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Katsuki doesn't often feel fear. After their first two years at UA, after Shigaraki and All for One and kidnappings and villains - and not the average ones, not the ones that take a simple hand on the shoulder to stop, a simple move without breaking a sweat, but the ones that threaten civilization and society on a sort of global scale that feels surreal - there wasn't much that scared Katsuki.
Not anymore.
So when his agency decides to partner not with one, not with two, but with three other agencies, and one of them includes the Number One Hero? And they send Deku?
Katsuki walks into the briefing room with a sense of tense calm, ready for whatever may be revealed but not too worried about failure. It's a sentiment only shared by the man at his shoulder, him and his firm expression that, really, only help make his cheeks puff out more, freckles compressing until he looks much like the bunny his fans claim him to be. Even when serious, he still manages to seem so 'kid-friendly.'
(Katsuki used to hate it. Used to bug Deku about it, until one mission where kids had been involved and there was fire and villains and the kids were screaming and crying and it was him and Deku and some other no-name. And while their costumes were torn up and they were tired, Deku got the kids to calm down.)
But kid-friendly? Deku? Sure, in public, but in private? Every time they hang out, it always gives him a good laugh, watching the most well-loved hero get absolutely wasted and crack dark jokes that only someone with a poor mental health would agree with (and sometimes Katsuki scolds him. Sometimes he warns that he's going a bit too far, asks if he's okay, confronts him when he's sober and brings tea and katsudon. And then sometimes Katsuki laughs too, the sort of caught off-guard laugh that leaves him breathless and wheezing, a white-knuckled grip on those broad, broad shoulders.)
Uravity's there, as is Deku, of course, but it's the third agency that has Katsuki on edge the second he sees who they've sent. It's an American hero - and doesn't that just tell them how deep they are with this case - and one he's worked with before.
She's... she has her nose in the air, as Deku would try and politely say. An overabundance of confidence and the... American 'charm.' To which means she thinks she's better than everyone else and practically shoves it in their faces while smiling and pretending that she's being nice. It's the sort of passive-aggressive shit that Katsuki refuses to put up with.
The only person that tries to get along with her is Deku, of course, and he's quick to send her a big smile and a wave, throwing an English Nice to see you! at her, sounding as if he really is happy to see Bronzer (and isn't that a type of makeup? What kind of hero name-)
Honestly, being able to turn into a statue when she stands still isn't even that good of a quirk.
(Deku, of course, thinks otherwise, but he'd find value in being able to turn into a stapler.)
Katsuki gave her a chance, and then in their first meeting a year or so back, when Deku had first offered her an English greeting, she'd corrected him. Looked Deku straight in the eye and said Actually, it's-
It was bullshit is what it was, humiliating (more for her than Deku, but he wasn't going to say anything) since Katsuki knows Deku's been fluent in English since he was a kid. Had to be to watch all the American footage of All Might, after all. So, she had clearly been trying to seem holier-than-thou to Japan's Number One Hero and Sweetheart.
Katsuki decided that she was a piece of shit. He'd told his agency that he would not work with her again, which meant that this was a matter that went beyond personal grudges if they'd gone against that. After all, it wasn't smart to anger the Number Two Hero.
But, against all odds, the meeting was going fine. It's a trafficking ring, and international one that had multiple bases in America - hence Bronzer's participation - and Japan, with very few elsewhere. It focused on finding parents with interesting quirks, keeping tabs on them, and deciding if the child's quirk was worth taking.
Sometimes, they'd kill the parents, two birds with one stone, and the kid would disappear without a trace.
"The kids typically disappear from the crime scene, never even making it to an orphanage or foster home before they're taken," Uravity says, standing up front as she passes out papers. They're silent, diligent, and Katsuki watches from the corner of his eye as Deku hunches over his paper and digests the information in seconds, eyes scanning the page in its entirety.
He's turning the page by the time Uravity says her next thing, and she shoots him a small, unseen smile.
Deku's been known to do that, and while at first people tried calling him out for not paying attention because there's more than what's on the paper, Deku, he'd always look up, meet their gaze, and recite, word-for-word, the last thing they'd said. In any other situation, he might have blushed and blubbered and set the paper down, sheepish and embarrassed.
But Pro Hero Deku in a debrief?
He's confident and sure and cares too much to worry about niceties (honestly, Katsuki misses seeing people call Deku out. It was fun to see the looks on their faces as Deku would stare at them, wait, and then go back to the paper.) People too often made the mistake of thinking that the green hero was all muscle, was just there to catch a fallen building and be the well-loved face of an operation in the inevitable fallout.
They always learned their lesson when he rivaled their information gathering with his keen intelligence.
"From what we've seen, their preferred method of travel has been by boat, which gives us a few opportunities if they stop for fuel at an island, but they're careful and are constantly changing what sort of boats they use and the times they leave the docks."
When Deku pops his head up, Katsuki has to bite back a smirk.
Uravity doesn't fully stop her sigh.
"Um-"
"Yes, Deku?" Her tone's light but they'd spoken at the same time, exasperation clear as she sighs (oh, Katsuki's totally going to be making fun of Deku about this for a while.) For now, he offers her a sheepish smile before it's all business. After all, the only reason Deku would look up from his paper would be to ask a question. From the look in Uravity's eye, she knows she probably won't have the right answer (no one ever really does, although Katsuki has every now and then and it's honestly an achievement to glare at the green hero with an I was getting to that!)
"Have we looked into the orphanages?"
Uravity blinks.
"Well, they never reach them, so, no, I don't believe so."
Deku blinks.
"We should do that," he says, intertwining his fingers on the table as he tilts his head down, eyes flicking to the paper before finding the Gravity Hero again. "There are many children stuck in orphanages and foster homes because of their quirks, so while these traffickers seem to be focusing on the parents and taking kids once the quirks combine how they'd like, those are just the cases that people would care to report. If there's an interesting quirk in a child that's already parentless, they'd be far easier to take, especially if it's an unwanted quirk and no one would care for what might happen to the child after. We should check those places out, see if there are any connections between the people we know are involved and potential under-the-carpet adoptions. I'd like to say we should stake out around the orphanages but that'd be difficult to organize, so perhaps we should look into what sort of quirks the kids there have and hunker down where we know the traffickers would look. Then there'd be the issue of the foster homes, and that-"
"Yeah, but those would mostly be villainous quirks."
The sentence makes Deku come to a quick, calm stop. The sort of thing where he takes a slow breath that raises his broad shoulders slowly, too slow to track but too large to miss, and he holds it there for a few seconds.
One... two... three... and they lower, almost gracefully. It's the sort of response that draws everyone's eyes and steals their breaths, the entire room at the edge of their seats until their hearts are thudding in their ears
But Katsuki's sitting right beside him and he knows.
He knows from the way that Deku's hand twitches, the way his head tilts a little to the left, how his jaw flexes and he oh-so slowly turns to look at Bronzer.
His jaw twitches again, forced to keep steady and calm. Forced but trembling.
She's not even looking at him, not until she's set the packet down - still on the first page - and slowly scans everyone else before stopping on him.
And then, as if she were blind or too keenly aware, either of which doesn't really matter anymore, she has the gall to open those too-glossy, bubblegum pink lips, tilted in a snobbish smirk, and ask:
"What?" All attitude, daring the precious Number One Hero to contradict her as if what she'd said was law. Was too true to argue.
A few heroes stand, bodies tense and fists trembling. Uravity's one of them, jaw twitching as she glares at Bronzer, but before she can get a word out, she tastes ozone on her tongue and then a shock of green brightens her peripheral, hair standing up as lightning jumps across the table for a short moment.
The loud clap of skin on skin catches their attention and Uravity's head almost snaps to find-
Bakugo, his hand firm around Deku's bicep, knuckles white and a vein prominent on his forearm.
"Out. Now," he growls.
Bronzer sputters at that, eyes wide and mouth open in self-justification, aghast at the disrespect, how dare you!
Uravity looks, from Bakugo's hand to Deku's arm, following jumping muscles until she finds an indent in the table, five long lines for each tense finger, and she goes pale. Because Dynamight I'll-kill-you Katsuki Bakugo looks polite beside the simmering rage of Deku. Beside that mass of tense muscle and unmoving expression.
The static of another bout of lightning makes Bronzer growl.
"This is as much my-"
Deku twitches. Hard. A spasm when his fist raises before Bakugo's slamming it back into the table, the sound deafening with the force of it, the surface caving beneath the pressure.
"Deku-" Bakugo hisses, fingers tightening bruisingly, his arm shaking from the effort as Deku shifts, and Uravity lets out a trembled exhale as she finally looks at Deku.
At radioactive eyes, that supernova that he only ever unleashes when he really needs to. At tense muscles and a face dark with rage.
She's tempted to go running herself, sweat flashing cold at the sight of such anger on such a kind person. Her throat's tight and she flicks to see whatever state Bronzer might be in, and while she'd spat such blasphemy and there's no one in the room that doesn't want to hit her or set her straight, it's different when the angriest one is Deku.
Deku always tries to stay calm, controlled, because if he's in his right mind, no one would dare step out of line. He could probably handle all of them in the room if he wanted to. Because he knows - they all know - that all of them together might not be able to handle him.
"Say that again." Deku's eye flashes as he seethes, words hissed from between clenched teeth.
"Deku, I've got this." Dynamight practically whispers the words but the room's too tense, too quiet and they all hear it. Uncharacteristically soft, uncharacteristically gentle.
Deku's fists clench tight at that, eyes snapping to find his friend's calm gaze, bright with fury as he almost snarls at Dynamight.
For a moment, it almost looks like the two are about to go at it in the conference room.
Then, with a twitching sneer and a spasming eye, Deku slowly turns back to Bronzer.
Her face is pale with fear, breaths shallow as she meets that terrifying gaze.
"You have three seconds."
Deku doesn't need to say what for. He doesn't need to say what that means. He doesn't even need to count.
Bronzer's fleeing before Bakugo gets to one, ready to count and knowing full well that Deku won't give her the full amount. Chairs practically get thrown in her wake and people are more than willing to push her out, the door flung and left open, slamming against the wall and shaking on its hinges in her wake.
The boom of the door echoes in the suddenly silent room.
They stay like that, for a moment, breaths stolen and eyes wandering to anywhere but Deku.
"Out."
Dynamight hardly gets through the word before the room's empty, chairs left spinning in their wake, more papers falling to the floor and cups left forgotten.
No one's quite sure what happened after Dynamight drew the blinds. All they know is that, until all sight was covered, Deku didn't move an inch. Just sat, stiff and tense until Dynamight gently shut the door.
Once it clicked shut, they do know that there was noise. A lot of it. The sound of something splintering, something crashing against the wall, another boom which shook the building.
When they finally returned the next day, they had to take a different room and Deku had begun the presentation.
He was calm. Too calm. Bounced back a bit too well for how angry he'd been. And he'd practically done the whole debrief on his own, having spent the entire night going through orphanages and foster homes and finding ones with 'desirable' quirks.
(Sitting near him with a total of three cups of coffee between the two chairs, is Dynamight. And if any of them notice the bags under his eyes and the lack of tension in his frame, they don't mention it.
They also don't ask about the bruise blossoming on Dynamight's jaw nor the one on Deku's cheek.
All Dynmight says when they ask is: You didn't want to see Deku commit murder and neither did I. If you know what's good for you, don't mention it.
They don't.)
