Bad start

"I'm back!" Bakugo announced loudly as he walked through the door.

"About time!" Mitsuki appeared from the hallway like a whirlwind. Her firm footsteps echoed against the floor as her sharp gaze locked onto her son. "Do you think it's okay to keep us waiting for dinner, you brat?"

Bakugo rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh. "I was training."

"Training, huh?!" Mitsuki planted her hands on her hips, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I hope that training's paying off because if I hear you got beaten by some weak villain again, I'll—"

"HUH?!" Bakugo exclaimed, offended.

Mitsuki grabbed him by the head. "Don't interrupt me, you rude little punk!" she snapped, gripping him tightly.

"Let go, you crazy old hag!" he complained, struggling unsuccessfully to break free.

Just then, Masaru appeared in the kitchen doorway, waving at the two with a calm smile. "Dinner's ready. Come before it gets cold."

Mitsuki huffed and released Bakugo with a light shove. "You're lucky, kid. Let's eat."

As she headed toward the dining room, Bakugo rubbed his head, still feeling the pressure from her grip. "What a pain..."

***

Seated at the table, the aroma of home-cooked food filled the air, and for a moment, Bakugo found himself lost in thought. That simplicity—the clinking of cutlery, the trivial arguments—was something he hadn't realized he would miss after moving into the dorms. '... how did you two feel when you found out I died?'

"Hey, Katsuki, what are you waiting for? A formal invitation?" Mitsuki teased, shooting him a sharp look as she piled another generous portion of rice on her son's plate.

"I'm already eating! And stop adding more food!" Bakugo grumbled, trying to push the heaping chopsticks of rice away.

"You're training hard for the entrance exams, so you need to eat well, son," Masaru said gently, placing an extra piece of fish on Bakugo's plate. "We just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself. It's our way of supporting you."

Bakugo paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on the now-overflowing plate of food. He took a deep breath, trying to mask any emotion that might show on his face.

"Fine, fine... I'll eat. But if I explode from overeating, it's on you!" he said, stuffing a piece of fish into his mouth.

Mitsuki let out a short laugh. "Explode, huh? Well, make sure you explode forward and pass that exam."

Bakugo rolled his eyes, chewing with determination. "Hah! as if I'd waste time failing. I'm going to pass, and I'll crush everyone there. You'd better get ready to see my name at the top of the list."

Masaru chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's our Katsuki. Just don't forget that being the best also means knowing when to accept help, son."

'I know, Dad,' Katsuki thought, keeping his eyes on his plate as he continued eating. "I don't need help!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full!"

***

When dinner was over, Bakugo got up to take the dishes to the sink. He glanced at his parents, who were now chatting animatedly about garden maintenance.

"Thanks for always supporting me," he said quietly, his back turned to them.

Mitsuki and Masaru exchanged surprised looks. Mitsuki recovered first and smiled proudly at Bakugo. "You're welcome, son."

With a quick nod, Bakugo walked toward the kitchen. 'I swear this time... I won't come back dead to you.'

***

"Hi, Bakugo."

"Good morning, Bakugo."

"B-Bakugo, you look so... so handsome today."

If there was one thing driving Bakugo closer to the edge of madness, even more than walking among people who might be dead or speculating about what could have happened after his death, it was returning to that damned school.

The stares followed him like shadows, full of admiration and respect. Before, he thrived on it—the feeling of being recognized as the best, someone above everyone else. But now, those looks felt so... hollow and undeserved.

'I'm not someone who deserves this...'

"Bakugo, can I carry your books?" The hesitant voice of a girl broke through his thoughts. She smiled, her cheeks flushed pink, as if he were some kind of untouchable celebrity.

He sighed, quickening his pace and leaving the girl behind. "I don't need help with that."

***

"That's all for today, class."

As soon as the teacher wrapped up the lesson, Bakugo stood up, only beaten in speed by Izuku, who was already heading for the door.

'Tsk, how did I not notice this suspicious behavior before?' Ignoring a group of boys inviting him to the arcade, he walked straight to the exit, his eyes locked on the path ahead. 'Anyway, I need to train like crazy too.'

***

[2 months later]

'Explosive Speed: Cluster!'

Deep in the forest, Bakugo shot through the trees like a projectile. The air seemed to tear apart around him as condensed explosions propelled his body forward at a blistering speed.

'Right.' Spotting a tree in his path, Bakugo didn't slow down. Instead, with an instinctive move, he detonated a short explosion with his left hand, adjusting his trajectory so closely that he brushed past the bark, feeling its rough texture scrape against his chest.

'Damn body.' Bakugo could already feel the strain from using Cluster for more than 10 minutes straight. His arms trembled with every explosion, and the burning sensation in his muscles only grew worse.

Frustrated with himself, he landed heavily on the ground, sliding across the dirt and using small explosions in front of his body to gradually come to a complete stop.

"Haah... haah..." He raised his arms, watching as the explosive sweat, which was usually released from his hands, was now also seeping from his arms, causing excruciating pain in the area. "Tsk... I thought two months would be enough, but my body still isn't ready... this hurts like hell."

He knew this side effect—releasing explosive sweat all over his body after overusing Cluster—would be essential for fighting in the war. That's why Bakugo had been working on making his body more resistant to explosions.

The problem was that this process was taking far longer than he had expected. 'I need to make my body as tough as my hands...'

***

[4 months later]

The long-awaited day had finally arrived: the U.A. entrance exam. Bakugo had been at the gates early, surrounded by dozens of other candidates. The tension in the air was palpable, with a variety of anxious, excited, and determined expressions written across the faces around him.

'Everything has to happen exactly as it did in the original timeline,' Bakugo thought, crossing his arms as he scanned the other candidates, spotting a few familiar faces in the crowd. 'Any deviation could completely mess up the class arrangements, and—'

"B-Good morning, K-Kacchan."

Bakugo slowly turned, finding Izuku Midoriya standing there, hesitantly waving his hand.

"Deku..." Bakugo began, his tone dripping with provocation. "So you actually had the nerve to show up here. Do you want me to kill you?"

Izuku swallowed hard. Fighting the urge to take a step back, he took a deep breath and, with all the courage he could muster, met Bakugo's eyes.

"I-I worked hard to be here today," he said, the words coming out shaky but firm in essence. "And I-I'm not going to let you scare me off today, Kacchan. I want to be a hero too!"

'Good answer,' Bakugo thought with satisfaction. For everything that was coming, Izuku would need to break out of the bubble everyone had placed him in as soon as possible. 'And I'll need to apologize to you again. This time, I won't wait until you decide to carry everything alone—'

"—I'll ensure your safety. The safety of civilians and refugees. I'll win by saving everyone, without exception."

Bakugo froze, recalling the promise he made to Izuku the day Class 1-A banded together to bring him back to U.A. 'Big words for a fool...'

"Kacchan?"

Snapping out of it, Bakugo noticed the uncertain look Izuku was giving him for staying silent. "Hah! Don't get yourself killed, you useless idiot."

Leaving Izuku standing there, somewhat bewildered, Bakugo walked into U.A.

***

'That was... strange,' Izuku Midoriya thought, still processing Kacchan's last words. Was that his way of saying "good luck"? Was he overthinking, or was Kacchan actually being nice?

I mean, ever since the incident, Kacchan hadn't done anything to him. In fact, Izuku felt like he was being avoided as much as possible.

'Did something happen that I don't know about? Is he okay—no, it doesn't matter right now!' He shook his head, trying to push away the doubts about his childhood friend. 'I need to focus on the exam. I'll figure out what's going on with Kacchan later.'

Refocusing on his goal, Izuku took a deep breath, adjusted the backpack on his shoulders, and steeled himself. 'This is the moment. My first step toward becoming a hero!'

Determined, he took his first step… and immediately tripped, his legs tangling awkwardly, sending him falling forward. 'Great start, Izuku. Congratulations.' Those were his last thoughts before his face hit the ground.

A bit ahead, a brown-haired girl was climbing the stairs to the entrance of U.A., completely unaware of the green-haired boy's tumble.

***

Arriving at the instruction hall, Bakugo dropped into his seat, still trying to organize his thoughts after remembering yet another of his broken promises.

'Focus, Katsuki. This time... this time you won't screw it up,' he thought, fixing his gaze on the stage where Present Mic was beginning to explain the exam rules. 'Everything needs to be perfect. All the pieces have to be in place...'

"Ohh, so we're not allowed to work in teams," Izuku's voice cut through his thoughts.

Bakugo shot a sidelong glance at Izuku, finally noticing the crumpled tissue pressed against his nose. 'How are you already hurt, you damn nerd?!'

Startled by the unexpected turn of events, Bakugo fully turned to face him. "What the hell are you mumbling about? And how did you already manage to injure yourself, you fragile idiot?!"

"I-I saw it on our cards. Look, I'm in A," Izuku explained, a bit intimidated, holding up his card and pointing to Bakugo's card lying crumpled on the desk, showing the different battle centers even though the numbers were sequential.

"And about the blood... I kind of tripped..." he finished, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

More than startled, Bakugo practically went into cardiac arrest when he actually read his own candidate card, which, unlike in the original timeline, listed him as #2234, Center B.

'Ah... everything's already gone to hell.'

***

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters 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 fictional.