Katsuki Bakugo | Dynamight

The sound of your body slamming into the fire escape was sickening—metal on bone, a wet crunch that echoed through the narrow alley. Katsuki landed hard on the rain-slick asphalt a second later, boots skidding as he caught his balance.

Months. He'd been hunting you for months, chasing shadows through Musutafu's back streets, always one step behind your hit-and-run attacks on civilians. His team fed him leads, tracked your patterns, narrowed down locations. He did the rest—boots on the ground, explosions in the air, closing in. You were smart—he'd give you that. Smart enough to make his life a living hell.

But not smart enough.

The alley reeked of rotting garbage and stagnant water from the afternoon's downpour. His crimson eyes swept the cramped space, taking in overflowing dumpsters and fire escapes that looked ready to collapse. You were crumpled against the rusty metal grating, head tilted at an angle that made his stomach clench. Unconscious, but breathing.

Finally.

He was reaching for his quirk-suppressing cuffs when something made him freeze. A strange pulling sensation in his pinky finger, as if someone was gently pulling an invisible thread.

"What the hell?" He pulled off his glove, staring at his hand in disbelief.

The faded red thread that had sat dormant for twenty-six years—so long he'd almost forgotten it existed—was now glowing. Actually glowing, bright as fresh blood, stretching across his skin and disappearing into the air. But instead of fading into nothingness like it always had, he could see where it led.

Straight down. To you.

No fucking way.

His heart slammed against his ribs as he followed the glowing line with his eyes. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not like this. Not with you.

He dropped to one knee beside your unconscious form, rough hands grabbing your arm and shoving up your sleeve. There it was—the other end of his thread, wrapped around your pinky like a crimson ring, pulsing in perfect sync with his own heartbeat.

The universe's idea of a joke, apparently.

A sound ripped from his throat—half laugh, half growl, all rage. His soulmate. His destined person. The one fate deemed perfect for him. Was a goddamn villain who'd spent months making innocent people's lives miserable.

The irony was so thick he could choke on it.

He should call this in. Radio for pickup, get you processed and shipped off to Tartarus where you belonged. That was his job. His duty as a hero.

But if anyone found out about the bond...

"Pro Hero Dynamight's Soulmate Revealed to be Notorious Villain"

The headlines would destroy everything he'd worked for. Every sacrifice, every brutal training session, every moment of doubt he'd pushed through to get here—all of it would become a punchline. Those fucking vultures in the media would tear him apart. They'd question his judgment, scream to the world that he couldn't be trusted to protect people when he was literally tied to the very scum he fought against.

His fingers tightened around your wrist, and something ugly and possessive twisted in his chest. This was his mess. And he wasn't about to let a bunch of goddamn reporters turn his life into their entertainment.

Making a decision that went against every protocol he'd ever learned, he hauled you up and slung you over his shoulder. Your dead weight was heavier than expected, but he'd carried worse.

Without a word to dispatch, he aimed his palm at the ground. The controlled explosion launched them both skyward, out of the filthy alley and into the night sky above the city. Neon lights sprawled beneath them like fallen stars as he flew through the darkness, a hero carrying his captured villain toward an uncertain fate.

His soulmate.

What a fucking joke.

Another shit day.

The explosion echoed through the shopping district, dust and debris raining down as the villain's body slammed into the pavement. This asshole thought robbing a place in broad daylight was a brilliant idea. Too bad for him Katsuki's patrol route ran through here today.

The fight was short, but he'd overdone it with the explosions again. The villain—some low-level thug with a concrete manipulation quirk—had tried to use the crowd as human shields, trapping bystanders behind walls of stone and rebar.

Now the street was trashed. Craters in the asphalt from his blasts, shattered storefronts, chunks of concrete everywhere. His team was already moving in to secure the unconscious villain, quirk-suppressing cuffs gleaming in the sunlight.

Katsuki surveyed the damage with a critical eye, irritation flickering across his face. Fuck, the Commission was going to chew him out for this again. Could've been worse, though. Buildings were intact, no major structural damage. And most importantly—no casualties.

About a dozen civilians were scattered throughout the area, most huddled against walls or sitting on the curb, still shaking off the adrenaline and noise. Some had minor cuts from flying glass. Others just looked rattled. Nothing special.

"Everyone stay where you are!" he barked, his voice cutting through the nervous chatter. "Paramedics are en route. If you're injured, don't move. If you can walk, get to the sidewalk."

He wasn't about to babysit them—they were the ones dumb enough to get caught in a villain attack. But he did a quick visual sweep of the group.

Nothing life-threatening. His team could handle the medical side once the ambulances showed up. He walked right past you without even noticing. Just another face in the crowd. He had more important shit to deal with than playing nursemaid.

Turning away from the civilians, Katsuki nearly ran straight into Red Riot. The red-haired idiot was on patrol with him today. And why the hell did he look way too happy right now?

"Yo, Dynamight!" Kirishima's voice cut through the distant sirens, way too cheerful.

"What?" He didn't have time for interruptions. Still had reports to file, cops to talk to, and he needed to get back to the agency before—

Kirishima stopped in front of him, staring at Katsuki's left hand with wide, stupidly excited eyes. "Dude. Your thread."

Katsuki followed his gaze down.

The thin, pale thread around his pinky—the one he'd successfully forgotten about after graduating from UA and focusing on his career—was glowing. What the actual fuck. Bright red, the same shade as this idiot's hair. And worse, it was leading somewhere into the crowd of civilians.

To you.

His nose wrinkled as he looked at his thread again, then at Eijiro. "Shut the hell up. Don't you dare comment on this," he ground out through clenched teeth. Any hope of living his whole life without a nagging soulmate vanished as fast as his sense of victory had.

Around them, people started getting agitated. Someone pulled out their phone. Stupid whispers rippled through the crowd. Fucking perfect. Another scandal, guaranteed to knock him down from fourth place. He definitely didn't need this shit.

"Kirishima, handle the crowd," Katsuki snapped, already turning and smacking a phone out of one of the most annoying fans' hands as he moved. When he looked up to find where the thread led, you were standing there, staring at your own hand with a scowl. Good—maybe you weren't thrilled about this either. That made things easier.

Katsuki stomped across the pavement in his boots, reached you, immediately grabbed your wrist and dragged you aside. A wave of warmth rolled through them both, making his shoulders tense. "Move," he growled.

He hauled you around the corner into the narrow alley between buildings. Away from the cameras. Away from the crowd already forming, drawn by the spectacle.

The alley was dim and smelled like garbage, graffiti covering the brick walls. He released your wrist with a rough push toward the wall. Like this was somehow your fault. Which, honestly, it kind of was...

He could hear Eijiro's voice calming down those extras, police sirens wailing as they arrived, but right now he only cared about one thing. The problem he was apparently stuck with for life.

Arms crossed over his chest, sharp crimson eyes fixed on you with that cutting stare, he leaned in slightly.

"Who the fuck are you?"