Weeks turned into months. My mother and Eri slowly started to heal. They laughed, they talked, they even started to reclaim some semblance of normalcy. But my own missions were becoming increasingly dangerous.
Every night, I went out, dismantled another human trafficking gang, and every night, I ran into a goddamn hero. It started with Shoto, then Kirishima, Denki, Sero… it was like they were waiting for me. I had a sinking feeling Bakugo was orchestrating all of this. He was tenacious, determined to expose me, and it was clear he'd rallied his little hero squad to his cause.
I groaned and contacted Shinso. "We have more issues than just Bakugo. His friends are on my tail."
"I'll deal with it," Shinso said, his voice flat. I could practically hear the exhaustion in his tone.
"I owe you majorly," I said, already calculating how I could possibly repay him.
"Just stay alive, Izuku," he replied, and hung up.
I needed those heroes off my back. They were getting in the way, making it harder to fulfill my other missions, the ones that kept me up at night, the ones that no one else seemed willing to touch.
The encounters with the heroes started to lessen, the pressure eased, but I knew it wouldn't last. One night, after a particularly brutal rescue operation, I found myself slumped in an alley, trying to calm my nerves with a cigarette. The shadows seemed to press in, the city lights blurring into a hazy glow.
Then I heard the unmistakable sound of explosions.
Bakugo. He was standing at the end of the alley, his eyes burning with a familiar intensity. He was ready for a fight, again.
"Deku," he snarled, the word dripping with venom. "This ends tonight."
I sighed. I was in no mood for this. My body ached, my mind was exhausted, but I knew there was no talking him down. He was too far gone, blinded by his perception of justice.
He lunged, throwing a punch that I barely managed to block. His explosions ripped through the air, the smell of gunpowder filling my nostrils. I countered with a punch of my own, connecting with his jaw. The fight was on.
We traded blows, a furious dance of fists and explosions. I dodged, weaved, parried, my movements fueled by adrenaline and years of street fighting. His explosions were wild, unpredictable, but I was faster, more agile.
Then, something strange happened. I dodged another explosion, my hand outstretched, a desperate attempt to create some distance between us. And then I felt it: a burning sensation in my palm, a flicker of heat, and I saw it.
White flames.
Bursting from my hand.
I gasped, stumbling back in shock. Bakugo froze, speechless, his eyes wide with disbelief. I had a quirk? After all this time? It didn't make sense. But it was there, crackling in my hand, a raw, untamed power.
I grinned, a surge of exhilaration coursing through me. This changed everything.
I was about to unleash the flames, ready to even the playing field, when Bakugo, with a speed I hadn't anticipated, moved like lightning and pinned me against the wall. He was close, too close, his breath hot on my face.
And then he did something completely unexpected. He slowly, tentatively, touched my skin. His calloused fingers traced the line of my jaw, the curve of my neck.
"Off, Katsuki!" I yelled, my voice laced with a barely suppressed panic. "Get off me!"
He grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes, and pressed closer. "What's wrong, Deku? Scared?"
I hated this. Everyone who truly knew me understood my aversion to physical touch. The suffocating feeling of confinement, the violation of personal space, it triggered something deep inside me, a primal fear I couldn't explain.
I tried to push him away, but he was stronger, his grip unyielding. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I was about to ignite my flames, consequences be damned, when a burst of blue fire erupted from the other end of the alley. A grey scarf, familiar and unwelcome, wrapped around Bakugo, pulling him away from me.
Dabi stood there, a wide, unsettling grin plastered on his face. Beside him, Shinso, his expression stoic but his eyes blazing with a quiet fury.
"Thanks…" I mumbled, my voice hoarse.
"Anytime, boss," Dabi smirked, before disappearing back into the shadows.
Shinso didn't say a word. He simply knocked Bakugo out cold, leaving him slumped against the wall. Then, he grabbed my hand, his touch surprisingly gentle, and led me away. He didn't speak as he took me back to my mansion, and he didn't release my hand until we in the safety of my office.