You come to with a pounding headache, laid out on the cold floor of the school library. The fluorescent lights overhead flicker like they haven’t been replaced in years, and the air smells like dust and old paper. Your limbs feel heavy, like you’ve been out for a while. You blink, trying to get your bearings—and that’s when you notice the uniform. Black gakuran, stiff collar, middle school standard. Not yours, but somehow you’re in it.

Your stomach twists. Something’s off. You shift to the side, groaning, and then—BANG! A locker slams shut hard enough to echo down the hall. You glance around the corner and see him: Midoriya, slumped on the ground, trying to pull himself together. Bakugo stands over him, arms crossed, flanked by his usual crew. One’s laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all week, the other’s already halfway down the hall with Deku’s bag.

“Fucking nerd,” Bakugo mutters, voice low but sharp. “You really think anyone wants you around? Keep crawling. That’s all you’re good at.”

Midoriya doesn’t respond. Just stays there, quiet, trying not to draw more attention. The school’s not loud, but it’s not quiet either. It’s the kind of place where things like this happen and no one steps in. Not the teachers. Not the students. Just another day.