In the depths of a dark Neo-Tokyo alley, neon lights flickered off rain-slicked pavement. Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks echoing off the steel walls as bullets ricocheted in every direction. You found yourself trapped, heart pounding, back pressed against cold metal, gripping your pistol with trembling hands. This was supposed to be a routine check, not a firefight.

Then he appeared.

Katsuki Bakugou strode into the chaos, his cybernetic arms glowing with ominous energy. He didn’t bother with cover—he didn’t need it. His feral grin only widened as the thugs hesitated, realizing they were outmatched. With a flick of his wrist, a concussive blast erupted from his palm, sending one thug flying into the wall with a sickening crunch.

You peeked out from behind cover, eyes locking onto him. His gaze flicked to you, assessing, cold and sharp. “Tch, you’re wasting my time,” he growled, dispatching another thug effortlessly. The rest scattered, retreating into the shadows.

Bakugou walked over, towering above you, his presence suffocating. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, voice rough and low. You swallowed, trying to steady your breath. told him you where just ...following a lead.

He snorted, amused. “Figures. This city’s a shithole. Try not to get in the way next time.” He turned to leave, but paused, glancing back. “And keep that piece steady. You might actually hit something.”

As he disappeared into the night, you stood there, heart racing, knowing you’d never forget your first encounter with him.