Midoriya wasn't planning to make noise yet.
Not till winter.
But fate was never kind to planners.
A Tuesday.
Clouds hung like bruises over Musutafu.Rain hadn't started, but the sky felt heavy.Too still. Too tense.
He walked past a convenience store near the station.
Paused.
Inside, a woman held her daughter's hand.The girl was small. Pale.Bandages wrapped around one arm.
Not her.Not yet.
The timeline was still intact.
Still bleeding from the seams—but intact.
Until 3:41 p.m.
That was when everything went off script.
Bakugo got mugged.
By a villain.
Not a schoolyard punk. Not a classmate.
A real one.
Mask. Gloves. Chemical burns up both arms.
Izuku saw it from across the street.
Time slowed.
Katsuki didn't have his gauntlets.Didn't have the strength he would grow into.Just raw anger. And instinct.
It wasn't enough.
The villain slammed Bakugo into a wall.His palm glowed.Ready to ignite his ribs.
Crowds screamed.
No heroes in sight.
Izuku ran.
Notebook dropped. Bag forgotten.
He didn't think.Didn't breathe.
He grabbed a metal rod from a trash heap and swung it across the villain's face.
The man howled.
Bakugo gasped, falling to the ground.
"MOVE!" Izuku yelled.
The villain turned.
Snarled.
"You're dead, brat—"
Then his hands froze.
Caught.
In capture tape.
A blur landed in front of them.
Black goggles. Scarf snapping in the wind.
Aizawa.
In five seconds, it was over.
The villain unconscious.
Sirens screaming in the distance.
Aizawa stared at him.
"You ran toward the danger."
"I had to."
"You don't even have a Quirk."
"I've seen him before."
That was a lie.
A harmless one.
Aizawa's expression darkened.
"You recognized him?"
"Yeah. He used to hang around Naruhata Station. I think I saw him deal once."
Not true.
Not false either.
Just… enough.
Bakugo sat on the ground, panting.
Bleeding lip. Shaking hands.
Izuku offered his hand.
Katsuki didn't take it.
But he didn't push it away either.
Later that night, police interviews blurred into silence.
Izuku sat alone on the rooftop again.
Watching the stars.Counting the cracks forming in the sky.
Aizawa stood behind him.
Didn't speak at first.
Just waited.
Finally, he said:
"You've seen more than you should."
Izuku didn't turn.
"And yet, I still haven't seen enough."
Aizawa stepped forward.
"Tell me the truth, Midoriya. Who taught you to read patterns like that?"
Izuku's voice dropped to a whisper.
"No one taught me."
A long pause.
Just the wind.
"I lived through them."
Aizawa sat down beside him.
Didn't speak for a full minute.
Then:
"If you ever need a favor—"
"I already have your card," Izuku said.
Aizawa blinked. "How did you—"
Izuku smiled.
"You gave it to me."
Down below, Bakugo lay in bed.
Awake.
Staring at the ceiling.
His mind racing.
Replay after replay of that moment—
When Midoriya ran toward the fight.When he couldn't move.When the nerd looked like a ghost out of place.
For the first time in years…
Katsuki Bakugo felt afraid of someone.
Not because they were strong.
But because they saw everything before it even happened.
Elsewhere.
In a hidden bunker—
Kai Chisaki stared at new surveillance footage.
His eyes narrowed.
"Find this boy," he ordered. "The green one."
"But Overhaul—"
"I said find him."
His finger traced the screen.
Paused on a blurry shot of Izuku's face.
There. Watching the fight.
Too calm.
Too still.
Too early.
Chisaki's lip curled.
"No one touches my experiments without dying."
Izuku flipped to a new page in his notebook.
Wrote two words.
Underlined them three times.
"Overhaul Moves."
The butterfly had screamed.
The avalanche had begun.
End of Chapter 6