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Katauki hated undercover missions.
Stealth and recon were sometimes part of a hero's job, but there are some more suited to it than others. Katsuki isn't one of those. He’s loud and aggressive, and reigning that in requires a lot of willpower that’s usually more effort than it’s worth.
He also didn’t like getting dressed up all that much. But, despite all evidence to the contrary, Katsuki was a team player. Maybe not with everyone, but some people have earned his cooperation—namely, his former classmates. How could they not? Class A had been through hell together.
So when Jirou asked for his help with a case she’d been working on, he’d agreed.
The way she explained it, a foreign crime lord named Lao Shen had crossed the border into Japan to escape authorities. He’d been very careful about his criminal activities overseas, so there was hardly any evidence to extradite him—as long as he remained in Japan, heroes and law enforcement from other countries would be unable to apprehend him. Cooperation with Japan’s HPSC was arranged, and heroes were assigned to gather intel on Lao in order to get permission to arrest him. It was easier said than done, because as far as they could tell, he hadn’t done anything since he’d arrived.
Jirou was one of the best stealth heroes of Katsuki’s generation—Invisible Girl might be harder to spot, but Jirou’s quirk afforded her an offensive capability that stealthier heroes rarely had. Sonic vibrations could do a number on people’s internal systems. She could listen from a distance and gather information, but if backed into a corner she could unleash a blast powerful enough to make a person’s ears bleed. It was why she’d shot up the rankings faster than most of their classmates—excluding Katsuki and two others. But according to her, Lao’s quirk necessitated stronger backup.
“It’s a power amplifier/dampener,” she’d explained a few hours ago, while Katsuki dressed on the other side of a divider. “He can make other quirks weaker or stronger, and he can pick and choose who gets the benefits or not. So he could power up anyone on his side, and weaken any heroes who try to confront him.”
“That really doesn’t explain why you asked for me, especially if the goal is to not fight this fucker.”
“I’m a bit of a celebrity right now, remember? My face is all over billboards. We got tickets to this gala, but if I show up, he’s going to know a hero is on the scene.”
That was true. Emergency incidents happened, and no hero was going to sit on the sidelines when someone was in danger, even if it compromised another case they were working on. There had been a building collapse last week, near the agency Jirou worked at. She’d been one of the first people on the scene, and with her quirk, she’d been able to find and rescue over twenty people trapped under the rubble. It was good work, but thanks to the media’s enthusiastic praise, it also put a spotlight on her.
They’ve only been out of UA for…six months now? Even Class A’s Big Three, who were climbing the rankings faster than the rest, haven’t received that kind of attention.
Unfortunately, Shoji stuck out in a crowd, and there’s no guarantee this guy couldn’t turn off Hagakure’s invisibility if he made her. So, according to Jirou, the HSPC wanted someone who can blend into a crowd, but is powerful enough to oppose Lao even with a weakened quirk. All of class A was relatively famous thanks to Shigaraki’s defeat in their first year, but the dust had been settling on that for a few years now, and this guy was a foreigner—there was little chance Lao would be able to recognize Katsuki or his partner on sight.
Right. His partner. Jirou had been adamant he not go into this alone.
They’d arrived separately, so as to not draw attention. The gala was being held in a ritzy penthouse in Tokyo, and Katsuki couldn’t for the life of him remember what bullshit excuse Lao had used to host it. He didn’t really care.
It was a stupidly fancy affair—Katsuki had grown up with more money than most, but not for the first time he was glad that his family had never been this rich. If he had to endure this prim and proper environment for more than one night, he’d go insane. Some other guests tried to make small talk with him, which he went along with so as to not cause a scene, but he ended up excusing himself at the first opportunity. Then he’d slouch over to another corner of the ballroom—which was such an antiquated term it almost made him snort—and continued watching everyone in formal suits and dresses twirl around on the dance floor.
There were adjacent lounge rooms in the penthouse, but they were smaller, and he knew his target was here.
Lao hadn’t stopped entertaining guests all night. It was his party, and he certainly knew how to garner attention, either by dancing with people or simply talking to them. It reminded Katsuki a little of the popular crowd in those American high school movies. Except Lao wasn’t some blonde bitch—though admittedly handsome, he was in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a dark suit gave him an even more dignified air. The guests seemed to be eating up his smiles and polite conversation, but Katsuki could tell it was all fake. This was a man who didn’t care about anyone but himself. He wasn’t sure what Lao had done to make him flee to another country, but it couldn’t be good.
He plucked a glass of champagne from a passing server and leaned back against the far wall, then took a sip.
“You kinda suck at this, you know.”
Katsuki scowled into his drink. “Fuck off,” he muttered under his breath.
In his ear, Jirou snorted. “Just saying. You need to mingle, blend in. People keep coming over to you because you’re not doing anything. It makes you stand out. Find someone to talk to, or dance, or something.”
“I am not dancing.”
The HPSC had provided him with a suit, which Katsuki grudgingly admitted wasn’t bad. He’d checked the actual suit jacket as soon as possible, leaving him in a maroon dress shirt with a black waistcoat and black tie to match. It wasn’t too dissimilar from the flowery thing Kirishima had procured for the party at I-island. The dress pants fit well enough, though the shoes made his feet hurt a little. He’d deal with it.
“Well, then you should at least go talk to Lao. We need something from him. You can’t get information if you’re all the way on the other side of the room.”
Katsuki snorted. “If he’s smart enough to evade international law, then he won’t be stupid enough to start teling strangers about his crimes.”
“It’s okay, Jirou. I’ll do it.”
The second voice that filtered through the communicator in his ear made Katsuki scowl even further.
Sure enough, there was Deku—his partner in this operation—making his way toward Lao.
Katsuki had a feeling that the HPSC had also given him his suit. There was no way the nerd would dress as smartly on his own, if the pinstripe monstrosity he wore at I-island was any indicator. He’d foregone with a waistcoat, and his dress shirt was a deep green, dark enough to match his hair but make his eyes look brighter. It paired well with the black dress pants and suit jacket, which he’d kept on.
The crowd surrounding Lao had dispersed momentarily, so it was a prime opportunity to start a conversation. Still, watching Deku approach him, Katsuki suddenly had a bad feeling.
Lao noticed, and made the first move to greet him. Katsuki couldn’t hear through Deku’s communicator, but they were in plain sight, and he knew how to read lips.
“Oh, hello there. I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“No, I…I don’t usually go to these kinds of events. I don’t really fit in here.”
Deku was smart. Nervous and awkward as hell, but smart. He’d matured enough since their first year at UA to know that crafting a lie would work against him—his poker face was shit. It was far easier for him to stick to simple truths rather than some elaborate cover story. He didn’t have to hide his nervous energy, just let someone draw the wrong conclusions about it.
“Really?” Katsuki couldn’t hear the inflection in Lao’s voice, but judging by the way his lips twitched, he seemed amused. “Then what brought you to one tonight?”
“Huh,” Jirou murmured, as if she was piecing something together. “Is he…?”
“Oh, a friend invited me,” Deku replied evenly. “I’m his plus-one.”
Technically true, though Katsuki would not have phrased it that way. They did arrive separately, after all.
“And he left you alone?” Lao remarked, raising an eyebrow. Something foreign flickered in Katsuki’s chest. “That’s unfortunate.”
Deku let out a nervous little laugh, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I’ll survive!”
“Unfortunate for him, I meant,” Lao clarified. A slow smirk crept onto his face. “There’s an open bar in the next room. They have something a little stronger than champagne. Would you like a drink?”
“Holy shit.” Jirou sounded both amazed and a little amused. Katsuki didn’t share either sentiment. “That was both fast and not what I expected. Good job, Midoriya.”
Deku, in true Deku fashion, had a delayed understanding of what Lao was asking. When it dawned, he blushed so deeply his face might have been a neon red sign. “O-oh! I, um, I…well, I…guess?”
That foreign thing in Katsuki’s chest suddenly roared. In an instant, he’d pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on, and was stalking over toward Deku and Lao. He had to walk the room’s perimeter so as to not cut across the dance floor, but it hardly hampered his progress.
“Bakugou? What are you doing?”
Jirou’s inquiry was the only warning Deku got. Both he and Lao turned to face Katsuki as he approached and seized Deku’s wrist.
“He’s busy,” he growled at a surprised Lao, then started hauling Deku away.
“Kacchan!” Deku whisper-yelped, though he didn’t break out of Katsuki’s grip. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” Katsuki hissed back. He could feel some wandering eyes from the crowd on them—they had to stop this from turning into a scene.
Fuck it.
Abruptly, he changed direction and led Deku out onto the dance floor.
“What on Earth is going on?” Jirou demanded in both their ears.
“You wanted me to dance, Ears,” he muttered, transitioning his grip on Deku’s wrist to his hand. He put his other hand on Deku’s waist. “I’m dancing.”
Deku’s face had not changed from its brilliant shade of red, but he looked annoyed even as he fell into step with Katsuki, letting him lead. They were close enough that he was able to whisper, angrily, “Kacchan, what’s gotten into you? I had it handled! I was just about to—”
“You were just about to let some villain shmooze you into getting you alone,” Katsuki fired back. The music changed slightly, and all the dancing leads spun their partners with it, so he did the same. When Deku returned to him, his eyes were suspiciously bright and no less angry.
“I don’t let anyone do anything.”
Okay, that was true. Deku could probably obliterate Lao with his pinky finger if he tried anything funny. But Katsuki wasn’t about to back down.
“Still!” he protested. “He offered you a drink, what if he put something in it? We have no idea what he’s like. I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t either.”
Deku continued to stare at him as if he’d grown a second head, which Katsuki really did not appreciate. Now that they were away from Lao, the weird sensation in his chest had calmed down, leaving him acutely aware of how he’d just barged over and stolen Deku away like some kind of—
“Oh my God, you’re jealous.” Jirou sounded faintly exasperated. “Did you two really have to do this now? During my case?”
“I am not jealous!” Katsuki replied, a little louder than he’d meant to. It earned him a few looks from the other dancers.
“Kacchan,” Deku said seriously. His face had gone from red to pink. “We’re on a mission. That comes first. Right?”
Damn it. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, but he had no rebuttal. It’s the exact same argument he’d give if the situation was reversed, and Deku knew it.
“Right,” he said tersely. “Ears, now what?”
“Well, talking to him isn’t an option anymore,” she replied snootily. “Guess you’ll have to get dirt on him the old fashioned way.”
Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from yelling. “Which is?”
“Sneak around, look for anything incriminating.”
“We’ll have to wait for this song to end,” Deku said quietly. “Might have to dance for one or two more, actually, in order to let suspicion die down. Lao’s still watching us.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Looking at you, maybe.”
Whatever. If it took a few more songs for that creep to get the message, Katsuki was fine with that. Even if he didn’t necessarily want to analyze why he so strongly wanted Deku to stay away from him.
“Where did you even learn to dance?” Deku asked as they moved in an arc across the dance floor.
“The hag.”
Deku raised one eyebrow, a nonverbal request for more.
Katsuki groaned a little. “Drums weren’t the only thing she made me take lessons on.” Though he’d enjoyed those significantly more than waltzing. “Glad one of us knows how, though. You have two left feet, as usual.”
Deku narrowed his eyes a little, but didn’t deny it—Katsuki had been entirely in control of their movements and he made no effort to change that.
After that they danced in silence, letting the music take over.
Katsuki wasn’t an introspective person by nature. He usually knew what he wanted and didn’t have to do a lot of soul-searching to figure it out. But now that he’d calmed down, he could only describe his behavior as…irrational. He jeopardized both his and Deku’s cover, and ruined a perfect opportunity to get intel out of their target, all because…
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Lao. Well, he didn’t, but that wasn’t why he reacted the way he did. Deku could take care of himself, and in the event he couldn’t, he wouldn’t have been unsupervised while with Lao. Jirou was in a building across the street from the penthouse—she could use her quirk to identify where everyone was. She would have alerted Katsuki if something went wrong.
So…why did he flip out?
He was not jealous. That would be stupid.
Right?
“He’s distracted now,” Deku said, breaking Katsuki out of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed—he’d only been aware of the music so they could keep up with its changes. “He’s talking to some other people, and I think this song is over soon. Let’s go.”
Sure enough the music died down, and the two of them slipped off the dance floor before another song could start.
“Where do we go?” Deku whispered into his earpiece. “Jirou?”
“Hang on,” she replied. A moment passed, and then: “Got it. There’s a pair of doors that lead to the east wing. Go through them, and you’ll be in a hallway. Across from one of the smaller lounge rooms is an elevator. Go one floor up.”
It was easy enough—Lao didn’t have much security in place. There were some guards in the main room, but too many would look suspicious. Katsuki kept watch in the hall as Deku pried the elevator doors open. The elevator itself was nowhere in sight—probably locked down on the ground floor—so he constructed a web from Blackwhip for them to stand on inside the shaft. He shut the doors behind them, and used Float to levitate the pair of them up to the next floor. Then he pried those doors open as well, and Katsuki slipped through first to make sure the coast was clear.
“Now what?” he asked.
“There’s a door on your left. Check that out. I don’t know what’s on this floor, but it’s his residence level.”
Bakugou nodded, and tried the door. Predictably, it was locked.
“I got it,” Deku offered. Green sparks lit up around his hand and forearm as he grabbed the knob and twisted it. The lock inside shattered with a crack, and the door swung open.
It was an office, or study. There was a large bookcase against the far wall, behind a massive oak writing desk. Upon it sat a computer.
“We could just take that and go,” Deku suggested, but Katsuki shook his head.
“Don’t know if anything’s on it, and if it isn’t, then we’re breaking and entering with nothing to show for it. Let’s look around.”
The drawers in the desk were all locked, but Katsuki found a key underneath the computer’s keyboard. However, the contents of the desk were disappointing—mostly bills and identification documents, which did jack unless there was something incriminating to associate with them.
“This is a bust,” he said, shutting the desk drawers. “He wouldn’t keep anything out in the open, even if he did lock it up. We’re missing something.”
Deku hummed in response. He had his back to Katsuki, who leaned against the desk and crossed his arms.
“What? Don’t tell me he’s got poor taste in literature.”
“No.” Deku shook his head. “Most of these books are…I think they’re fake.”
To demonstrate, he reached up and tugged on a red hardcover. It didn’t budge, almost as if it had been super-glued into place.
“Yeah. Look.” Deku tugged on another one. “Why would he have a fake bookcase?”
“Maybe he just wants people to think he’s smart.”
“If there’s nothing there, go back to the party,” Jirou warned. “We don’t want him to notice your absence.”
“Copy, Ears.” Katsuki took another look at the bookcase, about to turn away—but then he stopped and squinted. “Wait.”
He stood up and approached the case, and grabbed a black book with golden Chinese characters on its spine. When he pulled, it came loose effortlessly.
Deku’s eyebrows rose. “Hm…what’s inside?”
Katsuki flipped it open, scanning the pages. His Mandarin was rusty, but… “Nothing. I think it’s some kind of self-help book. Not important. But it’s here for a reason…”
He scanned the case again, spotting three more books written in Mandarin. He pulled them all loose too. When the last one left its spot on the shelf, there was a loud ker-chunk, and a tiny compartment in the wood of the middle shelf opened.
“This guy’s seen way too many movies,” Katsuki muttered. He peered inside the compartment. “Aha!”
“You found something?” Jirou asked eagerly.
Katsuki fished out a small flash drive. “Yeah. Flash drive hidden inside a bookcase. Seems awfully suspicious to me.”
“Agreed. Now get out of there before—wait! Shit.”
Deku opened his mouth to ask what happened, but he froze, and Katsuki knew why—they could both hear the footsteps approaching the office.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice he’d slipped away—”
“No worries, Ears,” Katsuki said, a smile slipping on his face. “We got what we needed. Now—”
He didn’t have time to finish that sentence, because two things happened.
First: the knob on the door started to turn.
Second: Deku threw himself against Katsuki, shoving him into the bookcase, and smashed their mouths together.
Katsuki’s entire brain turned off even as he heard the door swing open, because what the fuck, Deku was kissing him.
It was…not terrible.
(He’s not about to tell Deku that he’s a really good kisser, okay? Shut up.)
“Ahem,” a voice said, and Deku jumped off him, whirling around to face Lao, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.
“O-oh! I’m so sorry, sir, we, uh…” Deku sheepishly looked at him, and then Katsuki. “We were just looking for someplace private.”
That deceptive little shit. It was a good ploy, really good for Deku of all people, but Katsuki would have appreciated a warning first.
He almost wanted to take back thinking Deku was an abysmal liar, but Lao’s eyes narrowed as he inspected the room. His eyes flicked to the books on the floor.
Behind his back, Katsuki’s fist tightened around the thumb drive.
Yeah, he wasn’t buying it. Deku seemed to realize this too, because his shoulders slumped.
“Oh well. We tried.”
Then green light flared up around him, and Katsuki grinned.
—
It was a laughably easy fight. Lao’s quirk did dampen the effectiveness of Explosion and One For All, but not nearly enough to make them useless. Against the two of them, he didn’t stand a chance.
Fighting indoors was always a risky gamble for Katsuki (and Deku, though he could adapt to it better, thanks to his multiple quirks). In any case, weakening Explosion meant Katsuki didn’t have to hold back as much. The walls of the penthouse got a little scorched, but the worst thing to get damaged was everyone’s evening when the party came to a screeching halt.
This was a recon mission, so there was no police force present, but Jirou had had the foresight to have the chief on standby, so when she realized they’d been caught, she made a call. Within ten minutes, police were surrounding the building and ready to intercept anyone who left. The party guests had to be detained and questioned as part of standard procedure, but no one was under any suspicion. After Katsuki and Deku detained Lao, they marched him out of the penthouse and handed him over to a police van, where Jirou was waiting. An officer took custody of him, and marched him inside the van while the three of them watched. Its door slammed shut, cutting them off from Lao’s vicious glare.
“Well, that ends that,” Jirou said. She held out a hand. Katsuki dropped the drive into her palm. “Thanks.”
“I’m going to make sure no one is hurt!” Deku announced.
That was bullshit, considering the fact that this was one of the cleanest takedowns Katsuki had ever had, but he let Deku scamper away regardless.
Katsuki had been right the first time. He was a bad liar.
“So,” Jirou said, twirling one of her earbuds. “What happened in there?”
“Nothing, fuckface.”
She ignored the insult, unfazed, and grinned. “Not buying that for a second, but have it your way.”
He glowered at her. “I will explode you.”
“Sure, sure. You didn’t ask, but if you want my advice—”
“You just said I didn’t ask—”
“—you should talk to Midoriya,” she continued. “Maybe not right now, because we’re all tired and it’s been a long night. But soon.”
Katsuki grunted and looked away from her, scanning the crowd for Deku. He was talking to another officer, apparently looking for something, anything, to do.
“Anyways,” Jirou said, punctuating the last syllable with a huge yawn. “I’m beat, and now I have data to analyze. Thanks for all your help, Bakugou—I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
She chuckled as he began to walk away—toward the nerd.
Katsuki wasn’t…talking was difficult. He was a person of action. But even he could recognize when words would be more appropriate.
A lot had happened tonight that he needed to sort out. Things he’d both never considered at all, but at the same time…he might have known all along.
“Oi,” he called. “Deku!”
Deku jumped, spinning around to face him. The officer gratefully decided to leave when she had the chance. “Kacchan!”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes, glaring at him. Deku’s eyes, in contrast, were wide and curious, though there was a bit of apprehension in them.
“Come over to my place tomorrow,” Katsuki decided. “For dinner.”
Deku blinked. The apprehension faded, looking a little more like hope. “Dinner?”
In one word, Katsuki heard the unspoken wonder. You’ve never invited me over before.
“Yes, nerd. Dinner.” He paused, then added, awkwardly, “I think we should…talk.”
Deku beamed, and damn if it wasn’t like suddenly being hit in the face by the sun.
“Sure, Kacchan. I’ll be there. Text me the time?”
He nodded, averting his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll…see you.”
“Goodnight!”
Katsuki turned and walked away, avoiding the rest of the crowd. He probably wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight, but that was fine because overall, the night had been a success. They put an international criminal behind bars, and…
Unconsciously, his fingers drifted up to touch his own lips, where Deku’s had been barely an hour ago. Then he realized what he was doing, and flushed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking.
Yeah. It was a good night.
Hopefully, tomorrow will be even better.