⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Y/N SMIRKED, LOWERING HER LEGS and propping her elbow on the desk instead to drop her chin into her hand.

"Did you hear me, idiot?!" Bakugo yelled, small crackling sounds and the smell of volatile petroleum filling the room as explosions blossomed under his curled hands. "I said this was my seat! Get out of it!"

"How cute," Y/N said to no one in particular, perhaps internally blushing that those were her first words to the infamous Bakugo Katsuki, but not showing it. "He thinks he can make me move."

"You're that telekinetic asshole, right?" the blond folded his arms. "I bet you think you're so powerful. But I'm Number One here. And you're not. So move it."

Y/N didn't.

The class was mildly impressed, but then switched to worrying about the interesting girl as Bakugo raised his hand.

Without even blinking, Y/N wiggled her fingers in a quick but precise movement, making the boy's arm drop back to his side. 

She smirked, trying not to show the effect that even that small action had had on her. Damn it.

Weariness settled into her, and she probably would've collapsed if she wasn't lying down.

"Not so explosive now, are we?" 

Denki cheered. "I told you all she was great!"

"Tch. Okay, you obviously take pride in your observational skills, from what you said to Deku," Bakugo reasoned, slamming his palms on Y/N's desk. "Let me make some deductions for you."

Well. This was an unexpected turn of events.

"You enrolled at UA, not at some other loser school like Shiketsu or a local one. That means you care about your education, and given your uniform, you probably care about rules and obedience as well," Bakugo explained, the angry undertone in his voice that Y/N was beginning to think was permanent not wavering. 

"What if I told you that I was student number 17 - and that according to classroom rules, this is my seat?"

Y/N winced. He'd chased her into a corner. Technically, everything he'd said was correct, but she really didn't want to give him the satisfaction of pushing her out of her seat.

But the door was creaking like it was being opened by someone not at all eager to enter (presumably the teacher) and Y/N knew when to pick her battles.

"Fuck you," she hissed, quickly spinning to sit in the empty seat behind Midoriya as Bakugo fell triumphantly into his seat. 

The door opened, and Y/N had to do a double take.

There was ... no one there. Was their teacher invisible ... some relative of the seemingly floating school uniform?

But then Y/N stood up to get a better look, and had to stifle a gasp. "Is that ... a caterpillar?"

"Do I look like a fucking caterpillar?" the bright yellow thing on the floor grumbled, and Y/N realised three things.

One - that was a sleeping bag. Two - someone was in it. Three - the someone was their teacher.

The sleeping bag stood up, revealing a face with sleep-sunken eyes and surrounded by limp black hair. The man unzipped his sleeping bag and stepped out of it, prompting Y/N to quickly fall back into her seat.

"I'm Aizawa Shota ... your homeroom teacher," he mumbled, his voice slurred by sleep. "Put your books away, you don't need them."

Aizawa gestured towards the wall, and a section of it slid outwards, revealing twenty briefcases with the student numbers Bakugo had earlier referenced. Y/N took a quick headcount of the room - she was number 19, and grabbed the according suitcase.

"Those are your sport uniforms," Aizawa explained. "Put them on - we're going to test your Quirks."

Oh, shit.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

"Trackpants," Y/N grumbled to Kaminari, pulling on her shirt-sleeves. "Are we going to be running in trackpants?"

Kaminari shrugged. "This is UA. We could end up rodeo-riding robots next Wednesday, for all we know."

She shrugged at his sadly true comment, windmilling her arms in a tired attempt at stretching. 

Aizawa came to the front of the gathered class of 20, with a daunting amount of PE equipment behind him, a baseball and some kind of measuring device in his hands. "In middle school, you weren't allowed to use your Quirks in class. UA is ... different."

"You can say that again," someone muttered, and Y/N almost had to slap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

"Bakugo Katsuki," Aizawa pointed, and the boy slouched forwards. "Use your Quirk, and throw this as far as you can."

He took the ball and threw it up and down once to get a sense of its weight, before turning back to Y/N, giving her a challenging smirk (with a touch of a death glare) and hurling the ball at the sky with a loud explosion and an even louder 'war cry'.

"... die?" Midoriya blinked rapidly.

Y/N was more concerned with the numbers on the distance device and how she was going to beat them.

705.2 metres didn't make her chances look too sunny.

But she had to beat him. She needed to.

Why? Because if there was one thing Y/L/N Y/N and Bakugo Katsuki had in common, it was their pride. Each possessed the inability to lose to each other. 

Y/N was mad at Bakugo for winning one over her.

Bakugo was mad at Y/N because she made him look bad in front of the class.

And as Y/N came forwards to try the challenge next, she shouldered past her new enemy as forcefully as she could, with a withering glare.

"Watch me," she whispered to him, grabbing a new ball.

She didn't know how. But she was going to win.

After all the prices she'd paid, she couldn't afford to lose.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

thank you for reading this
book and i hope you enjoy it!
~ jazzi

fuck this, i changed it, are you guys happy?