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***
Alone, Bakugo left the gym and headed toward the studio where support items were made.
'They kept the contents of the letter secret'. The anonymous letter sent to U.A. during the villains' attack on the U.S.J. had been his doing, obviously. It didn't say much—just that villains were attacking with a modified human called a Nomu, designed to kill All Might. And that thing was absurdly powerful.
That had been the backup plan in case everything went wrong.
'And it almost did...' He bit the inside of his cheek, the bitter taste of failure rising in his throat. 'I wanted to play it safe, keep the main events as intact as possible while shifting the pieces in our favor. How arrogant. Since the entrance exam, I knew that small changes brought big consequences, but I still thought I could control everything. And because of that, I put everyone in even greater danger than in the original timeline—and Aizawa lost an arm...'
Bakugo stopped walking, staring at his scarred hand. 'I tried to be the strategist, but that's not who I am. I'm the guy who acts, who charges forward. And that's what I'm going to do. Even if I... even if I have to face my biggest regrets.'
***
Arriving at the studio where the support department created their gear, Bakugo didn't hesitate—he pushed the door open.
The place was a mess. Students from the support department worked at cluttered benches filled with tools, parts, and prototypes—probably for the Sports Festival. The sounds of welding and buzzing machines halted for a moment when he entered, and all eyes turned toward him.
"That guy's not from our class," someone murmured.
"Isn't that the famous one from 1-A?" another asked.
"Bakugo Katsuki?!"
"It's him!"
"Hey, you're not allowed in here!" one student shouted, pointing a screwdriver at him. "You guys are already privileged and now you're trying to spy on our ideas for the Festival?!"
Bakugo swept the room with a sharp gaze, memorizing every face. 'All of you… died with me that day?' The memory hit like a punch, but he pushed it aside. 'Focus. Like the old man taught me.' He closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and faced the students.
"Relax, I'm not here to snoop," Bakugo said, raising a hand. "I'm looking for a friend."
The students exchanged suspicious glances. One of them, a skinny guy with crooked glasses, crossed his arms. "A friend? Here? Who?"
'What was her name again?' Bakugo thought for a second, trying to remember the girl's name. "... Hakume?"
A murmur spread across the studio. Some laughed, others rolled their eyes. A girl with messy blue hair tied in a loose bun stepped forward, wiping her hands on a grease-stained cloth.
"You meant Hatsume? She's over there in the corner, building something that'll probably explode." She pointed to the back of the studio, where a pile of wires and parts looked on the verge of collapse.
Bakugo nodded, ignoring the curious stares, and walked toward the indicated spot.
In the corner of the studio, Mei Hatsume was hunched over a workbench, goggles pushed up on her forehead and a manic grin on her face. A bizarre-looking contraption, full of tubes and blinking lights, took up most of the space in front of her.
"Hey, you," Bakugo said, stopping beside her. "I want you to make something for me."
Mei didn't even look up, completely absorbed as she twisted a screwdriver inside the device.
"Hey!" Bakugo snapped his fingers right in front of her face, patience wearing thin. "I'm talking to you!"
Mei finally blinked, lifting her eyes with a mix of irritation and curiosity. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy with my baby here?" She gave the contraption a loving pat, which responded with a worrying spark of fire.
"Your... baby can wait," Bakugo shot back, taking a strategic step backward. "I want you to make something for me."
Mei frowned. "Equipment? Now? I don't have time! The Sports Festival is right around the corner and I've got a thousand babies to finish!" She gestured to the rest of the workbench, where other equally chaotic inventions fought for space.
'Tsk, what a pain. How am I gonna convince her?...' Bakugo wrestled with the thought before speaking. "Listen, if you help me, I'll say your name and how good your... babies are when I win the festival."
Mei's eyes lit up like spotlights, and she finally dropped the screwdriver, spinning in her chair to face him. "Seriously?! You'll promote my babies in front of everyone?!—Wait a sec! How do I know you're gonna win?"
Bakugo raised an eyebrow. "You don't know who I am?"
Mei tilted her head, confused. "No?"
"Bakugo Katsuki," he said, waiting for the click of recognition.
"And…?" Mei blinked, genuinely clueless.
'Damn Izuku. You forgot to mention this girl's completely scatterbrained!' Fighting the urge to blow something up, he shoved a hand into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and typed in his own name. "Here. Look at this." He turned the screen to her, scrolling through a list of headlines: "Student Shines in Entrance Exam", "UA's Rising Star", "Bakugo Katsuki Injured in Villain Attack at U.A."
Mei's eyes darted from headline to headline. "So... you're famous!"
"Yes. And if you help me, I'll advertise your junk at the Festival," Bakugo said, pocketing the phone. "But there's one condition: what I want is classified. No reports, no telling anyone—not even a teacher. Got it?"
"Deal!" Mei exclaimed, clearly thrilled. "Total secrecy, no problem! My babies love a little secret!" She stood up, goggles sliding over her eyes. "So, what do you need? Something that flies? Explodes? Protection? Or all three?!"
"First, I want you to lower your voice!" Bakugo ordered, pushing her back into the chair. "And it's nothing flashy. What I want you to make is a glove."
***
Exhausted as he left the studio, Bakugo leaned against the hallway wall, his body heavy as lead. 'That lunatic is a hurricane.' He ran a hand over his face, trying to sort out his thoughts after the marathon that was talking to Mei.
'I just want to crash into my bed and pass out,' Bakugo thought, starting to walk toward U.A.'s exit.
As he crossed the main gate, the fresh air of the day hit his face. The streets were calm, filled with the distant hum of cars and the occasional murmur of pedestrians. Bakugo kept his head down, brow furrowed, lost in thought.
But the steady rumble of an engine keeping pace beside him made him slow down. He looked up, squinting as he spotted a black limousine at his side. 'What the hell is this?'
The rear window rolled down with a low hum, revealing a woman with light-blue skin. "Hi, Bakugo-kun, remember me?"
***
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.