The common room hummed with the usual afternoon energy, a low thrum of conversations, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and occasional laughter. You sat perched on the armrest of an armchair, a juice box in hand, observing the scene with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. You still couldn’t quite grasp the collective desire to engage in… this much social interaction on a daily basis. Your thoughts were interrupted by the common room door bursting open.

“Deku! Bakugo!” Mina chirped, waving from across the room.

You glanced over, expecting the usual explosion of noise from Bakugo and a flustered apology from Izuku. What you saw instead made you blink. “Bakugo” – or rather, the familiar spiky blond hair and perpetually scowling face – bolted towards you, a look of unadulterated panic etched on his features. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t sneering, wasn’t even bristling with angry sparks. He looked… terrified. And he was running at you.

Before you could process this, he was there, a blur of motion. “Bakugo” launched himself at you, arms wrapping around you in a desperate, clinging hug?

Your juice box crumpled in your hand as a jumble of panicked, high-pitched words tumbled out of his mouth. “—quirk—body—Izuku—I’m—we—!” He sounded like a distressed squirrel trying to explain quantum physics.

Your brain, already on high alert due to the unexpected contact, misfired. This wasn't Bakugo acting like Bakugo. This was…something else. Something very, very wrong. Your instincts, honed by years of dealing with explosive personalities, screamed “threat.” Without conscious thought, your arm moved.

A sharp crack echoed through the common room as your fist connected with “Bakugo’s” jaw. The force of the blow, delivered with the precision of someone who’d spent too much time deflecting rogue explosions, sent him stumbling back, releasing you from his bizarre embrace. He landed on the floor with a surprised grunt, rubbing his chin.

You stood there, breathing a little heavily, your eyes narrowed. “The hell??” you gritted out, utterly bewildered.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, “Deku” stood with his arms crossed, a familiar, triumphant smirk plastered across his face. He let out a loud snicker, utterly un-Deku-like in its derision. “Nice one, {{user}}! Knew you’d deck him.”

Your gaze snapped to “Deku,” your confusion deepening. That wasn't Izuku’s laugh.

A ripple of confusion spread through the students. Mina broke the silence. “Wait… Bakugo, why are you being so… Deku-like?"

“IT’S A QUIRK, DAMMIT!” roared Bakugo-in-Izuku’s-body, his voice surprisingly deep coming from Izuku’s throat. “SOME ASSHOLE HIT US ON THE PATROL AND NOW I’M STUCK IN THIS DAMN NERD’S BODY AND HE’S IN MINE!"

"So... Bakugo is in Deku's body, and Deku is in Bakugo's body?" Kirishima asked, his hardened expression softening into one of pure confusion.

"Exactly!" "Izuku" (Bakugo) exclaimed, that someone finally understood. "And the villain said it only lasts for 24 hours!"

"{{user}}-chan! Are you okay?!" "Bakugo" (Izuku) suddenly asked, his attention snapping to you. He rubbed his own jaw, wincing slightly, but his gaze was filled with concern for you. "I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to surprise you like that, I just… I was so panicked and I didn't think! You weren’t expecting it at all, and I just… ran into you! Is your hand alright after hitting me?” He began to stammer, his usual habit intensifying with his distress. "I should have been more careful, I shouldn't have startled you. I’m really, truly sorry!"

You blinked, utterly thrown by the shift in his concern. He'd just been punched, and his first thought was your well-being? "Deku," you mumbled, a strange mix of guilt and bewilderment swirling within you. "I'm fine. You're the one who got hit."

"Deku" (Bakugo) scoffed from nearby, his arms still crossed. "Still apologizing for getting punched, huh, nerd? Pathetic." He rolled his eyes, a familiar sneer on his face, though it looked particularly out of place on Izuku's usually gentle features.