Picture Perfect Model {BakuDeku}

Chapter 30

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"Exhausted, huh?"

"Mnh.." Izuku responded, and Katsuki fondly chuckled, brushing his knuckles on his temple. "Sleep then, Izuku. I'll grab some water." He tugged himself from Izuku's grasp, earning a frustrated huff, and Katsuki grinned. "Love you, dumbass." "Mh.. Love you too-" the greenette yawned, burying his bare body into the covers, a smile on his face. "-Kacchan.."

"Great. I'll be back."

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Katsuki padded blindly through the kitchen, fumbling the fridge open, half asleep and bleary. "Fuck," he muttered as the fridge had the audacity to blind him with it's bright ass light when he opened it.

He pushed aside soda bottles, grabbing a pitcher full of water and draining one-twelfths of the content into his glass, hands clammy from the cold. Then he thought of Izuku's warmth, and suddenly he felt like he wanted to just get back and sleep in his arms.

A nice thought, he hummed, tipping his glass into his mouth.

A sudden, freezing prickle ran up his back.

"Better not scream."

A crash, two bangs, and then silence.

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"Katsuki Bakugou.. Kidnapped four hours ago at two AM. He's a big-shot, a model to be precise. Parents are important in the fashion industry."

Naomasa clenched his fists. "Someone had slipped through the open window."

"And that someone is crazy enough to climb thirty floors on nothing but ropes attached to the building's satellite dish." The chief commander added, slipping out a file; pictures filling it.

Broken glass all over the floor, the fridge open, and the window wide open to let the air- and someone big enough to fit- inside. The officers looked stoic, serious, writing down on notepads and making calls, fumbling around.

"We're looking for someone between 4'11 to 5'7, body type lithe, slim- most likely a female because of this. Someone with some kind of  obsessive disorder- and definitely the kind of criminal who doesn't hesitate."

"An experienced one too. Can't be their first offense. They have experience in this, making them dangerous if they have accomplices."

Naomasa snapped his fingers, thumbing through the files fast, track other hand writing things down. "Gin, pull up every single person who has checked into a psychiatric ward on the past six years. Narrow it down to people with an obsessive disorder- or someone who has been in prison before- maybe a mental asylum."

Naomasa felt the pressure increase, hearing the rookie shout "yes sir!" Before scampering off, the office buzzing with so much energy. "If you don't mind me asking, Tsukauchi- what's happened to Midoriya-San?" Their intern twiddled their thumbs nervously, looking up at him with questioning eyes, and Naomasa turned slightly apprehensive.

"He's.. Taking it too well."

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"Midoriya-san.. You don't have to-!"

"But I want to." Izuku's statement was final, tight, as he slipped on a bullet proof vest. An unnerving expression on his face turned seething. "Because I'll kill the bastards myself."

Naomasa gaped at him. "But you.. You don't have any training! Could you even handle a gun-"

"Excuse me, Tsukauchi-san. I've seen my fair share of scuffles when I was a child." Izuku looked at him, viridian eyes burning with controlled anger. Naomasa felt frustration bubble up. "I was from Hosu's underbelly. Used to be deep down in that rotting hell, and both of us know goddamn well that in order to survive that cursed place you have to know how to get around."

The weight settled in Izuku's stomach at snapping at Naomasa, but he didn't show it. Instead, he glared harder. "I know how to operate a simple goddamn pistol. Besides, I'm coherent enough to know not to bury a bullet deep into someone's skull at first try."

There was so convincing the man anymore. ".. Alright," Tsukauchi relents. "Do not take off the vest. We don't want you dying."

Izuku's face darkened. "Don't worry. I've got things under control."

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"Someone sent something to the top hotline. Check it out."

Shinsou pressed the button, a replay one, playing the recorded voice on voicemail. Tsukauchi's nerves were still frazzled, gripping the chair so tightly that his coworker feels he may break it. His knuckles were white, and his face was ghostly pale but mostly collected.

It crackled, once-

"Greetings. I know where the boy is. Go straight to the bar, downtown Hosu. The Old Shack. He is kept there.

Please. Do not hurt them too much."

Naomasa's eyes widened. "The-"

"Already dispatched. Midoriya-san tagged along. He's serious about this, Detective." Shinsou faced Naomasa, face hardening. "I've heard from your conversation with him.. Midoriya-"

"-lived in Hosu as a kid, had experience. He practically confessed that he had committed crimes." Tsukauchi interrupted him, eyes boring into the telephone. "He's not completely innocent?" Shinsou was surprised, placing down his bottle of water beside his desk.

"None of us are, Hitoshi." Naomasa had a Grim look on his face. "None of us are."

———

Somewhere in Hosu, Kurogiri put down the telephone. He shook.

It may cost him his freedom, his life at this bar but..

He winced at the scream, so inhuman and full of pain and fear, followed by Toga's manic giggles.

"Maybe, this once," Kurogiri closed his eyes, slipping a pistol in his pocket, a sullen look on his wizened cheeks.

"I'll be doing something right."