Chapter 4: Pieces of the Puzzle

By: MakeThisFun

The briefing room at the Hero Commission headquarters was dimly lit, the soft glow of the holographic map casting long shadows across the walls. Bakugou leaned against the table, his arms crossed, glaring at the map with thinly veiled impatience. His mind was still buzzing from the mission—the rush of the fight, the tension with Akiyama, and the gnawing frustration that had been simmering inside him since they'd walked away from that cramped hallway.

Across the table, Akiyama Yui sat with her back straight, the same calm expression on her face that she always seemed to wear. Her eyes flicked over the map with a sharp focus, as if nothing from the mission had phased her in the .

The rest of the team gathered around the table—a mix of analysts, intel operatives, and a few other heroes, all waiting for Akiyama and Bakugou to share what they'd uncovered. Shimizu, the Commission's liaison, stood at the head of the room, his arms crossed as he observed the two of them with that irritatingly calm expression of his.

"Let's go over what you've gathered," Shimizu said, his tone professional but firm. "What's the next move?"

Bakugou clenched his fists, his irritation bubbling to the surface. "We've got the location," he growled, his voice sharp. "A safe house. That's where they're holding the VIP. We can hit it now, take them all down."

He could feel the weight of Akiyama's gaze on him, but he didn't turn to meet her eyes. He was too wired, too impatient. He needed action, not more of this tedious the details, let's just get on with it.

"We can't just rush in without more information," Akiyama said, her voice steady, cutting through Bakugou's frustration. "There are likely more players involved than we initially thought. We need to assess the situation first."

Bakugou scowled, his temper flaring. "We know where they are. That's all we need. I can blow the whole place to hell and be done with it."

"You don't even know how many people are inside," Akiyama shot back, her tone sharp but controlled. "We can't risk the VIP getting caught in the crossfire."

The tension in the room thickened, the air practically crackling with the charged energy between them. Bakugou hated this part—the waiting, the talking, the analyzing. He was built for action, for taking down enemies with raw power, not for standing around and debating strategy.

But Akiyama wasn't backing down. She never did. And that only made him more furious.

"We're not here to argue," Shimizu interrupted, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "We need a plan that balances both of your strengths. Bakugou's right—we can't afford to hesitate. But Akiyama's right, too. We need to approach this carefully if we want to avoid casualties."

Bakugou's fists clenched tighter, his jaw set in a hard line. He hated the fact that Shimizu was siding with Akiyama—even if only partially. He knew his way was the fastest, the most efficient. But every time Akiyama spoke, it was like she was one step ahead, always countering his impulsive nature with calm, calculated reasoning.

Akiyama leaned forward slightly, her eyes never leaving the map. "Based on the intel we gathered from the target, the safe house is likely being guarded by more than just the two we encountered. We need to figure out how many players are involved before we make our move. Otherwise, we're walking into a trap."

Bakugou shot her a glare, his irritation flaring again. "Tch. You want to keep waiting while they keep planning? We're wasting time."

Akiyama didn't react to his anger. Instead, she pointed to a section of the map, her voice calm and methodical. "The safe house is in a heavily populated area. We need to consider the civilians in the surrounding buildings. If you go in guns blazing, you'll cause collateral damage. We can't afford that."

Bakugou opened his mouth to argue, but Shimizu held up a hand. "Enough. We need both of you on the same page here. Bakugou, your approach is effective, but we can't rush this. Akiyama, you've gathered the intel we need, but we'll need to move fast once we have confirmation of the VIP's location."

Bakugou clenched his jaw, the tension between him and Akiyama thick in the air. He hated the way she could always counter his arguments so smoothly, hated the way she always seemed to be one step ahead in these situations. But even he couldn't deny that she was smart. Smart enough to get them this far without blowing their cover.

Still, it didn't make it any easier to swallow.

Shimizu turned to Akiyama. "What's your next move?"

Akiyama's eyes flicked over the map, her brow furrowed in thought. "We need eyes on the safe house before we make any moves. I'll send in a drone for surveillance, gather a layout of the building, and assess the threat level. Once we have that, we can coordinate an infiltration plan."

Bakugou bristled, his fists clenching at his of this slow, methodical approach that drove him crazy. He wanted to act, to feel the rush of combat again, to let his quirk loose and end this already. But instead, he had to sit here while Akiyama played it safe.

"Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth. "But we're not dragging this out."

Akiyama glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "We won't. But we'll do it right."

Bakugou scowled, pushing off the table and pacing toward the far side of the room. His mind was racing, every instinct in his body screaming at him to act, to stop wasting time. But he knew he couldn't afford to go rogue on this. Not when there was so much at stake.

"Bakugou." Akiyama's voice cut through the silence, calm but commanding.

He turned to face her, his eyes narrowed. "What?"

Her gaze was steady, unwavering. "We'll get them. But we need to do this smart. We can't afford mistakes."

He hated how calm she was, how she always seemed to know exactly what to say to diffuse the situation. But deep down, a part of him knew she was right. He just didn't want to admit it.

"Tch. Whatever," he muttered, his voice low.

Shimizu turned back to the team. "Akiyama, coordinate the drone surveillance. Bakugou, you'll be on standby for the assault. Once we have the intel, you'll move in."

Bakugou's fists tightened at the prospect of waiting even longer, but he forced himself to nod. He'd follow the plan—for now. But once they were in the field, all bets were off.

As the team dispersed, Akiyama stayed behind, her gaze lingering on the map for a moment before she glanced over at Bakugou. He could feel her eyes on him, and it made his blood boil even more.

"You did well," she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

Bakugou scowled. "Don't patronize me."

Akiyama raised an eyebrow. "I'm not. You followed the mission, and we got what we needed. That's progress."

Bakugou's jaw clenched. He hated the way she could always get under his skin, always manage to stay calm and composed while he was ready to blow. But there was no denying it—they had the intel, and now they were one step closer to taking down their targets.

Akiyama walked past him, her shoulder brushing against his briefly as she moved toward the door. "Get some rest. We're going to need you sharp for the next phase."

Bakugou didn't respond, his body tense as she disappeared from the room. He stood there for a moment, the echoes of their conversation still buzzing in his head.

As much as he hated it, they were starting to work together. And that realization made his skin prickle with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn't quite place.

With a low growl, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked out of the room, his mind already racing with thoughts of the coming mission—and the next time he'd have to deal with Akiyama Yui.


The hallways of the Hero Commission headquarters were quiet, the hum of activity from the debriefing room fading as Bakugou made his way toward the exit. His mind was still churning, every part of him itching for action, for something to let loose the energy building inside him. The waiting, the planning—it drove him up the wall. But Akiyama's voice echoed in his head, calm and measured, reminding him that patience was part of the game.

He hated that she had this effect on him. Hated how her steady presence seemed to challenge his every instinct, keeping him off balance. She was too calm, too collected, and it infuriated him that she never seemed rattled. Even when they'd been pressed together, surrounded by danger, her heart hadn't skipped a beat.

Who the hell is she, really?

He made his way outside to the training grounds behind the building, hoping a few rounds with the punching bags would clear his head. But as soon as he stepped into the open air, he spotted a familiar figure already there.

Akiyama Yui stood near one of the sparring dummies, her back turned to him. She was out of the formal attire she'd worn for the mission, now dressed in a loose, sleeveless top and black training pants. Her hair was tied back in the same high ponytail, but this time, there was no pretense—no calm, composed act. She moved with fluid precision as she threw a series of sharp, calculated punches at the dummy, her eyes locked on her target.

For a moment, Bakugou just watched, surprised by the intensity in her movements. This wasn't the controlled, professional hero he'd seen in action earlier. This was something rawer—something real.

She didn't notice him at first, too focused on her training to sense his presence. Her fists connected with the dummy in quick, powerful bursts, the sound of each impact echoing across the empty training grounds. There was a tightness in her expression, a flicker of something in her eyes that Bakugou hadn't seen before.

Anger. Frustration. Or maybe something deeper.

He didn't realize he was staring until she stopped, her breath coming out in short, controlled bursts. Slowly, Akiyama turned, her sharp eyes locking onto him.

"Bakugou," she said, her voice even but tinged with a hint of surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, his scowl deepening as he leaned against the nearby fence. "Could ask you the same thing."

She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, her posture relaxing slightly but not enough to mask the tension in her frame. "Blowing off steam," she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "What about you?"

"Tch. Same," Bakugou muttered. He couldn't help but notice the shift in her demeanor—the calm exterior cracking just enough to reveal a hint of the frustration she usually kept hidden.

Akiyama turned back to the dummy, her fists clenched at her sides. "I figured you'd already be resting up for the next phase," she said quietly, almost as if she was talking to herself.

Bakugou's eyes narrowed. There was something different about her, something that wasn't there when they were in the field. She wasn't the cool, composed hero now. She was something else—something that intrigued him, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Don't tell me you get frustrated too," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're always so damn calm."

Akiyama let out a sharp breath, her fists tightening. "I have to be."

The words hung in the air between them, heavier than Bakugou expected. He straightened slightly, his curiosity piqued. She wasn't just some calculated hero playing everything by the book. There was something more going on here.

"Why?" he asked, his voice low, more serious than before. "What's your deal?"

Akiyama hesitated, her eyes flicking to the ground for a moment before she looked back up at him. For the first time, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—something real. Vulnerability, maybe. Or something close to it.

"My quirk," she said quietly, her voice losing some of its usual sharpness. "It's… complicated."

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. He hadn't seen her use her quirk during the mission, and now that he thought about it, she'd been unusually careful not to mention it. He hadn't asked—mostly because he hadn't cared—but now, standing here with her, he couldn't help but wonder.

"Complicated how?" he asked, his voice rough but less combative.

Akiyama hesitated again, her hands loosening slightly at her sides. "It's not like yours," she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. "It's not something I can just use without consequences."

Bakugou frowned. He didn't know much about her, but he'd heard rumors—whispers that Akiyama Yui's quirk was powerful, but dangerous. Something that had made her rise quickly through the ranks of the hero world, but had also made her keep a low profile.

"It takes a toll," she continued, her voice quiet but steady. "Physically and mentally. If I overuse it, I can't control it."

Bakugou's frown deepened. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't this. He'd always assumed she was just another hero trying to keep things neat and tidy, too afraid to get her hands dirty. But now… now he saw something else.

"So you don't use it unless you have to," he muttered, piecing it together.

Akiyama nodded, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Exactly. I've learned to control it, but… there's always a risk."

Bakugou let out a low growl, pushing off the fence as he stalked closer to her. "That why you keep playing it so safe? Why you don't let loose?"

Akiyama's eyes flicked up to meet his, a sharpness returning to her gaze. "I don't have the luxury of being reckless. Not when there's so much at stake."

Bakugou stopped a few feet away from her, his fists clenched at his sides. He hated this feeling—the uncertainty, the way Akiyama's words made him question things he usually didn't give a second thought. But there was something about her, something in the way she spoke, that made him pause.

She wasn't just playing it safe for the sake of it. She was doing it because she had to.

"I'm not afraid to fight," Akiyama said quietly, her voice firm. "But I can't afford to lose control. Not when people's lives are on the line."

Bakugou's scowl softened, just slightly. He didn't want to admit it, but he understood. He knew what it was like to have power that came with a price. His own quirk was dangerous, destructive, and if he didn't control it, people got hurt. He'd learned that lesson the hard way, over and over again.

"Tch," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Doesn't mean you have to hold back all the time."

Akiyama's lips twitched into a faint smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Maybe not. But I've learned to pick my battles."

Bakugou studied her for a moment, his mind still racing. He didn't know what to make of this—this side of Akiyama he hadn't seen before. She was still infuriating, still the person who got under his skin, but now there was something else. Something that made him… respect her. Even if he didn't want to.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, the tension between them less charged but still there, lingering just beneath the surface. It wasn't the same kind of tension as before—the kind that made him want to tear into her with words or fists. It was something quieter, something more complicated.

Finally, Akiyama broke the silence. "We'll finish this mission," she said, her voice steady again. "And when we do, I won't hold back. But until then… we need to stay smart."

Bakugou clenched his jaw, nodding once. "Fine. But when we get to that safe house, you better not slow me down."

Akiyama's smile widened just a fraction, a glint of amusement returning to her eyes. "I won't."