𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴,

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳-𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆...

"How did she pay for it?" Detective Tsukauchi asked intently.

"In cash," The salesman stated. His tone indicated he was remorseful and his words were followed by a heavy sigh. He knew full well this was going to ruin his carefully built reputation. Detective Tsukauchi quickly jotted down what the man said onto his notepad, as he had been doing since the start of the conversation.

"As soon as I saw those news reports on TV, I knew I had to call it in," The salesman admitted, keeping his head low to avoid eye contact. "I can't imagine what his poor parents are going through. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost my little girl." Detective Tsukauchi looked at the man sympathetically.

"That's exactly why we're trying to find him, and it's the empathy of people like you who make that possible," Detective Tsukauchi explained gently, "so thank you. Do you have the license plate number?"

"I think so, let me check." The man stepped away to search for it. Eventually, he found an old sheet of paper and gave it to the detective. The paper detailed the numbers of the temporary license plate issued to newly purchased cars.

Each number was accompanied by a specific car model and color. The salesman pointed to one particular number on the list.

"That's what she bought." Detective Tsukauchi wrote the information down. This would make it so much easier to track down whoever was holding Bakugo hostage.

"Can you tell us anything else about that night?" Detective Tsukauchi wondered.

"It was just the kid and the woman," He recalled, scratching the back of his neck. "She didn't look like she was armed or anything, I thought he was her son or something." Detective Tsukauchi nodded his head.

"Do you remember what this woman looked like?" He questioned.

"Yeah, kinda," The man shrugged his shoulders. "She looked like a regular person, nothing screamed villain, ya know? (H/l) (h/c) hair, she wore a baseball cap and casual clothes. Maybe in her thirties. Same height as me, I think." The detective thanked the man again for his testimony before he left.

Detective Tsukauchi was hurriedly bringing this new information to the rest of the investigation team. They were on the lookout for a blue pick-up truck, and the best part was, they had the license plate number. Although he was careful not to get his hopes up, Detective Tsukauchi was confident that this was going to be much easier than he initially thought.

...

It was a sleepless night for both parties in the motel room. There was this nagging feeling that made you lay with your guard up, just in case. The kid's safety suddenly meant more than before. Bakugo failed to sleep for similar reasons, bar the strange pit in his stomach. Perhaps it was homesickness that began to set in. But now that the night was passed, it was time to figure out your next move.

"We can't stay in one place for too long," You told Bakugo in the morning. "We should keep moving for now, or at least until it's safe enough to bring you back to UA."

"I never told you--" Bakugo interrupted in confusion.

"The story's all over the news," You quickly explained. You needed to think about your next move carefully. You stood up from the bed, hauling the duffle bag over your shoulder.

"Come on," You ordered to your young companion as you headed for the door.

"Where are we going?" He asked, rising to his feet soon after you had.

"Breakfast," You stated plainly. "I can't do shit on an empty stomach, and be sure you don't leave anything behind, we won't be coming back." Bakugo rolled his eyes. Something told you he did not like taking orders, let alone from someone he so closely associated with villains.

Soon, you found yourselves sitting in a small diner tucked away in the inner city. Anyone who entered could tell it was old, but you supposed that was what gave it charm. Bakugo was sure to keep his head down and his hood up, even once you sat down in the far corner of the building.

"I might actually come back here," You said off-handedly when you discovered how good their food tasted. "Under less strenuous circumstances, of course."

"I don't think I've ever been in this part of the city before," Bakugo stated. He seemed to relax ever so slightly.

"You're not missing much," You told him with a smirk. "It's a shithole, really. You wouldn't believe how many times scrawny crackheads have tried to mug me."

"Any of 'em ever succeed?" Bakugo asked, his eyes wandering across the diner.

"Hell no," You instantly responded with a scoff. "Okay, maybe once, but that was back in middle school." Bakugo thought you were acting odd this morning. You were being open, casually speaking as if you were long-time friends. He could not help but wonder why you behaved this way.

Is she less tense than before because there's some distance between us and The League of Villains now? Or, maybe you were just starting to warm up to Bakugo, in the same way he was starting to warm up to you. There were a lot of things he wanted to know about you. But, he did not get the time to ask during breakfast.

A firm hand was placed on the table next to where you sat. You looked up to find a man you did not recognize in the slightest.

"Excuse me," He began, "I've been sent by--"

"I'm sorry, can I help you?" You interrupted, returning your gaze to your plate. He leaned closer, removing his sunglasses. You were not sure which stereotypical action movie he had just left, but he was starting to aggravate you.

"I work for Mr. Hiroto," He said in a hushed tone. "He'd like to have a word, so you're going to have to come with me." You looked up at him again, quiet anger behind your eyes. You cocked an eyebrow. Your eyes swiftly scanned the building. As you did so, it became apparent there were three others who worked with him.

"I'll admit, you made the right call bringing backup," You spoke quietly, both of your hands resting on the table next to the silverware. "But, I don't think you brought enough." 

In a heartbeat, you had grabbed the knife from the table and plunged it into the crook of the man's neck. Your sudden movement alerted his coworkers, as well as everyone else in the diner. A waitress screamed and customers began to scramble for cover.

You took the back of the man's head and slammed his face onto the table, knocking the table over, while the two other men rushed to where you now stood. Bakugo had bolted to his feet, but before he could make another move--

"Don't use your quirk," You told him sternly, knowing damn well it would only give you both away. You grabbed one of the men's jackets and shoved him into the his co-worker's body. You waved for Bakugo to leave the building and go back to the truck. He hesitated but eventually ran out by the time a gun was drawn.

You caught the man's dominant hand as he pulled out his weapon and pushed his arm upwards, causing him to shoot the ceiling instead of you. With one foot firmly planted on the ground, you used the other to forcefully strike the other man's gun out of his hand. It was clear these were amateurs.

With a secure grip on the man's wrist, you twisted his arm backward, forcing him to eventually land on his knees. You landed a swift kick to the other man's face, making him stumble back. Before the man on his knees could register what happened, you had picked up a chair and hit him on the side of the head with it, knocking him out. The chair then collided with the other's face, courtesy of your throwing it in his direction.

After you sprinted out of the exit, you grabbed Bakugo's jacket collar, noticing that instead of waiting in the truck, he had watched the brief fight. Tossing him into the passenger seat, you started the engine, eager to escape while you still had the chance.

𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳...