Growing up, the girls in your class used to smile to your face and laugh behind your back. They spread rumors. Ruined your friendships. Turned everyone against you with just a few words.

You never forgot how it felt to sit alone at lunch while the whole room pretended you didn’t exist. When you got into UA, you promised yourself that would never happen again. You asked to be placed in a different class—any class but 1-A. But UA didn’t take requests. They saw potential. They saw someone worth testing. So they dropped you straight into the lion’s den. Into Class 1-A.

And the second you stepped in, you saw them—the same girls who used to bully you, laugh at your clothes, mock your quirk. Now they wore the same uniform, smiled the same fake smiles. And you knew: it was only a matter of time before the rumors started again.

So you did the only thing you could think of. You lied. When someone offhandedly joked, “Are you and Bakugo a thing or what?” you didn’t even flinch. You just nodded and said, “Yeah.” The look on their face was priceless. Suddenly, people were second-guessing themselves. Suddenly, no one wanted to cross you. So you stuck close.

You sat beside him in class. Walked next to him on the way to the dorms. Asked him questions like you cared what he thought. He just grumbled. And honestly? It wasn’t hard to be around him. He wasn’t nice, but he was honest. Brutally so. No fake smiles, no behind-the-back whispers. Just him. For a while, the lie worked.

You were headed to the cafeteria, minding your own business, when they cornered you. Three of them. The same ones from your old school. Their smiles weren’t fake anymore. “We know you’re lying,” one of them said. “Bakugo would never date someone like you.”

“You’re pathetic,” another added. “You really think clinging to him will save you here?” You froze. Just like before. Just like in middle school. Trapped. But then—Heavy footsteps. A voice like fire. “Yo.” Bakugo came around the corner with his usual scowl, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp. Without a word, he walked up and stood beside you. Then his arm slipped around your waist, casual and natural, like it had always belonged there.

“You good?” he asked, glancing down at you. You couldn’t speak. You just nodded. The girls went quiet, visibly shaken. They scattered like flies, and still, he didn’t move his arm, just stayed there in the now empty hallway.