#but like imagine old timey. newspaper reporter! midoriya with his yakuza! bakugou

[dynyamight]

“ I’ve killed people for less. “ and drinks their drink

owo 👀💙

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“I’ve killed people for less.” + drinks their drink

The local news is like the thrift store, for Midoriya. Sometimes, you find the most fascinating stories, begging to be delved further. Murder cases. Lawsuits. Activist movements. Protests.

But, other times-- read, the majority of the time-- it’s overwhelmingly flooded with completely mundane stories. Pet findings. New pop up store. Celebrity sightings. An anniversary of a statue that no one ever cares about.

And, with every stack of newspapers he scans through, Midoriya begins to realize that tonight was one of those dead end nights. Unfortunately.

Aizawa’s going to have a field day yelling at him tomorrow afternoon. The newspaper company is itching for a new story, and Midoriya coming in, empty handed, is only going to upset everyone else, too.

So here Midoriya was, inside a bar, a couple of miles away from where he lived. Hoping running away from his workspace would bring peace.

Originally, Midoriya had been walking down the bustling streets of Shibuya aimlessly, unsure where he was headed. All he knew was that he needed at least the rest of the night by himself, or that’s how long Midoriya planned to stay out. To freshen his mind. Clear it.

But, from the way his fingers began to turn numb, Midoriya knew he couldn't stay out any longer.

What caught his attention was the jazzy music that came from a bar, illuminated by it's red neon, wide cursive label. As he neared it, the aroma of strong liquor stung his nostrils, but by no means stopped him from wanting to enter.

First, he stands waiting outside the closed doors, rubbing his hands vigorously to stay warm. However, the longer he stood, shivering worse and worse, no employee ever came out. Unable to stand outside, Midoriya pushes through the doors, and hopes he isn’t intruding.

Even though not many were seated inside the place, Midoriya already began to feel uncomfortable, especially with how active and loud everything was, from the way the music swung in the air and the way the blaring conversations seemed obnoxious. The noises boomed in his ears, and it only made his heart race.

Embarrassment fills Midoriya's cheeks as he tries to scooch in between table after table, in hopes of reaching to the bar stools. Every ‘excuse me’ is left unheard.

When Midoriya takes his seat by the bar, he finally exhales his held breath, more at ease with the environment. The music didn’t reach as well in this particular spot and no one else really lingered around here. Which meant, it was perfect for Midoriya.

“Well, aren't you a new, pretty face.”

Midoriya turns to meet the bartender, a tall, buff man, with a sultry red gaze, which did no good to Midoriya’s heart. His breath heavily smelled like tonic and smoke and his grumbling voice screamed slum raised.

“Um, greetings.” Midoriya mumbles politely, bowing albeit.

“Hey, good lookin’.” The bartender smirks, “S’rare to see someone I haven’t met, before.”

“Not many people come here?”

“Quite the contrary,” the blonde brawn admits, heaving a loud huff. “It’s just tonight’s boss night, which means sole business. And, it's easy to spot and kick out the new rats like you ‘round here.”

Forcing himself not to grimace, Midoriya offers a weak smile. “Sorry about that. Didn't mean to disturb the place.”

“Nah, I ain't bothered.” The bartender chuckles, “If anyone would be distressed by a new customer, it'd be the last one on that list.”

"Um, you sure are rather kind, mister."

He leans over the counter, harshly whispering close to Midoriya's ear. “Be thankful, I’m in a good fuckin’ mood welcomin' strangers, tonight.”

A shiver creeps up his spine from the sudden closeness. Leaning away from the stench of smoke and hard liquor, Midoriya quickly nods in affirmation. “Yeah, isn't that a blessing. Uh, could I get whiskey, by any chance? That would be nice.” he rambles out, in hopes for a bit of space.

As the bartender moves away, back turned to his stash of drinks, Midoriya lets out a sigh of relief.

Once the bartender faces back around, with two glasses of whiskey in hand, Midoriya blinks. “I- Um, I only wanted one.”

A shake of the head, the guy snickers. He offers one over to Midoriya. “One’s for me, idiot. Unless you're in a mood to forget.”

“Ah, right..” Midoriya reaches for the outreached glass. Their fingers graze each other’s, sending a jolt shamelessly through Midoriya.

Scanning through the bar, Midoriya notices the entire bar was wearing formal wear; tuxedos, suits, ties, coats. They were all dressed to the nines, puffing out big cigars, and downing bottles with ease.

“What’s a boss night?” Midoriya inquiries.

Surprisingly, the bartender narrows his red eyes into a glare. “That’s weasel talk.”

Whatever that meant, Midoriya can only assume it was an insult. “I-I’m not a weasel!” He squawks.

That eases the tension off the man’s face. And instead, a toothy grin appears. “Then, don’t say that shit ‘round here. Or else, I’d have to blow your head.”

Midoriya’s mind thinks of the worst, and the feeling of burning cheeks erupt his face. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Things that can easily be misconstrued.”

“What if I want my shit misconstrued?” The bartender snickers, “Hell, what if I want to miscon-screw you?”

“Y-You don’t even know my name, mister.” Midoriya stutters.

“Yeah, you’re definitely a new rat.” Finally, lifting the whiskey glass to his lips, the smile still stretches. “We don’t give names here. That shit is confidential.”

“O-Oh. Well, then, um, just call me Izuku.” Midoriya mumbles, “It’s my alias.”

It’s his real name. But, the bartender obviously doesn’t know that.

The man’s gaze squints. “What the hell? Deku?”

Midoriya blanches. “No, I said-”

“Just call me Katsu, and we won’t have any problems, Deku.”

Midoriya purses his lips. “Okay, well, I have a problem. And, if I’m paying 2,000 yen for a drink, I politely suggest you say my name right.”

Regardless, Katsu shrugs, with a shining glint in his eyes. “I’ve killed people for less.”

And, just like that, he downs his whiskey in one gulp.

Tentatively, with a sudden chill beating his heart faster, Midoriya sips his drink.

He has to go. He shouldn’t be here. Why did this man joke about death? Killing another person? No, it had to be a joke. A tease. The man has been teasing him the moment he sat down. It just had to be a small jab. That’s all.

Yet, the thought still rattled his mind.

Midoriya coughs, “Um, is that a company policy?”

Katsu hums, tilting his head. “What is?”

“Names. Is it like for, I don’t know, feeling like we’re secret agents? Is that the vibe this bar is trying to give?”

That makes the bartender laugh loud and smack a hard hand on the counter, causing the entire place to look at the two. When they notice the guffawing is from the bar, more specifically the bartender, they all simply turn away. Back to their normal conversations.

While Midoriya’s feeling winded from the sudden attention, the man breathes out an airy chuckle. “It’s a ‘for-life’ policy. Say your name, and you’re a fucking goner.”

Katsu leans in close, eying the side of Midoriya's face, "And, with a cute face like yours, it'd be a fuckin' shame to see it ruined."

Midoriya is strucken with an overload of goosebumps. Whatever this place is, he most definitely doesn’t belong here.