The Tourist || Kiribaku

Burning the Letter

He knew they were following him.

For the past two years, they've always been following him.

Katsuki Bakugou was confidently strolling down the streets of Paris, not even bothering to look behind him at the jet black van unmistakably belonging to the Interpol. Pretty conspicuous.

Despite the early hour, the cafés fringing the boulevard were packed with people and Bakugou himself took a sharp turn to take a seat at the prearranged place. Using his perfect French, he ordered a black coffee and glanced at the newspaper that was placed on his table. He didn't care at all about its contents but took it in his hands anyways as he cast his eye over the black van which had stopped moving. Something else caught his attention in the process - two men in suits, just like himself, across the street drinking their beverages in silence. After years of practice, it was easy for Bakugou to notice other Interpol agents, especially ever since they've been on his trail.

However, there is nothing to worry about. They can't arrest him - yet - because just like him, the agents are waiting for something.

Something that came only minutes later. A plain looking man appeared in front of the café, took a short detour to Bakugou's table, where he placed a single red envelope and disappeared just as quickly as he showed up. Bakugou took the envelope in hand and almost smiled at his first name engraved in gold. From the corner of his eye, he could see the van moving to follow the man who delivered his message. The two agents across the street still maintaining their positions.

At last, Bakugou opened the envelope.

Katsuki,

I know you have no reason to trust me anymore, but give me a chance to explain myself. We both know the police are watching you. We have to throw them off the trail.

Board the 8:22 train at the Gare de Lyon. Pick someone my height and build - make them believe it's me.

Burn this letter. It is important you follow my further instructions precisely.

I love you.

Even though there was no signature, Bakugou knew exactly who this letter came from, just like the agents who were slowly making their way to him, trying to seem ordinary.

Swiftly, he retrieved a lighter from his pocket and lit the letter on fire. The agents suddenly quickened their pace. Not fast enough.

Before they could get to him, the letter was in ashes and Bakugou blended into the crowd, making his way to the train station.