Archive of Our Own

Let it be known that Bakugou Katsuki is the greatest pirate to have ever sailed the sea. Second to nobody - because not a single soul comes close to his glory. 

Not even the man about to steal his treasure. 

Especially not him. Never him.

“Back off bastard - the gold is mine!”

Todoroki doesn’t move an inch, pocketing a few of the sapphires as he speaks in that unaffected monotone. Beneath it, Bakugou catches the wisps of insufferable amusement. 

“If you ask nicely, there’s plenty to share between us.” 

Honestly, the audacity of this man is too much. Bakugou unsheathes his cutlass, snarling.

Like hell will he let this slide. 

“I ain’t sharing squat with you.”

The cutlass swings through the air, due to land a clean strike. Swift and sharp. Ordinarily, the hit won’t miss. 

But there is nothing ordinary about Todoroki Shouto. 

The man Bakugou is dealing with is exasperating. Enigmatic. Elusive.

All whilst getting away with the damn treasure. 

Effortlessly, Todoroki parries the oncoming onslaught. He hardly moves from his position against the chest. The resounding clang of metal fills what remains of The Overhaul. But it's hardly the exhilirating fight any decent pirate deserves. 

“Fight me for real or not at all!” Bakugou barks out, furious. 

Composure frays around him. Beyond the rage is a disappointment that ravages his insides. A hollowness that is never filled, because it’s never voiced. 

Look at me, pay attention to me, give me your all- 

Todoroki doesn’t meet his demands. He doesn’t even meet him halfway. It’s selfish. Bakugou isn’t sure whether it’s even spiteful anymore, but he shovels that into the catastrophic concotion burning in his throat. 

“You can’t always have your way, Bakugou.” 

Well. That’s just rich. Worth more than all the damn gold scattered around them. 

“Tch,” Bakugou clicks his tongue in sync with their clash. “Don’t be a brat.” 

“Sage advice, coming from you.”

“Shut your trap.”

“No please?” Todoroki pours more jewels into his pockets. “Now who’s the brat?”

This man is in no place to preach. Truth be told, it’s unfathomable that some people find Todoroki Shouto polite. 

“Heh- nice try. I ain’t ever heard you say please.” 

“I could in the right situation.” 

Bakugou grits his teeth, refusing to budge.

“Cast off you snapperhead scurvydog!” 

Eyebrow quirked, Todoroki hums absently. 

“Is that a compliment or a slight?” 

Both, Bakugou doesn’t say. 

Hell. 

He’s in deep enough with this nonsense as it is. Pretty fucking in love with it, actually. 

Of course, battles with Todoroki Shouto are never only by the sword. It’s by the wildest wits. Coy underhanded remarks and unrefined pettiness take centre stage. 

Another day, another treasure. Another map to follow, another adventure. As the world spins on, their parrying merely marks the rhythm. 

“I’ll leave you the rubies, Bakugou,” Todoroki announces. “They match your eyes.”

Bakugou resents the heat flooding to his ears. There’s no need for it. And yet. 

If this is the game they’re playing, Bakugou will gladly step it up. 

“Spare the gold, take the silver. It suits you better.” 

Swords dance in a whirlwind of rapid motion. Bakugou carves out his victory - three more moves and it’s done. 

Todoroki is powerful. But his potent lack of interest is going to be his downfall. 

“Maybe. But silver is worth less.” 

Boom. There it is. The opening. 

“Exactly!”

That’s when it happens. Hailed success. With a flick of the wrist, Todoroki’s blade is struck at just the right angle to unhinge his defence completely.

Total annihilation. 

Bakugou lunges. His blade pierces the chest -the one filled with coins and treasure galore, mind you. He revels at the surprise in those wide mismatched eyes. 

It’s a fleeting reaction but it’s something.

Finally. 

Glancing between his shoulder and Bakugou’s cutlass poking out from the treasure chest, Todoroki purses his lips. 

Pouting shouldn’t look that pretty on him, but by god it does and it’s far too distracting. Especially with the pale moonlight slithering down through the cracks in Chisaki's shipwreck. 

“A little close, don’t you think?” 

Instead of dignifying that with an answer, Bakugou pins Todoroki with his fists. 

It could be closer. 

Much, much closer. 

Any other pirate might just have made that lethal blow the moment they could. Leave the floor painted red and the sky tainted with bloodlust. 

Todoroki slumps against the chest, as if having the same harrowing realisation. 

“What,” Bakugou grins, inching forwards. “Afraid I’d do it?” 

Their eyes meet, and the heavy sincerity swathed over Todoroki’s face is a jarring shift from the playful ruse. It’s everything Bakugou strives to ignore when they cross paths. 

But here it is anyway, unfurling slowly. 

Stronger and more prevalent than ever. The anchor tethered to their foolish souls will lead them nowhere but the bottom of the damn sea. 

They’re already sinking. 

“Afraid you wouldn’t, actually. Even if it your life depended on it.” 

The tip of a blade prodding Bakugou’s stomach has him looking down. Any more pressure and it would surely burst skin. 

Todoroki knows that. They both do. 

Breath hitching, Bakugou steels himself. Alright. He walked into his own trap. He dropped his guard and it backfired spectacularly. 

Congratulations to him for this failure. Now it’s crucial he removes himself from this situation. 

Swiftly. 

The glaring problem is that his blasted body refuses to move - for bloody shame. All of him is caught in the gravity of this stupid man who dared bewitch him. 

“You’re bluffing.” 

“Dead men tell no tales,” Todoroki counters, tossing his blade to the floor despite the threat. 

A raspy laugh escapes Bakugou without permission, spluttering around the edges as his breath fans out in a way that’s all kinds of mortifying. 

Whatever. 

Todoroki said it himself: there are no survivors here. They’re taking this strange moment to the grave. 

Might as well cash in on it. 

Head leaning back against the chest, Todoroki blinks slow. Not unlike a cat content to lounge in the sun. Given the situation, it’s out of place and equally unexpected. 

Strands of red and white fall messily over his forehead, the ponytail loose and dishevelled. 

Bakugou pointedly keeps his eyes away from the pale thin line of Todoroki’s exposed throat. 

He only plans on making one trip to hell for all his troubles. Can’t be thrown into the fiery pit again for something as absurd as a blasted neck. 

“Hm,” Todoroki murmurs. “I haven’t heard you laugh before...” 

Hackles raised, Bakugou scoffs. Why this fool keeps dragging them into these murky waters that blur all the lines is beyond him. 

Why Bakugou follows, is crystal clear. Always has been. 

Darn it all. 

“Tch. Sure you have.” 

“Your demented yolwing is different. This was almost pleasant.” 

Yanking his cutlass from the chest, Bakugou musters his most ferocious glare. 

“Oh fuck off.” 

Todoroki doesn’t miss a beat, lips curving upwards. 

“No. You’d probably get bored.” 

Maybe it’s true but nobody needs to know that. Least of all the man responsible for holding Bakugou’s floundering heart hostage. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” 

It’s ridiculous, how Todoroki’s eyes are suddenly gleaming. Bakugou needs no reminders of the fact he’s dealing with the most enchanting threat he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Earlier, you said silver suited me.” 

Bakugou scoops up a handful of gemstones piled around him. Emeralds, sapphires - a myriad of striking colours. 

None outshine the pirate beside him. It’s a terrible revelation. 

“Nah,” he manages, barely. “You misheard.” 

Todoroki bites down on a rare blooming smile. His gaze softens, watching Bakugou sieve through the jewels. The warmth emanating from the whole thing is ghastly. 

Truly. 

This level of fondness has no business being so blatant out in the open. 

Be gone, sacrilegious sentiment! 

Having a spectator to his frantic attempts at calming his rocketing pulse is bad enough. Those mismatched eyes are hardly helping in the slightest. 

Christ. 

What the blazes are they doing, sitting here amongst a horde of treasure and ignoring it entirely. 

Sickening - that’s what it is. 

“Here our ways divide. We best be parting before night swallows the horizon,” Todoroki muses, sounding more like the pirate he claims to be than usual. 

There’s a lull in his voice, slanting the syllables lazily. 

Interesting. 

So the bastard loses the stick up his butt when dozy.

The Overhaul shipwreck houses enough treasure to last a thousand lifetimes. Bakugou shovels a few more pieces into his breeches. For security. 

He’ll be back to claim the rest - before Todoroki. 

As if hearing the challenge, Todoroki plucks a lone sapphire from the chest. There’s a sway to his step as he heads towards the shoreline. He’s enjoying this far too much. 

“We could split it, just this once.” 

The flagrant taunt is utterly blasphemous. Bakugou marches after him, eyes glaring daggers into the back of that stupid pretty head. 

He can only handle so much of this. 

“Keep that cursed balderdash to yourself.” 

The retort goes ignored. Todoroki is already moving on. 

“Then suppose we race for it,” he suggests. 

Just because Todoroki is a natural in open water does not mean he’s going to win. Bakugou has never been outrun. A manic grin sweeps up and pinches his cheeks. 

“Prepare to lose.” 

“Whatever you say, Bakugou.” 

It’s a half-hearted response, but it doesn’t matter. 

As they exit The Overhaul wreckage, Bakugou discovers there are bigger issues at hand.

Like the blasted gaping hole in the side of his ship. With damage that bad, he’s bound to sink the moment he sets sail. 

Grey clouds roll over the horizon, undoubtedly the cause. Turbulent waters paired with debris washed ashore is a brutal broth. 

Damn it. 

Beside him, Todoroki frowns. Mismatched eyes are fixed on his own horrific problem. Bakugou steals a look at the wrecked bow, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

“Who the hell crafted that? That’s the worst woodwork I’ve ever seen.” 

“My brother,” Todoroki looks equally as resigned about the whole thing. “I’ll be sure to tell him that the next time he tries to murder me for comandeering his boat.” 

It sounds like a joke, but Bakugou gets the distinct impression it’s the truth. More, there’s a whole hold of heaviness sat beneath the words. 

An untold story. 

Todoroki gives a small shrug, the closest to helpless he’s ever looked. Bakugou has no idea what to do with that brazen vulnerability. 

He focuses on what he can do, what he knows.  

“I’ve got tools,” he finds himself offering like the impertinent fool he is reduced to around Todoroki. 

With a weak nod, Todoroki appraises the grove on the island. The trees might just be their saviour in this situation. 

“I’ll get wood.” 

Reaching out, Bakugou clasps his wrist. The poor bastard can hardly keep on his feet. Hacking down trees will only bring disaster. 

“Sleep first. We begin at first light.” 

Lips twitching, Todoroki gestures to the barren beach. 

“I meant logs for a fire, though I appreciate the concern.” 

Bakugou averts his gaze, jaw clenched tight. It sets in, then. The fact that they are stuck here. Together. For however long it takes to fix the damage. 

Blast be to the almighty forces that orchestrated this. 

Todoroki tugs out of his hold, and the absence of touch stings.

Already, this is beyond unbearable. His chest is heaving, palms clammy.   

Ridiculous. 

At least the fire is yet to be made. There’s little chance Todoroki can catch wind of the prickly embarrassment in moonlight alone.

The pair move in seamless tandem to fetch the necessary supplies. Within the hour, a camp is made. In any other situation, that would be good. 

But this is bad. Very, very bad. Because it’s already far too comfortable out here with Todoroki - as natural as breathing. 

Bakugou reins in his composure. 

Little does he know yet, these days will change the course of his future forever. 

They call it the Cave of Wonders. 

Legend has it, the rogue pirate Stain left his chest of most valuable jewels and gemstones deep in its serrated jaws. Not just rubies and emeralds - gold, silver. Coins. 

Tucked into a perilous corner of the sea, known only to those able to crack the cypher Stain left in his wake. Then there’s the whole problem of piecing together an accurate map. 

For Bakugou - of course - it’s no trouble at all. He’s on track to blitzing this entire thing. 

Todoroki may have gotten a head start on repairs at The Overhaul shipwreck, but he should not forget who he’s dealing with. 

The king of the sea, the master of the water. 

Bakugou Katsuki has no intention of losing this mighty loot to Todoroki. Not this time. 

Ahead, treasure gleams galore. But something is amiss. There is no unexpected greeting, not a single surprise. 

Instead, Bakugou is met by a foreboding quiet. He scans the cave for more signs. There’s nothing. Not a shadow in the corners, or the sound of footsteps. 

The only person here to take the prize is him. 

Strange. He’s never faced this part alone. 

It’s unsettling and not remotely okay. That’s not how it goes and he’s not about to start slipping now. 

“Alright you bastard, knock if off!” Bakugou calls out, voice echoing through the cavern. “That shit ain’t funny. I’m here now so come out and face me.”   

Once more - nothing. 

Stood by the chest, Bakugou stares down at the loot in bewilderment. By this point, he expects an ambush - or something. But still, he’s met with no resistance or swashbuckling stupidity. 

Just him and his treasure. The way he always dreamed it would be. Now, it’s descended into a bloody nightmare. 

This isn’t right. This is the part where they bicker between blades. 

Todoroki should be here. He’s meant to be here. 

By Bakugou’s feet, a familiar glimmer of silver catches his eye. Crouching down, he picks up the pendant. 

In terms of value for trade, it’s worthless. But right now it’s everything - the only clue he has. 

He curls the chain around his fingers, tracing over the opal stone. 

It’s all the proof he needs Todoroki has been here. 

But he didn’t take the treasure. He didn’t stay. 

He didn’t even say goodbye. 

Fist clenched around the pendant, Bakugou marches out the cave. 

Mark his words, he’ll be back to get his share of Stain’s treasure. Later. Right now, he isn’t settling for a half-assed victory. He won’t win this way. He refuses to. 

“Buckle up bastard. I’m coming for you.” 

And so begins a quest. Not for treasure forged in gold and silver - for a man who holds the sacred key to balance in Bakugou’s world. 

For a love more timeless than the tide. 

The pirate port is every bit as tacky as Bakugou remembers. One step off his ship laces his boots in grime that is going to take weeks of scrubbing to remove. 

But nothing is going to be harder to shake off than the crowd of nosy bilge rats ahead looking for dishonest work and even more dishonest company. 

Great. Best get this part over with. 

Hand resting on the hilt of his blade, Bakugou marches into the gates of hell incarnate. This is the last place he wants to be and by god Todoroki better thank him for all this shit later. 

Wherever that bastard is, he has a lot to answer for. 

That’s for sure. 

At least the majority of these hornswoggling losers move out of his path. The ones that don’t garner no special treatment. 

Patience wears thin, and tolerance is running low. Bakugou has a goddamn job to do unlike these swines giving pirates a bad name across the globe. 

“Out the way, damn sluggards!” 

Amidst the ruckus on the port, a few regrettably familiar voices stick out. In the sea of unpleasant carnage that will haunt Bakugou’s ear for life, he'll take whatever salvation he can get around these parts.

“Heave to!” Sero - it has to be given the obnoxious whistle - calls out. “Is that our guy?” 

Through the crowd, Bakugou catches a glimpse of pink hair. 

“Who else calls people sluggards?” 

A blonde with too much enthusiasm to be legal leaps onto the deck of a docked ship, immediately catching the attention of just about every person looking for trouble around this place. 

Typical. 

The voyage hasn’t even begun - and Bakugou is already looking out for these blasted idiots. 

“Captain Kacchan of the Bakugous,” Kaminari announces all whilst waving frantically. “Ahoy, matey. Over here!” 

Once out of this chaos, they’ll have words about this. All of this. 

God. 

For a moment, Bakugou is tempted to leave Kaminari to suffer a cruel fate for trespassing. He deserves it given the atrocities leaving his mouth. 

But Bakugou needs all the help he can get right now. At the end of the day, he’d rather work with pirates he knows.

Even these clowns.  

Striding towards the deck, Bakugou yanks Kaminari down mere seconds before a scourge of the seas successfully impales him with a mop. 

The cracks in Bakugou's fragile composure must show enough to the loser, who swiftly goes back to doing the worst cleaning job he's ever seen. 

Christ.

“The hell you doing?” Bakugou spits, dragging Kaminari by his collar towards the ridiculous pirates waiting for them. 

“Gees, I leave you alone for one second.” 

“Actually,” Kaminari starts in that insufferably knowing voice. “It’s been seven months and four days.” 

Huh. 

At that, Bakugou casts a look over at the fool. He didn’t expect any of them to be counting - yet alone waiting for his return. A small piece of his heart barricaded away somewhere cold and dark might just be touched. 

Maybe. 

“Whatever,” is all Bakugou offers in response. 

Despite the time that has passed, not much has changed. Kirishima’s hair remains shock red and his smile is no less blinding. Beside him, Mina is beaming with wild excitement. Her hair is shorter but it looks good. 

They’re quite the radiant pair. Bakugou almost gives them a casual wave of his own. 

Almost. 

He doesn’t - that would mean the end of his days. 

Because grinning the most malevolent of grins nearby is Sero. There he stands, poised and ready to strike. 

It’s a grim reminder - the rest of them are not excluded from running a rig. Bakugou recalls that much from when they last had a meal together. 

Bunch of scuttlebutts, the lot of them. 

Compared to the pillagers and lowly thieves eyeing Bakugou’s satchel for anything worthy of plunder, it’s a gamble he will just have to take. At least these fools are honest to a fault, even if they take great pleasure in making his life as miserable as possible. 

“What brings you to these parts, Bucko-gou?” Kirishima says with so much pride it is staggering. 

The atrocious wordplay goes ignored. Bakugou casts their onlookers one final glare. 

“Let’s take this somewhere else,” he mutters.

The only somewhere they can go is right ahead. He knows this. 

The Merry Mermaid.

Bakugou should have known better than to expect a private place to talk. Suddenly, nothing about his meticulous plan seems remotely good at all. 

Again, the bitterness creeps up for this situation. It's easier to handle than the dread hidden beneath it and Bakugou takes it in his stride. Todoroki better be grateful. 

“Aye! We have just the place,” Sero chimes, swinging the inn’s door open. 

Mayhem spills out from inside, soon followed by a smashed bottle. The tables are packed, pirates clambering on the tops to dance and sing boisterously. A nasty rustle has broken out in the back corner, an old salt taking advantage of the distraction to pluck gold coins off the table. 

Ushering them inside, Mina strategically commandeers a table from a band of barely conscious oafs. Perhaps she’s the only one with the skills to successfully deal with miscreants. 

There is hope yet for this crew. 

Huddled away from the main nuisances of the inn’s tavern, Bakugou peels off his coat. Like hell is he sitting on this rotting wood. 

Too late he realises his mistake. 

With no tact whatsoever, Kaminari reaches out to grab the silver pendant now on full display. Fist clenched, Bakugou wills himself not to lose his cool so early in the game. 

It’s not like he can tell them this belongs to a mysterious man he might be a little in love with, the reason he’s embarking on this wild goose chase because treasure hunting is a bore without his antics. 

Yeah. 

No way is that information on the table right now. Part of Bakugou can’t comprehend the absurdity himself. Another part sees straight through the facade, sighs with resignation too heavy for this time of day. 

“This is new,” Kaminari muses. 

“It’s not very shiny.” Mina pouts as she speaks, but her eyes are gleaming with interest. 

Prying Kaminari’s grubby hands off the pendant, Bakugou slips it beneath his shirt out of sight. 

“Found it at my last loot,” he says as offhandedly as possible. 

It’s not a lie - he’s telling the truth. To a degree. 

“Figured I may as well take it.”  

Sero is ominously quiet across the table, eyebrows raised. God damn it. They may be clowns but they’re not completely clueless. 

If there’s no value to the pendant in trade then it means it’s importance is found elsewhere. Bakugou refuses to open that can of worms right now. 

Fortunately, Kirishima comes to his aid. 

“So - weren’t you off on some grand adventure to become the Pirate King?” 

“Tch. I’m already the King,” Bakugou snaps out of habit, rolling his eyes at the cheers that bellow around him. 

Tables nearby join in the cahoots, wanting something new to toast to.

Ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous. 

“What's the full title now?” Mina asks in misplaced curiosity, chin in her hands. 

This is going to bring him grief later, but Bakugou has nothing to hide. He’s a fantastic pirate and his name reflects that. 

“Captain Explosion Murder Pirate King.”  

“Oh, zoonters - what the rattle?!” another bane of Bakugou’s existence exclaims, setting a silver tray of cups down for them. 

“Do my eyes rook me or is that really The Bakugou?” 

Great. Just great. 

Camie perches on the edge of the table, blowing kisses to the group. She reaches out to prod Bakugou’s face, pouting lips pursed as she examines him. 

Hissing like the way snakes do when aggravated, he escapes her hold. He can be the Kraken if he needs to. 

The most bizarre person Bakugou knows hops off the table to take up the space beside him. 

“Chuckaboo, it is you. Well, golly. I might just turn into a gigglemug.”   

The pirates blink slowly in blatant confusion. Bakugou also has no idea what she means, so says nothing.

Raising his cup, Kaminari takes a swig of whatever the inn is serving today. Bakugou is having none of it, thanks. 

Rum or nothing.    

“You know, I almost got the morbs when you were gone for so long. Sure your mateys did too.” 

“Aye,” Sero laments, despite the subtle furrow of his brow indicating he isn’t quite sure what he’s agreeing with. 

“When you’re done, back slang if you need to,” Camie gestures towards a discreet-looking door tucked behind the main bar. “Though be sure to return. It’s been a total dizzy.” 

“I’d rather walk the plank,” Bakugou grunts, scanning the upheaval unfolding around them.

Unfortunately, his open distaste has the opposite effect on the wicked wench. Camie winks. 

“Aw - no need to get so poked up!” 

With that, she weaves through the mayhem, all whilst picking up cups and placating rowdy pirates. Her presence comes with both authority and charm, like a strange glamour that keeps people in her orbit. 

If she told half the people in here to leap off the deck for gold they probably would believe the illusion she sold them. 

Yeah. 

There’s no denying Camie is pretty darn impressive. No other person could keep this damn place afloat for this long. 

“Sometimes I wonder if she really is a mermaid,” Mina swoons, a dreamy quality to her voice. 

Grinning, Bakugou watches her eyes trail after Camie.  

“Heh. Seems like she has you under her siren spell.” 

The sweet mellow expression on Mina’s face sharpens. All amusements withers in an instant. Her eyes flick back to Bakugou, something potent and inquisitive loitering within. 

Pointedly and without reserve, her gaze hones to where the silver pendant is tucked out of sight. The pendant that belongs to Todoroki. 

The reason he’s even here. 

Well. Shit. 

“What’s their name, Bakugou?” 

Hot irritation bubbles in Bakugou’s veins. The pressure bursts. Defensive and destructive all at once. It’s not a cataclysmic eruption, but it’s enough to give Mina what she wants: information. 

The fire burns on his tongue, fanning out without permission. 

“None of your damn business.” 

Blow it all fucking down! 

She always knows the best places to prod with firm persistence until secrets spill and private treasures scatter all around to feast upon. 

Satisfied with her loot, Mina leans forwards on her elbows. She’s practically leering at the words. 

Blast Mina to hell.

“We’ll see,” she threatens because yes it definitely is a threat despite the friendly disposition returning. 

The wheel of fortune must be turning in Bakugou’s favour on a larger scale at least. Around the table, the others seem too preoccupied in tossing bronze coins in an idle game to have caught even a whisper of the conversation. 

If Bakugou has to spend a second longer in this hellhole than needs be, he will lose the final dregs of his own composure. 

Alright. 

Time to speak the tidings and get back on the sea. 

Fist planted on the table, Bakugou catches their attention. Sero pockets the bronze coins when Kaminari isn’t looking, all whilst keeping his eyes trained on Bakugou. 

“Here’s the deal. I need me a crew.”  

Interest piqued, the atmosphere of the table sets alight. Kaminari’s eyes practically sparkle. Hardly surprising - they’re all rogues in their own right. 

This is the first time all of them will set sail together. Maybe that’s cursed. Maybe they’re all damned. 

“I’d wager it’s a big booty if you’re asking for our help.” 

“I ain’t asking you squat.” 

Pause. 

Bakugou scowls at the blooming elated expressions. They’re jumping to all sorts of confounded conclusions. Promises of the future, of more than can be delivered. 

His mind drifts to that night beneath the stars, mismatched eyes hardening as the distance grew palpable. 

“This is a one-time gig. I need hands.” 

And so the interrogation begins. 

“Where we going, boss?” 

“That’s for me to know.” 

“I assume we will be fairly compensated?” Sero asks just to be an annoying conniving scoundrel. 

“The basics. Lodgings. Food.” 

Mina purses her lips tight. “And?” 

There it is. 

Smirking, Bakugou leans back in his seat. Usually he’d shovel the no prey no pay card in their direction. But the stakes are higher and the losses are greater. 

Getting the crew onboard is just the first step. 

No matter how good of character they are, pirates by nature are creatures of greed. Be it freedom, coin, possessions or something else far too tangible to dare name - there’s a want rattling in their bones.  

Bakugou knows it. Damn he feels it beating and burning in his chest as the silver pendant knocks against his skin. 

What he wants is off-limits, what he’s chasing may be the thing that destroys him for good. A splintered heart and spine of timber is the thing that keeps him grounded. 

The pyre is already built. 

Dragging them down to this unknowing hell with empty pockets is something only a rotten captain would do. 

By his name, Bakugou is above that. 

“Two bags of gold.” 

“Three,” Mina protests. 

“Two and a half.” 

“Three.”

“Two and a quarter.” 

“Bakugou - you sly dog! I’m not-”

“Two,” Kaminari chants, not having paid much mind to the numbers being thrown across the table.

Well. 

That makes the bartering easier. 

“Two,” Bakugou confirms, smirk growing wider. 

Slumping in her seat, Mina sticks her tongue out in the manner of a petulant bitter child. With the deal done, Bakugou looks around at the crew he’s assembled. 

Between them, they’ve got the skills needed to make this trip. 

Navigation, sailing, gunners and even a swab. Granted Kaminari is decent on the ropes, but the ship will be nothing besides spick and span at all times. 

Bakugou isn’t running amok. Only the best for his majestic ship. 

“Now for the code of conduct.” 

The smirk on his face must have split into one of his infamous rapscallion grins, as Kaminari jolts up from the table aghast. Sero’s demeanour deflates, as if somehow sensing exactly what Bakugou has planned for each of them. 

Kirishima gives a weak smile, braver than the rest facing their fate. 

“Kacchan,” Kaminari wails towards the ceiling. “You’re too cruel!” 

Considering everything they need is at their fingertips, the repairs to the ships should take no more than four days if all goes to plan. 

Out of sheer force of will, Bakugou vows to see it done in two.

Not for the sake of competition, or to stoke the flames of their rocky rivalry. 

No. 

For some absurd reason, the incentive is steeped in matters of the bleeding heart. Even if it leads to a sleepless night, it’s undoubtedly for the best. 

Bakugou will take a throbbing headache and sore hands over a hopeful heart on the precipice of breaking. 

This way, the temptation of lingering and stewing in the comfortable silence with Todoroki is obliterated. 

Bakugou might not survive here much longer otherwise. 

Because here, the ghostly wreckage of an almighty ship is not the only things that haunts them. The quiet creeps closer like a dear trusted friend. A welcoming presence as opposed to a foreboding reminder of the loneliness that plagues most at sea. 

It’s also a respite from the incessant nonsense that continues to fall out of Todoroki’s mouth. For some reason, the fool feels compelled to speak into existence the worst things Bakugou has heard in his life. 

Like now.

Bakugou strikes the nail into the wood. With luck, the hammer will drown Todoroki out. 

Moments later, nothing changes. And thus, Bakugou accepts his grim grisly fate: he has no escape. 

He is powerless against this. 

Nothing will lessen the stream of stupidity floating his way. He just has to buckle up and deal with it. 

“Maybe the earth is flat, there’s no real way of knowing.” 

Or not. 

Because that’s where the line is fucking drawn. The line that is horizontal and flat, unlike the earth. 

The earth is spherical.

To hell with the fierce affection in his chest for this ethereal man. There is no coming back from something of this calibre. 

Ever. 

“I mean, think about it.” 

Bakugou does not want to think about it. He wants to toss that theory into the fire and watch it burn. Any pirate with a head for sailing could blast it to smithereens. 

Todoroki continues, unfazed. 

“Somewhere on the horizon, you’ll hit the edge of the sea.” 

Now Bakugou is fairly certain Todoroki is pulling the trigger to a cursed musket. On purpose. With zero remorse. He knows exactly how to coax Bakugou into bickering battles. 

Still, there’s an awful part of Bakugou unsure about how deep this farce goes. 

Todoroki is a menace. 

He messes with Bakugou for kicks, granted. Yet the unyielding sincerity in his demeanour is far too convincing - even when it’s a sham.

Bakugou smacks the hammer against the wood harder. Somehow, it’s taken as encouragement to keep speaking. 

“What do you think happens when you reach world’s end?” 

Clicking his tongue petulantly, Bakugou glares over his shoulder at the idiot sent from Satan to bring only pain and frustration. 

“If you don’t shut up, you’ll reach your end right here!”  

Todoroki keeps his eyes on his own ship, nauseating neutrality giving nothing away. There’s not even a reaction to the empty threat. With a sharp huff, Bakugou pointedly turns his attention away. 

He doesn’t deserve this. 

Less than three seconds pass before more infernal chaos spews out of Todoroki’s mouth. 

“I was just speculating how much we really know…” 

Striving to ignore the rising provocation, Bakugou grits his teeth. Fix the ship. Mind the mast. Nail the wood. Fix the ship. Mind the mast. Nail the wood. Fix the-

“It could be flat.” 

“Tch. The earth ain’t flat.” 

Pause. 

“Maps are flat.” 

Alright. That’s it.

Bakugou slams the hammer down. The sand is an underwhelming surface for it to fall on but it doesn’t matter. He’s ready to blow his cannon. 

Fire in the fucking hole. 

“Argh! Suffering stinking whiskers of a catfish!” he screams up into the sky. “I swear by the powers that be, I will blow you so clear off the face of this wretched forsaken earth that you won’t have time to look at what fate befalls your bloody soul on the way down to the fiery, fuming gates of fucking hell!”  

Chest heaving, Bakugou catches his breath. Sharp crimson eyes lock onto his target and stay there. 

What he sees apalls him. 

Head cocked to the side, Todoroki hums. There’s the telltale signs of amusement sneaking up to frame his mouth. A little unhinged, a lot unacceptable. Mirth carved from Bakugou’s misery - that’s what resides there behind the blatant chicanery. 

And still, he is not done yet. 

“Bakugou.” 

No. 

“Bakugou.” 

No. Avast. 

Captain Explosion Murder Pirate King has reached his final straw. He’d rather set sail right now and sink in the ocean than endure this. 

Unfortunately, Todoroki is persistent to a fault. Especially when it comes to being an annoyance. 

“To blow me off the face of the earth, it would need to be flat.” 

The storm is a wart on the shimmering sea. A small but ugly blemish they don’t need this early on in their voyage. 

Within minutes, the horizon cowers behind a veil of thick rain. Bakugou stares it down, grinning into the swirling dark clouds. The one is a cocky, overconfident thing. 

Already, it’s developed a hungry eye for devouring ships. 

Mainly, his. 

Time to show this tempest who truly rules these waters. He’s not the Captain Explosion Murder Pirate King for nothing. 

“Bring it on you foul beast!” Bakugou shouts. “Don’t underestimate me. I’ll cut right through you, wretched squall!”

Apparently, the storm also takes great offence to that. A roar erupts in the clouds, like a mighty dragon of the sky charging into battle. Lightning forks overhead. Visibility is low, rain slapping skin harshly. 

It’s one hell of a nuisance, but it’s the kind of monster they can fight with the right tactics. They’re in luck that the bite is much weaker than the bark. 

“Bakugou, what do we do?” Kirishima calls from the mast, securing the mainsail. 

Quite frankly, Bakugou could hardly give a flying hoot about relaying the plan.

He’s sailed many rough seas - this time the issues he faces are entirely manmade. For starters, there’s no rope fastening Kirishima to the sturdiest beam. Sero strays too far from the addleship. 

These are amateur moves Bakugou has no time for on his ship. 

This may be their first real storm, but that isn’t an excuse to forget safety. A ship is nothing without people tending to it. Bakugou isn’t about to lose his first crew to such a pathetic clump of clouds. 

The dragon of the sky may be ravenous. But it’s not getting a piece of them. 

Mark his words. 

“Oi!” Bakugou bellows across the ship. “Secure your harnesses, you rotten toerags! If I see a single one of you step out of line I’ll cast the damn anchor in you.”

“Is that a promise, Captain?” Sero teases, winding the rope around his waist. 

“Aye!” 

Harnesses secured, Bakugou looks over the knots. As expected, they’re more than competent. Looks like his crew have got some talents, after all. The ship jolts as the turbulent waves crash against them. 

Holding his ground, Bakugou opens his spyglass. 

Twenty minutes at best. That’s all the endurance they’ll need to be on the other side.

“Ahhh - this treasure of yours better be worth it!” Kaminari cries, clinging tight to both the rigging and his ridiculous hat instead of doing anything useful. 

“I want my gold doubled!” Mina exclaims from her place on deck. 

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou puts his hands on his hips. He’s drenched from head to toe but that won’t deter him. 

“Shut your traps and release the trysail.”  

Despite the circumstances, it’s smooth sailing from that point onwards. Through the billowing storm they plough. 

Bad weather proves to be no match for Bakugou’s swift commands and the crew’s diligence. There’s even time for the worst type of banter to parry back and forth between them all. 

Sero shrieks out the start of a chanty, Kaminari and Kirishima joining the cacophony of out-of-tune nonsense. Mina has a playful air about her movements, fear dispelled in the wake of Bakguou’s confident instructions. 

“Keep singing - I’ll throw you overboard.” 

“How?” Sero asks smartly - but not smartly at all. He gestures to the rope around their waists. 

“We’re fastened to the ship.” 

Pulling his cutlass out the scabbard, Bakugou grins. 

“That can be changed.” 

The goons are damn annoying and that annoyance is achingly familiar. More, it’s something Bakugou is aghast to realise he has missed. 

Deeply. Notably. 

Searing heat blisters his insides. Petty words spit from his mouth. These things, with the sweat on his palms and the fierce beating of his heart, all serve as reminders he is blazingly alive. 

Restoration disguised as rage. Solace in sharpness. 

So whilst Bakugou can forgive the meagre storm for its trespassing on his charted course, he cannot forgive or forget the bruising tenderness coaxed awake from its slumber beneath his bones. 

“I caught some fish,” Todoroki says with a small but easygoing smile. 

Well. 

It’s the least he could do. Especially since Bakugou found him soaking up the sun this morning instead of working. 

For such a nimble lithe pirate, Todoroki has one killer lazy streak. 

Despite the very real possibility of repairs going south and being stuck on the island for good, these days have relaxed him. 

Tension melts off his shoulders, leaving an unfurling unhurried contentment. There’s a spring in his step, eyes brighter than the glistening gold they had come all this way to loot. 

Here in this pocket of time, Todoroki is burnished and beautiful. 

It shouldn’t make sense. But Bakugou gets it. 

He feels pieces of himself opening beyond recognition. Walls collapsing. Trademark frowns and scowls all start to lose their definition. Snarls transform into scoffs. Insults no longer hold any real bite, drenched in a fondness so tangible it’s terrifying. 

The crackling of a new fire jolts Bakugou away from his thoughts. 

He welcomes the distraction. Even if it means setting eyes upon whatever the hell Todoroki seems to think counts as cooking. 

Pursing his lips, Bakugou watches in abject horror. The fish isn’t even gutted and there’s every chance the skin hasn’t been inspected. 

Confusion slowly morphs over Todoroki’s face as he stares at the fire, as if expecting the fish to have magically transformed into a stew or fried treat. 

It confirms all of Bakugou’s fears. 

This idiot is trying to be helpful but only causing a bigger mess with his incompetence. Honestly, it’s a wonder he’s a pirate at all. His practical survival skills are limited to foraging and fixing. 

Not much lot of good that will do if the bastard can’t prepare a damn meal. 

How Todoroki survives at sea is beyond him. 

“What the blazes are you doing?” Bakugou finally asks because unfortunately he is getting no enjoyment out of this.

The sight is pitiful. 

“Smoking the fish.” pause. Todoroki tilts his head, scrutinising the fire. “I think.” 

Bakugou snatches the fish away. There’s nothing worse than a meal ruined by poor preparation.

The solemn look on Todoroki’s face should not tug at Bakugou’s heartstrings. There’s no need to be so despondent about a blasted fish. 

That’s just stupid.

And yet - as those lips pout and his shoulders slump, Bakugou is already taking action. 

“If you want to make yourself useful, stoke the fire!”

Perking up at the order, Todoroki refrains from sulking and sets himself to work. He’s good with the flame. It heeds his commands, moulds into whatever he needs as if he is shaping the very thing with his hands. 

Bakugou is almost jealous of the gift. 

Not that making a fire is difficult or anything. Because it’s not. 

Todoroki simply has an inherent way of making everything seem a little more magical. Nature speaks to him, and he listens with rare patience. 

Setting a final log on the fire, Todoroki appraises his work. 

“What now?” 

“Cut some vegetables.” 

Might as well use the perishables first, save the longlasting rations for the voyage off this island. 

Todoroki looks at Bakugou like he just grew a second head. He stays rooted to the spot. 

“What - you ain’t got any?”

“I like apples. Red ones,” is what Todoroki says before striding off to Bakugou’s ship for supplies.

It's a weird thing to announce. The whole thing is ambiguous, yet uncharacteristically shifty. 

Sometimes, Todoroki can be a real cypher of his own to crack. 

Bakugou skewers the fish, setting them over the fire. From where he sits, he has a frontrow seat to the painstaking ordeal Todoroki makes of slicing and dicing. Cooking has never been so disastrous.

Now it makes sense. The unease. The dread. Todoroki’s reluctance. 

The initial frustration withers, leaving place for raw amusement. When Todoroki gets into a ridiculous rustle with a cabbage, rough peals of laughter burst from Bakugou’s chest. 

Christ almighty. 

In truth, Bakugou doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a poor display of cooking. And he’s seen many things on his travels.  

“You could help me,” Todoroki hisses like a scorned snake from his place in the sand roughhousing a rogue cabbage. 

The image of that alone merely tickles Bakugou’s lungs more. 

“Nah,” he grins, leaning back on his elbows. “I ain’t had entertainment like this for a while.” 

Eyes sharp, Todoroki shoots a sour glare in his direction. It’s the most incredible thing to witness. And it does nothing to salvage the bastard from his perilous encounters with the vegetables. 

By far, this is the most dramatic he has been in all their days together. For a moment, Bakugou wonders if this is another one of those elaborate jokes nobody else understands. 

But the bitter, pinched expression on that striking face is too real. 

Holy barnacles.

Todoroki is being serious.  

“Knew you’d throw me to the sharks one of these days…” he mutters under his breath. 

The rancorous words reach Bakugou and leave him gasping for breath as he falls onto his back. 

There are no doubts - Todorok is the most ridiculous pirate to have ever sailed the seas.  

He has Bakugou filling barrels with laughter at this point. 

Tossing the vegetables into the skillet, Todoroki sits. 

Finally, it's done. 

As he rummages through his pockets, silver catches the sunlight. 

Bakugou had been telling the truth when they first touched land here: silver does suit him. More than it should any person. 

“I call this one, Curse of the Cabbage.” 

Bakugou blinks, eyeing the wooden instrument revealed from inside the navy jacket. Of course Todoroki plays the fucking tin whistle. 

Bringing it to his mouth, Todoroki takes a breath. The shrill piercing sound Bakugou expects doesn’t come. In its place is a smooth clean melody decorated with trills and ornaments. 

The pace is fast, a surge of energy nearing frantic but carefully controlled by Todoroki’s clever fingers. 

Foot tapping the sand, Bakugou tends to the fire as the tune rings around him. 

It’s nice. 

Not that he’d admit it. 

“Hm. That usually gets people on their feet,” Todoroki admits, setting the whistle down. 

Bakugou snorts. 

“Too bad. I don’t dance.”

A low hum of consideration is all he gets in response. But Bakugou feels those eyes follow him as he finishes preparing their meal. 

It’s not quite scrutiny. There are no rough corners, no sharp edges. Just honest open interest. 

Somehow, that makes it worse. 

More than that, the interest is mirrored. Returned - in a way that squeezes at Bakugou so earnestly. 

There are words burning his tongue that he refuses to speak, more scalding than the heat of the fire on skin. 

He wants to satiate the knowing in his gut, listen to whatever Todoroki will give him. Be it a story, a song - even a secret. Bakguou would keep it all for himself, tucked into his trove of treasure. 

Shaking the traitorous thought away, he pokes the fire. 

“It’ll be ready soon.” 

His voice is rough and worn and Bakugou truly curses the notable cracks in it. 

“Play another if you want.”

Todoroki picks up the whistle and fills the languished silence with another tune. 

Despite the work that needs to be done, the rest of the afternoon passes this way. 

Nightfall soon descends upon them. And a cruise on calmer waters brings with it cheery camaraderie. 

By the light of the lanterns, Sero plays his concertina on the deck. The music is tinny, holding both the qualities of a flute and a horn all at once. The tune is not one Bakugou recognises, but his fingers thrum against the helm nonetheless. 

Mina and Kaminari swing arm in arm as they spin in frantic circles. It’s going to end with one of them getting seasick. 

Still, Bakugou watches them with a fierce kind of fondness. 

Attachment got Bakugou into this ridiculous mess in the first place. Now here he is - tethering himself again to a crew that could never be eternal. 

Curse it all. 

A hand clasps his shoulder, jolting him out of the bruisingly gentle reverie. 

“These are the nights I miss the most,” Kirishima’s warm voice says from beside him. “When the sea is quiet and the stars shine both on sky and sea.” 

Bakugou grunts in acknowledgement. 

It’s nice. Anyone would think so. But that’s smalltalk - a smooth segue into whatever Kirishima really wants to talk about. 

“Todoroki visited us once, you know.” 

There it is. 

Flabbergasted by the words, Bakugou musters his best scowl. He would’ve put ‘talk of Todoroki is banned’ in the code of conduct had he known it would ever be a possibility. 

Unfazed, Kirishima takes it as a signal to continue his story. Which is good. Because Bakugou needs to know exactly what nonsense that bastard pulled with his only potentially-kind-of-maybe friends. 

Hearing Todoroki’s name in the mouths of the very people Bakugou has assembled to find him is beyond jarring.  

Of all things, he had not expected there to be any connections. Yet there the bastard goes again - springing new traps on him. 

“It was some months back. Word was spreading about you claiming Shigaraki’s loot. We were talking about it at the inn and he swept by our table, told us he got there first.” 

Well. 

Just because it’s true doesn’t mean Todoroki deserves to boast about it. Bakugou can almost hear the low voice laced in fleeting amusement against his ear right now. 

Snickering, Bakugou drapes his arms over the helm. 

Of course Todoroki would take pride in something like that, only announcing victory when it suits him best.  

He’s still out there surviving and sailing. Somewhere. 

He has to be. 

Because the memory of Todoroki doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. 

It won’t ever be enough. 

And all at once, that dull ache he’s barely kept at bay begins to throb in his chest. It howls with the melody Sero strikes up across the ship. 

Clutching the helm tight, Bakugou winces. Beside him, Kirishima grows still. But he doesn’t stop talking- it’s a small act of mercy. 

“He looked more like a lost prince than a pirate. I’ve never seen a cloak so blue or robes that colour - and the gold laced boots!”

A helpless splutter leaves Bakugou’s lips. God damn that bloody menace and his fucking fake flashy boots. They cause more trouble than they’re worth - literally.  

Should someone ever make off with them, the biting disappointment may well do them in for good. 

“Everyone wanted a piece of his loot, but not a single pirate dared clash blades with him. He was misunderstood but respected by all. For most of the bread we shared, he didn’t speak at all. But when he did, he spoke of you with us. He told us of your daring adventures together.”

Bakugou hitches a breath. 

For the life of him, he can’t seem to shake his stiffening limbs loose and move. Or speak. The tension in his muscles snaps only to tighten once more. It’s a vicious cycle and it’s too much. 

He wants to correct Kirishima, curse him for speaking such sacrilege into existence. 

They weren’t together. 

Not really. 

Even when they were stranded on that forsaken rock, the potential always outweighed their proximity. The distance grew more palpable the closer their ships became. They had waded into dangerous waters, charted a hopeless, futile course. 

They hadn’t done it together. 

And yet. 

“That pendant you wear,” Kirishima starts, a careful note to his voice. 

He seems fully aware of the risks he is taking by venturing here. 

“It belonged to him.” 

Kirishima doesn’t voice it as a question, because he already knows. He’s always had a keen eye for detail, even if he doesn’t parade that gift around. 

“Belongs,” Bakugou amends, blinking the prickly hot moisture out of his eyes. 

Sea water is irritating his skin - that’s all it is. Nothing more. 

The lump in his throat is merely a trapped cough that won’t budge. And it’s imperative he speaks through it, because if it rises to the surface the sound will haunt him to the edge of the earth and beyond. 

“And I’ll - I’ll blast him to hell and back with my bare hands before I dare return it!”  

Damn this. 

How dare Todoroki tug at the strings of a heart that once had none. Or at least not enough to twist into these complex uncomfortable knots. 

Bakugou clearly isn’t fooling anybody, especially himself. Not nearly as well as he thought he could. 

Being guarded is an act that eventually wanes in the face of a deep dark longing. 

For more. For companionship. For people to share the whimsical wild ventures with. 

Squeezing Bakugou’s shoulder, Krishima smiles warmly. 

“We’ll see it done, Captain.” 

There’s no warning for the abrupt shift of atmosphere that follows. 

It starts with Sero flanking them down from the deck, grinning his cheshire gin. Mina hollers at them, voice muffled by the music. 

And by the time Bakugou can even consider barking out pointless orders for these lazy sluggards to get back to work, Kirishima drags him down the steps. Kaminari is already waiting to strike, tugging Bakugou into the dance. 

Laughter ripples around him. He endeavours to break free from too many linked arms and this folly. It’s futile. 

By the fourth tune, Bakugou gives up resistance. The crescent golden moon shines above, stars twinkling along to the music. 

If he listens close enough, behind the ruckus and the concertina is an amused voice carrying across the ocean. 

So you do dance. 

Above, the clouds give way to a myriad of twinkling jewels. Thousands upon thousands of stars, brighter than gold and beyond compare to the treasure they spend their days hunting. 

All kinds of maps could be charted from a sky like this, all kinds of things a pirate could take note of. 

The maps of the earth only go so far. 

Calling upon the sky, anchoring a course on the constancy of that unreachable gleaming, would give Bakugou an advantage for sure. 

If only he could keep his attention there right now. His focus slingshots back to the bastard who sneakily shuffles closer. 

Todoroki hangs on the cusp of sleep, sprawled across the sand. With each slow blink, his eyelids are heavier. The crinkles of his eyes as he smiles lazily are more hypnotic than the alluring voice of a siren - Bakugou is sure of it. 

Their dwindling fire flecks red and gold across a chiselled sharp jawline. The striking sweep of his cheekbones are accented, shadows speckled just as vibrantly over his skin. 

All of him is aglow in the ever-changing light, face a mesmeric kaleidoscope. 

Todoroki is beautiful this way. 

More beautiful than Bakugou dares articulate.

His mouth is a cavern of wonders, holding a silver tongue and golden voice. Even if the words that are stashed inside are worthless, Bakugou finds himself compelled to explore it all further.

It has to be the hunger messing with him, desperately reaching out for things beyond food to satisfy the burn behind his bones. 

That’s all it is. 

Folly by the fire. Stupidity beneath the stars. 

A foot nudges into his side, playful yet firm. It’s enough to jolt Bakugou out of his strange and quite frankly terrifying reverie. 

Fuck. 

It’s then he realises the bastard had been talking the entire time, wittering on about something or rather. 

“Bakugou,” Todoroki mutters and avast ye motherfucker - he is much closer now.

Their shoulders bump. 

“You’re not listening.” 

“Damn right I ain’t. Who the hell would listen to you?” 

“I could ask you the same…” 

Snorting, Bakugou shoves at the bastard’s side. There’s no force behind it, a mere jostle at best. Todoroki flows with the movement, drawn back to his side in an instant. 

As he shuffles, the silver pendant slips out from his shirt. Pale skin that Bakugou itches to roam and caress with his hands peeks through. It’s kind of pathetic, how the temptation to creep ever closer calls. 

At least the pendant provides some distraction. Bakugou can fix his gaze there without sinking into shame. 

“You’ve never asked about it,” Todoroki muses, holding up the pendant. 

There’s a sombre note to his voice, stretching further than talk of jewels and beloved possessions. Bakugou’s eyes flit up to the scar.

“I know you’re curious. If you want to ask, you can.” 

Bakugou doesn’t want to ask or pry. Not about the pendant. Not about the bigger things. Not about anything. 

Forcing it out of the man for any reason would be beyond unacceptable. 

And judging by the rigid twist of Todoroki’s spine, the sheer heaviness of his voice and that glassy detachment in his eyes, Bakugou gets the impression this has happened before. It's happened far too much. 

The absence of kindness. 

Anger reaches boiling point beneath his skin. He’d slice right through the people who left Todoroki so guarded, the ones who probed and pushed at his trauma until the truth resignedly fell out. 

He wants Todoroki to be comfortable. To feel safe enough to tell Bakugou his stories on his own terms.  

“I ain’t gonna ask.” 

Of all things, that seems to be what brings Todoroki back to him. A ragged breath leaves the man, lips curling round the wisps of a whimsical and wondrous smile. 

Bakugou yearns to cradle it. He’d press a kiss or two there - on the corner where the poignancy sits. Todoroki thinks he can hide it all in plain sight, as if nobody has truly looked at him enough to notice. 

“I got it from my mother,” Todoroki murmurs, tucking the pendant away. “This too…” 

Bakugou waits. He makes no assumptions. Not with a tale such as this. Todoroki can say as much or as little as he wants. From the clues scattered in conversation, Bakugou can gather the story of his family is a long and dispiriting one. 

But under these stars, Todoroki is under no obligation to dredge up his past and relive it. He belongs where he chooses to. 

All that matters is where they go now. 

“I’ve never told anyone that,” Todoroki admits. 

Hands brush - it amplifies this wretched thing that should never be named. Then their eyes meet and by the gods it’s too much. Too raw. 

Clearing his throat, Bakugou looks back up to the stars. One pitiful speck close to the horizon flutters, a bit like his pulse. 

Pathetic. It’s utterly pathetic. 

“How do you think the stories will go?” Todoroki asks beside him, voice hushed and low. “About us.” 

They’ve been parched for hours, but Bakugou finds himself choking as if having just swallowed half the damn sea. The awful way his stomach lurches at the words is hard to ignore. His eyes are ready to bulge out his damn skull. 

Then there’s the business of his heart which is never going to be the same again after this whole ordeal. 

Us. 

Before he can try to croak out a response, Todoroki continues. He pillows his head with his hands, staring up at the sky. 

For now, Bakugou is able to steal glances without the risk of being caught in the act. There’s a tiny secret tucked into the corner of that pretty mouth, in a language both familiar and foreign. 

It’s something Bakugou isn’t sure he can translate.  

“Maybe they’ll say you crashed your ship into the rocks. The mighty Explosion Murder bested by the sea...” 

Okay. 

That’s enough of that. 

Bakugou sits up in a fit of pure outrage. The audacity of this man is unreal. Leaning over Todoroki, he glowers right into those mismatched eyes. 

“Shut-up and listen good you blithering fucking dullard! I’m the best pirate there is. There ain’t no way I’d lose control.” 

Considering this, Todoroki nods. It’s surprisingly thoughtful of him to change the narrative just because Bakugou protested. 

Not that this is going anywhere. Nobody even knows they’re gone. Probably. 

“Marooned, then.” 

That’s even worse. Like hell his reputation could ever withstand that. 

Falling back onto the sand with a thud, Bakugou scoffs. 

“Tch. By who, the mermaids?”

Todoroki shrugs, eyes closed. “It could happen.” 

For some reason, the sleep-addled quality to his voice has Bakugou’s lips tracing out a rare smile. 

A part of him is desperate to jump ship. This is an act of pure selfishness - to indulge this, to sink into this moment further. He keeps himself on the cusp of consciousness, just to watch Todoroki illuminated by fire. 

“What about you?” 

It’s alarming how Bakugou almost doesn’t recognise his own damn voice. There’s a biting tenderness creeping in, a lull through the rasp.

If only the water could come and wash it away. 

“Hm?” 

“The stories,” Bakugou prompts and immediately he feels the prickly heat of embarrassment because this is so stupid. 

Here he is, logic eclipsed by the yearning in his veins. 

“What- what would they say?” 

“Oh.” 

Todoroki blinks open one eye gently, searching until he finds Bakugou’s face. 

“Nothing much, I imagine. After all, I brought my own fate upon myself.” 

There’s something there, in the lingering quiet. Bakugou watches Todoroki carefully, eyes trailing over skin. 

Even now, he’s a pirate parcelled in paradoxes. Both mysterious and moronic, cryptic and catastrophic. 

The duality seems impossible and yet Bakugou continues to glimpse it.

Beyond that, there’s a poignancy in Todoroki that most pirates pillage away before they ever dare set sail. The waters are unforgiving enough. But Todoroki carries it, wears the swansong on his sleeve.

He never lets it take him. 

It’s subtle - a sad, solitary thing. 

And whilst Bakugou is alone by choice, he wonders if Todoroki is simply alone by proxy. 

Because he has never known anything else, isn’t sure he ever can. It pokes at the building swell in Bakugou’s chest, slicing into his ribs. 

That hurt is an illusion. 

For Todoroki, it’s agonisingly real. 

Before he can consider what the blazes is about to leave his mouth, Bakugou rolls onto his side to face Todoroki head-on. 

“You’re wrong.” 

Todoroki must hear the urgency in his voice, mirroring Bakugou until their foreheads are inches from touching. It’s vulnerable, it’s raw. It’s fucking incredible and horrible all at once. 

Their eyes catch. 

Bakugou’s fingers itch with the overwhelming desire to reach out and ghost over skin. Hand hovering, he sucks in a sharp breath. 

It’s unclear how much time passes. But the pull of gravity set against the push of a stubborn stalemate is profound. 

Todoroki makes the choice for them both, settling against the outstretched palm in a way of such genuine gentle affection the breath Bakugou holds clumsily splinters. His thumb rubs circles into the skin, stroking against the scar. 

“They’d say you were brave, better than most of us.”  

“You think so?” Todoroki whispers, eyes big and full of something dangerous. 

They offer everything Bakugou has been both chasing and fleeing. 

His lips are tantalisingly close to brushing Bakugou’s wandering fingers. 

They’re so close. Too close. Not close enough.  

“Yeah,” Bakugou manages, barely. “Yeah.”

He retracts his hand, aghast by the throbbing absence it brings. 

The Captain’s cabin is just about the only place Bakugou is guaranteed to find privacy. Ironic - considering it’s his own ship. 

Candlelight spills tones of orange and maroon across the room. Amidst the warmth, Bakugou traces absent patterns across the silver pendant. 

When sailing alone, he hardly spent time down here at all. Most of his days were up on deck, ensuring his course was set. 

Relying on others is foolish. He knows this. But sailing with a small crew on board, it becomes an undeniable truth that the ship had been achingly lonely before.

A ship this size is wasted without a healthy number of hands. He’s noticed the improvements - not just in efficiency. 

The days at The Overhaul with Todoroki unleashed a formidable curse on him. 

Bakugou is sure of it. 

And now - even in this cabin - it lurks in the corners. It’s a beast forged from the darkest pieces of his soul. Waiting. Waiting some more. Waiting for the opportune moment to sink in its teeth. 

The beast is emptiness. 

Vast, unending emptiness. It gnaws at his heels, trails after him like a foreboding hound of hell. It grows more and more each day. 

Despite the company he keeps and the business of the voyage - it makes no difference.  

The beast is there.

Losing that one constant in his life has given it plenty to feast on. 

Memories. Misery. The magnetism of what had been building between them, the-

A knock on the cabin door disrupts the near descent into wallowing. Bakugou and his ship are not sunken yet. He won’t be caught moping over a man like Todoroki Shouto. Or anyone. Or anything.

He’s fine. 

He’s the Pirate King. 

Bakugou tucks the pendant away, steeling himself. 

“Enter,” he calls out. 

The door creeps open. There stands an uncharacteristically tentative Mina. 

Closing the door behind her, she takes a seat across from Bakugou. Her fingers tap the wood. A nervous pattering, like rain on the window or a fluttered heartbeat. 

It’s infuriating. 

He’d know what to do about cheery jabs and teasing remarks. But he isn’t quite sure what to do with this. Whatever the devil it is.

Mina clasps her hands together, lips pursed. And that’s when it hits. 

Concern - this is concern. 

For him. 

“What’s on your heart, Captain?” she asks. 

Bakugou bristles at the insinuation. His troubles can’t be that transparent. They can’t. 

“Ain’t nothing on my heart. Or in it.” 

That’s the last he will have of that kind of talk. 

Studying the maps on the table, Mina follows the thick red line with her finger. She’s amenable to playing fair tonight. Or rather, being patient enough to find a better moment to get answers.

“Where does this lead?” 

Backwards. 

“Chisaki’s loot,” Bakugou points to the island he is all too familiar with. “The wreckage of The Overhaul washed up there. I found it.” 

We both found it. 

Then he got stuck. Spent six days and five nights with Todoroki. Fell irrevocably in love for certain. Passed the point of no return and flung it into the sun to perish. 

No big deal. 

“Woah!” Mina exclaims. 

Her enthusiasm gives way to a playful energy. 

“Wait - does that mean these all lead to treasure?”

Bakugou looks down at the trails sketched across the paper. It’s hardly a real map at all - more like a Captain’s log. These maps hold a record of all the places he has known. Places Todoroki sailed. 

The places they meet and where they part, moving in tandem. And together, these lines create a perimeter for his whereabouts. 

Putting it all on paper, it’s clear how their paths run parallel. At times they are almost totally conjoined. Merged into one. 

Well. 

“Yeah,” is what Bakugou settles with. 

Arms folded, Mina leans back in her seat. 

“I’m surprised, Bakugou. That’s not very smart of you. Anyone could take these maps and steal it for themselves!” 

“They could try.”

“We’re getting close though, aren’t we?” Mina probes. “To what you’re searching for.”

Bakugou takes a shaky breath, trying to calm the turbulence rising up. 

They’ve charted through most of these routes. With the vast expanse of sea around, it would be easy to spot another vessel. But Todoroki's ship has been nowhere in sight.

Not even a dot on the horizon. 

The odds are wearing thin - even Bakugou knows that much. 

Still, there’s no way in hell he’s giving up. 

“I think so.” 

“You think - so you don’t know?!” Scrunching her nose, Mina’s bustling cheer deflates. “Sounds like you’re going off a hunch.” 

There’s judgement there, even if not intentional. It weaves around the words and Bakugou has no time for it. His pride is wounded enough. 

“Got a problem with my methods?” 

Wincing, Mina offers a sheepish smile. 

“Curses,” she breathes. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Bakugou doesn’t push further. By the looks of things, Mina isn’t finished explaining yet. She takes a moment to regather her words. 

It’s more than most pirates would do - a reminder that her attentive diplomacy is rather admirable. 

“I mean, it’s not like you to be unsure about where you’re going. You’ve always been strategic.” She shrugs. “You’ve always got a plan.”

Well. 

Call Bakugou a darned open book because he’s been read good by this wicked woman.  

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Mina continues. “I only wonder what drove you to this and if it ails you.”

She doesn’t say it, but Bakugou hears it. The affirmation of care she holds for him. Stern and strong, enduring in all waters. 

It’s a little overwhelming.

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re lying,” Mina sighs as she stands. “But I’ll trust you for now. After all, you’re our Captain!” 

Folding up the maps, Bakugou frowns. There’s every chance the others won’t be so willing to overlook his recent lack of direction. Captains are steadfast. Certain. As if hearing the internal doubts plaguing his mind, Mina speaks. 

“They’d go with you in a heartbeat. Wherever you went, they would follow.” 

She offers the whisper of a smile, the kindness of it glows in the candlelight. 

“Me too.” 

There’s no excuse for the ridiculous things that does to Bakugou’s composure. He can feel it unravelling, like a thread these people are so prone to tugging. Not out of malice, or spite. 

No. 

This is bitingly kind, unbearably candid in its compassion. 

“Gross,” he spits. 

“Aw,” Mina coos by the doorway. “Feeling all gooey and warm inside?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Bakugou meets her mischievous expression. The twitch of his own lips is a betrayal he can tolerate for once. 

“Speak of this again and I’ll throw you to a remote island for the rest of your blithering days.” 

“Oooh - a vacation. That's too kind!”  

Mina gives a final wave, tongue poking out as she skips through the ship. 

For a moment, Bakugou expects that invisible beast to seize this moment of stillness. Shred it with its serrated teeth. Scatter the pieces across the cabin. 

But it doesn’t. 

In place of emptiness, is warmth. 

“Not that I doubt our combined survival skills,” Todoroki muses, absent amusement lacing the words. 

“But I’m surprised we’ve lasted this long. After all, we’ve never spent more than a day together.” 

Despite that being the truth, Bakugou is struck by how ridiculous it sounds when put into perspective. 

Making chase to the next treasure, swinging swords and exchanging quips - these moments are always fleeting, a fraction of their time at sea. Yet Bakugou can’t deny he values them almost as much as the loot itself. 

Sometimes, the truth is illuminating in the worst of ways. 

Now here they are. One day spun into two spun into five. Soon to be six. 

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” Bakugou hisses. 

Todoroki rolls onto his side, face shielded from view. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it...” 

Funny. 

There’s something wistful in the words that Bakugou can’t bring himself to place. Before he tries to, he takes a ragged deep breath.

This can’t continue. 

It can’t be allowed to sprout anymore buds on fresh branches. Bakugou planted the seed to his downfall with his own hands. All through indulging their time here. 

Then he watered it, nurtured it. 

But this is where it has to end. 

Because the only thing worse than entertaining that slither of hope is knowing it’s totally false. 

In order to heal this inevitable wound he has to make his own first. That’s what he intends to do. 

“I’m serious. This situation ain’t permanent.”

“Yes. I’m perfectly aware,” Todoroki says, more clipped and controlled than before.

A chill runs down Bakugou’s spine at the icy tone. Of all things, it spurs him on. He has to push back - it’s the only way to get this nauseating sentiment out of his system for good. 

Purge it here and now. Be rid of it get rid of it. 

Teeth gritted, Bakugou huffs. He’ll break his own heart, sparing Todoroki the guilt and shame of having to do it. 

“Good. Cos this doesn't change a damn thing.”

“Of course.” 

Despite the blunt responses, there’s a lack of fire to Todoroki. He’s cold. So very cold - nearing despondent the more he speaks. 

If Bakugou is going down, he wants fireworks. 

Not this. Anything but this. 

Bakugou isn’t a liar. He’s not cruel. Yet here, under the wiles of something as fragile as love he’s become both. The words topple out without permission and it stings. 

“I’ll be glad to be rid of you.” 

Todoroki looks over, giving Bakugou a perfect view of the unmistakable hurt flashing in his eyes. Like he wants Bakugou to see it. 

Fuck. 

Bakugou has done this. He’s done this and he’s not proud.

Turning away, Todoroki fades further into obscurity. 

“Rest assured, the feeling is mutual.” 

Backtrack. Rewind. Damage control. Time to jump fucking ship. Bakugou sucks in a breath, feigns nonchalance he hopes is convincing. 

“It ain’t personal.”

Bakugou hates excuses. This sounds like one. 

Upon his life, it’s nauseating to hear it crawl out his own mouth and rear its ugly head. 

“Duly noted.” 

That relentless blizzard in Todoroki has frozen the syllables until they’re brittle. And Bakugou can’t find a damn thing between the lines anymore. Maybe because there's nothing left to reach for.  

Todoroki is turned to stone, an echo of the misplaced stoicism people actually believe defines him. But all stone breaks with the right pressure. 

So Bakugou keeps pushing. 

For something.

Anything. 

“I’m my own Captain.” 

“And I sail alone. Savvy?” 

Well. 

There it all goes. 

Trust Todoroki to be the most cliched pirate Bakugou has had the misfortune of ever knowing. 

Fucking savvy. 

He’s seen a lot of landlubbers on his time out here. None of them are as terrible as Todoroki Shouto, and none of them ever will be. 

That’s kind of the problem. 

Not a single person compares to this enigmatic bastard. Curse this gorgeous man to hell and back and no-

No. No. No. 

The emotional whiplash is overwhelming. All the more reason to sever the ties that bind them. Cut the cords for good. 

It’s too much when it comes to Todoroki. This giant mess they’re making in the face of a rivalry that never really held animosity is ridiculous. 

“What’s next,” Bakugou spits between a breathless sound punched out of his lungs. 

He’s caught halfway between a bitter laugh and a broken sob. This whole thing sucks. But it’s for the best. It has to be. 

“Parley?” 

We’re fine. It’s fine. Just say we're fine. Things haven’t changed. They won’t change- 

Todoroki hums. There’s a sombre quality to it. His back is still turned. 

“Weren’t we already in a parley, of sorts?” 

Stillness lures them into its clutches, the question hanging between them. Bakugou’s answer - I don’t actually hate you I never have and I never will you stupid fucking bastard - goes unvoiced. 

He wants nothing more for Todoroki to hear it. 

He doesn’t get the chance. 

When he wakes at dawn, Todoroki and his ship are gone. 

Sailing further south had been a good call. Through the spyglass, Bakugou sets his gaze on a familiar ship he never thought he’d find. But here it is, in plain sight. Agonisingly close. 

Bakugou surveys the condition of the ship - Todoroki's ship. The flag is frayed, angry gashes tearing the silver and gold symbol open. Almost akin to claw marks. 

Whatever creature had done this had been persistent about the job.

It makes Bakugou’s mind wander. 

He shoves the restless swell of turbulent emotions down to the hold where they belong. Out of sight and definitely out of mind. Todoroki may be one of the worst pirates Bakugou has ever seen, but he’s not totally incompentent. 

Another once-over with trembling palms confirms the rest of the ship is intact. Not a damn scratch. 

But still, something happened. 

Setting the spyglass down, Bakugou’s scowl curls further up into the corner of his mouth. His impertinent crew hover on the outskirts of his orbit. Curiosity brews around him. 

“What’s up, boss?” Sero asks between chunks of a juicy red apple that definitely had not been on the ration list for today. 

Eyes narrowed towards just one of the many causes of a splitting headache, Bakugou sharpens his gaze. 

Part Bakugou had been meaning to save that for Todoroki. I like apples, red ones. Of course, there’s no fucking way Bakugou can admit that. 

Saving an apple for the man he has roamed the perilous seas to find is borderline pitiful. 

The only thing he should have saved for Todoroki is a guaranteed appointment with his cutlass. 

Again, he can’t say that. 

The damn crew are ravenous for material - they’ll take whatever scraps they can to twist into a mortifying joke at his expense. 

Mina barrels into Bakguou’s side, leaning precariously over the deck. 

“Ohh! Is this it?!” she exclaims, swinging an arm around his shoulders. “Land ahoy boys!” 

Escaping her is futile. Mina has an outrageously strong hold. Arms folded, Bakugou huffs. He is unimpressed, totally and utterly disgusted. 

They deserve to know it. 

Snatching the spyglass from Bakugou’s hands, Kaminari observes the horizon. The tricorn sits lopsided and awkward on his head, much like the rest of his supposed pirate attire. 

Bakugou will have to change that the next chance they get. He can’t have the crew representing him look like complete scallywags. 

“Is that where the treasure is?” Kaminari asks, but there’s a strange quiver in his voice that cannot be trusted and should not be overlooked.

Bakugou is all-too familiar with how loose the ropes of amusement are with these freaks. 

“Aye,” Sero tosses the apple into the air, a whistle far from innocent leaves his lips. “The booty lies ashore.” 

Slumped against the deck, Kirishima sighs. It’s the most dramatic Bakugou has seen him, which means nothing good. 

There is a terrible omen about the ship right now. They’re practically screaming mutiny before his eyes. 

It’s obscene and absolutely blasphemous. 

“We’ve been sailing for twenty days straight... Must be one hell of a booty.” 

“Must be,” Mina parrots. 

Humming absently, Kaminari hands the spyglass over to Sero. 

“Must be.”

“Aye,” Sero muses solemnly, of all things. “It must be...” 

In that moment, four pairs of eyes dart towards Bakugou. Like vultures, they wait. They’ll take anything and everything. 

Lips clamped shut, Bakugou keeps his gaze fixed on the speck of land up ahead. 

No way in hell is he indulging these idiots. 

They can just stand there like fools watching him hold his ground like the proud brilliant captain he is, the pinnacle pillar of the sea. 

For some reason Bakugou refuses to acknowledge, the losers burst into raucous laughter. The second silence tries to slither in, they're destroying it. And their blasted infenral nonsense is explosive, like a catastrophic fire in the hole. Only the hole is his chest and Bakugou hates that the heart he has kept guarded is aching in the worst of ways. 

It takes more effort than it should to keep the frown firmly rooted on his lips. 

Right now, they are in direct breach of the ship’s code of conduct. If he had a damn plank aboard, they’d be walking. 

As if sensing the annoyance beneath his veins, the crew’s laughter rolls out with the waves. 

“We made it, Captain.” 

“We did,” Sero concurs. 

“But Kacchan, what kind of trove beholds us?” Kaminari manages through gasps of air. “I can’t see any signs of gold.” 

Bakugou is not only appalled at their treachery, but their lack of pirate instincts. 

Anyone with sense would know the best loots are burrowed beneath the sand or stashed in the grove. 

With a shrug far too nonchalant to be genuine, Sero takes another inspection of the island through the spyglass. 

“It doesn’t matter, there’s more gold among us I’d say.”  

He hands the spyglass to Kirishima, whose face lights up in realisation. Honestly, considering these piracaroons are pirates, they have no fucking tact. 

They couldn’t hornswaggle if their life depended on it. Yet somehow, their brutal honesty and foolish integrity makes them all the more endearing. 

The fact Kirishima offers a sympathetic toothy smile in Bakguou’s direction before participating in this farce is not any consolation whatsoever. There’s a tentative element woven into his words - but it makes no difference. 

“Isn’t that Todoroki’s ship, Captain?” 

Son a fucking bisuit eater. 

Well. 

The revelation that follows is one that deserves a special place to rot in Davy Jones’ locker. 

They knew. 

They all knew. This whole bleeding time. 

“Sailing across the seas in search of someone - you know, I think I find the whole thing kind of poetic.” 

Sero winks as he shimmies past Kaminari to nestle into the only bit of space left Bakugou had prized as his own. 

Sinister doesn’t even cut it. 

Bakugou makes note to throw the concertina overboard lest a new chanty be composed in honour of this horrific event. 

Christ. 

“And hey, it’s fine there’s no treasure in it for us. Maybe the real treasure all along was the-” 

Eyes still pointedly rooted to the horizon, Bakugou reaches over to cover that awful mouth with his hand.

No. That stupid sentence will not be finished. 

Too long has Bakugou been tolerant of this calamitous chicanery. 

Sero’s words are muted against his palm. With it, the atmosphere mellows. Mina claps Bakugou on the shoulder one final time before marching back to her post. The others trickle out of his peripheral, following suit. 

Slipping out of Bakugou’s grip, Sero returns the spyglass. Courteous of him, considering everything else taken this afternoon can never be returned. 

As the wave hits the hull of the ship, something too close to concern washes over Bakugou. 

Todoroki is right there - on his horizon. 

The sooner he can make land, the better. 

“You don’t doubt Todoroki’s strength do you?” Sero muses lowly. “Because- just saying - that would probably be an insult to you as well. You know, considering he’s your greatest rival...”

It’s the worst bait Bakugou has ever had to endure because it successfully pushes all of his blasted buttons. 

Just this once, in the hush that has descended upon the ship, he will take it. Willingly. 

Beneath the taunt, he hears the message swirling with the sea. 

He’s alright. He’s going to be fine. 

There’s no way Bakugou can begin to express gratitude for that reassurance, no matter how meagre. So he bites. 

And as he spits out the words, tongue clicking harshly against the roof of his mouth, the rush of relief he had been craving finally hits. 

“The only thing I doubt is your ability to play a damn decent song.” 

They approach land within the hour, casting the anchor a way offshore. From this distance, there’s no room to second guess. 

Todoroki is here. 

His ship is docked on the small port that runs along the beach. There’s a cabin tucked into the edge of the grove. It’s not a new building. The roof is frayed and the wood splinters. 

That doesn’t really matter. None of it does. 

Bakugou can hardly pay these important details - that every pirate should catalogue before entering unknown territory - any mind. 

All he wants is to see the bastard’s face again. 

“Make a mess of my ship and I’ll blast you all to kingdom fucking come,” Bakugou barks over his shoulder. 

He’s met with an ominous jarring silence. Honestly, it’s worse than all the tomfoolery and usual nonsense.

Silence swells into something suffocating. Apprehensive glances follow him back and forth as he readies the rowboat. 

Just the one. 

This is a journey only he can make. To reconcile, to do whatever needs to be done to put it all back to the way it had been before. Where it had been effortless, easy. Unchanged. 

Bakugou has no idea what kind of waters he’ll be wading into. 

And for the first time in his life, that rattles his bones. Not knowing, not being sure. 

“You’ll be coming back,” Kaminari says through an audible lump in his throat. “Won’t you, Kacchan?” 

“Aye! Of course he will,” Sero replies. 

There’s a twinge of uncertainty in his voice that is so palpable even Bakugou winces. Steeling himself, he turns to the crew - his crew - with a shaky smirk. 

“Like hell I’d leave my ship.” 

The words fall on a reticent audience. Not a single mocking jibe or taunt is made. Instead, there’s trepidation. 

Ducking his head, Bakugou clicks his tongue. Shame sticks to his skin and it is a nuisance to shed. 

How dare they underestimate him in such a way. How dare they make him spell it out. 

Blast it all to hell. 

Having friends is such a hassle. Having feelings is even worse. 

“Oi, oi, oi…” he starts. “What kind of shitty Captain abandons his crew? Don’t take me for some good-for-nothing swine.” 

Kaminari’s watery eyes widen, bottom lip wobbling. Sero leans against Kirishima, grinning his stupid grin. It’s kind of perfect. 

What they’ve built together on this ship is unbreakable. Bakugou blinks rapidly, averting his gaze. Damn this all. This is beyond embarrassing. But they deserve to be assured they have a home here. 

So with itchy eyes and a scratchy throat, he ploughs through the moment. 

“But be warned! If you shrieking scuttlebutts ever try to weasel your way out this job, I’ll toss you to the brig and-” 

Mina dives forwards first, almost knocking Bakugou off balance. And that’s the catalyst for the messiest most uncomfortable hug he has ever been part of. There’s just not enough room for everyone to fit. But they’re trying their damn best anyway. Maybe that’s the point. 

Whatever. 

“Go get your treasure,” Sero teases. “Explosion Murder.”

Kaminari nuzzles into his side, very much against letting Bakugou go free. 

“We’ll be waiting, Pirate King.” 

“You better not blow it!” Mina hollers as Bakugou finally shakes the blazing barnacles off. 

For that, she gets a special treat, the flip of the old seabird. Laughter fills the deck - it’s a fitting way to see him off. 

Better to face the unknown in cahoots with clowns than deals with demons. 

Bakugou rows with vigour, until his damn arms are aching from the force of his effort. Doing things by halves is out of the question. It always has been. 

Now he’s this close, his mind is reeling with possibilities. How Todoroki got here, how long he’s been here, if he’s desecrated more vegetables, has he thought of Bakugou- 

All of it is unhelpful garbage. The truth is what he needs. 

Objective. Clear-cut. 

Like the unmistakable silhouette of Todoroki by the shoreline, waiting for him. 

Nothing could have prepared Bakugou for when he makes land. 

Hoisting himself out of the rowboat, he comes to a halt a few feet from Todoroki. 

The man is a devastating sight. He looks just as beautiful and beguiling as their last night beneath the stars. Mismatched eyes catch the light to make constellations of their own. His pronounced cheekbones and sharp jawline are cut like the finest jewel of a loot, his silky hair that- 

Wait a damn minute.

“Who did this?” Bakugou asks, mortified at how he’s suddenly moved ten paces and has a fistful of Todoroki’s cropped hair in his hands. 

The damn bastard sinks into the touch. As if it’s normal for them, as if he trusts Bakugou implicitly. 

“I did. I needed a change.” 

God. 

That voice is a fraction deeper than Bakugou remembers, diving low into a rich tone that sets into motion a terrible tremble in his hands. 

Seeing him, touching him. Hearing him - it’s confirmation Todoroki is really here. 

They’re both here. 

As the initial relief wears off, Bakugou catches an anomaly. There’s something about how Todoroki speaks that sticks out. A hollow timbre - the hint of mutual misery. 

One word is wedged between it all. 

Change. 

Well. Yeah. 

They both certainly got their fair taste of that rotten fiend. 

Averting his gaze, Bakugou bites down the vicious bitter retort on his tongue. He’s not here to cause calamity or speak without caution just because the wound beneath his bones won’t heal. 

Todoroki can do whatever he wants. So just like he chose to disappear without warning - without a goodbye - he can cut his blasted hair. 

It’s his life. 

And this isn’t how Bakugou wants their reunion to go. 

Stilted. Awkward. Charged. 

Now he’s here, Bakugou is working against the gravity that holds him in place, rather than for it. 

Maybe because it’s too real, too tangible. Maybe it’s because it’s not enough yet too much all at once. 

Back on the ship, Bakugou never entertained how this would play out. He hadn’t dared. 

“Looks alright, I guess.” 

Lips pursed, Todoroki pries himself out of Bakugou’s hands. Their fingers brush for a moment and it’s nothing short of magnificent. 

He doesn’t step away. He stays right in orbit - chooses to. 

Carefully, Todoroki scans Bakugou’s face. Confusion is poorly concealed in his expression. 

“No hello?” 

Being this close, Bakugou can hardly stand it. The casual playful tone, the bruising sincerity of every little thing. He missed it. He missed it so fucking much that the moment has him in a messy chokehold. 

He can’t work the words out over his heavy tongue, he can’t catch a damn breath. Air evades him. No matter how much he breathes, it doesn’t soothe the burning in his lungs.

Something gives him away. In an instant, Todoroki’s hands are clasping his shoulders. There’s urgency in his voice.

“Bakugou. What happened?”

That’s his name in Todoroki’s mouth. Spoken with so much reverence. Even now, after all that has passed. Bakugou clenches his fists by his side tightly. 

You were gone. I had no idea where you were and it fucking tore me up inside. 

Perhaps it’s petty, but Bakugou takes a verbal swing. Just to turn the tables and balance it out. One more time, for the good old days. 

“Like you don’t know, bastard.”

Todoroki jolts back as if scorned. And it’s awful, how Bakugou yearns to follow. 

He doesn’t though. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

That’s the final straw. 

Bakugou pulls out his cutlass, the tip poking Todoroki’s chest. For some reason, there’s no parry, no retaliation. A frowning Todoroki stands there, patient of all things. 

It makes it difficult to be so infuriated. Still, Bakugou holds his ground. He deserves answers and he’s getting them one way or another this time. 

“Where the hell have you been?!” 

In response, Todoroki gestures around them. A slow pointed blink punctuates it. And that’s just swell, fucking fantastic. He thinks he’s being smart, possibly even a little funny. 

The bastard is neither. 

He’s not getting off the hook that easy. 

“Be serious.” 

“I am.” 

Whipping his sword from Todoroki’s chest towards the docked ship, Bakugou scowls. 

“Your flag is ripped to shreds.”

A fond smile creeps over Todoroki’s lips. 

“There was a bit of an accident. I can explain.” 

“Out with it then.” 

Before he can elaborate, a wild ocelot weaves its way through his leg, mewling. For a cat that is not at all domestic, it is certainly comfortable being around Todoroki. Bakugou watches him haul the cat into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to the nose. 

Pathetic, how Bakugou yearns for the same treatment. Great. So now he’s envious of an ocelot. 

“She got stuck on the crow’s nest. Before she came down, she did a number on the flag. It must have been therapeutic.” 

Bakugou blinks. Then blinks again. 

What he sees doesn’t change. 

Todoroki - pirate turned prince - rescuing and befriending wild animals in the forests, going on magical adventures with them. 

“She was badly injured at first. I met her shortly after we-...” 

Todoroki comes to a pause. 

There are no doubts about what he’s referring to. Bakugou lowers his cutlass, but keeps it unsheathed. Ocelots have a nasty bite. Beneath big brown eyes and patterned fur is a feral beast. 

It’s a wonder Todoroki doesn’t have any marks on him. 

“Sailing makes her seasick, and I don’t have enough provisions to feed her. So I decided to find her somewhere on land to roam.” 

Oh. Blazes. 

Bakugou considers the story. Tragic - how he may have misread this entire situation. 

“You left piracy for a cat?” is what comes out.

Setting the ocelot down, Todoroki frowns. He must hear the accusation. 

You left me.

“It’s only been three weeks.” 

Maybe. 

It doesn’t matter. Because it feels like a damned lifetime has passed since they were caught in orbit. 

Todoroki not showing up, abandoning the treasure, the iciness of his last words, their unspoken routine shattered - it had set in motion a deep residual fear Bakugou didn’t know he even had. 

Losing Todoroki, that’s not something he can accept. Ever. 

He keeps that to himself, but something in his demeanour must betray him. Todoroki sets the giant furball down, inching closer with caution. 

Realisation flickers in those mismatched eyes and Bakugou wants to smite it. Throw it into the deepest darkest waters known to man and watch it sink.

It was supposed to sink. Their ship was never supposed to sail. 

Yet here they are, on the precipice of finally boarding it. 

“Katsuki…” Todoroki comes to a halt, looking beyond lost. “I thought you’d be pleased to be rid of-”

Pause. 

I’ll be glad to be rid of you. 

Todoroki tries again. 

“You turned our tides.” 

It’s not something unkind, or an accusation. It’s simply true. Bakugou did. 

That doesn’t mean he wanted to. But that’s the thing about unrequited love, it needs purging. 

Fast. 

And then, after all of that, it didn’t do a damn thing. The feeling festered and spread deeper. So deep that the poison in his veins had become too powerful in its biting potency. 

Bakugou can’t undo what has been done. But he can make repairs. Just like patching up a hole in a ship on an island. 

Maybe it can be that simple. 

“Listen. What I said back then meant squat.”

“I know,” Todoroki musters a weary smile. 

Suddenly, he looks older than his years. So tired. To the very bone. Weathered by a silent raging storm. One that swept across them both without permission and ravaged their insides. 

“I understand. You said it wasn't personal.” 

Todoroki’s words are devastatingly raw. He sounds so forlorn that it can’t be right. It just can’t. There’s just no way this is happening. No way in hell. 

Because Bakugou knows that tone, has felt that agony. Like he’s waiting for something unspoken with bated breath, hanging onto the same taut thread of hope. No matter the odds, no matter how frayed it gets, he clings desperate to it. 

The very thing that brought him here. 

Love. 

Stupid, unyeilding love. 

And maybe Bakugou didn’t just break his own foolish heart. Maybe he took them both down in one merciless unthinkable swoop. 

The possibility gives him unwavering courage. What blasted fools they've been. Especially him. 

Sighing, Bakugou lets the words out. The ones he has been holding in his heart until they bruise all this time. 

“Curses, Todoroki... being rid of you ain’t what I want. It never was."

In the quiet between them, Todoroki's hitched breath is all that can be heard. And Bakugou desperately wants to save this, make amends. He's had the whole damn trip to wallow in the consequences of words and actions born beneath a raging sun, a mournful moon.  

Now it's burn or be burned.

So he'll walk into the fire and take the heat of it. He needs to. More, he wants to. The Overhaul shipwreck didn't change him, it didn't complete him. It broke him when he least expected to break because Bakugou once had the gall to believe he was invincible. Untouchable. The pieces he's stiched back together are still frayed. But they're the most earnest pieces of him, the ones that have gotten him this far. 

Sucking in a sharp breath, Bakugou continues. 

"I ain't gonna wish to take it back, that won't do squat. But I'm - I'm fucking sorry." There. He said it, and he meant it. "But best get the satsifaction in now, you bastard!! Cos for the rest of my bleeding life, I'll make sure you never hear such a thing from me again - you got it?”

I'll do better - we'll do better. I'll do fucking right by you if you let me. Do you want that? Fucking tell me you want that-

Their eyes meet. 

Todoroki’s solid resolve crumples. He blinks back the moisture, but it’s not enough to stop a lone tear cascading down his face. Bakugou wants to wipe it away with this thumb, catch the sadness and kiss the corners of those beautiful bright eyes. 

They’re caught in the chasm of it. And this is the where it fucking counts. Now or never. Sink or swim. Bakugou steels himself. 

He’s ready. 

“Todoroki-kun, we’re just preparing the-” a familiar voice calls, bringing the entire moment to a grinding galling halt. 

Distinctive yet unremarkable green curls frame a face speckled in stardust. He pokes out from the cabin by the edge of the grove. 

No way. 

Deku. 

Known through the waters as the notorious vigilante pirate, Green Flare. A rare breed of moral integrity and feral standing - doing the job the marines never could. Deku captures those that break the code, dishonouring the worst of the worst.

To many, he’s a hero. The pirate world’s very first. 

Bakugou is over the jaded bitter resentment that festered in the shadow cast when Deku climbed into the light. They were kids back then. He knows better now than to underestimate Deku and overestimate himself. 

Avast. Heroes are cool. Legends are cooler. And if anyone is a legend, it’s him. 

Obviously. 

So now that’s settled, they can move onto what the blazes this menace is doing, weaseling his way in cosy with Todoroki Shouto. 

“Kacchan!!” Deku exclaims, a wobbly smile spreading over his lips. 

Here it comes. 

The wave crashes into Bakugou without warning and there’s no darned place to hide. Astounding - how this damn nerd can be so observant yet utterly oblivious to the moment he has desecrated.

“It’s been so long - wow you’ve grown so much, which of course you would because we’re people and that’s what we do both outward and inward for the whole of our lives for the most part - but aho! You’re not taller than me anymore ahahaha.”

Years. 

It’s been years since Bakugou had to endure the painful unending spiel from this ridiculous man. 

Perhaps this is how he meets his end. 

Not by the tip of a sword or the heat of a flame. Nor by the relentless water - by the babbling blathering barnacle that is Deku. 

“Ahh! You’re amazing as ever, Kacchan. If anyone ever found my hideout, I always hoped it would be you.” 

Usually, Bakugou would be proud about that. But Todoroki making port on the remote island - a glaring sign in itself - takes the foremast. 

“Quit your infernal wittering, fool.”

There are better things to do, like counting the specs of sand stuck to his boots.

“You two know each other?” Todoroki blinks, glancing between them in wild bemusement. 

“Mhm!”

“Unfortunately,” Bakugou spits at the same time, lacking in any heat. 

Despite the circumstances, it is good to see Deku. 

It’s just a shame he’s bearing witness to one of the most catalytic and crucial moments of Bakugou’s entire life. 

Todoroki observes them. His eyes swing like a turbulent pendulum. Back and forth. Back and forth then back again. Like piecing together a puzzle with only dregs of conflicting information. 

Dread settles into Bakugou’s gut. God knows what Deku has told Todoroki about him. What he’s been told in return. The many stories they’ve shared. 

How do you think the stories will go, about us?  

“This is Kacchan?” Todoroki finally asks. 

Deku smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. 

Well. 

At least he has the decency to be somewhat embarrassed. Things immediately escalate from there. 

Todoroki casts a sharp pointed look across the beach, meeting Deku in a sobering stare. Understanding flickers in Deku’s eyes. They don’t say a word. But that doesn’t change the fact something is unravelling here.  

Something important. 

Whatever weird silent conversation they’re having, Bakugou would prefer to be on the same page. 

“Todoroki-kun,” Deku starts in a grave manner. “Is that - it’s him?” 

Oh gods - they’re having a secret mind-reading meeting about Bakugou. 

Judging by the heavy atmosphere, it isn’t difficult to guess why. The Overhaul shipwreck had brought out the absolute best and worst of him. Cleaved open, it laid everything bare. No guises, no evasion. 

All the fiery fragments of his soul had been cradled in his hands. 

Then before Todoroki had the opportunity to look - really look and see close enough for himself the fears and faults, decide what to do about it - Bakugou clenched his fist and squeezed. Hard. 

Todoroki nods, lips pressed together. 

That ignites a whirlwind in Deku. He spins on his heel to face Bakugou. The blur of righteous fury is the first thing that comes into focus. 

Of course. 

Always ready to meddle in other people’s business, fight battles for them even at his own expense.

Todoroki surely won’t appreciate that. Not with this. Bakugou sheathes his cutlass, tilting his chin upwards. A challenge - but not the one Deku will expect. 

If he wants to fight, then they’ll have to do it another time. Bruised pride has brought Bakugou down to his knees. Making this a contest over Todoroki’s feelings would be spitting in the face of all that aligned to get them here. 

As if drawing the same conclusion, Deku’s hardened gaze softens into something worse than sympathy. 

Knowing. 

“Oh, Kacchan… you didn’t.”

There it is again. Dismay. Disappointment. 

Like there’s something sacred here to mourn between both parties. 

“Midoriya,” Todoroki says in a strained strangled voice. “Give us a moment.” 

Beckoning the ocelot to follow, Deku scurries back to the cabin at lightning speed. Bakugou pays him or the damn cat no mind. 

Granted, Deku and his band of adversaries have made waves - their names ripple to every shoreline. But Bakugou isn’t here to pat his old childhood friend on the back and stroke egos. Not even his own. 

He’s here for one thing. 

And now the hope isn’t completely farfetched, he is at a total loss. 

A helpless rasp of a laugh escapes him. They’ve both totally scuttled this. The possibility that something is there and always has been - even now - is beyond bittersweet. 

“You fell too, huh?” Bakugou asks. 

Todoroki shrugs - it’s the furthest thing from casual. Nothing about this is fucking casual. Dancing around the words and talking in tongues only adds to the inherent weight. Only blatant evasion can withstand the perilous waters they wade. 

“Seems so. Don’t ask me why.” 

Bakugou revels at the admission, ignoring the facetious remark tacked onto the end. His heart flutters without permission and does all sorts of fancy tricks in his chest to throw him off-kilter. 

All this time - it’s been bloody mutual. 

It only took an earnest quest to the end of the world for a man and his wild cat to coax it out into the open. 

“Here.” 

Tugging the silver pendant from his neck, Bakugou outstretches his hand.

The reaction outweighs a hundred pirates finding hidden treasure. Which is no surprise considering this is one of Todoroki’s most sacred possessions. 

“I thought I’d lost it,” he breathes, eyes fixed on the pendant. 

Bakugou can’t tear his eyes away, can hardly find the cursed words. 

I thought I lost you, beautiful stupid bilge rat. 

“Yeah, well,” Bakugou snaps, fighting to keep his voice from splintering under the strain. “Now you found it.” 

Dainty yet strong hands rest against Bakugou’s, slender fingers curling them into gentle fists. The pendant presses into skin, cool silver likened to hot iron branding its mark. 

Voice hushed and dipped low, Todoroki speaks. 

“I found something else too…” 

Bakugou trembles despite himself. Get it together. Blast this. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” Todoroki gives Bakugou’s hand a firm squeeze. “Gizmo the Great.” 

And just like that, the tension melts. Bakugou bumps his head into Todoroki’s shoulder. 

This is the best kind of tragedy. 

Only Todoroki could make the world go topsy-turvy just by speaking. 

Arms brace him as he laughs. It’s warm. Safe. Almost too much to comprehend. Bakugou  nudges Todoroki once more, just because he can. 

When he looks up, the distance has closed. 

Call it gravity, call it magnetism, call it witchcraft. 

Whatever it is, Bakugou thinks it’s brilliant. Cupping that beautiful face with calloused hands, he grins. 

“What kind of cursed name is that?” 

“Better than Captain Explosion Murder Pirate King, I’m sure.” 

Well. 

There’s only one thing to do about that kind of slander. 

Best kiss it away. 

Todoroki breaks the stalemate first, diving forwards with so much urgency it’s dizzying. Their lips crash together, like the waves in an almighty storm lapping up against the side of the ship. 

The feeling can’t be bottled, can’t be contained. It fills Bakugou to the brim until the only thing he knows is this and still the yearning spills over. 

This will never be enough. They’ll be spending the rest of their days making up for their stupidity.

Bakugou can live with that. 

Todoroki’s hands climb up to his neck and god - shiver his fucking timbers. The sensation of fingers brushing across his collarbone is almost too much. Those hands move with reverence, those lips kiss with such sincerity. 

It’s bitingly tender, unfurling slowly. But the pace of this first embrace doesn’t matter. At the heart of it is searing intensity, passion that burns right into the cave of his chest and rekindles the embers there. 

This is better than any treasure. Worth more than gold. 

Bakugou can feel Todoroki smiling against his mouth, that silver tongue putting itself to good use.

Finally. 

Finally. 

His heart is singing proud, his lungs screaming for air but for the life of him Bakugou wants nothing more than to have this moment forever. 

Somewhere in the distant background, behind the ringing in his ears, is a cheery song. A concertina, a boisterous off-key chorus, a-

Wait a damn minute. 

Pulling back a fraction, Todoroki glances over Bakugou’s shoulder towards the ship. 

“What happened to sailing alone?” 

Bakugou doesn’t have to look at his asinine crew to know the profound embarrassment they are conjuring. Kaminari definitely has the spyglass to hand. Their merriment is rampant and hard to ignore - even from this distance. 

He could jump in the rowboat right now, toss them all overboard and be done with it. 

But upon his fucking life, his eyes refuse to leave Todoroki. 

The bastard seems to sense that, lips twitching as the unanswered question hangs between them. A private joke and a personal jab all at once. 

I’m my own Captain.

And I sail alone, savvy?  

Damn this man and his beautiful star-filled eyes, his taunting mouth and the pure unholy rapture of his being. 

Bakugou refuses to be rendered speechless. Not here. Not now. Not in front of his crew. And certainly not when Todoroki marooned their budding bond for the sake of a scraggly seasick cat. 

As if sensing the slander, Gizmo the ocelot bares its teeth and hisses at Bakugou. That’s fine. Because let it be known Bakugou has the tongue of a serpent, the heart of a lion and the eyes of a tiger.  

This cat stands no chance against his tremendous powers. 

“Don’t get complacent,” Todoroki says - merrily of all things. “This wasn’t just about you. Gizmo really was seasick, my heart hurt watching her suffer.” 

Christ. 

Bakugou’s head hurts hearing this tripe.

“She’ll be safe here at headquarters, Todoroki-kun!” Deku chimes brightly. 

Curses. 

Bakugou almost forgot they had spectators on two fronts. Next, they’ll be the talk of the whole sea. Deku’s meddling and the crew’s chaos combined is an outright menace. 

That’s without factoring in Todoroki himself. 

Bakugou is truly doomed. 

For all eternity. 

He knows so when the most beautiful smile known to mankind blossoms across rosy lips and it’s not even for him. Right now, Todoroki only has eyes for Deku. 

Ugh. 

“I know she will. Thank you, Midoriya.” 

“And um,” Deku holds back one of his cheekiest smiles, feigning innocence. “You can leave your ship here too. I mean - if you want??? Permanently. O-or temporarily! Of course I mean - or not at all because obviously it’s your decision ahaha. I just assumed you might, uh, be sailing together now?” 

The blasted fiddling skullard. 

Groaning, Bakugou presses his face into Todoroki’s chest. His nearest escape. Those hands are tracing quite wonderful soothing patterns through his hair. It’s a win-win situation. 

“I’m not sure,” Todoroki admits, and Bakugou doesn't have to look to know those eyes are glistening with mirth. 

“I’d hate to take the role of Captain off Bakugou’s hands.” 

Well that’s a lie. 

Todoroki would like nothing more. The feud doesn’t magically end just because they’re in love or something ridiculous. Bakugou scoffs, pettiness thrums in his veins. 

He lifts his head. 

“Heh - you think you can?” 

Todoroki hums. 

“I’d give it a week. Maybe less.” 

Unbelievable. 

A shaky grin splits over Bakugou’s face. He pulls back enough to see the mischievous expression forming on the rapscallion. 

“So what. You'll board my ship, take my cabin, enchant my crew, loot my gold, steal my goddamn blasted fool of a heart and then stage a mutiny?” 

“Something like that.” 

Todoroki’s lips twitch, amusement setting him aglow in the sunlight. He is golden. Truly. And immediately, Bakugou knows he’s in trouble. 

He’s said far too much. 

Now there’s nowhere to hide. Even Deku lets out an indignant muffled squeak on his behalf. 

“Steal your heart?” 

Fuck. 

Bakugou narrows his eyes, yanking Todoroki forwards by his fancy jacket. 

Great. Just great. 

The last thing he needs is this bastard getting cocky about it. 

“Shut your mouth!” 

Hands sliding around Bakugou’s waist, Todoroki inches closer. Until every terrible word is spoken straight into skin and still not enough. 

“Gladly. But I’d need your assistance.” 

Pressing their foreheads together, Bakugou chokes out a breathless laugh. 

“You smooth swaggling sea monkey.” 

“Well,” Todoroki drags his lips across Bakugou’s jawline, landing right at the corner of his mouth. “I did steal your heart. You said so yourself…” 

It's outrageous. But still, Bakugou yields. Todoroki reels him in - the way only he can and the chaste kiss they share is anchoring. 

No longer do they have to chase illusions, succumb to the fear of it all. The water is waiting for them and the bold brazen stories they will make together.

Curse the morbid embarrassment intimacy brings - because Sero may have been right about the whole darn thing. 

There's a place to call home on the vast sea. No matter what happens - it can never be lost.

On this voyage, Bakugou found more than he dared to ever hope for. He has a crew, a ship, an adversary now turned partner. And in this moment, Bakugou knows he has stumbled across the greatest treasure there can be to behold.

Belonging. 

Aye, forevermore - it’s a pirate’s life for him.