Chapter Text
Bakugo Katsuki was used to standing at the top.
From the moment he stepped into university, his presence was impossible to ignore. Top-tier grades, a star player on the sports team, a high-ranking student council officer—he had his hands in everything. Professors held him in high regard, students either admired him or feared him, and his name carried weight in every circle.
If there was a competition, he was in it. If there was a challenge, he took it head-on. Bakugo didn’t just aim for the top; he stayed there.
Yet, despite being constantly surrounded by people, he was always alone in his own way.
It wasn’t like he lacked friends—his teammates respected him, his peers wanted to impress him, and the council relied on him. But no one really saw past the reputation. No one questioned if he ever got tired of it, if he ever wanted something different. If he ever just wanted to exist, without expectation weighing him down.
Then came Midoriya Izuku.
The first time Bakugo saw him, it wasn’t anything dramatic. There was no slow-motion moment, no earth-shattering realization. Just a quiet presence in a room full of noise.
It was during a university-wide event, one of those mandatory gatherings where all courses participated. As usual, Bakugo had been put in charge—coordinating schedules, handling logistics, making sure things didn’t turn into a complete disaster.
He had been reviewing the attendance list when his eyes casually swept over the room. That’s when he spotted him.
Midoriya Izuku was… different.
Not in the obvious sense—he wasn’t particularly flashy, nor did he demand attention like others did. If anything, he seemed determined to blend in, sitting at the back with his notebook in hand, green eyes scanning the event like he was an observer rather than a participant. His classmates sat in clusters, chatting amongst themselves, but Midoriya? He was an outsider among them, separate even while surrounded by people.
Something about that caught Bakugo’s attention.
Maybe it was the way he held himself—reserved, calculating, yet strangely content in his solitude. Maybe it was how his eyes flickered with thought, constantly analyzing everything around him. Or maybe it was just that Bakugo was so used to people trying to impress him, that seeing someone who wasn’t even trying intrigued him.
For a moment, Bakugo forgot about the chaos of the event.
Who the hell is that?
It was a fleeting thought, one that should have disappeared as quickly as it came. But for some reason, it didn’t.
And for the first time in a long while, Bakugo found himself paying attention to someone who wasn’t already part of his world.
---
Meanwhile, on the Other Side of the Room…
Midoriya Izuku didn’t mind being overlooked.
In fact, he preferred it that way.
He had spent most of his academic life as the quiet one, the one who sat at the back of the classroom, the one who always had his nose in a book rather than engaging in small talk. His classmates weren’t cruel, but they never really included him either. He was just… there.
And he was okay with that.
Unlike others, he hadn’t come to university for the social experience. His world revolved around academics, research, and getting through each semester without unnecessary distractions.
That’s why this event was the last place he wanted to be.
It wasn’t that he hated social gatherings—it was just exhausting to exist in a space where he didn’t quite belong. The forced conversations, the expectation to network, the overwhelming energy of it all—it was easier to just sit back and observe.
So, that’s what he did.
He watched as students grouped up, as the student council coordinated everything, as the university’s golden boy—Bakugo Katsuki—handled things with an effortless confidence that Izuku couldn’t relate to.
Bakugo was the kind of person who thrived in the spotlight. Someone who commanded attention just by existing. Someone who had everything figured out.
Izuku? He was just trying to survive the semester.
They lived in completely different worlds.
And yet—for some reason, Bakugo kept looking in his direction.
At first, Izuku thought he was imagining it. But every time he glanced up, there was this brief, unreadable look in Bakugo’s sharp crimson eyes.
It made Izuku uneasy. Why was someone like Bakugo noticing someone like him?
He shook off the thought. It wasn’t like it mattered. Once this event was over, they’d go back to their separate lives, just as it had always been.
Right?
---
Unknowingly, the First Thread Had Been Pulled.
One brief moment. One glance across the room.
Neither of them knew it yet, but this was the start of something neither of them had expected.
Because against the odds, their worlds were about to collide.
And neither of them would walk away the same.