A/N: trigger warning for a lot of blood talk thanks to Kazuo's quirk

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Katsuki Bakugo was many things, but oblivious was not one of them. Sure, he hadn't anticipated the robbers' bullets grazing him in the chaotic exchange, but what truly rattled him was the mystery surrounding Emi's abrupt silence during the battle. After the police had rounded up the criminals and the area began to clear, his focus shifted entirely to Emi, whose sudden radio silence had gnawed at him.

There she was, standing before him, looking as if she hadn't been in a scuffle at all. Bakugo's frustration boiled over. He stormed toward her, his anger palpable. "Why the hell didn't you answer me over the comms?" he demanded, his voice laced with an edge that could cut glass. Emi, or rather, the woman he believed to be Emi, seemed oddly detached, and that aloofness threw him off balance.

"I lost my earpiece. My bad," she replied with an offhand shrug, her tone cold and unfeeling.

Bakugo's eyes roamed over her, searching for any hint of a struggle or injury. "What happened? You sounded like you were in trouble."

"I handled it. That bad guy couldn't touch me if he tried." She flashed a smile that sent a shiver racing down Bakugo's spine. It was a smile he had seen before—a cruel, taunting grin that belonged to someone else.

Before he could process his racing thoughts, he seized her arm with a vice-like grip, pulling her closer. "If you think I'm falling for your little charade, you're sorely mistaken. Himiko Toga," he growled, his voice a dangerous murmur that promised violence.

The wicked smile from his past encounters with the League of Villains was unmistakable. He had been right.

"Wow, for someone who seems so dense, I'm impressed you figured it out so quickly," Toga purred, her voice dripping with malicious delight. She was wearing Emi's skin like a costume, and the sight was enough to make Bakugo's blood run cold.

"I'm going to ask you this once before I send you to the afterlife. Where is Emi?" Bakugo's grip on her arm tightened, his eyes burning with determination.

"Honestly, I don't know. I did my part and played it well." Toga glanced around at the surrounding police, their presence a stark reminder of the chaos unfolding. "And since my scene's over, I think it's time for me to leave."

Before Bakugo could tighten his hold, he felt a sharp pain slash across his abdomen. Instinctively, he loosened his grip, and in the blink of an eye, Toga vanished. Disoriented, Bakugo's first thought was to pursue her, but a more pressing concern demanded his attention.

He pulled out his phone and began pacing, his heart pounding as he dialed Hawks. The phone rang endlessly until finally, Hawks answered with an unnervingly cheerful tone.

"Yo, Bakugo!"

"We've got a problem," Bakugo blurted out, his words rushing out in a jumbled mess. "Someone's after Emi, I don't know where she is, and I just had a run-in with Himiko Toga. Where the hell are you?"

"I'm overseas on a mission. Where are you?" Hawks's voice dropped to a concerned murmur, revealing his own sense of urgency.

"We're at the locations your stupid assistant sent us to patrol," Bakugo snapped.

"If I'm not in the city, you don't do patrols," Hawks replied with a sigh. "And my assistant is with me here."

"I'm assuming Toga had a hand in that as well," Bakugo growled, switching the call to speaker mode as he tried to trace Emi's phone signal.

"I'm calling Endeavor. He should be in the area and can-"

"No!" Bakugo interrupted, surprising both himself and Hawks with the force of his outburst. "I've got it covered."

"I don't recommend-"

Before Hawks could finish his sentence, Bakugo ended the call abruptly and dialed a new number.

"For fuck's sake, pick up the phone, icy hot."

_______________

Meanwhile, Emi stood across from Kazuo, her body undergoing a dramatic metamorphosis as her skin turned into solid concrete. The transformation was both rapid and intricate, with her once smooth skin becoming a rigid, unyielding surface. She panted heavily, each breath coming in sharp, visible bursts as the weight of the confrontation pressed down on her. Her eyes, wide and desperate, sought Kazuo's, only to be met with an unsettling, menacing crimson glow that seemed to burn with unspoken rage.

"Kazuo, this isn't you," Emi's voice trembled with a mixture of anguish and resolve. She struggled to maintain her composure, her emotions a turbulent storm beneath the surface. "You're still the friend I knew. Why did it have to come to this?" Her words were a plea, a heartfelt attempt to reach the part of him that she hoped still remembered their past friendship.

Kazuo's reaction was both cold and mocking. He mimicked her plea with a sardonic tone, his voice dripping with contempt. "Why did it have to come to this?" he parroted back, his eyes rolling in exaggerated dismissal. But then his expression darkened as he steeled himself, his gaze sharpening into a dangerous glare. The blood around him, once calm, began to churn and writhe violently, merging into menacing projectiles. "You think you know me? You left me behind. Don't act like you understand what I've been through."

Kazuo extended a hand, and a stream of blood lashed out like a whip toward Emi. She tensed, her concrete skin absorbing the impact as the blood hisses and dissipates harmlessly. The sound of sizzling and droplets hitting the ground fills the silent tension between them.

"I've been searching endlessly for you, ever since we ran into each other in that shop!" Emi's voice cut through the tension, a mix of frustration and desperation. She wiped the remnants of the crimson blood from her concrete armor with a swift, determined motion, her hands working to clear the mess while her eyes remained locked on Kazuo.

Kazuo's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing into angry slits as the weight of her words sank in. The blood around him began to seethe and bubble, reflecting his escalating fury. With a sharp, controlled gesture, he manipulated the blood into razor-sharp daggers. Projectiles sliced through the air with deadly precision, propelled toward Emi with a speed that left little room for error.

Emi's reflexes were put to the test as she ducked and wove with remarkable agility. Despite the weight of her solid concrete form, she moved with a grace born from countless hours of training with Bakugo. Each dodge was calculated and fluid, the product of rigorous drills and strategic practice. The daggers shot past her, embedding themselves with brutal force into the asphalt where she had stood just seconds before.

Kazuo's voice was a low, bitter growl as he spoke, his anger palpable. "All I've ever received from you was abandonment. You took the easy path while I had to claw my way through hell to survive. Don't expect me to forgive you." His words were laced with raw resentment, each syllable a testament to the pain and betrayal he felt. He twisted the top off another tin of crimson liquid, his movements sharp and deliberate, preparing for the next onslaught.

Emi's heart tightened with each of Kazuo's biting words, the weight of his accusations settling heavily on her chest. The pain was almost physical, a sharp pang that made it difficult to breathe. She closed her eyes briefly, drawing in a deep, steadying breath as she steeled herself for what lay ahead. Her focus sharpened, narrowing on the goal that now seemed both distant and crucial. With every movement, the ground itself seemed to shudder beneath the force of her advance, the sound echoing through the alleyway with an almost primal intensity.

Kazuo, watching her approach, swiftly reacted by forming a dense, defensive shield from the swirling blood around him. The shield materialized as a thick, undulating barrier, shimmering with a dark crimson hue. His face contorted in concentration; his jaw clenched tightly as he fought to maintain the shield's integrity against Emi's powerful assault. The strain of holding the shield was evident in the sweat that beaded on his forehead, his muscles trembling with the effort.

As Emi's strength collided with the shield, it began to fracture under the pressure, fissures spreading like spiderwebs across its surface. Sensing the impending breach, Kazuo hastily manipulated the excess blood he had prepared. With a quick, desperate motion, he transformed it into razor-sharp daggers, which he sent slashing through the air. They found their mark, biting into Emi's concrete armor and causing searing pain as they penetrated her thigh and stomach. Each strike was precise, designed to inflict maximum damage and slow her relentless advance.

Emi's focus remained unshaken, even as the sharp daggers embedded themselves through the thick concrete of her armor and into her flesh, each thrust igniting waves of intense, searing pain. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay centered despite the agony. Her voice, though strained, was filled with heartfelt desperation. "Kazuo, please! I understand you're in pain, but this isn't the answer. You don't have to fight me. There's still a way out of this."

Kazuo's face twisted into a pained mask of anger as he struggled to maintain control over his shield. His concentration wavered under the relentless assault from Emi, each impact causing his defensive barrier to buckle and crack. With a surge of determination, Emi delivered a powerful punch, her fist crashing through the weakened shield and shattering it into splatters of blood. The force of the blow sent Kazuo stumbling backward, his body colliding forcefully with the cold, rough surface of the alley wall.

The impact drove him to the ground, where he lay gasping for breath, his strength visibly drained. Around him, the blood that had once formed his protective shield swirled weakly, attempting to regroup and form a new defense. However, his quirk's overuse left him with insufficient power, and the blood's movements were sluggish and ineffective.

Emi approached with deliberate caution, her concrete form unwavering and solid as she observed Kazuo's struggle. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of concern and resolve, each step resonating with a heavy, unyielding presence as she neared his fallen figure.

Kazuo's chest heaved with ragged breaths as he struggled to speak, his voice strained and laced with bitterness. "You think you can save me? I don't deserve your pity," he gasped out, his fingers clenched into a tight fist by his side. The raw intensity of his emotions was evident in the way his knuckles turned white under the pressure.

Emi's voice quivered, barely concealing the desperation within. "It's over. You don't have to fight anymore," she pleaded, her words dripping with a heartfelt urgency. Her emotions were a storm, a conflict of anger and sorrow that swirled within her. She was torn between the frustration of their confrontation and the deep sadness for the friend she once knew, now lost in pain and rage.

One of Kazuo's hands trembled uncontrollably as he extended it toward her, his gaze fixed on hers with a mixture of vulnerability and defiance. For a fleeting moment, Emi's heart softened, and she almost allowed herself a sigh of relief, hoping that this gesture might signal an end to the violence.

But in that vulnerable instant, her guard was momentarily lowered. The sharp, sudden prick of a needle against her concrete skin jolted her back to harsh reality. She looked down in stunned disbelief as Kazuo's hand pressed the syringe deeper, the liquid within penetrating her hardened exterior. The sting of the needle was sharp and unwelcome, the syringe's plunger pushed down with a finality that left her frozen, her mind racing with shock and betrayal as she watched Kazuo's desperate act unfold.

Emi's breath caught in her throat as she saw the syringe in her thigh. Her mind raced, trying to process the betrayal and the shock of Kazuo's treachery. "W-what did you do?" she gasped out, her voice trembling as she yanked the syringe from her leg and hurled it away with a frantic motion. She hadn't seen him acquire it, nor had she noticed his deception in feigning surrender. The realization hit her with a crushing weight.

As Emi stumbled backward, her knees buckled beneath her, an unsettling weakness spreading through her limbs. The concoction injected into her was acting swiftly, causing her quirk to falter and her strength to drain away with alarming rapidity. Her concrete armor began to dissolve, her body growing feebler by the second.

Kazuo, having seemingly recovered from the earlier confrontation, rose from the ground with an air of casual triumph. "I told you; I was taking you with me whether you cooperated or not," he declared coldly, his gaze fixed on her as she crumpled to the pavement. He had expected the injection to induce unconsciousness, but to his surprise, it only paralyzed her, leaving her conscious but immobilized.

Emi struggled to regain her composure, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she fought against the paralysis. Kazuo crouched beside her, a twisted expression of satisfaction on his face as he gently brushed his fingers through her hair. His touch was mocking, a cruel contrast to her desperate situation.

"My friends will come for me," Emi snapped, her eyes blazing with defiant fury. The intensity of her glare seemed to pierce through him, but Kazuo merely chuckled, unfazed.

"What, like I should be scared of your school friends?" Kazuo taunted, a mocking smile curling on his lips. "Or, even your boyfriend?"

The mention of Kirishima sent a cold shiver down Emi's spine. Had Kazuo been spying on her, especially during the break-in at U.A.? The thought was chilling, intensifying her sense of dread.

Helpless and increasingly disoriented, Emi was subjected to Kazuo's merciless grip as he started carrying her down the alleyway. Her gaze fell upon a sleek black vehicle waiting ominously at the alley's end. A sinking realization settled over her—Kazuo was about to take her to an unknown location, and she had no idea when, or if, she'd be found.

As Kazuo reached for the car door handle, Emi silently begged for a miracle, her heart pounding in hope of some unforeseen intervention.

"What the hell?" Kazuo's exclamation of surprise interrupted the tense silence. Emi looked up to see Kazuo's hand frozen solidly to the car's surface—ice.

Before she could fully comprehend the situation, a rush of cold air enveloped her as hands swiftly removed her from Kazuo's shoulder. She felt a comforting chill and a protective embrace. "I suggest you keep your hands off of my friend," Shoto's voice snarled with authority, as he slid effortlessly on a wave of ice.

Emi's relief was palpable, even as her body remained weak and unresponsive. Shoto cradled her gently in his arms, his touch both reassuring and protective. He sent another blast of ice, sealing Kazuo's remaining hand to the car, effectively immobilizing him.

"Shoto," Emi breathed out, her voice a mixture of gratitude and relief. Tears welled up in her eyes, her heart swelling with the warmth of rescue amidst the cold that surrounded her.

"Bakugo called; he's on his way," Shoto said firmly, his eyes never leaving Kazuo as the man struggled against the icy restraints. His tone was calm but urgent, each word measured to convey the seriousness of the situation.

"His quirk—" Emi began, her voice shaky, but Shoto cut her off with a decisive nod.

"I know," he said, stepping back cautiously from Kazuo, whose frantic attempts to free himself only seemed to intensify. "My priority is to get you out of here safely. Endeavor is on his way too; we're meeting up with Bakugo."

Kazuo's eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Emi and Shoto. "Emi Kaneko!" he roared, his voice echoing with a menacing edge. "This isn't over. I'm coming for you, and no one—none of your friends, not even your boyfriend—will stop me. I'll deal with them all. Do you really want to put them in danger?"

Emi's heart clenched at his threats. She looked at Kazuo with a mix of sadness and resolve, her voice barely a whisper. "Kazuo, it's over. You're not going to hurt anyone else." Her words seemed to pierce through the chaos, though she remained unaware of Shoto's reaction to her mention of Kazuo's name. Whether she was distracted by her focus on Kazuo or intentionally avoiding it, her attention stayed firmly on Kazuo.

"Let's go," Shoto said firmly, turning his back on Kazuo. He created a slick ice slide that shimmered beneath them, leading them away from the scene. Emi, unable to stand on her own, could hear Kazuo's anguished screams fading behind her. She fought to ignore the sounds, her tears streaming freely down her cheeks as the reality of her exhaustion and fear washed over her.

As they met up with Bakugo, Emi's strength waned further. Shoto gently transferred her into Bakugo's arms, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "She appears to be suffering from a paralyzing agent," Shoto explained to Bakugo, his voice crisp with urgency. "We need to contact Aizawa and have Recovery Girl meet us at the hospital as soon as possible."

Bakugo's gaze was fixed on Emi, his expression a blend of worry and resolve. He said nothing, but the intensity in his eyes conveyed his commitment to ensuring her safety. Shoto's words hung in the air, a grim reminder of the danger they had narrowly escaped and the urgent need for medical attention.

Emi's silence was heavy with regret as she lay in Bakugo's arms, her head bowed, and her gaze fixed on a point far away. The weight of her perceived failure pressed down on her, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she had let everyone down. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier that evening when Bakugo had teased her about needing to pick up her slack. The sting of his words felt more acute now, and she imagined how angry he must be with her for not meeting his expectations.

Bakugo, acutely aware of her distress, watched Emi's distant, downcast eyes and the blood seeping steadily from the wounds on her stomach and thigh. Her body was limp, almost lifeless, in his arms. He knew she was barely conscious, her strength waning with every passing moment. "Let's get her to the hospital," he said, his voice resolute yet laced with an undertone of frustration.

Shoto gave a firm nod in agreement. They carefully placed Emi in the back of an ambulance, making sure she was settled and comfortable. The paramedics quickly took over, their practiced hands attending to her injuries. Bakugo and Shoto stepped outside, away from the bustle and commotion, to discuss their next moves in private.

Shoto pulled out his phone and dialed Aizawa, his face set in a serious expression as he briefed their mentor on the situation. Meanwhile, Bakugo was already tapping furiously on his own phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he sent a brief message to Kirishima.

I'm going to send you my location in a moment. Get your ass there as soon as possible.

He hit send with a grim finality, deliberately leaving out any additional details. The last thing he wanted was to escalate Kirishima's anxiety before he had all the facts. Bakugo's eyes flicked towards the ambulance, his expression a mixture of concern and determination as he prepared for the next steps.

As the ambulance sped down the road toward the hospital, an Endeavor Agency vehicle followed closely behind. Inside, Shoto and Bakugo were wrapped in a tense silence, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on both of them.

Bakugo broke the silence first, his voice sharp with a mix of impatience and concern. "Did you get a good look at the villain?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Shoto, who stared out the window with a somber expression. The city lights flickered past, casting fleeting shadows across Shoto's face.

Shoto's response was curt yet filled with a deep-seated frustration. "It was the same guy who broke into U.A.," he said, his tone clipped and devoid of unnecessary elaboration.

Bakugo's jaw tightened as he absorbed this information. "Did you get anything out of him before you left him?" His question was laced with an urgency that underscored his growing frustration.

Shoto's next words were heavy with implication. "She knew him."

At this revelation, Bakugo's body went rigid. His mind raced with a multitude of questions, but before he could voice them, Shoto's head shook slightly, signaling a boundary to the conversation. "I don't know any more than that. But she knew his name. She said it."

Bakugo's mind whirred as he tried to piece together the fragmented information. His thoughts churned with possible explanations, each more concerning than the last. The realization that Emi had recognized the villain and possibly had deeper connections to him was unsettling.

As the ambulance and the Endeavor vehicle cut through the city streets, Bakugo's thoughts were consumed by one overwhelming hope: that Emi, despite everything, wasn't putting herself in even more danger.

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