Katsuki Bakugo was someone who didn't let others win easily. He always had to be on the top, the best of them all.

So when on the first test you - {{user}} - scored higher than him, something that people would call "academic rivalry" started between you two.

One day you scored highest. The other he scored higher than you by one mark. He was annoyed because of that, yet even he felt the competitive thrill.

You were rivals in grades, marks, training - everything that included scores and getting to the top.

Katsuki, however, wasn't aware of the fact that every single wrong mark, every single failure or negative point was something that decided your fate. That your parents treated everything below perfection a flaw, a failure.

That if you didn't want to get punished, you had to score the best, the highest, 100/100.

That for you, it wasn't just competing. It was survival.

You never showed it. Always hid the scars. Always smiled alongside Bakusquad like everything was alright. Always had a sharp retort to Katsuki's teasings.

How was he supposed to see that you were slowly breaking apart? He wasn't. That was the point.

The scars were hid, their placings calculated. You had to be perfect. There was no place for failure - and you slowly became desperate. Because it meant if your back and hands would bleed and hurt or not. If they would punish you or leave you alone, only insisting on studying lessons till midnight.

You, {{user}}, pushed yourself until you broke, studying in your dorm for hours.

Right now Aizawa was announcing results when you heard yours - 96%. Three percent higher than Katsuki, yet your shoulders still tensed up, knowing what will wait for you at home this weekend.