ALWAYS || Katsuki Bakugo

76- Past Life

Recommended song: last november- by mgk

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Daisuke stared at Yoshiko with empty eyes. He wiped his cheek. When did the tears come out? She had gone out cold, still standing because of the chains attached to either side of the wall. Her shirt had torn in places where the whip hit her, revealing caked blood. Her head was thrown back with steaks of tears on her face, eyes open ever so slightly as silver eyes stared into nothingness.

He did this to her.

"Tch, she's out." Shizuka clicked his tongue, "never seen a brat so persistent."

"I'll fucking kill you," Daisuke growled. Shizuka looked at him and smiled ear to ear. He cackled, "Oh, don't you wish you could?"

Shizuka took the whip from him and gave it to Makoto, who folded it and held it in his closed fist. He walked towards the door and glanced back, "Don't remove her chains." With that, he left.

Daisuke sank with his back to the wall, looking at the damage he caused on her back. It was going to leave scars. He hurt his own sister, and she'd carry the scars as proof to haunt him for the rest of her life. He held his head in his hands and spent the next few hours in dead silence.

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Hawks stood atop a building, letting his feathers spread across the area. He closed his eyes, listening to what his feathers picked up. Footsteps, workers going about their day, sirens, arguments, and some voices from hero students he recognised, but no Yoshiko. He exhaled loudly and pushed his golden hair back. Everyone wanted her home. Her mother barely closed an eye through these four weeks-- a month. Her friends worked relentlessly to track down this group who'd kidnapped her and continued killing the quirkless. Yet, no progress.

Hawks brought his feathers back to his wings when his phone vibrated. He took it out of his pocket to see a text from Officer Tsukauchi asking if he could call. Without a reply, Hawks clicked the call button, "Good morning, Tsukauchi-san."

"Good morning, Hawks." Tsukauchi greeted, "We got a call from someone working at the MOQ a few minutes back. A lady claimed to see a man with dark brown hair and eyes. She saw a scar on his forehead when he pushed his hair back while getting out of his car."

Hawks' eyes widened. The description matched with the man a survivor had told them about, "Any other details?"

"Yes, I asked the lady what time it was when she saw him get in the car. She told us he'd just arrived for work, and it was around nine A.M."

"Brilliant." Hawks breathed, "The ministry has a 9-5 shift. I have a plan. We'll get one of the students to act like they're handing out leaflets and install a tracker on his clothes. That way, we can see where he goes."

"That was quick. Sounds great. Please let us know your findings."

"I will. Thank you for the information." Hawks hung up and took flight. They were going to get her back. He was going to ask a few of the not-so-well-known hero students to dress as café workers, have them hand leaflets outside the MOQ and subtly install a tracker onto him. He could use his feathers, but he wasn't good at picking up signals from them if they got too far, "We're comin' for you, Oreo. Hang in there just a little longer."

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Hawks stood in a ginormous room with other heroes, watching where the man went on the screen. The students had successfully shoved a bunch of leaflets onto him, and one of the boys stuck a small tracker under his collar by slinging an arm around his shoulder and telling him about the drop in prices at this imaginary café.