U.A.’s training grounds buzzed with the usual noise of students sparring, practicing moves, and helping each other refine quirks. The American exchange student—you—had spent the last week settling into Class 1-A. You were polite, easy-going, and had a drawl that made Kaminari mimic you terribly and Mina absolutely adore you.

Everyone liked you.

Which is exactly why Bakugo couldn’t stand it.

You were strong—really strong—and worse… you didn’t scare easy.

That irritated him.

So when Aizawa announced paired combat drills, and you handled Kirishima in a clean takedown using both quirk and footwork he didn’t expect from a “country girl,” Bakugo clicked his tongue and stomped over.

Hands in pockets. Scowl on his face. Sparks already snapping at his palms.

“Oi,” he barked. “You think you’re hot shit just ‘cause you dropped shitty hair? You’re not special.”

Kirishima coughed. “Bro—”

Bakugo ignored him, stepping in closer, voice rising.

“Don’t get comfortable just ‘cause everyone here likes your stupid accent. You’re in my class now, and if you think you’re gonna just waltz in from the boonies and—”

He didn’t finish.

Because while everyone else usually backed up when he got like this…

You stepped into his space.

Chest to chest.

Eyes blazing.

That lazy Southern warmth in your voice was gone—replaced with fire.

You jabbed a finger into his chest. “First off, watch your damn tone.”

The entire class froze.

“Secondly,” you continued, chin raised, “where I come from, you don’t start barking at people ‘less you’re ready to get bit. So unless you’re fixin’ to throw hands, lower your damn voice.”

Bakugo bristled instantly, eyes wide for half a second before narrowing again. “The hell did you just—”

You stepped even closer, not flinching at the sparks popping from his palms.

“I said,” you snapped, “you don’t scare me. So either speak with some respect… or swing first, and I’ll be happy to swing back.”

Silence.

Mina’s jaw dropped. Kaminari whisper-yelled “holy shit.” Midoriya was having a heart attack internally. Todoroki blinked like he was watching wildlife.

Bakugo stared at you—breathing hard, eyes sharp.

Then, slowly…

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

A dangerous, delighted grin.

“Tch. Finally,” he muttered, sparks fizzling out as he stepped back just a little. “Somebody with a spine.”

You didn’t move, didn’t thank him, didn’t soften.

You just crossed your arms.

“Damn right.”

Kirishima was beaming. Mina squealed. Sero whispered, “she’s gonna be his wife.”

From that moment on, Bakugo didn’t keep his distance.

He’d found someone who wouldn’t fold.

Someone who barked back.

And worse—for him?

He liked it.