Chapter Forty-Four
While I'd been tempted to ride the power lines to get to Hawks' agency faster, I hoofed it, trying to start off on the right foot, so to speak. My suitcase was heavy, but, slinging it over my back, it wasn't that bad, and soon enough I was there. I'd expected a themed building, but instead it was just an eight-story structure, the top three levels with inset verandas, and the top two floors smaller than the ones previous in a pseudo-pyramid.
So you can land from flying I realized, the building only a few stories higher than the others around it, with taller ones nearby, but the verandas made for small, if viable, landing strips. Walking inside the lobby, there were a few small shops, a café, and a small restaurant, the entire building not dedicated to heroing like I'd first thought.
Ambling over to the front desk, where a security guard sat, I pulled out the form Aizawa had given me, identifying me and what I was doing here. "Hello, which way to the Hawks Hero Agency?" I asked, holding out the paper.
The guard took it, looking it over, and nodded, handing it back. "Take that elevator up to the sixth floor. Didn't expect you to get an offer," he commented, jerking his head in the direction of the lifts behind him. I raised an eyebrow. "Not that ya aren't good enough, but, well, you'll see. Actually, nevermind, ya fit. Go ahead, kid."
Unsure, I did so, seeing that the elevator only went up to sixth floor. The doors opened, and I walked out into a bustling office, and understood exactly what the guard meant.
That's a lot of bird-people.
Looking around, everyone seemed to have some kind of bird-like feature, from full wings, to hair made of feathers, to bird-claw fingers, to one person that just looked like an anthropomorphic bird, even more than Tokoyami, tapping at a keyboard with its feathers, seemingly lacking any actual hands.
"You lost, cutie?" A woman, probably in her mid-20's with feathered arms asked, pausing to smile at me, holding a packet of papers.
"No, I'm here to see Hawks?" I asked, more than said, holding up my form.
The woman blinked, before nodding. "Oh, right, you! This way!"
Following her, she lead me into a large room in the center of the building, almost hollowed out, with landings and doors on the floors above, but lacking any stairs. Holding the papers, she leapt into the air without breaking stride, flapping her arms to go up onto the top floor, before turning around, eyes widening as she realized what she'd just done. "Sorr-"
Looking around, I turned my legs to lightning and leapt, using just a trickle of OfA, throwing an arm upwards to grab onto the edge of the ledge and letting all of my limbs switch back, pulling me high. My landing was a little awkward, the weight of the suitcase throwing off my center of balance, and unable to keep going to bleed off my momentum. "So, in here?" I asked, gesturing towards the door.
The woman giggled, nodding and walking inside, leading me down a couple hallways. "So, you're Kaminari Denki, right?" she asked, oddly stressing the words.
"Last time I checked," I shrugged, the door at the end of the hall opening, seemingly on its own, and she gestured for me to go inside.
"See ya around," she smiled, back to whatever she'd been doing as I walked inside of a decently sized office. It wasn't ostentatiously large, just roomy, the entire back wall a series of windows that looked out onto Fukuoka. It also wasn't filled with trophies, or anything like that, almost spartan but without the cold feeling that design often elicited.
Seated at a large desk, crimson wings prominent, was Hawks, almost looking bored, though he perked up when he spotted me. "Ah, you're here," he smiled lazily, motioning towards the two chairs in front of his desk. "Take a load off."
"Thank you, Sir," I replied formally, sitting, bowing slightly in my chair, trying to make a good impression. "And thank you for taking me on as a student."
"Hey, hey, no need for that," he waved. "Re- lax."
"Oh, okay. Um, thanks for having me on, man," I said instead, leaning back in my chair and smiling. "Wasn't expecting it, but, hey, this is pretty awesome."
The Pro hero blinked, "That was fast. I like it. So, Denki, you mind if I call you Denki?" I shook my head no. "Denki, you know why I made you an offer?"
"Because you recruit bird-people, and I flew during the sports festival?" I shrugged.
The Pro froze, and I wondered if I'd said something offensive by accident. He did say I didn't need to be formal, I thought, starting to panic a little, before the Hero chuckled, devolving into full laughter. "I mean, kinda," he agreed, wiping a tear away from his eye. "You know why else?"
"Because I did well, getting into the semi-finals," I offered, Tokoyami having done the same thing originally, and was then scouted by the man in front of me.
"That too," Hawks agreed. "What else?"
"... I... I have no idea," I replied, coming up blank.
The bird-man regarded me for a long moment. "The team you made for round two. Walk me through why you did that."
"They were all my friends, and I knew their capabilities," I answered easily. "Mina, the acid user, is naturally quick, and leaves a trail that'd trip people up, so she needed to go in the back. Momo, the creation Quirk user, had electric skates she could create for speed, and can create things from anywhere, so she didn't need both her hands free to do it, so she went in the other back corner. I can move fast, but my Quirk comes from my body in every direction from where I use it, so I needed my hands free to reach out to avoid shocking my teammates, so I went in first, and could handle things in front of us since I didn't have to reach backwards with the harnesses we were wearing keeping us together."
"And the pink haired girl?" Hawks asked. "The other pink-haired girl?"
"Mei could've used skates, like Momo, but she's the one that knows how to use all the things the two of us have made, so it made sense for her to be up top," I explained.
"And so you put her above you," Hawks mused, and I finally understood what he was getting at.
I shrugged, "It's where she could do the most good. Making them carry me, yeah, I could've still reached out and shocked people, but it would've slowed us down, and we were there to win, nor for me to look good."
The Pro Hero gave me a significant look, and I nodded to show I understood his point. "And that's reason three," the winged man said. "Now go ahead and suit up. We're going flying."
Bakugo checked the address, to make sure he'd gotten the right place. Yep. Building at the edge of Sapporo, in the Chuo Ward, Mt. Moiwa in the distance behind it. It was away from the action, not where he'd expect the number 47th hero to be, but, looking over area, it looked defensible. Nothing right next to it, which would mean a clear line of fire, but those things went both ways, and if that was actual glass in the windows he was fucking Deku.
Stalking forward up to the gates, he glanced at it, seeing the hidden bars that could shoot forward, blocking it off, and nodded to himself, feeling better about his decision. He'd had an offer from the number 32nd, but that bitch looked like a complete pansy, and he was here to get stronger, not to learn how to make extras like him, which was that guy's entire thing.
Walking down the path towards the front door, he looked over the lawn, seeing bits here and there were the grass didn't quite match. It all looked the same kind, but some parts were shorter than the rest. Torn up? he thought, wondering if this place had villain attacks like they'd had at the USJ.
That thing... that thing still pissed him off. A bunch of F-list wannabe villains had jumped them, but not before splitting them up. Yeah, he'd dropped the trash that tried to kill him, but they'd dropped him off on the other side of the place from the action. He wanted to believe that it was because they were scared of him, wanted him as far away as possible, but they'd been trying to kill All-Might, and had a way to do it, too, if it weren't for Deku, Pikachu, and the others. He knew he was strong, but he wasn't All-Might strong.
Yet.
No, there'd been a fight, and he'd not been a part of it. He was sure, in the Sports Festival, he'd be able to show how strong he was. And he did. At first. He'd lost the race, but only 'cause Deku and Sparkplug got their girlfriends to help 'em. The fact that it meant that Deku had come in second had almost made up for it, and had been damn funny, in retrospect.
The second round had been good too, but, again, he hadn't won. Deku had.
And the third? Where he was gonna show everyone just how strong he really was?
Taken out like a bitch.
And Deku?
Deku had fucking won.
The boy had always been useless. Only, now he wasn't.
There was more to the shitty nerd's story about being a 'late bloomer', but Bakugo had looked it up, and that did happen. He'd almost believe it, but the damn nerd was one of the worst liars he'd ever met, and there was something else going on. Something with All Might.
"Ya need something, or ya gonna stand around lookin' like your 'bout to shit yourself?" someone asked, and Bakugo looked up, having walked inside without meaning to. Glancing around, the inside of the building looked comfortable, with rugs on the ground, and a seating area, but nothing looked fragile, and if you sent the rugs to get steamed, you could clean this place of pretty much anything pretty quickly. "So, cat got your tongue?" the girl behind the front desk was tall, and muscular, wearing a short sleeved shirt, her arms covered in a thin layer of striped fur, nails that extended over the ends of her fingers like claws, and a pair of cat-ears sticking up out of her orange hair.
"Here to see Shishido. Tell him Bombing King's here," Bakugo replied, meeting her slit-eyed gaze with a glare of his own.
"Bombing King?" the girl laughed scornfully, ears twitching. "Big name for a little boy."
It was obvious bait, the type that Einstein had grabbed him with, so rather than explode Bakugo just sneered back. "Could kick your ass, shitty-kitty."
The girl leaned forward, growling, "What'd you just say, kid?"
Grinning, Bakugo leaned in right back. "I said I could take ya. What's wrong? Got hairballs in yer ears?"
She stood, hands curling, "Oh you're so fuckin' dea-"
On the desk an intercom chimed. "Tigra, send Bakugo up."
The cat-girl clenched her fists and glared at the explosion specialist, before pointing off to the side. "Elevator. Top floor. Second Right. End of the hall," she ground out.
Bakugo grinned in victory, walking past her, calling over shoulder. "Thanks, Tigger."
"Kill. You," she growled back, before sitting down and pretending he didn't exist, her ears still twitching in agitation.
Finding his way there, Bakugo found a heavy door. Unlike the others it was made of a dark red wood and carved in designs that almost looked tribal, definitely looking pretty fuckin' awesome. Opening it, the room inside was large, but comfortable looking, and crossing the threshold, he couldn't help but feel like he'd just entered the lair of something dangerous.
Grinning to hide the feeling of fear that prickled down his spine, he focused on the man sitting behind the desk at the far wall, seat offset so he wouldn't have his back to the window or the door. The room itself was warm, a fireplace burning opposite of the desk, and the entire place was filled with decorations. Striding in, Bakugo glanced at them, trying to figure them out, and while they had the same kind of tribal feel as the door, the things they were made of seemed weird.
Shishido, the Lion Hero, and the Pro he was interning under, sat, with the relaxed 'you aren't enough of a threat to care' posture he'd seen from cats, but with their same quiet readiness they had in case something did happen. The muscled man's blond hair stuck up in all directions, a bit like the mind-controllers, but while that dick looked tired, Shishido just looked wild. Something that was emphasized by the black mask that covered the bottom of his face, showing an animal's jaw full of clenched white teeth. He was wearing a black, form-fitting t-shirt, the top covered with an enormous mane of yellow-brown fur from the bottom of his neck outwards and covering most of his chest. On top of that were another set of enormous teeth, the bottom set sitting on his pecs, on top of the fur, while the top half was on his back, as if his entire head was just a giant pair of jaws.
The man's eyes indicated the chairs on the other side of his desk, and Bakugo took one. Rather than let the other man set the pace, Bakugo asked, "Why'd'ya pick me?"
The Pro gave him an unamused look, as if to say 'I know what you're doing, you aren't that smart', but before Bakugo could speak again, the lion man replied, his voice a low, calm growl, "You're strong."
Bakugo nodded. He was, so it was good this guy recognized that.
"You're driven," the hero added.
Again, Bakugo nodded. Any idiot could coast on a strong Quirk. Just look at Icyhot. Or Deku. Though the Shitty Nerd had obviously been training. Finally.
"You're an arrogant asshole with anger issues."
The explosion teen started to nod, before the words registered, and he surged to his feet. "The fuck you just say to me!?"
The Pro hero's look was almost patronizing. "Did I stutter?"
"Fuck you, I'm not arrogant! I can back my shit up!" Bakugo yelled.
A single eyebrow was raised. "First. Round. Knockout."
"How the fuck was I supposed to know he could fuck with my head?" the teen defended.
The Pro watched him, waiting, and looked back at the seat. Bakugo stood, standing, because fuck this asshole, that wasn't an answer! But the man said nothing, until the teen eventually sat, glaring. "You have a beef with the green-haired kid. That happens. Then Endeavor's kid. And the kid who copied powers insulted you. Fine. But you didn't watch the others."
"There were a dozen teams! And Forty different assholes!" Bakugo groused, understanding the man meant he should've scouted out their powers in the second event, but his defense sounded weak, even to his ears. No, it sounded like fucking whining, and he scowled, looking down, glancing back up when the other man spoke.
"Fair," he admitted. "Then you charged a foe with no idea what their power was. Arrogant."
"So what?" the teen blustered. "You blow up most things, they go down."
Shishido regarded his intern. "What rank you want when you go Pro? Three hundred? Two hundred?"
Bakugo frowned at the topic change. "Fuck that shit, I'm gonna be the best!" The Hero chuckled. "Somethin' fucking funny, Furry?"
"Something so stupid I had to laugh. First psychic Quirk you ran into, you folded like a cheap table, and you're gonna be the best? Don't make me laugh," the man sneered, but still with the same calm indifference, which was really starting to piss Bakugo the fuck off.
"You think I'm so shit, then why'd you offer me a spot?" the explosion teen demanded. "Just to tell me how much I suck? 'Cause I hear enough about that from my fuckin' mother."
The lion-man smirked, mostly hidden behind his mask, but the way his face moved made it clear. "No, I'm here to make you better. 'Cause, kid, you remind me of me."
"Like hell," Bakugo scoffed. "You tellin' me you were an 'arrogant asshole with anger issues'?"
Shishido nodded. "You know what my Quirk is?" he asked, Bakugo caught off guard at the sudden topic change again, and shaking his head no. "It's Primal. I get stronger, but it gets harder to control myself the more I push it. If I max it, I might be able to throw down with All Might, but I'd be nothing but a beast. I thought I had control of it, but I didn't. Your Quirk doesn't mess with your head, but you have the same shitty attitude I had."
"So, what, you try not to use it? You scared of your power or some shit?" the teen challenged the calm looking man. "Cause you don't seem that-"
The Pro launched himself out of his chair, leaping for Bakugo, hands outstretched, and it was all the teen could do to try and get his own hand forward, to try and form an explosion, but the man was too fast, knocking his hand aside, the blast doing nothing as Katsuki was tackled to the floor. It was over in an instant, the man's hand around Bakugo's throat, with one of his arms pinned underneath him, the other man's hand holding his wrist out and away, a knee on the boy's stomach in a way that was almost painful, but controlled.
"Tell me. Do I seem powerless?" the Pro growled, and this time it carried an undercurrent of rage that caused Bakugo to freeze. Carefully thinking about his options, Bakugo couldn't see a way out. He could set off a blast underneath him, but he'd fuck himself up, and this asshole'd probably just ride it out. He'd barely seen the man fucking move, and it was over.
Slowly, the Bombing King shook his head.
And then he was let go, Shishido picking the teen up by the back of his shirt like he weighed nothing and dropping him down on his feet, even though he was barely taller than Bakugo was.
With slow, languid steps, the pro moved back around his desk, picked up his fallen chair, and boneless collapsed back down into it, once more relaxed, but ready.
"F-Fuck man, what the fuck!?" Bakugo, shaking a little, sputtered. If this was an actual fight? If someone like that'd been at USJ? He'd be fuckin' dead. Everyone in their class would've been. 'Cept for maybe Icyhot, and Deku, and even then, their chances sucked.
Shishido indicated Bakugo's fallen chair with his eyes, and the teen, hands a little unsteady, picked it back up, put it back where it was supposed to be, and sat in it. "Clearing something up," the Pro finally replied. "You think you're as strong as me. Right now, you're not. You think we're equals. Right now, you're not. You think I should be happy you're here, putting up with your shit. Right now, I'm doing you a favor. I don't expect you to be grateful. I wouldn't've been, back then. But you will listen when I talk, 'Bombing King', or I'll show you that being the king of the concrete jungle beats your explosive little tantrums until you learn."
The Pro shook his head. "You think you're hot shit. For your age, you are. But real life doesn't compare you to your weight class. It doesn't compare you in your specialization. It says, win, die, or get lucky enough to survive. You lost to something you didn't expect. It happens. Now, you gonna let your fear rule you? Yell and scream? Or you gonna get better, and win next time?" he asked, throwing down the gauntlet.
"Last day, I want a rematch," Bakugo finally demanded. "Me in costume vs. you. Like we fought when I was out patrolling, or called in, or some shit. I don't give a rat's ass if I win or lose; I gotta see how I match up when I'm ready."
"Life doesn't care about when you're ready," Shishido growled, but nodded. "Was gonna do that anyways. Anything else you want to say?"
Bakugo thought about the man in front of him, about how he could've ended up with some 'talk through your problems' dipshit, and couldn't help but grin. "When the fuck do we start?"
AN: As always, the next three chapters are up on .