions and second-guessed himself. No, this version of Izuku was ruthless, calculated, and in complete control of the situation.
And it was… impressive. A part of Katsuki couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for how far Izuku had come, but another part of him—one that didn't speak up too often—felt a twinge of unease.
Jin stammered, still clearly on edge. "But what if—what if they catch me? Toga's always watching, and Shuichi…"
Izuku leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "They won't catch you. We'll make sure of it. Kaina will get the equipment to you, something small enough to slip by unnoticed. Do your part, and you'll walk away from this in one piece."
Jin looked terrified, practically shaking in his seat. And Izuku didn't care—at least, not in the way he usually did.
Izuku was about to press further when Katsuki stepped forward, placing a hand on Izuku's arm, a silent signal to ease up. Izuku paused, glancing at him but not pulling away. Katsuki met his gaze evenly, his grip firm but not forceful.
"That's enough," Katsuki muttered before turning his attention to Jin, his voice firm but steady. "If you help us, we'll keep you safe. Kirishima promised you that, and as his partner, so do I."
Jin blinked, his gaze flicking between Izuku and Katsuki, uncertainty and fear still etched across his face. "How do I know you're telling the truth? Did you betray your partner?"
Katsuki pulled out his phone and after a quick text to Kiri he called him. The line rang for a moment before Kirishima's voice came through, calm but determined. Katsuki put the call on speaker.
"Jin," Kirishima's voice echoed through the room, grounding the moment. "You're gonna be okay. We'll protect you. Just trust us, alright?"
There was a pause, and Jin exhaled shakily, the tension slowly leaving his body. "Alright… alright. I'll do it. Just… don't let them kill me."
Katsuki nodded again, his grip on Izuku's arm loosening as he turned back to Jin. "We won't. You'll be safe."
Jin's shoulders slumped in relief, but the tension in the room remained thick, the weight of what they were planning pressing down on them all. Katsuki could feel the mix of relief and tension brewing in the air, the knowledge that this was only the beginning of what was to come.
They weren't out of the woods yet. Far from it.
