𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝚆𝙾,

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳-𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆.

There was a loud bang when the door hit the wall as you hastily unlocked it and burst through. The boy was pulled through the threshold of your shambling apartment. Another small echoed in the complex as you kicked the door shut. He felt something that could only be described as whiplash as you rushed past him and down the hall.

Unsure where else to go, he followed you into your bedroom. He watched as you dropped to your knees and dragged out a bag from under the bed. It looked already filled. It made him almost wonder if you had planned the whole operation. But, it was not so. You had stashed the bag away months ago for times like what was upon you. You threw the bag at the boy standing idly in the doorway.

"What the hell is going on?" The boy grunted as he caught the heavy bag. "And who the hell are you?" Electing to ignore his question, you rummaged around your closet before removing one of your hooded sweatshirts. You also tossed that to him.

"Put that on," You instructed.

"Not unless you answer my damn questions!" He shouted in aggravation, his volume too loud for your comfort levels. You hoped no one else in the complex could hear him. You rolled your eyes with a huff.

"My name's (Y/n) (L/n)," You introduced yourself, struggling to remain calm. "I'm trying to help you. Mind tellin' me your name, kid?"

"Katsuki Bakugo," He stated, allowing a moment to pass as he watched you breeze around the apartment. You were gathering things that were hidden in various places and Bakugo was trailing your footsteps.

"What are you doing?" He demanded to know, standing in your shadow.

"We need resources if we're gonna lay low," You explained blandly, zipping the bag harshly.

"Lay low?" His volume increased again. "No! I'm going home!"

"That's the first place they'd look for you, dumbass!" You smacked the side of his head gently, to try and let your words through his skull. You would be lying if you claimed to not feel bad for the boy. It seemed he was just a victim. He was just a child. Alas, allowing him to return to his life would only send him right back into the hands of those villains.

"Look," You sighed, "our best bet is to keep moving for now. They have us outnumbered and overpowered, so until I think of a plan, we've got to lay low."

"Our? Why would they be after you? You work for them!" He questioned, allowing one strap of the bag to sit on his shoulder. It appeared he was willing to entertain your plan.

"Why is a villain helping anyone but themselves?" The boy got on your last nerve by calling you a villain. You had never pretended to be a hero, but you were no villain either.

"I'm not a villain!" You snapped in his direction. "And frankly, I don't know why I'm saving you because right now, you don't exactly seem like you deserve to be saved." Bakugo almost flinched. You pointed at the sweatshirt draped over the bag.

"Put that on." This time, he listened. In a similar vein, you switched jackets, all the while kicking yourself for acting so impulsively. You should have weighed your options more, maybe even call in an anonymous tip to the police. Should you have listened to the part of you that begged you to not get involved? It was too early to tell.

Unfortunately, you knew one thing for sure: you had just pissed off The League of Villains. Regardless of what the right call would have been, you should have come up with a better plan.

"What's your plan?" Bakugo asked, his tone mellowed out slightly.

"I already told you," You shrugged. "Stay under the radar and figure it out from there."

"That's a shitty plan," Bakugo remarked, doubting how much of a professional you truly were. Again, you rolled your eyes.

"Well, got anything better?" You fired back with a sarcastic smile. His silence was answer enough. Bakugo would never have admitted it, but he was scared. He was terrified as you led him back down to the ground floor. The elevator ride was suffocating.

How did the villains know where the training camp was? Did they discover it on their own? Or did someone tell them? Do my classmates know what happened to me? Are they worried? Should I even trust (Y/n)? What if she changes her mind and leaves me to fend for myself?

Bakugo did not know the answer to any of the questions he asked himself. His mind was too rattled, confused, and distressed to think properly.

"If you try anything, I swear I'll fucking kill you!" Bakugo threatened you with a locked jaw. He watched as you laughed. You peered down at him with a small smirk on your face.

"Good to know we're on the same page, kid." In truth, you doubted you were capable of having the will to take his life, but you knew he lacked it too. You gestured for him to follow you out of the elevator and out of the complex.

"Keep your hood up," You told him. It would be easy for the villains to track you down if they could see his face. The streets were a bit empty that time of night, which you were thankful for. It would also be easy for the villains to find you if you took your motorcycle. You had to find another way to move quickly. Echoing similar concerns, he asked,

"Where are we going?" You knew the city, so you would find something. Well, you knew the criminal underbelly of the city.

"We need to get a car," You briefly said. He remained silent, seemingly satisfied by your answer. You hurried down the sidewalk block after block until you saw what you were looking for. The small used car dealership stood on the street corner.

In minutes, you were inside the parking lot and rapidly searching for something mundane and useable. The original plan was to hotwire the car and drive away. Alas, you had not had the opportunity--

"Why hello!" A salesman approached you. "How can I help you?" You suppressed a frustrated groan. Should you just buy a car or knock the man out? You glanced at the boy beside you, the hood of your sweatshirt hood low on his head.

"Whatever's cheapest," You mumbled. This place did not appear to be the kind of establishment that kept concrete records. You hoped it was, much like yourself, not known for asking questions. But you were pressed for time.

The salesman directed you to a small blue pick-up truck. You paid as soon as possible and he handed you the keys. No paperwork. You climbed into the front seat and started the truck's unreliable engine. Bakugo soon pulled himself into the passenger's seat. With a deep breath, you pulled out of the lot.

Then reality set in.

You're crazy. You're fuckin' crazy for doing this. What are you doing? Why take a risk like this? You don't even know why the hell The League kidnapped him in the first place!

You had not the faintest where you were headed, but you knew you could not stand still. Maybe you were crazy for painting a target on your back for a kid you did not even know. A storm was brewing and you brought it on yourself. You were going to protect the kid sitting beside you. That was the only thing you knew for sure.

𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳...