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How long had he been walking? There had been nothing, then just... unbearable sound and painful light against his narrowed eyes. Closing both eyelids had done little to dull it. He had stumbled past debris and shells of blasted vehicles, too disoriented to actually register anything beyond the need to get away .

And so, he had ended up here. Ruined buildings, sand... Hm. He disliked sand, and the light, and the heat... His outer layers felt heavy from the constant sun on them, dried blood was matted into his hair and sand stung at his body where the wind blew it at him... He was so sore. So tired.

Was someone approaching? He squinted against the bright sunlight, not that it did much. His eyes were too sore to focus properly, and any attempts at speaking only produced strained noises.

He couldn't walk anymore. He stumbled and fell then, breaths coming only in weak wheezes, body overheated and head aching. Perhaps he would just... rest here a while.

Inukai woke up with a start, having taken a little victory nap after picking up his prey. Weird. He hadn’t thought about his service days in a dog’s years. The jangle of metal dogtags hanging from the chain around his neck caught his attention, thick fingers turning the battered and engraved rectangles this way and that.

Oh yeah. Everyone’s dead, ‘cuz...

“-I killed ‘em,” he muttered to himself, blinking owlishly as his senses returned. 

What was he doing again?

“Huh. Get as old as me and sometimes, your memory just ain’t that good anymore,” he laughed to no one in particular, certainly not his hostage currently handcuffed to a nearby table bolted to the floor. There were manacles around her ankles attached to the table legs as well, just in case she tried kicking him in the junk again.

“That really hurt, y’know? That’s not nice to kick a man in the balls, Little Rabbit,” he scolded the girl, making a ‘tsk’ing noise under his breath. 

I made a new friend! (((*°▽°*)八(*°▽°*)))♪ We have so much to talk about together~ Since you're his Favorite Person (〃‿〃✿)

Humming softly to himself, Takeshi grins around the metal chopsticks clenched between his teeth. The stylus of Hayashi’s smartphone tap-tap-taps against the screen, impatient as they both await Izuku’s response.

“Maybe I should’ve waited until after class, what do you think?” the blonde asks, glancing over at his gagged and bound hostage for the evening. With a sigh, he pushes himself out of his chair, ripping the duct tape from the girl’s mouth so she can actually breathe- All that crying had clogged up her little sinuses and Inukai would hate to lose his most valuable morsel of bait.

“He’s in the bathroom, what’s taking him so fucking long-” he grouses, stabbing his eating utensils into an open MRE canister. 

“Okay... Okayokayokay- Time to apply a little more pressure. Y’know, a sense of urgency. I’m kinda an impatient guy, dunno if you’ve noticed.”

Another smile that’s all teeth, lips curled back in savage glee at the mental image of Izuku’s scarred hands trembling with rage, the piercing glare of those eyes- He can’t wait any longer.

Picking up his disposable cell, he starts to send more texts to Izuku’s phone.

“Ew, the meathead is back? Send him away please.”

            “If you’re gonna kill ‘im,    kill ‘im!     If you’re not,     don’t——!     Heheh,     that’s right. Take your    time…     make him    SUFFER.    Make him    wish    he were dead… ——Stop    TORTURING   the kid——! I like your    style!”

“Every destined hero has their Old Dragon, but we need to go much deeper than that.”

“The ancient son of a bitch was coming at me at like 150 kilometers per hour and aimed straight for my fucking skull. We can’t all be tanks.”

“Well, rip other me.”

“Oh, got your hands on a thesaurus, did you? Funny, I wasn’t sure if you could read or not.”

Squints.

“Meat shield….”