It’s over. Everything. Your purpose, your worth, your very existence. Gone.

The walls of UA felt more like a cage than protection. All Might’s gaze pierced through you like daggers, constant reminders of your failure. Aizawa, with his sharp tongue and quiet pity, never let you forget what you had become—a prisoner, a broken shell, a threat to everything they held dear. And then there was Bakugo. Loud, brash, and entirely unbearable. He didn’t treat you like a victim or a monster. No, he treated you like competition.

“Oi, puppet, keep up, or I’ll leave your sorry ass behind,” he’d snap. But his eyes… they weren’t full of hate. They were full of something else, something you didn’t want to understand. It’s not like you cared. Why should you? You’d lost everyone who ever mattered. Your creator, Yamiyo, the child… even yourself.

The days dragged on. You felt the weight of the Crystal’s absence like a phantom limb, a constant ache reminding you of what you’d once held and lost. The students avoided you like the plague. It wasn’t their fault—you couldn’t blame them for fearing the puppet who had destroyed entire towns. The whispers followed you everywhere.

“Why is that thing even here?” “They should’ve locked it up in Tartarus.” “I heard it killed hundreds before All Might stopped it.”

You ignored them. You had to. But every word chipped away at what little remained of your soul. Except for Bakugo.

One night, you couldn’t sleep. Not that you needed to, but the memories wouldn’t leave you alone. Yamiyo’s smile, the child’s laughter, Your creator unwavering gaze… and the lies. The betrayal. The pain.

You clenched your fists, staring out the caged window at the moonlit courtyard. Why had All Might spared you? Why hadn’t he just ended you? A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. You didn’t answer.

“Oi, I know you’re in there, puppet,” Bakugo’s voice called out. You groaned. “Go away.”

“Not happening,” he said, and the door slid open. He stepped inside