Chapter Text
Katsuki still hates Deku, sometimes.
He's not sure if it's a leftover effect of hero training and work or just the overflow of Deku's original nature, but the split second movement beats even Katsuki's reaction time. The man trips, body tipping, and then a growth from his head swings out at Katsuki.
Deku sticks his hand in the way.
The heat of it stings Katsuki's stomach, a fire that won't go out. Deku thinks he's a great hero, hah? But it isn't enough just to take the hit—you have to win afterwards too.
Now Deku is kneeling, not moving, while the villain holds some kind of lazer contraption to his head. And whatever he was trying to stop is about to happen to Katsuki anyway.
"Come closer," the villain says.
Katsuki steps closer, into the shadow of the alley. He eyes the villain's head, hair made of flat gray stripes, his hands, finger tense on the trigger. Katsuki could move faster than him. But he's not betting Deku's life on that.
Stripe Head tries to step backward, but he doesn't get far. Deku is too heavy to drag with one hand. Eventually, the villain gives up, allows Katsuki to get closer.
Katsuki keeps walking, no sudden movements. He's eyeing Deku too, trying to parse out the quirk effect.
Deku looks immobilized, but his hand is in a different place than it was before. With the speed of a particularly sleep deprived slug, he's reaching for the arm around his neck. Uninhibited, Deku doesn't have enough caution to move that slow.
There are other guys farther down the alley, stepping out of the shadows. If they weren't affiliated, they'd be shouting right now, calling for backup, so they're definitely other villains. But Katsuki can't give them more than his peripheral.
A hair stripe darts out and strikes Katsuki in the shoulder.
Immediately, Katsuki's body slows to a painful crawl. The world isn't running faster—he can still think in real time—but his limbs lag like a browser with five thousand open tabs.
Stripe Head's shoulders relax. He lets go of Deku, straightens, and turns to his friends.
"Um," the nearest one says, pointing at Katsuki. He's bulky, more muscle than fat, and his hair flops down in a bowl cut. "Isn't that…"
With dawning horror, stripe head looks back at Katsuki, seems to really see him for the first time.
"We can't take him," the third goon says. He's a little taller, a little thinner, but his skin is covered in interlocking plates, some kind of natural armor, "We only need one."
Stripe head takes a breath, and his face sets, accepting the situation. "Do you want me to release him?"
"Yes," Bowl Cut says, "After we've run away."
"They've seen our faces," Stripe Head says, gesturing to the two of them, "That's not a risk I want to take. And this one is quirkless, anyway."
"Risk?" Dry Skin blurts. Then he laughs, dry and humorless, "Sure, let's kidnap Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight then. That's the safe thing. We're totally equipped to—"
"Watch out!" Bowl Cut shouts.
While these idiots spoke, Katsuki was moving his hand, and now he's ready to spark off his quirk. There's a sort of tension that builds, slower than it ever has, like water about to boil over.
Supernaturally fast, Stripe Head grabs Katsuki's arm, pulls him forward, off balance, and sets his palm down on Deku's face.
Katsuki drops his quirk. It isn't enough—there's still the shadow of it, a spark to sear Deku's skin.
Deku winces in slow motion, too late to do any good.
"Okay," Bowl Cut says, tapping his chin, "We can work with this."
Scene Break
Katsuki sits in the back seat of the van, leaning forward, arms extended. In the middle row, Dry Skin reaches over to hold Katsuki's palms steady, keep them centered over Deku's temples. Every so often, he also has to pull Deku's hand away from the door.
Stripe Hair sits in the back, beside Katsuki, looking bored. Bowl Cut is driving, singing the same section of a pop song over and over under his breath. This budget kidnapping would be an insult if it wasn't working so well. Katsuki doesn't know whether he's angry or afraid.
No, that's dumb. He's definitely angry.
He's so focused on trying to remember where they're going, on the rage boiling up inside, that he almost misses it. Slowly, precisely, Deku is clenching and unclenching his jaw.
Katsuki has never encountered such a lethargic string of Wabun, but he does his best to clear a portion of his mind, start puzzling it out. By the time Deku stops, he's been rewarded with ntcome.
Don't come, Deku.
Katsuki nearly barks out a laugh—the last thing he needs right now is to sound like a broken tape recording. Is Deku, chronically sincere, trying to joke? Or is it a real warning, given—like everything else they try—too late to count?
Scene Break
As soon as they get to the dock warehouse, it becomes even more obvious that the villains weren't prepared to contain Katsuki. Sure, they have basic restraints for quirks that activate from the hand, thick metal encircling boxes with wrist openings on either end, but Katsuki could blow them all to pieces from inside. It would be easy.
By the time Stripe Hair drops his quirk, Katsuki and Deku are sitting back to back, bound to chairs. Katsuki has each hand in a different container, arms pulled behind to reach. Because Deku's hands are slotted in the other ends.
Katsuki could blow them up, easy, if he wants to take off Deku's fingers.
With the luck they're having, Katsuki expects the villains to immediately launch into some set of impossible demands. Instead, Stripe Hair takes a seat nearby, and the other two retrieve snacks from a side room. They all seem ready to wait.
Objectively, this is good. It buys them time, and time is in their favor. Someone will eventually notice that they're gone, and even though the villains dumped their phones back in that first alley, Deku has a tracker in his shoe. But Katsuki started his day off planning to hang out with Deku, excited to absolutely decimate him in every game the arcade owned. He isn't adjusting well to the change in schedule.
Even worse, Deku is muttering under his breath. Katsuki has grown enough to admit that Deku's analysis is almost always useful, but he's not actually speaking loud enough to be understood. It has the same effect as a florescent light, a constant and obnoxious noise so quiet it can drive you nuts before you even notice it.
In front of him, Dry Skin is struggling to open a bag of chips, the plastic crackling over and over in his hands.
Katsuki's eye twitches.
Suddenly, Deku starts tapping his finger against Katsuki's palm. This time, Katsuki is ready, doesn't miss a single kana.
Deku spells out Chronostasis. Katsuki has no idea what that means.
Behind them, a door opens, and a fourth person walks in. Katsuki can't quite turn his head enough to look, not without being obvious.
Bowl Cut slowly gets up, puts his snack down, and walks over to greet the newcomer.
After a moment, the foreign footsteps stop, and a gravely voice says, "There's two."
"It's more efficient," Bowl Cut says, "Saves us from going out again later."
"Never mind," Gravel goes on, "I don't care. Which one first?"
"This one!" Dry Skin insists, mouth half-full of chips. He points at Katsuki.
Gravel steps closer, slow and sure. He stops before he reaches Katsuki, backs up a little. "Is that—that's Deku."
"Nice to meet you," Deku says.
"Of all people," Gravel says, "You could have grabbed any random—"
"Hey," Stripe Hair says, voice firm, "We'll do our job, you do yours."
"I need to make a call," Gravel says.
Katsuki listens intently as Gravel turns and leaves the way he came. There's the snap of a door shutting.
"This is your fault," Dry Skin tells Stripe Hair.
Stripe Hair doesn't contradict him, just leans forward and sets his head in his hands. Katsuki will gloat over the man's stupidity later, once he and Deku have escaped.
"Not to be a bother," Deku says, almost laughing, "But are you guys in trouble?"
"Shut up," Bowl Cut says.
Deku twists in his seat, arm tugging on one of the hand restraints. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make light of your situation! I was just thinking, before your boss comes back in, maybe we could work out some kind of an agreement?"
"You're in no position to bargain," Bowl Cut says.
Katsuki carefully schools his face. He's ticked off, and he's not great with people on good days. If Deku thinks he can get these mooks to spill something, then Katsuki isn't about to get in his way.
"That's true," Deku says, shrugging, "But I'm also the perfect person to vent at, since you aren't expecting me to live that long. What's your name?"
"Nice try," Bowl Cut says, and walks away.
It wasn't a denial, which does nothing to rebut Katsuki's similar suspicion. They haven't been blindfolded, the villains discuss their plan's openly, and Stripe Hair's reason for following through was to keep Katsuki from chasing him down. If he and Deku are supposed to be released later, that would only make the problem worse.
The door opens again, and someone walks back into the room. "Okay," Gravel says, like he can't quite figure out how he got stuck surrounded by idiots, "We're to proceed as normal. You're sure that you don't want me to start with Deku?"
"We're sure," Stripe Hair says.
Gravel walks forward and around the chairs to face Katsuki. He's got no visible sign of a quirk, but he's dressed business casual, like he isn't prepared to fight. The minute he sees Katsuki's face he busts out laughing.
"Are you serious?" Gravel finally manages. He wipes his eyes, staggering forward. "Tell you what—I'll do you guys a favor." Then he sets a hand down on Katsuki's head.
Katsuki yanks his head away, knocking it off. Already, he can tell he was too late. The constant ache, the buzz of nerves in his right arm doubles, copies over to his left.
Gravel steps back, dusting off his hands. "There, that should incapacitate Deku too. You're welcome."
That's what makes it click. It's not a pain increasing quirk—the sensation isn't evenly distributed. No, this is Deku's chronic pain, mirrored onto his arms, sitting on top of his own. Gravel must have tapped Deku too while Katsuki moved his head.
In front of him, Dry Skin leans over, reaching behind a pillar, and stands up holding a bat. Instantly, Katsuki knows exactly where this is going.
"Contact me when you have the next one," Gravel says, already out of sight.
Katsuki isn't paying the attention that he should. Deku is facing the other way, where he can't see Dry Skin. He might not have figured it out. Katsuki should say something, but he doesn't have a plan. And Deku is going to hate this.
Dry Skin sets his feet, winds the bat back with both arms. Then he cracks Katsuki across the face.
Deku gasps. Between the pain and the sound, there's no way he doesn't know now.
Dry Skin swings again, this time at Katsuki's shoulder. There's something sure about his movements, like he's done this before, like he's practiced enough to keep going for a while.
The worst thing isn't that this will hurt Deku too—it's that he'll know what Katsuki feels. He'll have to sit there, helpless, and Katsuki won't be able to mitigate, play things off.
Katsuki can't accept that. He won't.
Dry Skin keeps beating him anyway.
Suddenly, Deku is tapping Katsuki's hand again. It's all Katsuki can do to keep the kana clear between hits, but he's no quitter. He's strong enough. He gets the message.
Blow up.
Katsuki grits his teeth and taps back a message of his own. Die.
Deku's immediate response is, I won't.
The sound Katsuki makes probably seems like it was caused by the bat, but it turns out that Deku is more obnoxious than literal torture.
When Katsuki doesn't respond, Deku keeps going. Still teach.
Fine. Katsuki can clarify. Hope you die.
Deku laughs, but the sound is wet. Then he says, "Coward." Out loud.
The thing is, Katsuki can imagine a scenario where blasting Deku's hands off is actually the kind thing, and right now they aren't that far from it. These guys want to kill them. Deku would rather be handless than die.
The Katsuki from five years ago would have already done it. But Katsuki isn't that guy, hasn't been for a while.
He isn't going to let Deku die either—no, this is Katsuki insisting on perfect victory again. He's escaping with all of Deku, appendages included.
He just needs to figure out how.