Bakugo

The whispers started subtly. Little shoves in the hallway, glances that lingered too long, hushed conversations that stopped abruptly when I walked by. I tried to ignore it, chalking it up to the usual crap. I was Bakugo Katsuki, damn it. I didn't have time for petty bullshit. I was training to be the number one hero, and nothing was going to distract me.

But it escalated. Graffiti appeared on the walls, scrawled with my name followed by insults I wouldn't dignify by repeating. My quirk training sessions were suddenly plagued with "accidental" explosions that came a little too close for comfort. It was like a slow, insidious poison seeping into the very foundation of my life at U.A.

Then came the day that shattered everything.

I was walking back from Ground Beta, my head buzzing with the frustration of a particularly unproductive training session. I cut through the dorms, thinking a quick shower and some mindless weightlifting would clear my head. As I passed the teachers' lounge, I heard voices. All Might's booming laugh was unmistakable. Curiosity, a rare and unwelcome visitor, made me pause.

"…potential for greatness, but I worry, Aizawa," All Might was saying, his voice lower now, more serious. "His methods… his temperament… sometimes I wonder if young Bakugo is more of a villain than a hero."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. My breath hitched in my throat. Villain? Me? The words echoed in my skull, a deafening roar that drowned out everything else.

I didn't wait to hear Aizawa's response. I didn't wait to confront them, to demand an explanation. I just ran.

I burst out of the dorms, my Quirk erupting in a furious display. Explosions ripped through the air, shaking the ground beneath my feet. I ran until my lungs burned, until the U.A. campus was a distant blur behind me. I ran until the rage consumed me, until I was nothing but a raw, throbbing nerve of pain and betrayal.

The anger, the hurt, the sheer, unadulterated disbelief – it all manifested in a torrent of uncontrolled explosions. Sweat stung my eyes, and my ears rang with the constant barrage of concussive blasts. Then, something wet and thick trickled down the side of my face.

I touched my ear gingerly, my fingers coming away stained crimson. Blood. It was pouring from my ears. The ringing intensified, morphing into a high-pitched whine that seemed to burrow into my brain.

Then, darkness.

I woke up to the smell of decay and stale cigarette smoke. The air was heavy, thick with a suffocating sense of malevolence. My head throbbed, and I felt a dull, persistent ache in my ears. The room was dimly lit, but I recognized it instantly.

The League of Villains' hideout. The same place where they had tried to recruit me in my first year.

Rage surged through me, eclipsing the fear and confusion. They had kidnapped me again? I would blast them all to hell! I tried to stand, but my limbs felt heavy, unresponsive.

Then I saw them. Shigaraki, his face obscured by his hand, Dabi leaning against a wall, Toga bouncing on the balls of her feet, a manic gleam in her eyes. They were talking, their mouths moving, but I couldn't hear a damn thing.

Panic seized me. Was my Quirk damaged? Had the explosions done something to my brain? I tried to focus, to strain my ears, but all I heard was that incessant, maddening whine.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Tears of frustration, of fear, of a profound and agonizing sense of loss. I hadn't cried in years. Not since I was a kid, scraped my knee, and Mom fussed over me. Now the dam broke. I sobbed, a raw, guttural sound that echoed in the silence of my own deafened world.

"They think I'm a villain," I choked out, the words barely audible even to myself. "All Might… he said… he said I'm more of a villain than a hero…"

The League members exchanged glances. I didn't know what they were thinking, but I didn't care. I just needed to tell someone, anyone, the truth that was tearing me apart.

"I just… I wanted to be the best. I wanted to save people. But they… they hate me. They think I'm a monster…"

Suddenly, Dabi stepped forward. He held up his hands, fingers splayed in a strange configuration. It took me a moment to register what he was doing. Sign language. I'd taken a basic course in middle school after a particularly nasty explosion had temporarily deafened me in one ear. I hadn't used it in years.

He signed slowly, deliberately: What happened?

Hesitantly, I began to explain, using the rusty signs I barely remembered. I told them about the whispers, the graffiti, All Might's words, the uncontrolled explosions, the blood, the silence.

They listened, their expressions a mixture of shock and something I couldn't quite decipher. Concern? Could villains feel concern?

When I was finished, Kurogiri, the warp gate user, approached me. He gently tilted my head and examined my ears.

"The pressure from your Quirk has damaged your inner ear," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I can help."

He produced a small bottle and carefully cleaned my ears, then applied some kind of eardrops. Slowly, gradually, the ringing subsided. Sounds began to filter back in, muffled at first, then clearer, sharper.

"Can you hear me now?" Kurogiri asked.

I nodded, tears streaming down my face again. "Yes… yes, I can hear you."

Shigaraki stepped forward, his red eyes boring into mine. "The heroes have betrayed you, Bakugo. They see you as a threat. They fear your power."

He extended a hand, his fingers hovering just above my skin. "We don't. We see your potential. Join us. Embrace your true nature. Become the villain they think you are."

Without hesitation, I took his hand.

Years passed. Years of training, of bloodshed, of honing my Quirk into a weapon of unparalleled destruction. I became the villain they thought I was, and then some. I was ruthless, powerful, feared. I was everything Katsuki Bakugo was never supposed to be.

The League of Villains thrived under my leadership. We challenged the heroes, exposed their hypocrisy, and tore down the pillars of their carefully constructed society. I had carved a name for myself: Dynamight, the explosive force of chaos.

Then came the day I faced him.

The battlefield was a ravaged landscape of crumbling buildings and scorched earth. Heroes and villains clashed in a chaotic melee. I was in my element, explosions ripping through the air, incinerating anyone foolish enough to stand in my way.

Then I saw him.

Izuku.

He was different. Taller, stronger, his green eyes burning with a fierce determination. He was clad in a familiar green suit. The Number One Hero: Deku.

He paused, his eyes widening in shock as he registered who I was. His breath hitched. A flicker of pain crossed his face.

"Kacchan?" he whispered, his voice barely audible above the din of battle.

A cruel smirk spread across my face. This was too perfect.

I sauntered towards him, my hands crackling with explosive energy. "Well, well, well," I drawled, my voice laced with mock surprise. "Look who it is. Deku. Fancy meeting you here."

I leaned in close, my breath hot against his ear. "Missing me, hero?" I purred, my voice a low, suggestive rumble.

Izuku's face flushed crimson. He stammered, "K-Kacchan… how… why…?"

I chuckled, enjoying his discomfort. "Let's just say I had a change of heart," I said, my voice dripping with false sincerity. "Or maybe… I finally realized who I truly was all along."

I winked, and sent a small explosion harmlessly near his feet. "Maybe you were right, Deku. Maybe I am a villain. And maybe… you'll find you like it, too."

I watched with satisfaction as his face deepened even further. I knew Izuku. He was predictable, easy to fluster, a total pushover when it came to me. I had no intention of fighting him. Not today. Today was about planting the seeds of doubt, of confusion, of tearing apart the carefully constructed façade of the Number One Hero.

I turned away, leaving him standing there, speechless and dumbfounded. The fight had just begun after all, and I had plans to make.

As I walked away, a single thought echoed in my mind: This was going to be fun.