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#The pre-dawn sky bled a pale orange over the ragged silhouettes of trees in the abandoned park. A cool mist clung to the ground
winxanity-ii · 22 days
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⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 09 Chapter 09 | sparks and schemes⌟
╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝
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❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘
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The pre-dawn light filtered through your curtains, painting the room in soft hues of gray and blue. You stirred, a slow smile playing on your lips as you remembered the night's events months ago.
The thought of attending U.A., a mere suggestion transformed into a reality, held a strange allure. It wasn't the prospect of heroism that excited you, but the promise of something new, a crack in the monotony of your existence.
Reaching for your phone, you saw a message from Bakugo.
𝐏𝐎𝐌-𝐏𝐎𝐌 𝐏𝐔𝐏 Be at the entrance by 7:30 sharp Don't be late. Or else.
The last sentence was punctuated with a single, explosive exclamation mark, a classic Bakugo signature. You chuckled softly, a low rumble in your chest. "Good puppy," you murmured to yourself, the nickname taking on a new meaning in your mind.
The rest of the morning unfolded in a leisurely manner. Unlike Bakugo, who likely woke up at the crack of dawn and launched himself into some pre-exam training ritual, you opted for a more relaxed approach.
You lounged around in your room, absentmindedly squeezing and stretching one of your mother's many stress balls. Each satisfying squish was a small rebellion against the looming entrance exam, a reminder that the facade of normalcy you maintained still held some power.
As you contemplated the upcoming challenges, a detached amusement settled over you. You envisioned the predictable strategies of the other hopeful heroes, and found yourself lacking any real sense of anticipation. It all seemed so… ordinary.
Just then, the shrill blare of your alarm clock pierced the quiet. With a sigh, you acknowledged that even an eternity could feel dull after a while. The entrance exam awaited, and with it, a chance to stir things up a bit.
A glint of something akin to excitement flickered in your yellow eyes.
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You arrived at the bustling entrance of U.A. High, the air thick with nervous energy. Students milled about, a cacophony of excited chatter and worried mumbles filling the air.
Many wore the familiar uniforms of middle schools across the city, their faces a mix of determined anticipation and nervous trepidation.
There were fewer students in your own school uniform, a fact you noted with a detached curiosity.
Dodging a group of overenthusiastic students launching into a mock battle with invisible opponents, you were about to turn a corner and find a quiet spot to observe the chaos when you were suddenly slammed into by a blur of pink.
A yelp escaped the source of the collision, a girl who shot back upright with impressive speed. She bowed deeply, her apologies tumbling out in a rapid-fire stream of words. "Oh my Gods, I am so incredibly sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going and—"
She cut herself off as she finally got a good look at you. Her large, black sclerae widened, the yellow irises in the center seeming to vibrate. A deep blush bloomed across her cheeks, the light pink of her skin turning a shade closer to crimson.
You tilted your head, a bemused smile playing on your lips. For a moment, you thought you might have broken her, or perhaps she'd hit her head during the collision.
Reaching out cautiously, you brushed a finger against the side of her face, expecting to encounter some sort of injury. Your finger met smooth skin, cool and flawless.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" you asked, your voice laced with a gentle concern that came naturally to you, a habit you'd picked up from your overly nurturing mother. Internally, you cursed your ingrained politeness, wondering if a more callous approach might have been more appropriate.
The girl seemed to short-circuit for a moment, her already wide eyes bulging even further. She stammered, her words tripping over each other in a frantic jumble. Finally, she managed to blurt out a single, incoherent sentence.
"Y-you're so hot, oh my Gods, ignore me!" With that, she spun on her heel and bolted away, her pink curls bouncing with each hurried step.
You blinked, left standing there with a bewildered expression slowly morphing into amusement. Here you were, about to infiltrate the most prestigious hero academy in the country, and your first encounter was with a lovestruck ball of pink. 
It was a bizarre start to the day, a stark contrast to the steely resolve you'd steeled yourself with. But a flicker of amusement danced in your yellow eyes. U.A. was certainly proving to be... interesting.
"Well, wasn't that an exit," a voice drawled, snapping you out of your thoughts. Turning your head, you came face to face with a boy who looked every bit the part of a bored aristocrat.
He was of average height, his blond hair styled in a way that seemed designed to perpetually obscure one eye. His periwinkle blue irises, framed by dark lashes, were half-closed in a look of perpetual disdain. A sardonic smirk played on his lips, completing the picture of someone utterly unimpressed by the bustling activity around him.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this unexpected encounter.
There was something about him, a subtle aura of entitlement mixed with a hint of hidden potential, that piqued your curiosity.
While the other students exuded nervous energy or boisterous enthusiasm, this blond boy stood out with his air of detached amusement.
A faint whisper, "Denji," echoed in your head, a fleeting association you couldn't help but cling onto.
Deciding to give him a bit of your time, you tilted your head slightly, your yellow eyes meeting his half-closed gaze. "I'll say," you replied, your voice laced with a playful challenge. Turning your full attention towards him, you gestured towards the fleeing pinkette. "Am I that hideous that I make people run away screaming?"
The boy regarded you for a moment, a low hum escaping his lips. He seemed to ponder your question for a beat before offering a nonchalant, "Maybe, let me see." With that, he took a casual step forward, invading your personal space to get a better look at you.
You were decked out in your Aldera Junior High uniform: a classic black blazer with white and red trim hugged your frame, paired with a crisp white collared shirt and a vibrant red tie. A pleated skirt stopped just above your knees, showcasing your toned legs clad in white socks that disappeared into practical black loafers.
Your stance radiated a cool confidence, a blend of defiance and preparedness that spoke volumes about your personality.
As the sunlight fell upon you, you seemed to take on an almost ethereal glow. Your fluffy, red hair, styled in loose twists, framed your face like a halo. But it was your eyes that truly captivated the blond boy. The bright yellow irises held him in a gaze that was both intense and strangely alluring.
His reaction mirrored that of the pink girl—a blush bloomed across his cheeks, spreading like wildfire across his pale skin. He seemed momentarily speechless, his usual smirk replaced by a look of stunned admiration.
Finding his reaction humorous, a genuine smile played on your lips. You broke the silence with a playful tilt of your head, stepping closer until you were mere inches from him.
This close, he could see the faint dusting of freckles sprinkled across your nose, a charming imperfection you'd inherited from your mother.
"Well, am I ugly?" you purred, raising an eyebrow in a challenge.
The boy stammered, struggling to form a coherent sentence. "Y-you..." he sputtered, completely flustered by your sudden proximity and the unexpected beauty he found himself face-to-face with. This wasn't how he'd expected his day to begin.
A slow smile spread across your face, the amusement clear in your yellow eyes. This unexpected encounter had been... enlightening.
With a playful wink and a final, teasing smile, you turned away, leaving the lovestruck blond speechless in your wake.
No need to linger any longer; the real game was elsewhere.
Fishing your phone from your pocket, you scanned Bakugo's latest message, a crudely drawn map leading to some secluded corner of the school. A satisfied hum escaped your lips. Perfect.
Just then, a gruff voice boomed from a few feet away, shattering the bubble of amusement you'd created. "Don't stand in front of me. I'll kill you."
You recognized the voice instantly. Turning your head slightly, you witnessed the explosive arrival of Katsuki Bakugo. He stormed past a familiar green-haired boy, leaving a trail of nervous mumbles in his wake.
"Erk... M-Morning! L-Let's both do our best!" Midoriya stammered, scrambling out of Bakugo's way. His voice, filled with a mix of fear and nervous determination, rang out clearly.
Several students murmured amongst themselves, their voices filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. "Hey, isn't that Bakugo? The one with the Sludge Villain?" one whispered. "Oh, he's the real thing!" another chimed in, his voice tinged with excitement.
You watched the scene unfold with a detached amusement. Seeing Bakugo effortlessly command attention, even amidst the chaos of the entrance exam, reminded you of the volatile energy he brought to everything he did.
A small smile played on your lips. Perhaps blending into the background wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.
There was no need for additional attention on your first day at U.A.
Letting Bakugo be the center of the storm might be the most strategic move. You slipped away, disappearing into the crowd behind like a phantom.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket—a text from Bakugo undoubtedly. You ignored it, already finding a secluded corner that offered a clear view of the remaining students trickling in.
One face in particular caught your eye. Sitting a few rows ahead was Yumi, her presence was unmistakable. Her long, flowing hair, a vibrant shade of soft lime green—a clear inheritance from her father, Hiro, cascading down her back.
Complementing her striking hair, her soft lavender eyes, a gift from her mother, Shihsuki, mirrored the enchanting hues of twilight. They held a practiced charm, a reflection of her mother's Quirk.
You knew her Quirk, 'Absolute,' allowed her to get whatever she wanted—a power fueled by pure confidence. It was a fascinating Quirk, a twisted version of her mother's ability to draw people in and her father's knack for creation, all rolled into one.
However, the Quirk had a drawback. Yumi ran on confidence, and any situation that threatened her self-assuredness could backfire spectacularly, amplifying negativity around her. You mentally filed that information away—an interesting detail to keep in mind.
Yumi, oblivious to your scrutiny, was busy chatting with a group of girls. Her beauty mark, a tiny dot below her left eye, seemed to glitter as she laughed, her Quirk weaving its subtle magic.
You watched with a detached curiosity, wondering if her act would hold up under pressure. The entrance exam was notorious for weeding out the weak-willed, and Yumi's confidence, however potent, could crumble under the right circumstances.
You'd never had any personal issues with her, but a nagging suspicion gnawed at you that she was the one that despised your presence.
Ever since Yumi discovered the connection between you and Bakugo, a strange coldness seemed to settle in her demeanor whenever you were around.
A flashback flickered through your mind, transporting you back to a free period weeks ago.
🇫‌🇱‌🇦‌🇸‌🇭‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌:
You were nestled comfortably in your usual seat by the window, engrossed in a book about the controversial theories and experiments of Doctor Pavolos.
A shadow fell over your page, momentarily blocking the light. Looking up, you came face-to-face with Yumi, her brow furrowed in a deep frown. Her arms were crossed defensively, and two of her friends flanked her on either side, their faces mirroring Yumi's disapproval.
"What brings you, Yumi?" you inquired, raising an eyebrow in question. Your parents had remained close friends with Hiro and Shisuki despite the unfortunate event that took palce a couple of years ago, and it had been assumed you and Yumi would naturally become best friends.
However, that bond never truly formed, leaving a gap that Yumi's current frosty demeanor only served to highlight.
Yumi rolled her eyes, her disdain thinly veiled. "My mom," she drawled, her voice dripping with forced sweetness, "thought maybe you could, like, tutor me or something." A snicker escaped her lips, quickly echoed by her giggling minions. They leaned in conspiratorially, their hushed whispers aimed at you. You could practically hear the words "ugly" and "stupid" laced with malice.
Before Yumi's charade could escalate further, a familiar voice cut through the air. Ignoring you completely, Bakugo stomped over to your desk. With a characteristic grunt, he tossed a bag of your favorite potato chips and a carton of strawberry milk tea onto your desk. "You need to stop leaving home without lunch, dumbass," he barked, his voice gruff but not unkind.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and retreated back to his seat across the room, his group of followers trailing after him like a pack of wolves. Yumi, momentarily frozen, finally found her voice. "You... you know Bakugo-kun?" she stammered, her voice laced with disbelief and a hint of something... bitter?
You shrugged, nonplussed by her reaction. "Know of him," you replied simply, your gaze returning to your book.
The encounter ended there, but it marked a shift in Yumi's behavior towards you. Her once indifferent attitude morphed into something akin to hostility. Her quips and taunts became more frequent, especially when Bakugo wasn't around.
It was clear she harbored a not-so-secret crush on the explosive blond, and seeing him acknowledge you, even in his own gruff way, had ignited a spark of envy within her.
The memory faded, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Yumi's behavior was childish, but it served as a reminder of how inferior human emotions were, especially when jealousy reared its ugly head.
Of course, you could have easily neutralized Yumi's hostility with your powers, but causing a scene wouldn't exactly help you blend in. In fact, it would achieve the opposite.
You thrived in the shadows, manipulating situations from a distance. There was the unfortunate incident with the new literature teacher, who lasted a mere week after harshly critiquing your well-written paper. (In reality, the man's envy over your intelligence and his subsequent humiliation after you corrected him in class fueled a strange "accident" that led to his swift departure.)
A mischievous glint sparked in your yellow eyes. Using your control ability, you latched onto the hearing of a small rat scurrying near a hulking student in the back of the room. The boy's head resembled a rough-hewn rock, and various critters nestled comfortably on his broad shoulders. The rat, drawn by the scent of crumbs, scampered towards Yumi's group, providing you with the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop.
Yumi's voice, laced with a sickening amount of sweetness, filled your borrowed ears. "Finally, Bakugo will be mine," she gushes, unaware of the listening ears. "No one, especially not her," she sneers, referring to you, "can stand in my way."
Her minions echo her sentiments, their voices a chorus of agreement and disdain. "Yeah, she's got no chance," one chimes in, emboldened by Yumi's confidence. 
Yumi, however, snapped at her, her voice laced with a sharp edge. "He was never interested in her! They were just childhood friends or something, nothing more!" she hissed, her carefully constructed facade momentarily crumbling.
The implication that your bond with Bakugo was insignificant, a mere childhood connection easily forgotten, sent a spark of fury coursing through you.
How dare she speak of your Bakugo... your pet, as if he were some prize to be claimed?
A predatory smirk filled your face. The entrance exam was about to begin, but it seemed you'd have a little pre-game entertainment first. Dealing with Yumi's inflated sense of self-importance was a task you could relish in.
Just as Present Mic boomed, "For all you examinee listeners tuning in, welcome to my show today! Everybody say "hey"!" you focused your control on the rat near Yumi. With a silent command, you sent it scurrying up her leg.
Surprised by the sudden movement, Yumi yelped and instinctively looked in your direction. Seizing the opportunity, you reached out with your Quirk, subtly manipulating her nervous energy.
The effect was instantaneous. Yumi's eyes widened as she launched into a booming reply to Present Mic's welcome, her voice echoing through the previously silent auditorium. "Heeeyyyy!"
Everyone's attention snapped towards the lime-haired girl, their gazes filled with a mixture of shock and amusement.
Present Mic, oblivious to your manipulation, pumped his fist in the air, mistaking Yumi's outburst for enthusiasm. "That's what I'm talking about, listeners; bring the spirit!" he cheered, further escalating the bizarre situation.
From your vantage point, you watched with detached satisfaction as Yumi's Quirk instantly backfired. Her usually vibrant green hair dimmed, mirroring her plummeting confidence. Her minions, once fueled by her Quirk to hype and covet, turned on her, their whispers laced with snide remarks.
Yumi stammered, desperately trying to regain control, but her voice came out in weak, pathetic snaps. "I—I just got a little carried away, that's all!" But her retorts fell flat, drowned out by her own nervousness and the crowd's growing murmurs.
Present Mic, ever the showman, continued his presentation. "Then I'll quickly present to you the rundown on the practical exam! Are you ready?! Yeah!" Once again, you exerted your influence, amplifying Yumi's anxieties. This time, she couldn't hold back.
With a startled yelp, Yumi jumped to her feet, her voice cracking as she echoed Present Mic's question at an ear-splitting volume. "Oh, I'm ready!" Her shout echoed, far too loud and far too earnest, drawing stares and snickers.
Bakugo, who had been observing the scene with a bored expression, let out a disgusted scoff. "Jeez, what a clowny extra," loud enough for those nearby to hear. His words, laden with contempt, seemed to echo in the suddenly quiet room, sealing Yumi's fate as the object of ridicule.
The final blow.
Tears welled up in Yumi's eyes as the auditorium erupted in stifled laughter. Shame burned on her cheeks, turning her face a vibrant shade of crimson. Without a backward glance, she bolted from the hall, tears streaming down her face.
You let out a satisfied hum, your prank complete.
Turning your attention back to Present Mic, you settled in to listen to the rest of the exam instructions, a sly smile playing on your lips.
Who knew presentations could be so entertaining?
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***guess who the two unamed people were, 👀. and if you're wondering are they in the upcoming growing harem??? yeath....anywho, i have about 8 more prewriteen chapters so after ch.17, updates won't be as quick and sparodic as this, but no worries! Summer break begins May 4 for me 🥳🥳 until next updates, lovelies~
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winxanity-ii · 24 days
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⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 08 Chapter 08 | conditioning the flame⌟
╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝
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❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘
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The pre-dawn sky bled a pale orange over the ragged silhouettes of trees in the abandoned park. A cool mist clung to the ground, swirling around your feet as you finished a series of stretches.
Opposite you stood Bakugo, his explosive blonde hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His ragged breaths echoed in the stillness, punctuated by the rhythmic pounding of his heart.
The previous hour had been relentless. You'd pushed him through a gauntlet of sprints through the woods, dodging fallen logs and leaping over rocky outcrops.
Now, you were sparring, your movements a blur as you danced around his explosive attacks.
A well-placed side-step brought you behind him, and you delivered a sharp kick to his back, sending him staggering forward. He stumbled, catching himself on a groan-worthy grunt. You stood tall, arms crossed, a critical look on your face.
"Faster than last week," you conceded, your voice devoid of praise. "But it's not enough." You crouched low, reaching up to brush a few damp strands of hair from his forehead.
Bakugo, leaned into your touch reflexively, exhaustion momentarily eclipsing his usual defiance. He grunted in response, a single, guttural sound that spoke volumes of his determination.
The start of a long summer of grueling training had begun—another step on the path you'd meticulously crafted for him. He was your pawn, yes, but a powerful one nonetheless.
You smirked, the feeling hidden beneath your neutral expression. This relentless drive, this insatiable hunger for power—you had nurtured it, fueled it. He may have thought he was training to become a hero, but you were shaping him into something far more... valuable.
And when the game truly began, you'd be the one pulling the strings.
You rose, pulling back your hand. "Push harder," you murmured, your voice soft but laced with an underlying challenge. "The entrance exam won't wait for you to catch your breath."
A spark ignited in Bakugo's red eyes, mirroring the glint of ambition in your own. He straightened, his stance unwavering despite his fatigue. "I don't need your pity," he snarled, his voice hoarse but firm.
You chuckled, a low, chilling sound. "Pity? This," you gestured around at the desolate landscape bathed in the faint light of dawn, "is opportunity. Seize it. Show them all what you're truly capable of."
The fiery spirit you'd helped cultivate flickered back to life in his eyes. Though his body screamed for rest, his pride wouldn't allow him to yield. "I said. I don't need your pity," he snarled, his voice hoarse but firm. A vein pulsed in his temple, a testament to his simmering frustration and unwavering resolve.
You weren't surprised by his defiance. In fact, it fueled your hidden agenda. A sly smile played on your lips, hidden beneath your neutral expression. "Suit yourself," you said, your voice flat. "But remember, U.A. won't accept weakness."
With that, you allowed him a few precious seconds of reprieve, letting him savor the fleeting comfort of lying sprawled on the cool grass. Just as he started to sink into a semblance of rest, you clapped your hands once, the sharp sound echoing through the silent woods. "Alright, that's enough rest," you declared, your voice leaving no room for argument.
Before he could protest, you sprang forward with surprising agility and landed crouched on his back. The sudden weight jolted him, and a surprised grunt escaped his lips. He twisted his head to glare at you, but you simply grinned, your eyes gleaming with an almost predatory glint.
"Time for push-ups," you announced, your voice laced with a playful challenge. "Fifty, and make them count."
Bakugo's jaw clenched, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. He hated the way you manipulated him, the way you pushed him to his limits under the guise of friendly competition. But deep down, a twisted sense of gratitude simmered.
You were the only one who truly understood his relentless drive, the only one who pushed him to become stronger.
With a frustrated groan, he began the push-ups. His muscles screamed in protest, his arms shaking with fatigue. But he wouldn't give in, not in front of you.
One by one, he knocked out the push-ups, his teeth gritted tight in determination.
You counted silently, your gaze fixed on the rippling muscles beneath you. Each push-up was a testament to his strength, his potential. And you, the puppeteer in the shadows, would ensure he reached his full potential—on your terms.
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The relentless sun dipped towards the horizon, painting the desolate park in warm hues of orange and red. The air hung heavy with the sounds of exhaustion. Bakugo, sprawled on the grass, gulped down water from his bottle, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, the remnants of your grueling training session clinging to him like a second skin.
Across from him, you leaned casually against a gnarled tree trunk, a stark contrast to his state. A light sheen glistened on your brow, a testament to the exertion, but nowhere near the fatigue gripping Bakugo.
The skills you honed in your past life as Makima, slowly bleeding into this one, granted you an exceptional level of physical prowess. You were a master combatant, adept at hand-to-hand combat without relying on weapons or pawns.
Bakugo watched you from beneath hooded eyelids, his gaze lingering on your profile. An unfamiliar heat bloomed in his chest, a feeling he couldn't quite place.
Infatuation.
The word hung heavy in the unspoken space between you, a bizarre notion considering the constant verbal sparring and grueling training sessions you subjected him to. Yet, there you were, somehow occupying every corner of his mind. He frowned, a bewildered scowl twisting his features.
It was illogical, this strange pull towards you.
Unaware of the turmoil brewing within him, you were already strategizing for the upcoming week. Thoughts of new training regimens, targeted exercises, and grueling challenges danced in your mind.
You needed him to be honed to perfection, a weapon waiting to be unleashed on the world.
As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, plunging the park into twilight, you finally met his gaze. A cold glint flickered in your eyes, a stark contrast to the concern you so often feigned. "Ready for round two tomorrow?" you asked, your voice a low murmur that sent shivers down his spine.
He met your gaze with a defiant snarl, the remnants of his earlier admiration replaced by his usual fiery spirit. "Always," he growled, the words laced with a challenge that masked the strange flutter in his chest.
Standing up, you brushed imaginary dust off your clothes, ready to head home. "Alright then, be here at exactly 5:30 AM sharp," you declared, already turning to leave.
Just as you were about to take a step forward, a hesitant voice stopped you. "Hey," Bakugo mumbled, the word barely audible. He looked away, avoiding eye contact, a rare display of bashfulness from the usually explosive boy.
You paused, raising an eyebrow in question. "Yes?" you called out, turning your head to face him.
He remained stubbornly focused on the ground, kicking at a pebble with a scuffed shoe. Finally, he muttered out, "How come you aren't applying to U.A.? We both know you're more than strong enough to make it."
His words caught you off guard for a moment. A flicker of surprise crossed your features before you quickly schooled your expression. You took in his question, the concern laced beneath the bluster. Was he... worried about you?
A slow smirk played on your lips, a sly glint in your yellow eyes that seemed to catch the dying light of the sun. "Kacchan~" you purred, your voice dripping with a sweetness that sent a shiver down his spine. You sauntered back towards him, each step deliberate and calculated. "Are you asking me to accompany you to the prestigious, U.A. high?"
He flinched slightly at the nickname, his face burning a fiery red that rivaled the fading sunset. "Whatever," he scoffed, turning his head away in a vain attempt to hide his blush. "Do what you want, it was just a suggestion."
You stopped right in front of him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his flushed skin. You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes at him in a way that would seem innocent to anyone else. But for Bakugo, who knew the depths of your power, it was a blatant display of manipulation.
"Well, truthfully, I wasn't planning on attending UA. Too much work, you know," you drawled, your voice a husky whisper. You trailed a hand up his chest, your touch sending a jolt through him. Reaching his chin, you gently tilted his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze. "But since you're such a good puppy," you continued, your voice smooth as silk, "I guess I can come."
The implication hung heavy in the air. You weren't just considering U.A.—you were doing it for him.
A strange mix of emotions flickered across Bakugo's face: surprise, a hint of something akin to gratitude, and a flicker of... possessiveness? He opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out.
The silence stretched for a beat. Bakugo seemed frozen, caught between the flustered blush creeping up his neck and the urge to lash out with a defiant snarl. His mind, usually a whirlwind of explosive pronouncements, seemed to have malfunctioned under your touch and the unexpected turn of events.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a scowl etched its way back onto his face. It was a weak attempt at regaining control, a facade that crumbled under scrutiny. He weakly moved his face away from your hold, the blush reaching the tips of his fiery red ears. "'M not a puppy," he mumbled, the defiance in his voice barely a whisper.
But even through the scowl and the mumbled denial, you could see a flicker of relief dancing in his crimson eyes. The confirmation that you'd attend U.A. with him, a decision you'd framed as a favor to him, seemed to ease a tension you hadn't even realized existed.
A soft chuckle escaped your lips, the sound laced with amusement. You knew exactly how to manipulate him, how to exploit his volatile emotions to get what you wanted. But for now, you were content to let him bask in the illusion of control.
"Alright, alright, Katsuki," you said, your voice playful. You reached out and ruffled his hair with a gentle touch, a gesture that would have sent shivers down anyone else's spine. For Bakugo, though, it was a confusing mix of irritation and a strange sense of... comfort?
"We'll head to U.A. together then," you continued, your voice a smooth purr. "Just you, me, and the rest of those wannabe heroes."
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The rhythmic scrape of cutlery against ceramic plates filled the air, the only sound breaking the tense silence that had settled over the dinner table. It was a rare night that your father managed to escape the clutches of work and share a meal with the family. Your mother had gone all out, preparing his favorite meatloaf.
Despite her best efforts to spark conversation, the dinner table remained an island of awkwardness. Wino devoured his food in silence, his usual gruff demeanor amplified by fatigue. You picked at your own plate, lost in your thoughts.
The grueling morning workout with Bakugo still left a pleasant ache in your muscles, a stark contrast to the dull ache of boredom gnawing at your soul.
Deciding to take pity on your mother, you cleared your throat. "Hey," you announced, "I decided to I'm going to U.A."
A wave of relief washed over Mei's face, her eyes widening with delight. A bright smile bloomed on her lips, instantly chasing away the gloom that had settled earlier. "Oh, sweetie! That's wonderful news!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached across the table to squeeze your hand. "I'm so proud of you!"
Turning to your father, she beamed expectantly. "Wino! Aren't you going to congratulate your daughter?"
Wino, however, remained unmoved. He paused in mid-chew, raising his head from his plate to meet your gaze. For a tense few seconds, your eyes, a startling yellow, locked with his bright green ones. A storm of unspoken emotions crackled in the air.
Finally, Wino spoke, his voice devoid of warmth. "How could I?" he said, his tone flat. "The kid's never shown any interest in being a hero before. What changed now?"
Your mother gasped, a look of hurt flickering across her face. "Wino!" she scolded, launching into a familiar tirade about the importance of encouragement and how negativity could shatter confidence.
You tuned out her rant, already anticipating your father's response. He wasn't lying. You had never harbored any real desire to be a hero.
The hero business, with its constant scrutiny and fickle public opinion, held no appeal. The childhood days of dressing up as heroes were long gone, replaced by the harsh realities of your true nature.
But then you remembered the glint in Bakugo's eyes when you'd mentioned attending U.A. A warmth spread through your chest, a subtle change brought on by your peculiar connection to the explosive boy.
You weren't averse to indulging your "puppy's" wishes from time to time.
Besides, you mused, spearing a piece of meatloaf, who knew? Maybe U.A. would be a welcome distraction, a chance to shake off the boredom that had become a constant companion.
A slow smirk played on your lips. This unexpected turn of events might just prove to be entertaining.
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***WHO READY TO GET TO THE MAIN STORYLINE AND COLLECT A HAREM OF SIMPS!?!
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