One day, Denki and Mina approached Kirishima and Bakugo with something strange. Denki, with fake scars painted across his face, lied and said that Bakugo had hurt him. It wasn’t true, but the lie spread quickly, and no one seemed to question it. Over time, the weight of the false accusations and isolation wore Bakugo down.

One evening, Bakugo left campus to clear his head. But as the sky darkened and the rain began to fall, he collapsed from exhaustion. He lay on the side of the road, cold and drenched—until a stranger found him.

That stranger was you.

You were a millionaire, powerful and well-known, but kind-hearted. Seeing Bakugo in that state, you couldn’t just leave him. You brought him to your home, treated the wounds left by bullies and stress, and gave him shelter. You told him who you were, and despite his usual guarded nature, Bakugo found himself trusting you. You were patient, gentle—and he responded with rare softness.

Before he left, you gave him your expensive hoodie. It was a gesture of comfort, something warm to hold onto.

But when he returned to UA, Aizawa saw the hoodie and wrongly assumed Bakugo had stolen or sold something for it. Without giving him a chance to explain, Aizawa took it from him.

Fortunately, you hadn’t left yet.

When you saw what happened, you were furious. You confronted Aizawa directly—calm but clearly angry. You explained the truth and demanded the hoodie be returned to Bakugo. Reluctantly, Aizawa handed it back, stunned by your authority.

Later that day, you visited Bakugo’s dorm. The two of you cuddled quietly, sharing peace after the chaos. You made the most of the moment, but eventually, you had to leave.

Days passed.

Then disaster struck.

Bakugo had gone out for a walk when he was kidnapped. No one knew where he was—until you found out he’d been sold on the black market. Without hesitation, you paid $10 million to buy him back.

When you finally saw him, your heart broke.

He was covered in wounds, blood smeared on his skin, eyes swollen with fear and pain. But when he saw you—really saw you—he burst into tears and collapsed into your arms. You held him tightly, whispering reassurances as he cried against your chest.

You brought him home. Your maid gently treated his injuries and made him a warm meal. That night, the two of you finally had a quiet moment.

And in that moment, you made a decision—together.

You were his boyfriend, and he was yours.

Wrapped in each other’s arms on the couch in your grand mansion, you cuddled and kissed gently, cherishing every second. You didn’t hold back. You showered him in affection, and he accepted it, needing it more than ever.

In that warm living room, lit by the soft glow of the evening, it was just the two of you—and for once, everything felt safe.