this is it, folks!

enjoy~!

A glacier-massive eruption of ice cascades out of the upper atmosphere, fashioning itself into a glistening spiral chute to catch the figures as they plummet and luging them to safety on the roof below.

When they land, Deku and Todoroki stand before him, the former setting a shimmery-skinned, platinum-haired woman he identifies instantly as Shrink Wrap on her feet; the latter carting around an unconscious, blue-bobbed teenager in Froppy pajamas. He surmises the kid must be the portal quirk-user he ordered, and makes a mental note to remit an official commendation on her behalf even as his chest wrenches something fucking awful at the unbidden memory of the kid he couldn't save.

Bottling that shit up for later (or ideally, fucking never), Katsuki redirects, and finds himself torn between two wildly conflicting impulses: on the one hand, he'd really love to rip into Deku for taking his sweet-ass goddamn time getting here. On the other, Uraraka is out of time, and counting on him to free her up to release her quirk, fucking stat.

He settles for shooting Deku a scowl steeped in poison, and bows over Uraraka, sweeping sweat-drenched whorls of hair out of her face, and the fat gobs of accumulated tears from her still-closed eyes.

"Cavalry's here," he reports, "time to quit this hellhole." He slips a hand under the base of her skull, bands an arm gingerly across her back. "Ready?" The question's rhetorical, meant more to signal she should brace herself than to request permission to pick her up –he's going to whether she's ready or not, and she's visibly fucking not. In fact, as he lifts her –gently, and oh-so-fucking careful—she chokes on a scream, heaves like she's about to spew, appears to swallow back whatever was about to come up, and then spends several seconds moaning in weary agony. "Steady," he reiterates.

Uraraka doesn't respond. She's completely limp now, utterly fucking helpless, and he hates it.

Katsuki scoops his arm under her knees and tucks her face against his chest, unbothered by the prospect that she could blow at any minute, and looks to Deku to give the go-ahead to Shrink Wrap –only to come up short at the expression Deku's wearing.

Deku's already nodding at the freelancer, who cackles insanely as she cups her hands before her like she's begging for alms and blows a gauzy bubble into the makeshift cradle of her palms.

Meanwhile, Deku's gaze is target fucking locked on Katsuki and the curled, whimpering form in his arms. Katsuki watches tears well in Deku's eyes, solemn concern for Uraraka's well-being interbreeding with some obnoxious species of wibbling fucking jubilation. As his lip curls and his hackles rise, the nerd's mouth pulls into a watery smile that stretches from one ear to clear across the shitting city.

Because of course this freakishly perceptive asshole immediately fucking knows.

So much for keeping this on the down low until they've had a chance to…pound out the details of their new arrangement in private. Although, Uraraka and Deku being what they are to one another (read: co-founders of the tell-each-other-fucking-everything club), there's no way this shit could've stayed contained long, anyway.

He tuts in aggravation and pockets his murderous intent for present, casting his glower elsewhere and lighting onto Mr. Threw-the-Damn-Match,* tensing when Todoroki's cocked brow and shitty grin suggest he knows, too.

Which –fucking what? Since when did this dense piece of shit get a fucking clue?

Is it that obvious?

Breaking in on his turmoil, "Get ready to jump, boys," comes the startlingly loud and theatrical voice of the freelancer as she holds aloft a hollow yet solid-looking, diaphanous orb, and strikes a pose like she's about to perform a fucking soliloquy. "Registry's about to go bye-bye!" Then, deliberately not waiting for them cheese it, she smashes the bauble down onto the roof, and exactly like last year in her ISS livestream, the thing pops soundlessly (which he'd mistakenly assumed was the fault of her being in the vacuum of space), disappears, and following a second of inactivity, balloons outward from an unknowable central point to encompass the entire structure.

Katsuki and Todoroki are already airborne and flying for the nearest building by the time Deku grabs Shrink Wrap by the waist and frantically leaps, right before the monster fucking bubble contracts to 'wrap' the Registry.

And like that, in the blink of an eye, the Quirk Registry is gone.

/-/

Three things happen after they touch down on the next closest rooftop: first, Katsuki props Uraraka up beside a fire exit door and hastily presses the tips of her fingers together; second, Uraraka exhales, 'Release,' and promptly dives right to empty the contents of her stomach; and lastly, as Katsuki's bracing her and hurrying to hold her hair back, Todoroki's voice sounds directly in his earpiece,

"Who had this month?" Half-and-Half wonders with deadpan frankness, and initially Katsuki's lost –not to mention confused about why Todoroki would activate his comm to talk to him when they're standing literally in front of each other.

It soon becomes all too horrifyingly clear. One after another, the line fills with a chorus of shocking pronouncements:

"Oh, crap baskets, did I miss it?" Eijirou whines.

"Truly? Congratulations!" Ponytail extols.

"I had next month," Hanta laments.

"Ochako-kun, Bakugou-kun, I commend you both on your courage and wish you many happy returns!" Four Eyes. He continues, "Alas, I had last month."

Deku, who's landed somewhere else after having taken the dive to catch the now toy-sized Registry: "I didn't have this month, but I'll be collecting a cut of the side pot since it happened on the job."

Ashido, who's not even on the mission, somehow gains access to this closed, private channel, and shrieks at an increasingly ear-fracturing pitch.

(…it's possible he imagines that last one, or that he's simply having a prescient flash of an annoying future.)

Last but not fucking least: "I'll be accepting my check in person." Motherfucking Wiretap. "All proceeds will be going to your local Deep Dope merchandiser, thank you."

Katsuki is going to murder every last one of them.

/-/

In a cab on the way to the hospital, Uraraka's laid across his lap, staring up at him with –fuck, this'll take some getting used to—dopey adoration. She's grinning sweetly, a certain lingering, eerily Fifty Shades of Fried Kaminari to the vacancy of it.

"Oi, what the hell," he grouses, "stop making that stupid face." She pouts at him, in a goofy, endearing kind of way, which makes him want to kiss her all the fuck over again.

"Your face is the stupid face," Uraraka insists, and how his brain interprets this as clever is beyond him.

Without heat, "Count yourself lucky you're a damn invalid, Cheeks."

In the sleepiest Smug imaginable, her eyelids fluttering shut, "…thought I was 'Ochako' now…"

Katsuki smirks to himself, lacing their fingers together, staring down at her in quiet awe and spinning out across a landscape of a thousand, a million, a lifetime of possibilities, all predicated on her.

This time, he's not afraid. This time, he's not going to run away.

This time, he's playing for fucking keeps.

*'Mr. Threw-the-Damn-Match' - YOU BETTER FUCKING BELIEVE BAKUGOU'LL NEVER LET TODO-SON LIVE THIS DOWN

**'crap baskets' - KIRISHIMA IS AN INNOCENT ANGEL PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW YA' DAMN RIGHT HE'S GOT TFS GOHAN'S PHRASING SENSIBILITIES

/-/

other notes:

-two years. i started this fic in mid-2017, and i'm finally, finally done, as of the wee hours may-four 2019, and i am -well, weeping openly at my keyboard, for starters. overjoyed, also. in numb disbelief, a little. and sad, maybe?
-i've got two remaining kacchako projects in the works: 1) the bodyguard AU i mentioned at the end of chapter ten, and 2) the 'feat equal' epilogue smut i've been promising for about a century now (which will be a separate entity entirely -its working title is 'a rational deception'). SO NEVER FEAR, KACCHAKO FAM, i'm not going anywhere in the immediate future (although i am still DETERMINED to get back to writing dbz as soon as possible, hahahahaha FML).
-i absolutely, positively cannot thank you all enough for the insane kindness and support. y'all are the fuckin' tits and i love each and every last one of you.
-plus ultra, my good chums~

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