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