Right Here (Kiribaku Fantasy AU)

Chapter 2

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It's not like they had a destination in mind. As Uraraka put it once when she was really drunk, "we're young and kinda stupid, we better do something pretty fucking interesting before we get old and kick the bucket". Kirishima, Bakugou, Iida, Deku, and Uraraka had definitely done a lot of interesting things. They came from all different places - Bakugou from a tribe in the Southwest, Deku from a small rural cottage town, Uraraka from a nomadic tribe of sorcerers, and Iida the second son from a wealthy noble's family in the North. All of them sought adventure and a good time - and their wishes had been granted. They' had what some would call a "smashing good time" but there had been bad days. Bad people. Lots of them.

And today was going to be one of those bad days - they just didn't know it.

Poverty ran rampant in every city, every kingdom, every tiny rural town. Even here, in the middle of nowhere, there were desperate people. The group got by pretty well - Iida was fairly rich, so they could buy things if they needed, but Uraraka had the skills to make or repair most items. Kirishima, Deku, and Bakugou knew well how to hunt and gather, easily able to bring home meals at least twice a day.

And they could defend themselves too. Kirishima had even watched as Uraraka, the tiniest of the group who stood only around 5 feet tall, take down three men twice her size with a quick spell and a cracking swish of her glowing staff.

But other people in poverty tended to band together - they were desperate, needy... but they had nothing. The kingdoms and rulers did nothing to help them, only worsening their situation with taxes and other fines. the people didn't know how to hunt or gather plants - they had never been taught, they grew up totally dependant within the kingdom walls. Once they left their Kingdoms, they were on their own. They pillaged and stole from innocent travelers, sometimes even killing them in the rush to scrabble for food and provisions. Over the years, the beggars-turned-thieves became malicious, infamous, using learned tactics to find ways to best beat their victims. They usually fatally injured travelers, often slitting throats as people slept so that the victims would never report the thieves to kingdoms. They didn't want a bounty on their heads. And so tales spread of the infamous thieves, beggars that fought back.

But Kirishima and Bakugou weren't afraid of them.

So when silent thieves came over the hill that night, creeping in the night by tiny candlelight, they suspected nothing. They feared nothing.

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Bakugou's dream was strange. A large red dragon towered over him, but it wasn't Kirishima. It radiated maliciousness, from its gnashing bloodstained teeth to the sharp talons holding him in place, digging slowly into his flesh and piercing his skin. A cold panic ran through Bakugou's veins. It was the kind of feeling when you know you're doomed but can't move. The feeling you get when you're trapped, but the feeling of death looming on the horizon is grotesquely exhilarating. It was Kirishima. It had to be. It looked exactly like him. There was the small scar over the dragon's eye Bakugou had brushed his hand over so many times. The dragon's deeply piercing crimson eyes. It was definitely Kirishima, and Bakugou was about to die at his hands.

Bakugou forced himself awake. It was a dream. A random figment of his imagination. The situation was so bizarre, so cliche that Bakugou almost laughed. Guy wakes up, heart pounding, assures himself it's only a dream. dream comes true. Oh no. He thought, a silky sarcasm dripping from his mere thoughts. Bakugou looked around him. Kirishima slept soundly to his right, and Deku and the others were in a tent a little ways away. The sun hadn't risen yet, but the red fingers of dawn had already clawed its way a bit up the horizon. Bakugou closed his eyes again. I can get some sleep now, it's still early.

Soon, Bakugou's consciousness drifted a little ways away on the wind, and his whirling mind slowed to a crawling pace. The early morning was quiet, the forest making whispering small talk to itself. The birds twittered mutedly, the trees rustled. Regular stuff.

But then the sounds changed. They became the near silent rustling of dead leaves on the damp, cold ground. Bakugou was too far asleep to react to it. The sound continued, slow steps creeping against the compact soil. A slight rustling, and the quiet sound of metal against leather.

Then a sharp sound sliced through the cold morning air. A loud shout, dripping with pain and shock. Bakugou's eyes sluggishly opened, his mind moving faster than his half-awake body could. Whirling up, Bakugou's fist connected with someone's face. A gleaming dagger spun up into the air and Bakugou caught it, plunging it into the body of the person who yielded it. For a brief moment, Bakugou saw the look of shock on the young girl's face. She was pale, cheeks hollow and eyes dark with famine. The smell of death and plague lingered around her. Her pale blue eyes were wide, but she fell to the ground with barely a sound, Kirishima's provision and gold filled saddle bag thudding to the ground. Bakugou turns away from the girl and the blood staining her tattered brown shirt where she was stabbed. He can't spare a bit of remorse for this girl, no matter the reason she did it.

Kirishima breathed heavily on the floor, hands twitching and eyes half open. His mouth opened and shuts, words unable to come out. Blood ran down his neck to the floor, a sickening shade of too-dark red. The red of his lips, his eyes, his hair seems to be rapidly dulling as life seems to leech out of him. This isn't a dream, is it? Bakugou's head spun. It's not a dream, yet his mind was still floating, suspended in water and stuffed with cotton. He knew he should call for Uraraka, Deku, Iida, someone who could help... but there was nothing in his mind. Nothing but the gasping man in front of him. Nothing but the blood falling to the cold earth.

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