Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Katsuki wakes up to a pounding headache and his body aching all over. Which in and off itself isn’t too unusual, nor something he can’t handle. He’s been banged up before. More than once. It was part of being a pro, after all.

This situation is different, though. It’s different because there’s no annoying beeping of the heart monitor next to him. There’s no Shitty Hair, Soy Sauce, Dunce Face or Crappy Alien (or, fuck forbid, all four of them at once) talking over each other in what is undoubtedly a shitty attempt to wake him up. There’s no fretting Deku asking him if he’s really alright and scolding him for being reckless like the hypocrite he is. There’s no familiar but annoying scents of a hospital nor the familiar and comforting scent and general ambience of his and Deku’s apartment.

In fact, he’s not even in a bed, he realizes belatedly. He’s chained to a wall by his wrists, hanging limply until his brain catches on to the position and he actually supports his weight on his own and stands to alleviate the strain on his arms.

Yeah, something is definitely fishy here.

Where is he? And how the fuck did he get here?

The last thing he remembers is responding to a distress call about a villain using his Quirk to make an entire fucking building collapse straight in the middle of the city. Katsuki has been the first on the scene and the absolute carnage and disaster still made him seethe. The part of the building remaining had a diagonal cut straight through the concrete walls as if it had been cut by an impossibly sharp blade or something. The rest of the building toppled as a result and collapsed onto the busy street and shattered upon contact, the rubble smashing into the other buildings, cars parked or driving on the street and civilians alike. Katsuki had arrived to the sight of the rubble and settling dust, the concrete coated in blood in more places than one. He arrived to the sight of crushed bodies and puddles of blood and guts dripping from between the rubble. The place was eerily quiet, though. Not a single civilian had been screaming.

Katsuki shudders at the thought that it was likely because no civilian remained alive in the vicinity. Or if they were alive, then they weren’t conscious and thus couldn’t scream anyway.

The only person other than Katsuki present had been the villain. The blond remembers seeing him, remembers the sick, satisfied smile on his face, remembers the rage that overcame him in response, remembers launching himself towards the motherfucker with a battle cry…

And next thing he knows, he’s waking up here. Wherever here was.

Going at it logically, Katsuki knows he must have been captured by the villain responsible. For some reason. It’s the only thing that makes sense considering the asshole that cut down the building in the first place and the fact that Katsuki doesn’t remember anything past charging into battle against said asshole.

That and, well, the way he woke up kind of gives it away, since he’s chained to a wall and all.

That doesn’t tell him who thought they could get away with trying to capture the current number 10 pro hero Ground Zero, though. Nor the reason for the attempt.

Still, considering no one has reacted to the way Katsuki is now standing rather than hanging from his chains, it’s probably safe to assume no one is watching him right now. Which, if it proves to be correct, the villains will quickly learn is a mistake. As is attempting to capture Ground Zero, of all heroes.

Carefully opening one eye just a smidge to make sure he’s alone, Katsuki quickly finds himself blinking instead to try and see his surroundings. In vain. The room he’s in proves to be pitch black to the point that he hardly sees a difference between when his eyes are open and when they’re not.

Well, that’s nothing he can’t handle. A few pops of his quirk should give him enough light to just get an idea of where he is. It will alert the villains he’s awake, sure, but then again, he would have alerted them at some point while breaking free, anyway.

Plan decided on, Katsuki braces himself for the sudden intrusion of light and activates Explosion just enough for his hands to produce small, crackling pops similar to when he was a child. Or he tries to. Except nothing happens. Not even a spark appears in his hands. Frowning, Katsuki clenches his fists. The room is warm and he can feel his palms sweating, so that’s not the issue. Clenching his teeth, he tries again.

Still nothing.

“I wouldn’t bother, if I were you. Those cuffs around your wrists are the very same quirk-negating cuffs you heroes are so fond of,” a low voice speaks suddenly from the darkness and Katsuki freezes, every cell in his body on high alert as he tries to locate its source. But that proves a tad difficult when he can’t even see what’s right in front of his face. Still, he doesn’t allow himself to be intimidated and snorts.

“What, too scared to face me fair and square?” He taunts. From experience, most villains rise to such things easily enough, hating to be even implied to be as far below Katsuki’s skill as they actually are.

But this villain is clearly not one of them, because he simply chuckles.

“No, Ground Zero, not scared. Smart. I’m not foolish enough to think I could defeat you in a physical fight. You are one of the physically strongest heroes of your generation, after all. And as monstrous as you can be, your ability to defeat your opponents quickly and efficiently, an ability born from that raw strength, is a heroic quality you actually possess. Shame it’s the only one. Even bigger shame that it’s wasted on someone like you,” he says and it’s Katsuki’s turn to bristle at the unspoken implications.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?” he asks aggressively, pulling fruitlessly at the chains binding him. The moment he gets out of those restraints he’ll show the bastard…

“I think you know,” the villain replies evasively. “And soon, the entire populace of Japan will know, too.”

The supposed threat only confuses Katsuki more, but the blonde doesn’t get the chance to try and ask what the fucker meant because right as he finished speaking, there was a definite sound of a steel door slamming shut reverberating through the (apparently rather small) room. The villain left. Katsuki is alone.

~The Absolute Truth~

It quickly becomes obvious that keeping track of time is going to be an impossibility. Katsuki doesn’t know how long he’s been out or how long he’s been awake. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the villain left. He doesn’t even know what time of day (or night) it is or if it’s still the same day. What he does know is that he needs to get free and get out of here, preferably with the motherfucker who thought it was a good idea to chain him to a wall tied up on his back. Because while Katsuki knows that his coworkers and fellow heroes (his friends, though he wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of them as such), and particularly Deku, will definitely stop at nothing to find him and save his ass, he also knows that he doesn’t fucking need it. He’ll get out of this on his own.

Or that’s what he tells himself, but his attempts to get free have yet to yield results. The shackles effectively render him unable to use his Quirk and the chains are far more sturdy than he gave them credit for, making the first (and imperative) step of freeing his arms so he could get out of there far harder than it needed to be.

In fact, all he got for his attempts were raw wrists and sweat rolling down his face. Although really, it’s surprising that he’s sweating so much. As hard as he’s trying to yank the chains out of the wall, he’s not exerting himself that much. He knows he’ll need his strength and stamina to beat up the asshats who locked him up here, after all.

It takes him a moment to realize it’s not his attempts to break free that are the reason, it’s the temperature. Because the room is steadily growing hotter, little by little.

Clenching his teeth again, Katsuki focuses on his quirk again. If he could be certain it would go off, he knows it would be an idiotic idea. That with how sweaty he’s getting, setting off his quirk is asking for an explosion far beyond his control. But these aren’t normal circumstances and Katsuki doesn’t intend to hold back just to ‘play it safe’. From personal experience, he knows there is no such thing as ‘playing it safe’ when caught by villains.

Still, no matter how much he wills it, nothing happens. His quirk remains inactive, silent. He might as well be quirkless.

He tries to get out of the chains again. Honestly, it’s all he can do at the moment. And he’ll manage.

He certainly won’t let a little heat get to him.

~The Absolute Truth~

The heat is getting to him.

He’s not sure if it’s been minutes or hours, but since he first noticed the temperature in the room rising, it’s become unbearable. Enough so that he’s no longer trying to get free. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t.

His body isn’t listening to him. He’s coated in sweat and his clothes feel drenched with it, sticking to him like second skin. His head is pounding. His heart is racing. His breath is short and labored. He knows he should try to control it, to breathe slowly because he’s already starting to feel lightheaded and nauseous, but he can’t force his body to cooperate.

The fact that his throat only seems to dry up more with every passing moment, with his every breath even, isn’t helping, either.

He almost misses the sound of the door opening, which is concerning considering there’s nothing to disguise it except his own labored breathing. Still, he hears it and slowly raises his head to glare at whoever came to him. Not that he can see them because the room is still pitch black.

“Show yourself, asshole,” he says, a small part of his brain that is still fully lucid noticing the fact that he’s fucking slurring like a drunkard. That same part of his brain calls that he should be outraged and angry that he allowed himself to be brought to this point, but he hardly notices.

“I’m right in front of you. I can hardly ‘show myself’ any more than I’m already doing,” is the amused answer he receives and Katsuki bristles. Before he can answer, something touches his cheek – the villain’s hand, most likely – and that small part of his brain yells at him again to pull away in disgust.

Instead, he leans into the touch, though not without hating himself for it. The hand against his skin is pleasantly cool, even cold, and he has to admit that it feels good on his overheated skin. The villain hums pensively but the blond ignores the sound or its potential meaning.

“Sure you could. You could stop hiding in the goddamn darkness and let me see your bastardy face, fucker,” Katsuki slurs back. Again, the only reply he gets is an amused chuckle. That and the hand on his face retreats, taking the pleasant coolness with it. Ground Zero does not fight the urge to whine at the loss. He does not.

“I’m afraid that’s not my call to make, Ground Zero. But be patient. All in due time. First, we need to take care of this heatstroke of yours. Wouldn’t want you to croak before we get to the interesting part, now would we?”

“Fuck you,” is the blonde’s eloquent, slurred reply. Katsuki’s brain is too muddled to realize the implication of those words. He’s too out of it to really catch on to the fact that there was an ‘interesting part’ to this, that the villains haven’t even gotten to do with him whatever they planned to do with him. He’s too out of it to try and find out what their plans might be, too.

He hears footsteps moving away from him and a short while later, he’s drenched in ice-cold water. The thermal shock is more than his body can handle. Katsuki passes out before he can hear the door slam shut again.

~The Absolute Truth~

The next time he comes to, he hears the sound of chains rattling. For a moment, he thinks there’s someone else in the room with him, another captive, but it’s not the case. The chains he hears are his own, rattled by his shivering.

The room that was unbearably hot the last time he was awake is now cold. Maybe not freezing, not yet, but definitely cold. The fact that Katsuki’s clothes are still drenched isn’t helping matters either.

Glaring into the darkness, the blonde pulls on his restraints again in another futile attempt to get free. His raw wrists flare with unexpected agony in response and he hisses, the sound hurting his dry throat. The cold air sends a feeling of needles prickling his insides and the sensation makes him cough, which only worsens the pain in his throat. He tries to swallow down some of his own saliva to ease the feeling, but his mouth feels just as dry as his throat. Even his tongue feels like it’s shriveling up with lack of moisture.

Dehydration must be setting in then, though it’s not quite severe enough to be life-threatening yet, since he can still think clearly. He does feel weakened, though.

Just how long had he been here?

“Ah, I see you’re finally awake, Ground Zero. Good. That means we can finally get down to business,” a familiar voice speaks from a few paces in front of him and Katsuki glares into the darkness. “Sakushi, if you could be so kind.”

“I don’ see why we can’t keep ’im thinkin’ ’e is in some dark, underground dungeon, but whatev’r,” another voice replies. Katsuki hears someone snapping his fingers and suddenly, as if a switch was flipped, the darkness is gone and his eyes are assaulted by the dimmed light of burning candles. He shuts his eyes on instinct and then blinks blearily a few times as his eyes adjust to the change in lighting.

Despite what the other shitty villain said, the room turns out to still fit the general description of ‘some dark, underground dungeon’. The floor, walls and ceiling are all made of stone. The door on the other end of the room, the only visible exit, is made out of steel just as Katsuki suspected. There’s little in terms of furniture there, though Katsuki spies one or two cabinets, one of which is slightly ajar and reveals quite the assortment of beverages. So a wine cellar or something, if one disregards the obviously uncommon steel door. That narrows down the possibilities of where he’s been taken to a bit.

“Come now, Sakushi, you know that is not how we operate. We want the people watching to have no doubts he’s not under influence or anything, after all, and your illusions tend to make people look as if they’re high,” the first villain says again with a chuckle. He’s a middle aged man, maybe around Aizawa’s age, with long silver hair and eyes black as coal. He’s wearing black trousers and a dark blue button-up shirt with matching gloves, a somewhat stylish black trench coat completing the ensemble. He also wears a belt with small flacons the contents of which Katsuki can’t even begin to guess, but he’s pretty certain they’re somehow connected to the asshole’s quirk, whatever it is. The man stands at ease before him, his entire weight on his right leg while his left is stretched out sideways, his thumbs are in the pockets of his trousers and he’s leaning backwards a bit, head turned to look at the other villain in the room. Said other villain scoffs, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ya know as well as I do that it doesn’t matter, Serum. ’E ain’t gonna talk. ’E ain’t gonna take yer offer an’ cooperate. So what if ’e looks like ’e is high? It doesn’t matter if ya gotta use yer Quirk anyways,” he replies. He’s younger than the other fucker, closer to Katsuki’s own age of mid-twenties, with short, wavy blue hair and pale yellow eyes, dressed in torn jeans, a black leather jacket and brown Doc. Martens boots.

Katsuki can’t help feeling like he knows these two assholes from somewhere.

“We’ll see, we’ll see. Who knows, maybe he’ll be more reasonable than the others before him,” the Old Fart whose name Katsuki can’t possibly be asked to remember replies and looks back to the blonde who glares at him. The feeling that he knows the bastard from somewhere only grows. But where has he seen him before? And more importantly, what ‘others’ was the fucker referring to? “Do you actually recognize me now that you can see me, Ground Zero?”

Katsuki snorts and opens his mouth to reply, but his dried-out throat refuses to cooperate and he ends up coughing instead. The villain waits patiently for him to finish. It only serves to piss the explosive hero off more.

“You think… I can be bothered… to remember… every small fry… shitty villain I hear about…?” he finally manages to croak out. His voice is raspy and his throat definitely isn’t up to producing more sound. That much is obvious by the way the short sentence sends him into another coughing fit. The villain hardly seems to mind.

“I sincerely doubt many of your colleagues consider us small fry villains. But no matter. Even if you don’t remember us, you must remember our work. Surely you didn’t forget about the recent hero kidnappings, did you?” he asks, his tone amused and clearly simply waiting for Katsuki’s muddled brain to put two and two together. The blonde scowled.

Yeah, he remembers the kidnappings. It’s not a case he’s working on, at least not yet. He isn’t the type of hero you go to when you need an investigation to gather information, after all. He’s more of the ‘going in guns blazing once the villains were identified’ type of hero. He’s part of the raids and some of the planning, not of the information gathering. That’s more Deku’s type of work, though the nerd obviously takes part in raids and such, too. Still, it’s not like Katsuki doesn’t know anything about it.

The kidnappings in question are of young heroes of Katsuki’s age group. They tend to disappear for about a week or two before either being found in some random alley, or actually being rescued by other heroes. In the second scenario, however, the culprits have never been anywhere near the hideout. If it was even an actual hideout, since there haven’t been any other clues, either. Deku once said that more than once, he felt like they could rescue the victims because the villains wanted them to. In each case, after recovering, the heroes refused to say anything about what happened while they were taken and only allowed trusted doctors to look over their wounds. In most cases, they resigned their job as well. The explanation was always the same. ‘I realized I’m not really cut out to be a hero.’ Which, in Katsuki’s humble opinion, is bullshit. They just got cold feet when things got rough, that was all there was to it. Weaklings.

“I see from your gaze that you’re familiar with that. Are you familiar with the videos that tend to go viral on the internet while said ‘heroes’ were missing?”

Yeah, he is, because he’s sharing an apartment with the biggest hero nerd there is. Deku stumbled upon those videos more than once. Heck, even the media covered them once or twice. The videos in question are of the captured heroes undergoing nothing short of an interrogation about their past, bringing to light some pretty fucked up shit if any of it is true. Not that there is any proof, but the villains seem to think just getting an answer is enough.

Suddenly, it clicks.

These guys are the ones responsible for the kidnappings. They seem familiar because Katsuki has seen them in the videos Deku showed him when they tried to figure out what their quirks are and why they’re kidnapping heroes in the first place. Deku once mentioned that the line of questioning and the reveals about the heroes reminded him of Stain and his ideology about ‘true’ and ‘false’ heroes and how society needs to be purged of the fakes.

“I see you figured it out. Indeed, we are the culprits. We are Stain’s legacy. Although we don’t go about things quite the same way he did. Though his intentions were pure, his way of dealing with the problem wasn’t exactly effective, wouldn’t you agree?” the villain says with a smile, leaning closer to Katsuki as he reaches into the pocket of his trench coat and pulls out a water bottle. Katsuki can’t help the way his eyes wander to it, fixating on the liquid as his throat only starts to burn more at the prospect of getting something to drink.

He’ll die before he begs the villain for anything, though. Not even water, no matter how thirsty he is.

“So here’s what we’ll do, Ground Zero. We can do this the easy way. I’ll ask you questions, you’ll answer truthfully, we’ll record everything, you get your very needed drink after all is said and done and we’ll let you go. Or we can do this the hard way and I’ll force the answers out of you. It’s your call,” the Old Fart says and Katsuki snorts. It’s a bit harder than he cares to admit to say no to the water being held so tentatively in front of him, but he’ll be damned if he gives in to a villain’s demands.

Besides, he’d like to see them try to force anything out of him.

“Choke on a dick and die,” he rasps in response, baring his teeth in challenge. The villain clicks his tongue and opens the water bottle to empty it on the ground in front of the blonde in response. Some desperate part of him wants to try and lean forward to get at least a drop of the moisture, but his iron will allows Katsuki to stay put. He wouldn’t be able to reach the water anyway, he knows.

“The hard way it is, then,” the villain says, reaching for one of the flacons at his belt. Off to the side, still leaning against the wall, his partner snorts.

“Told ya.”

“Oh, quiet down, Sakushi. It was worth a try, at least. Though I should have known the worst of them all would be the most stubborn to try and keep his secrets,” the silver-haired man mutters as he chucks the little container at the floor at Katsuki’s feet. It shatters upon impact, but instead of liquid, a light blue gas cloud rises from it. Katsuki has no idea what it is, but he knows better than to breathe it in, so he holds his breath. It shouldn’t be long before the smoke or gas or whatever it is dissipates and he should be able to breathe again.

Only that’s not what happens. The little cloud doesn’t dissipate, it keeps rising until it reaches the ceiling while more continues to rise from the floor, slowly filling up the upper part of the room. A minute passes. Then two. Katsuki’s lungs are starting to burn, to demand oxygen but he stubbornly stops himself from breathing, waiting for all of the suspicious gas to rise to the ceiling where it hopefully won’t affect him anymore.

“This is takin’ too lon’,” the younger of the two villains suddenly says and before Katsuki can even glance in his direction, the man is in front of him and punches him in the stomach. The hit is fast, strong and unexpected. It ends up winding him and Katsuki soon finds himself coughing, and thus inadvertently inhaling the smoke from the flacon. It only makes him cough more. The gas, whatever it is, burns his trachea with a vengeance. It feels like he actually has fire in his lungs, burning him from the inside. And the more he coughs, the more he breathes this shit in, the more the feeling spreads until it feels like his entire fucking body is on fire.

“That wasn’t really necessary.”

“It got ’im to breathe it in faster. Now clean up the room, I don’t feel like answerin’ questions alongside this asshole.”

“Fair enough.”

Katsuki isn’t sure what happens in the next few moments. He’s too busy coughing and holding back any and all signs of pain, because fuck him if he’ll give these bastards so much as a grunt. By the time the burning subsides, he’s left panting, the cold air doing his abused throat and wind pipe no favors at all. He glares at the villain.

“The fuck… was that… you motherfucker…” he tries to say, the words pulling another coughing fit from him despite being barely audible at this point. The villain has the audacity to laugh at him.

“I used my quirk on you. As for what it does… well, you’ll see in a moment. Sakushi, set up the camera.”

“Already did. We’ll be filmin’ in three… two… one…” the younger villain flips his hand in what is likely the sign that it’s starting and the older of the two turns around to face the camera, his back blocking Katsuki’s view of it and the other villain. Or rather, his position is blocking Katsuki from being caught by the camera.

“Hello, my dear, fellow citizens. I’m pretty sure you recognize me by now. It is I, Serum, the one who continues Stain’s legacy. The one who exposes fake heroes who should never be allowed to be called such. I told you last time that the next time you’d see me, I’d show you the falsest hero there is in the new generation. And here we are. I kept my promise,” he says before stepping aside. Katsuki doesn’t glance into the camera, though. Instead, the glares his best death glare at the villain. “The current number ten hero, one of the supposedly best of his generation, UA alumni of the famous class A, Ground Zero.”

“Who the fuck… are you calling… a fucking fake… you goddamn bastard,” Katsuki manages to hiss at him, miraculously not dissolving into another pathetic coughing fit right after this time, though it’s a close call. His throat definitely doesn’t appreciate his attempts at talking. The Old Fart turns to him. He’s smiling and Katsuki wishes he could explode the expression right off his face. If he wasn’t chained to a wall, he would have. The bastard deserved it.

“Only those who are fakes, Ground Zero. Like you. Don’t bother trying to deny it. The truth will come out soon enough,” the villain answers and for some reason, the way he emphasizes ‘truth’ makes a shiver run down Katsuki’s spine. The silver-haired man turns back to the camera. “We’ll do this the same way as always. This first session will only be about making sure he can’t actually lie. Because as all fakes before him, Ground Zero refuses to cooperate.”

“As I told ya ’e would,” the younger of the two pipes in and the older villain waves a hand at him dismissively.

“Yes, yes, you did. But this old man believed at least one so-called hero would be decent enough to accept to come clean on his own rather than be forced to by this old man’s quirk. Alas… I have been disappointed yet again,” the villain sighs then turns to him. His black eyes are cold, devoid of all emotion. But Katsuki isn’t intimidated in the slightest and only glares back. “Well then, Ground Zero, we’ll start this nice and easy. What is your full name?”

Katsuki doesn’t intend to answer. Not with anything beyond a ‘fuck you’ or something of that sort. Before he can try, however, his own voice resonates in his mind and provides the answer, as if he needed a reminder or something.

Bakugou Katsuki

And in the next second Katsuki feels something on his right forearm, close to where the cuff ends. It’s a sudden stab of pain that he doesn’t expect and it almost makes him flinch. Almost. He doesn’t, though. He does turn his head to see what caused it, however, and blinks at the sight.

“Bakugou Katsuki. Well, we were already aware of that. And as some people might say, it’s not something I couldn’t have known before,” the villain says, but Katsuki barely hears him, too focused on his forearm, where his name is carved into his skin as if someone took a scalpel and wrote it there. Only Katsuki is pretty sure neither of the villains touched him. The kanji-wounds aren’t deep, they’re hardly even bleeding, but they’re there and that in and of itself is quite unsettling.

It doesn’t take him long at all to come to the conclusion that this is somehow connected to the fucker’s quirk. It’s not a hard deduction to make all things considered. Not that knowing that really changes much in the grand scheme of things.

“Let’s try with more challenging knowledge, then. Where did you grow up?”

In Musutafu, his own voice answers in his head again right before the skin on his forearm breaks, the kanji coming into being on his skin seemingly out of nowhere. This time, though, Katsuki expects it. He remains perfectly stoic this time as well

“What middle school did you go to?”

Orudera Junior High

“How well did you do on the UA entrance exam?”

I fucking aced it you dimwit

“I see even your inner voice of truth doesn’t know how to restrain that foul mouth of yours,” the villain comments after reading that particular answer off Katsuki’s other arm. The blonde doesn’t deign him with a reply to that comment, though.

A few more generic questions follow, the answers carved weakly into Katsuki’s skin, though never enough to actually bleed. They’re nothing but superficial wounds and the red-eyed pro doesn’t so much as bat an eye-leash at them. If this is the extent of the Old Fart’s Quirk, then he shouldn’t be singing so many praises of it.

Still, a part of Katsuki realizes that this can’t be it. That more will follow and that the questions won’t stay so innocent for long. This, as the villain has said, was a test. To prove Katsuki’s ‘inner voice of truth’ or whatever did not lie.

“All true. As per usual,” the younger of the two villains drones as he looks through a stack of papers, probably to verify the answers. “But ‘course, we knew that. Our viewers don’t have ta, though.”

“Which is why we’ll stop here for now and give them a few hours to verify things for themselves if they so wish. And then,” the older of the two turns to Katsuki with a sinister smirk on his face, “then we’ll get to the part everyone is waiting for.”

Katsuki isn’t intimidated and he makes it clear by baring his teeth in response. Tied up or not, slowly becoming dehydrated and weakened or not, able to use Explosion or not, Katsuki was not going to cower or anything of the sort. If that was what the villains were hoping for, they had another thing coming.

~The Absolute Truth~

The next time they come, Katsuki greets them with a weak glare. The chains holding him still rattle with his shivers and his throat feels drier than ever. God, he’s thirsty. Cold and thirsty. And the Old Fart is holding up another water bottle.

“I’ll give you one last chance, Ground Zero. Do we do this the easy way or the hard way?” he asks with a smile so falsely sweet Katsuki would want to puke under normal circumstances. As it is, it takes all of his will power to not beg for the water. But he doesn’t. He’s not that weak.

“Go fuck yourself,” he croaks instead, voice breaking and a coughing fit following soon after, longer than before. The villain sighs.

“Have it your way,” he says as he puts the water away and breaks another vial of smoke at Katsuki’s feet. Just like last time, the blonde tries to hold his breath. But just like last time, it ends up being futile, although not because the more impatient villain punches him. This time, it’s simply his lungs that give out and he caves to the need to breathe, desperate gasps quickly becoming painful coughs as the gas works its magic, burning its way through Katsuki’s entire body. Somehow, it feels even worse than last time and he’s left hanging limply from his restraints, panting harshly once the feeling subsides.

“Now that we got the pleasantries out of the way, let us get to the part I’m sure everyone is most curious about. I’m pretty sure people wonder why I would consider Ground Zero, of all heroes, to be a fake. Now we shall have the man himself reveal that to us,” the Old Fart speaks again in that theatrical way of his that indicates the camera is running again. Raising his head, Katsuki glares at him. The fucker can do whatever he wants, force him to answer any question, but the young hero is certain and determined not to give him what he wants.

No matter what.

“Well then, let’s get started. What inspired you to become a hero, Ground Zero?” the villain asks and Katsuki snorts. Really, the answer to that should be obvious. It was the same for nearly every hero of his generation.

The number one hero of my childhood

All Might

This time, he feels the letters carving themselves lower on his arm, closer to his elbow, but the wounds are still generally insignificant. Katsuki doesn’t flinch at their appearance. He has no reason to.

“And what exactly was it about him that inspired you?” was the next question and this time, Katsuki rolled his eyes. For a guy supposedly wanting to expose him as a ‘false hero’, this villain was going a very odd way about it. How was any of this incriminating in any way? Hell, if Katsuki had known that was all the guy would ask, he would have agreed to answer his damned questions just to be done with it and have a chance to beat him to a pulp upon being released. If he were stupid enough to believe he’s going to be released, that is.

The way he always won his fights, is the answer to that inquiry, carved right below the previous one. It’s just as shallow and easy to ignore. Katsuki suspects it won’t even scar once it heals.

“So, you wanted to be a hero just so you could fight villains and win?”

Pretty much yeah

“It was nothing but a means for you to be able to enact violence, to be able to beat people up and be in the right for it, then? That was all you cared about?” the villain continues and his voice is harder now. Katsuki clenches his fists and bristles, baring his teeth. Yes, he wanted to fight villains as a kid and yes, he wanted to always win (he still wanted to always win, really), but that didn’t mean…

When I was a fucking kid

Yes

Because I didn’t fucking know better, he hears his own voice in his mind and he freezes. What the fuck? What the actual fuck was that supposed to mean? He never thought that way! Did he?

Before he could think much more on it, though, his skin started splitting again as the answer he heard in his head manifested on his body, this time on his shoulder blade, rather than his arm. But unlike the previous times the invisible scalpel carved the answers into his flesh, this one made him flinch and hiss when he felt the layers of his skin slowly pulling apart until they tore. This time, the pain was worse. And this time, as the characters slowly manifested, Katsuki could feel the warmth of blood slowly soaking his shirt.

For whatever reason, this wound wasn’t as shallow and inconsequential as the previous ones.

The villain regarded him for a moment without a word, eyes roaming the parts of Katsuki’s body that were exposed in clear search of the answer to his question. When he didn’t find it, he smirked and slowly approached.

“I suppose now we’re starting to really get to the root of it all. Since we’re past the answers you don’t care to hide,” he says simply as he grips Katsuki’s shirt and pulls on it with surprising strength. The material gives easily enough under the strain and the blonde is left shirtless. Not that it really matters much as far as the room’s temperature is concerned because the drenched piece of clothing certainly didn’t do much to shield him from the cold. Still, Katsuki glares at the man and bares his teeth again, daring him to do more than that. His warning is disregarded as the villain grabs his shoulder and pushes him forward so he could take a look at his back, since his front is free of any bloody letter-wounds.

‘Don’t fucking touch me,’ Katsuki wants to growl at him, but his throat is too dry at this point and all he does is cough, his voice no longer cooperating with him. He really, really needs some water, now that he thinks about it.

“Ah, an answer you don’t even want to acknowledge yourself, even. Interesting. I suppose a part of you understood your thoughts aren’t very hero-like, then. Too bad that part wasn’t big enough to keep you on the right path,” the villain comments before reading the sentence carved into Katsuki’s shoulder blade and roughly pushing him back against the wall. His newly injured shoulder flares with pain when it connects with the cold stone and the blonde grimaces for a moment before he looks up to glare at the villain again. The fucker clearly didn’t know what he was talking about. Katsuki didn’t stray from any ‘right path’, after all. He’s a hero and a damn good one and this bastard can’t prove otherwise.

“Even if it was a part of you you didn’t want to acknowledge, though, you must have known it was there. So that begs the question: was there someone else you were violent to just because you knew you could? Because you were, let’s say, ‘allowed’ to?” the silver-haired villain asks and Katsuki can’t help the way his body tenses. He finds himself biting his tongue and gnashing his teeth together, as if that will stop him from responding. Because he doesn’t want this truth coming out. Not to this bastard. Not to the media. Not to anyone. It’s between him and Deku, damn it, and no one else has a right to meddle in this problem!

Yes there was a quirkless kid I grew up with

He knows the answer, he fucking knows but he still hates it when that inner voice that sounds so much like his own (that is his own) admits to it so easily. He’s so focused on beating his brain for not fighting the urge to answer truthfully that he isn’t prepared for that answer to start carving itself into his flesh again. So when the skin over his left clavicle starts to tear, he flinches and has to bite back a yelp at the onslaught of pain. Especially since unless he’s imagining it, it takes longer for the answer to form. At least he didn’t reveal Deku by name…

“A quirkless child… You bullied them? And the fact that that peer of yours was quirkless was the only reason you bullied them?” there’s no denying the interest in the villain’s voice now, though his eyes are hard and judgmental. As if he has a right to judge. The other fucker, the younger one, is smirking vindictively.

Katsuki, for his part, wishes he could use his quirk to blow them both up like they deserve. These were not their secrets to earth up! This was between him and Deku, damn it!

But just because he wants to keep it between the two of them just like he’s pretty certain Deku does (since he never said anything to anyone else and he had more than enough opportunities to), doesn’t mean the quirk lets him.

Yes I did

I beat him up him because he was quirkless

Because he was beneath me and he had the gall to look down on me

I pushed him down to put him in his place, his own voice admits quietly in his head, shame evident in the tone only Katsuki can hear. It’s a feeling he’s aware of, a feeling he can admit to, if only to himself. He hasn’t considered that particular part of his childhood to be anything worth bragging about for years now. And he has been trying to make up for past mistakes to the one person who has any right to judge him for his actions for just as long.

He grits his teeth as the kanji start appearing on his skin and clenches his fists, unwilling to make a single sound. He’s not going to give the fuckers the satisfaction. The answer to the previous question that carved itself into his skin keeps burning, but he ignores that, too. In fact, he takes the opportunity this lengthy reply gives him to actually take a look at how the fuck these words are being carved into his skin in the first place.

His first thought was that it would be akin to an invisible scalpel cutting him up, but that’s not what it looks like. Rather than being cut by an invisible blade, his skin is being stretched by invisible fingers until it literally breaks under the strain, one layer after another until blood starts leaking from the injury. Slowly, little by little, the wounds form lines which then form kanji which in turn form entire sentences written into his skin. It’s morbid to look at, even for a hero who’s used to seeing worse shit than that.

Katsuki moves his gaze to his arm next and then to his shoulder. The injuries on his arm are barely worth mentioning. Shallow cuts, scratches more than anything else. By contrast, his admittance of the existence of a ‘quirkless kid’ is bloody and the edges of the letters are red and irritated. It bleeds a lot, too, but that’s probably because it’s deeper.

“To put him in his place… and let me guess, his place was beneath you just because you had a flashy Quirk and he did not,” the villain said next, his voice filled with contempt. Torn out of his observations, Katsuki glares at him again. The silver-haired man gives him a judgmental stare. “I knew you were far from being anywhere near what a hero should be. And yet even I didn’t expect you to be this bad. You’re not just a false hero, Ground Zero. You are a villain in a hero’s clothing.”

Katsuki bares his teeth at that. Because what right does this asshole have to judge? None! Besides, it wasn’t like Katsuki was anything like that anymore. He’s grown up. He’s changed. The only person who has a right to give him Hell over this is the very same person he used to bully. Only Deku had a right to judge him for his past actions. Not this asshole who doesn’t know shit. If he only asked if Katsuki still thought that way, he’d find out that no, he did not. But Katsuki knows better than to expect that kind of question. Because this fucker wants to make him look like a fucking villain.

“How far did you take your abuse of that poor, quirklees boy, exactly? What’s the worst thing you did in your attempts to ‘put him in his place’, as you put it?” the Old Fart asks and Katsuki glowers in response, indignant.

‘That’s none of your fucking business, it’s between me and him!’ he wants to yell. Tries to, even, but his dried out throat refuses to cooperate and he starts to cough again, this time more harshly.

The worst thing I ever did is telling him to kill himself

The answer carves itself into his chest, right above his heart, before the coughing fit subsides. The combination of the pain and the coughing leaves him gasping for breath once it’s over, quivering in the restraints as his body clearly slowly reaches the limit of what it can endure. Shit.

He really, really needs some water.

And to punch the bastard who thinks he has the right to dredge up his past in the face. But mostly water.

“What words did you say, exactly? Share with us. Show us how much of a monster you really are, Ground Zero,” the villain’s voice is tight with restrained anger, but when Katsuki looks up to glare at him again, he sees that he’s smiling a satisfied smile. The bastard is enjoying this. It’s even likely he knew at least about the bullying beforehand, otherwise he wouldn’t have known to target the blonde. Knowing that only makes Katsuki angrier, especially since he doesn’t need to hear the answer in his head to know what it is.

Those words still haunt him in his nightmares at times, along with the terrifying question of what would have happened if Deku had actually listened.

I told him…

‘Shut up!’ Katsuki thinks, willing that inner voice he can’t control to be quiet. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. The only person who has any right to hear anything about this and potentially demand that he come out to the public is Deku. And Deku has had many chances to reveal Katsuki’s past. But he never has. No one other than him and Katsuki himself has the right to give the Explosion Hero grief over this, damn it! It’s between them and only them!

…that I have a time saving idea for him…

‘Shut up!’

…that if he wants to have a quirk that badly…

‘Shut the fuck up!!!’

…he should take a swan dive off a roof and hope for a quirk in his next life

The pain blooms on his throat this time, the characters that write the answer carving themselves into his skin and following the path of his trachea down towards his chest until they reach his clavicle. There, they stop, only to continue a bit below his chin again, to the right of the previous ones, closer to the middle of his throat. Just like one would write them on a small piece of paper.

It doesn’t feel like a scalpel cutting through his skin this time. Nor does it feel like his skin is breaking on its own after being stretched too thin. Instead, the experience is akin to having his throat literally shredded, as if a million of tiny, jagged claws or teeth are digging into his flesh and pulling at it to brand him with the words.

This time, Katsuki screams.

His voice is hoarse and forcing it out of his dry throat only makes the pain worse both inside and outside, but Katsuki can’t help it, can’t stop himself. He may have a high pain tolerance, but this isn’t the kind of pain he’s used to, it’s not the kind of pain he can shrug off and ignore as he rushes back into a fight.

His body jerks as he reflexively tries to bring his bound hands to his throat, either to protect it from more abuse (not that he could) or to at least stem the blood flow. The chains rattle with the movement, but they hold and all he gets for the effort is another stab of pain from his wrists and the feeling of a warm liquid escaping the cuffs. Blood.

He feels that same warm blood flowing freely from the wounds on his throat, making its way down his chest in small, red trickles and painting his skin red.

Katsuki slumps forward when it finally ends, though the fresh wound still burns and stings. He tries not to move too much to not aggravate it further, but it proves to be a moot endeavor as the villain steps closer and pulls his head up by his hair. The blonde squeezes his eyes shut and hisses before glaring weakly at his captor. The silver-haired man ignores him, however, focusing on the characters on his throat as he reads the answer aloud, just like he has with all the other ones. Then he lets Katsuki’s head drop again and the blonde lets out a grunt of pain despite trying to hold it back.

“There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Ground Zero, the strongest hero of his generation. The hero who keeps saying he’ll be number one. The supposedly best there is. A hero who in his past almost instigated the suicide of one of his peers, just because he was ‘beneath him’,” the older of the two villains says as he turns towards the camera. The younger of the two snorts.

“Ain’t that backwards? I thought ’eroes were s’pposed ta protect those weaker than them, not torment them,” he says. His partner nods.

“Indeed. And yet here we have an example of a person who did just that, all while saying he’s going to be a hero. And would you look at that, he is one. Though I don’t think I would trust him with my wellbeing as a civilian after hearing all of that.”

“Doesn’t ’e remind ya of Endeavor? The guy was also number one ’ero after All Might’s retirement. Number two for eons ’fore that. And man did the guy ’ave skeletons in ‘is closet. Driving ’is wife mad, abusing ’is own children… this’s pretty much as ’ardcore, ain’t it. And both’re notable UA alumni. Makes ya wonder if UA really checks wheth’r ’r not the applicants for the entrance exams ’ave what it takes ta be actual ’eroes.”

“It does, I agree. You would think they’d be more… selective of their applicants. Since they say they only form the best of the best,” the older of the two villains comments. Then he waves his hand dismissively. “Anyway, I believe we’re done here. I know all I wanted to know from this guy and more.”

“Wait Serum. There’s two more questions I think ya should ask. I, for one, wanna know wheth’r ’r not Ground Zero knows what ’appened to that kid ’e tormented. And second, people could still try to defend this asshole, since ’e was a kid at the time and all that. So I wanna know ’ow bad it was. Not just ’ow far he took it. I wanna know ’ow long it went on ’fore ’e stopped, be it ’cause ’e actually realized it’s wron’ or ’cause someone stopped ’im or ’cause the kid moved away,” the blue-haired villain says. His partner is silent for a moment, then sighs.

“I suppose you have a point, Sakushi,” he acquiesces and turns back to his captive. Katsuki barely takes any note of the entire exchange. He’s still reeling from the way his last answer literally tore itself into the flesh of his throat. “Ground Zero, how long did you torment this quirkless peer of yours?” he asks and Katsuki grits his teeth, once again trying to will that voice in his head to stay fucking quiet.

It doesn’t listen.

It started when he was diagnosed as quirkless when we were nearly five and went on until the beginning of the last year of middle school

It’s not as bad as the previous reply pain-wise, but Katsuki still hisses and lets out a hoarse ‘fuck…’ as the skin on his chest stretches and tears, the kanji blooming into bloody existence to form the answer to the question. The villain clicks his tongue as he reads it aloud.

“About ten years, then, give or take a few months. Ten years that he tormented a boy his age just because he had no quirk,” he says in a level tone. The other villain hisses.

“That’s fucked up…”

“You’re the one who wanted to know.”

“Shut up. I just thought it’d be better to ask for our viewer’ sake. Now ask the last question.”

“Fine,” Old Fart turns to Katsuki again and the blonde blinks blearily at him before glaring as he has before, defiant to the end. “Do you know what became of that boy?”

Shit. This was bad. This was really bad.

That was an answer he couldn’t give no matter what. He couldn’t. He fucking couldn’t! It would lead to more questions he had no right to answer. It was a secret he wasn’t supposed to share and one he didn’t intend to share. With anyone. Deku and All Might trusted him with this and he was not fucking going to break that trust!

‘Don’t answer that! Don’t you fucking dare answer that!’

He became a hero like me

‘Fuck!’

The short answer carves itself into the little hollow point at the base of his throat, right between his clavicles. Katsuki doesn’t know if it’s because of the placement or something else, but it feels like a rabid animal is tearing its claws into his flesh again and another hoarse scream is torn out of his abused throat. He doesn’t see the way the villains blink at that nor the way they exchange questioning glances. He doesn’t notice when the middle-aged villain who’s been asking all the questions comes closer again, either, but he does notice when he’s being pulled up by his hair again so his throat is more visible. The blonde squeezes his eyes shut in response as his breathing grows more ragged. A pathetic whimper of pain almost escapes him, but he manages to swallow it down, if only barely. He still has some dignity left, thank you.

But fucking Hell, why does this hurt so goddamn much? It’s just a shitty, insignificant flesh wound, he’s had worse!

“Are you delusional?” the villain asks as he stares at the answer to his previous question. Katsuki opens his eyes and glares at him again, although the man holding him by his hair is clearly not impressed.

“Fuck you…” the blonde croaks out weakly just as the voice in his head answers with about as much indignation as Katsuki wishes he could put into his failing voice.

I’m not delusional you asshat

The villain’s eyes move to Katsuki’s left arm where the answer carves itself, shallow and insignificant like way in the beginning. Katsuki doesn’t even notice it happening.

“Why would ya ask ’im that?” the other villain pipes in, cocking his head to the side. The black-eyed man scoffs and releases Katsuki’s head, leaving him to slump forward again with a grunt as pain runs through his body at the harsh movement of his neck.

“Because he seems to believe the victim of his bullying, a quirkless child, became a hero,” Old Fart answers with a shake of his head. “Which we both know cannot be. There are no quirkless heroes. But it makes you wonder who he tormented so much that he’d convince himself that they’re a hero rather than whatever truly happened to them to the point that even my quirk would pick that over the absolute truth… Who was it, Ground Zero?”

Fuck. Fuck no. He can’t reveal this. He can’t drag Deku and his fucking secret into this!

It was my childhood friend and current hero partner…

‘Shut up! Don’t say it! Don’t you dare fucking reveal it you son of a bitch!’

…the current number eight in the hero rankings…

‘No! Shut up! Shut up right fucking now! They can’t fucking know this you dumbass! Shut! UP!!!’

…Hero Deku

“No!” Katsuki can’t help but choke out, heart racing before the pain sets in as the part of the front of his throat that hasn’t been torn up yet tears and rips, the damning answer carving itself into his skin where everyone can see. Katsuki screams again, as much as he can considering his voice barely works.

Damn it! Damn it all to fucking Hell! People aren’t supposed to know that Deku used to be fucking quirkless! That it was more than just being a ‘late bloomer’ or whatever other shit he came up with to cover his tracks! People weren’t supposed to know and there was a fucking reason for that! Katsuki wasn’t supposed to be the one who outed him, either! He didn’t fucking want to out him, least of all to a pair of shitty, fucking villains.

Again, he’s pulled up by his hair as the villain reads the symbols carving themselves into Katsuki’s skin. The blonde gasps, his red eyes once again closed tight as he endures the agony. It’s even worse this time, or at least that’s what it feels like.

He’s released without a word, the answer visible for anyone to see on his skin mercifully not read out loud this time. It doesn’t really make him feel better about it, though. It’s still there, still visible and the villain still read it. Katsuki isn’t optimistic enough to think the bastard will chalk it up to the ‘late bloomer being confused for a quirkless’ story. Not considering how absolutely impossible his fucking quirk makes it to avoid answering questions with nothing but the absolute truth. And the absolute truth is that Deku used to be quirkless, not that he’s a late bloomer or whatever.

“Sakushi, turn off the camera. We’re done here,” the older villain says and his partner blinks at him. But the silver-haired man’s expression must be something the younger recognizes as a sign that things are serious because he doesn’t ask any questions and just nods before doing as told. Then the two of them leave Katsuki alone, the steel door slamming into its lock with a foreboding sense of finality.

~The Absolute Truth~

The villains don’t come back for a long time. Or at least Katsuki assumes it’s a long time, but it’s really hard to tell. He doesn’t have any way to keep track of time here, for one. But even if he did, it would be difficult to do so with the way he starts drifting in and out of consciousness.

His throat is drier than it’s ever been and his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth. When he breathes, the air feels like it scratches at his insides uncomfortably. He really needs to drink something. Anything. It’s getting to the point where he’s willing to beg for it if he has to, pride be damned. He needs water. Desperately.

A couple of the times he’s awake, his nose picks up the scent of food and his stomach never fails to twist painfully when he does. With everything else going on, hunger is a feeling the blonde pushed to the back of his mind and barely acknowledged. But the times it rears its ugly head and reminds him he hasn’t eaten in a while, it’s enough to make him almost fold in on himself. As much as his chains allow him to, anyway.

He stopped shivering, though. Not that it’s a good sign, because it certainly isn’t due to the room temperature rising. He’s still cold and his body had mostly grown numb with it. A tiny part of his brain still capable of rational thought recognizes that he’s experiencing hypothermia, as if the heatstroke from before hadn’t been bad enough, but he hardly pays any attention to that conclusion. It’s not like he can do anything about it either way.

Despite the numbness in his arms and legs, however, the wounds on his throat, chest, shoulders and shoulder blades burn and he’s acutely aware of that each time he wakes. The letters carved into his skin are an angry red and still ooze blood and puss – the best proof that they probably got infected since they haven’t been tended to. It’s probably the combination of his dehydration and the infection that makes Katsuki as drowsy as he is. Not that the cold is helping.

Whenever he feels his consciousness drifting, Katsuki fights it. He fights it with a vengeance because he knows that each time he drifts off might be his last. And fuck him if he kicks the damn bucket here of all places.

He always passes out in the end. But he also always wakes up again, still cold, still thirty, still hungry and with his wounds still burning. He stays alive and he waits, because at this point, with how weakened he is, it’s all he can do.

Wait.

He doesn’t lose hope, though. Because he knows Deku is out there looking for him. There’s no way the nerd’s not looking. And Deku always finds him.

Katsuki just has to hold out until he does.

~The Absolute Truth~

It’s getting harder to stay awake.

Katsuki is pretty sure he’s not fully lucid whenever he is awake, either, considering what he thought he saw a few times. Which was the younger of the villains sticking in or taking out a needle out of one of his numb arms and muttering something about ‘keeping him just hydrated enough that he doesn’t croak on them’. But that doesn’t make much sense. From previous kidnapping incidents, the villains likely already got what they wanted out of him, so there was no reason for them to try and keep him alive. Even if it’s just barely.

His wounds burn. They’re getting worse. The ones on his chest and throat make breathing an agonizing chore.

How long has he been here already?

How long does Deku need to find this place?

…Was he even looking?

No. No, that’s a stupid question. Of course he’s looking. He has to be. Deku is a worrywart, especially when it comes to people he cares about. Of course he’s looking. He’s probably turning all of Japan upside down, even.

Then why hasn’t Katsuki been found yet?

Maybe it hasn’t been that long yet. It feels like eons to the blonde, but that doesn’t mean it has actually been that long. It could have just been a few days. Deku is looking. He’ll find him. He always does.

Katsuki just… needs to hold on for a bit longer.

~The Absolute Truth~

Water. Food. Warmth.

It’s all Katsuki’s brain can focus on now. Water, food and warmth. The three things he desperately needs to survive.

The three things he doesn’t get no matter how much time passes.

His wounds are the only parts of his numb body, aside from his dry throat, that he still feels. They send a burning pain through him constantly and a flare of agony whenever he tries to move the slightest bit.

It’s starting to become more than he can handle.

Maybe he should just… give up. Let himself drift off and never wake up.

At least then he wouldn’t suffer anymore.

It sounds like a very good idea, if he’s honest.

Katsuki closes his eyes.

He stops fighting.

Lets his consciousness drift.

Then he sees a flash of green curly hair and hears a kind voice call ‘Kacchan!’ and his eyes snap open, his entire body jerking. Agony courses through him as a result and making him choke on a scream his throat can’t make at this point, but it hardly matters as the blonde proceeds to mentally beat himself up.

What the fuck was he thinking? Giving up?! What is he, some kind of pussy?! No, damn it! He’s Ground Zero and he’ll be fucked if he gives up just like that. Not before he’s found.

Not before Deku finds him. Because he has to find him. He has to.

~The Absolute Truth~

He’s cold and his throat is bone dry.

He needs water.

His wounds burn.

But Katsuki keeps fighting. He has to keep fighting.

He has to see Deku again.

~The Absolute Truth~

He doesn’t know how much time passed. He doesn’t care, either. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that he needs to hold out for just a bit more.

Deku will find him for sure, Katsuki knows that.

He knows it…

~The Absolute Truth~

Deku.

He wants Deku to find him.

He wants to see the nerd again.

~The Absolute Truth~

Where is Deku?

Why hasn’t he found Katsuki yet?

~The Absolute Truth~

‘I want to see you… I need to see you… please, Deku… I just want to see you again…’

~The Absolute Truth~

“I don’ think ’e is in any state to answer yer questions truthfully at this point even if ’e wants ta.”

“That’s not an issue. I do not trust him to answer truthfully this time anyway.”

“Ya think ’e would be that stubborn? Come on, Serum, ’e is barely ’oldin’ on, ya offer ’im some water an’ food an’ ’e will be singin’ like a canary.”

“You saw where the wounds appeared and how bad they were. He was very determined to try and keep it a secret. It’s the kind of answer he would have taken to his grave if not for my quirk. So yes, I believe he’d be that stubborn.”

“Jus’ what was the answer ya read ta make ya that curious to know the absolute truth?”

“You’ll know in a moment.”

“Are we recordin’ this?”

“No. This is a private session.”

“A’right.”

A glass container shatters somewhere close and a moment later, Katsuki inhales something that isn’t the relatively clean air of the room he’s been kept in for who knows how long now. The gas burns as it enters his trachea and the pain is more than enough to force his brain into full wakefulness as he starts coughing violently. He recognizes the feeling. He knows what it is.

He knows what will come next, too. And that he can’t do anything to fucking stop it.

Damn it. Fucking… damn it… to all Hell…

Not again…

He can’t take this again.

And he doesn’t want to, either.

Because he knows what secret they’ve come to get out of him this time. And he would rather die than divulge it to them.

“So, Ground Zero, let me get one thing straight. The Hero Deku is the one you tormented for ten years before you both entered UA?”

Yes

A short answer, thankfully, but not any less damning. Katsuki hisses as it carves itself into his right shoulder.

“Wait, what? Deku? But that makes no sense. Deku ’as a quirk,” the other villain pipes up, suddenly interested. Katsuki grits his teeth.

“Which is why we’re interrogating the one who apparently knew him his whole life. Depending on the answers we get, Hero Deku may turn out to be yet another fake, after all, and if he is, then we need to expose him. Even if he has been acknowledged by Stain as a teenager,” the other villain says and even through the pain he feels because of the fucker’s quirk, Katsuki freezes, eyes wide as he stares at the ground.

They’re going to target Deku next?

No. No! Katsuki can’t let that happen. He won’t let it happen!

“Fuck… off… Deku’s… no fake…” he forces himself to croak out before he gives in to his body’s demands and starts coughing again. His throat really doesn’t agree with attempts at talking anymore, clearly.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” is all the villain says, unimpressed. He doesn’t let Katsuki recover before he asks the next question. “Has Hero Deku been diagnosed as quirkless by a specialist when he was a child?”

Yes

The same answer and Katsuki is pretty sure it carves itself in the same spot as the previous one, deepening the wound rather than creating a new one. He gasps and squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to fight it. This quirk has to be stoppable somehow. It has to! No quirk is fucking unbeatable…

“How does he have a quirk now, then?”

‘Don’t say it! Don’t let him know!’

It was passed on to him

“By whom?”

‘Don’t say it!’

All Might

“Willingly?”

‘Don’t fucking say anything!’

It can only be passed on willingly

‘Shut the fuck up!’

All Might decided to make Deku his successor

This isn’t like the last time the villain interrogated him. Last time, Katsuki was at least granted some time to recover between the answers forced out of his brain and onto his skin. He doesn’t get the luxury this time as kanji after kanji carves itself into the flesh of his shoulders and chest, his skin tearing under invisible jagged blades or claws or whatever could possibly tear into him in such a painful manner. Katsuki is left gasping in the aftermath of it all, blood flowing freely from wounds both fresh and old and dry sobs escaping him.

Even the blonde himself can’t say if they’re due to the physical pain he’s in or the pain of knowing that he’s breaking Deku’s and All Might’s trust, though.

It doesn’t matter that he can’t seem to fight this goddamn, shitty quirk. He promised All Might and Deku to keep the secret. He was supposed to keep it no matter what. But here were two villains ripping the truth oh so easily out of him. It was pathetic and disgraceful.

“Does that mean Hero Deku will one day choose a successor and give them his quirk?”

That’s what he intends to do eventually

“And how exactly does one pass on that quirk?”

I don’t know

‘Don’t reveal anything more… please… don’t say any more…’

I only know the quirk has to be given and received willingly it can’t be forced

Katsuki chokes on a scream that won’t leave his throat. The letters tear at the skin of his sternum as they appear no matter how hard he tries to will them not to. He doesn’t want to reveal this secret. To anyone. He’d rather die!

Why can’t he just die before he reveals anything else?

Although then again, there isn’t much more to reveal. The villains already know everything that matters. Because Katsuki let them tear the information out of him.

“Well, if Deku was chosen by All Might, guess that makes ’im a real deal, no?”

“Maybe. This question should answer it. Say Hero Deku will eventually look for a successor. How would he choose who’s adequate?”

Katsuki closes his eyes in resignation. He doesn’t have the strength to fight this anymore. And besides, it’s not like he hasn’t already revealed everything that matters. By comparison, this is nothing important.

The nerd has high standards

He’d want someone hard working whose heart was in the right place

Someone who wants to be a hero for the sake of helping people but who won’t shy away from the hard work that needs to be put in to achieve that kind of goal

It doesn’t hurt as much as before when the kanji appear on his skin on his waist and lower abdomen. It’s not so bad that he wants to scream so much that he chokes on it. But it still leaves him gasping for breath as the characters carve themselves into his skin and he’s left breathless when the answer finishes gruesomely writing itself. And yet he’s not done as that inner voice that sounds just like his own adds on another thing.

Deku once said he’d only pick a successor we both agreed was deserving of it

The villains are quiet as that little tidbit adds itself on to the rest of his answer. Katsuki is grateful for that. It gives him a chance to gather himself, to recover, if only a little bit. Not that he can recover much given the burning agony his older wounds are in.

“Why would Hero Deku care whether or not you agree with his choice of potential successor?” comes the next question and Katsuki grits his teeth. Aren’t they done yet? They got everything that mattered out of him. What more do they fucking want?

Because he always cared about what I think

Because he trusts me

“Ain’t that a funny belief comin’ from the guy who tormented ‘im fer years. Why the ‘ell would ’e trust ya? Or care about yer opinion on anythin’?” the younger of the two villains asks and for once, Katsuki’s desire to stay silent is taken into account. No forced answer comes from the voice in his head and no matching characters appear on his skin. At least not until the elder of the two repeats the questions word for word. Then the answer is given instantly.

Hell if I know but he does

And isn’t that the truth. Katsuki sure as fuck doesn’t know why or how Deku could bring himself to trust him after everything he’s put the nerd through. But the fact remains that the other hero does trust him. They wouldn’t be hero partners if they didn’t trust each other. They wouldn’t be living together if Deku didn’t trust him and think of him as a friend. Katsuki has no idea why Deku doesn’t hate him, why he doesn’t kick the blonde out of his life and he doesn’t plan on asking. He’s not planning on looking a gift horse in the fucking mouth. Nor will he ask for more. He’s happy to get just this much.

He still winces and hisses in pain as the kanji-wounds appear on his skin. His right shoulder again, close to the clavicle. He doesn’t register the fresh trickle of warm blood that join the countless others that paint his cold, pale skin red.

“Hm. Well, I guess that means we’re done here.”

“Wait, Serum. I gotta ask the guy one last question. So, Zero, ya admitted to tormentin’ Hero Deku for years because ya felt ‘e was beneath ya. What about now, huh? How do ya feel about him now?” the younger of the two, Katsuki’s peer asks and the blonde’s eyes snap open wide at the question. No. No way. He won’t answer that. He can’t answer that. Not like this. Not at all.

“Sakushi, now’s not the time…”

“Oh, but look at ‘is reaction, Serum. Come on! Ask ‘im! I’m sure the answer’ll be more than a litl’ amusin’,” the villain insists and the black-eyed man sighs.

“Fine. What do you feel for Hero Deku now, Ground Zero, if you stopped believing he was beneath you?” he asks and Katsuki feels dread washing over him.

I…

‘No. No! Don’t say it! Don’t you fucking dare! If anyone has the right to hear it, it’s Deku! Not these assholes! Not here, not like this!’ Katsuki yells at that annoying little voice of him in his mind. And for the first time, the answer actually doesn’t come. Katsuki is holding it back.

A part of him is ashamed that he’s managing it now, but failed to do it when they were asking about Deku’s quirk, but he can’t focus on that now. Because he has a secret to keep. His last. If nothing else, he won’t let the fuckers rip this one out of him.

Katsuki’s throat feels like it’s on fire. He’s choking and he can’t breathe. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think someone was suffocating him on purpose. But the two villains are a good few steps away from him and aren’t touching him. They haven’t since they’ve come in. Still, Katsuki chokes. The younger of the two villains snickers.

“What, this is the secret ye’ll die protectin’? Not ’ow much of an abusive asshole ya were? Not a clearly important secret ye’ve been asked ta keep? This? Yer current feelings fer the number eight hero?” the young man asks with a loud snicker that cuts off abruptly soon enough. “Don’t make me laugh,” he says and grips Katsuki’s hair, lifting him up a bit and then slamming his head hard against the wall. If the blonde wasn’t suffocating, he might have gasped at the impact.

“Sakushi, it might be only temporary, but don’t destroy our hideout,” the older villain comments flatly. He’s ignored as the blue-haired bastard slams Katsuki into the wall a second time.

“Out with it, Zero. Ya don’t get ta keep yer secrets anymore. Ya don’t get ta die trying ta keep them, either. Not after ya sang so prettily about everythin’ else. So, answer the damn question.”

‘Fuck you,’ is what Katsuki wants to tell him. He would if he could too, but even if his throat was willing to cooperate, the lack of air in his air ways makes talking generally impossible. His lungs burn. He needs to breathe.

“Ground Zero, what do you feel for Hero Deku now?” comes the calm voice of the silver-haired villain and the pressure Katsuki feels on his trachea increases. He feels his consciousness slipping. But that’s good. Maybe he’ll be able to withstand this fucking quirk at least this once if he passes out…

Then something deep inside him snaps and he’s flooded with agony as the answer is given despite his struggles.

I FUCKING LOVE HIM

Just as suddenly as it appeared, whatever was blocking Katsuki’s airways is gone and he can breathe again. At the same time, his reply to the question blooms across his left pectoral and his vision whites out from the agony. The villain releases him and the blond slumps down, only his chains holding him more or less upright as he struggles to just breathe between the desperate gasps for air his body demands and the way he chokes on said air because of a scream of pain his throat wants but fails to produce. The villains don’t make a sound while he suffers, most likely waiting for the characters on his skin to form enough to be legible. They’re bigger than any of the other kanji, taking up all the free space in the left side of his chest that was left.

When his skin finally stops tearing and shredding itself, Katsuki takes a shuddering breath and closes his eyes.

That’s when one of the villains, he doesn’t know anymore which one, laughs.

“Ya love ‘im? Ya fell in love with the guy ya used to look down on an’ torment? Oh ain’t that rich! Does ‘e know? Nah, prolly not. ‘E wouldn’t wanna be partners with ya if ‘e knew, right? Ah man, wait ‘till our viewers get a load o’ this!”

“You recorded it.”

“Ya bet yer ass I did. Jus’ this las’ question, don’t worry. And boy am I glad I did. This is jus’ pure gold right ‘ere.”

“Keep going then. Tell me Ground Zero, do you think hero Deku would ever feel the same?” The question hits Katsuki hard and he flinches, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as his eyes start to burn. And how pathetic is that? After everything that happened, every secret he revealed (be it his own or someone else’s), all the pain he’s in and it’s a simple question about his feelings being requited and the answer to it that nearly brings him to tears.

(Never mind the fact that in his state of dehydration, he didn’t think he could even cry.)

I know he won’t

He’d have to be a fool to love back someone who made his childhood a living Hell

A dry sob escapes him as the voice answers and this time, it’s not the pain of the kanji carving themselves into some patch of skin in the middle of his chest that hasn’t been mutilated yet that causes it. Of course he knows that he has no chance of his feelings being requited. He fucking knows. That’s why he never said anything, why he didn’t intend to ever let Deku know. Because he doesn’t want to be rejected and he doesn’t want to risk losing the friendship they have only barely managed to salvage.

It doesn’t make it any easier to have to admit it, though.

“At least you know that much. Sakushi, we’re done here.”

“Aye aye,” the younger villain still sounds giddy as he turns off the camera and follows after his older partner, the steel door slamming shut a moment later.

It’s not long after that that Katsuki’s consciousness fades, his body pushed far beyond its limits by now.

~The Absolute Truth~

He drifts in and out of consciousness again, his waking moments marked by pain and cold and thirst.

But mostly pain, and not all of it physical.

He can’t forget the way he’s been forced to reveal Deku’s and All Might’s secret. How easily he gave it up. And how much he fought when he was asked about his goddamn feelings.

Why couldn’t he have fought just as hard to protect Deku’s secret as he did trying to protect his own?

‘I’m sorry…’ he keeps thinking over and over again, eyes burning but no tears falling since his body can’t waste what little water it has on tears. ‘I’m so fucking sorry…’

He doesn’t really wait to be found anymore. Doesn’t fight it much when his consciousness slips even though he knows the risk of never waking up again is bigger than ever. He knows he doesn’t deserve to be found and rescued at this point. Not after he failed so spectacularly.

And yet despite that, he keeps waking up again and again.

And yet despite that, he keeps hoping that the next time he opens his eyes, Deku will be there. Because he… he just…

‘I’m sorry… but I… I just want to see you again…’

He wants to see Deku.

‘Please find me… I have to see you… I need to see you… please, Deku…’

~The Absolute Truth~

The next time he comes to, he thinks he hears some sort of commotion. There’s muted shouting and sounds resembling heavy objects being thrown around or broken. It takes Katsuki’s muddled brain a long moment to put together that what he’s hearing sounds an awful lot like fighting.

It takes him even longer to even begin to consider the implications of him potentially hearing a fight going on close enough for him to hear it.

The steel door to the room he’s being kept in slams open long before his mind gets far enough to put two and two together. Katsuki flinches at the sudden sound and shuts his eyes, but doesn’t react otherwise. There’s no point. He can’t fight anymore anyway. Not against the villain’s quirk and not against the villains themselves. Not in his state. Hell, it’s a miracle he still clings to life at this point given how beat up he feels, let alone clinging to consciousness.

However, he soon finds out it’s not the villains who barged into the room this time.

“Kacchan?” a familiar voice asks carefully, speaking that familiar nickname. Katsuki’s heart stutters in his chest with a mixture of hope and disbelief when he feels two fingers pressing against the side of his neck carefully, searching for a pulse. They find it, he knows, because his heart is still beating. Weakly, maybe, but it’s beating. “Kacchan, can you hear me?” the voice speaks again, calm thanks to years of experience in similar situations, as the fingers retreat. Katsuki almost whines at the loss of contact, meager as it was, and opens his eyes with difficulty.

“De… ku…?” he somehow manages to croak out before coughing again, his entire body shaking with it and sending additional waves of agony through him. He does whine in pain then. As well as his dried-out throat and cracking, nearly nonexistent voice allow, anyway.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. You’ll be ok, Kacchan,” Deku replies. Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki sees a gloved hand surrounded by green lighting reaching for his own. But instead of taking his hand, Deku grabs the chains that hold him up and crushes them easily, doing the same on his other side. The shackles still remain around Katsuki’s wrists, but with the chains shattered, he’s free.

Free to fall, that is, because the moment he loses the restraints’ support, his body slumps forward and towards the ground. Instead of the cold, unforgiving stone, however, he lands against Deku’s chest as the other hero catches his limp body. Deku is warm against him, Katsuki notes. Very warm and warmth is one of the things he’s been craving for… he doesn’t know, hours? Days? Weeks?

It doesn’t matter. Deku’s here now and he’s warm against Katsuki’s battered body.

It takes a lot more determination and energy than it should for Katsuki to move his arms, but even in his emaciated state, the blonde is nothing if not stubborn and so he pushes through until his arms are holding Deku close, his fingers clinging far more desperately to the nerd’s costume than Katsuki planned. But right now, he can’t really be bothered to care.

“D… Deku…” he tries again, wincing against the soreness of his throat and swallowing down another coughing fit. Deku’s arms are wrapped carefully around Katsuki’s own shoulders, holding him securely against the other hero’s chest. One of his hands moves then and Katsuki feels a gloved palm gently petting his hair.

“Shush. Don’t try to talk right now. It’s ok. You’ll be just fine and we can talk later, Kacchan. For now, let’s get you out of here,” Deku tells him and Katsuki just nods weakly against his shoulder where he buried his face. It’ll be ok. He can believe that.

Deku carefully maneuvers one of his arms under Katsuki’s knees and keeps the other around his shoulders, effortlessly yet carefully picking him up bridal-style. The blonde only winces a little at the movement, his hold on Deku’s costume tightening as he clings just a little bit more to him. In any other situation, Katsuki would have yelled to be put down because he could walk on his own, thank you. He would have yelled and fought to avoid the embarrassment.

But he doesn’t now. Right now, he lets Deku carry him and only clings to him, repeating the reassuring words in his mind over and over.

He’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.

When Katsuki tried to tell himself that while waiting to be found, he couldn’t always believe it. But he believes it now. Things will turn out ok because Deku found him.

Katsuki never doubted he would.

Deku always finds him, after all.