On the Run

New Information

Edited 3/15/2022

Bakugo fidgeted, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was alone in the living room, doing nothing. (Y/N) was at work, doing whatever. He didn't care. The heroes were upstairs, doing something he didn't bother knowing about.

Normally, he would be in the kitchen, whipping up something interesting. He was used to experimenting in his kitchen on his off days and was feeling withdrawals. Sometimes it was baking, or creating a new, much better recipe for something.

He glanced between the stairs and the house entrance. You weren't going to be home just yet, so he quickly got up from the couch, cracking his knuckles.

He checked your cabinets, and his eyes widened. There was seasoning, everywhere. Things from garlic powder to bagel seasonings, it was all in there. 

But he wasn't impressed just yet. 

He checked your knife block, pulling out your biggest knife. He inspected it, running his finger against the rim carefully

Hm. Sharp, he thought. There was one more thing he had to check. He stalked carefully to your fridge, closing his eyes. When he opened it, he saw the juiciest, biggest, bright red bell pepper he'd ever seen. 

Bakugo could cry out of joy.

A rare smile sat on his face as he brought out soy sauce, curry powder, carrots, chicken breasts, and other foods. He got to work, chopping the chicken breasts and carrots. He heated the stove on low, bringing out frying pans.

This is what he missed. Peace, the sizzling of the vegetables. This was life.

"What're you doing?"

He jumped, cursing loudly. There you were, arms crossed, leaning against the kitchen entryway.

Bakugo had never been so embarrassed. His cheeks were hot and red, and he nicked his finger on the knife.

"Shit!" He shook his hand, sucking on his finger.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Fuck off. You didn't fucking scare me."

You rolled your eyes. You went into the cabinet, pulling out a first aid kit.

"Here," you said, pulling out a brown bandaid. He snatched it from you, glaring as he wrapped his finger.

"So, what are you doing?"

"None of your business."

"Well, it looks like you're cooking, which is surprising considering who you are," you commented, looking into his pan. 

"The fuck do you mean by that?!"

"I just didn't think you'd be the type to be in the kitchen."

"I'm getting real fucking tired of your slick comments. Shut the fuck up talking to me."

You drew in a long breath. "Ok."

You stood there in the kitchen, not saying a word. You just watched. Bakugo moved around the kitchen, keenly aware of your presence. He found it creepy how you just watched.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"You're fucking watching me."

You shrugged. 

He huffed at your silence, going back to cooking. You moved closer, watching as he cooked. You were impressed. You weren't lying when you thought he wasn't the type to be in the kitchen. He gave off fragile masculinity vibes at first.

You sighed. That wasn't right of you.

"I'm sorry."

Bakugo's eyes widened. "The fuck you just say?"

"I said I'm sorry," you scratched the back of your neck. "I've been a little mean and judgemental towards you."

Bakugo looked away, shrugging. "Whatever."

"Whatever?" you questioned. He nodded, turning back to the stove. Your brows furrowed, then you shrugged. You take a few steps forward, then several backward.

While he cooked, you made yourself useful by washing the utensils that he used. The kitchen dissolved into a comfortable silence.

"It's done," Bakugo called out. 

"Sweet." You went to grab a plate when Bakugo snatched your arm. You looked up confused.

"We need to talk."

"About?"

"About that night with the brats."

Your eyes widened at the memory. You steeled your expression, shaking your hand from his grasp. You crossed your arms.

"What about it?"

"What happened?"

"I told you. Oliver had a nightmare, his quirk freaked out, and I took care of it."

Bakugo raised a brow at your defensiveness. "What type of fucking nightmare is that then, huh?"

"That's none of your business. He didn't tell me anyway, so."

"What type of fucking quirk does he have?"

You sighed. "You really aren't going to let this go are you?"

"Absolutely fucking not."

You huffed. "He has psychic powers. He has telepathy and telekinesis. He doesn't have control over it, so his emotions are really harsh on it."

Bakugo nodded. He understood why his quirk freaked out now.

"What about the other one?"

"She doesn't have one yet. Can we eat now?"

...

"What do you mean they aren't there?! They should've been there weeks ago!" Chikao shouted. 

Giichi flinched. "Our informants say that the person to pick them up was late, and when he arrived, the trailer was empty."

You can't trust people to do shit.

Chikao slammed her hands on the table. "Well, why was he late?!"

The brothers looked at each other. Genkei's emotionless expression made her blood boil.

"What are you not telling me?!"

"You tell her," Giichi squeaked.

"Pussy," Genkei mumbled. He sighed, preparing himself. "Your father passed away, miss."

Chikao froze.

Her father?

"Is this some sick prank?"

Genkei shook his head. "He was murdered. The killer had been found driving away. One of the important heroes found him and is in police custody."

Chikao's hands started to shake. Her eyes burned, and her breath became short.

Her father? Dead. The heroes she was supposed to protect? Unknown. 

She needed to find them. Immediately.

Japan was deteriorating fast. The citizens themselves couldn't see it. But when you dabble in a little darkness, you notice the dark and grey areas. The whispers in the alleys, weapons going missing, people going missing. She wasn't sure what was brewing, but she knew it wasn't good.

"Who are they?"

The brothers glanced at each other in confusion. "They?"

"Who was the hero?"

Genkei checked his phone. "Pro hero Terra, miss."

Her brows knitted together. "We'll have to pay her a visit. To give our thanks."  

End. Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to vote and comment. Have a good day/night.