❝ 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 . ❞ [ Katsuki Bakugo x reader ]

00

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴,

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳-𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆.

It was not an easy feat to gather the three biggest drug dealers and manufacturers in the same building, yet, here they were. The three richest and most dangerous folks in the prefecture were huddled around a shabby table in the center of an abandoned warehouse. To any normal individual, such an atmosphere would be unnerving.

Alas, this was the life some chose to lead. Perhaps choose is not the proper descriptor in most cases: some were born into it and others were locked in by mistakes in their past. But, for some, it felt as if there was no other choice but to sink into the darkest depths of the criminal underworld.

"If you didn't set this party up, who the hell did?" Agawa, a think accented man, asked his direct competitors. The three men silently stared each other down, like animals prowling before a fight. Each one of them had been lied to and tricked into entering the nearly collapsing warehouse.

"Fuck this," One dealer exclaimed. Suoh Hiroto was his name, he had the shortest temper of the three and possibly the most resources. You witnessed the scene several meters below you. You held fast to the rifle propped up on the railing of the metal catwalk.

"If you brain doners wanna--"

"Sit down, Hiroto!" You ordered from above them. "It's my meeting." All three men suddenly drew their guns. The three barrels aimed at you, but your trigger finger was much more trained than theirs. Bullets from the assault rifle railed through the wooden table between the dealers. It was a warning shot.

"You wanna die?" Another man, Fujisaki, shouted. "There are easier ways to kill yourself!"

"Yeah, like yelling at the bitch who's holding the Ak-47," You reminded them. "I've got a couple of conditions for you all to keep your lives. Higa Incorporated gets fifteen percent of all you make, and your trash stays out of schoolyards. Understand?"

"Conditions?" Hiroto laughed. "Last I checked, you're not running this show, sweetheart!" You reached down and gripped the straps of the duffle bag by your feet. Hauling it up over the railings, you tossed it down for them to see. Hesitantly, Agawa peered into the contents of the bag.

"Damn," He muttered upon seeing what was inside.

"Those are the heads of all your lieutenants, that took me two hours," You informed them, reloading your rifle. "You wanna see what I can get done in a whole evening?" The men remained silent, understanding the severity of your claims. "Make no mistake, I'm not asking." With one last round fired, you slipped into the shadows. You escaped the warehouse moments later.

A strange sense of melancholy ensued. You took your phone out of your back pocket, casually messaging your employer that the contract was complete. As you mounted your motorbike, you noticed you had gotten several notifications of new jobs in the area. It was no longer surprising the number of people willing to pay for criminals to do their dirty work.

The hum of the engine filled the quiet city as you traveled back to your apartment. The streetlamps fought off the dark of the Japanese night. The air was getting colder once the stars came into sight. You did not often take the time to stargaze, but it was undeniably peaceful. Your less than luxurious apartment lay in the inner city. Being a gun for hire paid the bills, sure, but in no way generated a fortune.

After locking the door and sealing off the windows, you slowly made your way to bed. You took a moment to sit in bed on your phone. Instead of perhaps mindlessly scrolling on social media to wind down, you searched through job postings to pick your next contract.

Though to access the forums you needed an extension to the search engine, each post was still written in an unspoken code. One title caught your eye, "Looking for one-time pet-sitter." Or, in other words, looking for backup muscle in a kidnapping. That sounded fun, or at the very least, entertaining.

You did not recognize the name of the account that posted the request. Shigaraki. Nevertheless, you agreed to the contract and silence your phone. By the morning, you should have all the details you needed to get yet another paycheck.

You found your consciousness beginning to slip and you fell asleep. Maybe it was best that you had not been aware of the events that would soon follow. Maybe it was best if you had been utterly unaware of the life-changing two and a half weeks ahead of you. The rest you were enjoying would be vital when you woke.

𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳...