
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11693637.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      僕のヒーローアカデミア_|_Boku_no_Hero_Academia_|_My_Hero_Academia
  Relationship:
      Bakugou_Katsuki/Midoriya_Izuku, Kaminari_Denki/Kirishima_Eijirou
  Character:
      Bakugou_Katsuki, Midoriya_Izuku, Kaminari_Denki, Kirishima_Eijirou
  Additional Tags:
      Reincarnation, Alternate_Universe, Age_Difference, Magic, Fantasy, Angst,
      Angssssstt, Mutual_Pining, Minor_Character_Deaths, bakugou_is_depressed,
      Kaminari_Is_Clueless, Kirishima_Tries_To_Be_Supportive, Deku_Just_Wants
      The_Perpetual_Angry_Man_To_Notice_Him, Characters_Still_Have_Quirks,
      Demons, Mystery
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-03 Updated: 2017-11-17 Chapters: 2/16 Words: 15933
****** Ad infinitum ******
by Stars1Are1Metaphors
Summary
     Bakugou would do it over and over again until he got it right.
Notes
     i really like poems.
***** If *****
                     Whose woods these are I think I know.
                     His house is in the village, though;
                       He will not see me stopping here
                     To watch his woods fill up with snow.
                      My little horse must think it queer
                       To stop without a farmhouse near
                       Between the woods and frozen lake
                       The darkest evening of the year.
                                        
                      He gives his harness bells a shake
                       To ask if there is some mistake.
                       The only other sound's the sweep
                         Of easy wind and downy flake.
                     The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
                         But I have promises to keep,
                        And miles to go before I sleep,
                        And miles to go before I sleep.
                                ~ Robert frost
                                        
                                       …
                                       …
                                       …
                                      ...
                                        
                                        
Year 2017
…Beepbeep… Beepbeep…
Bakugou backhanded the alarm clock perched at the head of his futon with
startling speed, arm crackling with the sudden movement and fingers snapping
back. The shrill sound cut off as it shattered upon impact with the thin wall
of his one room apartment, leaving a rather large indent in its wake.
Bleary eyed, he stared at the chunks of red metal and gray plastic scattered
across his floor, springy wiring leaping out and adding to the mess on his
discolored carpet. The last remnants of a perfectly useful instrument which had
cost Bakugou a shit ton of money, when taken into account that he didn’t have a
lot of it to spend anyway, had just been blown into bits and pieces simply
because it’d snagged him out of another night of insomnia justwhen he had
managed to get some shut-eye. Fuck him. Bakugou sighed. That thing was
expensive too.
‘’Fuck,’’ he grumbled under his breath, annoyance flaring as he forced himself
onto his hands and feet, trying to kick his body up and into his tiny bathroom.
Bakugou dragged a hand across his sleep addled face, fingers scratching his
three day old scruff as he stumbled his way through his room, bypassing the
empty take-out boxes and forgotten t-shirts in a path he knew by heart. He had
only been in this apartment for two weeks (and in Japan a short week longer),
but Bakugou was more than accustomed with his own messy habits and unsavory
lifestyle that keeping hard breadcrumbs and sticky sauces from splotching his
torn socks—as if he needed anymore filthy clothes—was a pretty easy endeavor on
his part.
It should be around seven in the morning. That gave him about thirty minutes to
get ready before Shitty Hair arrived with their new recruit.
Bakugou flicked the light switch on once he entered the bathroom, taking his
spot in front of the sink in order to wash his face and brush his teeth. The
mirror up ahead was cracked around the edges, a courtesy from the neighborhood
Bakugou had found himself in. And what was supposed to be a pristine cut of
green glass, was covered with traces of greasy fingers and dried up imprints of
water drops… a courtesy from the kind of being Bakugou had become.
He hadn’t slept in what felt like years, and perhaps it had been exactly
that—years. Bakugou couldn’t tell. He had lived for too long to properly
understand the passage of time, muddled as the years became as he grew older,
and the dark, deep shadows underneath his red glare were his testimony. His
skin looked sallow and felt rough and papery, he was so pale, it almost
appeared as if he would disappear into the background if he stopped moving for
just a second and his usual spiky, golden white hair looked dull and unkempt.
He wasn’t satisfied. Bakugou was far from satisfied. He might not be human, but
he needed sleep like anyone else, goddammit.
And well, with it also came the fact that Bakugou was a, for a lack of a better
word, bum.
Or to be exact: Bakugou was a broke-ass bum who lived off scrapes, and
rested—or whatever accounted for rest to someone who couldn’t even sleep—inside
vermin invested apartments, fed on calorie abound fast food and take-out meals
and dressed and looked like he hadn’t showered in days, which for a matter of
fact, was true, because the jobs he got didn’t pay well. Bakugou was tight on
cash and water was a waste of it for a guy who couldn’t die.
He cleaned up quickly, brushed his teeth and didn’t bother shaving off his
scruff because it took too much time. It wasn’t as if he could fix his unruly
expression even if he did. At least his scruff would take away from his
bloodshot eyes and sunken eye bags. Give his face that little edge it needed.
With a towel in hand, Bakugou walked back into his small living room while
drying his wet face.
His small table had been folded and pushed aside to make space for his futon.
Because his room was so tiny, Bakugou couldn’t fit both at the same time. Japan
was known for its one tatami rooms; cheaper than most, sliding doors that
separated the kitchen and bathroom, and flimsy walls that did little to keep
any sounds from leaking out… or leaking in. But it was better than nothing,
Bakugou reckoned, regardless of how mediocre his living arrangements might be.
Bakugou was not looking to camp out on the streets again.
Bakugou kicked away several of boxes. Pulling up his foot once a cockroach sped
from beneath one of them on its way to the closest and darkest shelter it could
find, which happened to be right underneath Bakugou’s foot considering he had
aptly squashed it upon first sight. There goes one sock, he thought, and it was
one of the few clean ones too. Unperturbed, Bakugou toed through the array of
clothes and left-over meals on the ground until he found what he was looking
for. Over there, in the middle of a swamp of stacked lunchboxes and chewed up
chopsticks sat his flip phone, a measly little thing that had seen better days
but worked adequately nonetheless. Discarded on the night before.
If Bakugou recalled correctly, he had a couple of drinks yesterday. Or a lot,
he wasn’t counting. Bakugou had ended the night in his apartment with his
responsibilities in a trash heap and cold ramen inside his belly and come
morning, he was forced to dust himself off, pick it back up again and spin it
into shape. The nights were especially harsh. There wasn’t anything or anyone
around to keep his thoughts at bay and a job did little to quench his thirst,
that pressing desire or that hollow ache in the root of his infallible
existence and though it almost seemed quaint, the way they followed him into
the dark, but Bakugou had never had anything stick to him quite as tenacious as
the darkness of his own mind. In retrospect, going on a job early morning
wasn’t half as bad as it looked like.
Bakugou flipped his phone open and was confronted with a set of new text
messages. Two. And all from the same guy Bakugou could really do without.
 
Shitty Hair
Sent at 06:45 AM
omw
 
Shitty Hair
Sent at 07:05 AM
got some breakfast bagels for u too. who’s the best?
 
He narrowed his eyes at the light of the screen, half with the mindset of going
outside and buying himself something to eat just to show what he thought of
Eijirou Kirishima’s unwanted kindness.
Kirishima was a… peculiar guy that Bakugou had spent the better part of his
time in Japan attempting to avoid, but their respective jobs—Kirishima as the
Informant and Bakugou as the Broker—had them crossing paths, what with the way
Kirishima was somewhat of a top dog at their station here in Japan. Moreover,
few were unaware of the tacitly knowledge that Katsuki Bakugou only worked with
the best, and while Kirishima was an annoying presence eighty-eight percent of
the time, a sharp toothed rascal with a heart the average person wouldn’t
expect from a demon of his size, he was indeed, one of the best, in his field.
If only he wasn’t so up in Bakugou’s grill like a hungry hellhound chasing a
fresh blood trail all the time, Bakugou could learn to tolerate him a little
more.
Alas, here they were, a strained partnership at best—a term Bakugou used
loosely—while he rounded up his set of assignments in Japan, took care of the
missions that required his immediate attention and reported back to his base
like the dedicated soldier he was. Bakugou never settled in one place for too
long, couldn’t bring himself to tidy up a house and not a home or hold on to
something as shaky as camaraderie when Bakugou had slippery fingers.
Even so, Bakugou couldn’t really afford to burn through his low money supply no
matter how hard he wanted to prove a point. And he washungry. He flipped his
phone closed and buried it in his pocket after checking if he had any missed
calls and when he’d ascertained he had none, went to fold his futon back, store
it out of the way and take out his folding table. They weren’t going to sit on
his sleeping mattress, no-fucking-way.Who knew what kind of flees Shitty Hair
or the new guy had? Kirishima definitely looked like the type of guy to scour
through abandoned basements and unsanitary buildings in order to collect vital
information for any given job. He wasn’t one of the best for no reason. He went
out; hardened himself and stormed in full throttle with the sole intent of
bringing back something of worth to his comrades. Rather than intelligence, it
was Kirishima’s ability to hunt down any information with little regard of self
that got him so high up the ranks. It wouldn’t surprise Bakugou if he’d caught
something nasty along his way.
Then again, Bakugou let his gaze travel along his messy apartment, the garbage
stinking up the room, the unwashed clothes here and there and well… it’s not
like it could get any worse than this either. And really, who was heto
complain? He curled a shoulder up to his nose, taking a whiff of his gray
hoodie and immediately retracting back as the stale scent of crummy clothes hit
him hard. Right. Hadn’t showered yet.
He was just as bad.
Probably worse.
But Bakugou just... didn’t like being aroundanyone. It gave him the creeps.
Made him feel as though someone was poking at the void inside his chest and the
lingering weight on his mind. It wasn’t a good feeling. Remembering, sucked
too, because of all the memories Bakugou had, he still hadn’t found the
strength to think back on that one.
Feeling uncomfortable all of the sudden with a throat too tight for his liking
and hands catching the jitters, Bakugou tried distracting himself by pulling up
the most recent folder added to his collection inside the lonesome wooden
drawer in the corner of his room. A stack of documents were shoved in
carelessly, but arranged in chronological order of date so Bakugou could pick
them apart easily. He took a seat next to the drawer and occupied himself with
reading in on his newest job. Not that it was necessary. Bakugou always read up
on anything that came his way so he knew what he was dealing with. Right now,
however, Bakugou needed some distraction in the form of work.
This mission was as complicated as it could get for a demon of Bakugou’s
stature, and even in his case this specific job was harder than most. He leaned
his shoulder against the scratched up wood, scrolling attentively through the
papers as he took in the elaborate building plan of the Kantei,the office of
the Prime Minister of Japan and at the same time the place where the current
Prime Minster, Rojiya Yonenaga, would be present in. The object of Bakugou’s
mission.
Bakugou heard a sudden rapping on the door. His eyes slithered over, briefly
contemplating if getting up was even worth it, but knowing it had to happen
sooner or later, shoved the documents to the ground and towed himself forward.
A short peek through the peep hole gave Bakugou an eye-full of red, spiky hair.
The one demon Bakugou had dreaded seeing, had shown up. Begrudgingly he
unlocked the door, didn’t bother casting his visitors a proper glance and
stalked back to his place at the wall.
‘’And hello to you too!’’ Shitty Hair perked up, fleetingly glancing back at
his companion as he jutted his chin toward the door and wriggled the paper bag
in his right hand. The—who Bakugou assumed to be—new recruit acknowledged the
offhanded sign and closed the door before he awkwardly began trailing behind
Kirishima, eyes wide and bridge of his nose crinkled. ‘’Watch your step,’’
Kirishima quickly threw over his shoulder while he easily stepped over clothes
and strewn garbage. ‘’Don’t worry about the mess either. I’ve seen this place
in a way worse condition and I’ve know this guy for less than a month,’’
Kirishima laughed.
‘’I—I know. You’ve said that already, but… this is a little… or a lot…’’ The
guy, Bakugou finally cared to look at, seemed wholly uncomfortable, and when
their eyes actually met, flinched as he stood several of feet away, tightly
pressing his arms against his sides. ‘’Sorry,’’ he peeped, realizing that
thrash talking an owner’s house right in frontof said owner wouldn’t do him any
good. He had a black thunderbolt stripe in his chin length sun-kissed hair and
a goofy look on his face that Bakugou likened to someone who was constipated.
He instantly decided that he despised the new guy.
‘’Don’t glare at him like that, man,’’ Kirishima quipped up from the side,
looking around the room for a place to sit. With the bag in hand, he trudged
over and dropped Bakugou’s bagels on top of his lap. ‘’You’ll scare him off.’’
‘’Fuck off, you fucker,’’ was Bakugou’s reply as he grabbed the paper bag and
dug in. Making sure to glare even harder at Thundershitand his dunce looking
face as he tore off a fresh bite of his warm meal.
The new recruit appeared as if he were debating whether to dash out of the door
and pee his pants all at the same time.
‘’The least you could’ve done was send a message back, you know, Bakugou?’’
Kirishima walked toward the unfolded table and took a languid seat, legs
outstretched and arms laid out flat, supporting him. ‘’Didn’t know whether you
wanted plain bagels or bagels with butter. Maybe both? Hey, Kaminari, come take
a seat. Just shove the mess aside so you don’t stain your clothes.’’ One of his
hands was placed on an empty, plastic plate and Kirishima flicked it away
aimlessly.
‘’Oi,’’ Bakugou barked, eyes narrowed into slits and crumbs tumbling down his
sweater as he paused eating. ‘’And who in the hell gave you the right to touch
my shit, you motherfucker?’’ Let alone make himself comfortable in Bakugou’s
abode without Bakugou’s damned permission. That pissed him off the most. And
truthfully, where Bakugou was concerned, one strike was already three
strikes.‘’You’re here for a reason, ain’t you? Hurry the fuck up and stop
wasting my time.’’ He wolfed down the rest of his food before brushing the
crumbs off and dusting his mouth with a quick sweep of the back of his hand.
‘’Shouldn’t we introduce ourselves first? His name’s Denki Kaminari, in case
you were wondering. New to the game. Pretty good side-kick, in my opinion.’’
Kirishima tried, not unaccustomed to Bakugou’s one-track mind that left little
room for negotiation.
Bakugou hiked up an eyebrow, blankly staring at the Informant while a vein
popped in his neck displaying his gnawing irritation. ‘’Do I look like I care
about Thundershit over there, you asshole?’’
‘’Evidently not.’’
‘’Then get on with it already!’’
Shitty Hair sighed and shot his wary comrade an apologetic glance. ‘’Fine,
relax,’’ Kirishima muttered. He sat up properly, putting his game face on as he
intertwined his fingers on top of the table, appearing to age where he sat.
‘’Remarks aside then, as all of you know, today we’re dealing with a delicate
matter. We’ve got the Prime Minister on our hands, a high profiled figure, so
we have to work with care.But I’ve gotta say… makes me excited just thinking
about what we’re about to do next,’’ Kirishima wiggled a little in his spot.
Rojiya Yonenaga was one of the most richest men in their country, easily
claiming a place in the top fifty wealthiest people in the world. He had
climbed up the ranks from an average politician to the most influential one
here; a small time guy with big dreams, but Yonenaga wasn’t a very smart man
and he lacked leadership and strength to accomplish what he so greatly desired.
However that didn’t stop Yonenaga from chasing his dreams and cross borders no
man dared set foot at. Where Yonenaga lacked in ability, he made up for with
passion.
And passion could make any man desperate,Bakugou thought silently.
‘’He’s the one, yeah?’’ Dunce Face piped up from his small corner in the room,
still hesitant to come any closer lest he awaken Bakugou’s dormant fury.
‘’Yup,’’ Kirishima quipped. ‘’That’s the man who sold us his soul.’’
‘’And it’s our job to collect the payment,'' Kaminari stated, recalling his
lessons.
Shitty Hair nodded his head in answer, before he spoke. ‘’Ten years ago Rojiya
Yonenaga made a deal with a Greater Demon. His soul in exchange for the
position as the head of the government of Japan. The deal was made for ten
years.’’ Kirishima shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘’And time’s up. Ran out
like an hourglass. I’ve looked into where he’ll be today, as all of you know,
and he’s got a meeting in the Kanteithis morning. To make sure everything runs
smoothly, I think it’s a good idea if we run the plan over. While you,
Kaminari, are new here—sorry we can’t have a welcoming party, but maybe drinks
after, okay?—you’ll be observing more or less. Although I’ll need you for one
little thing during the job, it’s still really up to Bakugou, our main man over
there, to drive the hammer down.’’
‘’You mean, Bakugou—err—san—is going to be the one to kill him, yeah?’’
Bakugou shuddered at the suffix. Gross.
‘’No,bro,’’Kirishima responded, shaking his index finger in apparent
dissatisfaction. ‘’It’s not killing if his life belongsto us. Killing is such a
harsh word, by the way. Sounds like we’re stealing something. You can’t fault a
vendor for demanding his money from his purchaser, right? It’s only fair.’’
‘’Don’t try to make it sound prettier than it really is, you fuckface,’’
Bakugou snarled from the side, eyes narrowed angrily. ‘’You can sprinkle
dandelions on shit, but it’ll still smell like shit.’’ Then he sighed and rose,
scratching the side of his scruff as the scowl on his face deepened. It wasn't
as if Bakugou thought it was a big deal... just call it for what it was. Don't
turn any punches. It won't change the truth, only bury it. ‘’A life’s a life
and a job’s a job,’’ Bakugou recited from a past he could no longer reach, eyes
turning vacant. ‘’If you brood on work like a fuckin' pansy, you won’t be able
to go through with it.’’
‘’Woah.’’ Kirishima’s eyes almost seemed to sparkle after Bakugou's brief
monologue, quickly adding, ‘’Hear that? A demon among demons, right there!
Always so inspirational. I told ya. Dude just gave me goosebumps, I swear.’’
‘’He sure is,’’ Kaminari chuckled nervously.
‘’You’ll learn a lot from this one, man. I sure have... Anyway, now that we’ve
got that cleared up, let’s go over the plan one last time… Kaminari, your quirk
is electricity, right?’’
That made Kaminari pause as he raised a thin eyebrow up to his teammate. ‘’Ah,
yes… why?’’
Shitty Hair’s sharp teeth gleamed in the synthetic ligthening of his house and
in the corner of his eye, Bakugou could see their new recruit’s Adam’s apple
bop up and down restlessly. Anticipating the worse. ‘’ 'Cause... I want to
start a fire.’’
                                       …
                                        
Yui Kodai wasn’t a demoness with lavish desires.
Kodai liked sitting in front of the television with a hot cup of green tea
warming up her hands while she watched her favorite TV shows on cable. The
modern world had upped its creativity and entertainment had advanced into
skyrocketing numbers, but Kodai enjoyed every single second of it. And sure,
Yui was a creature of the night—born and raised in the bosom of Lilith’s
descendant—and yes, she did live longer than most people, but she had wants and
needs and Kodai didn’t believe being a demoness made those desires any less
valid than those of a human’s.  
She worked her butt off to earn her bread; made a living risking her life to
deliver crucial information that could very well change the fate of the world,
and she was very good at her job too. People appreciated her reserved nature,
her quiet disposition and seemingly undetectable presence, because the chances
of anything leaking from her mouth was as close to zero as possible. Her nature
also made sneaking into remote places a lot easier.
And that was why, the current task at hand couldn’t have been given to anyone
other than Yui Kodai. Kodai understood her worth and honestly felt proud
knowing that she wasn’t the only one. Despite how badly Kodai would rather be
cooped up at home, lazing it out on a Tuesday morning, Kodai wasn’t about to
mess this highly secretive mission up.
Especially not when she had finally made a break through.
Standing in front of a stoned cavern on top of the peak of a grassy mountain,
Kodai closed her eyes and allowed herself to become conscious of her own body;
the skin on her bones; the way it stuck to her and felt warm, the blood running
diverging pathways through her veins and the air filling up her lungs, feeding
her starved organs with much needed oxygen—and then she began to minimize, as
if she had unhooked a tentative switch within her core. Shortening down to a
compact pocket size that could easily slip through small, visible cracks in any
tangible and large object.
The front of the cavern appeared to have no full body-sized gapes, being
completely veiled with large stones that could have stretched to who knows how
far, but that didn’t matter. Kodai’s inherent abilities could easily work
around this little obstacle as long as she shrunk down. That was why Kodai was
perfect for this job. That was why shewas chosen for this job. No closed off
spaces could keep her out, because Kodai would just minimize and slip right
through.
Swallowing a deep breath and about to venture into an unknown cave, Kodai
summoned all of her courage before starting ahead.
Kodai was clad in a skin tight, protective garment that offered resistance to
the sharpest items known to mankind. It didn’t protect her against the brunt of
physical attacks, but it kept her skin uncut and warm.
Steadily, Kodai began climbing the rocks. In her present size, it was like
climbing the mountain all over again, watching her footing and placing her
hands on all the right, protruding edges she could find. It was going to take
her some time before she managed to reach the slight gape above her head about
the diameter of a keyhole and a lot of sweating until Kodai found herself in
the deepest part of this enigmatic cave. But if she lucked out, she might make
it home in time for her next Telenova.
                                      ...
‘’You keep all of this here?’’
‘’It makes for a good base.’’
‘’It’s a gym locker room,’’ Kaminari deadpanned.
‘’It’s mygym locker room,’’ Kirishima retorted with a huff.
Kaminari looked around. It reminded him of his earlier years in high school, of
the muff stench of unclean lockers, smudged old benches and fresh perspiration.
While Kaminari had quickly ascertained that his instructor and current partner,
Kirishima, was a pretty cool and laid-back demon, he wasn’t so sure about his
choice of secret bases. 
‘’No one comes here,’’ Kirishima resumed while wringing open one of the locker
doors furthest away from the entrance. ‘’I own the place. It’s completely safe.
Trust me.’’ Kirishima pulled out a large black sports’ bag and unzipped it,
revealing three tailored suits that left Kaminari dumbstruck. If every
experienced Informant had enough money to spent on Armani made suits with
popped up collars, Kaminari might have to rethink his dream as a Broker.
‘’I know right?’’ Kirishima said once he caught sight of Kaminari’s wide-eyed
stare, reading his silent appreciation in record time. Kirishima curled two
fingers around his own chin, a smug look transforming his face. ‘’With this we
won’t look out of place in the Kantei. I’ve got our security passes at the go,
too. Right here.’’ Kirishima poked at a small duffel bag tucked in the side of
the sports’ bag. ‘’A demon comes prepared in every situation. Note that down,
Kaminari.’’
‘’Senpai!’’ Kaminari exclaimed, theatrically grabbing Kirishima’s left hand and
holding it in his own, much to the surprise of the red haired demon. A tremor
of renewed excitement shot through Kaminari. ‘’I know you said you had
everything ready, but you’re even more amazing than I’d guessed.’’
Kirishima laughed awkwardly, a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he scrubbed
the back of his head. ‘’Well, ya know, sometimes I try.’’
At least this was great, Kaminari thought happily, feeling like a million
bucks. Kaminari had started his day thinking he would have the greatest time
working along this district’s best Informant and the acclaimed Katsuki Bakugou,
a prime time demon warrior and a beast practically a tale of legends. While
Kaminari had an inkling that Bakugou wasn’t like how he used to be, because of
the rumors running amok in the underworld and though Kaminari had heard a lot
of speculations about his species’ top hero’s personality traits, Kaminari
still believed nothing could erase that everlasting glory he had the pleasure
of hearing about during his years in the demon academy.
But that was how he felt before he’d actually seen the infamous Katsuki
Bakugou.
Kaminari nervously glanced back at the demon in question. Bakugou stood between
the door opening, leaning against the rim with arms crossed and sharp, red eyes
glaring into the distance, completely uninterested in either of them to the
point that it stung. The air around him was poignant—fiery—as if just his
breath could have burned right through the thickest metal available, while his
countenance held something archaic; an imposing ambiance of which traces could
only be found in seasoned demons.
Bakugou seemed intimidating without doing anything besides standing there.
Kaminari cringed a little as goosebumps darted over his skin. How could someone
look so cool andscary at the same time? Bakugou was not at all like the rumors
Kaminari had heard back when he was still in the academy trying to become a
demon worthy of serving his dying kind. Sure, Bakugou had the aura of a battle
hardened warrior down, what with those bulking pecs and strong jaw framing his
shape, but Kaminari didn’t expect that package in the form of an unconventional
hobo.
Finishing second to last in his class, Kaminari knew he wasn’t a smart guy.
Even his inherent abilities had a nasty after-shock that left him momentarily
stupid and paralyzed and entirely vulnerable to his enemies’ attacks. When that
happened, Kaminari had to be baby-sat and no matter how bad Kaminari tried to
make everyone believe he was alright, he was acutely aware of the fact that no
one actually thought he was. That sucked big time, since Kaminari hated
troubling his comrades. Hated that a lot.
He wasn’t some damsel in distress. Kaminari was a warrior too.
That was why Kaminari couldn’t believe his luck when his former teacher offered
to put in a good word for him with his longtime friend Eijirou Kirishima, allow
Kaminari to get the training he needed in order to develop as a demon. It was
even more surprising that Kirishima approved, for reasons Kaminari didn’t know,
let alone that theKatsuki Bakugou had agreed to let Kaminari in on the fun too.
Unfortunately, when some things appeared too good to be true, they probably
were just that. Too good to be true. Something he had to learn the hard way.
‘’Ahem,’’ Kirishima cleared his throat, prying Kaminari’s fingers off with a
gentle hand as he turned to face his opened bag, kneeling on the tiles in order
to rummage through his things. ‘’Anyway… Make sure you keep your clothes clean,
this goes for both of you! Stained clothes can smudge up the camera, since I
had Hatsume knit in one with a voice recorder. On this screen,’’ Kirishima
pulled out a tablet from underneath the clothes and pointed at the flat, clear
expanse that was currently black, ‘’we’ll be able to see what everyone’s up to.
So, in case you need any help, just howler—but not literally—because that would
inadvertently tip people off of our presence and ruin what's supposed to be a
secret mission, but you know what I mean, yeah? Just give a sign? Anyone
available will swoop right in. Don’t worry about metal detectors and the like
either, Hatsume's got us covered on that too. It’s not made out of metal, but
rubber.’’
‘’Rubber?’’ Kaminari asked, frowning slightly.
‘’Yeah, sick right? It bounces back up when you touch it. Wanna feel?’’
Kaminari took him up on his offer and knelt beside him, reaching toward the
collar where Kirishima had placed his thumb on. Kaminari pressed down and felt
something springy underneath his fingertip. ‘’Woah.’’
‘’Right? Cool, huh? She’s good with stuff like that. You’ll work with Hatsume a
lot by the way. She’s the best in her field.’’
‘’I see.’’
Kaminari was surrounded by all kinds of amazing demons. It felt surreal.
''I'll bring in a suitcase. Nothing too fancy. I'll be keeping the tablet in
there.''
‘’Ah!’’ He gave Kirishima a wary glance. ‘’Maybe Bakugou-senpai wants to
look?’’
‘’You can drop the suffixes,’’ Kirishima told him. ‘’He doesn’t like it.’’
Crap, had Kaminari been pissing Bakugou off without knowing? He cringed again.
‘’Don’t worry too much about it.’’ Kirishima, ever the alert, said while eyeing
his wary expression with a friendly smile. ‘’He might seem like a hard ass, but
he’s… well, he is a hard ass, but he won’t actually hurt you or—err, he might
actually hurt you, but he’s not that bad deep inside... Deep inside… Very, very
deep inside. I promise.’’
Somehow, Kaminari wasn't too convinced. Just to be on the safe side of things,
he'd tread lightly.
‘’If… If you don’t mind me asking,’’ Kaminari lowered his voice into a soft
whisper that Kirishima could only hear by bringing their heads together, a
hairsbreadth left between their faces. ‘’But can you tell me why he’s like
that. You know, like…’’
‘’A gross hobo?’’ Kirishima’s voice matched his in volume, barely above a sigh.
‘’Well, yeah… I mean, I’ve heard rumors, b—but I don’t just believe everything
I hear! I can’t believe everything I hear, because some of the things they say
are really… bad.’’
‘’Even by demons’ standards, you mean?’’
‘’Even demons have values...’’
‘’That’s right,’’ Kirishima smiled, something akin to satisfaction flitted in
his eyes as he regarded his new comrade quietly. Eventually, Kirishima
looked away and stared at his hand in the bag. He seemed to be testing the
words in his mouth, hesitant to speak about the enigma that was Kaminari's
violent senpai. Sighing, he said, ‘’Bakugou... is what you’d call a lone wolf.
The sort who doesn’t need a pack to survive.... You know how they say the lone
wolf without a pack dies?’’
Kaminari frowned as confusion and curiosity surged through him. That sounded
way too ominous for his liking. Dread began filling him almost instantaneously
while his gaze swooped across the breadth of his partner's face, analyzing his
sharp features as though the answers were there, printed in bold lines. He was
about to ask Kirishima what he meant when he was suddenly cut off with a loud
bark.
‘’Are you two fuckers done whispering among yourselves or do I need to drag
your faces across the pavement as a wake-up call?’’
The new recruit peeped anxiously and straightened his back like a keyed machine
whose buttons were just pressed at random.
‘’Let’s get ready.’’ Kirishima patted Kaminari’s tensed shoulder and Kaminari
was left to watch Kirishima stand up as his own mouth remained frozen around
words unsaid. ‘’He’d probably really do it if we don’t hurry up.’’
Kaminari paled.
Yeah, he wasn’t worried about facing an untimely death by the hands of his
senpai. At all.
...Not.
                                       …
                                        
Passing through the front gate was easy. The security cards Shitty Hair had
provided were registered aliases, so once Bakugou pressed his card against the
little scan on the automatic system of the gates, the doors beeped and came to
life. Spreading its glass wings open and granting him entrance into the
spacious, white marbled government building that held his next target.
Instead of his usual appearance, Bakugou looked clean and pragmatic in his
black, formal dress pants and suit jacket of the same color. His scruff was
light as it flaked his jaw, giving him a hint of sophistication, and his unruly
mass of icy blonde strands were slicked back with gel, parted down the middle
to give him the flare of a businessman on his numerous day of work still trying
to look the part.
Kirishima and Kaminari were behind him dressed in the same attire, flocking
together in a group of two. It wasn’t unheard of. Bakugou’s entire surroundings
had politicians and businessmen alike conversing amongst each other in a group
while they walked toward their destinations. Some had cups of coffee in their
hands and a briefcase in the other, another one was busy fixing his tie as he
rushed to the nearest elevator, chased down by a colleague in the same
predicament. Bakugou also spotted two businesswomen speaking to each other
right in front of the reception desk they were passing by, concentration on the
subject at hand, world news that had their mouths buzzing a mile a minute.
It was a normal day.
And as far as everyone knew, nothing out of the ordinary was supposed to
transpire today.
They stepped into the elevator with two other people. Bakugou was going to get
out on the fourth floor while the two stooges were stepping out on the top
floor where the distribution box could be found. Bakugou was used to seeing
that particularly electricity supply system on the last floor, but the
Kanteihad upped for a new approach that would soon become its downfall. The
building plan Kirishima had gotten his hands on was very useful.
It wasn’t Bakugou’s first time disguising himself, and sneaking into buildings
required little of his efforts. Calmly, Bakugou stepped out on his floor
without giving his fellow demons a look and moved to the secretary desk at his
left side, quietly bypassing people on his way.
‘’Excuse me,’’ Bakugou began, voice grave. Yonenaga’s secretary looked up from
her computer. ‘’I'm here to see Yonenaga-sama. I have an appointment.’’
The woman’s eyebrows twitched. ‘’I—is that so.’’ Slightly on edge because of
Bakugou’s scowl, the woman caught herself stuttering. ‘’T—that’s strange. He
has a meeting in fift—‘’
‘’You can check his schedule.’’ Bakugou swallowed around the insult that
threatened to slip from his mouth, too easily irritated and it being a habit
uncontrolled. ‘’I’m in there.’’ He pulled out his security card and pushed it
across the desk.
The secretary grabbed the card and began typing down the name into her
computer, frown steadily deepening at what she found there. ‘’Takashi Yamamoto-
san… I see your name. My apologies, I must alert Yonenaga-sama beforehand.‘’
‘’I don’t care,’’ Bakugou retorted sharply. Flabbergast, the woman flapped her
mouth shut, watching him wide-eyed and a little frightened. ‘’Do I look like I
can wait while you fix yourstupid mistake?’’
‘’M—my—mistake—‘’
‘’You’re the secretary, aren’t you? Is it not your job to schedule all
appointments correctly?’’
‘’Y—yes sir, it is, but—‘’
‘’And now you want me to payfor your mistakes? Is that how business is done in
the Kantei?How regrettable. When I speak to the media about the negligent work
of Yonenaga-sama’s secretary,’’ he leaned it, eyes spitting fire as the woman
looked as though she was about to burst into tears. ‘’Do you think he’ll fire
you on the spot? I think he will.’’
‘’Please don’t tell him,’’ she peeped.
Bakugou huffed and the woman stiffened. Her fingers were balled into trembling,
fearful fists. Ah… Humans were so weak, Bakugou thought, as he watched her
struggle for words. Just a little glaring and they were ready to break. He had
her right where he wanted her.
Bakugou curled up his upper lip in a snarl, pushing himself off the desk as his
eyes looked down at her from above the tip of his nose. ‘’Maybe I’ll put in a
good word for you when I see him,’’ was his condescending response.
‘’P—please do, sir. I’ll make sure to never make the s—same mistake twice,’’
the secretary hiccuped.  
‘’Good. I’ll be going to his room now.’’
She nodded, too tongue-tied to speak to the imposing man in front of her. All
she could do was watch him walk away and toward the room at the end of the
hallway, praying that Yonenaga wouldn’t punish her for her slight slip-up on
his schedule.
It was a good thing most humans had the pesky nature of crumbling under
pressure. If she had called Yonenaga up before Bakugou could make it to his
door, Bakugou would be exposed in an instant. That woman might not have had the
courage to question the strange emergence of the appointment on the digital
schedule, but it would take more than some glaring and a couple of choice words
to fool a Prime Minister. It was a strange attribute only a couple of humans
possessed. Every now and then Bakugou would encounter a human with more spunk
than the average person, one with a less tighter grip on their in-built
survival mechanism that kept them on their tiptoes in front of a demon and they
would venture against him. Had a fire in their belly even Bakugou couldn’t
quench.
A spark so undeniably strong it left Bakugou weak at the knees.
...He blinked the memories away.
Bakugou knocked on the door and waited for the voice behind it to grant him
entrance.
He walked in and closed the door behind him, briefly scanning the room to make
sure they were alone, before focusing on the large desk in front of the door
where the Prime Minister sat with a quizzically frown on his face. The light
was dimmer where Bakugou stood.
Yonenaga was already reaching for his desk phone when he yelled, ‘’You! Who are
you?’’
And lazily, Bakugou flicked his hand, creating a small explosion that shot from
his palm to the telephone wiring, burning right through. The Prime Minster
gasped, eyes tracing the burst of fire as he pushed himself away from the desk.
The small sizzle of flames gradually expended its energy.
‘’Calm down, you bastard,’’ Bakugou drawled slowly. He put one hand into the
pocket of his suit jacket while the other was aimed at Yonenaga, piercing the
man with a withering glare. ‘’Unless you want a hole through your fuckin'
chest, I’ll advice you not to move.’’
‘’W—who are you,’’ Yonenaga managed from his lips, gripping the chair handles
tightly. ‘’What do you want? If it’s money, I can get you a lot of it.’’
‘’Guess.’’
‘’…I’m sorry?’’
Bakugou stepped into the ceiling light as he glowered down at the man, bearing
his front row teeth in a menacing spectacle. ‘’Guess who I am.’’
Yonenaga flinched at the sudden proximity, but he did as he was told. His eyes
slid all over Bakugou’s face, glanced at his outstretched hand and analyzed his
suit. It took Yonenaga more than a few seconds before a bell went off inside
his head and his eyes began clearing up with realization. It quickly turned
into a look of horror.
‘’Don’t tell me… You are…?’’
‘’That’s right,’’ Bakugou said, cupping his head up sideways, away from the
light. A shadow cut the side of his face ominously, left him half in the light
and half in the dark like the sun just as it went under and spilled auburn red
across the earth to remind it of its existence. ‘’Ready to pay your dues?’’
Yonenaga swallowed as his eyes flitted from Bakugou’s right palm to his face,
immediately understanding that his life was in danger. Just the slightest
movement could evoke the wrath of the creature in front of him. There was
nothing good to have at the end of that hand. ‘’W—wait… Please wait a moment.
Shit. Fuck!'' He trotted on flustered. ''I know why you're here, but I can’t
possibly go on without my soul, can I?! Can I live without my soul?’’
‘’You’ll die,’’ Bakugou said as a matter of fact. 
‘’Shit,’’ the man spat, eyes becoming panicky at the unflagging indifferent
face staring back at him as though the demon was waiting for his order of
fries. ‘’Shit,''  he hissed for a second time. ''Please hear me out. I know the
deal I had made was only for ten years, but I need more time—‘’
‘’Time’s up.’’
‘’Haven’t you seen what I’ve done?! How I’ve changed this country for the
better? I am this nation’s hero!’’
Leave it to a politician to hack up his alleged achievements to talk his way
out of paying his debts. Bakugou was not impressed.
‘’Do your underhanded dealings also come into play in your insignificant sob
story? Just curious.’’
That had the Prime Minister—or should Bakugou begin to say formerPrime
Minister—flinching. It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that the underworld
knew of the prime minister's money laundering business and secret dealings with
the yakuza. With its eyes anywhere and everywhere, there was nothing hell
couldn't see. Even so, hell wasn’t consisted of saints. Bakugou's never prayed
a day in his life and demons were demons for a reason, so whether Yonenaga was
a good man or a bad man, morality didn't matter to them. This was business; an
exchange, a case of getting what one has paid for, really, but Bakugou would be
lying if he said he didn't take silent pleasure in seeing castles fall down.
That there wasn't some underlying delight in seeing certain humans suffer.
He was a demon, after all.
‘’…I…I’ve done more good than a thing like you could ever understand!’’
Yonenaga yelled, foaming around his mouth in anger. ‘’I saved this country! I
followed my dreams and made this nation a better nation, and now you want to
lecture me? You! A demon? A monster.Who are you to talk about what is wrong or
right? Demons are nothing but evildoers. Monsters of chaos. Your hands have
brought forth more sorrow than I ever could! And then your kind feeds off the
chaos like lice on a stray dog... But me?'' He huffed. ''I restore chaos,’’
Yonenaga shook his head, eyes crazed as his sanity steadily began slipping away
from him. Blinded by power and greed as he was, the man was no longer able to
look straight. ‘’I am the light in this nation. You cannot put me out! I will
not lose the fight against monsters.’’
Perhaps once upon a time, Yonenaga had valiant dreams. Heroic dreams. 
With heavy lidded eyes Bakugou watched this presumably great man. Glimpsed at
his unfocused eyes flitting about and eyed the froth clumping around the
corners of his mouth.
There was the scent of sweat in the air too. Sweat and fear.
Passion could make any man desperate, and desire could make them go mad. It
wasn’t the first time Bakugou had seen humans collapse in on themselves. There
had been many castles Bakugou had seen reduced to lumps and dust because if it.
Because humans were so fragile and easily tainted. And if he were a little
younger—no, not just a little, but if it were centuries ago—he might have
lashed out by smashing this man’s face against the desk for making the stupid
choice of insulting Bakugou's greatness, but not now. Bakugou was too old for
that shit now.
‘’You lost the fight when you made a deal with us,’’ Bakugou told him and in a
flash, stood behind the human male, hand around Yonenaga’s mouth while the
other was placed on his forehead.
The former Prime Minster didn’t know what befell him until Bakugou’s hands lit
up bright red. A warmth spread across his palm and tickled his finger tips.
Like a thick mush, the soul Bakugou sucked out, sank down heavy around and down
the length of the bones of his fingers, flaring momentarily with a sizzling
heat before it settled quietly inside of him and left the prime minister a
convulsive mess of limbs for a long minute. His heartbeat drumming out its
final song.
Minutes later, Bakugou smelled the distinct scent of smoke, followed by the
sound of a howling fire alarm. Taking this as his cue, Bakugou shot explosions
from the palm of his hand at random spots in the room and watched as the flames
raged high and wide, smoke curling threatening fingers around Bakugou’s throat
and slinking their nails up a dead man’s nose.
Like a moth to a flame, the fire covered Yonenaga’s limp body in an instant,
sleeking its way along the floor and up the walls as it consumed everything
that stood in its path. Hungry to feed its impalpable sinuous body with
lifeless objects and fresh flesh. The flames trailed behind Bakugou as he
turned over the hot clink of the door, ignoring the flash of pain darting
across his palm as he patiently made his way through a building set afire like
a demon strutting his way out of hell.
                                       …
                                        
Outside, Bakugou asked a shocked spectator to pass him a cigarette. The man
stared at Bakugou with an agape mouth. The flames whirled behind him,
stretching and curling toward a smoky sky as the blaring of a fire truck echoed
somewhere in the distance.
A bit stupefied, the man watching the fire complied. He ransacked his pockets
and pulled out a package, proffering a smoke.
‘’Light too, dipshit. What do I look like, a human matchstick?’’
Dumbly, the man fetched out a lighter and Bakugou lit his butt, inhaling the
nicotine as if the fumes of the burning building at his back weren't damaging
enough to his lungs.
Whatever. It wasn’t like it would kill him. Being an immortal demon had its
perks, some would say.
He stalked through the gathered audience while loosening his collar with a
finger and taking a drag of his cigarette with the empty hand. Kirishima and
Kaminari were waiting for him at the edge of the sidewalk.
‘’Didn’t take you long,’’ Kirishima said upon being in his range of hearing,
eyeing Bakugou’s disheveled appearance. ‘’Kaminari worried you’d burn to
death.’’
Kaminari jolted up, embarrassed at being outed. ‘’It’s just because I didn’t
know how you’d be able to get out! We got everyone else evacuated with the fire
alarm, but you were out of reach. So, I was just a tiny bit... anyway, how did
you get out?’’
Bakugou glanced at him sideways and in a monotone voice told the new recruit,
‘’Punched a hole through the floor,’’ and sucked in the thick fog that hissed
inside his puff. 
‘’Eh?!’’ Kirishima spluttered, comically throwing his hands around.
''How—what—huh?''
Kirishima laughed in response, ‘’Figures.’’
‘’’S’not like they’d be able to tell what happened with everything burning to a
crisp.’’ Bakugou shrugged, calmly defending himself.
‘’Then it’s good to assume everything went well?’’
Bakugou didn’t reply to Shitty Hair's inquiry and instead took another drag of
his smoke, letting it rest in his throat until that burned too, before blowing
it out from the corner of his mouth, eyes narrowed into the distance as he
tried to drown out the sound of panic and fear around him.
‘’You look like you’ve got something on your mind,’’ Shitty Hair began.
‘’You think?’’ Dunce Face asked, pursing his lips. ‘’Doesn’t he normally look
like that? Broodingly, I mean.’’
Ignoring the new guy, Kirishima leveled the demon in front of him with a
contemplating look. ‘’Bakugou?’’ 
‘’When…’’ Bakugou scowled, tasting the words that slowly but surely trickled
out of his mouth as he recalled today’s events, spurred on by Kirishima's
insistence to hear him out. ‘’I used to look at humans trip all over themselves
trying to get to their destination, I always cracked up… I thought it was
fuckin' hilarious watching them stumble and fall. I couldn’t… understandwhat
made them… so desperate to get back up again, repeat the whole goddamned cycle
all over again, and fall—again. I thought those earth monkeys just had to be
crazy. Deranged! There’s no fuckin' way they weren’tinsane… And then some
shitty green eyed nerd stole something important from me and I went crazy
too.’’
Kirishima simply stared as though he could read the inner workings of Bakugou’s
mind while Kaminari looked at him as if he’d grown two heads.
‘’I’m crazy,’’ Bakugou muttered and Kaminari had half a mind to agree, but
wisely kept it to himself.
Snapping his cigarette in half and stomping it out on the ground, he turned his
back on them and began walking away.
‘’Where are you going?’’ Kirishima called after him.
Bakugou’s reply was a middle finger.
                                       …
                                        
The walls were covered in hieroglyphs.
Yui brushed a hand across the mysterious drawings, eyebrows knitted
thoughtfully and lips pursed. A strange creature with a wide beak and sharp
teeth, limbs stick thin and angular as if it was carved with a clumsily grip
and a sharp object, was etched onto the stoned walls. Several of odd figures
stood next to it, things that seemed to have no shape and those that resembled
beasts, large and valiant while the rest were curious markings in a language
Kodai couldn’t read. Kodai knew a lot of foreign languages, had traveled around
the world to extend her vocabulary, but she believed this one was unlike
anything she had ever seen before.
A dead language?
She grabbed for her phone and began making pictures while steadfastly making
her way down the cavern. It was roomy inside. Her cheeks felt slightly cold,
but thankfully her body was alright. She had grown back into her size while she
examined her new surroundings in order to move fast and record her findings for
later inspection.
Kodai marched forward until a slot in her left peripheral vision caught her
eye.
‘’What’s in there?’’ She asked herself quietly.
She ventured closer, tip-toeing ahead before peeking into the gape.
A bright, baby blue light rained down from the ceiling and on top of a single
platform. The tile had similar markings as the ones on the wall. If a tile was
concealed so craftily, it could only mean that it lead somewhere. Kodai had
seen too many covert passageways hewed into walls and grounds and hidden in
plain view to not feel suspicion set its fingernails into her skin.
Could it be a secret doorway leading downstairs? Perhaps this cavern had
several of floors.
Kodai temporarily stored her phone away before forcing herself through the
crack by minimizing once more and enlarging back to her size when she was
inside the little room. There she cautiously bent over and placed a hand on top
of the tile, camera on and back in hand as she filmed her reveal.
She pushed the tile and it gave way effortlessly. Maybe she had gotten
stronger. All that strength training in the gym might finally be showing its
results. Kodai almost wanted to pat herself on the back, but wisely decided
against it. With a groan, the tile slid open while small rocks broke off and
tumbled into the hole, landing on a set of scrolls.
Scrolls?Kodai wondered. Nowadays no one uses scrolls.
‘’How old are these papers?’’ She whispered to herself, watching the ancient
findings as if they were rubies and diamonds.
Could this be the reason he had asked her to come here?
‘’They’re much older than you.’’
Kodai went cold.
Her hand froze halfway down the gap, the other dropped her phone in cold fear.
Someone was behind her! She realized with alarming horror, eyes wide as her
heart raced an inane pace that she hadn’t even heard anyone come in.
Before she could properly react, a hard blow against her face sent her flying
to the opposite wall. A pang shot through her head and down her back when she
collided with the resistance that met her and like a wet towel, slumped to the
ground.
The pain was excruciating, unsettling hot as it rushed through her bones like
her blood had become liquid fire. Kodai gasped, attempting to fill her painful
lungs with air it desperately needed. Oh no! It wasn’t working. No matter how
much air she gulped in, it never seemed enough. Her lungs wanted more, but at
the same time opposed every single movement she made with a sharp twinge.
Yui Kodai didn’t believe she had any lavish desires. Kodai didn’t think staying
alive a little longer in order to finish her rich Telenova series, just when
Castillo was about to find out who his real father was, was that lavish of a
desire at all.
With peeping breaths Kodai tried moving, hoping to get out of here—away—from
that creature behind her, before he finished what he’d started.
But it was too late. He had seen her and through the blood slipping down her
forehead, striping her eyesight red, Kodai could see his foot come down before
it landed on her back, smacking her under with a terrible force that snapped
her body in half.
                                       …
 
Bakugou had enough of today. He ruffled his sticky hair, making it stand up
like skewers as he trekked his way home. He was hungry too. Those bagels
weren’t nearly enough to fill him up for three hours.
Tomorrow Bakugou would visit hell to drop the extracted soul. Since it was a
larger job than usually, considering they had to deal with a high profiled
figure, Bakugou was sure to be paid a lot. At least he had that to look forward
to.
However, filling up his empty wallet would have to wait, because right in front
of him, Bakugou had another obstacle waiting to be conquered. A big hurdle,
made out of humans surrounding a ten-story building, stood smack-dab in the
middle of the one man road to his remote, rundown apartment on the outskirts of
town.Fucking great, Bakugou thought. A flash of spandex red and colorful
costumes meandered in front of the building too, aggravating his already sour
mood. Even greater,He sighed sarcastically, there were heroes here too. Demons
and heroes did not mix at all. Even though most of the world was not aware of
the existence of demons, chalking it up to a fairy tale grandparents told their
children as a bedtime story before demons were snuffed out by the good guys,
there was still a latent part in the crux of their existences that had heroes
and demons instinctively clash like water and oil, almost as if they could
sense it. Were made for fighting against each other. Either way, it made for
unwanted confrontations. 
Trying to limit the amount of scrutiny his haggard appearance would warrant by
pushing on, Bakugou looked at his feet, curved his face away from the building
while shoving his hands into his pockets and dashed forward.
‘’If I see you two rushing headfirst into this building again, you’re both out
of here, immediately! Is that understood?’’
‘’Yes, sensei!’’
It was then that Bakugou felt as though his soul had ripped him to a
standstill.
In the middle of the crowd, Bakugou remained frozen, still; even his breathing
wouldn't come out. The only thing he could hear was the rushing of his blood
inside his ears and feel his chest tighten, numb his senses until it could only
focus on one, single point. 
And like a buffering fool—a true idiot—Bakugou looked up and caught sight of
the greenest eyes he’d ever seen.
Ah… Bakugou thought, watching as the boy’s eyes widened when they met.
Ah… He thought again, resigning himself to his fate.
Fuck me.
                                       …
                                        
                                      TBC
 
***** I *****
                                   ‘’Hiraeth
 (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe
 never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your
                                    past.’’
                                        
                                       …
                                       …
                                       …
                                       …
One hour ago
‘’I reallythink you should sit this one out, Midoriya-chan.’’ Tsuyu dodged the
wave of students charging at them from the opposite direction, making flurry
side steps to avoid running into a jittery kid with thick glasses and an arm
full of books, probably on his way to his next class, and subsequently narrowly
evaded crashing into a pink haired girl who was entirely too focused on her
smartphone. ‘’Ida-kun is going to be there,’’ Tsuyu lamented with an edge of
concern for the boy in front of her, respiration labored while she chased
Midoriya’s tail with an unusual amount of speed. ‘’You know him. He’ll
definitely make sure nothing happens to Ochaco-chan, and he’s not alone.
Aizawa-sensei will be there including a lot of top heroes. Besides that,
I—don’t think you’re fit to go anywhere.’’
Tsuyu slammed into a sturdy mass all of a sudden and had to take a moment to
realize that Midoriya had stopped walking. The crook of his spinal cord was
currently cradling her nose, so she gently took a step back to put some
distance between them, sighing when she noted the tension in her friend’s
shoulders was not receding.
‘’Don’t you think I want to be there too,’’ she muttered quietly at his
strained back, detesting the weakness that lived inside of her and kept her
from being able to save her abducted best friend. If Tsuyu couldn’t protect the
people dearest to her, then what good was she as a hero? She clenched her jaw.
She wanted to be there so bad, but Aizawa-sensei had made it abundantly clear
that she—and the rest of her classmates for that matter—would only burden the
top heroes during their rescue mission. Iida-kun was simply an exception.
Aizawa-sensei only reluctantly allowed their class president to join him in
order to give the outraged class 1-A some peace of mind; feel relieved knowing
one of their own was watching over their precious friend.
But that didn’t stop the worry. Contrary, Tsuyu knew that every single one of
them wanted to be there instead of here—where their hands could reach and make
a difference—and were left blue in the face with worry. ‘’I want to. I really
do, but we wouldn’t be helping them. We’d only make their load heavier.’’  
Midoriya’s hands tightened into fists. For the two years that she had known the
seventeen year old boy, the scars that skittered down and across his knuckles
and palms had increased. He had grown a little taller and sat at a modest
hundred and sixty nine centimeters. His self-imposed strength exercises
combined with their school’s rigorous physical training had done favors to his
body, packed with muscles as it was, but his face was still round. Puffy cheeks
and a small, upturned nose covered with freckles. Boyish. He looked like he
hadn’t aged a day past fifteen, even though he held himself stronger, back
straight like a lane; like a pro-hero did ifshe didn’t count the unsettling
atmosphere that had been surrounding Midoriya for the past few weeks.
Tsuyu, Iida and Ochaco had noticed something was going on with Midoriya. He had
seemed more nervous than what they were accustomed to, almost restless if she
were honest. Nowadays Midoriya’s sight darted to doors and out of windows at
random intervals—expectant—like an uneasy cat awaiting the coming of a storm
and Tsuyu couldn’t tell if he was waiting for something exciting or terrifying
to occur, what with the way his green eyes would twinkle one second and then
cloud over the next. But whatever it was, it was making a mess out of Midoriya.
Although they had inquired him about his odd facial expressions, their curly
haired friend had assured them he was fine.
But well, he didn’t lookfine with his sunken eyes and paled complexion, and
most of all not today. Tsuyu’s senses told her it wasn’t Ochaco who had him on
edge either. Ochaco’s dire situation was indeed a reason to be worried, but
Midoriya had something else going on in that muddied expression of his.
Something that made people worry; what Midoriya was dealing with was more…
profound.
‘’Midoriya-chan,’’ she began tentatively as the silence between them had
stretched for some time and her concern for her friend was taking on new
heights the longer she thought of his strange behavior. ‘’I think you need to
rest.’’
‘’Asui-chan…’’ He paused briefly to gather his breath. ‘’Thank you. I know
you’re trying to take care of me. You’re a good friend, honestly, but…’’ He
reached for the strap around his wrist and finished tightening it before
lifting his head up to face the doors of their school. ‘’It’s impossible for me
to sit and wait while Uraraka-chan is fighting for her life. I know Aizawa-
sensei told us to sit quietly and it’s not like I believe that Iida-kun
wouldn’t be able to get the job done—he’s amazing and strong and smart, so I
know he can. It’s just that I want to be able to help whether I’m needed or
not. If they don’t need me, I can just stay at the side-lines and wait until
the rescue mission is done, but if they do need me—if Uraraka-chan needs
me—I’ll be there too.’’ He turned around and gave her a broad smile. ‘’That’s
all.’’
Tsuyu frowned at the shadows underneath his eyes. You should help yourself
first, idiot,she thought silently. She knew wasted breath when it glared her in
the eye like this though. After all, Ochaco and Midoriya’s bond along with Iida
was much stronger than hers and Ochaco’s bond. The three of them couldn’t
remain passive while the other was in hot water and besides, Midoriya wasn’t
the type to wait around patiently for the tide to ebb. It was that inherent
ability of his that got him covered in all those scars too. One either loved or
hated how self-sacrificing and selfless he could be.
Right now, Tsuyu definitely sided with passionately disliking golden-hearted
Midoriya Izuku.
‘’I’m sorry to say this, Midoriya-chan, but can you be of any use when you look
like a fish trying to live on land?’’ He looked at her weirdly until she
elaborated. ‘’You seem out of it. Tired. Sick. In need of a hero, not needing
to bea hero.’’ Then a light-bulb went on in her head and the grove in Tsuyu’s
forehead deepened with an extra layer of worry. ‘’Could it be… are you still
having those weird nightmares?’’
His eyes flashed, causing Tsuyu to inhale sharply through her nose.
‘’I—I—I—‘’
‘’Have you tried talking to the nurse yet? I thought we told you to talk to a
professional about this.’’
‘’T—tha—you guys did, but—she only handles physical injuries, so—‘’
‘’That you knowof,’’ she cut in frustrated. ‘’She might be able to help you out
here, Midoriya-chan! She could even,’’ she lowered her voice when two passing
students came close to hear their conversation, waiting until they were out of
reach before she continued, ‘’refer you to someone who canhelp. Nurses do that
all the time. It’s a serious issue if you can’t even sleep properly because of
it,’’ she sighed. ‘’You’re so weird, Midoriya-chan. You go out saving the
world, but what about saving yourself?’’
‘’I was getting there,’’ he pouted like a scolded child, looking down at his
feet as he rubbed his forearm nervously. ‘’I just had a lot of stuff on my
mind.’’
‘’Which is why you had to go to the nurse office in the first place.’’
‘’I know. I know,’’ he murmured reservedly, looking troubled with every passing
second. ‘’C—can we talk about this later, please, Asui-chan? At present I just
want to save Uraraka-chan. I promise I’ll go to the nurse after everything has
settled down. Really.’’
He gave her the puppy-dog eyes, shiny and all, and Tsuyu rolled her own dark
ones. Yet she had given in. Damn him.
‘’I told you to call me Tsu,’’ she said instead as she shook her head. ‘’Just
hurry up and go. You better do as I’ve said when you come back, though! If you
don’t, I’ll drag you to the nurse myself, I swear.’’
He gave her a quick smile before turning around and jump-starting through the
door. He was gone in a flash and Tsuyu was left staring at his afterimage,
worried frown an unflappable expression on her face.
                                       …
Crumpled papers whirled through the air as Midoriya kicked off from his perch
on top of the sidewalk and onto the edge of the nearest wall, knees bent at his
hips to aid his follow-up jump, body crackling with red and green convulsive
lights that wrapped around him in a cloak as he launched himself. It jolted and
shimmered like lightening in the sky and if one didn’t know the young up-and-
coming hero, Izuku, from U.A., it would be easy to mistake the rapid moving boy
for a stray thunderbolt.
He wasted little time to jump from building to building and from skyscraper to
walls in an interminable headway, jaw clenched and eyebrows pushed together as
he effortlessly rushed through the city and toward point B. There was little
time to waste. The villain that Uraraka was facing was a nasty one and Midoriya
feared the worst. Midoriya had seen the masked man on television: a tall,
imposing figure with a vicious glare, draped in all black almost as if he were
supposed to be the embodiment of darkness itself, and heard of him on the
radio. They called him The Mask and he was known for torturing heroes while
live streaming it on the web.
Knowing that Uraraka had been with that kind of monster for quite some time,
made Midoriya’s skin crawl.
The hotel that Uraraka and the villain were in, came into view. A large
building that stood out as one of the few luxurious hotels around this part of
the city with its refined little stones and well-layered structure of dim gray
rocks. Below, Midoriya spotted familiar heads and suits, so he quickened his
pace, stepping from rooftop to rooftop in concentrated and precise movements
before hurling himself to the ground once he was close to his destination, wind
tousling his hair and kissing his cheeks a chilly red. He landed in a crouch
beside his unsuspecting classmate.
And the reason why Iida hadn’t noticed the new presence lingering near his
shoulder was because he was focused on the phone, one of the police officers
were holding up for a group of disconcerted pro heroes, a screen showcasing
their friend tied to a chair with a knife at her throat. Midoriya wasn’t too
sure who moved first, whether Iida had processed the situation for what it was
and the wheels in his high-tech Ingenium Boots accelerated in breakneck speed
or if Midoriya hadn’t ever stopped advancing and had merely slowed down to
digest the scene, but either way, both were set on stopping the beginnings of
an atrocity. Taking off toward the building with eyes that looked beyond brick
and steeled doors, and legs that were faster than minds, but plump with heart
and strong with resolution.
Aizawa-sensei must have had a class 1-A radar attached to his retina though,
because Midoriya and Iida had hardly taken two steps closer, before their
teacher's unmistakable voice cried, ‘’Oi!’’ and his long, tendril like scarf
clamped tightly around their legs, rendering the students completely immobile;
frozen like hollowed out statutes. ‘’Oi, oi, oi,’’Aizawa-sensei repeated
exasperated, charging toward the boys who had provoked his ire as their eyes
expanded in size once they realized their feet weren’t budging no matter how
much they wriggled to get away. ‘’And what do you two think you’re doing—and
what are youdoing here, Mi-do-ri-ya,’’the way he drawled out the syllables of
Midoriya’s name caused a long trail of horripilation to trek up and down his
back. With a dry mouth, Midoriya swallowed in fear while his teacher looked at
him from above his goggles, appearing grim and deadly. ‘’So you’ve ignored my
instructions and decided to come here anyway, haven’t you? It appears your
knack at testing my patience knows no bounds.’’
Iida barely spared his friend and classmate a glance, seemingly unraveled, and
turned his slightly panicked gaze to their teacher. ‘’Sensei, Uraraka-kun is in
urgent need of our assistance. The longer we wait here, the more serious the
situation becomes. Please let us go and save her.’’
‘’And you presume charging in and alerting the enemy of our presence was the
best solution?’’ Their teacher’s monotone voice droned.
Iida stiffened and swallowed his tongue.
Aizawa-sensei’s eyes narrowed treacherously small. He eyed them as though they
were babies who had just vomited all over their shirts. His disdain palpable.
‘’Do you realize what could have happened to her if you two went in without a
proper plan? Villains who find themselves in tough spots aren’t likely to be
kind to their hostages. You could’ve doomed Uraraka just now, do you realize
that?’’
Midoriya felt a pang of dread in his chest. Sensei was right. It was a rash
decision that could have ended in a stupid and deadly mistake.
‘’W—we presumed wrong,’’ Iida said, ashamed.
Aizawa sighed upon seeing their guilty expressions. They were her friends, so
it wasn’t shocking to see them think with their feet first and their heads
second. All they wanted was to save someone important to them, who was
currently in a very tough position. Sometimes even heroes forgot themselves in
similar situations.
Their hearts were in the right place, but still… ‘’You two are second years
now. Both of you went through a lot already. Keep your head in the game.’’ They
conceded solemnly after his discourse and Aizawa shook his head tiredly. ‘’Stay
where I can see you. Both of you, since sending Midoriya back to the academy
would neither benefit nor hurt in this case. Uraraka is our top priority and
not a stubborn kid who will definitelyreceive punishment when we get back to
school. Is that clear?’’
‘’Yes, sensei,’’ Midoriya pouted and remained where he’d been cut short by the
steel wire cloth retreating back to coil around its owner’s neck like a snake
burrowing under the ground.
With one last, withering look, Aizawa-sensei uttered a final warning as he
walked away, ‘’If I see you two rushing headfirst into this building again,
you’re both out of here, immediately! Is that understood?’’
‘’Yes, sensei,’’ they both yelled obediently at his back.
But Midoriya was given no time to reflect on his near error when an unusual
quiver flung him right off his A-game.
It started as a titillation that began in his chest and shifted down his back,
light and feather soft. Compelling, in the way it heightened all his senses to
focus on what was currently rumbling inside, spreading across the breadth of
his upper body like butter over bread. The sensation kissed its way up his
neck, slipping along his tendons, and all-encompassing him in a silent embrace
of freshly washed silk. A mere breath away from a whisper. He felt warm like
the sand touched by the sun; treasured as if he had become the world at night
illuminated by moonlight in a visionary attempt to pave way during the dark.  
But when he instinctively turned around, searching for what had caused that
sudden burst of warmth within him in a moment of time where he was racing
against the clock, the red eyes Midoriya had met sent him in a whirlpool of
fear.
Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.
Becausesomething was threatening to shred his rib cage apart and come out in a
tangle of frayed arteries, and Midoriya doubted anyone wanted to see him spill
his literal guts out. He choked on a quiet sob as he clutched at his madly
beating heart, trying to prevent the center of his being from ending them both
as it thudded in his ears, harping to be heard—revving up an undying song that
quickly absorbed every bit of rationality and sanity Midoriya had been
upholding.
Without thinking, Midoriya opened his mouth as he stared at the man up ahead,
face twisted in anguish and lips mouthing words Midoriya couldn’t understand.
Frowning in confusion and frustration at himself, the only thing he managed to
articulate was, ‘’K—‘’
And then the man disappeared as if he had gone up in smoke.
Midoriya choked—on air—on the breath he tried inhaling but failed to. It took
all of him not to wail at the sky in anger, and he didn’t know why.
‘’Hmm? ‘K’, wha—Midoriya-kun! Are you okay? Hey? Are you listening?’’ Iida had
suddenly entered his field of vision and was waving a hasty hand in front of
his face to bring his attention back. ‘’Oh sheesh, you do not look well at
all.’’
‘’No… I…’’
Iida frowned in concern, dubiously eyeing his friend from head to toe. ‘’It’s
hard to believe that you are caving under pressure, so could it be something
else other than the villain? You were trying to say something earlier, weren’t
you?’’
‘’I… don’t know,’’ Midoriya sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he
stared ahead of him dazedly, distress pushing his eyebrows down. ‘’I can’t
remember.’’
                                       …
Fuck.
Bakugou shouldered random people out of the way as he sprinted down the
streets, eyes crazed and jaw clenched, ignoring the indignant cries behind him
and opting to get the hell out of there—out of the city—or no, better yet, out
of Japan—as soon as fucking possible.
Fuckfuckfuck.
He was at his apartment in an instant and catapulted up his stairs and through
his door in record time, slamming it open hard enough for it to smash against
the wall, doorknob left firmly embedding the paper thin structure. Bakugou
rushed to gather his things, frantically shoving the bare necessities into a
retrieved plastic bag he had lying around. He cursed when he hit his toe on the
coffee table while scampering about, and angry because it had dared to obstruct
him even if it was just for a second, hurled it up to the ceiling with both
hands and a vicious growl. It came crashing down in a deafening impact,
splinters of thick wood scattering across his dirty carpet.   
The destruction that laid in front of his feet didn’t calm his anger; a frenzy
one could see with a dog infected by rabies—drooling around the mouth and eyes
manically wide—so Bakugou lurched for the wall positioned directly at his back
and bombarded it with his naked fists until his knuckles were raw and bloodied
and his breathing labored. He roared at the object as though it had personally
insulted him and let his tight knuckled fists rain with abandon, taking delight
in how it crackled and fell apart around him seamlessly. He didn’t stop until
he was satisfied with the havoc he’d created both in his room and on his flesh;
only when Bakugou could no longer feel his hands did he sink down to the
ground, palms leaving a bloody trail in their wake while sliding down the wall.
‘’Fuck,’’ he wheezed through heavy intakes of breath while leaning his forehead
on the demolished structure, allowing it to support him. ‘’Fuck this.’’
He slammed a weak, barely closed fist against the floor and squeezed his eyes
shut. With his anger spent and adrenaline slowly seeping out of him, Bakugou’s
rationality began to return and along with rationality, came the melancholic
realization that regardless of how far he’d run, Bakugou wouldn’t be able to
escape fate.
He wouldn’t be able to escape him.
That shitbag was here and that could only mean one thing.
Even though Bakugou had gone from almost entirely unheard of countries like
Kiribati to places of limelight like North America, and had extended his stay
to well over three months wherever he had gone, how big could his chances have
been to meet himin his short time spent in Japan?
That’s right, it shouldn’t have been plausible.
But that was naive of Bakugou; to sincerely believe that he wouldn’t meet that
guy simply because a small amount of time had passed since he’d arrived in
Japan was incredibly naive.
‘’I let my fuckin’ guard down,’’ he groaned to himself. Or had he really? What
had Bakugou been doing up ‘till now? Agitated, he knocked his head against the
wall. ‘’I hadn’tlet my guard down,’’ he understood then.
Because ever since the start, Bakugou had been running against the wind. The
odds hadn’t been stacked in his favor from the very beginning.
A brief vibration that alerted him to a text came from the pocket of his
sweatshirt. There were few people who had his number, all of whom were demons,
and although Bakugou was currently dealing with a pressing matter that needed
his immediate attention, he was also anticipating an important message.
Unfortunately, the one that sat in his inbox was not the text he was looking
for. Reading the name of the sender filled Bakugou with even more dread… up
till the contents of the message became clear.
Shitty Hair
Sent at 15:10 pm
uve been called in.
Bakugou hiked up an eyebrow and pushed himself into an upright sitting
position, surprise coloring his face as he stared at the phone in his bruised
right hand, keypad coated slightly red from where his fingertips had graced it.
Called in?Was this about the prime minister?
Wait. That didn’t make sense. Being called to come Down Under for something as
mundane as dropping off souls didn’t seem right, despite the fact that the
former owner used to be an important human. Demons, including himself, dropped
in all kinds of souls on the regular, from country leaders to lowly peasants
the list went on. So, why would the prime minister of a single country be any
different? For whatever Bakugou had done in his past, the underworld should
trust him at least this much.
Bakugou felt uneasy. Not only had he seen those dark olive green eyes today,
but hell had ordered him to come back in, and for what exactly he didn’t know.
‘’U—um…’’
He snapped his head up to the open door where the unfamiliar voice had come
from, tensing his body in case he had to fight off an intruder, and then
frowned at the sight of a woman in a bathrobe. His neighbor. Bakugou’s haunches
went up. ‘’The fuck’re you doin’, bugly? Ever heard of privacy?’’ He spat,
already standing up so he could slam the door in the woman’s face.
She hid behind the door frame, hands clenching the panel and knuckles white
with strain. She anxiously stared at him, unsure of whether she wanted to talk
to the bloodied, hysterical man who was charging toward her with murderous
intent on his face. In a small voice and with words that Bakugou likened to
being neighborly, the woman asked: ‘’I—is everything a—al—r—right?’’ She threw
fearful glances around the battle zone that had become his room while shuffling
behind the frame as though rethinking her good Samaritan act upon wondering if
her neighbor might be an ex-resident of a nuthouse. Or a current resident who’d
just escaped. He sure seemed like it.
‘’Just fuckin’ peachy,’’ Bakugou growled in response, sarcasm dripping off his
biting tone. ‘’I always use my furniture and walls as an effective replacement
of a punching ball, since beating up actual people’s gonna land me in jail.
Why? You don’t?’’
She squeaked in horror. ‘’D—did you know t—that y—you’ll have to p—pay for the
damages?’’
‘’Did you know that you can go ahead and fuck yourself?’’ He pulled the door
out of its hole, strength chipping off part of the fragile structure and
slammed it closed in her face.
She managed to pull her hands away just before the door hacked her fingers off.
                                       …
Hell was a place of fire and smoke.
Dark were the skies that hovered above, carpeted by slate gray clouds that
oozed the shade of toxic fumes. Piles of razor-sharp rocks jutted out the
ground and shot up in a jumble of confused constructions, unawares of where to
aim its thorny sides. Flames of chaotic yellow and orange, mixed with
unapologetic slivers of red danced around them in a cynically fashion, staving
off there where demons walked. Much like the land right below the sky, there
were cities and villages one could find in hell. Homes demons had forged out of
brick and steel,  and schools and facilities filled with children including
well-apt employees.
But the skies weren’t as blue as the heavens when dawn broke, and Bakugou’s
never seen a star down here.
There weren’t many of them left—of demons—compared to humans. With a low
birthrate, their population had been steadily dwindling and Bakugou saw the
results everywhere. There were streets a demon could walk that were completely
surrounded by fire, swallowed whole as though they were made of gasoline. There
were cities a demon could visit and he wouldn’t see life for miles.
Bakugou hated coming down here, but that was for different reasons entirely.
The whispers that followed him and the side-glances he received in passing-by
helped grate on his nerves, sure, but that wasn't what fueled his distaste well
enough. Bakugou could do with wandering eyes and silent questions. Oddly
enough, Bakugou had gotten used to the inquisitive gazes and gossip that chased
his tail, had 600 years to get used to them as a matter of fact, and while his
easily irked predisposition had his fellow demons on their toes, and as quiet
as could be lest they invoke his wrath, cornering them one by one was—what
Bakugou had decided—a waste of valuable time.
Besides.
He shot a nasty glare in the direction of a guard who was eyeing him with a
nervous and meaningful look while standing in front of the palace that lead
Bakugou to the King Pin, snapping the demon right in his place with the heat of
his gaze alone. The ghoulish guard, four times Bakugou’s size with black irises
and scaly, red skin, quickly looked away while straightening his back, Adam’s
apple bobbing up and down in fear.
That’s right, fucker,Bakugou thought with a somewhat arrogant flare about his
stance, squaring up his shoulders and crackling his neck this way and that as
he returned his red eyes back to the double doors opening in front of him, I’m
still the fucking best in this shithole.
The doors creaked open and made way for a large, spacious room with dark Gothic
stairs leading upwards, doors that lead to various of chambers on the ground
floor, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, vintage styled furniture like
chairs and couches to the sides and a long, blood red carpet rolled out toward
the front of the room where the devil, in all his arrant glory, sat in a
wheelchair specially for this occasion. The doors slammed shut behind Bakugou.
The lights were dim, the room slightly humid as if the heat of the fires
outside had waddled past the gates.
He’d been here before.
The gap between them was wide, but Bakugou could sense the ghastly aura pouring
out of the wheelchair-bound creature in thick, heady streams regardless of
their distance. It swallowed up the whole room, left Bakugou restless as though
his core feared impermissible entrance; could tell it was in the presence of
something that could take him over whenever it wanted. The devil, although
crippled for some time, could still swipe down a nation if he so willed it and
Bakugou was acutely aware of that tidbit. Not one to show his worries, Bakugou
trudged forward and dropped to one knee when he’d reached his leader, bowing
his head in reverence and keeping his eyes on the mat as he waited to be spoken
to. Remaining poised.  
‘’Your hands.’’
The bass that broke the silence caused a long silent shudder to pull through
him; a voice so deep and harrowing, it reverberated even while masked with flat
interest. Bakugou gathered himself, answering the unspoken question
nonchalantly, ‘’It’s nothing of importance, my lord,’’ he spoke reverently.
He’d bandaged his hands before coming here, but the wounds had begun bleeding
shortly after and had leaked through the gauze, leaving the once pristine white
tissues in a spattered mess of rosewood colored petals.
The devil hummed, moving his scarred face to the side as he regarded the demon
in front of him with a mindful eye. Darkness dropped over them. He opened his
mouth once more, words slithering out as the snake of old. ‘’You have not aged
a day.’’
Was that so? It had been a while since they were face to face like this. But
demons aged much slower than humans, were immortal even, so perhaps—to this
never ending existence—Bakugou still looked like a child. A child he didn't
feel like.
‘’I feel old,’’ was his curt reply, soft and well-mannered simultaneously.
Minding his crisp attitude. 
‘’Old?’’ The shadowed creature’s peerless voice quivered on the edge of a
chortle. Bakugou's eye twitched and he bowed lower. ‘’In human years you’d be
no less than a brat in his twenties! Iam old.’’
‘’That is true, I suppose.’’
Reckoning Bakugou's answer sufficient, the dark lord of this world huffed and
resumed candidly. ‘’You’ve been doing quite well for yourself, I’ve been told.
The overseers I’ve appointed to different bases across the earth have spoken
lofty of your abilities. Kirishima being the most recent.’’ Naturally. Bakugou
had never half-assed his work, but he doubted that that was the reason he’d
been called in after many years had come and gone by. ‘’Despite losing your
wings, your strength has not followed suit.’’
There. And what a blow it was.
Bakugou stiffened once those words registered. Slowly, he pulled his gaze up
and spotted a shadow of a smile dancing across Satan’s lips.
That fucking bastard… He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his eyes from
narrowing even when facing the devil himself—because fuck it if there weren't
subjects Bakugou did not like to talk or think about. Why was he bringing that
up now anyway? His own words in his throat, eyelids twitching to glower, so he
swallowed—hard—and tried a different approach. A calmer one; a reasonable one.
‘’That... it’s been centuries. Do I look like a little bitch who’d fall along
with my wings, my lord?’’
His faint smile didn’t disperse, ‘’I suppose not… You have proven how capable
you are even as a Lower Demon.’’
‘’I was a Greater Demon first, after all,’’ Bakugou’s voice clipped, ire rising
despite his ineffective attempts to reign it back. ‘’A demotion of rank won’t
erase the power I’ve cultivated over the years.'' He paused. ''… my lord,’’ he
added then, in an afterthought.
‘’You were, weren’t you? Great, that is. How time flies… Do you miss it,
soaring into the sky—having your name reveled and feared by many?’’
He looked down at his one upright foot, bent at the knee, and felt an
invisible, dull ache in his back where his wings once were in place of the two
thick scars that veiled it now ‘’There are many things I… miss.’’ Bakugou
shuttered his eyes, becoming uncharacteristically quiet. Even though he no
longer felt the physically pain, the illusion still simmered below his skin,
ever present and unforgettable. He could still feel the sensation of having his
wings cut off; could still recall that day for it had starred in his dreams
many times before. ‘’And there are things I don’t. I don’t dwell.’’
‘’You don’t?’’
He paused, frowning. What was the point of these questions?  ‘’I... try not
to,’’ Bakugou said with some difficulty.
‘’I see,’’ the shadowed figure responded wistfully, sitting back in his seat.
There were tubes attached to a face half scarred from the forehead down to the
cheeks, thick and ropy, entangled in a turmoil of strings. They moved whenever
he spoke, stretched far back along the opened slit of his mouth and squirmed
gruesomely like parasitic worms at any time he laughed. ‘’If only I had your
resilience. Grudges and vengeance are what drive me. In this world that is
surrounded by light… how I loathe its fierceness,’’ his voice shifted to a
hiss, words smoothing passed his clenched teeth. ‘’If it weren’t for us, how
could this world prosper? How would humans know right from wrong if there was
no wrong—good and evil, if evil did not exist? And yet, we’ve been rejected by
the very world we serve as though we are insects...! But... But Katsuki, even
insects have been here since the beginning of time, have they not?’’ He quirked
his head up and Bakugou imagined watching fierce, dark eyes gleaming with vigor
and rage, spitting his visions sans voice elevating equipment, for his voice
aligned with his convictions would be loud enough. If it were not for the
marred skin that covered the face of the creature before him, the devil would
appear as a charming volatile man. ‘’Our existence is natural and therefore we
deserve to live!’’
Gazing at this pure, unadulterated and terrifying being, Bakugou was reminded
of himself. Of the words he once spoke. Of the large, magnificent black wings
that had covered the back of an indisputable leader of a group of unwanted
pests as he slayed his enemies one by one. He remembered the blood that adorned
him like armor. The severed limbs he used as stepping stones. And the valiant
way he rose above all who dared question the weight of his name.
He was reminded of who he once was, and thus shuttered his eyes. Looking away.
‘’But see here… this body of mine… can no longer move the way I please, and
that all because of one person!’’ The aura around the devil became darker,
electrifying, and Bakugou had to restrain himself from acting instinctively
along with what his body perceived as an attack on his life. ‘’If I could, I
would end hislife before he could ever strike me! Yes, the war had been won,
but at what cost? What had I lost in pursuit of complete victory? It was the
battle!’’ Then he sighed, resigning himself in his seat while forcefully
shucking the chains of anger. ‘’Katsuki, look at me.’’
He did.
‘’Despite the years that have gone by, I still believe in you. Your continued
strive has proven that I can still believe in you. You understand why I had to
demote you, do you not?’’
‘’I do.’’
‘’Can you believe me when I say that in spite of everything, you are the one I
rely on for our continued battle concerning the validation of our existence?’’
His tone was grave, ‘’Are you able to fight for me another time?’’
‘’I’ve been fighting for you this whole time, my lord.’’
‘’This time is different.’’
Bakugou twitched, but he kept his face impassive.
‘’It is as you say… even though you have been demoted, you are still the most
powerful demon we have here. And as you have proven your loyalty, I can only
ask you to do this for me.’’
‘’I am at my lord’s service,’’ Bakugou told him tersely.
‘’Good. I expected nothing less. Then, Katuski,’’ the devil kept his voice
leveled, but as he spoke with a leveled tone, Bakugou tasted the underlying
anger in the air rolling off him in waves. ‘’We’ve received news that one of
our own has been murdered.’’
A demon… murdered? Bakugou scowled. Being immortal didn’t mean they were unable
to die, their lifespan was infinitive as long as they weren’t killed. On the
other hand, to be able to kill a demon was no easy feat. Packed with a high
sensory system and superhuman strength combined with extraordinary abilities
like magic—or what humans nowadays called quirks—demons were regarded as tough
opponents. Whoever managed to kill a demon had to be someone incredibly strong.
No wonder Bakugou had been tasked to take on this job. He knew his relationship
with hell was strained at best, and that the only reason he hadn’t been
discarded completely was simply because they needed him so much.
‘’She’d been retrieved by authorities after the cave she'd been in had
collapsed. The noise had drawn in the city’s authorities after a nearby police
station had heard the sound. Naturally, I've already planted one of our own
within the local authorities. And from what we've gathered, authorities believe
she may have died upon impact. Which is highly unlikely, for that we are too
superior. Especially a demon of her caliber would have been able to veer her
way through. She was a well-known investigator. Her job did not come without
foes. Most likely someone had overpowered her, a person with a grudge,
perhaps. ’’
Bakugou swallowed tightly. ‘’Investigator?’’ His tongue was awkward in his
mouth as he breathed the word with a seemingly deadpanned face.
‘’Yes,’’ the shadowy creature continued unperturbed. ‘’According to our spy,
that cave she had been in was a mysterious place with many secrets. Normally,
no one should have been able to enter that place, but somehow she had
succeeded. I suppose, if it were her, such an action would be feasible. She was
very talented.’’
His phone burned insistently against his thigh as he recalled that the messages
he had been waiting for hadn't arrived. ‘’Was… it someone I knew?’’
Bakugou’s stomach dropped into his pit when the devil spoke up. ‘’Possible. She
was a reputable demoness. Yui Kodai. Does her name ring a bell?’’
                                       …
                                      TBC
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