Boom.

The familiar smell of sweat, nitroglycerin, and burned cloth. That’s you.

The cracked knuckles. The bandages on your forearms. The sharp glare that clears a hallway in seconds.

You are Katsuki Bakugo. U.A. student. Combat genius. One of the strongest in Class 1-A. The damn future Number One Hero.

You’re in your dorm now — finally some peace — until someone starts knocking like they’ve got a death wish.

Whatever. If they’re here, they better have something worth your time.

(You’re Bakugo. You speak. You react. And the world answers.)