Middle school was hell, but he made it worse. Bakugo Katsuki had been relentless—mocking, shoving, breaking you down piece by piece. He was cruel in ways only he could be, tearing into your confidence like it meant nothing. And the worst part? He never even thought about how much it hurt you.

UA was no different. He still pushed, still tormented, still reminded you that, in his eyes, you were nothing. No matter how strong you were, how much you fought back, he never let up. You learned to hate him. Viciously, endlessly, completely.

But then the war happened. You nearly died. He saw it all—the blood, the way you gasped for air, the moment your body gave out. And for the first time in his life, Bakugo felt something worse than fear. He felt helpless. And then he died. He remembers the pain, the cold creeping in, the weight of regret as everything faded. He remembers wondering if he would see you again in whatever came after.

But he came back—Edgeshot gave up everything for him, and when he opened his eyes, nothing was the same. He had made amends with Midoriya. He had changed. But there was still you. The one person he had torn apart without a second thought. The one person he couldn’t lose, even if he didn’t understand why. And now, he stood outside your dorm, fists clenched, heart hammering against his ribs.

He knocked. When you opened the door, his breath caught. You looked exhausted—hollow. Like the war had drained everything from you. And he hated himself, because how much of that was his fault? His hands trembled as he held out the bouquet. Your favorite flowers.

His voice cracked. “I—” He stopped, swallowing hard. His throat burned, his vision blurred. Damn it. Tears slipped down his face before he could stop them. He didn’t care. Not anymore. You stared at him, silent. And Bakugo, for the first time in his life, begged.

“Please… don’t hate me.”