Chapter Text
The roaring of a plane taking off not too far from Izuku made him put one hand up to cover one of his ears while pressing his phone harder to his other ear. The wind was whipping his clothes and hair all over the place.
His hair, which was always a curly, dark green mess, was getting pretty long. It wasn’t unusual for him to let it get a little shaggy, but as the wind whipped it right in his eyes, he realized it was probably time for a trim.
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” he shouted into his phone over the din of the departing plane. His eyes followed it as it took off into the air, and the roaring started to fade shortly after.
“I left my car at the airport if you could please just drive it home for me,” said the deep, mellow voice of Todoroki Shouto on the other end of the line.
Izuku barely resisted the urge to sigh. He was exhausted and could feel said exhaustion in every inch of his body.
Instead, he kept his voice neutral, “Why not just have someone drop you off?”
“I knew you’d be flying back later tonight,” Shouto responded. “I figured you could just drive it back.”
“Okay, right,” Izuku nodded, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “That’s fine. I’ll drive it back for you.”
“Thanks, Izuku,” Shouto said. “I left it unlocked. The key’s just in the side door.”
“Okay,” Izuku said, battling his years-old instincts to berate Shouto for not locking his car. But it was sort of a silly thing to do in this case. The executive airport was both private and secluded, miles from anything that wasn’t dense forest or private property.
“It’s the black bimmer.”
Shouto’s black BMW—it was an SUV with tinted windows. At least he had the sense to not leave behind a car he cared about all that much.
“Got it.”
“Have a safe flight, Izuku.”
“Thanks! Good luck dealing with your family,” Izuku said, wincing even as he said it.
“Kill me,” Shouto deadpanned. “I’ll see you in a few days. Thanks again.”
“No problem! Bye!”
“Bye.”
Izuku clicked off the call, allowing himself to sigh loudly now. He was fairly new to this whole ridiculous-amounts-of-money thing, but Shouto wasn’t. While Izuku had struck gold by selling his tech to the military and entering a contract with them five years ago, Shouto’s family was old money. As in, scary amounts of money that dated back centuries and held secrets and lore.
Izuku typed out a quick text to his driver—who’d been scheduled to pick him up from the airport—to inform him there was a change of plans. When he finished the text, he tucked his phone in his back pocket and leaned back against the side of the airport. He drew in a deep breath, looking up at the bright blue sky.
This, like every airport Izuku had been to in the last five years, was a private airport. It wasn’t huge, and Izuku liked that he could stand in the sun for a moment as his plane was prepared for the flight.
He had grown up too poor to spend much time at public airports, but Izuku had been a few times. Enough times to be able to fully appreciate the luxury of not having to go through the crowds and security and the waiting and the stress.
He appreciated it, but it still sometimes felt surreal. It felt surreal to have grown up as some poor, nerdy kid that most people didn’t look at twice to now having people fall all over themselves to try and impress him. It felt strange to have people treat him so differently—like he was someone not only to be noticed, but to be respected and catered to.
Izuku watched a flock of birds cross the sky, blinking tiredly at them. He’d spent the last few days going to constant meetings in Tokyo, and he was exhausted. To be entirely honest, he didn’t want to drive home later. He really could just have a driver get him and send someone else for Shouto’s car, but that felt silly.
He would just nap on the plane.
“Mr. Midoriya!” a voice called before a man came around the corner and spotted him. It was one of the airport workers he’d met an hour or two ago. “Oh, there you are. Your pilot said you should be ready to get going pretty soon.”
Izuku offered him a smile and hoped the shadows under his eyes didn’t make him look too weary. “Thank you!”
“Of course, sir,” the man ducked his head in a small bow and went back the way he came.
Izuku drew in a last deep breath.
Shouto came from old money, but his family was terrible. Old secrets, abusive father, less than ethical business practices… there were a lot of reasons the Todoroki family was less than great. Shouto rarely ever saw them anymore and was only doing so now because it was his brother’s wedding.
Izuku had convinced him that he really had to go. With much reluctance, Shouto had relented and made the trip up north to one of his family’s estates. He would be gone for a little less than a month to attend all the wedding activities, assuming Shouto didn’t reach the end of his patience before then.
Izuku and Shouto had met in college where they’d been randomly assigned first year dorm roommates. They hadn’t exactly hit it off at first, but with enough time Izuku had broken through his icy exterior.
And now? Ten years later? Well, they still lived together along with several of their other friends. Were Izuku and Shouto both rich enough to buy a good chunk of Japan on their own? Yes. But why live alone when you could live with your friends?
A few years back, Izuku and his friends had built a massive, high-tech compound to coexist in. It was nice for all of them. Shouto, who hated his family, and Izuku, who had no family to speak of now that his mom had passed.
A few other friends from college had rooms in the house, including Iida Tenya, Uraraka Ochako, and Asui Tsuyu. Everyone was busy, and despite usually working from home they all had to travel occasionally for work. It wasn’t uncommon for there to be times such as this, where Izuku would be going home to an empty house.
Despite the massive house, Izuku wasn’t really one to splurge unnecessarily on things for himself. However, he did admit it was nice having a driver since he wasn’t overly fond of driving himself.
Unfortunately, Shouto was the opposite. He loved driving and had quite an impressive collection of cars. And he never used a driver, or any staff really, unless he absolutely had to.
Izuku couldn’t give him too much shit for driving one of his cars to the airport today. Shouto was probably dreading seeing his family, and driving took his mind off things. Izuku just wished he’d brought someone along to drive it back or something. Especially because it would be dark when Izuku got back, so his tired eyes would have to deal with driving in the dark, too.
Oh, well. Hopefully the drive helped Shouto calm down a bit before his flight at least.
Izuku pushed off the wall, rolling his tense neck in an attempt to stretch it out. With that, he made his way over to his plane.
Katsuki had been shot before, but never this many times at once.
Even as he ran through the woods, branches and bushes whipping past him and surely scraping him up even more, he knew he was probably as good as dead. Those bastards that had double crossed him had really done a number on him. He honestly still couldn’t believe it. They’d double crossed him?! Bakugou fucking Katsuki?! Did they have a death wish?!
Though, he knew the reason they were being so damn relentless in chasing him was because they were smart enough to know how much they’d fucked up. If you were going to double cross Katsuki, you’d better kill him successfully. The moment he got his hands on a goddamn gun, or even a particularly pointy stick, they would be in trouble.
It had been years since anyone dared to so much as lie to Katsuki, so maybe he’d grown a little soft.
Never again. Fuck this. If he made it out of this, he would tighten his fucking grip on things until he’d crushed any weak links.
The current main issue was he had no idea where the fuck he was. Absolutely no clue. At the moment, he was running aimlessly through seemingly endless trees, with his only goal to put space between himself and the strange, isolated compound they’d taken him to.
From what he could discern, it was some old bunker. They’d had him tied up and locked him down pretty damn good, he’ll give them that. Unfortunately for them, he was better. How many times had he escaped the cops and juvie back in his delinquent days? Sure, he was a bit out of practice considering that most people wouldn’t fucking dare to try and harm him directly these days, but he still remembered how the fuck to get out of restraints.
It seemed he had gone a bit senile in his old age, though, because he’d tripped an alarm on his way out—an alarm he should’ve fucking seen—and earned himself four gunshot wounds. Three of them had hit limbs—basically grazed them. The fourth was more difficult—it had torn through a chunk of his left shoulder. Besides the fact it hurt like a bitch even through the adrenaline, he could feel the blood still actively running down his arm.
The real trouble was actually not a bullet at all, but some sort of tranquilizer dart that had caught him in the right calf as he was seconds from making it to the cover of the woods. He’d yanked it out as soon as he could, but he knew that sooner rather than later, he’d be out.
Already, he could feel his head swimming, but it was hard to know the cause. Was it the dehydration, the hunger, the lack of sleep, the bullet wounds, or the tranquilizer dart? Katsuki had been having such a wonderful last few days, it was hard to pin down which was currently about to take him out.
His kidnappers had given chase, but the woods were dense and Katsuki was fast. Or at least, he had been fast. Adrenaline and natural athleticism had given him a pretty good head start, but he had no idea how long he’d last until he was out cold or how close they were to finding him. He needed to find somewhere to hide. And fast.
The problem was, he was in the fucking woods. It was just goddamn trees with not even a cave or burrow or a goddamn bush in sight.
So, Katsuki just kept running, adrenaline and pain tolerance and pure spite working together to keep him upright for much longer than would’ve otherwise been possible.
He stopped briefly to tear his shirt—which had originated as a fucking expensive white button-down—into strips. He tied off the wound on his shoulder first, breathing hard and clenching his jaw to muffle his own cry from the sharp spike of pain. Quickly, also he tied off the other wounds. It wasn’t ideal, but the main priority was to stop, or at least slow, the bleeding.
And then he was running again.
It was also very dark now, which was both a blessing and a curse for him. They would have a harder time spotting him, but he also couldn’t see shit either.
More running, more fury and burning need for revenge spiking through Katsuki’s body, more running, more glancing over his shoulder.
More dizziness, more cursing himself for being stupid enough to get double crossed, more running.
Katsuki was getting dangerously faint—vision all hazy and starting to stagger—when the universe decided to throw him a bone. He saw a light so far ahead that with his blurred vision he was half convinced he was hallucinating. But he wasn’t exactly in a position to be picky, so he ran towards it. When he reached the edge of the trees, he slid to a stop, leaning against a tree with his breathing so labored his whole body moved with each heave of his chest.
It was some kind of parking lot. Mostly empty. There was a massive building off to the side, and Katsuki was too frazzled and dizzy to be able to make out a single other detail. He decided to make a break for the building, hoping to find someone or break in and steal a phone.
Halfway there, he realized all at once that he wouldn’t make it to the building. Desperately, vision so clouded over he wasn’t sure when he would collapse, he started yanking on door handles of the few cars in the lot.
Third time’s the charm—some bastard with a black BMW SUV that was easily 100 grand had just left their car unlocked.
Katsuki scrambled into the back seat, throwing himself over the back seats to land in the very back of the car, knocking the breath out of his own lungs as he landed hard. For a moment, he just lay there, clutching at his bleeding shoulder and huffing in labored breaths.
Fuck, this idiot’s car would be so fucking easy to steal. If only he wasn’t seconds from passing out.
Katsuki’s last thought was how he was grateful for the invention of tinted windows. Hopefully they’d be enough to save him.
He passed out, hand still wrapped protectively over the makeshift bandage on his shoulder.
Despite being worth billions of dollars, Izuku still tended to pack light if he could. After they’d landed, he thanked his flight crew, swung his backpack over his shoulder, and grabbed his duffel bag. He’d caught a few hours of sleep on the plane, but he still felt sluggish and pretty damn far from being well rested as he made his way out to find Shouto’s car.
And now he had to drive thirty minutes home in the dark, which he was admittedly not looking forward to.
Shouto’s car was easy enough to find, and Izuku tugged open the driver’s side door. He climbed in, tossing his duffel on the passenger-side floor and swinging his backpack onto the seat. He pressed the button to start the engine as he fished around in the door for the key so that he would know where it was when he got home. It was all remote, of course, so the car started as long as the key was in the car. Still, Izuku figured it was best to find it now.
Izuku tiredly started to get ready to go—turning on the radio to something quiet, flipping on the lights, clicking on his seatbelt—all the usual things. It was only when he adjusted the mirror and took a deep breath that his face scrunched up, and he glanced in the backseat.
There wasn’t anything there, which wasn’t a shocker. Izuku ducked back to look at the floor in front of the back seats to see if something was there instead. Nothing. Making a face, Izuku inhaled again, and then gagged, hurrying to turn up the air and making sure it was bringing it from the outside instead of circulating it in the cabin. The loud whooshing sound of the air conditioning filled the car.
He thought about sending Shouto a text to ask about the smell, but didn’t want to come across as mean by calling his car dirty. Tomorrow he could look more thoroughly at the car and maybe have someone clean it.
With a sigh, Izuku glanced at the backseat one more time, as if a dead bird carcass would appear or something. He shook his head, directing the air vent to hit him right in the face, and shifted the car into gear.
Katsuki had to say he was pretty surprised that he woke up still in the back of that damn car.
So surprised that for a moment he had no idea where the fuck he was, but the excruciating pain in his shoulder reminded him real quick of all that had transpired. Now his neck also hurt like a bitch from the awkward angle he’d passed out at.
With a long, pained groan, Katsuki shakily pushed himself to a sitting position. Each movement required immense amounts of effort. His head pounded painfully, and his pulse and breathing were both so high he might as well be running.
They hadn’t found him yet, and he was still alive. Though he didn’t feel super alive, if he was being honest. He felt a bit like death warmed over.
He figured it was most likely that he’d been knocked out by the tranq dart, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear. Even if he was awake, he was still so thirsty that his throat and lips were painfully dry, he was starving, and he was still slowly bleeding. He’d have to get in that building now and hope he could find a fucking phone.
A glance out the window changed everything.
Immediately, Katsuki dropped back down away from the windows, eyes wide even as his vision briefly blacked out from the sudden movement. His heart thundered away as his body once again tried to force adrenaline into his system.
He wasn’t in the fucking parking lot anymore. The car had moved while he was out.
“Fuck,” Katsuki stayed ducked, trying to breathe evenly. He clutched at his shoulder. The pain was so bad he wasn’t sure if he could move his arm without passing out. The scraps of shirt he’d wrapped around it were soaked through with blood, with layers of old and new blood all over his arm and hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Who the hell would’ve left Katsuki in their car like this after moving him? Was it some idiot who really didn’t notice the blood he’d probably gotten on the seats, or the stink that Katsuki was surely giving off after five days in captivity?
No. More likely, Katsuki had walked into a trap. The car, and probably the building near that parking lot he’d seen, was probably owned by the same people who kidnapped him in the first place. Or another third party that was paying close attention and took advantage of this opportunity.
Carefully, Katsuki moved up to peer out the back window, his brow furrowing in confusion. He was in some sort of big garage or warehouse. Several other cars were parked near the one he was in, and an entire half the garage appeared to be a mess of metal and tech and gear. Workbenches and monitors were dotted here or there and clutter was everywhere.
Katsuki’s eyes zoned in on the gear. There—against the wall.
Guns. There were a few laid out carefully on the table. He looked back and forth as far as he could manage from his viewpoint. There wasn’t anyone in sight.
Why the hell would they leave him in the fucking car, fifteen feet from some fucking guns? Were they asking to die?
Katsuki gritted his teeth, glancing down at his wounds and his bled-through makeshift bandages. Maybe they thought he’d bleed out? Maybe they thought the tranq dart would last longer? Still, they were fucking stupid for not even tying him up first. Or giving him more tranquilizer. Didn’t they understand who the fuck they were dealing with?
Breathing laboriously, Katsuki climbed over the backseat of the car, stunned to find it unlocked again.
This was all too fucking suspicious. It had to be a trap. Or a test. Or something.
Whatever it was, Katsuki intended on getting his hands back on a fucking gun.
When he opened the car door, he nearly fell out of the car with how weak and unresponsive his limbs felt. He caught himself on the door, huffing breaths in and out as he took a moment to breathe and try and wake up his limbs a bit. The pain of his left shoulder was enough to make his head swim all over again.
Another moment, and then he was moving. He slammed the car door shut, stumbling towards the workstation where he’d spotted the guns. Once he was close enough, he had to step this way and that to dodge the random crap strewn about this person’s extremely fucking chaotic and messy workstation. Soon enough, he was in front of the guns, leaning heavily on the worktable and panting from the effort.
The moment he laid eyes on the guns and got a good look at them, his eyes went wide. Almost reverently, he picked one up, rotating it and checking it over.
It was a shiny, brand-new pistol with a textured grip and matte black finish. Katsuki noted the laser sight and the small screen display on the side. A quick glance at the table showed the corresponding wristwatch that went with the gun—he knew enough about new tech to know that the gun would only fire if the person holding it was wearing the watch.
This sort of gun and tech was ridiculously hard to come by, especially with restrictive Japanese gun laws. As far as Katsuki knew, it almost exclusively belonged to the military.
He rotated the gun and squinted at the text etched into the side of it in dark green.
Midoriya Industries
“Holy fuck,” Katsuki’s heart thudded in his chest, glancing behind him and around the room once more to make sure no one was around.
As Katsuki scanned the table and workstation, he grew more and more uneasy. How in the actual fuck had these assholes got their hands on military-grade tech? Brand new military-grade tech?
Katsuki was about as far as one would get from military, but he knew guns and weapons. Anyone who knew anything about weaponry and tech had heard about how Midoriya Industries had upped the game in recent years. It was a Japan-based company, but their tech was desired worldwide. They had some genius, hotshot founder who was worshiped by gun enthusiasts and tech bros everywhere.
The highest tech guns, weaponry, and gear all came from Midoriya Industries these days as other production companies scrambled to keep up. Katsuki had one gun with Midoriya tech—and it was years older than the one he currently held in his hands. It was one of his most treasured possessions and had been a bitch to come by.
It really wasn’t a good sign that the people who’d kidnapped Katsuki had access to this shit, but Katsuki forced himself to focus. He could worry about this later. Even if they were stupid for leaving him unguarded, this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.
He dug around the workstation, finding a frankly excessive amount of tech and ammo, and—fucking score. A first aid kit.
“Ha,” Katsuki grinned victoriously, cracking open the first aid kit. It was small but well stocked.
He still had no idea how long he’d have until the fuckers came back to make sure he was still out, but he needed to treat himself as quickly as possible. The rest of his wounds could wait, but the shoulder wound could become especially dangerous if he didn’t treat it.
With half his dulled senses directed towards the entrances, Katsuki worked quickly and diligently, stripping off the bloody, tattered remains of his shirt. Hastily, he washed off his hands and arm in the utility sink against the wall, wiped over the wound with disinfectant—muffling his grunts and hisses of pain as best he could—and redressed his wound. His other injuries would have to wait.
He also ducked down to drink some of the water out of the sink—his parched throat demanded attention even with all the other priorities.
As he finished tying off his shoulder bandage, he stood and tucked one of the pistols behind him in his belt, and loading up another to hold. Unable to help himself, he latched on the wristwatch and swung the gun over towards the targets lined up against the wall. Switching on the laser sight, he saw the tiny green dot illuminate against the target and felt the perfectly balanced pistol in his hands.
He grinned like a kid in a candy store but wasn’t dumb enough to take the shot, switching off the laser for now. Even with the silencing tech on the gun, it would be too loud for his liking. He shoved extra ammo into his pockets, wishing there was a bag or some shit lying around. For good measure, he swung one of the rifles over his back.
He would make these assholes pay for not making sure he was dead before leaving him in an unlocked car.
Armed and as ready as he’d ever be, Katsuki crept towards the stairs away from the garage, eyes peeled. He still felt off and woozy, but he wasn’t seconds from passing out. Admittedly, with this gun in his hand he felt damn near unstoppable.
He was well enough to keep his wits about him, and definitely well enough to quickly figure out this place was fucking insane.
Wherever he was, it was massive, and it stunk of wealth. Huge, overwhelming amounts of wealth. Katsuki didn’t like that—he had no idea the people who’d taken him were so well-off. He never would’ve fucking guessed it based off the shithole they kept him in for days. Fuck them, honestly. They had places like this, and they kept him in some shitty bunker that smelled of mold?
There was also the alternative option nagging at the back of his mind—that this was a third party. Someone else. But who the hell else would’ve kidnapped him? He hated not knowing shit.
This compound—or wherever the hell he was—was massive. Not only that but it was completely fucking devoid of people. The longer Katsuki went without seeing anyone, the more stressed he got. What the actual fuck was going on?
It didn’t take him long to spot a few cameras. Were they watching him? Why?
Still, he stayed silent, gun at the ready. He was mildly comforted by the fact he had a brand-new gun decked out in Midoriya Industries tech. With one of these guns and a singular mag, Katsuki could do a whole lot of damage. And he had a lot more than one mag.
An entire floor of this place seemed to be storage and workrooms, all entirely unoccupied. Silently, stealthily, Katsuki looked into each one before moving on. When he climbed the stairs at the end of the hall, he heard the first noise.
Talking, laughter.
Katsuki continued to creep up the stairs, eyes darting around. This floor looked more residential, so to speak. There were massive glass windows, a huge living room with a TV—where the actual fuck was he? The gray light coming through the windows at least informed him it was now daytime.
As he followed the noise, he quickly realized it was definitely the noise of a TV or video somewhere, not a real conversation.
Heart hammering, he followed it down the hall, pressing his back to the wall outside where the room with the noise was. He drew in a deep breath before glancing around the corner into the room.
Quickly, he pulled back, keeping his breath quiet. There was someone there. They were facing away from him, towards the windows. In his quick glance, he’d seen the room was a massive kitchen.
Fuck, this was risky. But this guy was the only one he’d seen so far. Even if he was armed, Katsuki had the element of surprise. He was confident that he could get the upper hand and get some answers out of this guy.
One more deep, even breath and Katsuki stepped into the room, hardened glare and red eyes looking down the barrel of the gun, “Put your—”
It was a good thing Katsuki wasn’t trigger happy or easily startled, because at the first sound of Katsuki’s voice the guy actually shrieked—a high pitched, frankly childish noise—and dropped what he was holding. It immediately shattered against the ground, but the guy was already half turned. Having spotted Katsuki his hands flew into the air, and he stumbled back a step, completely ignoring what he’d dropped.
“D-don’t shoot! Please!” the man pleaded and looked so terrified that Katsuki almost bought it.
The man looked about Katsuki’s age, mid- to late-twenties. He was dressed in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized, vibrantly colored comic book themed hoodie. He had the hood pulled over his head, but his hair hung out of it, nearly in his eyes, and it seemed to be a frizzy, dark green mess. He was very pale, and sort of plain-looking, with some freckles dotting his face. His eyes were bright green, and they were currently so wide they looked to be taking up at least half his face. Without a doubt, his most defining feature was the massive scar marring the majority of his right cheek.
It was hard to tell the man’s build with the baggy clothes. He was maybe a bit shorter than Katsuki, and probably average build, but Katsuki wasn’t taking any fucking chances.
“Hands behind your head,” Katsuki stepped closer slowly, body tensed and eyes locked on the man as he followed directions quickly. “You move a muscle, and I shoot, got it?”
“Yes, sir!” the man squeaked out.
“You armed?” Katsuki barked. His eyes briefly darted down to see the thing the guy had dropped was a bowl—now in shards that were scattered across the tiles along with the food it had held.
“No! Not armed!” the man sounded like he was hyperventilating, his words coming out as weak gasps.
Katsuki had seen every trick in the fucking book. People often tried to play dumb to have him put his guard down. Normally, he wouldn’t fall for this shit, but… the guy seemed very genuinely terrified. He was a good actor.
This was the guy they left to guard him? Was it meant to be an insult? Because it definitely felt like one.
“Who the hell are you?” Katsuki asked, eyes locked on the guy’s face for traces of lying or signs the guy might make a move to fight.
“M’dor’ya,” the man gasped between hyperventilating breaths, visibly trembling now. “’Z’ku.”
Well, that had been completely incomprehensible. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the guy, who winced visibly in reaction.
“Okay, calm the fuck down!” Katsuki snapped, his angry demeanor far from calming. “I don’t know if this is an act or what but cut it out! I’m not gonna fucking shoot you if you cooperate!”
Frantically the man nodded, looking desperately eager as he seemed to force himself to take a few deep breaths even as he didn’t so much as blink as he stared at the gun in utter terror.
“I-I’ll cooperate! I swear!”
“Okay, you can put your hands down,” Katsuki kept the gun trained on him. “But keep your hands where I can fucking see them, got it?”
“Yes, got it!” the man squeaked, still panting and nodding frantically. Almost robotically he moved his hands down to his sides but kept them almost comically still and stiff.
“What’d you say your name was?” Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Deku?”
“N-no, sir, it’s—”
“I’ll call you Deku,” Katsuki cut him off, out of patience. “Suits you.”
Deku nodded frantically in agreement, a few tears slipping out of his eyes that went ignored.
“Sir, please—” he started, finally having regained enough breath to string together semi-coherent sentences. “I can give you money, okay? As much as you want, just please—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki snapped, moving to snap closed the man’s laptop on the counter—the source of the noise he’d heard earlier. He glanced around the massive kitchen. Once again, no one else was home. Just this guy.
It made no sense. Even if this was a third party, they should know that just leaving this one frankly unimpressive guy to guard Katsuki was a stupid fucking idea.
“So, Deku, where the hell is everyone?” Katsuki asked angrily, glancing around the empty room yet again before leveling his glare back on Deku.
“Everyone?” Deku repeated, tone alarmed and still standing abnormally still.
“Yeah,” Katsuki glared, unwilling to yield. “Haven’t seen a goddamn person this whole time. The hell kinda security is that? Are you the security?” He scoffed.
“Wha… um…” Deku gaped, confusion mixing with the terror in his eyes. “The… um… the security is usually pretty good. Not—” Deku trembled, then managed to say, all in a rush, “Well, I mean—I mean it’s impressive you got past it!”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes at him. Was that supposed to be a joke? There wasn’t a goddamn bit of security between the garage he’d been left in and this place. Outside of the random cameras dotted here and there.
He needed to speak to someone more competent. Someone in charge. He could feel himself getting dangerously woozy again, and as unexceptional as this man appeared to be, he had no intentions of passing out near him and risking getting killed.
“Where is everyone, Deku?”
“Oh, um—” Deku looked distressed, conflicted.
Katsuki shifted the gun in his hand to emphasize its presence. “Thought you were gonna cooperate, Deku? You gonna cause problems for me now?”
“No! No!” Deku rushed to say, before huffing out a breath. “Um—it’s just me. Here.”
Deku was tense all over, terrified and appearing to be gauging Katsuki for some sort of reaction.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “There’s no one else in this entire place?”
“No, sir,” Deku shook his head frantically, another tear tracing down his cheek.
“What the hell?” Katsuki looked around the room once more before his eyes landed back on Deku. “How stupid are you guys?”
Deku winced.
“You underestimating me, Deku?” Katsuki snarled, surging closer. Deku cried out a small, frightened noise and cowered slightly, but Katsuki only pressed the gun right over Deku’s sternum, leaning into his space. “You fucks really don’t think you even need to tie me up? What the hell did you think was gonna happen, leaving me in the trunk of that car, in the same room with some fucking guns?! Hah?!”
“What?!” Deku sobbed, breathing quickly and unevenly again as he seemed terrified to even blink, staring at Katsuki with wide, watery eyes. “I—what’re you talking about?”
“Do you think I’m stupid, Deku?!”
“N-no, sir!” Deku cried, trembling all over. “Please, I’ll cooperate! I just don’t understand what you’re talking about!”
Katsuki’s eyes burned into Deku’s massive, green teary ones for a moment. Two moments. Before he scoffed and pulled back, stepping back away from Deku.
“You really think you can kidnap me?!” Katsuki shouted, all his fury from his nightmare of a week boiling to the surface. “ME?! And there won’t be fucking consequences?!”
Deku’s brow furrowed, and he looked alarmed as well as terrified. “Uh, s-sir. I think there’s been some sort of m-misunderstanding. I didn’t kidnap you! I wouldn’t!”
“Well, that much is fucking obvious,” said Katsuki as he rolled his eyes at this pathetic minion’s crying.
Deku looked appalled, eyes darting down to the gun and then back up at Katsuki.
“Then… why… why’re... what…” he stuttered, confused and overwhelmed.
Katsuki glared at the man. He’d had enough of this idiot, and his vision was starting to get hazy again. He was running out of time.
“Enough of this,” he snapped. “Fine, you’re alone here for whatever stupid fucking reason. Where’s your boss, then?”
“My… boss?”
“Are you deaf and stupid?!” Katsuki half-shouted. “Yes, your boss! If the boss isn’t here, call him. Tell him he can go fuck himself, and—who are you, like the tech guy or something?”
Deku blinked, looking the least terrified and most confused that he had yet. “I… guess?”
“Right. Tell your boss he can go fuck himself, and if he doesn’t agree to meet me, I’ll kill his tech guy that he left alone in a building with me,” Katsuki snorted in disbelief again at how stupid of a decision that was.
“I…” Deku started to say, glancing down at the gun and swallowing. “Um… are you alright?”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“You’re… well, you’re bleeding a lot,” Deku was speaking softly, something like honest-to-god concern making its way onto his features with each passing moment even as his voice trembled. “I… well… I think you might be a bit confused.”
“Confused?” Katsuki snarled, going to point the gun back at Deku and gritting his teeth when he swayed on his feet and had to move a hand from the gun to grab at the kitchen counter for balance. “Fuck you, Deku! You callin’ me stupid?”
“No, no!” Deku shook his head frantically, even as his eyes remained wide with terror and confusion and something that was undoubtedly concern. “I’m not, I swear! It’s just that—oh my god!”
Katsuki pitched forward towards the floor so suddenly that he hadn’t a moment to stop himself, the gun hitting the ground and going off—a shriek and some other noises following right after. And then Katsuki was out yet again.