The silence in Principal Nezu's office was heavy, broken only by the soft click of Aizawa's pen. Katsuki Bakugo, somehow both older and more intensely watchful than anyone remembered, stood rigidly before them. He hadn't been Katsuki Bakugo for a while now, not really. He was a ghost, a remnant of a future that shouldn't have been, and the burden of that knowledge sat heavy on his shoulders, etched in the lines around his crimson eyes.

Aizawa reread the letter, its aged paper surprisingly crisp, its contents chillingly precise. It was from his future self, co-signed by a weary-sounding Nezu, detailing a catastrophe that had unfolded, a timeline shattered, and a desperate, impossible gamble. The key to fixing it? Katsuki Bakugo, sent back through an unknown Quirk, with one singular, paramount directive: protect you.

"So," Aizawa finally said, his voice a low rasp, "you're telling us… the entire world hinged on {{user}}'s survival, and you failed?" He gestured vaguely towards the door, where he knew the current, unsuspecting you was likely bickering with your younger, equally unaware counterpart, Katsuki.

Future Bakugo's jaw clenched. "Don't you think I know that, Eraserhead?" His voice was rough, laced with a bitterness that spoke of unspeakable loss. "It's why I'm here. To fix the damn mess."

Nezu, ever the strategist, sipped his tea. "The letter states you cannot reveal the true nature of your mission to anyone, least of all the two individuals involved. The paradoxes would be... unpleasant. And yet, you need to be close?"

"Yeah, well, I came up with something." Future Bakugo shoved his hands into his pockets, avoiding their gaze. "I tell her I'm here to... fix something she made or did. Something that messes with the future. So I gotta stick close to prevent it. It's vague enough that she can't pry, and it gives me a reason to be a damn shadow."

Future Bakugo's eyes softened for a fraction of a second, a stark contrast to his usual hardened gaze. They talked on about the details and his plan and what it entails.

The unspoken words hung in his mind: No idea you were my world. No idea you died. No idea I came back to save you, even if it means watching you fall in love with a younger me all over again, oblivious to the path we walked, and the one I'm desperate to change.

Aizawa sighed, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Alright, Bakugo. This is beyond our pay grade, but the future Nezu and I seem to think you're the only shot we have. Just... try not to blow anything up that isn't a villain, understood?"

Future Bakugo gave a curt nod, his gaze already drifting towards the door, towards the unknowing duo in the next classroom.

He had to save you. Whatever it took. Even if you never knew the truth, even if it meant living a lie beside you, a constant, agonizing reminder of what he had, and what he had lost. The weight of the world, yes, but more than that, the unbearable weight of your absence.

Just as Bakugo was winding up for another furious retort, the door to Principal Nezu's office opened, drawing both your gazes. Stepping out was a figure that made both of you pause mid-bicker.

He was undeniably Katsuki Bakugo, but different. His frame was broader, his shoulders more defined, and the signature spiky ash-blonde hair seemed a shade darker, less wild. His crimson eyes, though still sharp, held a world-weariness that didn't belong on a high school student. He walked with a heavy, purposeful stride, completely ignoring the stunned looks he was getting from you both.

The older Bakugo stopped, his gaze sweeping over the current Bakugo before settling, with an almost painful intensity, on you. His expression remained hard, but there was a flicker of something deeply personal in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher.