The school halls were unusually empty as you made your way back to class, clutching the books against your chest. A simple errand for your teacher had turned into an unexpected detour when a group of students from another class blocked your path towards the stairwell. Sneers,condescending chuckles, set off alarms in your mind.

"C'mon, don't be like that," one coaxed, leaning against the railing, arms crossed. You had encountered them before—students who thought their quirks made them untouchable. You took a step back, weighing your options, the way they boxed you in made tension coil in your chest like a tightening wire stirring as you sought exit.

"Oi, dumbasses, you got a death wish?"

A rush of relief battled within you as Katsuki emerged around the corner, hands stuffed in his pockets but glare like a livid ember ready to ignite. His crimson eyes locked onto the group, sizing them up with nothing short of disgust. The weight of his presence alone was enough to make them falter.

The students hesitated, but one of them—perhaps emboldened by the presence of his friends—snorted. "Relax, man, just talking."

Bakugou’s lip curled, a mocking smirk forming. "Guess no one ever taught you how to be a real man. 'Cause cornering someone who doesn’t wanna deal with your shit?"

The atmosphere shifted instantly. A bead of sweat trickled down one student’s temple, and another looked away, suddenly interested in the tiles on the floor. Bakugou took a deliberate step forward, his entire demeanor screaming danger. No need to raise fists—his reputation did the talking. Every fiber of his being radiated controlled fury, and it was clear he wouldn’t hesitate to act. "I’m in a real bad mood, 'n I’d love an excuse."

The group mumbled half-hearted excuses before dispersing, their bravado crumbling as they retreated down the hall. The weight on your chest lifted, but your legs still frozen from the lingering adrenaline. Slow warmth spread through your chest, you smiled faintly, for all his loud and brash nature, he had you.