Chapter Text
They ended up taking a very packed taxi, getting dropped off a few blocks away from the shelter. Danger Zone had to take off some of their masks and their more telling equipment but it wasn’t so bad considering they stuffed everything into the bad of money that Ichiji had picked up.
It had to be somewhere around dawn, considering that the night sky was getting just a smidge lighter, and Bakugou groaned knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep by the time he wanted to get the shelter open for the day. Maybe he could get one of the others to do it considering that they’re significantly less grumpy than he is when lack of sleep is a factor.
After a few minutes of not so sweet, sweet talk, Bakugou was able to get Sero to take over opening duties for the morning and he blissfully took a shower. Searingly cold water always felt nice on his overheated skin and Bakugou was basking in the glacier waters, a wicked idea came over his mind.
He scrambled out of the shower, barely having enough mind to dry off and get some shorts on before he raced upstairs and up a ladder to get to the shelter. There, he made a beeline through the rooms, his eyes scanning over everyone, looking for Ichiji. When he found that very freckled face, he took him by the shoulders and looked him dead in his eyes.
“If you were used at the asswipes personal pause button, does that mean you know where he likes to go to? As in, his house or his den or whatever the fuck he wants to call the place he settles his ass most of the time?” Bakugou was speaking in a hushed tone, and he knew that he was looking a bit more than just a little crazed because Ichiji gave him a wide eyed look.
“Well- yeah- I guess.” He answered, his voice low as well.
Bakugou did something that no one was going to be able to accuse him of ever again. He hugged the kid, a downright, rib cracking hug. Because he just gave Bakugou the best fucking information that he could possibly have that morning.
There was no time to sleep as Bakugou took Ichiji and Chikara into the bottom part of the shelter, the squad’s home, and laid down his tentative plans and ideas.
“So I know this is going to get ugly, just fucking horrible. We’ve known that things could get like this for as long as we’ve known we were going to be villains. But you guys are technically civilians and innocents in the grand scheme of things. There is no one here who is going to force you to comply with us, or to go along with what we are going to be doing so don’t think that there is no options here for you.” Bakugou looked in between Ichiji and Chikara as he said that, making sure that they knew he was being truthful in the whole ordeal. When they nodded, he continued.
“I just needed to say all of that first before we really get started on some plans. So. Are you two ready for what I have swimming in my head? This is the perfect time to back out of this. You can still stay here at the shelter, you can still be here and help out, while not doing this side of things with us. It’s understandable to want to get rid of doing shady shit, especially after that asswad and the shit he did to you.”
Bakugou gave them both long looks, making sure they didn’t bulk underneath something as simple as his eyes. When neither of them looked away, or even commented about leaving, Bakugou nodded and gave a small smile.
“Al- fucking- right. Let’s do this shit.”
~~~~~
The seven of them were outside of a fucking dark ass run down flower shop. It looked like it had definitely seen a bunch of better days, and maybe that was the point. Who was going to look for some fucking sleazy yakuza boss in a flower shop?
Bakugou chanced a look to the people around him as they walked calmly to the building.
Ashido and Chikara were holding hands, Ashido slipping small words of encouragement to Chikara every so often. Although she may have a strength quirk, her disposition was rather meek and mild most of the time. At least from what Bakugou has been able to see. He was so used to strength quirk people being loud, and boisterous to match their muscles.
Ichiji and Kaminari had found a friendship within each other and it made Bakugou feel a bit more at ease considering how he was worried about stunting some of the squad’s socialization needs by becoming villains.
Sero was flipping through the different lenses of his helmet, the different modes getting reflected by the glow on his face.
Kirishima was next to Bakugou holding a giant loud speaker over his shoulder. He had a wicked grin on his face, his sharp teeth making it look even that much more threatening.
All seven of them were decked out to the tee with everything that Bakugou could have thought about bringing. Anything that could possibly give them a bit of an edge within the battle that they were planning. No doubt, Misuborashī, the shit stain that he was, expected them.
It might have not helped that Bakugou sent a very strongly worded letter to this same flower shop just a few days ago. Okay, maybe the letter wasn’t more than ‘BE PREPARED FUCKER’. Who cares about semantics though? Definitely not Bakugou.
With a mental checklist, Bakugou was going through everything. With how anxious he got with preparation and everything about being the best, he found that the familiar weight of dense cotton wasn’t clouding his chest like it usually did.
“So, when we get in there, the front room is a regular flower shop, and then his usual lounging area is in the back of the place. It’s kind of big, by flower shop standards, but not by, I guess, bad guys' hang out spots?” Ichiji’s voice tilted up at the end, giving away his unsureness. “I don’t know, I haven’t been into many places where bad guys just chill. Um- once we get into the back of the shop, it’s pretty much just one giant room. He likes to be in this throne knock off kind of chair, it’s really not going to be hard at all to see him. It will be hard to get to him though. Usually, when he’s here, he has a lot, like a hella lot, of people here too.”
“Give us some odds on what we’re up against.” Bakugou’s voice was low, but it was definitely heard by them all.
“Ah- maybe ten to one? I don’t- I don’t fight well but I will try to pause people as much as I can. I can usually only do about ten people at a time so it’s not that great, but it’s something.” Ichiji offered, and Bakugou paused.
“Kid, I told you already, this is everything that you can do for us. I know you want a crack at this dude but really, once we get in there, it’s going to be a mess. I don’t want to have to fucking worry about keeping you safe, while also fighting these bitches. So this is the end of the line for you. After we go in there, run. Run to the police, tell them what you can about this dude, and maybe by the end of the night, we’ll meet up with you back at the shelter. You know the code for the front door.” Bakugou wasn’t going to mention the countless times he had told that whole thing to Ichiji over the past few days while they had been planning everything.
“I don’t like the idea of pretty much sending you guys to your deaths.” Ichiji replied quickly.
“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence in us.” Sero remarked just as quickly, a sly smirk on his face.
“I’ve tried to tell you guys, they’re fucking crazy. They’re going to go for the kill, and there’s a lot of really good quirks in there. This is like- Misuborashī’s version of the X-men or something. The Avengers?” Ichiji looked back at the building with a worried glance and Bakugou rolled his eyes.
“And we literally don’t care. Good quirks or not, if they think they’re going to come out of this fight living, then they have to bury me twenty meters down. I will keep resurrecting myself to finish this job if I fucking have to.” Bakugou grumbled, his words still clear for everyone around them to hear.
“That’s a fucking image. Just imagine zombie Baku growling somehow more than he already does.” Kaminari leaned on Ashido and smiled brightly at Bakugou.
The streets around them were empty like everyone around them knew something was going to happen. It would be dumb for anyone to stick around and get caught up in the crosshairs of everything. Bakugou didn’t care one bit if they got the cops or heroes called on them and he was about to let all of his cares go.
“When the music starts, I need you to scamper off. What fun is it if we use you as a crutch for this? That’s a cheap move, and I have rich tastes.” Bakugou licked his teeth and let out a tch.
With a feral smile, Bakugou looked over to Kirishima and gave him a nod. That was when Kirishima set down the speaker and looked over to Kaminari who was already pulling out his phone to connect to the speaker. The little jingle of the speaker broke the stillness of the air.
Soon the guitar intro to their chosen song started playing. And it was fucking loud. Kaminari had spent more than a few hours hot wiring and splicing together more than a few speakers to created a fucking homunculus chimera of a piece of tech.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it was a cold blooded premeditated murder.” Said some faceless man.
Bakugou rolled his wrists, feeling the cracking of his joints as he did so. The beat dropped and he noted the speaker getting louder and louder until it was deafening out on the street. Kaminari definitely was feeling his flare of the dramatic with the entrance they were creating for themselves.
There was an outlet on the outside of the building and Kaminari went up to it, his hand and fingers spread wide as he slapped a hand over it, his other hand on the speaker. A flash of blue sparked and it was only another second as the song started blaring from the building itself, everything within it that had a speaker now connected to the stream of music they had planned.
“Brain pain again, can’t remember my name, yeah!” It was a low voice but the allusion was lost as it was set to a deafening volume.
At the beat of the screaming ‘yeah!’ , Bakugou blasted the door of the flower shop open. An empty front room welcomed them, petals of various flowers fluttering in the air from the destruction that just tore through the room.
Their music was coming from the intercom speakers and Bakugou looked around the room, for any hint of movement from an actual person. “This distance is sickness, I’m super nihilistic, yeah!”
Bakugou started muttering under his breath to the lyrics coming through, and he didn’t hide the fact that he was bobbing his head along with the music. It was a really catchy song, plus there was the fact that he could feel every beat and word in his bones.
“Do we exist inside of an acid trip?” This was Mina’s favorite line, and Bakugou turned to see her sliding around the floor, making a figure eight with her acid boots as she was looking around the shop of anyone as well.
“Or is this flux born from a fantasist?” That’s when Bakugou saw the first bit of movement out of the corner of his eye. Some fucking dude with glowing hands rushed at them and it was the worst decision of his life.
Why? Because Kirishima took a step forward and wound back a fist, his hand hardened to hold onto that pair of brass knuckles that Bakugou had made for him, but this time they were modified even farther.
Those brass knuckles were easily doubled in size, with large spikes along the knuckle line that shot out about five centimeters. As Kirishima’s knuckles descended down, the spikes pierced into the guy’s head. Bakugou cannot tell you of a time that he has seen someone’s lights get snuffed out faster. It was like seeing a live action brutal lobotomy.
The guy fell and slumped harshly against the floor, the red blood oozing from his head spreading fast.
“My make believe idiosyncrasy.” Another line that Bakugou felt to closely to. Another guy came out of the same door that the other seemed to come out of, and it seemed like they were dealing with a speedster, considering that Bakugou could only see flashes of color as the guy zoomed to and fro in the room. With each new zip past them, someone got hit, smacked, tripped, something.
“Help me.” Sero shot a long piece of tape out onto the floor, and it tripped up the guy, nearly launching him into the wall. Immediately without even a singular word, Ashido rushed forward, her hands out and swiping over the guy.
His screams matched the scream in the song, a little too well.
“Just wanna party on my deathbed!” Ah, they made it to the chorus. Where that fucking sleaze ball of an asswipe was hiding, Bakugou hoped he enjoyed the super special song they picked out just for him. They were supposed to be going to their deathbed right? Why not have some fun on the way there?
Two more people came out of the door and Kaminari didn’t hesitate as his personal favorite line came up on the song.
“I’m here to live my life electric!” Kaminari’s electricity came out of his hands at a speed faster than anything Bakugou had ever seen, including the fucking speedster they just dealt with. A netted blanket of lightning bolts and sparks covered the floor, reaching the two new people and frying them to crisps, the smell of their bodies burning stunk up the room like a bad BBQ.
Who ordered long pig? Not Bakugou.
Okay, okay, bad joke but Bakugou still thought it was funny.
Maybe he would have to give up pork tonkatsu for a little bit just so he didn’t think about the smell that was currently flooding the room.
Immediately, there was some coughing behind Bakugou and he knew it was Sero. He was somehow yelling and coughing over the sound of the music playing. “Dude, what the fuck! I know I was thinking about going fully vegetarian but you didn’t have to force me to make that decision right now. It fucking reeks in here now.” Sero went to the door of the flower shop and started swinging it back and forth, making some of the smoke and smell leave the room.
Bakugou couldn’t blame him, not really.
Kaminari only shrugged his shoulders and wiggled his fingers at Sero, small sparks coming out of the tips in a little show.
A gush of water swept into the room, hitting Bakugou in the chest. Immediately, he was knocked back into the wall behind him. The water stream was a constant pressure on himself, the weight of it making his chest press into himself harshly, his breath coming in short gasps. Unlucky for whoever this bastard was, Bakugou has already learned his lesson with him and his disadvantage with water.
Although the stream was still weighing on him, Bakugou reached into one of his pockets and pulled out one of those condiment squeeze bottles that you can see at any diner. Inside it was regular ole cooking oil, but it was mixed with some of his honey sweat, the mixture inside a dark tan from the near burnt sugar quality of it.
Bakugou tossed it into the air, hoping one of his numbskulls caught it. They had talked about different strategies and methods of fighting before even setting foot outside of their door to come find this fucker. They knew what he had planned already, and he just needed one of them to fucking follow through.
Just as suddenly as he had been knocked back, Bakugou was let off of the wall, the water petering out as a shrill scream filled the air. Bakugou looked up from the floor, where he was catching his breath, and found some fucking dude set ablaze. Kirishima stood there, wide eyed as he held the squeeze bottle in his hand, his other hardened into points. They had recently found out that Kirishima could make sparks with his hardened fingers, much like a flint and steel.
Which worked like grease on a fire with Bakugou’s quirk.
Pun fully and irreversibly intended.
The oil mixed with his quirk was holding well against the vein attempts for the guy to wash himself off with his quirk. Honestly, you would think that he knew that water and oil didn’t mix.
As his screams died down, Bakugou wondered if they were going to get a real fight or if they were all going to keep coming one by one. Super dumb on this fucker’s part.
Then a loud crashing sound filled the room, dust and debris filling the room like it was replacing the oxygen. A large and hulking silhouette stood before them.
At this point, Bakugou should know better. The universe or some fucking higher being and/or power has it out for him. They read his mind as he thinks of things and throws countless wrenches and storms just to fuck with him. Is it because he’s so gorgeous? Or dangerously hilarious? Maybe it was because he was so humble.
Yeah fucking right.
A slow chuckle started to resound within the room, and Bakugou had to hold back rolling his eyes. Just barely though because it was really fucking hard.
“Ew, it’s such a cliche to come into a fight like this.” Ashido spoke aloud with clear disdain in her voice. Bakugou noted a hint of a valley girl voice, something that he knew Ashido liked to add into conversations to mess with people.
“Dude, it really is. Like at this point we know we’re going to have a lot of assholes to fight and deal with and it would have just been better for you to come at us instead of trying to create this whole suspension scene. This is not a movie, I don’t know who told you otherwise.” Kaminari followed closely after Ashido, leaning back on his heels as he watched the scene unfold.
“You’re adding unnecessary shit to this whole thing. Is it because you’re scared? Are there cameras in here? Can you guys back there see how bad we’re getting rid of your buddies?” Kirishima was next, adding in his two cents.
“It’s kind of sad, in a way.” Sero looked around and met Bakugou’s eyes, a half smirk forming as he looked around them all at the tattered remains of their previous take downs.
“It’s not just sad, it’s fucking pathetic. The only way you can win here is if you have something truly fucking extraordinary. And I highly fucking doubt you do. We’ve seen extraordinary, and nothing of the kind with going to end up being just some fucking back alley grunts to some fucking grease ball with a small dick.” Bakugou sneered as the rest of the dust settled fully.
“Can you speak without adding ‘fucking’ to every sentence?” Kaminari asked, a bit of humor laced within his words. Bakugou actually did roll his eyes that time.
“Fucking no, you know this.” Bakugou responded, still shouting over the blaring music. They really hadn’t thought of needing to communicate with the fucking music.
“UGH!” Yelled the fucking hulking bitch. He stomped forward, like each of his feet weighed over a hundred kilos each. That’s when Bakugou gave him a proper look.
He had to be easily three or maybe even four meters tall. Bakugou couldn’t even guess how much he weighed, people and muscle can be very deceiving. There wasn’t much to him besides being tall and muysclular though. His clothes were plain and even maybe a bit too dingey. Bakugou would hate to have to try to find clothes being that dude. Maybe that’s why they were dingey, haven’t bought anything new in awhile. Being a henchman probably didn’t pay all that well.
Sad.
It was also a bit sad that he wasn’t going to live for much longer if Bakugou had anything to say about it.
With a large jump, Bakugou leaped forward and slammed an exploding hand onto the guy’s face, feeling the way that hair burned underneath his hand. But when he dropped back down, that was the only thing that had gotten burned.
Muscle Man had a haughty grin on his face as Bakugou looked up at him. “I’m not just strong, I have skin thick like an elephant’s.”
“Oh this is going to be grody.” Ashido immediately responded, pulling out her acid filled water gun.
Muscle Man looked her up and down and started chuckling like he was seeing a kid pull out a stick to fight him with.
“Bondage! Blood Riot! Can you two keep his mouth open for me? Please?” Even her voice held a tone of grimace, as she squared her feet and shoulders, gaining a solid stance. Bakugou felt like he was already connecting dots on what Ashido had planned so he ducked low, going underneath the behemoth’s legs to pop up behind him.
As Sero and Kiri neared, Bakugou took hold of some of the hair that had stayed intact on the back of the mother fucker’s head, making him jerk back at the pull. Kirishima grabbed onto the guy’s bottom jaw, his fingers hardened to prevent any injury from any bites. Sero, with the patience of Mother Teresa, wrapped him with endless bolts of tape, somehow weaving between them and only getting muscle for brains trapped within.
It was all bakugou could do to watch as Ashido took a running start and jumped onto Kirishima’s shoulders, using him as a perch as she shot with the acid guns, directly into the mouth of the muscle man.
Immediately, the sound of sizzling filled the air, and the guy swallowed the acid like it was nothing more than just fruit punch. He started to chuckle at Ashido again, only for it to get cut off with a groan. A gurgling noise came from him, much like Kirishima after he eats some nachos, and Bakugou did not want to smell whatever diasterious fart that was bound to follow.
But there wasn’t any kind of fart, or burp, anything to show an upset stomach. No, instead there was a convulsion, the guy’s body jerking in their hold. Bakugou dropped his hold, looking to get enough distance in between the two of them just in case he needed to react. Kirishima and Sero both moved back, Ashido dropping into Kirishima’s arms as he darted away.
The behemoth stood there, almost like he was dazed and confused. Small muscle jerks and spasms rocked his body, making him twitch like a robot being controlled to do something. Then he threw up, right there, in the middle of the fucking room. Bright red trailed down his chin and splattered onto the floor, mixed with what looked like coffee grounds.
His breath was heaving as he tried to regain some kind of composure, looking at Ashido like she was the devil herself. For the first time that night, Bakugou saw true fear on one of their foes faces. He must have gone his whole life thinking he was undistrucible, only to be served with his mortality on a fucking acid platter.
They all watched as more bile and gunk was hurled out of his mouth, his knees giving out like there was no strength left in his body. With a loud resounding thud, he fell face forward, smacking into his expelled insides.
Blood and… other shit splattered all around them.
It was grody indeed.
The smell was atrocious, just as Bakugou knew it was going to be, but for an entirely different reason.
“Did you really just melt his insides?” It was said by Kaminari, his voice ringing out over the music.
“Yeah! He said he had tough skin so, I don’t know. Figured this could be like that one Thanos meme with Antman. But ya know, with acid.” Ashido shrugged her shoulders walked forward a bit, looking down at the now lifeless body stewing in a puddle of it’s own internal acid concoction.
With a hesitant gesture, Ashido poked a foot at his shoulder, making his body jiggle. Yup, dead as a door nail.
“I’m fucking done with this ‘one by one’ bullshit. I’m too fucking impatient for this.” Bakugou cracked his neck and loved the tingly feeling of popping his neck. The song was coming to an end as he marched forward to the death of others. Palm up and poised to shoot, Bakugou kicked open the door and found a bare bones staircase leading into an open aired room. It looked much like an empty school gym in some fucking dystopian world.
Dark, dank, a hole in the ground filled with concrete to make everything get bathed in a gray light as it bounced off the walls. Lone fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, metal grates covering them. The room was filled to the brime with fuckers, each one their own fucked up version of excited for carnage. Bakugou could see it in their faces.
In the back of the room was in fact a fucking throne, Misuborashī sat there like he owned the fucking world, a self satisfied smirk on his face. Bakugou wonders what it’s going to look like when they separate his head from his body. What face is he going to make then?
The ending notes of their first song finally rang out, and Bakugou was thankful that Kaminari had the amazing idea to hook up the music. Bakugou found he always trained better with music, might as well fight better with it too.
“Landed from the sky and you popped my bubble”
The first line of the song started to blare an Bakugou’s smile turned feral once more. It was one of his favorites, one he picked out specifically for the poorly named ‘villain songs’ playlist Kaminari had made. He didn’t even wait until getting to the bottom of the stairs before he started shooting.
A loud explosion resounded out, taking out at least seven people as the next line played. “Banging on my window, looking for some trouble”
Quick as ever, Bakugou ducked as a flurry of emitter quirks shot out at him. He swung from the metal railing of the stairs, landing onto the floor below with a thunk of his boots. He didn’t know for sure if the others had followed after him. Well, that was before he heard a resounding boom fill the room, one he knew came from Kirishima whenever he landed harshly on the ground while hardened.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not for being subtle” Damn right he’s not. Can’t really be subtle when your quirk is quite literally one of the loudest things in the fucking world. Although stealth isn’t something he’s necessarily bad at, he just didn’t like it all that much. Why would he when he liked shoving his blasts right into people’s faces?
A cold hand was on his arm and he instantly knew it was Sero’s from the long fingers that encircled his wrist. It was commonly a gesture that Sero used to get Bakugou to talk to him. This was not the fucking time to talk.
But Sero didn’t utter a single word, instead he whipped himself around using Bakugou. He gave a sweeping kick to three henchmen, his thick boot used as a battering ram. Immediately after the kick, Sero shot out some tape and it wrapped around one of the exposed pipes within the ceiling, and Bakugou couldn’t help comparing him a bit to that scene from Tangled. The one with Repunzel Swinging from her hair laughing because she was finally getting freedom.
Sero had no right looking that fucking adorable with his wicked grin, kicking multiple people in the face, one right after the other.
“But they really shouldn’t let you leave your house without your muzzle” And here was the fucking line that Bakugou fucking related to. He doesn’t know how many fucking times he’s been told some fucking bullshit like this. Muzzle this, muzzle that. As if his mouth was the worst part of him. He’s not the one with razor sharp shark teeth jutting from his jaws.
“While you're screaming right at me eyes go black, I'm smiling” Another thing that Bakugou related to, he noted as he crouched low to send a blast to someone’s feet, their quirk something like water perpelsion because of the some jets of water coming from their bare feet. Probably wasn’t a good idea to do that, since now their feet are skinned and covered in burns.
Though the hate, through the shit talking, through the fucking anxiety and bullshit, Bakugou tried to fucking stay strong because that’s who he fucking was. He was strong. He was the best. He was the fucking greatest of all time. There wasn’t going to be anything that he put his mind to that would stop him. If he had a goal in mind, he was going to fucking reach it.
And right now? That goal was to fucking kill that bastard that thought he was untouchable.
“Sorry, what did you say? I wasn't listening. I wasn't listening!” Bakugou grabbed onto the neck of someone new, someone insignificant to him, his fingers wrapping around orange skin and blasting, the smell of citrus exploding into the air with the orange spray of blood (was it blood?) covered Bakugou and everyone around them. Was this dude made out of a fucking orange? Bakugou may be fruity but that’s taking it too far.
Okay, bad joke maybe but whatever. He liked it and he was his target audience so that’s all that mattered.
“Lost in my mind 'cause reality bites. You got some plans to ruin my life” Bakugou was going to definitely ruin some lives here. Can’t really live a full life if you were fucking dead, and Bakugou felt within his soul that he was going to leave this place with no surviving souls left within it.
“Me and my friends throw a party in my head lost in my mind 'cause reality bites.” Talking about him and his friends- lovers?- partners? Who the fuck cares about labels- Bakugou spun to give a look around the room, seeing if he could get a glimpse of them, make sure they were still fucking alive underneath all of this dumbassery that was easily over filling the room.
Bakugou was able to spy a burst of pink in the form of something that looked a lot like the sludge monster but Bakugou didn’t let himself think too long about that asswipe. Looked like a big ole pile of shit anyway. No- Ashido was in the middle of the pink sludge monster, wielding it like she was a pilot of some giant ass mecha in some fucking anime.
A pain started to bloom over Bakugou’s side and he had to turn with a sweeping arm, his hand already filled with small sparks to get primed and ready for another blast. As his hand connected with skin, Bakugou blasted indistriminatly. A cry of pain echoed around him but he didn;’t even wait to see if they were down for the count before giving another blast to someone’s face, the searing smell of skin was something that Bakugou was getting very used to.
“Wanna disappear from this conversation, gonna alienate from your bad vibration” Bakugou tossed the body to the side, because he knew that’s all it was anymore. Any memories, any piece of humanity, burned away with his explosions.
He stretched his body once more, craning his neck to see above the swarms of people who were all trying to reach their early deaths.
From across the room, Bakugou spied a flash of red hair, spikes hardened by his quirk. Kirishima seemed to be doing well, he was encased within a ring of people. Seemingly they had made a fight club in the middle fo the room. First rule of fight club- don’t fucking fight someone who is nearly twice your size both in weight and height. Especially if they have fucking spikes coming out of their fists.
There was a quick recession of punches to Bakugou’s face, blocking his view, but there was no pain that went along with it. Were the punches really that weak or was he becoming numb to all of the seasations of everything happening around him? One of those fists came at his face again, and he grabbed onto the wrist as it came close to him. A blast took that hand cleanly off of his arm, like it was a fucking generation one Monster High doll.
Don’t ask how Bakugou knows anything about those fuckers, Ashido just really fucking liked pre-quirk era shit. Especially if it had anything to do with ‘creepy’ things.
“Dear diary, he's the worst. I just killed him, call the hearse.” Damn right tiLLie, gonna fucking kill all of these bitches.
Someone who smelled a lot like hand sanitizer tried to grab onto Bakugou but he dodged out of the way. A cold… gloop… attached itself to Bakugou’s shoulder and he must be fucking get played on because there’s no fucking way that this dude’s quirk was literally hand sanitizer.
Really should have gone for someone else because Bakugou was not the one to go after when your quirk is fucking flammable. Bakugou grabbed onto the glob of the stuff on his shoulder and flung it like he was flinging a wet towel. It plopped and splattered onto the ground with a weird squelching noise and Bakugou sent a small explosion to it.
Immediately, it caught flame and erupted into a blaze that grew to jump along the different spots that the hand sanitizer splattered about. People screamed, many others caught fire, their frantic pat downs and running making chaos break out around Bakugou. Though it’s not like everything was rather orderly beforehand.
Bakugou cackled, watching the flames bloom even bigger. He couldn’t help himself, there was an odd elation he felt whenever he saw fire. Some say it’s because he’s fucking crazy, other’s wanna say it’s because he is a villain afterall. Ashido likes to say it’s because he’s an Aries and fire is his element.
But maybe it’s just because he loved the fucking unpredictability of it.
It gave him an idea.
Quickly, as everyone else’s attention was on the ever growing fire, Bakugou grabbed hand sanitizer guy and held him within a head lock. His breath caught within his throat as Bakugou squeezed onto his windpipe.
“Throw more of it. Now . At all of your buddies here.” Bakugou’s voice was low as he continued to watch. He gave a warning squeeze, flexing his forearm muscles just enough to make it harder to breathe, but not enough to actually cut off air supply. Not yet at least.
Clear gloop started to instantly form within his hands and he was flicking it like a farmer spreading out seeds onto tilled soil. The flames caught the fumes of the new sanitizer and started to spread even more.
Then fires started to really rage, catching more and more people within it’s scoruching arms. Bakugou took a second to himself, watching more of it grow stronger, and he made a decision. With a flick of his arms, Bakugou tossed the guy within his hold into the closest flames. He watched as his clothes caught fire, and then the crackling of skin and fat sounded out next to the screams of agony.
The flames were hot, the orange and red of them getting overcome by the blue. Bakugou started to sweat even more than he already was.
He knew he was going to become a walking box of TNT. The weight of the sweat collecting within his gloves becoming heavier and heavier.
Bakugou started to walk towards the back of the room, fire making paths clear for him as more and more henchmen ran around, either on fire themselves or running to some kind of safety. Bakugou’s fingers started to twitch, knowing what he was planning before his brain even caught up to him.
Misuborashī Asai. Bakugou can see him still seated on that fucking rediculous mocking throne, his eyes scanning over the crowd within the room like he was looking for someone. And he very much probably was, looking for any of the five that vowed to destroy him.
He didn’t seem to care that his hired help was getting killed like ants in the wake of kid with a magnifying glass. No, he sat there, seemingly safe from all of the chaos. Looking down at the whole scene like it was just another day for him. What kind of shit has he seen, what kind of horrors has he inflicted on others to make this- this carnage- nothing more than an average afternoon for him?
Bakugou knew that his whole team was still alive, still fighting.
Flashes of electricity were bright in the corner of Bakugou’s eyes. His eyes flicked to Kaminari and saw a large gash letting blood roll free down his face, but he didn’t seem to even care about that as he used one of his batons to upswing countless volts into someone head.
Sero swung near Bakugou, maybe five meters away as he slammed a heavy foot into another person’s face. His suit was torn in a few different places, dirt and blood covering him all over.
Ashido was smashing large pink muck monster fists onto people, her mask slipping off of her face with each movement within the mess. She looked furious, something that Bakugou could honestly say he has never truly seen from her. There was a fire within her that was raging hotter and harsher than anything else in the room.
Kirishima was dishing out punches to anyone who neared him, making the last thing they saw in their life the spikes adorning his knuckles. Blood covered him like sweat covered Bakugou, making the name Blood Riot seem all too apt of a name.
And Bakugou did his piece, he took out so many of those fuckers, but he had made a promise to himself, to Hiki, to all of the others within their shelter.
He was going to kill the fucker that had irreversibly altered their lives.
He was going to make him answer for the sins he had committed.
Misuborashī Asai was no longer a man, or a human at all. He was nothing short of a demon that prayed on others for his own power and wealth and ego.
Bakugou kept his eyes trained on him as he walked to the throne, people running by him, no one tried to get in his way. By some chance in the world, they either knew better, or didn’t see him at all. Many too concerned of their own lives to follow through with whatever fucking orders Misuborashī had told them.
Glimpses of scared faces and eyes filled with agony flashed and blurred by Bakugou as he continued walking. He could feel every bit of his body, the blanketing pain, the muscles moving under his skin, the way that he could feel the air filling his lungs, and the way that it mixed and mingled with smoke.
His lungs started to burn with how the air was becoming more clouded by the second, but it didn’t stop his feet from moving.
His hands felt heavy along his sides, the knowledge of what he was going to do weighted itself on him like a blanket made from lead.
Everyone was still so caught up in everything they were doing. Bakugou knows the squad was busy with fighting the last stragglers still hanging back, their vow to their boss somehow so strong.
Misuborashī watched the crowd in front of him with nothing short of glee, his dirty teeth in a wide smile as his eyes scanned over the bodies in front of him. Perhaps he deigned himself much like an emperor watching a fight and execution in a coliseum.
Music was still playing, the strong beats creating an atmosphere of of overstimulation. The bass of the song was felt in Bakugou’s bones, the drums thumping on the inside of his skull like they belonged there.
“The skies are black with lead-filled rain, A morbid painting on display. This is the night the young love died, Buried at each other's side.”
It was at that line that Bakugou finally paused his walking, his eyes finding his new partners around the room again.
Kirishima was getting further engulfed by more people, his movements slowing as fatigue was reaching him. His face was bruised, how the fuck someone was able to get a hit on him while he was unhardened, Bakugou didn’t know.
Sero was wrapped around someone, their arms trying to reach him from where he was holding onto their back. He looked tired as he used his legs to flip the guy into someone else, his movements shockingly less fluid than they usually are.
Ashido wan’t in her muck monster anymore, and she was clutching onto one of her arms, blood trickling from a wound she was trying to cover up. Kaminari stood in front of her, sending wave after wave of electricity at anyone who came close to them. But his movements were sluggish, just barely coming up in time to hit someone before they reached them.
It was then that he knew, he wasn’t going to let them die that night. They were needed in the world, and he was going to make sure they stayed. Even if it meant his life was on the line.
With a bit of the sweat that was steadily collecting in his gloves, Bakugou readied himself and blasted himself into the air. There was a second in the air where time and space seemed to slow, his body going limp like a rag doll for an easier flight. As he started to fall, he flexed his body and focused onto Misuborashī.
Another blast sent him rocketing towards him like a missile, one that was not going to miss his mark.
Twenty meters became ten, and then five, just before Bakugou stopped mid-decent, his body stopping jarringly in the air like someone had pressed pause in a movie. In all actuality though, a web of strings started to wrap around Bakugou’s body, like he was merely a fly caught by a spider.
“Detonate, hello.” Misuborashī’s voice yelled out to Bakugou, a jovial tone in his words. “You can’t seriously believe I would just let myself be up here, in plain view of everyone, without some kind of protection?” He asked it like Bakugou was dumb.
A woman came forward, a chain linking a cuff on one of her wrists to the throne. She looked miserable, and if Bakugou knew anything about the way that Misuborashī treated women, she was. Her fingers of her unchained hand was spinning in the air, like she was some wizard in a movie casting a spell.
“Let me go, and I can get you out of here!” Bakugou yelled to her, trying to fight the bindings.
“Ah! That’s not going to work. Trick me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Oh no, I have some Latin heat here. Darling here only speaks Spanish, but understands a command from me very easily.” Misuborashī said it like he was praising a trained dog, and it sickened Bakugou.
Spanish though… Sero speaks in Spanish nearly as often as he spoke Japanese. Out of all of these years, and what the fuck has Bakugou picked up on it? A distant memories of Sero yelling at the tv, stubbing his toes, singing to countless songs popped into Bakugou’s memory.
“Ah- Ayuda- Ayudame- please- La- La salida yo” Bakugou knew he was butchering what he was searching his mind for, but butchering was better than nothing, fucking sue him.
Her eyes flickered with recognition, and Misuborashī must have seen it because his smile twitched, the shit eating quality of it turning sour. “No!” He said it harshly, small bits of spit flying out at the girl.
“Salida?” Her voice was low, but it was like a beacon of hope for Bakugou.
He nodded furiously, “salida.”
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation as she twirled her fingers one more time, then made a straight line with hand, like she was cutting something off. Immediately, Bakugou dropped in the air but he landed one his feet with a thud. Misuborashī for the first time that Bakugou had seen, actually looked… frightened.
As he fucking should.
Bakugou felt pins and needles race up his legs from the impact but he didn’t pay them any mind as he took the few steps to the precipice of the throne. Misuborashī got up and moved to the side like he was about to run but then he got encased just as Bakugou had, lines of webs covering him from neck to foot.
Bakugou smiled with all of his hatred and anger in the moment, his hands started to spark but an explosion in that moment would be too easy for the shit stain.
No.
He needed something that was personal and painful.
Bakugou finally closed the distance between them and toward over him, his shadow covering Misuborashī like a looming cloud.
Bakugou flexed his hands and curled them into tight fists.
He wound his arm back and punched out, his fist connecting to Misuborashī’s nose first. He drew back and found blood gushing from his nose. Bakugou loved the sight of it.
Another punch to make it fully broken, the sickening crunch of it like music to Bakugou’s ears.
Bakugou took a fistful of Misuborashī’s shirt with his left hand, using it as leverage to bring Misuborashī into another punch, this one aimed for his eye.
Over and over again, Bakugou punched him.
One for Hiki, one for Ashido, one for every fucking person that is now in their shelter, one for everyone in the squad, and one for all of the fucking times that Bakugou fucking wanted nothing more than Misuborashī’s death.
His face was blooming in a dark array of bruises, the red and yellows darkening into vile shades of purple and green.
The smoke in the room was getting thicker, Bakugou could hear something- someone- talking to him. At him? But he couldn’t hear anything besides the fucking whimpering of Misuborashī in his hold. The webs that had encased fell off some time ago, nothing holding Misuborashī back besides his own weakness.
Bakugou didn’t know when Misuborashī stopped moving, maybe it was when blood from the broken nose started to dry. Maybe it was when Bakugou made his eye feel less like a grape and more like crushed jello. Maybe it was when the smoke finally got to him.
But Bakugou kept going, kept punching. There was something inside of him that just… kept going.
Arms wrapped around Bakugou, and he was ready for the next part of his fight, only to find Kirishima’s wide and concerned eyes on him.
“We need to go, before this whole place is in flames.” His voice was low. When had the music stopped?
Shakily, Bakugou nodded his head, letting his grip on Misuborashī go, his body falling limp to the floor.
The girl watched as Bakugou warmed his hand and made abreak in the chain with an explosion. She was nodding along to something that Sero was saying.
Oh- Sero was still okay. That’s good.
Bakugou’s mind wasn’t there, wasn’t thinking, he was only going. Going with Kirishima and Sero and the girl. Leaving the room full of flames behind.
It was somewhere around there that Bakugou heard the sirens.
They can’t go to the shelter- they can’t possibly take the cops to it. Can’t fucking take themselves looking the way they did to traumatize their people anymore than they already were.
Kirishima’s hand was solid in Bakugou’s, it was the only thing that was grounding Bakugou enough to this plain of thought.
Kirishima led them to the back of the flowershop- a door already open back there and Bakugou saw more of an industrial park just past the door. And a car. How the fuck did they get a car?
He wasn’t able to ask any questions as he was pushed into the back seat hastily, getting squished with Sero and the girl, Kirishima going up front with Kaminari and Ashido. Fuck- they’re okay too. Breathing at least.
Kaminari waited no time in pushing down on the gas, as hard as he could, making the tires squeal as they started moving, the whole car lurching with the sudden movement.
It was all that Bakugou could do to lean forward, his words weak and stuttering as he spoke. “Muh- my parents. Go- go there.”
~~~~~
Bakugou burst into the door of his childhood home with a loud bang, the wood of the door slamming back and he just knew there was now a dent in the wall from the door handle. But he didn’t care, not when they needed first aid as soon as possible.
Familiarity took ahold of Bakugou’s feet as he made a bee line to a supply closet on the first floor, thanking every god, goddess, deity, what fucking ever, that his parents were always prepared with mishaps with his fucking quirk.
He hauled an oxygen tank from the closest, plus a giant red first aid bag. Bakugou rushed from the supply closest as quickly as he could and tossed the bag at Kirishima. He took a quick inhale to the oxygen tank, making sure that it was flowing before he passed the mask over to Kaminari, who had been coughing the entire ride to the Bakugou household.
Bakugou knew what the fuck the signs of smoke inhilation was, and he’d be damned if any of them bit the dust because of some fucking carbon dioxide.
Kirishima set to removing the hastily used piece of cloth on Ashido’s arm, the blood making the cloth sticky as he peeled it off. As he was doing that, Ashido was putting some low grade acid over Kirishima’s arm, feeling the raised bumps of cracked skin there.
That was something that Bakugou knew Ashido had practiced with for her quirk, something that could help with all of their quirks in some way or another. Something for the dryness and cracking that Kirishima experienced often, burns from Bakugou’s explosions and Kaminari’s electricty, plus any kind of adhesive burns or rashes from Sero’s tape.
Kaminari was sprawled over the couch, sucking in lungfuls of the oxygen, trying to even his breath so he didn’t get suck into a panic attack in the middle of the whole situation.
Sero was hunched over the kitchen sink, sucking down water from the faucet like he was a camel.
All it took was a few seconds of Bakugou standing in the precipice of the room to realize everything that had happened that evening. To let it all sink in. Jesus fucking Christ on a stick sideways.
How many people had they killed that night? How many people suffered in that fire?
A piece of Bakugou wanted to stop and think of the night, but he knew he couldn’t do that just yet.
A sound interrupted Bakugou’s train of thought and he turned, finding his mom and dad at the base of the stairs, their eyes wide and looking over their livingroom. Mitsuki’s eyes flicked to Bakugou, and he was ready for the reprimand of the century. But her eyes softened and grew watery, a small frown deepening on her face.
“Oh honey.” It was all she said, the only words that could have broken Bakugou in that moment. Mitsuki came forward and wrapped her arms around Bakugou, holding him tightly and for the first time in a long while, Bakugou let himself cry.
Hot and stinging tears started to carve streaks down his cheeks, clearing soot and grim from his face. He allowed himself to be weak, to let his mother keep her arms around him as he brought his arms up and clutched at the back of her sleep shirt. He had long grown taller than his mother but just then, there in her arms, he felt like a kid once again.
It was- no, it is - just so fucking much. Bakugou thought he was ready for the world, ready to take it on and make the justice he saw fit. He thought they had it, they could figure it out, and they had for the most part. But there was just something missing and it was something that Bakugou never would have thought he needed.
Something cold and wet brushed over his face, and it startled him back. Mitsuki somehow got a wet cloth and was smoothing it over his face, wiping away all of the mess that was there.
“When I saw the footage of the first bank you guys robbed, I knew instantly it was you five. You have spent so much time underneath my roof, did you really believe that the vain attempts of disguises would make me not recognize you? The world might see five ruthless villains but I will always see you five as snot nosed brats, just fighting for your own happiness.” Her words might have been harsh but her soft voice betrayed her true meaning.
“You’ve been busy.” She muttered, an exasperated sigh escaping her. She didn’t let go of Bakugou, not until he started to pull away on his own. Her bright red eyes shown in the darkness of the room, the only light coming from the light over the oven. There wasn’t an ounce of anger on her face, and Bakugou felt ready to break again. That was until a small hiccup came from behind him.
Bakugou turned and found Kaminari sitting up, the oxygen mask still on his face but his eyes were gushing tears like there was a national drought. Mitsuki gave a last look at Bakugou, and touched his cheek. “You are your mother’s child, you’re strong, and I am so proud of you. Let’s get the rest of them squared away, that sound good?”
He nodded quickly, ignoring how more tears leaked from him and he smiled at her, cupping her hand against his cheek. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.”
It was a long rest of the night. Masaru started cooking quick meals, easy stuff that was gentle on the stomach but still filled them up quickly. Mitsuki and Bakugou went around the room, looking over burns and injuries, their first aid kit getting put through the ringer. By the time that the morning sun was breaching the horizon, Bakugou felt numb from all of the body aches he was experiencing.
Ashido had suffered a bit of a concussion but it was mild, thankfully. The gash that was on her upper arm ran down the side of it for about thirteen centimeters but it wasn’t too deep. Some stitches from Kirishima was enough to hold it well.
Sero had extreme dehydration from both the fire and from over use of his quirk. A few electrolyte drinks and a jar of pickle juice later, he was laughing at some late night movie that was playing on the television. While he had harsh bruises and a swollen eye, he didn’t seem to mind them all that much besides complaining everytime he bumped one of them.
Kirishima was currently soaking in a bath tub filled with Ashido’s special acid plus diluted lotion and conditioner. He looked miserable from the texture of the water he was in, constantly rubbing his fingers together at the slick feeling of it. They had to search the whole house for enough things to help moisterize him, making him lay in Bakugou’s parents tub because it was the biggest one in the household.
Kaminari was able to vent to Mitsuki about anything and everything. Mucus was constantly pooling the the oxygen mask as he was talking and crying, making him have to remove it every so often to wipe it out. Fucking gross to watch in Bakugou’s opinion. He’s throwing out that mask when they’re done.
Bakugou had a few bandages covering him, with a bit of burn cream covering his skin. He had taken a cold shower just an hour ago, thankful for both the cool water on his burns and for being able to clean himself from all of the grim and soot. They all had taken cold showers, orders from Mitsuki, then given once overs by Masaru with the burn cream.
The two Bakugou parents have had much experience from burns and everything that went with them.
As the six of them were sitting in the livingroom, Kirishima still upstairs in his soft torture chamber, there was a heavy silence over them for the most part. Until Ashido broke the silence.
“Thanks, for you know, helping us and not calling the cops when we got here.” Her voice was low but it was thunderous in the quiet of the room.
Mitsuki sighed once more and turned to Ashido, a soft smile on her face. “Sweetie, I know that none of you can truly be that bad. You’re not everything that the news wants us to believe.” Mitsuki shifted a bit in her seat and ran a hand through her hair. For all of Bakugou’s life, he had always believed his mother had such an iron grip on her composure but he was seeing past the carefully made facade that the world knew of Bakugou Mitsuki.
“They’ve mentioned unfortunate… deaths at the hands of ‘Danger Zone’ and even with the knowledge that you guys have killed, I can’t find it within my self to see you any different than the kids that I’ve taken care of these past few years.” There was a stray tear rolling down her face, that soft smile turning sad. “I just need to know if you had to kill them, or if you’ve enjoyed it.”
The question made Bakugou pause, thinking of the times he knew he had taken lives. The room was silent, as if the rest of them were thinking as well on how to answer her. Bakugou was the first to answer.
“No, I don’t think any of us took joy in it. Sure, we tried to laugh, and keep a good attitude, but I think that’s because we didn’t want to spiral into anything after the fact. We didn’t kill needlessly. We’ve helped so many people with the shit that we’ve done.” Ashido answered again, her own sad smile on her face.
“We have a shelter auntie, the people there are so great.” Kaminari was next to speak, his eyes sparkling.
“I don’t want to do this again. Sure, robbing the banks was fun, plus dealing with the gangs, but I don’t think I can do something like last night again.” Sero held his hands together, idly tapping his fingers together.
Things were silent for a bit, all of them lost in their own thoughts.
“Then we don’t. We can keep robbing the wealthy, cleaning up the streets from shit stains, keep the shelter up and running. But no more yakuza or empire shit. No more asswipes that play with people’s lives like this is the Sims. If we stumble onto shit like this again, we can make the heroes take care of it. They can have that shit on their heads.” Bakugou cracked his neck as an informal ending to his mini speech, waiting for someone to add to or rebuttal him.
“I like that.” Kirishima’s voice came from the base of the stairway, covered in clean clothes, his hair down and draped around his face.
“Yeah- yeah- let’s do that.” Kaminari followed, a look of ease on his face.
“Welp.” Mitsuki slapped her knees as she stood and groaned from the effort. “I’ll get breakfast started and then I’m going back to bed after we eat. I may look beautifully twenty years old, but my forty five year body is exshausted.”
~~~~~
By the time they had made it back to the shelter, it was already mid afternoon. Both breakfast and lunch had been served by their workers, plus a few volunteers, and their welcoming was fairly quiet as they made it to the kitchen. Only a few people were out and about in the hallways, most huddled around the television in the common room. Bakugou already had a suspicion on what they were watching, but for once, he didn’t want to see the news coverage of their escapades.
They somehow made it to their basement apartment without having to talk too much to people, besides the quick ‘hello’s here and there.
As they settled into their livingroom, bones aching and muscles tired, Bakugou couldn’t help beside smile, looking over his idiots. “So, where the next hit?”
END