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The sky was overcast, thick gray clouds stretching as far as the eye could see. A cold breeze swept through the streets, rustling the trees just enough to make the leaves shudder but not quite enough to shake them loose. The sun, hidden behind the clouds, cast a dull light over the city, making everything feel sluggish, like the world itself was stuck in a slow and boring afternoon.
Within that city was Aldera Junior High, an ordinary school filled with super powered students going through the motions of an ordinary day.
Inside one of its classrooms, a boy sat by the window, his blonde, spiky hair standing out among the rows of neatly combed heads. His desk was covered in scribbles, and his textbook was open, but his eyes weren't on it. They were locked on the window, staring at nothing in particular, watching as the branches outside swayed ever so slightly in the wind.
The teacher droned on about something. Probably important, but definitely boring so he didn't care.
He sighed, his cheek resting against his palm. Just another day.
His gaze was unusually relaxed. For a kid who looked no older than fourteen, there was none of the usual high energy or curiosity. Most kids his age constantly fidgeted by tapping their feet or playing with their pencils. But him? He just sat there, calm, almost bored, like none of it mattered.
He leaned back, eyes drifting toward the window, completely unbothered. This was only because this person wasn't exactly from this world. Just some regular dude. An average job, an average apartment, average looks, and yeah, even an average d*ck size. And like any regular guy, he spent his free time watching anime, when he wasn't grinding away at a soul-crushing office job.
Now? That average guy was living in this boy's body.
'It's been five months since I suddenly spawned into this world… I don't know how I got here, but the moment I passed out after binge-watching One Piece for two straight days, I woke up here…' His red eyes shifted to the faint reflection in the window. 'Inside Bakugo's body.'
He let out a quiet sigh, placing his hands behind his head. 'Out of everyone I could've ended up as… I became Bakugo, the hothead...the guy that's always stuck in second place. If it wasn't for his god-awful attitude, he might've been the strongest at least top six in the verse. But…' His gaze flicked toward the middle of the classroom, landing on a boy with messy black-and-green hair.
'Deku...He's always been more talented. It doesn't look like it, but the way he's constantly strategizing, analyzing fights, and copying notes, makes him better than Bakugo on that aspect. That's the one thing that makes Deku superior to Bakugo… or me, for now.' He took one more deep sigh.
'Since I'm in this world, I have no choice but to live in it… and if I wanna live, then that means I have to get strong...crazy strong. With how Bakugo was at the end of the Final War arc… he was practically dead if it wasn't for plot armor…And since I'm not actually Bakugo, and I don't have that same plot armor… I'm pretty much dead. Again.' The mere thought of it made him ruffle through his hair, frustration bubbling up inside him.
If he was going to survive, he had to take advantage of everything he could. He didn't remember every single detail, but he knew enough, the important stuff. The things that mattered. 'If I can take control of the plot, shape it just enough to keep myself alive, then I might actually have a chance.' But there was a problem. Changing too much could send everything spiraling in a completely different direction, one he couldn't predict or control.
'So far, we're just around the time the plot actually starts… I don't know the exact date, but it should be anytime soon.' Although he wasn't completely sure when the canon timeline officially kicked off, he'd spent most of his time doing the only thing that mattered...training his quirk. And damn, it was hard as shit to.
Compared to Bakugo at the start of the story, his own use of the quirk was laughable. Bakugo had years to fine-tune his explosions, adjusting the output, precision, and efficiency like it was second nature. Meanwhile, he had only been using it for five months.
'People don't realize how insanely hard this quirk is to use. It's not just making things explode, it's knowing exactly how much sweat to ignite, controlling the force so you don't blow your own damn arm off, and making sure you don't gas yourself out after a few blasts. The recoil alone is a nightmare.'
His fingers twitched slightly, a faint warmth spreading through his palms as he focused on his quirk. He still had a long way to go, but if he wanted to make it through this world alive, he didn't have a choice.
He turned his gaze slightly, and with a single thought, a sleek, futuristic interface flickered into view in front of him. The translucent blue screen had faint circuit-like patterns running along its borders, giving it a high-tech look. At the top, bold golden letters glowed softly.
━─━─━─━─≪◈ SYSTEM STATUS ◈≫─━─━─━─━
[NAME] ➤ Katsuki Bakugo
[AGE] ➤ 14
[QUIRK] ➤ Explosion
◇───STATS───◇
[STRENGTH] ➤ D
[SPEED] ➤ D
[ENDURANCE] ➤ D
[INTELLIGENCE] ➤ A
◇───SKILLS───◇
Palm Explosion ➤ LVL.1
(The ability to generate and control nitroglycerin-based explosions from the palms. Current control - Basic.)
━─━─━─━─≪◆≫─━─━─━─━
'Like the usual fanfics, I got a system… but it does absolutely jack shit except show my stats. No quests, no gacha...just a constant reminder of how dog shit my stats are. Still, one thing caught me off guard. My intelligence was rated A. I didn't expect that. But thinking about it, Bakugo might have an explode-everything attitude, but he's actually pretty damn smart.' Bakugo thought, ruffling his hand down his face.
Bakugo actually has an insane level of battle IQ, but he lacks the emotional intelligence so he always comes off as a cocky dumb jock. Against Deku in the Battle Trial, he realized Deku had studied his moves and adapted on the spot, faking attacks to bait him into openings. Even against Nine (Heroes Rising, if y'all don't know.), he synced perfectly with Deku, using precise timing and teamwork.
Even when he was facing Shigaraki, he didn't just rush in, he analyzed his regeneration and attacked weak points, even making the calculated decision to take a hit for Deku to keep him in the fight.
Bakugo groaned. 'Still… my other stats are dog shit, even after training until it felt like my arms were about to fall off.' No matter how hard he pushed himself, it felt like he was running in place. He wasn't expecting some overnight transformation, but something should've improved by now. He's been training for five months straight after all.
He let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his temples.
The status screen faded from view as he shut his eyes briefly.
"Baku-san… are you okay?" A whispered voice came from the side.
Slowly opening his eyes, he turned his head, meeting the gaze of a boy his age. He had long black hair that reached his neck, his bangs slightly covering his sharp eyes. Like everyone else in class, he was wearing the standard black school uniform.
Before Bakugo could answer, another voice chimed in from a seat over.
"Yeah, are you okay, Baku-san?"
This one had short, spiky, messy hair and the same uniform. His brows were slightly furrowed in concern.
Instantly, a vein throbbed on Bakugo's forehead. He didn't know why, but the way they asked if he was okay felt like they were mocking him. Like they thought he was weak or something. 'For some reason, I still get super pissed off when someone even asks for a damn pencil…' He took a breather, steadying his nerves. No point in getting worked up over a couple of background characters.
Leaning back in his chair, he glanced to the side. "Yeah…" he muttered, keeping his response short.
He wasn't interested in talking to these guys. They barely had any screen time in the original story...hell, he could hardly remember their names. What was the point of interacting with people who'd fade into irrelevance the moment the plot kicked off?
'Fucking… waste of drawing,' he thought bitterly.
The two boys exchanged awkward glances, shifting uncomfortably before looking back at him.
One of them hesitated, then opened his mouth again. "Are you sur—"
Bakugo's eye twitched.
*KABUUSSSH*
"ASK ME THAT AGAIN! I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF, YOU FUCKING EXTRA!" Bakugo's palm snapped open, and with a sharp crack, a miniature explosion flared to life, cutting the boy off mid-sentence. The sudden burst of light and heat made him jolt back, nearly tipping his chair over.
The classroom froze with every pair of eyes snapping towards him.
"BAKUGO!"
The teacher's voice rang out from the front of the room, sharp and reprimanding. "You know the rules! No quirks allowed in school!"
Bakugo sighed once more, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. 'Shit… I didn't even mean to say that. But damn, that pissed me off.' He forced his hands into his pockets, the fabric muffling the subtle tremor still left in his fingers from the explosion. "Sorry, sir," he muttered.
Silence.
The whole class was still staring at him, some shifting in their seats, others holding their breath like they were waiting for him to snap again. Even the two guys who'd spoken to him earlier didn't say a word.
"Umm... Alright, just be careful next time... Now, continue with the lesson."
The teacher's voice cut through the silence, snapping the class back into focus. Slowly, students turned their attention away, some whispering under their breath, others acting like nothing happened.
Bakugo leaned back in his chair. 'Right... These guys are used to the arrogant asshole of a prick named Bakugo.'
No one looked that surprised. If anything, they just seemed relieved he wasn't making a bigger scene. That's what Bakugo did, after all—yelled, exploded, and acted like he was king of the damn world.
But he wasn't Bakugo. Not really.
And if he wanted to survive, he couldn't afford to be the same mindless rage machine as the original.
BRRRRRRRRRRING!!
The shrill ring of the school bell echoed through the classroom, signaling the end of another day. Chairs scraped against the floor, and the low hum of students packing their bags filled the room.
"Before you all leave," the teacher's voice cut through the noise, making a few students pause, "don't forget to submit your applications for the Hero Academies you want to attend. I imagine most of you will be aiming for U.A. High, given its prestige."
There was a murmur of excitement among the students. U.A. was the dream for most of them. The top hero school, home to legends. For some, it was just that, a dream. But for others, it was the only option.
Bakugo barely paid attention as he grabbed his bag, slinging it over one shoulder. But just as he turned to leave, movement in the corner of his eye made him stop.
Across the room, his two "friends", if he could even call them that, were making their way toward a familiar figure.
Midoriya.
Who was lost in his notes, so deep in thought he didn't even hear the school bell ring. His pen hovered over the page, unmoving.
Out of nowhere, a hand smacked against his notebook. Midoriya flinched as the notebook flew from his hands, landing on the floor with a dull slap.
"Oops," sneered the long-haired one, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Didn't see you there, Deku."
"Yeah," chimed in the other, a blockheaded idiot with teeth for sharks. "What's a quirkless loser like you even gonna write in that thing? Notes on how to not be a hero?" He laughed like he just cracked the funniest joke in the world.
Before Midoriya could say anything, before they could even push it further—
BANG!
A loud thud shook the desk as Bakugo slammed his fist onto it, making both of them jolt. The classroom, though already clearing out, went pin-drop silent in their corner.
Bakugo slowly turned his gaze toward them, his red eyes filled with red lines in the corner of his eyes. "Oi… what the hell do you two think you're doing?" His voice was calm, too calm. And that was worse.
The long-haired one blinked. "We were just messing aroun—"
"Shut the fuck up, boner fingers." Bakugo's lip curled. "The hell kinda genes did your parents cook up for you? A discount octopus with erectile dysfunction?"
The other guy, the guy with the messy hair, tried to step in. "Hey, man, we're just—"
Bakugo turned to him, his glare intensifying, " You wanna die..?"
The two stiffened under his gaze, "I already told you morons before...quit messing with him," Bakugo snapped, jerking his chin toward Midoriya. "He's not doing anything wrong. You dumbasses still don't get it? Next time you try this shit…" His palm cracked with a faint pop as tiny sparks flickered from his fingertips. "I'll personally burn you both to a crisp."
Midoriya, who had been silent this whole time, swallowed thickly. "K-Kacchan…"
Bakugo ignored him, keeping his focus on the two idiots in front of him. "Got it?"
Both of them frantically nodded before scurrying away like kicked dogs.
With them gone, Bakugo let out an irritated huff before turning his attention to Midoriya. "You good?"
Midoriya hesitated, rubbing his arm. "Y-Yeah… I'm fine."
Bakugo clicked his tongue before crouching down, grabbing the discarded notebook off the floor. With a quick brush of his hand to wipe the dust, he held it out.
"Here."
Midoriya hesitated before taking it, his grip careful. "Thanks, Kacchan."
Bakugo didn't reply. He just shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. "Later, ner-...Deku."
And just like that, he left.
The entire class fell silent, stunned. Even the teacher, who should've sent the three to the office, hesitated, unable to find the courage to step in.
But in that moment, they all had the same thought.
'Is that really Bakugo?...'
. . . . .
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( A/N: The system isn't here to hand out power ups or make things easy, it's just a way to show how much the MC has grown. Instead of constantly spelling it out, you can get a rough idea of his progress in a numerical sense... )