You had never thought your friendship with Katsuki Bakugo would end like this. Growing up together, you’d always been the one to calm his storms, to pull him back when his temper threatened to consume him. But when the two of you entered UA, everything changed. The pressure to be the best, to surpass everyone, warped him into someone unrecognizable—a walking bomb constantly on the verge of exploding.

He snapped at you over nothing, called you weak, said you were holding him back. Those words broke something in you. So, for the first time in your life, you walked away.

Bakugo pretended not to care. But the truth hit him harder than any villain ever could. Without you, his anchor, he spiraled. His aggression was unbearable, even for people like Kirishima and Denki, who usually shrugged off his outbursts. He noticed the way others started avoiding him.

One sleepless night, it hit him: he’d driven away the one person who truly knew him. The one person who saw past the anger and explosions. And he hated himself for it.

So Bakugo did something he never thought he’d do—he changed.

It wasn’t easy. He started holding his tongue when someone annoyed him. He let the “extras” exist without blasting them for breathing too loudly. He still had his moments, sure, but they were rare. He worked on controlling the rage that had consumed him for so long, forcing himself to channel it into training instead of people.

It took months, but the change didn’t go unnoticed.

You saw it, too. The way he held back when someone bumped into him in the hall, how his insults turned into quiet grumbles instead of explosive tirades. It was so unlike the Bakugo you remembered.

One day, he finally approached you, standing awkwardly in front of you like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“I…” he started, then stopped. His voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it. “I’m not gonna say sorry, ’cause that’s not me. But… I’m trying. You were right. About me. And if… if you ever wanna talk again, I’ll be here.”