When Katsuki and I arrive to the address we were given, to report our findings to the government officials, we're met with the sight of a couple of men leaving the building. The three Japanese agents we saw last time are standing in the doorway.
One of the men leaving turns back. "Make no mistake; Henry Johnson will pay for what he's done. What he's done is considered a war crime. You'll have to hand him over to us sooner or later." With that, they leave.
"What the hell was that?" Katsuki growls at the Japanese agents.
"Those were officials from the Iraqi embassy. They're claiming Johnson to be a war criminal, but as far as we know, he's never stepped out on to the field. They've clearly got the wrong man." One of the men says.
Again, the look in Katsuki's eyes tells me he's picked up on something. As the agents go back inside, he tugs on my arm, and whispers in my ear, "Bullshit. They're lying."
"How do you know?" I hiss back.
"In our first meeting, they slipped on their ass and called him 'General'. They're trying to cover something up. He was obviously involved in combat."
"The plot thickens," I murmur, with a flick of my eyebrow.
-----
"Sorry for disturbing you," I ask the lady at Mr Johnson's house, the next day, after we spent yesterday patrolling around his house, "but has anyone asked for Mr Johnson here before?"
"Well..." she frowns, "there was a brunette young lady, about a day ago, who had a red pin on her shirt, who came and asked if he lived here."
"What was she wearing?" Katsuki questions instantly.
"It was the uniform for the local hospital. You'd recognise it; it's down the road, just a few blocks from here. I don't know why she asked though."
"I see. Thank you for your help," I say, and walk out with Katsuki. "So," I muse, "the translator isn't a translator, there's a young woman following him, and... daffodils. How intriguing."
"Yeah yeah," Katsuki grumbles, "we just have to protect the fucker. That's all."
I frown, "Katsuki, he's clearly not who he says he is. And he's obviously a bit of a bastard. Don't you feel the need to expose him?"
"We're not the fucking police!" Katsuki barks.
"C'monnnn!" I whine, tugging on his arm. "I've got an idea. If we can go to the hospital, since it's nearing it's shift change, and then we can go and see that young brunette woman!"
"There could be loads of young brunette women!"
"She had a red pin, remember?" I tug on his arm again. "C'mon, Katsuki! Please??"
"You're not taking this seriously enough." He growls pulling his arm away.
My hopeful expression drops, and I look away. "Fine." I start walking away, in the direction of the hospital, "I'll go by myself."
There's a pause, and then Katsuki comes running after me, and cusses me out loudly, telling me that I'm overthinking this and it's not part of the job. "Why are you even so invested in this?!" he demands to know.
"Because something's clearly not right," I answer, "and karma's a bitch. Not the assassination classroom one."
"Fucking weeb..."
"Shut up! You've agreed to watch anime with me before!"
-----
"There!" I point at a young woman, with a red pin on her shirt, "That's the one."
"I didn't actually think she'd show up..." Katsuki mutters in confusion.
"Come on!" I say excitedly, and I tug him out on to the pavement, from the building we were hiding behind. We follow the woman all the way to an apartment block; when she walks inside, we wait, and then walk inside, where there's thankfully a reception desk.
"Do you know the nurse that lives here? Where's her apartment?" Katsuki asks the poor guy at the desk abruptly.
I die a little inside; at least retain some of your manners!
"Umm..." the guy stutters, "you mean Miss Rajab? She's on the fourth floor, apartment twenty six."
Rajab... that's an Arabic reason if I'm not mistaken. Considering the fact he is an American that served in the war, I guess that might be a motive... but why the daffodil?
"Come on!" Katsuki grunts, and pulls me towards the elevator.
As we step inside, and all of a sudden, I feel a bit sick. Maybe I'm getting in over my head about this... this is government stuff after all.
I jump, when Katsuki's hand finds mine. "Didn't you say you want to figure out what's going on?" he asks, "Don't start pussy-footing now."
I nod firmly, and then we step out when it reaches the correct floor, and we find the apartment with relative ease. The young brunette woman answers it, with a polite, "Yes?"
Shit. I didn't think this bit through.
"Umm... we're um, from a Hero agency, and umm... we want to ask you some questions," I sputter out.
The woman nods in confusion, and then lets us in; she takes a seat at her kitchen table, and we sit opposite. "How can I help you?" she asks softly, a slight Arabic accent in her voice.
"What's your name and where are you from, first of all?" I ask.
"I'm Meera Rajab. I'm from Iran." She replies, stunning complacent.
"Umm... why were you at He--oof!" Katsuki elbows me, and as I hiss in pain, he cuts me off.
"Why were you at Karasuma Aka's house?" he questions, and I realise with humiliation I almost spilled the American's real name.
"Well... actually, my sister told me to ho, after she saw him, a couple of days ago." She answers.
"Your sister?"
"Yes, my sister Fatima. She lives with me; has been doing for the past six years. She served in the Iran-Iraq-American war, so she's a little unstable. I don't know much about it to be honest... all I know was that she was shot in her head."
"Where was she stationed?" I ask curiously.
"As far as I know, her last mission, which is where she got her injury, was in a small rural village behind enemy lines, near the border of Kurdistan. She was with the Iraqis,"
"The Iraqis?" Katsuki frowns, "I thought that they were only victims of the war."
"Well, yes," Meera mumbles, "but there were also fractions of the population that supported the Iranians. Fatima was the translator for their group, so they could understand what the Americans were saying. To be honest... I don't know what happened there. But she never talks about it. In fact, she went missing a day ago."
"Any idea where she might've gone?" I ask slowly.
"Well... to deal with her trauma, she was sent to a special centre, in the west part of the city. It was very kind of them to set it up, in Japan... we moved here to get away from all the memories, but it seems to have come back to her now."
Katsuki and I exchange a nod; we know where we'll be going next, it seems.
A/n: Y'ALL WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HETALIA??? I JUST STARTED WATCHING AND I DON'T KNOW WHETHER TO LAUGH, CRY, BE ANGRY OR BE CONFUSED-
WHY DID YOUTUBE RECCOMEND "HETALIA OUT OF CONTEXT" IN THE FIRST PLACE??? WHAT DID I SEARCH TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA THAT I'D WANT TO WATCH THIS???... PASTAAAAAAAAaaAAAAaAaaaAaaAAAAA~
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A Series Of Incidents (Katsuki Bakugou x reader)
FanfictionYou and Katsuki are friends... at least you think you are. He's making it difficult to come to a proper decision. On top of that, your second year at UA is pressurizing to say the least, you spend 50% of your night watching vine videos, and you hav...