Try and tell me, Bakugo ain't better. Go ahead, do it. Those who have finished the manga know why.
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A Few Years Later
Time had passed, and the mystery of Himiko Toga's disappearance at Karakura Junior High faded into obscurity. Her case remained unsolved, but the world moved on. After all, who cared about a single girl when there were so many more important things happening? In the grand scheme of things, her absence was just a blip, quickly forgotten by all but a few.
Meanwhile, at Aldera Junior High, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. The final year of school was coming to an end, and today was the day everyone had been waiting for—the day they found out who among them had made it into U.A. High School.
U.A., the most prestigious hero academy in Japan, is renowned worldwide as one of the top three institutions for training future heroes. It was also the alma mater of the country's greatest hero, All Might, a living legend whose mere presence symbolized peace and justice.
The classroom buzzed with excitement as the teacher, an older man with a tired expression and a stack of papers in hand, prepared to announce the names. He knew this was the highlight of the year, the moment every student had been waiting for. And so, he decided to start with the best news first.
"All right, everyone," the teacher began, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Let's get to the big announcement. I'm sure you're all eager to know who made it into U.A. High School."
The room fell silent, every student leaning forward in their seat, hanging on the teacher's every word. There was only one name on everyone's mind, the one they all expected to hear.
The teacher cleared his throat and read the first name off the list. "Katsuki Bakugo."
A kid with ash-blond spiky hair and piercing red eyes sat at the back of the class, his legs propped casually on his desk. Katsuki Bakugo didn't flinch as his name was called, not even a hint of surprise crossing his face.
He had expected this—of course, he had. A cocky grin spread across his lips as the classroom erupted into cheers and applause. His classmates knew as well as he did that Bakugo was a shoo-in for U.A. He was strong and confident, and his quirk was powerful. If anyone could pass the entrance exam with flying colors, it was him.
"Way to go, Bakugo!" one of the boys shouted, and the others chimed in, their voices overlapping in a chorus of praise.
Bakugo soaked it all in, his grin widening as he basked in the admiration of his peers. But even as the noise filled the room, he barely paid attention. In his mind, U.A. was just the first step. He had bigger plans—much bigger. He was going to be the number one hero, just like All Might, and nothing and no one was going to stand in his way.
But then, the teacher called out the second name.
"Izuku Midoriya."
The words seemed to hang in the air, almost as if the teacher himself couldn't believe what he had just read. He blinked, then adjusted his glasses, glancing back down at the paper to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. "Izuku Midoriya," he repeated, this time with more certainty.
The classroom fell into an eerie silence. The cheers died down, replaced by a collective sense of shock. All eyes turned to the timid, green-haired boy who sat just behind Bakugo, his face pale and his hands trembling slightly.
Izuku Midoriya—Deku, as Bakugo called him—looked like he wanted to disappear into his seat. The sudden attention made his heart pound in his chest, his breath coming in short, nervous gasps.
"Midoriya?" someone muttered, disbelief evident in their voice. "But... he's quirkless."
Bakugo's expression darkened, the smug grin slipping from his face as he slammed his hand on the desk, the sound echoing through the stunned classroom. He whipped around to glare at Midoriya, fury blazing in his eyes.
"What the hell, Deku?!" Bakugo spat, using the nickname he had bestowed on Midoriya long ago—a cruel twist on the word "dekiru," meaning "can do," but in this context, meant to imply the exact opposite: "useless." "What do you think you're doing, trying to get into U.A. without a quirk? Are you out of your damn mind?!"
Midoriya flinched at the harsh words, his shoulders hunching as if he could make himself smaller. He tried to find his voice, but it was difficult with Bakugo's anger bearing down on him and the entire class staring in disbelief. "I-I know it's hard," Midoriya stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... I-I've been studying hard. U.A. has started accepting students without quirks, so... maybe..."
Bakugo wasn't having any of it. He shoved his desk back with a loud scrape and stood up, towering over Midoriya, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don't have a shot, Deku! Do you think you can become a hero just by studying? You're not even in the same league as us! U.A. is for people with real power, not weaklings like you!"
The class murmured in agreement, their words like knives cutting into Midoriya's resolve. He wanted to argue, to tell Bakugo that he could do it, that he could find a way.
But the jeering and sneering of his classmates drowned out any words he might have had. They didn't believe in him. Why would they? He was quirkless, and in a world where power defined everything, he was the weakest link.
Midoriya clenched his fists under the desk, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. He knew Bakugo was right—he had no quirk, no power to speak of. But even so, there was a tiny spark of determination deep within him that refused to be extinguished. He had to try, no matter how impossible it seemed. Because if he didn't... who would?
...
After Class
The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, but Bakugo Katsuki's mind was far from settled. He stormed out of the classroom, his black jacket thrown over his student uniform, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
His expression was a mix of frustration and agitation, his earlier confrontation with Midoriya playing on a loop in his head. The harsh words he had spat at "Deku" were laced with more than just anger—there was something deeper, something he didn't want to admit even to himself.
As Bakugo walked through the familiar streets, his pace was quick, almost aggressive, though his mind wandered far from the path he was on. He and Izuku had once been inseparable, best friends since childhood.
They used to do everything together—playing in the park, chasing after each other, and dreaming about the future. But everything changed when they both turned four. Bakugo had manifested his quirk—an explosive power that set him apart from the other kids. But Izuku? Izuku had nothing. He was quirkless.
At first, the dynamic between them hadn't changed much. Bakugo was still the stronger one, and he took on the role of protector, teasing Izuku but never with malice. It was all in good fun—at least, that's what Bakugo told himself.
He would taunt Izuku with his quirk, showing off his strength, but it was just a way to show off, a way to include Izuku in his world of power. He never meant to hurt him.
But then Izuku had to go and declare that he wanted to be a hero. That was the real problem.
The thought alone made Bakugo grit his teeth in frustration. Damn it, Deku, he thought angrily, his fists clenching inside his pockets. Izuku's dream wasn't just unrealistic—it was dangerous.
In a world where every criminal and every villain had a quirk or a weapon, how could someone as weak as Izuku hope to survive? He was a textbook nerd, a small, skinny kid who could be taken down by a single bullet. It was insanity for him to even think about becoming a hero.
Bakugo's pace slowed as he replayed the countless arguments they had had over the years. He had tried everything—yelling at Izuku, mocking him, trying to scare him out of his delusions—but nothing worked.
Izuku's determination was like a wall, impenetrable and frustratingly stubborn. He just wouldn't listen to reason. And that determination? It wasn't bravery, not in Bakugo's eyes. It was stupidity, plain and simple. Bravery and willpower couldn't make up for power—real power, the kind Bakugo and Izuku would never have.
But the truth Bakugo didn't want to face was that his anger, his frustration, stemmed from something deeper than just wanting to knock some sense into Izuku. It was fear.
Fear that one day, Izuku would get himself killed, all because he couldn't give up on this ridiculous dream. Bakugo would rather have Izuku hate him—despise him even—than watch him die because of some stupid, reckless attempt to play the hero.
The thought was a heavy weight on Bakugo's chest, one he had tried and failed to shake for years. And as he walked, lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice that he had wandered off his usual path.
"Hey! It's me, Kuro!"
The voice snapped Bakugo out of his reverie, and he looked up, surprised to find that he had veered off into a part of the neighborhood he didn't usually visit.
Standing in front of him was a black-haired teen, about the same height as him, with an easygoing smile on his face. Bakugo recognized him immediately—Tenshin Kurokami, or "Kuro," as he was known. The star soccer player who had been responsible for several Aldera's victories over his school.
"Yeah, I know who you are," Bakugo muttered, his voice edged with irritation. He didn't have time for idle chatter, especially not from some guy he barely knew.
Kuro's grin didn't falter. "Good to see you, too, Bakugo. You looked like you were lost in thought there. Something on your mind?"
Bakugo scowled, not in the mood to explain himself. "Not that it's any of your business," he snapped, brushing past Kuro with the intent to continue on his way.
But Kuro didn't seem bothered by the brush-off. Instead, he turned and started walking alongside Bakugo, his hands casually tucked into his own pockets. "You know," Kuro began, his tone light, "people say you're pretty intense, Bakugo. Always pushing yourself, always aiming for the top. I respect that."
Bakugo shot him a sideways glance, suspicious of Kuro's motives. "What's your point?"
Kuro shrugged, his expression unreadable. "No point. Just think it's interesting how some people are willing to push themselves to the limit, while others... well, others have different ways of getting what they want."
Bakugo's eyes narrowed, catching the undertone in Kuro's words. There was something about this guy that didn't sit right with him, something about the way he spoke, as if he knew more than he was letting on.
"You got a problem with how I do things?" Bakugo challenged, stopping in his tracks to face Kuro directly.
Kuro simply smiled a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Not at all. I think it's admirable. But sometimes, the straight path isn't the only path, you know? Just something to think about."
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[Auther: Yo. Now, we'll get to see what Kuro's act like normally.]