Getting Tired Of Hearing What Every MHA Name Means?

Yo~sha! Anyways, this is gonna be a long, forget 3k, I might do 5k, screw it, I'm way too excited.

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After Aizawa's abrupt departure, the class of 1-A made their way back to their classroom, still buzzing from the physical tests and the shock of the rankings. Once they had settled into their seats, Momo Yaoyorozu, still unsure about the unstructured flow of the day, decided to take the initiative.

"We should probably get to know each other properly," Momo suggested, her voice calm and authoritative. "After all, we'll be working together for the foreseeable future."

The rest of the class nodded in agreement, and Ochaco Uraraka, always cheerful and eager to break the ice, took the lead. "Okay! I'll start!" she said with a bright smile. She introduced herself as Ochaco Uraraka, and described her quirk, "Zero Gravity," which allowed her to make objects float by touching them.

The introductions continued down the line until it was Izuku Midoriya's turn. He stood up nervously, his heart racing. Stay calm, he thought, trying to keep his hands from shaking. No one suspects anything…

"Uh… I'm Izuku Midoriya," he said, his voice a little shaky but audible. "My quirk is… called 'Superpower'." He quickly sat down, his face flushed red with embarrassment. His eyes darted around the room, nervously scanning his classmates to see if anyone found his quirk's name suspicious.

The room was quiet for a moment, and while a few students looked at him curiously, no one questioned it. Izuku breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

Next up was Bakugo Katsuki, who sat casually at his desk, a metal ball in his hand that he was absentmindedly playing with. But this wasn't just a mindless fidget—Bakugo was, in fact, training. He was gradually increasing the heat in his palms, trying to reach a point where he could melt the metal ball without causing an explosion.

Ochaco, sitting nearby, still stung from Bakugo's earlier comment but hoping for a different outcome, hesitated before addressing him. "Um… Bakugo, it's your turn to introduce yourself."

Bakugo glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "What do you want, Kirby? I don't have any food for you," he said in a deadpan voice, not even looking up from his ball. The comment landed hard, and Ochaco flinched, her confidence visibly wilting.1

She meekly responded, "I-I'm just saying, we're all introducing ourselves..."

Bakugo sighed, visibly annoyed. Normally, he wouldn't care about introductions or interacting with what he considered "extras," but he knew he'd be stuck with this group for the next few years. Might as well get it over with.

Standing up, he introduced himself in typical Bakugo fashion, his voice full of confidence. "Bakugo Katsuki. Future number one hero and the strongest hero ever." His sharp tone made it clear that he meant every word, and the class stared at him, some in awe, others in disbelief.

The bold statement hung in the air for a moment before Kurokami Tenshin's turn came. Kuro stood up from his desk and waved energetically, his bright smile a stark contrast to Bakugo's brashness. "Hey everyone! I'm Kurokami Tenshin, but you can just call me Kuro! It's nice to meet all of you!"

The friendly introduction was disarming, and several students smiled in return, finding Kuro's upbeat personality refreshing. What a difference between Bakugo and him, many thought.

As the rest of the class completed their introductions, the atmosphere in the room became much more relaxed. Momo Yaoyorozu, showing a natural inclination for leadership, picked up the conversation where the introductions left off.

"Now that we've all introduced ourselves," Momo began, "I think we should discuss who will be the class president. It's important to have someone in charge of organizing things and communicating with the teachers. Naturally, there should be a vote."

There was a pause as everyone processed the idea. Most of the class seemed to agree that having a leader would be important, but the idea of voting immediately stirred competitive spirits—especially among those like Bakugo and Kuro.

...

The atmosphere in Class 1-A grew quiet as the students scribbled down their choices on pieces of paper, some trying to conceal their votes while others wrote openly. It was Kyoka Jirou who had raised the question earlier: "What exactly should we be judging?" and Tenya Iida had responded with his usual straightforwardness.

"Trust your instincts," he had said. "Vote for whoever you believe is best for the role."

That answer wasn't exactly logical, but it seemed to satisfy most of the class. Still, the question lingered in the minds of many: What makes someone a leader? Was it strength, intelligence, kindness, or something else entirely?

Momo Yaoyorozu had high hopes. With her natural leadership abilities, excellent academic performance, and a strong quirk, she felt she had prepared herself for this kind of responsibility. But as the votes were counted, she saw the results unfold in front of her and felt a pang of disappointment.

The final tally was clear:

Kurokami Tenshin

Izuku Midoriya

Momo stood at the front of the class with the voting results in hand. She read the names aloud, trying to mask her disappointment. Maybe I still need more practice, she thought. It's not the end, just a learning opportunity.

The rest of the class was buzzing with mixed reactions, but none were more shocked than Izuku Midoriya himself.

They voted for me? Izuku's thoughts raced as he struggled to understand why his classmates would choose him. He had never seen himself as a leader, especially with so many other strong and capable students in the room.

I'm not the right choice, he told himself. His mind quickly flickered to the others in the class—Iida's formality and strong quirk, Momo's academic prowess, and even Kacchan's raw power and confidence would be better suited for leadership.

Meanwhile, Kuro, though outwardly cheerful and surprised, had already predicted this outcome. In a room full of unfamiliar faces, people choose the ones who leave the strongest impressions, Kuro thought to himself, masking his inner thoughts with a carefree smile. People see me as energetic and approachable, and Midoriya as kind and genuine. The vote makes sense.

But as he walked up to the front of the class with Izuku, Kuro noticed the tension in Izuku's movements, his anxious eyes scanning the class for reassurance. He's doubting himself. Kuro could see it, and before Izuku even spoke, he knew what was coming.

Standing at the front of the class, Izuku tried to calm the storm of thoughts in his head. His hands were slightly trembling, and he had to take a deep breath before speaking.

"I… I just want to say thank you for choosing me," Izuku began, his voice shaky but sincere. "But… I don't think I'm the right person for this role. I don't feel ready to lead. So, I'd like to step down."

The class erupted in murmurs, some shocked while others simply nodded, understanding Izuku's decision. It wasn't easy to be the center of attention, let alone take on a leadership role when you didn't feel confident in yourself.

Kuro gave Izuku a supportive pat on the back, his smile still wide and genuine. "No worries, Midoriya. I understand completely." He turned to the class, still maintaining his upbeat energy. "But hey! That just means we have room for some Vice Presidents, right?"

Without missing a beat, Kuro scanned the room and locked eyes on his targets. In one swift motion, he quite literally pulled Momo Yaoyorozu up to the front of the class, catching her slightly off guard but quickly composing herself. "Momo, you'll be one of our Vice Presidents. I know you've got the brains to help us all succeed," Kuro said confidently.

Before anyone could react, Kuro gestured to Iida. "And of course, Iida, you're the perfect person for this. Your sense of order and discipline is exactly what we need. Come on up!"

Iida, though already getting used to Kuro's spontaneous antics, stood up with a nod, adjusting his glasses before making his way to the front. I expected as much, he thought. It's an honor to serve alongside them.

Kuro stood between Momo and Iida, holding their hands with an exaggerated sense of camaraderie. "And there we have it! Your class president and vice presidents!" With that, he gave a deep, theatrical bow, prompting Momo and Iida to follow suit, albeit more reservedly.

Iida, always the picture of formality, was the first to address the class. "I will do my best to ensure that our class is orderly, disciplined, and prepared for anything. If any of you have questions or need guidance, I am always available."

Momo, not to be outdone, followed with her statement. "If anyone needs help with studying or understanding any subject, please don't hesitate to come to me. I have plenty of resources, and I'm more than willing to help." Her voice was confident, but inside, she was relieved to at least be part of the leadership structure.

Kuro, always one to keep things light, chimed in after them. "And as your class president, I promise to lead us to victory—no matter what comes our way!" His usual playful tone was replaced, if only for a brief moment, with a hint of seriousness. No matter how bad things get, I'll make sure we're all ready.

The class clapped politely, though the earlier tension hadn't entirely disappeared. Izuku returned to his seat, relieved to be out of the spotlight, though still grappling with feelings of inadequacy. He smiled faintly, thankful that Kuro had handled the situation with such grace and energy.

Bakugo, sitting toward the back, narrowed his eyes as he watched Kuro and Izuku. So, Deku's a coward as usual, but this Kuro guy's got a little more spine. He let out a small "tch" under his breath, uninterested in the proceedings but keeping a mental note of how things had played out.

Meanwhile, Uraraka smiled supportively at Izuku. She could sense how hard that had been for him, and she admired his honesty. "You did great, Deku," she whispered when he sat down, and Izuku gave a small, grateful nod.

With the leadership roles decided, Class 1-A now had its skeleton complete.

...

As the day drew to a close, most students from Class 1-A began heading home. The atmosphere was light and filled with the chatter of students discussing their first day of hero training. Kuro stood by the entrance, waving goodbye to some of his classmates.

"See you tomorrow, Tenya!" Kuro called out cheerfully as Iida walked away with his usual composed stride.

Ochaco smiled and waved back at Kuro, "Bye, Kuro! Don't work too hard!"

Kuro then turned toward Izuku, who seemed distracted as always, and gave him a friendly pat on the back. "Later, Midoriya! Keep that energy up!"

Lastly, Bakugo passed by, hands in his pockets and wearing his usual scowl. "Later, Bakugo!" Kuro called, undeterred by Bakugo's cold demeanor. Bakugo gave a small "Tch" in response but didn't bother looking back.

Once the courtyard had emptied, Kuro made his way toward the Support Course area of the school, his steps light and filled with excitement. Time to get to work!

The Support Course Workshop

The Support Course was quieter than the Hero Course area, with fewer students bustling around at this time of day. Kuro made his way to the workshop, where Power Loader, the teacher in charge of the Support Course, was locking up for the evening.

As soon as Power Loader spotted Kuro, he raised an eyebrow. "I'll admit, I didn't expect you to show up. Thought you'd bail after the first day."

Kuro, ever the ball of energy, grinned widely. "Of course, I'm here! I can't wait to start working!"

Power Loader shrugged, clearly unimpressed by Kuro's enthusiasm. "You're placed in the Hero Suit section. We mostly deal with making gear for the Hero Course here. You think you're up for it?"

"I was born ready!" Kuro responded with a determined smile. "I've got ideas pouring out of my head already."

Power Loader scratched his head and sighed. "Well, alright. If you think you've got it handled, I'll leave you to it. Just lock up when you're done. Try not to break anything."

With that, Power Loader left, and Kuro was alone in the workshop. Surrounded by machines, tools, and the faint smell of metal and oil, Kuro felt like he was in his element. This is it... a place where my imagination can run wild.

The Work Begins

Kuro got to work immediately. His mind was racing with ideas as he surveyed the room, taking in the various tools and machinery at his disposal. He knew he wanted to create something, something that would push his limits—weights that were absurdly heavy, designed to increase his strength even further.

He began working, pulling together metal parts, flattening sheets of steel, and cutting and melding materials. But soon, a problem became apparent. I've got the ideas, but I don't know how to use half of these machines...

Frustration began to set in, but then, like a spark, an idea hit him. Wait, I have my quirk for this!

Kuro focused his "Ki," letting the light purple energy flow through his body and into his hands. He used his quirk to protect his hands from the heat and force of the machinery, allowing him to work faster and with greater precision. His energy acted like a shield, letting him manipulate the materials with ease.

The Encounter

Hours passed, and Kuro was completely absorbed in his work. His body was covered in sweat, his hands dirty with ash and metal dust. He had managed to create a pair of weights that were ridiculously heavy—something even a normal hero would struggle to lift. They were mounted on a metal model of a monster, the creation looking both functional and fearsome.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Kuro reached out blindly for a nearby tool. But instead of the cold metal he expected, his hand landed on something soft.

Kuro froze.

His eyes darted toward his hand, and to his horror, he realized what he had just touched—a girl's chest.

Kuro's entire body seized up in panic, and a shriek escaped his mouth, the only scream he had ever let out in his life. Of all things... physical touch was his one fear, and this was the worst possible scenario.2

The girl in question didn't even seem fazed by it. She had been standing there, observing Kuro's work, her eyes wide with awe at the creation in front of her.

"This... this is amazing!" she exclaimed, pointing at the heavy metal weights. "How did you do this? What kind of material did you use? And what's with the design? It's like a monster or something!"

Meanwhile, Kuro had curled into a fetal position, shaking uncontrollably as the panic set in. He barely heard her questions through the ringing in his ears, his mind still processing what had just happened.

The girl, completely unaware of Kuro's inner turmoil, continued asking questions, her enthusiasm unbroken by Kuro's strange reaction. "Seriously, how did you figure this out? And where did you get that kind of strength?"

It took a moment, but Kuro eventually managed to pull himself out of his panic, though he was still visibly shaken. "You...vixen, ahem! I'm sorry for the...touch, wasn't my intention."

The girl, still oblivious to Kuro's distress, simply shrugged. "No worries. Happens all the time."

She finally introduced herself with a casual smile. "Name's Mei Hatsume. You're in the Hero Course, right? Never seen anyone from your class in here this late."

Kuro, still trying to regain his composure, nodded slowly. "Y-Yeah... I'm Kurokami Tenshin. And... I didn't mean to..."

Mei waved off his apology, already distracted by the weights again. "These are incredible! You've got a good eye for design. What else are you planning to make? I've got some ideas too if you're interested."

Kuro, though still reeling from the earlier shock, couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement at Mei's enthusiasm.

Kuro, still recovering from the earlier awkwardness, decided to ask Mei what exactly she had been working on. "So, what about you, Mei? What brings you to the workshop this late?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation into safer territory.

Mei, barely missing a beat as she inspected his work, looked up with a bright grin. "Oh, just working on my babies!"

Kuro froze for a second, his mind racing. Babies? Wait… His eyes widened. She doesn't mean…? But then it hit him. No, no… she's probably just talking about her inventions. Right? Hopefully.

Mei didn't notice his moment of panic and continued talking with excitement, holding one of her 'babies'—a small mechanical arm with multiple attachments. "I've been perfecting the design on this one for a while now! It's almost ready to test in real-world conditions."

Kuro blinked, relieved. Yep, inventions. "That's... impressive. But, uh, you were looking at the weights I made?"

Mei's eyes gleamed as she returned her focus to Kuro's weights. She ran her fingers over the surface, admiring the craftsmanship. "The precision on these weights is something. Did you make these by hand?" she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

Kuro, who was just happy to share his process, grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I did! I used my quirk to help with some of the finer details, like flattening and shaping the metal. Took a bit of time, but I'm happy with how they turned out."

Mei tilted her head as she continued to study them. "But... what's the point of making weights this heavy? You'd need ridiculous physical strength just to carry them, much less train with them."

Kuro hesitated for a moment, the thought of telling her the truth flickering in his mind. Should I mention my quirk and how I'm training to push my limits? He shook the thought away quickly. No, better to keep that to myself for now.

"They're just prototypes," Kuro said with a casual shrug. "I'm working on making a weighted suit that I can wear all the time—so I'm always training, even when I'm not in battle."

Mei paused, processing the information. Her eyes brightened with realization, and a grin spread across her face. "Ohhh, I see what you're going for! A suit that puts constant strain on your body to increase your strength over time. That's pretty smart!"

Without wasting a second, Mei shot off like a bolt, disappearing behind a pile of tools and machinery. Kuro blinked in confusion, still standing by the weights. "Wait, where are you—?"

Before he could finish, she reappeared, holding a measuring tape and several small gadgets. "Hold still!" she said with a grin, and before Kuro could react, she began taking his measurements with precision and speed, running the tape over his shoulders, down his back, and around his legs.

Kuro, for the most part, remained calm as Mei worked. Unlike earlier, this didn't trigger the same panic in him. It's fine... she's just taking measurements. This isn't like before. He kept repeating it in his head, watching her move around him with professional efficiency.

Mei, meanwhile, was in full inventor mode, muttering to herself as she scribbled down numbers and jotted ideas. "Alright, this should do. I'll need to design the suit to maximize the distribution of weight without compromising your movement… maybe with adjustable plates… hmm."

As soon as she finished taking the measurements, she stepped back, excited. "I've got it! I'll handle the design for the weighted suit, and you can meet me tomorrow to go over how it's supposed to function. We'll fine-tune it together!"

Kuro watched in quiet amazement as Mei dashed off with her usual whirlwind energy. He barely had time to respond before she was gone, leaving only the sound of the workshop tools clattering in her wake.

Once Mei had left, Kuro let out a long sigh, finally allowing himself to relax. That was... a lot. He looked down at his hand, still remembering the earlier shock of physical contact, the sensation of fear lingering at the edges of his mind.

Shaking his head, Kuro tried to push the thought away. Focus on what matters, he told himself. This is where I improve. This is where I get stronger. He glanced around the room, now filled with tools, machinery, and materials he could use. It was the perfect environment for him to train—both his body and mind.

The weights he had worked on would have to wait. For now, he needed to focus on something else. He cracked his knuckles and surveyed the room once more. Might as well start my training here.

...

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the streets as Bakugo and Izuku silently walked home. It had been a long time since they had walked together like this, side by side. Yet, something felt off—there was a palpable tension hanging between them, like an invisible wall neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

Izuku noticed it first. Kacchan hasn't said a word... Normally, Bakugo would be muttering or making some kind of comment, but this silence was unsettling. Izuku glanced sideways at Bakugo, hoping to catch some clue of what was going on in his head. Instead, he saw a rare expression on Bakugo's face—somber, almost conflicted.

Before Izuku could ask, Bakugo's voice cut through the quiet. "Deku..." he started, his voice surprisingly soft. "Were we friends?"

The question hit Izuku like a punch to the gut. 'Were?' Not 'are'? Izuku's heart raced. What did Bakugo mean by that?

"Kacchan, of course, we were friends! We still are!" Izuku said firmly, his voice filled with determination. But something about Bakugo's expression didn't change.

Bakugo kept walking, his face still shadowed by doubt. "Then why didn't you tell me about your quirk?" he asked, his tone bitter, but quieter than usual. "All this time... I thought you didn't have one. I spent years worrying about you. Thinking you were defenseless... weak. But you had a quirk this strong, and you didn't say a damn thing."

Izuku's eyes widened. Kacchan knows…

Bakugo stopped in his tracks, his fists clenched at his sides. His voice trembled with frustration, but there was also a sadness in it that Izuku had never heard before. "Did you enjoy playing me like a fool then? Was it fun watching me worry about you?"

Izuku was stunned. "Kacchan, no! That's not—"

"You didn't even bother to tell me," Bakugo interrupted, his voice rising, though it lacked the usual fire. "Your quirk… that kind of power doesn't just appear out of nowhere. And you didn't say a word to me. All my worries, all those years of me trying to protect you… they were for nothing, weren't they?"

Izuku could feel Bakugo's anger, but it was different this time. It wasn't the usual explosive rage—this was deeper, more personal. It was pain.

"You had a quirk that powerful," Bakugo continued, his voice cracking slightly. "No wonder you didn't care. I must've been such a bore to you, right? Watching me try so hard to get stronger while you were hiding something like that."

Izuku's heart sank as he realized what was happening. He thinks I've been hiding this from him… looking down on him.

Bakugo turned to face Izuku, his expression now unreadable. "So, Deku… you don't have to pretend to be friends with me anymore."

The words hit Izuku like a ton of bricks. Pretend? Bakugo thought Izuku had been pretending this whole time, playing along while secretly holding back the truth. It was clear now—Bakugo believed Izuku had betrayed him, hiding a quirk so powerful, making Bakugo's concerns for him seem like a joke.

Izuku wanted to scream, to tell Bakugo that it wasn't like that, that he didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't mean to hurt him...

But how could he explain One For All? All Might had specifically told him to keep it a secret. Could he break that trust? Could he just tell Bakugo the truth, that his quirk wasn't something he'd had all his life?

Izuku's mind was torn in two—All Might's trust... or Kacchan's friendship? His heart raced, panic creeping into his chest as he struggled to find the right words. Can I betray All Might for this? But… Kacchan's been my friend since we were kids.

For a moment, Izuku froze, his mouth opening but no words coming out. His mind was racing, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. I have to tell him. I can't lose Kacchan.

Izuku took a deep breath, finally deciding to speak—consequences be damned. "Kacchan, I—"

But when he looked up, Bakugo was gone.

Izuku stood there, staring at the empty street where Bakugo had been just moments before. The reality of what had just happened hit him like a tidal wave. I lost him.

His legs felt weak, and his hands shook. Izuku kept replaying the conversation over and over in his head, wishing he could go back and change it. Why didn't I tell him sooner? Why couldn't I say something?

The words Bakugo had said echoed in his mind. "You don't have to pretend to be friends with me anymore."

Izuku felt a lump forming in his throat. Friends… we were friends. But now, that bond felt shattered, and it was all because of One For All.

Izuku clenched his fists tightly, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes. Was One For All a blessing or a curse? He had dreamed his whole life of becoming a hero, but the quirk that was supposed to help him achieve that dream now seemed like a heavy burden. It's only brought me trouble...

A tear rolled down Izuku's cheek as he looked at the empty spot where Bakugo had stood. "Kacchan…" he whispered, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on him.

Was One For All truly the gift he thought it was? Or was it a curse that had just cost him one of the most important friendships in his life?

That evening, Izuku walked home under the dimming sky, his mind a swirling mess of thoughts and conflicting emotions. Normally, after a confrontation like the one he'd just had with Kacchan, he'd be in tears, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. But tonight, he wasn't crying.

He felt something worse—emptiness.

Each step felt heavier than the last, as though his guilt and confusion were physically weighing him down. He wanted nothing more than to turn back, to run straight to Bakugo's house and fix things. But could he? Izuku's heart sank further at the thought. Was he even worthy of Kacchan's forgiveness after what he'd done?

Kacchan had been right about one thing. After getting his quirk, Izuku hadn't thought about what he would say to Kacchan. He had just assumed everything would fall into place, that somehow his friends and everyone else would just accept the change without asking too many questions. Was that naïve?

Izuku frowned. Of course, it was. He should've known better. He knew how Bakugo thought, how much Kacchan valued strength and honesty. How could he not have considered how Kacchan would react?

Before Izuku knew it, he was standing in front of his house, staring blankly at the familiar door. His mother had been so happy lately, overjoyed at her son's acceptance into UA and the prospect of him becoming a hero. She had even reconnected with Mitsuki, Bakugo's mother. The two women often chatted on the phone, and occasionally, Izuku would talk to Bakugo too. But now?

Izuku clenched his fists, standing frozen outside his door. Think of happy things, he told himself, trying to push away the spiraling thoughts. Don't be sad. No one needs you to be sad right now.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside, forcing a small smile onto his face. He was greeted by the warm glow of the kitchen light and the sound of his mother humming a familiar tune. No, no one needed to see him like this. He'd keep it to himself, for now.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Bakugo wasn't feeling sadness—not in the way Izuku was. He walked home with a sense of numbness, a cold, burning resentment sitting in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't going to be brought down by some stupid lie. He was stronger than that.

As he opened the front door to his house, he greeted his mother with a casual "Hey, mom," something he rarely did.

Mitsuki blinked in surprise, looking up from her magazine. "Katsuki? Did you just call me mom? Since when did you learn manners?" she teased with a smirk.

Bakugo shrugged, not really in the mood to play along. "Just felt like it," he muttered before heading upstairs to his room.

Mitsuki watched him go, a small frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. Something's off, she thought. He's never this quiet. But she decided to let it go, assuming he was just tired from the day's training.

Once inside his room, Bakugo shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. He could feel the tension in his body—the anger, the confusion—but he wasn't about to let it show. Not to anyone.

He wasn't going to sit around feeling sorry for himself. Not like Deku. Bakugo wasn't about to be dragged down by some pointless emotions over a quirk. So what if Deku had been hiding it? It didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that Bakugo was still the strongest, and he wasn't about to let some lie get in the way of that.

Bakugo's gaze drifted to the workout room adjacent to his bedroom. Normally, he spent his time training his quirk, focusing on perfecting his explosions and pushing his limits. But tonight, he needed something different. He needed to clear his head—something mindless, something he could do without thinking.

Weightlifting.

Without a word, Bakugo walked into the workout room and grabbed the dumbbells, the familiar weight settling into his hands. As he began lifting, the repetitive motion started to numb his thoughts. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal—it all faded into the background, replaced by the burning sensation in his muscles as he pushed himself harder.

The sound of clinking metal filled the room, but Bakugo's mind was elsewhere, focusing on only one thing: getting stronger.3

Back at home, Izuku sat quietly at the dinner table with his mother. Inko Midoriya beamed as she placed a bowl of food in front of him, her happiness almost palpable. She had been so proud of him lately, so excited for his future.

"Here you go, sweetie!" she said, her voice cheerful. "I made your favorite. You've been working so hard, and I wanted to make something special for you."

Izuku forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks, Mom," he said, picking up his chopsticks and taking a bite. The food was delicious, but it tasted dull in his mouth—his mind was too preoccupied to enjoy it.

As his mother continued chatting happily about her day and her recent conversation with Mitsuki, Izuku could only nod along, giving the occasional hum of acknowledgment. His thoughts kept drifting back to Bakugo.

What was Kacchan thinking right now? Was he angry? Hurt? Disappointed? The image of Bakugo walking away earlier that evening kept replaying in his mind, over and over. Had he lost him for good?

Izuku pushed the food around on his plate, feeling the weight of his guilt growing heavier. Kacchan had always been the strong one, the confident one. He had been the person Izuku admired most, even when their relationship had become strained. And now... now Bakugo believed he had been lied to all along.

"Are you okay, Izuku?" his mother's voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up, startled.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine!" Izuku replied quickly, plastering on another smile. "Just tired from today."

Inko nodded, still looking a little concerned but accepting his answer. "Well, make sure you get some rest, sweetie. You've been working so hard lately."

Izuku nodded, but as the evening went on and he finally retreated to his room, he felt the emptiness settle in once again. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he stared at his hands—the hands that now held the immense power of One For All. What was it worth?

_______________________________________________________________________________________

[Auther: Yo! It's time for support course stuff. Have you noticed? Kuro's way of thinking has changed. he's become more... 'normal' he thinks like a regular guy would now...guess that's what peace does to ya.

As for the sad sad ending, this is what Hirokoshi explained was the true reason for Izuku and Bakugo's split.]