Fractured Wings

The room was too loud, too bright. Too Much. 

Katsuki Bakugou sat stiffly on a plush velvet couch, his small hands gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white. The scent of perfume, colognes, and the sweet scent of champagne wafted in the year. Laughter bubbled up around him, sharp and grating, like nails dragging across a chalkboard. He hated it. Hated the way the adults loomed around him, their voices booming, their smiles too wide, too fake. 

"Oh Katsuki! Look at you, so grown up!" A woman with too much makeup crouched in front of him, her red lips stretching into a grin that didn't reach her eyes. She smelled like flowers and something sour, and Katsuki recoiled, his scowl deepening. 

"What's the matter sweetie? Not enjoying the party?" she cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek. 

He jerked his head away, his teeth gritted. "Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice low but sharp, like the crack of a whip. 

The woman blinked, her smile faltering for a moment before she let out a forced laugh. "Oh my! Such a fiery little boy! Just like your mother!" 

Katsuki didn't respond. He didn't care. He just wanted to be left alone. 

The party was his mother's idea. Mitsuki Bakugou, the CEO of a thriving fashion agency, had decided to combine her annual company gala with her son's birthday celebration "Kill two birds with one stone," she'd said, her tone brisk and practical. Katsuki had protested, of course. He didn't want a party. He didn't want to be surrounded by strangers who talked down to him like he was some kind of pet, he didn't want to be around anyone. But his mother had brushed him off... as usual. 

"Stop being dramatic brat!" She'd said, rolling her eyes. "It's just a party. You'll survive." 

But he wasn't surviving. He's drowning. 

The room felt like it was closing in on him, the walls pressing closer with every passing second. The laughter, the chatter, the clinking of glasses—it all blended into a cacophony that made his head pound. His chest tightened, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He wanted to get out. 

He slid off the couch, his small frame weaving through the forest of legs and skirts. He ignored the voices calling after him, the hands reaching out to ruffle his hair or pat his back. He didn't care. He just needed to find a corner, a quiet place where he could breath. 

Finally, he spotted a narrow alcove near the staircase, partially hidden by a large potted plant. He ducked behind it, pressing his back against the wall and sliding down to the floor. The coolness of the marble seeped through his clothes, grounding him slightly. He pulled his knees to his chest, his arms wrapping around them tightly. 

For a moment, it was almost peaceful. The noise was muffled here, the light dimmer. He closed his eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. But the peace didn't last. 

"Katsuki! There you are!" 

His eyes snapped open, he saw the face of another one of his mother's employees—a man with slicked-back hair and a too-loud voice—approaching him. Katsuki's stomach churned. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to be seen. 

"What are you doing hiding back here, huh?" the man asked, his tone jovial but condescending. "Come on, your mother's looking for you. It's still your birthday, after all." 

Katsuki shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. "Go away," he muttered, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. 

The man laughed, clearly not taking him seriously. "Aw, come on, don't be like that! You're the star of the show tonight!" 

"I said GO AWAY!" Katsuki shouted, his voice cracking with the force of his emotions. 

The man blinked, taken aback, but before he could respond, Katsuki was on his feet. He shoved past him, his small body trembling with rage and panic. He didn't know where he was going. He just needed to get away. 

His vision blurred as he stumbled through the crowd, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He bumped into someone, their drink sloshing over the rim of their glass, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. 

And then it happened. 

His foot caught on the edge of a rug, and he stumbled forward, his hands flailing out to catch himself. But instead of steadying him, his fingers brushed against something cold and smooth—a glass vase perched precariously on a stool. 

Time seemed to slow as the vase tipped, teetering for a moment before crashing on to the floor. The sound was deafening, a sharp shatter that cut through the noise of the party like a knife. 

Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating. Katsuki froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the shards of glass scattered across the floor. 

And then the whispers started. 

"Oh my God, is he okay?" 

"What a mess!" 

"Did you see that? He just knocked it over!" 

Katsuki's breath hitched, his chest tightening until it felt like he couldn't breathe at all. His vision swarm, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He didn't mean to. He didn't mean to. 

"Katsuki!" 

His mother's voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. He turned to see her striding toward him, her heels clicking against the floor. Her face was a mask of anger, but there was something else in her eyes, something that made his stomach twist. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet. "Do you have any idea how expensive that vase was?" 

Katsuki flinched, his small body trembling. "I-I didn't mean to—" 

"You didn't mean to?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "You're always so damn reckless! Can't you just behave for once?" 

Her words hit him like a physical blow, and something inside him snapped. 

"I didn't want to be here in the first place!" he screamed, his voice now raw and desperate. "I never wanted this stupid party! You never listen to me!" 

Mitsuki's eyes widened, her grip on his arm tightening. For a moment, she looked almost stunned. But then her expression hardened, and she yanked him toward the staircase. 

"That's it," she said, her tone cold. "You're done." 

She dragged him up the stairs, ignoring his protests, and shoved him into a small room. 

"Stay here," she ordered, her voice firm. "I'll come get you when the party's over. And don't you dare make a sound." 

The door slammed shut, the lock clicking into place. 

Katsuki stood frozen for a moment, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with unshed tears. And then, slowly, he sank to the floor, his small body curling in on itself. 

The room was quiet. But he didn't mind. He liked it. He was finally on his own. 

*** 

(Present Time) 

The room was dark, damp, and reeked of mildew and blood. The only light came from a small lamp in the corner of the room. Bakugou Katsuki hung from the ceiling, his arms bound tightly by thick, coarse ropes that dug into his wrists. His body was a canvas of bruises and cuts and dried blood. His head hung low, his spiky blonde hair matted with sweat and grime. 

Muscular stood in front of him, his massive frame towering over the bound teenager. His muscles bulged grotesquely, veins pulsing with raw power as he cracked his knuckles. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he reared back and delivered another brutal punch to Bakugou's ribs. 

The impact echoed through the room, the sound of flesh meeting flesh followed by a sharp gasp from Bakugou. But the gasp quickly turned into a raspy, mocking laugh. Bakugou lifted his head, his lips curling into a bloody smirk. 

"That all you got, you overgrown meatball?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from dehydration. "Your punches have gotten weaker. I've had worse from my mom." 

Muscular's grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He stepped back, his fists clenching as he glared at the defiant teenager. "You've got a big mouth for someone who's tied up and bleeding." he growled. "Let's see how long you can keep it up." 

He swung again, this time aiming for Bakugou's face. The punch connected with a sickening crunch, snapping Bakugou's head to the side. Blood sprayed from his split lip, splattering across the floor. But Bakugou just laughed again, spitting out a mouthful of blood. 

"Still weak," he sneered, his voice trembling but laced with venom. "You hit like a damn toddler. What's the matter? Can't handle a kid who's tied up? Pathetic." 

Muscular's eye twitched, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed Bakugou by the collar of his ruined uniform, lifting him slightly off the ground. "You're gonna regret running that mouth brat," he snarled, his breath hot and rancid. "I'm gonna break you, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but a bloody stain on the floor." 

Bakugou smirked didn't waiver. "Do your worst, you coward," he spat. "I'm not scared of you!" 

Before Muscular could give his response with his fists, the door cracked open, and a new figure stepped into the room. Shigaraki Tomura, his pale dishevelled hair and his red eyes gleaming with a mix of boredom and malice, entered with his hands in his pockets. Behind him was someone Bakugou recognized from the description Midoriya gave the police. 

A lean sharp figure wearing dark clothing with green accents on them. Cipher. He came in with a knowing smirk. 

"Enough Muscular," Shigaraki said, his voice low and raspy. "You're wasting your energy. He's not going to break that easily." 

Muscular glared at Shigaraki but reluctantly released Bakugou, letting him swing back in his restraints "Tch. Whatever. This brats not worth my time anyway." 

Shigaraki stepped closer to Bakugou, his red eyes narrowing as he studied the battered teenager. Bakugou met his gaze head-on, his own eyes blazing with defiance despite his condition. 

"You're a tough one, I'll give you that," Shigaraki said, his tone almost conventional. "Most people would've cracked by now. But you... you're different." 

Bakugou didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he glared at Shigaraki. The villain sighed, scratching at his neck absently as he began to pace around the room. 

"You know what's so dull about this society?" Shigaraki began, his voice took a lecturing tone. "It's their love and worship for heroes like they are their God. Like they can do no wrong. But the moment a hero makes a mistake, the moment they show a bit of weakness, society turns on them. They tear them down, rip them apart, and toss them aside like garbage." 

He stopped pacing, turning to face Bakugou with a twisted smile. "And then there's people like us. Villains. Society hates us, fears us, but they can't ignore us. They call us monsters, criminals, but they don't understand. We're not the ones who built this broken system. We're just the ones that refuse to play by its rules." 

Bakugou's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, his breathing ragged as he listened. 

"Take Stain for example," Shigaraki continued, his tone almost nostalgic. "He saw the corruption in the hero system, the hypocrisy. He wanted to purge it, to create a world where only the 'true' heroes could exist. And what did society do? They labeled him a madman for exposing the trash abusing the system. They're happy with some dying, villains, but when it's who they view as they're saviours they will give boundless chances. They ignore truth. They just wanted to keep their precious heroes on their pedestals." 

He stepped closer to Bakugou, his red eyes boring into the teenagers. "And then there's Soryu. Who know's what his goal is. But ever since the Hosu games and some people seen him killing that big shark, he's been gaining a small niche fanbase as well, bigger than Stain, probably 'cause of the flair." 

Bakugou finally spoke, his voice low and dripping with contempt. "You think you're some kind of revolutionary? You're just a bunch of thugs with no purpose. You don't care about changing society. You just want to watch it all burn." 

Shigaraki's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we do want to watch it burn. But isn't that better than pretending everything's fine? Than playing along with their little game?" 

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Which brings me to you, Bakugou Katsuki. You've got potential. Real potential. You're strong, determined, and you don't take crap from anyone. You could be something great. Something more than just another cog in their broken machine." 

Bakugou's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching despite the ropes binding him. "What the hell are you getting at?" 

Shigaraki straightened, his expression serious. "I'm going to ask you this once. Join the League of Villains. Help us tear down this rotten society and build something new. Something better." 

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Bakugou laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that echoed off the walls. He lifted his head, his eyes blazing with fury, and spat a mouthful of blood directly into Shigaraki's face. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see the other villain, Cipher, place a gloved hand over his mouth hiding a deadly smirk. 

"Go to hell," he snarled. "I'm not joining your freak show. I'm going to be a hero. The number one hero. And I'm going to take down scum like you." 

Shigaraki's expression darkened, his hand twitching as he wiped the blood from his face. He stared at Bakugou for a long moment, his red eyes unreadable. Then, without warning, he lashed out, his fist connecting with Bakugou's jaw with a sickening crunch. 

Bakugou's head snapped to the side, but he didn't make a sound. Shigaraki hit him again, and again, each blow more powerful than the last, the temptation to use his quirk to obliterate the boy was there but he held back just enough. 

Finally, he grabbed a chair nearby and swung it with all his strength, the wood splintering as it connected with Bakugou's head. 

The teenager's body went limp, his head lolling forward as he lost consciousness. Shigaraki dropped the broken, his chest heaving as he stared at the unconscious form of Bakugou. 

"Toga," he said, his voice cold and detached. "Do as you please with him. Just make sure he's still breathing when you're done." 

Toga's face lit up with glee as she stepped forward, her knife glinting in the dim light. "Finally!" she squealed, her voice dripping with excitement. "I've been waiting for this!" 

Shigaraki turned and walked out of the room, Cipher following behind him. The door creaked shut, leaving Bakugou alone with Toga and the flickering light. 

***

The truck rumbled with a kick beneath my feet, the vibrations of the 18-wheeler's engine reverberating through the metal floor. I stood in the back, surrounded by rows of glass containers, each one hosting a Nomu. The dim, flickering lights overhead cast eerie shadows on their grotesque forms—hulking bodies, some had exposed brains, and eyes that stared blankly into nothingness. 

It was like being trapped in a nightmare zoo, and I was the unwilling zookeeper. 

I walked slowly between the cylinder containers, my hands in my pockets trying to look casual. My eyes scanned the Nomu. Overhaul dabbled in this madness, hadn't he? I remembered reading about the Nomu that attacked UA at the start of the school year. The news had been big, of course, it was the first big successful attack on the school. 

I hadn't actually really seen these things up close before. There were so many. And this was just in one truck. Destro had mentioned that he had been aiding the league in other transports, other locations. How many Nomu were there? How many were being moved right now, under the radar while the world went about it's business? The thought made my stomach churn. 

I glanced up at the cameras mounted in the corners of the truck. Their red lights blinked steadily, watching, recording. I couldn't afford to slip up. Not here. Not now. 

"Hey Soryu!" Twice's voice cut through the silence, loud and grating. I turned to see him leaning against one of the containers, his mask slightly askew. "You're awfully quiet back here. What's up? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just too cool? Or are you just too cool to talk to me?" 

I forced a smirk, shoving down the irritation building up in my chest. "Just admiring the scenery," I said, gesturing to the Nomu. "You ever stop to think about how weird these things are? Like, who looks at a person and goes, 'You know what this guy needs? A beak and an extra set of arms.'" 

Twice laughed, a sharp, erratic sound. "Yeah, they're freaky as hell! But hey, they get the job done, right? Plus, they don't talk back... Oh wait they dooo!" 

I rolled my eyes, playing along. I chuckled, "So, what's the deal with these things anyway? We just driving them to some secret lair, or is there a bigger plan?" 

Twice shrugged, his posture relaxed. "Beats me. I just do what I'm told. Shiggy handles the big stuff. Me? I'm just here for the ride. And the chaos. And the—" 

"Got it," I interrupted, holding up a hand. "You're here for everything." 

I honestly didn't think that Shigaraki would be giving orders for the moving around of Nomu, maybe the rest of the League members don't know that All For One is the actual leader. 

Well, he's kept himself hidden for quite a long time anyway so it wouldn't be surprising. 

"Exactly," Twice said, pointing at me like I'd just solved a complex equation. "You get it, Soryu. You really get me." 

I smirked, but my mind was racing. Twice was a chatterbox, a fool, an idiot, a dunce. If I played it right, I could get whatever information I wanted out of him. I just had to keep him talking. 

"So," I said casually. "what's the League been up to lately? The day of reckoning is almost here, less than a month." 

And it had nearly been two weeks since getting out of the crazed mind of Daigo Kiyoshi. 

Twice tilted his head, his mask shifting slightly. "You have no idea! We've been so busy, let me tell you. Like, did you know that we grabbed a kid from UA? Bakugou Katsuki? A total firecracker, that one." 

That shook me a little. Bakugou? Kidnapped? There hadn't been any news about a missing student from UA. UA must be keeping it quiet. That's bad. So much is going on, and there actually may not be enough help. 

I forced a laugh, shaking my head. "Bakugou huh? He supposed to be a new recruit?" 

Twice shrugged again. "Yeah, but I don't think that's gonna happen. But Toga's got a crush on him. Well, she's got a crush on a lot of people. But Bakugou is on her UA list." 

I raised my eyebrows, feigning amusement. "Explosive types?" 

"Oh you have no idea," Twice said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "She's got a thing for that green-haired kid too. What's his name? Midoriya? Yeah, him. And don't even get me started on that pink hero beside him, Ochaco. It's kinda creepy but also kind of cute. I don't know." 

I chuckled, but my mind went to a dark place. It was disgusting, but wouldn't many expect it coming from a villain of any kind. And there has been no word or anything about Bakugou's whereabouts for any of them to find. 

How many days has it been? 

Doesn't matter, since I'm working with the heroes and can do more where they cannot... I'll plant a tracker on Twice. 

I pushed off the container, stretching lazily. "Man, this ride's taking forever. How much longer until we get there?" 

Twice checked an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Eh, who knows? Spinner's driving, so we'll get there when we get there. Or maybe we won't! Who can say?" 

I groaned, playing up the annoyance. "Great. Just great. I'm gonna go crazy back here. Hey, you got anything to pass the time? Cards? Dice? A spare personality to argue with?" 

Twice laughed, slapping his knee. "You're funny Soryu. But nah, no cards. Just my charming company." 

I smirked, stepping closer to him. "Lucky me. Hey, you got something on your costume." I reached out brushing his shoulder like I was dusting something off. As he looked over I had already placed two pieces of paper on him, in two different locations. "There. Got it." 

I only meant to place one on him but a tugging sensation pulled at the tips of my fingers to create another where he had created a blind spot. 

Twice looked down, confused. "Huh? What was it?" 

"Just some lint—" Just as I replied I seen the first piece of paper I placed on his shoulder to blend in with the white of his costume had started floating away and... it burned. 

The smell of char instantly invaded my nose and it was so distinct it made me dizzy. Then a low cackle was heard accompanying loud aggressive footsteps. 

And then, the voice came. 

"That was a nice nap." 

It was a voice of a cockiness, a confidence that was very similar to Bakugou's back when he first got his quirk. But this was more dangerous. 

"Dabi!" Twice yelled in a celebratory tone. "I didn't even know you were in this truck." 

Neither did I. It was just Nomu, I checked every clear container. I turned around to get a look of the stranger that Twice called Dabi. 

"I wanted to surprise you with my new look now that the Doctor's finished toying with me." 

The man stunk like he was constantly burning, but he did say he just woke up, maybe it's a side-effect of his quirk. He was tall, and had dark black hair and deep turquoise eyes. I guessed that he would be in his early twenties. 

The most striking features on the guy though was most certainly the patches of gnarled, wrinkled, purple skin that covered much of his lower face and neck all the way down to his collarbone. 

"Also I was just making sure to watch the new guy." Smoke rose from him like a recently burnt out candle. 

So his quirk is fire related, and he just burned that piece of paper I had on Twice. I looked behind him to see a broken container, but it wasn't broken like smashed glass. It was more like it was melted through but the full effects were only showing itself now with the toxic smell in the room. 

The person in front of me was strong. It would be fine as long as he doesn't notice the other piece of paper that I had placed on Twice. 

But if we were to get in a fight I wondered if I would win. The man's presence somewhat reminded me of Abyss, which would be bad if he was actually as strong as him, 'cause fire was always a greater weakness for me than water. 

He stretched out his hand towards me for a shake. 

"In case you didn't hear the dummy over there. I go by Dabi." 

I stared at it for a moment longer before I took his hand and shook it also. 

"Soryu."