war of hearts | bakugou katsuki

chapter two

Death stained the air in the once pristine throne room. The metallic scent of blood twisted at the back of your throat, seeping from the man who'd dragged you here, less so from the second who seemed hellbent on following orders.

Your mother had wept at the sight of you and your siblings being brought in. Luckily, your attackers hadn't kept you from running into her embrace.

Behind you, your father sat atop his throne. Dumiero was there as well, suffering from a bruised jaw and busted lip. You couldn't worry about his injuries at the sight of blood staining the front of your father's shirt. The woman you knew to be the family's personal healer was at his side, applying a thick bandage to his shoulder. The entire scene had you rushing to him in an instant.

"Papa!"

He smiled at your voice, bringing up the arm on his unscathed side to cup your face with a large, rugged hand.

"I'm glad to see you unharmed, my blossom," he murmured, expression soon turning grim. "If only I could keep you safe from him."

"Who, papa? Why are the Tatsu attacking us?" you whispered, eyes burning with unused tears.

"Alright thief!"

You turned to see the blonde man from before, eyes cutting into you from afar. He turned towards your mother who guided Cirse and your two, younger siblings behind her on the steps.

"I brought you your brats even after they tried to escape. Tell me where the fucking Omamori is before I tear this place apart!"

At his declaration, your chest shuttered, the heart within threatening to malfunction. You reached towards your bodice, suddenly very aware of the weight resting between your breasts.

"Papa," you wheezed, nearly silent as you looked to him for counsel. He shook his head and attempted to stand, deeply wincing at the movement. He waved off your and the healer's assistance who warned him against activity.

"It's here," he yelled, gaining the attention of the mad man below. Your father nodded to you, expression reassuring or as much as it could be with the pain in his eyes.

Sucking in a breath, you brought both hands to your neck, digging out the necklace's strand from beneath the collar of your dress. Pulling it up and over your head, you dragged the wooden plate from its refuge.

The red-eyed man's stance grew taut as his mien fell into a murderous leer. "The hell? You stole that thing as fucking gift for your daughter?!"

"You don't understand," called the King tiredly. "She needed protection—this was the only artifact that could keep her safe."

"You think she's worth all the lives you slaughtered that day?" bellowed the leader. Everything clicked then. You should've known better—he was the infamous Dragon King of the Tatsu Clan, Bakugou Katsuki. The tribal tattoos and magatama jewelry were all telltales, especially the eyes. Their blood red color was always mentioned in the stories.

"Papa?" you questioned, air punched from your lungs. "Did you...?"

"Give me the Omamori, my blossom," he bidded.

Looking down at the slender block of wood, you caught your pitiful reflection in the jade magatama embedded within it. The black, burned symbols of protection hovering above it mocked you.

Without further delay, you handed it over with a trembling hand, dazed.

As soon as your last finger lifted from the artifact, the air in the room changed. A shiver cut through you as you met the glower of the so-called dragon. He seemed to appraise you, as if seeing something you couldn't. You felt laid bare to this war criminal and you despised it.