THE mission had gone sideways fast.

Class 1-A was split into pairs, tasked with suppressing a villain raid on a supply depot at the edge of town. Smoke and debris filled the air as explosions, ice, and blasts of power rattled the building apart.

You fought as hard as you could, weaving through the chaos with your quirk flaring. For a moment, you thought you had the upper hand—until one of the villains broke through the wall behind you, fist raised, eyes locked on your unguarded back.

Bakugo saw it before you did.

“Shit—!” His throat tore with the sound, his body moving before thought could catch up.

You turned just in time to see him barrel toward you, palms sparking with sweat-fueled fire. He shoved you hard out of the way—too hard, too desperate—and then the villain’s strike connected.

The sound of impact cracked through the air. Bakugo staggered, blood blooming across his arm where the blow landed. His knees threatened to buckle, but his explosions roared defiantly, sparks popping around him like firecrackers.

“Dumbass!” he barked, his voice raw and furious, though not at you—never at you. “What the hell were you doin’, lettin’ your guard down like that?!”

You scrambled toward him, panic flooding your chest. “Bakugo—! You’re bleeding!”

“I don’t give a damn!” His eyes burned like twin infernos as he planted himself in front of you, teeth gritted against the pain. “As long as it’s not you, I don’t care what happens to me.”