Chapter Text
The air is thick with dust as debris flies, the ground a mess of cracks and broken pavement. Bakugou lets go a growl as his eyes narrow, searching through the dense atmosphere for the culprit. Around him come the shouts of those caught by the explosion, scattered fires lighting the dark street enough now that the electricity is out. His hands clench as he thinks of the asshole’s quirk making so much destruction. This guy was obviously an idiot who couldn’t control his own detonators. What the hell was wrong with him?
There is a shout to the left, and Bakugou takes off. He runs at full speed and jumps over a pile of charred cement. He has to ignore the victims for now, trusting that the rescue team is handling it fine. If he doesn’t catch up with this explosion freak, there will be even more injured, and that is not going to happen. Not on his shift.
On his jump he lets go a blast from both hands, propelling him into the air. There— he sees the little shit running along a rooftop, but Bakugou smiles. No way he is getting away. If this guy is this bad at setting off explosions, there is no way he has the precision to use it for escape.
The realization makes him frown as he lands on the ledge of the roof. He watches as the suspect runs, mini-explosions going off in his wake to keep heroes from chasing him down. The guy’s movements are way off, way too inaccurate. He looks like it’s his first damn day with the quirk.
Yanking a walkie-talkie from his belt, he presses the button to speak. “Listen up, shits,” he says into the speaker, his eyes trained on the suspect who is nearing the other side of the roof. Several of the other heroes on his squad have also arrived, and he sees each one pull out their own receivers. “This asshole doesn’t know shit about explosions. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.”
“He seems to know enough, Zero!” one of the others yells back.
The stupid nickname makes his temper flare, but they don’t have time for this. “Yeah no shit, dumbass!” he shouts. “Now shut the fuck up and listen! I think this quirk is new to him. He could be one of All for One’s pricks. He’s probably burnt, and in pain, so use that. He’s running out of steam for sure, the bombs are less intense. ”
There is a brief pause, and then the squad captain comes over the speaker. “You sure about this?”
“Fuck yes,” he answers.
“You heard him,” the captain says. “Take him down now, and make sure he doesn’t get another building.”
That is all Bakugou needs to hear. He dashes forward in a blur, along with the others who close in as a semicircle. The creep rushes forward, pressing his hands on the rooftop, calling out an attack. Bakugou is the first to reach him, yanking him back by his shirt and punching him in the face, just as the roof beneath his feet gives way.
He shouts, holding tightly to the asshole. With only one hand free he shoots a blast with the other to slow their fall, but he lands hard on the floor below, pieces of the roof caving in around them. Despite the punch (and it was a good one, Bakugou knew it had to be, because his fist actually hurt) the guy is fighting him, trying to tear away from his grip.
“Oh no you don’t!” he shouts, launching himself on top of him. His legs and back are screaming from the impact, but Bakugou ignores the pain. He throws his weight down to pin him with his knees on the suspect’s thighs, throwing two more quick punches that connect with his face. “Stay down!”
For a moment he stills, and Bakugou looks up, panting. Four of the other heroes are climbing to their feet, one unmoving. He grits his teeth and looks down, ready to take some payback out on the guy for taking out his squad. But he settles instead for pinning his wrists as his walkie-talkie goes off. “We need rescue on the top floor! Hero down, code six.”
“I’m here!” The familiar voice sends a jolt through him, and Bakugou’s eyes snap up. Another hero is navigating the rubble to get to them, and he blinks when she easily lifts a huge piece of the roof and tosses it aside. Her costume is sort of familiar, a green and pink that looks skin tight and accentuates everything underneath. Shaking his head, he listens as she reaches the others who are surrounding the teammate on the ground. He knows her, he knows he does, but how?
“I’ll get him out of here,” she says, and then she looks up. “Is that the guy?”
Their eyes lock, and his go wide in recognition when he takes in her brown hair and the pink hue on her cheeks just as one of the others says, “Yeah, that’s him, Uravity!”
Uravity. Or rather, Uraraka Ochako, one of his classmates back from UA. Heat rolls over his neck as he sees she recognizes him as well. They hadn’t seen each other in… six years? Seven? Since graduation anyway. Kirishima kept up with everyone online, even going to meet-ups once in a while with some of the others, but Bakugou couldn’t be bothered. Other than Kiri, and occasionally Kaminari, he couldn’t care less about how the rest of 1-A was doing.
Uraraka blinks and looks back at the guy that is hurt. “Tie his leg so it’s not hurt in the move. I’ll check on the suspect as well.”
Great. She hurries over to where he is still pinning the prick to the ground. “Bakugou!” she exclaims as she crouches next to him. “I can’t believe it’s you!”
“Can it, Round Face,” he growls, snorting a bit as he remembers the old nickname. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Uraraka ignores the insult, to his annoyance. “I’m on rescue. I just got transferred to this section of the city. Is this the guy?”
She peers down at the suspect, who tries to jerk in Bakugou’s grip. “No, I like just pinning guys to the floor for shits. Of course this is the guy!”
“Very funny,” she replies with a bit of a withering look. “Do you want me to get him airborne? That way you don’t have to hold him—”
“I got it, I don’t need your help.”
“I know you got it, but I could still do—”
Bakugou grit his teeth. She is just as annoying as she always was, back when they were students and she’d rag on him about Deku or his attitude or whatever else she had the nerve to comment on. “I said I don’t need your help!” he shouts, leaning right into her face. “I’m a pro hero, not some—”
A split second later Bakugou realizes his mistake. In his fury he had released his grip just enough for the piece of shit to break his hold. A second later he shoves him off, spinning to his stomach and scrambling over the chunks of rooftop beneath them. With a shout Bakugou lunges, but so does Uraraka.
“What the hell are you doing?!” yells Bakugou.
Or he would have yelled, if another explosion didn’t send them both airborne.
It takes a second for him to get his bearings with the vertigo, but once he figures out which way is up he twists his body to look for the suspect on the way down. Oh this asshole is going to get it, once he gets his hands on him.
Two hands grip his arm, and suddenly he stops falling. Bakugou lurches and spies Uraraka on his arm. “He’s right below us!” she calls, and he realizes his ears are ringing. He follows her gaze to see the hole in the floor beneath them, and the suspect climbing to his feet.
“Let me go!” Bakugou jerks in Uraraka’s grip as she yells, “Hey!” He puts his other hand straight up up, sending a blast from his palm to propel him downwards. The suspect is up, and once he spots them sailing through the floor he goes to run. But Bakugou is quicker, snatching him by the hair and throwing him to the ground face first.
The suspect falls, but he does not. Bakugou’s feet are still inches above the ground, and over the shouts of the others in the floor above he yells, “Get this off of me, Uraraka!”
“Release!” They drop the half foot to the floor, and once he is on firm ground he grabs Uravity by the arm. “Don’t use your quirk on me again!” he hisses.
“You were about to sail off into who knows where!” she hollers back. Bakugou has almost an entire head on her, and if he wasn’t so pissed he would be snickering at how she has to stand on her toes to get in his face. “You can thank me later!”
“Like that will—”
Bakugou groans as the suspect once more sits up, blood now rolling down his face. The guy’s clothes are toast, his skin red and his hair charred. With a bit of satisfaction Bakugou realizes he was right—this guy has no idea how to handle flame. “Will you stay down?!” he yells. “The place is surrounded. You and your shitty explosions aren’t getting out of here.”
His face snaps up to them, and he lifts his hand. “Switch,” he calls.
The next thought Bakugou has is that Uraraka has them floating again, because the world goes sideways, then spins—and then everything is black.
Uraraka opens her eyes to a blank white ceiling. “I’m hungry,” she says.
“Ochako!” She winces at the high pitched voice and turns her head to see Momo sitting next to her. Then she realizes she is in a hospital bed and frowns. “You’re awake!”
“Where am I? What happened?” Uraraka sits up and immediately lays back down, holding her head. “Wow the room is spinning.”
“Be still,” Momo laughs. She looms over into sight with a smile. “Let me yell for a nurse or something. Hang on.”
“But—”
She is gone before Uraraka can even finish her question. Sighing, she looks back up at the ceiling, which is only slightly swaying now, and thinks. She was working—the explosions, of course. The team responsible for securing and arresting the suspect had gone into a building Uraraka was clearing, and when the roof caved in (blasted in, whatever) she had gone to help. And Bakugou was there! She smiles when she remembers, until she also remembers he called her Round Face. Stupid Bakugou.
Then… he let go another bomb, and Bakugou was mad (of course) that she saved his ass. The next is kind of fuzzy, and she presses her lips together and looks down.
That’s… weird. Her hands are wrapped in a thick covering of gauze. Uraraka flexes her fingers tentatively, but there is no pain. Had she been burned? She doesn’t remember getting hurt, but something had to have put her in this hospital room. Then she frowns, her brows drawing together. If she is hurt, Bakugou was probably hurt too.
The door opens and Momo returns with a doctor, a nurse and a detective. The nurse goes to work checking her IV and her pulse while Momo takes her seat again. “Good morning, Miss Uravity,” the doctor says as she picks up the chart hanging on the bed.
“Ochako is fine,” she says. “Am I okay?”
“You’re uninjured,” the detective assures her. “Despite the second blast you only had some cuts and bruises.”
Uraraka turns to Momo. “Is Bakugou okay?”
“He’s here too, for observation. But I think he’s fine,” her friend assures her.
Nodding, she lets go a breath. That makes her feel better, except… “Why are my hands like this?” she asks, raising them both to display.
The others exchange a glance before the detective clears his throat. “The suspect that was apprehended is currently in a coma. There is no telling when he will get out of it, although we are doing a full investigation and have already uncovered plenty about him.”
Uraraka blinks. “And? What’s that have to do with my hands?”
“You sustained no permanent injuries, Miss Uravity,” the doctor says flatly. “However, there is an issue with your quirk.”
“My quirk?!” Panic flares in her chest as she looks back down at the bandages. “What is it?”
“You see—” The doctor cuts off as she frantically begins pulling at the cloth, yanking off the top set of bandages.
“Ochako! Wait!” Momo cries, reaching out to grab her arm as the doctor balks. “Miss Uravity! Please let me explain first!”
But Uraraka is in too much of a frenzy to even hear them. Quickly she unwraps the rest in a matter of seconds, the white strips now in a heap on her lap. She stares down at her hands, which are trembling, but at first glance there is nothing wrong. No scrapes, no cuts, no bruising even.
She smooths her fingertips over the back of one hand, and then freezes. Slowly she turns them palms up, staring in shock as she raises them towards her face.
The pads of her fingers are smooth.
“What is this?” she cries. Hot tears fill her throat and hold behind her eyes. “Am I—am I quirkless?”
No one answers, and Uraraka glances up, looking between the doctor and the detective. “No, Miss Uravity,” she finally answers. “You’re not quirkless.”
“Then what happened to—”
There is a loud bang, and she lets out a scream as hot air blows against her face. The room fills with smoke and she coughs, waving her hand rapidly to blow the thick gray away from her face. She feels Momo grip her shoulder as the girl helps her fan the smoke. “Ochako, are you okay?”
“Yes," she gasps, her heart pounding from the fright. "But what…”
She gapes as she glances down. In her lap, the bandages are now a smoldering pile, the white now singed along the edges and in large lumps of ash. Uraraka watches as a few sparks go out, leaving the remains of the little explosion to smoke as she can only stare at her hands.