Chapter Text
—Dragon, are you in position? — Only Aizawa could make a simple question sound like an order. —Remember, we’re guests of the French government. That means all of us—including you—need to behave. Let’s keep a low profile. Let’s just work on completing this recon mission and get out of here.
Bakugo rolled his eyes. He was already pissed enough that he’d had to ditch Deku’s bachelor party— He put his hand on his chin, subtly adjusting the sleek, premium smartwatch on his wrist—a latest-gen model with cutting-edge tracking and surveillance tech—to ensure the lenses were perfectly focused on the street below. His team was stationed on the balcony, giving them an unobstructed view of the target area. With a discreet press of a button on the side, two slim, optical-grade lenses deployed from the watch’s frame, silently locking onto the bald, slightly overweight man in the khaki suit, who appeared to be waiting for someone.
—Hey, fatty —
—I got it — Kirishima’s voice came through the communication device. — Zen Shigaraki. You bastard, we meet again.
Bakugou kept his focus on the man when he noticed a blonde girl with two hair buns arrive next to Shigaraki. He adjusted the lens configuration so he could activate the system that could capture sound by reading lips. This allowed real-time transcription of their conversation.
—Do you have the prototype? — Zen asked, hands in his pockets.
—No.
—Then why are we even meeting here?
—Because what I have is the final product — The girl answered with a wide smile, showing her sharp teeth, while pulling out a green vial from her bag. If he had to describe it in one word, it would definitely be “sinister.”
—Fuck me, is that the biological weapon? — Bakugo asked, ensuring the system was transmitting the interaction to the rest of the team.
—What the hell? — Hatsume’s voice crackled in the distance. She must be closer to shitty hair
—What? The reports said it would be ready in six months — Kirishima rushed to add.
—We need to secure that package.
—Negative, Bakugo. We do not have clearance to engage in conflict — Aizawa ordered. —Besides, we aren’t even armed.
—Talk for yourself — Bakugo answered, grabbing his backpack. He opened a secret compartment and pulled out his two Glock 19s.
—Damn it, Bakugou! You are really making me do this? — Aizawa’s voice was sharp with barely concealed anger, but Bakugo was already running across a rusted metallic bridge packed with tourists. He clutched a gun in each hand.
—The Dragon is moving — Hatsume’s annoying voice crackled in the background. She was surely watching him with one of her drones. —Unit B, containing Agent Bakugo. Do it!
Bakugo kept running. He was now at the end of the stairs on one side of the bridge. The metal vibrated under his steps, echoing with the noise made by the unaware tourists, who were taking pictures of the Eiffel Tower. An old couple flinched as he passed by at full speed, nearly knocking over a small postcard stand. A kid with wide eyes stared at him and his guns before his mother yanked him away, muttering something about “terrorists.” Bakugo didn’t even blink. The world could fall apart around him, but he had a mission—and a green vial—to recover.
He met Denki and Jiro face-to-face. They were waiting at the exit of the bridge, sweat glistening on his forehead, but his red eyes glowed with determination.
—Do not get in my way —
Both agents grabbed him, each by an arm. Bakugo didn’t waste time. With a quick twist, he broke free from Denki’s grip and struck him with a powerful kick to the stomach. The impact sent Denki crashing to the ground, where he lay coughing.
Before Jiro could react, Bakugou grabbed her by the wrists, using his own momentum to throw her over a fruit cart. The watermelons exploded in every direction, splattering juice and pulp everywhere. Jiro landed on her back with a soft moan of pain.
Bakugo didn’t stop. The echo of screams and chaos behind him only fueled his urgency. He ran faster.
—Bakugo! What the hell are you doing? — Aizawa stopped him, his voice as sharp as a knife. — Do you know how many reports I will have to fill because of you?
—I’m going for the weapon. Are you with me or not? — He began to run again, not caring if his boss followed.
—Fine.
They were following Shigaraki through a subterranean alley when a drone blocked his path.
—This was just a reconnaissance mission, sparkles. Back off — the drone spoke with Mei’s voice.
—Are you serious? — Before she could answer, Bakugo raised his gun and shot the lens.
—Nooo! That was my best drone! You will pay for this! — Hatsume’s voice was next to tears.
—Here. Take this. Bakugo shoved his other gun into Aizawa’s free hand, his eyes never leaving Shigaraki. — We have to split up
He heard Aizawa taking the stairs to exit the alley while Bakugo kept following Zen through the alley until he saw two workers loading some cargo using a pulley. He mercilessly pushed them aside.
—Sorry, folks — he jumped, grabbing the mechanism in order to pull himself up.
Upstairs, a Shigaraki’s bodyguard was waiting for him with a small compact rifle. Bakugo didn’t even blink. He used the “I’m with the groom” band—the one Deku had given him for the party—and with a swift movement, he wrapped it around the gun’s barrel. With a pull, he got the gun out of his hand, and while the guy tried to react, before he could even scream, Bakugo hit him with the handle of his gun on his nape. The bodyguard folded like a sack of potatoes. Bakugou gave him a hit on his forehead with his knee, leaving the guy unconscious on the concrete floor.
—Dragon, come here!
The alley opened to a bigger space. Blinking bulbs provided some light. Aizawa was hanging from an improvised balcony, being held solely by Shigaraki’s hand. The rest of his body was dangling in the air, his fingers clawing at the air, trying to find support. Bakugo didn’t think twice: he raised his gun and pointed it at Shigaraki’s chest. He kept his finger on the trigger and his breathing under control. He could feel sweat on his nape, but his eyes weren’t shaking.
—Are you going to shoot me? Really? — Shigaraki looked at him with a mocking smile.
Bakugo didn’t answer.
—What we have to do is discuss my ticket out of Europe.
Shigaraki was holding Aizawa by his wrist, handling him like an uncomfortable prize. Aizawa’s arm hung limply while Shigaraki talked with a smile that never reached his eyes. Bakugo kept the gun firm, but his eyes caught for a second a drum full of fresh tomatoes that was moving. It would soon be right under Aizawa, moving slowly on the alley, rocking over its rusted wheels.
—Sure! Let’s talk. —
—My terms: — Shigaraki kept talking. Bakugou had his eyes glued on the truck. — One: I’ll keep the bag and everything inside. — Bakugo yawned, like this was all just a waste of time. — Two…
He didn’t wait for him to finish. He shot him.
The bullet passed right next to Shigaraki’s ear. He fell to his knees by instinct. Aizawa, now free, felt like death was waiting. There was no time for screams. He leapt onto the truck full of tomatoes that was still moving slowly. The red fruit splattered everywhere—on the floor, on the walls. Aizawa was now basically buried under a mountain of crushed tomatoes.
Bakugo was ready to resume the chase but took a second to look back.
—Damn it, Bakugo — Aizawa’s angry screams were carried away by the fruit truck. — When we finish this, you will be going to the black room to answer for your actions.
—I got it!
—You have a severe punishment waiting for you!
—I know! I’m the best.
—Stop this truck!
—Don’t worry, you don’t have to thank me.
When he went up to the place Shigaraki had been, there was no trace of him. But the bio-weapon was there. That was enough for Bakugo—for tonight, at least. Until he found himself sitting in the Black Room, surrounded by the rest of the team. Then he wished he was still chasing Shigaraki.
—Bakugo! — Kirishima was the first to speak, with a mixture of relief and exasperation.
—Okay! Fine! I’m sorry. I punched you in the stomach — he said, poking Denki’s belly. — I’m sorry I made a mess of you with the watermelons — He continued apologizing to Jiro. — I’m sorry I shot your drone, Hatsume — the pink-haired nerd was still holding the remains of her creation. —But we got the bio-weapon!
—The bio-weapon, Bakugo? — Aizawa exploded. — You almost killed three of us. You managed to drop me from various floors and turned me into a tomato sauce. I don’t know what to do with you, so for now, you are suspended. No more missions for you.
—We’ll call this a vacation! — Kirishima said, trying to look on the bright side of things.
Bakugo looked at him with disgust.
—I haven’t taken any vacation in five years!
—I don’t care about your problems. The only thing I want is for you to get out of my sight. . — Aizawa turned around. —NOW!
—Fine, I’m leaving. I have a bachelor party to get back to, either way.
—I’ll call you later — Kirishima said to him, even though Bakugo was already out.