selfish | bakugo x reader

Chapter 23

Aizawa took one long look at Bakugo then at Y/N, and pinched the bridge of his nose like he can physically press the headache out of his system. The meeting room hums with projected maps and security schematics, but the air in the room has gone tense.

"Risky is an understatement," he said flatly. "But if Maskara is as arrogant as the reports suggest, he'll bite."

Bakugo planted both hands on the table, leaning over the layout like he wants to challenge the whole board to a fight. "He will," he snapped. "He wants her, and he thinks she'll fold the second he shows his ugly face. We use that."

Aizawa's yellowed eyes slide to Y/N. "And you understand the cost if this goes wrong?"

Bakugo cut in before it can become a lecture. "She knows. That's why she's here. We're not improv-ing this shit."

Present Mic, unusually serious, pointed at the perimeter routes. "Then we make the bait look convincing, but keep the net invisible. Decoys. Hidden response teams. Radio silence until the snare closes."

Recovery Girl, arms folded, gives Bakugo a sharp, knowing look. "And you are not to let your temper blow the operation apart."

He scowled. "Tch. I'm not the problem. The problem is that bastard breathing." Then, after a beat, he tapped the map with one finger. "We set the time for when he's most likely to move. Hit his patterns, draw him in. Y/N stays mobile, never alone, and if he even sneezes wrong, I'm already on him."

Aizawa exhaled through his scarf. "Fine. We draft the plan. But if either of you go off-script, I shut it down myself." He straightened. "Let's make sure Maskara walks into UA thinking he's hunting prey."

Mr. Mamoru interrupted, "But he will suspect something. If Ms. Y/N stepped out unattended, it will look staged. It will look as if we are trapping him." He stood up, "Allow me to be Ms. Y/N's way out."

"I am able to leave the premises no problem. I can pretend to come back to the syndicate and tell them I apologize. I can bring her back." He continued.

Y/N looked at her guardian's eyes, "It's too dangerous, Mr. Mamoru."

"Yes but it's the only way." He answered grimly.

He paced the small room, the scent of nitro filling the cramped space. He hated that the old man is right. Maskara isn't a moron; he knows UA doesn't just lose track of its assets.

A betrayal from the inside is the only story that sells.

"Tch." Bakugo stopped, his back to the group, shoulders hunched. He turned just enough to fix Mamoru with a look that could melt steel. "If you screw this up, if you let them touch her for even a second before we spring the trap, there won't be enough left of you to bury."

Aizawa let out a deep breath again, "We don't threaten our allies, Bakugo."

Bakugo ignired him, shifting his gaze to Y/N, his expression uncharacteristically strained. "I'm gonna be in your shadow. I don't care if I have to hide in a damn sewer pipe or crawl through the vents. If he tries to drag you off, I'm blowing the whole block."

"Bakugo, you'll be the backup," Aizawa interjected again, his voice gravelly. "But Mamoru, if you do this, you're on your own until the signal. Can you handle that?"

"I've served the family long enough to know how to lie to them," Mr. Mamoru said quietly.

Bakugo ground his teeth, his fingers twitching. "I don't like it. But if it gets that bastard in my sights  fine." He looks at Y/N, his voice dropping to a low, jagged warning. "Don't you dare leave my comms range. Not for a second."

The air in the Musutafu industrial district is thick with salt and rot. Mr. Mamoru did his job, he led Y/N out of UA. Far from the alarms and far from the Pro Heroes. Y/N stood by the rusted railing of the pier, waiting. Behind her, Mr. Mamoru waited, his posture hunched, a man playing the part of a broken servant returning to his master with a prize.

"He's here," Mr Mamoru whispered. He could feel his hands tremble.

Hidden three stories up in a gutted cooling tower, Bakugo crouched in the dark. He's stripped his hero gear of anything reflective, his breathing shallow and controlled. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm he suppressed with sheer willpower.

Through his earpiece, the silence is deafening.

Come on, you piece of trash, Bakugo thought, his fingers poised over his palms. Take the bait so we can end you.

A heavy, unnatural chill settles over the pier. From the fog, a tall, jagged silhouette emerged. Maskara. The villain's eyes glow with a sickening, familiar light as they lock onto Y/N.

"My little bird," Maskara's voice hummed, echoing off the iron crates. "I knew you'd come home."

Bakugo's jaw aches from clenching. His sweat is pooling, rich and volatile. One more step, he silently snarls. Just one more step into the kill zone.

Y/N lifted her gaze. Father.

All her life, she knew him as her father. The man who kept her hidden from the world, the man who made her heal all of his cronies and made her believe they were his family.

Maskara laid his eyes on her, a smirk on his lips before he turned to Mr. Mamoru. "I never forget." He said with that velvet tone, directed at the traitor who took Y/N away.

She didn't know what she expected but it wasn't this.

There was a blast and Mr. Mamoru fell to the ground. Y/N's scream broke through the deathly silence of the pier, seeing blood spurt out of Mr. Mamoru's forehead.

"No! No!" Y/N ran to the body jerking on the ground. "No!"

She couldn't do anything. Not for Mr. Mamoru who took care of her.

Maskara just killed him.

The world turned white in Bakugo's vision. The plan, the caution, the "wait for the signal", it all disintegrated the moment the gunshot cracks through the air. Seeing Mr. Mamoru drop and hearing her scream triggers something primal and violent in his chest.

The tower exploded as Bakugo launched himself like a missile. He doesn't use a standard blast, he used a massive, concentrated propulsion burst that shatters the windows of the surrounding warehouses.

He streaked through the air, a blur of orange and black, landing between Y/N and Maskara. Bakugo doesn't wait for the smoke to clear. He's already upright, his face a mask of fury, both palms leveled directly at Maskara's chest at point-blank range.

"You touched her people," Bakugo's voice is a guttural, terrifying roar, his palms glowing a blinding, incandescent white. "Now I'm gonna erase you from the map!"

He doesn't look back at Y/N, but his left arm swept out, a protective barrier of heat and muscle. "Get back, Y/N! Don't look at the old man! Stay behind me!"

"AP SHOT: AUTO-CANNON!"

A rapid-fire succession of piercing blasts erupts from his hands, a relentless storm of fire designed to shred anything in its path. He isn't holding back for a capture. He's fighting to kill.