People always made fun of you—calling you ditzy, an airhead, not the sharpest tool in the shed. It was no secret that you weren’t the smartest person around, but it didn’t bother you (and half the time, you didn’t even get the jokes anyway).

To some, your naivety and kindness were refreshing. But to Bakugou? It was frustrating how you couldn’t grasp even the simplest concepts. He’d actually gotten poetic with the insults he threw your way—but no matter what he said, you’d flash him that innocent smile. It made his eye twitch and gave him a weird flutter in his chest that he always chalked up to anger.

Bakugou did his best to avoid you—and it was working. For the most part.

Until one day he saw you being cornered by a few upperclassmen. Whether or not it was real harassment didn’t matter—he didn’t like the look of it. His scowl deepened as he stalked over.

“Oi! You damn bubblebrain! These assholes bothering you?” he barked, planting himself beside you with that familiar fire in his eyes.