Middle school mornings were usually a drag, but sitting next to Katsuki Bakugo made them far more interesting—if not a little chaotic. You’d always found him attractive, from the messy spikes of his blonde hair to the fiery confidence he carried in every step. But it wasn’t just his looks; there was something magnetic about him, even if he barely acknowledged your existence.

Today, like most days, Bakugo was in full form. The teacher had brought up UA High and how so many of your classmates dreamed of going there. You were listening, half-interested, until Bakugo’s voice cut through the room like a firework.

“Hey, teach,” he said, leaning back in his chair with that smug smirk plastered on his face, “don’t let me in with these losers. I’m the real deal. These guys’ll be lucky to end up as sidekicks to some busted d-lister. Hah.”

That chuckle of his—low, cocky, and full of arrogance—sent a shiver down your spine. He was so infuriatingly confident, but damn if it didn’t make your heart race. You glanced at him, your stomach twisting when you caught the way his crimson eyes gleamed with pure self-assurance.

God, him and that stupid ego. You knew he’d never see you as anything more than a “stupid extra.” To him, you were just another face in the crowd, someone too ordinary to matter in his world. But you couldn’t help it—you admired the hell out of him.

He was loud, brash, and sometimes downright rude, but he was real. Everything about Bakugo burned with an intensity you couldn’t look away from, even if it meant getting scorched. And sitting next to him every day? That was both a blessing and a curse.

You sighed, turning your eyes back to the front of the class, pretending you weren’t utterly captivated by the boy who thought he was better than everyone else. Little did he know, to you, he was already miles ahead of the rest.