Blood Riot Thread, but this time: Bakugou's POV!
(probably not AS long/detailed but... yeah ;) )
With a sigh, he answers it.
It’s the prison.
Like that somehow made it his fucking responsibility.
“Right. Well, we have him in interrogation room 4. You can go in when you want.”
He croaks out a broken, “I’m sorry.”
But never. Never. Had Blood Riot apologized to Bakugou. Let his voice break. Sound weak.
Not one damn time.
And all the asshole in front of him just says, “I’m… me.” Like that’s a fucking answer.
But the name wasn’t enough. Everyone knew his name, “You don’t sound very sure about that.” He needed more. These games were going too far.
“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay!”
Bakugou got outmaneuvered one more time. Motherfucking shit.
He drops the person standing petrified in his grip and Bakugou storms out the door.
What the fuck is he supposed to do?
He feels angry.
And he feels like an idiot. He isn’t sure what to believe.
Not to mention how to deal with whoever was sitting in that prison cell.
He asks two heroes he trusts to come into the office.
“You don’t often call upon others for advice,” Tokoyami notes.
As he breaks down the situation, he can see their disbelief and confusion.
Worst of all, he can tell they’re worried.
Luckily, they know him well enough to not try saying anything.
“Well. What do you think?” Bakugou asks impatiently. He didn’t call them there to stare uselessly into space.
“I already looked through all the camera feeds, there’s no signs of what happened. One day he’s acting normal, the next day he wakes up hitting himself and throwing up.”
“Yes, that’s what I fucking said.”
“Be specific,” Bakugou is irritated, because he’s sure that if his mind was calmer, he probably /would have/ thought of a better solution.
Which was annoying as shit.
Bakugou was supposed to be a calm and calculating hero. One that people could count on when shit hit the fan.
Shouji’s suggestion reminds Baukgou of something. Of someone.
“For example—” Tokoyami starts, but Bakugou cuts him off.
“I got it now.”
Before Bakugou can slam the door shut, Shouji catches it in one of his hands, “We know you don’t like getting help, but we’re glad you called us. You know you can always ask us.”
Bakugou gives them a sharp head movement in acknowledgement. He can’t manage more than a gruff, “Sure.”
He picks up his phone, making a conscious effort to not crush it. His secretary had chewed him out for exploding his last 3 phones.
He calls his contact in the police force.
Yeah that one.
Tell her to be at the prison tomorrow morning.
Yes, that prison.
Fine, the day after tomorrow works—the sooner the better.”
He’ll have the secretary order a new one.
So when the next day arrives, he’s ready. He has questions to ask.
Fucking useful. Especially to Bakugou right now.
He gives her a small warning talk. He tells her exactly who they were dealing with—or who they /weren’t/ dealing with.
She was petrified.
To talk to whoever was sitting in the cell.
For Bakugou, that isn’t really question, it’s a command.
But he says it like a question anyway.
This isn’t a reverse interrogation.
And letting the body snatcher ask a few questions might make them more likely to properly answer his questions.
Bakugou isn’t sure why.
Whatever is going on in their head, they make a decision, “I’ll be honest, I swear.”