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Izuku wakes up chained to a wall.
Granted this is nothing new for him, not since he’d taken the Oath for All and been granted ownership of the One Sword anyway.
But usually he was a bit more banged and bruised than this. His armor is not even dented, the chains aren’t even that tight, and it’s clear from a glance that his scabbard is still fastened to his belt not because the magic of his ownership has prevented his captors from removing it, but because no one has attempted to take it at all.
Izuku frowns. If it’s not about the sword, then why—?
The door to his cell clangs open, the movement eliciting a wailing shriek as the rusty hinges make their loud protests known.
Izuku frowns harder. He slept through all that when they brought him in? Did they slip something into his stew or something?
He dismisses the thought almost as soon as it crosses his mind. There’s no way that Kacchan would have let deviations to his recipe escape his notice—
Oh fuck!
Kacchan!
He doesn’t see any sign of him, though the room does have another set of manacles on the wall.
The man approaching snags his attention away from the rest of the room, the scowl on his face one that would nearly put Kacchan’s scowls to shame. There is a fresh bruise spreading across the man’s cheek and eye, already an angry shade of red tinged with purple. Someone had hit him hard.
Kacchan?
“You are finally awake, brat. Good. You can be used to keep the hellion under control.” He unshackles Izuku from the wall and turns back toward the door, yanking Izuku along in his wake with little ceremony and no chance for Izuku to regain his footing.
The hallway they exit into is dimly lit and appears ill maintained to Izuku; there is rust and cracks in the stone all around. The dank smell of the earth mingles with the tang of rusted iron and blood.
Who even has them? And how did they manage to get both of them? Kacchan is too paranoid to be taken easily.
The sound of whimpering draws his attention and Izuku’s steps falter.
The voice sounds hurt.
The voice sounds scared.
The voice sounds… young.
The man laughs, his ill maintained armor clanking audibly with his every step. “I see you’ve discovered our other hostage.”
He stops moving and snaps his fingers.
Another door creaks open and a small child is shoved out into their path hard enough that they stumble and crash to the floor.
Izuku reflexively makes a move to help them but is brought up short by the sudden tug on the back of his chains.
“Ah ah ah, not so fast little hero.”
The child stares up at him with wet sad little eyes.
Izuku growls under his breath and strains against his chains. “What do you want?”
“Your cooperation. And your bastard buddy’s cooperation, though after that beating he should find it harder to get the jump on any of us again. You so much as twitch when I haven’t told you to move, the kid gets it. Boss’s orders.” The man’s sneer covers his face, a malignant growth that makes Izuku shudder internally. Bullies…he hates them. Especially ones with no sense of morals at all.
“Fine,” he grinds out, not wanting to give in but unwilling to risk a child’s life with any impulsive decisions. If he had Kacchan at his side, they could figure it out. He just needed to figure out how to convince them to let him see his partner. He opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by the sound of another door slamming open and a new voice echoing down the hallway.
“Does he know the terms yet?”
“He knows, and he’s met the kid too,” Izuku’s captor snarls back, looking furious at the interruption.
“Good. Bring them on in then, it's time to get Blasty on the same page with what will happen if he decides to beat on us again. Little shit doesn’t seem to care about his own pain, doesn’t learn from it.”
This is what Izuku wanted, the chance to be with Kacchan. Though dread pools in his gut at the thought of how injured the other man might be.
Luckily Izuku himself is remarkably unharmed. Kacchan tends to lose it whenever Izuku so much as skins his knee. An unlikely occurrence since taking possession of the One Sword and the practically impervious armor it comes with but still.
Speaking of which…
Izuku glances at his captor to gauge his reaction and then slowly moves his hand towards the hilt of his sword.
The man doesn’t so much as blink.
Izuku straightens, falling into a shuffling sort of step that drags and stalls as he thinks everything through.
Okay…
Okay…
So whoever captured them didn’t leave his sword because they didn’t want it… they left it because they couldn’t see it.
The realization has his breath stuttering in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest and his steps faltering once more.
There’s only one group of people that would be unable to lay eyes on the One Sword while it is still safely in its scabbard.
The League of Rogues… Worshipers of All for One.
Dabi the Cremator.
Toga the Shapeshifter.
Spinner of Communion.
Twice the Necromancer.
Compress the Human Cage.
And Shigaraki of the Violent Death.
Okay.
Okay.
No need to panic, no need to fret.
Izuku will just… keep the sword sheathed until he can get close enough to Kacchan and the child to keep them both safe.
Okay. This explains how he’d gotten captured without a scratch on him then. They must have been ambushed by Compress, and Kacchan’s legendary dodging skills must have made them do things the hard way for him.
Damn Izuku will need to apologize for so much as assuming the minute possibility of contamination in Kacchan’s cooking.
He should have known Kacchan would never miss something in his food. The man’s amount of paranoia could fill a book, and probably write a sequel.
Izuku’s breath catches in his throat as they step through the door and his eyes land on his partner. He’s bound hand and foot, and muzzled to boot. Their eyes meet, and Izuku can see the burning rage in them brighten at the sight of him. If they wanted Kacchan to be more feral, showing him Izuku like this sure is a way to do that.
He tilts his head slightly, going for subtlety, trying to assess how much damage Kacchan has taken and if Izuku can count on his help to get out of here.
Shigaraki stands before them, spreading his arms wide dramatically as he starts a pitch about reshaping the kingdom now that he has the brightest knights on his side.
Izuku only half listens, his gaze locked on Kacchan’s as he slowly moves his hand to the pommel near his hip.
Kacchan’s eyes widen and then he gives an almost imperceptible nod.
Izuku can feel the way Kacchan starts gathering his magic, and he half turns towards the child, determined to get them behind him before they truly make their move.
Shigaraki has moved on to monologuing about all the terrible things he’s going to do to their various loved ones if they try to double cross him and–
And Izuku finally spots the child, standing off to one side, watching Shigaraki’s every move.
It’s an odd look on their little face. Not quite as terror stricken as before, not half so teary or scared.
No…
It almost looks like–
“Deku you idiot!” Kacchan roars, blowing his restraints and the muzzle clean off in one ragefilled swoop. “That’s their goddamn shapeshifter!”
And well, Izuku’s always been honed to respond to Kacchan’s voice, it’s practically instinctual.
His fingers wrap around the hilt and pull the sword free in a smooth seamless swing that cuts through the very magic in the air. “Then what are we waiting for?”
He beams, as Kacchan presses up against him so they’re back to back as always, reading each other’s movements and keeping each other safe.
“Fucking nothing,” Kacchan snorts, flinging fireballs left and right like he’s a reincarnation of the actual god of war. “Let’s blow this joint.”
Izuku grins, and for once it’s feral and full of teeth as his sword easily blocks and slices through Shigaraki’s magic.
They proceed to do just that.