Death Paradox 💥BAKUDEKU💥

Chapter 15

Part 2

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Chapter 15

Katsuki ran a hand over his face, trying to calm the raging storm in his head, but it wasn't working. Nothing ever worked when he was this pissed. He stood there watching as the two departed, the paper crumpling in his other hand, heart thudding in his chest. Damn it, Deku. Of course that nerd had already started piecing things together—always a step ahead in the weirdest, most annoying ways. And now this. A fucking sword, tied to these stupid riddles. One half in stone somewhere near the citadel, and the other... Goddamn it. He should've seen it earlier. Should've known.

He grit his teeth, rubbing harder at his eyes as if he could somehow scrub the frustration away. But it didn't help. Nothing would, not until he got his hands on that stupid sword.

And the worst part? He'd been in Shadowrend, looking for that fucking sword.

When he'd woken up in this godforsaken reality, he'd been right there. Practically on top of the sword—assuming it was at Doomspire—or at least close enough that he could've gotten it if he'd known what the hell was going on. And now? He'd crossed the entire damn Mythic Sea—through storms, monsters, and whatever other bullshit this world had thrown at him—only to find himself chasing after Deku and the stupid Minor Arcana in a completely different land.

Katsuki let out a sharp, bitter laugh, more like a bark than anything. He lowered his hand, staring blankly at the crumpled scroll. If Deku thinks the swords were tied to the cards, nine times out of ten his intuition was on the damn money. And fuck, the damn thing his other self had been after was the Major. He knew that now. And that's why he'd been so drawn to it, the moment he'd stepped foot in Shadowrend. That pull, that itch under his skin—it wasn't random. It was fate or whatever. He'd been supposed to get it. It was his.

Now, he had to go back.

After he catches Izuku and got the Minor Arcana, he'd have to haul ass all the way back to Shadowrend, where he should've stayed in the first place.

A low chuffing sound came from behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts. Kirishima had been quiet for a while now, giving Katsuki space to stew, but that sound—almost like a low, warning growl—was his way of reminding Katsuki he was still there. Waiting. Watching.

Katsuki didn't even turn around. He didn't want to deal with it. He knew exactly what was coming. Katsuki wasn't being straight with him. And right now? Katsuki wasn't in the mood to have that conversation.

"Let's go," he barked, shoving the crumpled paper into his pouch and marching toward Kirishima's massive form. "We need to get to the Citadel, catch up with the idiot, and get this crap sorted. No time to waste."

But Kirishima didn't move.

Katsuki stopped short, scowling. "Oi, I said let's go!" he snapped, turning to glare up at his dragon, the tension in his body sharp and obvious.

Kirishima, towering over him, stared back, his golden eyes narrowed, his massive body still as stone. Then, he showed his teeth, the barest hint of a snarl curling at the edges of his maw. It wasn't a threat—not really—but it was a warning. And Katsuki knew it.

"I'm not moving," Kirishima growled, his voice deep and rumbling, "until you tell me what the hell is going on."

He felt a flicker of something sharper than just anger—a deeper tension that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned fully now, sizing up massive dragon that refused to move, fists clenched at his sides.