The next hour was controlled chaos with Hayashi-sensei trying to maintain normal classroom atmosphere while Bakugo radiated barely contained rage from two feet away. Every few minutes he'd shift in his seat, and I could practically feel the heat coming off him.
"Now, if we look at the Battle of Sekigahara..." Hayashi droned on, pointing at his crude battlefield sketch on the blackboard.
I took notes partly because the subject was actually interesting, and partly because half the class kept sneaking glances at me instead of paying attention. The other half watched Bakugo like he was a ticking time bomb.
Which he pretty much was.
A folded paper landed on my desk. I opened it discreetly.
*Are you really friends with Bakugo?*
I glanced around, caught the eye of a brown-haired girl in the second row trying to look casual while obviously waiting for my response.
*Define "friends,"* I wrote back.
When she read it, she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.
Another note, different direction: *What's your quirk really? Rumors say you fought a villain.*
This one from a boy near the window who looked like he lived on hero magazines.
*It's complicated,* I replied.
Then someone from the back threw a paper that wasn't very well aimed. Whether by accident or design, I couldn't tell, but it should have hit me in the head. Instead, it stopped about eight centimeters away, just floating there.
"Damn, it's floating," the thrower said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
The entire class, including Hayashi, turned to stare at the suspended paper note hovering near my head.
*Might as well own it.*
I turned around to look at the boy with stretchy fingers who'd thrown it. "You're probably curious, but don't throw stuff at my head."
Silence. Then the classroom exploded into whispered conversations and barely contained excitement.
By the time the bell rang, I had a small collection of notes asking everything from quirk details to relationship status to U.A. application plans. Teenage social dynamics were apparently universal across dimensions.
Hayashi looked relieved when the period ended. "Ten-minute break before English. Takumi-san, could I speak with you?"
The classroom erupted into chatter the moment he stopped talking. I made my way to his desk while students filtered into the hallway.
"How are you adjusting?" he asked quietly.
"Fine. Though I might have underestimated how much attention I'd draw."
He chuckled. "You made quite an entrance. Bakugo's not usually so explosive during class."
"I know him. Saved his ass once. His inferiority complex is showing."
Hayashi studied my face. "Your mother mentioned you might have difficulty with social situations due to your circumstances. But you seem to be handling things well."
"I adapt quickly."
"Good. Just try to keep the antagonism to a minimum. I'd rather not explain to the principal why my classroom spontaneously combusted."
"I'll do my best."
As I turned to leave, he called after me. "If you need anything—academic support, counseling, someone to talk to—don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you."
---
During the break, the classroom transformed into a social minefield. Students clustered in their usual groups, but everyone kept glancing at me while I organized my notes. Several brave souls had approached throughout the morning—mostly girls asking about my quirk or boys wanting details about the villain fight—but I'd deflected most questions with polite non-answers and that slightly amused smile.
Bakugo hadn't moved from his seat either, but the air around him practically vibrated with hostility. His friends had tried their usual morning gossip, but he'd responded with grunts and glares.
The tension was thick enough to cut.
"This is like a nature documentary," someone whispered. "Right before the predators fight over territory."
"Except we're all potential collateral damage," her friend replied nervously.
Finally, Bakugo reached his limit. He stood so abruptly his chair scraped the floor with a harsh screech, drawing everyone's attention.
"Hey," he said, voice deceptively calm. "Takumi."
I looked up from my notes. "Yes?"
"We need to talk."
Dead silence. Even students in the hallway seemed to sense something important happening and drifted closer.
"Do we?" I asked mildly.
"Yeah. We do." His hands were starting to smoke.
I smiled, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Well, if you're about to confess, I'm flattered, but—"
BOOM!
The explosion left a charred mark on the top of his desk.
"That was unnecessary," I said calmly.
Everyone could see Bakugo twitching on the edge of total breakdown. Everyone had to swallow hard. Everyone except me.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Learning basic algebra, apparently."
"You think this is a game? You show up out of nowhere, mess with my head, move in next door like some rom-com protagonist—"
I raised an eyebrow. "So you do watch rom-coms?"
"I'M SERIOUS!"
I sighed. "I'm just here for school. How does my being here bother you that much?"
His eyes blazed. "You don't belong here. You're an unknown. I don't care if we were 'friends' as kids. And I can overlook you going to U.A. But you and your smug face are supposed to be anywhere but here. I'm the strongest in this school. This is MY territory."
Murmurs spread around the class.
"U.A.? He's going to U.A.?"
"Is his quirk really that strong?"
"Bakugo thinks he can get in. That means something."
"Two U.A. applicants in one class."
"Three if you count Midoriya."
"Are we seriously counting Midoriya?"
Their words seemed to infuriate Bakugo even more.
I chuckled, opening a textbook without a care in the world. "So your problem is that I'm strong enough to challenge your claim on your 'territory,' right?"
The words hit like a physical blow.
"You? Challenge me? Please. You're just an extra. I'm the talented one here. Got that?"
"Loud and clear, mon capitaine. Now get off my table if you don't mind. I prefer to set my books down, not hold them."
"YOU CLEARLY AREN'T GETTING IT! YOU DON'T GET TO TALK TO ME THAT WAY. NO ONE IN THIS SCHOOL GETS TO TALK TO ME THAT WAY!"
"Well, the teachers do. Or do you disrespect them too?"
"YOU'RE NOT A TEACHER!"
"Then treat me like one. You wouldn't be here ranting with spit flying everywhere if you truly thought I was beneath you."
I flipped a page casually. "Just make up your mind already. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had an inferiority complex."
Those were the words that broke him.
"SHUT UP YOU BASTARD!"
He roared, shoving his hand toward my face.
BOOM!
____
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