Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She didn’t know how it happened. One second, she was lying in bed, warm, cozy in her onesie, sleeping. The next? She was lying on the floor, her back aching from being in an uncomfortable position for too long, and a cool breeze was hitting her face—wait, no, her whole body.

She opened her eyes slowly after realizing these… odd sensations that you are NOT supposed to feel when you are in a cozy, warm, soft bed.

Upon seeing a blurry image and realizing it was a dark alley, she rubbed her eyes slowly, trying to wake up. And oh NO. She was soooo not prepared for this.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!” Ayumi screamed to absolutely nobody.

Because WHAT THE HECK, WHY WAS SHE NAKED?!?!

She glanced around and found a piece of cardboard lying beside her, and she thanked the gods.

Ayumi Bakugou Midoriya is an 11-year-old girl who is fucking scared and wants clothes now.

And thank you, gods, we all say in unison.

Because three men came into the light, coming out of that scary, black alley that led to who knows where. They were wearing big, baggy clothes, but something that she could cover herself with, right?

Well, they seemed to catch her eye right away.

“Wait, is that—a child?” one of them said with a smug face.

“Yeah—and she's naked!!” the other one said excitedly as if this situation was funny to them.

“Hey, kid,” the one in the middle, who hadn't said anything until now, probably the leader since he was walking in front of them and was the scariest of all of them, said. He was full of tattoos on his face and piercings, with dark velvet hair and starving eyes. “You got lost? We will help you find your mommy. But first, we need to take you somewhere so we can have a… chat.”

“Do you think I'm fucking stupid?” Papa would’ve scolded her for her language and probably sent her to the “reflection cussing corner” with Dad, but sorry, not sorry, if she needed to threaten these assholes, it was by use of language.

“How old are ya?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Show us what's underneath the cardboard and I will decide, pretty princess.”

“Don't come near me.” She glared at them, gripping the cardboard.

“But I'm so hard already—”

“EWWWWWW!!! STOP ITTTT!” she said as she covered her ears with both hands, cardboard still in place.

The ugly ass pervert took that as a chance to grab the cardboard and take a little peek.

Wrong move.

Ayumi sent a shockwave to their faces, and they fell to the ground. K.O.'d.

She warned them.

She stood up and walked around the collapsed bodies. This was utterly disgusting, but she preferred going home with something rather than completely naked with a cardboard sheet showing her butt mid-air.

Turning all the bodies to face the ground, just in case they woke up and saw her naked, she took one of the leader’s companions’ undershirts since he was the smallest among the three. It was a nice beige shirt, though it smelled like pure crap. She put it on, and, since she was a shorty, the shirt went down to her ankles, covering her knees.

Since it was chilly, she grabbed the leader's leather jacket since it was the shortest among the three, and he had bad taste in fashion, to be completely honest. And slipped it on. It covered her until her waist, a bit lower. And it was a blackish, so ugly jacket. Probably never washed. It was also relatively heavier than a normal jacket, even though she didn't notice until she compared it with the other jacket she tried on, the one that covered her fully, and she couldn’t walk in it, belonging to the other companion of the guy.

She walked towards the golden light that the end of the alley was emitting.

Probably the sunrise.

Famous last words.

She took a look around the street in front of her.

It was Mustafu. Right.

Then why was everything… so different? The stores were all changed up, there were trash bins moved, and there were odd buildings she hadn't ever seen before.

What?

She started to run towards her house. "Yeah, this is a dream."

Famous last words plus 1.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” A voice cut through the train of thought.

Ayumi turned around, already recognizing that voice. He could help me.

“Present Mic!” she said as she waved to him up on the building he was at. He threw himself down to her.

And to her surprise, he was holding handcuffs?

He landed in front of her and grabbed hold of her wrist. He put them on.

“Eh..?” She said, looking up at him and glancing again at the handcuffs.

“You're coming with me.” He said as he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her to keep walking.

“What's going on?” She asked, turning to look at him. Now that she noticed, he looked younger, wearing a few adjustments on his hero suit that were part of his old costume. 

Wait—was she in the past?

“You'll see in the interrogation room.” He said, looking up ahead.

She was going to be stubborn about it, but this was a good chance to verify if she was indeed in the past or if he was just going to interrogate her about why she woke up in an alleyway, and see her parents there in the waiting room, waiting for her.

Famous last words minus 2.

When she arrived at UA, Hizashi released her cuffs.

“You're not going to be able to escape, so don't bother.”

Why was he being so bold?

Ayumi walked behind him, entering the building, the school her father worked in.

And yeah, her suspicions were indeed correct. UA was… old. Some of the couches were different, and the lighting as well. It also smelled… different? That was either because it did smell different, or it was her clothing.

Who knows.

She knew all of this since Papa sometimes brought her to UA after picking her up from school to take care of her. She would often draw in the teachers’ lounge or train/play with a retired All Might.

They walked up to the level where the teachers’ lounge was theoretically located.

Mic opened the door. Aizawa was sitting on a couch, mug in place, waiting for them. He held the door for her and closed it. She sat in front of him, Mic standing behind him.

“So, robber much?”

WHAT?

“I don’t know what you're talking about, Sen—eh, Hero..?” Whoops, nickname slipped.

“Only my students can call me that. Not children pretending to be criminals, for your information, breaking the law.”

“But I didn't break the law!”

“Your pockets.”

She slid her hands into her pockets and took out loads of money.

SHOOT! SO THAT'S WHY THE JACKET WEIGHED SO MUCH!!

“And, on top of that, you knocked out three men. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I have my reason!”

“We're going to need your parents’ names, kid. They will be charged for this.”

“No! They wanted to assault me!” This caught Aizawa's attention, and he nodded to let her continue the claim. “I was on the floor in the alley—”

“Why were you there?” Aizawa asked.

“I dunno, woke up like that. Anyways, I looked to my right and those creeps were there! They told me that they wanted to take my clothes off. So I knocked them out!”

“Okay, and how do you explain the money?”

“I was cold!”

Mic was kind of doubting, even though it was the truth. Aizawa held a thinking face for about 15 seconds after finally making up his mind.

“Okay, I believe you; however, there's still something missing, and I will find out.” He said as he gave her a look.

“Sure, whatever you wish.” She said, sending him the same look.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nope! My back aches a bit from my sleep, but that's okay!”

“The school will take responsibility; however, your parents need a say in this.”

The ONE topic she was avoiding, and they brought it up.

Great.

Time to execute plan created in 000.01 milliseconds. PLAN: Play dumb.

Start?

Go!

“I dunno where my parents are.”

“Names?”

“Dunno, forgot, sorry. Must’ve been the sleep. I must’ve hit my head.”

AHA. THEY WERE SO NOT BUYING THIS BULLSHIT-

“If that's the case, we will take you to Recovery Girl to see if she can get you checked out, nd you can at least remember their telephone number. It's going to get dark soon, so they are going to get worried.”

Dark? Wasn't it sunrise?

She looked to her side and 

BOOMSHAKALAKA.

Nope, it was getting dark.

They accompanied her to the medical room, where she was greeted by Recovery Girl, a legend in this era and at this school. Ayumi had always wanted to meet her.

“Hi, dear, what’s the problem?”

“Uhm, the hero said I had to check my memory? I hit my head a bit, I think.”

“Sure, honey, sit here,” she said, pulling a small stool over so Ayumi could sit on the bed more easily.

“What’s your name, Sunny?” She walked to her desk, closed a tab on the computer, and headed back to Ayumi.

“M-my name is Ayumi,” she said. It wouldn’t change anything, right? The fact that she told her name. She didn’t even exist!

“Ayumi, mind if I call you Mimi, dear?”

“Nope, my friends sometimes call me that.” She swung her legs back and forth irregularly.

“Mimi, what’s your surname?”

Bakugou .

“Uuuhhhhh, I don’t remember. Sorry.”

“Must’ve been a pretty bad hit, I fear,” Recovery Girl said.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I guess I'll need a sample of your blood to help with the location of your parents.”

“M-my blood?”

"Don’t worry, this won't take long. You can have a candy afterward, okay?”

Ayumi didn’t respond.

Recovery Girl searched for her utensils.

Aizawa and Mic were looking at her. The walls were starting to shrink. Her heart was pounding.

Her biggest fear appeared in front of her.

Guess the gods didn’t bless her after all.

A needle was in Recovery Girl’s hand.

“GET TH—THAT THING AWAY FROM ME N-NOW!!!” she said, jumping off the bed to the wall, steadying her grip on the metal tray. Things fell down and clacked on the floor.

“Mimi, relax, you'll be okay. We’re good people.”

“NO! I'M DONE WITH NEEDLES! PAPA SWORE NO MORE!! NO!!!!!” she screamed, a clear treble in her tone.

Aizawa activated his quirk just in case, erasing her quirk, even though they didn’t know how it worked.

She propelled herself from the wall and ran to the door, which was ajar. Aizawa ran after her, his quirk still in motion.

“Stop this child! The needles aren't going to kill you! It's just a blood sample.”

“YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!” She said as she ran down the empty hallway.

She turned the corner. Aizawa was done with this, so he was just going to shoot his capture weapon at her, wrap her in it, and get her back to the room to get her blood sample so she could go home to her parents.

He shot it at light speed.

However.

She ducked low, sliding on her knees just as the cloth whisked over her head, then sprang back up and continued running.

He went for the leg, but she jumped upwards, doing a little diagonal spin, and continued.

Without even looking.

Who even was this kid?

—

It had been a long-ass day.

Not because of some villain attack or a boring patrol where the only thing to do was help a lady struggling to get her kitty down from a tree.
(Well—yeah, a bit because of that.)

But no.

It was because he’d had nothing to focus on all day, and his mind wandered to places he did not want to go.

Izuku.

They were in their third year now, and after everything that had happened during the war, it was clear as day that—

he,

worried about Izuku. Like, a lot .

LOT LOT LOT.

His mind kept going back to thoughts of Izuku getting injured. What if he feels hurt and is not able to vent it to anyone? Of all the bullying Katsuki had put him through. Of what if— What if something fucking horrible happened to him, and Katsuki couldn’t do anything?

It just made the whole day hell.

Every day since the war, it’s always, always been Izuku.

And he hated how often he popped into his head, always tied to worst-case-scenario bullshit. Never anything good.

To let off some steam, he went to the training grounds with Kirishima, hitting the man like he was his punching bag.

You thought they were over that?
Ha. No.

“C’mon, man! We talked about this! If you wanna blow off steam, don’t drag me into it!” Kirishima shouted as he took a hit from the blond.

“That’s what you get for being my best friend, dumbass. You signed up for this.”

“That’s not the problem here, man.” Kirishima dodged one of his attacks, swinging sideways. “You should speak your mind! Not torture me!!”

“Not fucking happening.”

They finished training and started packing up. The sun was setting.

“Hey, bro, I’m heading out. Wanna walk together and maybe tell me a little?”

“Nah. Gonna do a run around the grounds.”

“Sure, bro. Make sure to text me if you change your mind. I know things are hard. You’ll get past it,” Kirishima said, his face calm but concerned. “I won’t force you to talk, even though I do have a pretty clear idea who we’re talking about.” He winked, grinning like the smug bastard he was. “Goodnight, bro!”

“You—fucker!” Katsuki called after him, flipping him off as Kirishima walked away and stuck his tongue out over his shoulder.

After sitting on the floor for a minute, Katsuki stood up and stretched his legs, preparing for the run.

It was cold, unusually cold for early November. His feet hit the pavement rhythmically. The cool air brushed against his face.
The soft whoosh of the wind—then a strong one—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoo—

…The fuck ?
That wasn’t wind.

Katsuki snapped his eyes open and glanced around to see what the hell was making that familiar sound. He turned the corner and froze.

An angry Aizawa was throwing his scarf at a kid. A blonde-haired girl with green highlights at the tips of her short hair, which reached almost to her waist. She was short, probably around nine, and barefoot, wearing a very… specific outfit.

The shocker?

She was dodging all of them.

Katsuki crept closer, crouching beside a bush.

It looked like she was heading toward the exit. The girl glanced around, probably sensing his presence, and looked to the side.
She locked eyes with him.

Katsuki felt a pang in his chest.

Why did she look so… familiar ?

It only took one second of distraction.

Aizawa took the chance to grab her leg and wrap the scarf tightly around her, covering her mouth.

She instantly diverted all her focus back to her teacher.

“Now, you're getting your phlebotomy,” Aizawa growled, quirk still activated.

She glared back—and screamed.

Aizawa tugged at the scarf, trying to get her to walk.

She jumped high into the air.
And before anyone could react, a strong shockwave burst out from her, pushing the cloth just far enough from her body so she could grab the end .

The catch?

Aizawa’s quirk was still activated.

And.

He.

Didn’t.

Blink.

“THE FUCK?!!!” Katsuki screamed, sprinting toward them. Aizawa didn’t move. He was completely frozen in shock.

Her fingers sparked with turquoise light , and in one smooth, sharp motion, she wrapped the scarf around him instead.

One.

Two.

Three rotations.

She spun like a top. A blur of blonde hair and glowing turquoise.

CLACK.

Aizawa hit the ground with a grunt—bound in his scarf before he could react.

She landed a few meters away.

Not even out of breath.

“I’m sorry, Sensei, but I’m not getting a blood test. My Papa promised no more needles, and my Dad said—and I’m quoting, okay?—‘If you ever have to take a fucking blood extraction again, I’ll blast those motherfuckers straight to hell where they belong.’”

She mimicked a punch and smirked proudly.

Aizawa’s face said it all.

What kind of parent says that to their kid?

Katsuki?

He was frozen in place, still shocked by the fact that—HOLY FUCK—she used her quirk while Aizawa-sensei’s quirk was on.

“BAKUGO! STOP HER!” Aizawa-sensei ordered.

He snapped out of whatever daze he was in and blasted himself toward her.

“C’MERE, BRAT!”

She froze. She had a scared face? Or—wait—was it worried? He couldn’t tell.

It happened in a second. Tears started filling her eyes, and she tried to wipe them away. Instead of running to the exit, she ran toward him. She hugged his leg.

“I-I’m so scared! I can’t do this anymore!!”

“Do what? Run from Aizawa? HAH, well, brat, best choice you’ve made so far.”

Little did Katsuki know, Ayumi’s thoughts were going 1,000 miles per hour.

AUGHH DO I TELL THEM THAT I COME FROM THE FUTURE?! BUT WAIT, WON’T I TRIGGER SOMETHING AND CORRUPT IT? WHAT IF SOMETHING SLIPS MY MIND AND I TELL THEM SOMETHING THEY’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! AUFGHHGJH WAIT, BUT IF I’M IN THE PAST, THAT MEANS THAT IN MY FUTURE THIS ALREADY HAPPENED? AUGHHJGHG I DUNNOOOOO. IF SOMETHING HAPPENS, DAD AND PAPA CAN ALWAYS SAVE THE DAY, RIGHT?!?!? MAYBE—

“What can’t you do anymore, Ayumi?” Aizawa said slowly, unwrapping himself now that he wasn’t tied up.

“I NEED TO GO TO THE RESTROOM!” she shouted, and ran to the front door—faster this time. In five seconds, she was gone.

“Something’s fishy, and you know what it is, right?” Katsuki said to Aizawa.

Finally unwrapped, Aizawa looked up at him and shrugged. “I do know something’s up. However, I think she can’t tell us.”

“Sure. And how do you explain the quirk thing?”

“I’ll talk with the teachers tomorrow and see what we do with the girl. But with no parents in sight searching for her, I’ll take responsibility for a bit.”

“Fine.”

They went to the restrooms and waited outside for like 15 minutes, but no one came out.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous!” Katsuki complained to his teacher, who gave him a look.

“I told you that you can leave. The teachers have this covered.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

They waited another 15 minutes until their patience ran out.

“I’m going in,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Bakugou, that’s the ladies’ restroom,” Aizawa said to him as if he were dumb.

“I know. But it’s freaking 9 PM. I don’t think any stupid idiot would be in the restroom at this hour,” he said as he opened the door—and a scream followed.

“AHHHHHHH!! GET OUT, PERVERTS!!!” the student yelled, throwing her shoe at Aizawa—even though he wasn’t the one who peeked. Katsuki couldn’t help but laugh.

The girl took a second to realize and then bowed to apologize, retrieving her shoe.

“Don’t worry, it’s our fault for peeking,” Aizawa said, shooting a death glare at Katsuki—who felt his skin shiver.

“Anyways, have you seen a young girl? Around 11, short, with blond hair and green on a big part of her tips—almost halfway through. And big expressive red eyes?”

“Nope, sorry, Sensei. I haven’t seen anyone. I’ve been here for the past half hour.”

Katsuki would rather not think about why she was there for half an hour, but she quickly caught on to their raised eyebrows.

“Oh! I’m sorry, that sounded weird. I got my clothes soaked with a drink, and that’s why I’ve been here trying to wash them. I overreacted because I was just about to wash my skirt first, and I thought you were my classmates from class 2-B,” she said with a sorry-looking face.

“Thanks. We will take our leave,” said Aizawa as he bowed and walked away, the girl still inspecting Bakugou’s back as he left—without acknowledging her.

“Under control, huh?” Katsuki smirked at the teacher, taking the win.

Katsuki: 1. Aizawa: 0.

His elder sighed beside him, clearly irritated by the fact that he was right about this.
“I’m afraid that we’ll need to execute the blood test while she sleeps tonight. And I’ll inform the other teachers later. This is too important to keep from them any longer. Don’t tell your classmates—this is a private case for now.”

“Sure.”

They went back to the medical room in hopes of finding her there, but no. Maybe she had just run off.

“Did you find her?” Hizashi asked, ignoring the fact that a student was right there—

“No. It’s most likely that she ran off,” Aizawa said.

“What are we going to do?” Recovery Girl asked, worry written all over her face.

“I’ll talk to the principal first thing in the morning,” Aizawa said, probably guessing that Nezu was asleep and not wanting to disturb him with a missing child scenario.

A knock on the door was heard, and Katsuki—since he was the closest—opened it.

There stood a sleepy Ayumi, looking up and yawning.

“Can I sleep at UA for the night, please? I don’t think my papas are coming to get me.”

“Yes, of course,” Aizawa said, trying to ignore the shock of seeing her so casually after they had gone full worried-mode just 20 seconds ago.
“Here, sleep on this couch right here,” he said, signaling to the couch inside the room.

She walked over, dragging her feet. She lay down and fell asleep in 20 seconds.

She started mumbling something about how she was going to tell them everything tomorrow, or something like that.

“So… should I take her sample?” Recovery Girl asked tentatively.

“Yes. Let’s first classify her blood with that of the students. Since she seemed very familiar with the halls of the school, maybe she’s related to someone. Start with the blonds with red eyes,” he said.

And after three seconds, he looked at Katsuki.

“…Wait. Now that I think about it, she looks a lot like Bakugou. Is she family? Do you recall any Ayumi?”

“No. I would know if there were some annoying little brats in my family,” he said, looking at the child.

“You’re right,” Hizashi told Aizawa as he looked at the two of them. “She holds characteristics of another being as well. Probably your aunt or something,” he added, glancing at Recovery Girl.
“Would it be possible to check if they’re family?”

“That would explain why she hugged his leg…”

“What?! It’s just a fricking waste of time. I’ve got homework I still need to finish, and I don’t want to waste my time on a stupid analysis that I know will come out false.”

…Little did Katsuki know,
He would eat those words with white cream and a cherry on top once he saw the results.

It turned out…
Katsuki was one of the parents.

HOW.

Chapter Text

Katsuki woke up with the chaotic events of yesterday still fresh in his mind. He shot out of bed, rushed to brush his teeth, and got changed in record time—he needed to talk to Aizawa-sensei. And the brat.

The brat, he wasn’t supposed to call a brat anymore.
Because, according to some very questionable blood test results, he was her father?

Yeah. No. Impossible.

After hours of arguing and insisting he hadn’t knocked anyone up at the age of six (seriously, what the hell?), he’d finally convinced his teachers. Not that they needed much convincing—everyone agreed this had to be some sort of quirk-related phenomenon.

Still, the whole thing left him uneasy.

Without even checking the time, Katsuki sprinted straight to the medical room (they kicked him out yesterday due to all the screaming he was causing).

Unbeknownst to him, the entire class had just seen him storm out of the dorm building—especially Izuku, who blinked in confusion.

“What was that all about?” Mina asked, genuinely intrigued as she sipped her juice box.

“Should I go check on him?” Kirishima turned to the rest of the Bakusquad, concern flickering in his voice.

“I dunno… he seemed pissed,” Sero added with a shrug.

“When is he not ?” Kaminari deadpanned.

The group burst into comfortable laughter, the sound echoing lightly through the common room.

The class made their way into the classroom, but to everyone’s surprise, Bakugou wasn’t there. Many had expected him to already be seated, arms crossed, grumbling about something or other.

Izuku walked to his seat, frowning as his eyes landed on the empty chair next to him. No Kacchan.

He chatted idly with Ochaco about something silly, both of them passing the time while waiting for Aizawa-sensei to arrive.

But instead?

Present Mic walked in.

“Alright, class—take your seats!” Hizashi called, his usual energy slightly more toned down than usual. Once everyone had settled, he continued, “Aizawa had an important matter to attend to, so he won’t be teaching Heroics Fundamentals today. I’ll be your sub for the day due to his absence.”

The class blinked in surprise. Aizawa never missed class.

“What kind of ‘important matter’ could he possibly have?” Mina whispered dramatically, leaning toward Kaminari.

“Maybe he finally decided to go on a vacation,” Sero joked.

Everyone laughed.

“No way. That man sleeps in a sleeping bag under his desk,” Kaminari added, grinning.

Izuku, meanwhile, couldn't help but glance again at Katsuki’s empty seat, his fingers twitching with nerves. It wasn’t like Kacchan to skip class.

“Maybe he’s with Aizawa-sensei…” he mumbled quietly to himself.

—

Katsuki slammed the door of the medical room open without thinking.

Aizawa glanced up from a clipboard, clearly unfazed by the outburst. “You’re late.”

“Says the one who kicked me out and didn’t let me sleep here!” Katsuki barked, panting slightly. “So, are we heading to the principal’s office or what?”

“I said I’d talk to the principal first thing in the morning,” Aizawa corrected flatly. “You’re just here to deal with the emotional damage.”

“Hah?!”

“Keep your voice down,” Recovery Girl hissed. “She’s still asleep.”

Katsuki froze.

His gaze shifted to the couch tucked in the corner of the room—there she was. Ayumi, wrapped in a thin white blanket, limbs tangled, hair messy, face smushed against a pillow. Peaceful.

Way too peaceful, considering she’d dropped a nuclear truth bomb on his life just hours ago— and somehow overpowered Aizawa’s quirk mid-freakout? How the hell had she done that?

He took a cautious step forward, eyes narrowing. She looked normal. Just a kid. Just a random, weird, possibly delusional kid who—

—mumbled in her sleep, “Dad…”

Katsuki flinched.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

He turned to Aizawa. “You better tell me we’ve got that test back.”

The man nodded. “We do. I didn’t tell you yet because I wanted you here when she wakes up.”

Katsuki scoffed. “So what’s the result? Tell me it’s a mistake. Tell me some other red-eyed blonde got caught in this quirk accident from hell.”

Aizawa met his gaze evenly.

Katsuki’s stomach dropped.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ayumi stirred, nose scrunching against the pillow as a soft groan escaped her lips.

Katsuki tensed immediately.

She blinked open one eye, squinting at the harsh light. “...Whuh?”

Aizawa stepped forward. “Good morning.”

Ayumi sat up slowly, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. Her gaze swept the room—Recovery Girl, Aizawa— Then landed on Katsuki.

She blinked again. “Oh. You’re here.” She gave him a dopey smile.

“You bet I’m here,” Katsuki snapped. “Care to explain why I’m apparently your dad?”

She froze. The smile drained from her face.
“…What?”

“I said—”

 “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she blurted, yanking the blanket over her head like a shield.

Katsuki shot a look at Aizawa. “Tell her.” Aizawa crossed his arms. “The DNA results came.”

Ayumi peeked out from under the blanket, eyes wide with terror. “...And?”
“You’re his biological daughter,” Aizawa said calmly.

Silence.

“No,” she said flatly. “Nope. That test is lying. You probably used his hair gel by accident. Or someone swapped the samples! That happens in movies sometimes!”

Katsuki stared, deadpan. “You done?”
Ayumi clutched the blanket tighter around her. “...Maybe.”

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Kid, we need answers. Who the hell are you? Why are you here? And why the hell didn’t you just say something if you knew all this?”

“I didn’t mean to come here, okay?!” she suddenly burst out, lip wobbling. “I didn’t mean to time travel—I don’t even know how it happened! One second I was going to sleep and then—then I woke up on the floor! In the dark! Alone!”

A beat.

“What?!” Katsuki shouted.

“I was FINE!” she insisted. “Mostly. Some raccoons were really rude, though.” She glanced away. “Even though it wasn’t really raccoons...”

Aizawa sighed. “Focus.”

Ayumi sniffled, hugging her knees. “I just wanted to see if I was really in the past.”

Katsuki stared at her, expression unreadable.

He’d been called a lot of things—loud, reckless, short-tempered.
But dad ?
That was a whole new level of insanity.

And yet… here she was.
With his ruby-red eyes.
His hair.
And a blood test that didn’t lie.

“Shit,” he muttered.

Ayumi peeked up at him, teary-eyed. “...Are you mad?”

He opened his mouth to yell something snarky, but it didn’t come. He didn’t know what he was.

And that scared him more than anything.

“Well, I’m going to head to the principal’s office now that this is settled. Bakugou, watch over her.”

“No need. He knows already.”

“What?” Aizawa looked at her, dumbfounded.

“Well, when I told you I was going to the bathroom yesterday, I actually meant I was going to visit Nezu.” She grinned slyly. “I wanted him to be the first to know before I told you. Since his quirk is super intelligence, he told me not to worry about it and said he’d come first thing in the morning to explain. Guess you beat him to it!”

“Oh. Okay.” Aizawa sat down on the couch across from her. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, a bit,” she said shyly, glancing up at him.

Aizawa almost laughed—how could one kid shift personalities so fast depending on the situation?

“Bakugou, get her some food from the cafeteria.”
“I can go myself,” Ayumi said, hopping off the sofa. “I know where it is.”

Aizawa lifted a hand to stop her as she moved toward the door. “I’m sorry, but for now, only a few teachers and your Bakugou know about you. It’s best if he goes alone.”

Ayumi looked disappointed that she couldn’t tag along with her dad, but she obeyed and returned to the couch.
Katsuki caught the way her lips jutted out in a pout, her big, expressive eyes making it impossible to take her seriously.

He snorted. “Tch. That pout’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” she scolded. “Papa said my pout was mighty! ” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Sure, sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. But he left the medical room with a smile stuck on his face, already heading toward the dorms to grab breakfast for her and himself.

​​Katsuki came back with some homemade breakfast, choosing it over a hard cupcake that expired in two days.

But when he entered the medical room, he stopped cold.

Ayumi was curled into a ball on the couch, sobbing.

Aizawa was crouched beside her, clearly trying to comfort her, but it was obvious—she was in pain.

So much pain that Katsuki could practically feel it himself.

He jogged over, giving Aizawa a look that said: This is all your fault.

 Then he sat beside her.

“Hey, brat—” 

“Bakugou, don’t call her that,” Aizawa scolded.

“It’s my kid. I can call her whatever I want,” Katsuki muttered, shooting another glare at him.
Aizawa sighed.

“What happened?” Katsuki asked, trying to soften his tone, though it still came out rough.

Ayumi didn’t answer. She just sniffled, still curled into herself, face hidden behind her arms.

Just when it seemed like she was calming down, she hiccupped—and started crying again.

Katsuki’s patience was running thin.

Aizawa gave him a subtle gesture: Hug her.

Yeah. No.

But then Katsuki looked down. At the trembling, tiny, eleven-year-old girl—his daughter.

And he gave in.

He reached out stiffly, wrapping an awkward arm around her.

The moment he did, Ayumi unfolded herself and latched onto him.
Her arms wrapped around his torso, her head buried in his shoulder, her tears soaking through his shirt.

He blinked. Totally unprepared.

Then he let her cry.

After a while, her voice came out in a hiccupping whisper.

“I-I’m sorry. I k-know you don’t like hugs yet.”

She cried harder.

Katsuki exhaled slowly. What was her deal with apologizing… It reminded him too much of someone.

“Hey… It’s not your fault,” he murmured. “Stop apologizing.”

She didn’t respond.

“You want some scrambled eggs? I got you some. And there’s juice in the fridge.”

“Y-Yeah…” she sniffled, looking up at him with red, puffy eyes.

Then he realized—
She was cold.

Like, freezing.

“Wait—no. Fuck the juice.”

Aizawa shot him a death glare. Yeah. He was sooo going to get scolded for that later.

Katsuki turned toward him. “Aizawa, can you get her some hot cocoa? She’s freezing! Who the hell gave her the thinnest blanket in existence to sleep in, in mid-November?!”

Aizawa approached and gently touched her hand. It was surprisingly small. And cold.

He sighed. “You could’ve told me earlier, kid.”

Then he turned and left the room.

The door closed.

Katsuki sighed in relief and turned his attention back to the girl still hugging him.

“...Wanna tell me what that was about?” he asked finally, his voice low and gruff, but not angry.

Ayumi didn’t move.

She sniffled again and gave a small shake of her head. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, barely audible.

He exhaled hard through his nose, resisting the urge to groan. “Kid. That wasn’t nothing.”

Ayumi swallowed thickly.

Katsuki leaned back just enough to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “Was it a nightmare? Somethin’ hurt? Did someone say something—?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Then what the hell’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said quickly, shrinking in on herself again.

Katsuki studied her, noticing the stiffness in her shoulders, how her fingers curled into the oversized beige shirt sleeves like she was bracing for something.

It was fear. Deep, cold fear.

“…Was it because of yesterday?” he asked carefully.

Ayumi hesitated.

Then, without warning, she sat back, detaching herself from him, and stared at her arm.

A tiny bruise bloomed near the inside of her elbow, where the skin was tender. It was covered by a skin-colored patch.

Katsuki followed her gaze and instantly understood.

The blood test Recovery Girl had done the night before.

That’s how they’d confirmed it—how they found out she was his.

A quick blood sample, straight from her arm.

“I was tired yesterday,” she said quietly, not looking at him. “Really tired. I never sleep that early, but… it just hit me all at once. I didn’t even brush my teeth—not that I have my own toothbrush in this world.”

Katsuki stayed silent.

“I just got to the couch and passed out. I didn’t even change clothes. Again—not like I have any. I don’t even have underwear.” Katsuki shifted, slightly uncomfortable, but it made sense if she’d just arrived in this world. “I didn’t think. I let my guard down.”

The words sounded almost rehearsed.

Like she was mad at herself for relaxing.

“I woke up and… I asked how they knew,” her voice cracked. “And they told me… bloodwork.”

Her hand trembled as she brushed her fingers over the bruise.

Katsuki’s stomach sank. He remembered the file they handed him, the casual mention of a small blood sample to run a DNA match. Nobody thought twice. Nobody asked the kid.

“I didn’t know they’d do that without your consent,” he said, voice lower than before. “If I had, I—”

“I know,” she said quickly, like she was the one trying to comfort him . “I’m not mad. I just—”

She shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

“…I’m scared of them.”

He blinked. “The teachers?”

She shook her head again, more violently this time. “No. I really like my timeline’s teachers. These younger versions don’t know yet, but… anyway, the needles. I’m scared of them.”

And that’s when it hit him.

“Wait. That’s what this is about?”

She bit her lip, avoiding his eyes.

“You’re scared of needles?”

She nodded, slowly.

Katsuki tilted his head. “Why, though? Did someone mess up once? Or…?”

He stopped.

Because something in her face changed. Her breath hitched. Her expression tightened.

A silent panic flickered across her eyes.

It wasn’t just fear.

It was something else. Something older. Deeper.

Katsuki leaned forward a little.

She tensed.

“What happened with the needles? Why’re you so scared of them?”

She opened her mouth—

But just then, the door flew open and Aizawa-sensei rushed in, sharp and serious.

“Emergency,” he said shortly, motioning to the exit.

Ayumi flinched—barely—but Katsuki caught it. Just a tiny jolt in her shoulders, a flash of something behind her eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by her usual calm as she stood, the white blanket still wrapped around her like a cloak.

She was good at hiding things.

“What kind of emergency?” Katsuki asked, already following.

“Someone from Class 3-A got injured during Quirk training,” Aizawa explained as they moved fast down the halls. Ayumi held the blanket tight around herself, her small frame nearly swallowed by it. She looked like a tiny ghost drifting behind them.

Katsuki snorted.

She glanced up at him with a raised brow, like she’d heard it. “What?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

“I think the best plan,” Aizawa began, “is to hide her in the teachers’ dorm—”

Too late.

Voices echoed ahead of them.

Students.

Familiar ones.

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. That was his class. Aizawa grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back and motioning them to turn, but—

“Shit,” Katsuki hissed. “It’s Todoroki.”

They were out of time, out of options. Aizawa moved to intercept, blocking the hallway with his usual lazy expression, blending right into teacher mode.

“Ah, Aizawa-sensei! Are you heading back to class?” someone asked casually.

Perfect. Stall tactic activated.

Katsuki turned to Ayumi—

She was gone.

He spun around. “Ayumi?!”

“Dad! The window!” her voice rang out from behind him.

He turned just in time to see the window fly open—then her small body leapt straight through it, the blanket fluttering like wings behind her.

“ARE YOU CRAZYY?!?” he roared, blasting after her in pure instinct.

But then he saw it.

Turquoise energy. Swirling around her arms and legs like living wind. It shimmered—

And vanished.

The energy vanished, cloaking her movements mid-air in translucent nothingness, like invisible propulsion. She was doing flips and tricks with it, soaring through the air like a gymnast launched from a cannon.

“LOOK, DAD!!” she shouted gleefully as she spun in mid-air and threw a blast of that same turquoise force.

It hit a tree with a sharp crack , slicing it halfway through. The top half of the tree groaned—

And fell.

“Oops,” Ayumi said, eyes wide now as she dropped from the sky.

Katsuki cursed under his breath and shot toward her, catching her just in time before she hit the ground. His boots sparked on landing, dust flying everywhere.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!” he barked.

She looked up sheepishly. “Don’t worry. I can fix it.”

She stepped forward, concentrating. Her eyes flickered. A turquoise glow lit her palms, and the energy flowed from her fingertips to the broken tree. It shimmered—and then disappeared completely.

Invisible energy.

She raised her hands.

The broken trunk floated, guided by the invisible force, slotting perfectly back into place. A flash. The bark sealed. The tree stood again, almost as if it had never fallen.

Katsuki blinked. “Wait… your Quirk is telekinesis?”

Ayumi smiled. “Sort of. It’s a lot more complicated than that. I’ll explain later.”

She started walking toward the teachers' dorm like nothing had happened, arms behind her head.

He followed after her, still staring.

“Okay, wait, but how the hell do you know this much about U.A.? You’re eleven. You haven’t even stepped into the building yet.”

She threw him a wink over her shoulder.

“For some other time.”

Katsuki grumbled under his breath.

“When Aizawa-sensei gets back, you should take a shower.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

—

The day dragged on like a sluggish cloud, grey and quiet. Without Kacchan by his side during training, Izuku found himself unusually off-balance. Sparring wasn’t the same. The intensity wasn’t there. The back-and-forth rhythm he’d grown so used to was suddenly missing, and the emptiness it left behind felt heavier than he’d expected.

He’d never thought Kacchan’s absence would affect him this much. Not like this.
So something had to be wrong.

Katsuki never just skipped training without warning. Not unless he was seriously injured, unconscious, or—worst-case scenario—emotionally wrecked, which… was rare. Almost impossible. But if there was even a tiny chance something had happened, Izuku couldn’t sit still and pretend everything was fine.

That’s why he was now on his way to the dorms, slightly out of breath from walking too fast, heart pounding with a weird mix of worry and confusion.

But as he reached the final steps of the staircase, he paused.

There, standing outside Katsuki’s room, were five familiar figures.

Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Jirou, and even Kaminari were all crowded around the door, their expressions tense and uncertain. Mina had her hands on her hips, while Kirishima looked like he’d been mid-sentence when Izuku showed up.

“Hey, Midoriya!” Kirishima called out, noticing him. “You came to visit Bakugou too?”

Izuku blinked, caught a little off guard. “Yeah. I, uh... I was worried. I hope he’s feeling alright.”

“He’s probably fine,” Kirishima said with a small, forced grin. “This is Bakugou we’re talking about.”

Izuku gave a slow nod, though the unease in his chest didn’t go away. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… he left kind of suddenly today. Didn’t say anything. That’s not like him.”

“Exactly,” Jirou murmured, arms still crossed, leaning against the wall like she’d been there for a while. “He didn’t even answer his comm. That’s what bugs me.”

“I just think he might be sleeping,” Kaminari offered, shrugging. “Dude gets cranky when he’s tired.”

“But he didn’t yell at anyone today,” Sero pointed out. “Not even once. No insults, no explosions, no murder threats. That’s not normal .”

Izuku wanted to defend Katsuki, to say that maybe he was just having a bad day, or maybe he needed time alone—but something about all of this felt off. Like something was quietly unraveling, and none of them knew what thread to pull.

Before he could open his mouth, Mina stepped up and knocked.

“Hey, Blasty? You in here?” she called cheerfully, her voice slightly muffled against the wooden door.

A pause.

A long silence.

Izuku’s stomach twisted. That silence felt heavy.

“Well... yeah, he’s not,” Kaminari muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “What now? Should we tell a teacher?”

“Let me try something,” Jirou said suddenly, pushing herself off the wall. Her usual calmness was still there, but there was a determined glint in her eye as she stepped forward and turned the doorknob.

It opened with a soft click.

“WHAT?!” Sero nearly yelled. “BAKUGOU NEVER LEAVES THE DOOR UNLOCKED!”

Everyone froze.

“I thought,” Jirou said slowly, “that since he left in a rush today, it might’ve been an emergency. Maybe he forgot. It was a 50/50 chance.”

“NO! IT WAS A 100% CHANCE HE DIDN’T FORGET!” Sero shot back, waving his arms dramatically. “WHAT COULD BE SO IMPORTANT HE’D FORGET TO LOCK HIS DOOR?!”

With growing anxiety, they stepped into the room.

It was quiet. The lights were off, but sunlight filtered in through the curtains, casting shadows across the furniture. Everything seemed… normal.

Sort of.

Except for one thing.

“…He didn’t make his bed,” Mina whispered.

Everyone stared.

The blanket was still half on the mattress, half slipping off. One of the pillows had fallen to the floor. Katsuki always made his bed. Always. With strict corners. With military precision. As if his very identity depended on it.

Kirishima suddenly looked like he was about to cry.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, voice trembling. “Our Bakubro… didn’t make his bed. He’s the most disciplined guy I know! He’s always ranting about order and routine and folding your sheets the ‘manly’ way!”

Mina rubbed his back gently. “Calm down, Kiri. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

But even her voice was uncertain.

Jirou walked further in, scanning the room. “No signs of a fight… nothing’s broken. Just… messy bed. That’s all.”

“That’s enough ,” Kaminari said, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably.

Mina sighed and pulled out her phone. “Okay, how about this—let’s give him a little space, just in case. I’ll text Ochaco and see if anyone else wants to go get some hot coca and drinks. We can chill and maybe give Bakugou time to come back.”

She turned to Izuku. “Want me to ask if your group wants to come too?”

Izuku hesitated. Then nodded.

“Yeah… that sounds good.”

He tried to smile, and it almost worked. Almost. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and everyone noticed.

Because something about this whole situation wasn’t sitting right.

And for some reason, Izuku couldn’t shake the feeling that something had quietly gone wrong.

The group met again near the gates of U.A., bundled in scarves, jackets, and the soft chill of early evening air. Their plan was simple: hot cocoa and a bit of distraction from the weirdness of the day.

Ochaco, Iida, Todoroki, and Asui had joined them, making the group an even bigger mix of energy and tension. They chatted lightly as they walked to the station, their footsteps crunching softly on the pavementl path leading to the metro that would take them to the center of Musutafu.

Mina was leading the way, phone in hand, scrolling through nearby cafes.

“Okay, I’m checking for somewhere with good reviews and cute vibes,” she said, furrowing her brows in concentration as she browsed the web.

As the others trailed behind her, the conversations drifted in and out—jokes, class gossip, weekend plans. It was almost normal. Almost.

Izuku walked with his hands tucked deep in his pockets, his eyes watching the pavement pass by under his shoes, his mind still circling Kacchani’s disappearance. It didn’t feel normal. Not to him.

Todoroki slowed his pace and stepped closer to him.

“I have some information that might interest you,” he said, his voice quiet, but clear enough to cut through the group’s background noise.

Izuku’s head turned quickly. “It’s about Kacchan?”

There was a sting in his chest—a sharp one. He didn’t want to be the kind of person who got jealous, but… it bothered him. Why would Kacchan tell Todoroki something and not him? They were friends—weren’t they? He shook it off quickly. That was selfish. Todoroki deserved to be trusted too. Still, it hurt. He couldn’t lie to himself about that.

“I’m not sure it means anything,” Todoroki said flatly. “But during the time I went to see Recovery Girl, I think I saw Bakugou… jump out of a window.”

Izuku stared at him, blinking in uncertainty. “Are you sure ? You did take a rough hit during Quirk practice…”

“Yeah,” Sero jumped in from nearby. “You faceplanted into the concrete wall, remember? Did you get that checked? Oh, and your arm?”

“I did,” Todoroki nodded. “The medical team said the impact wasn’t serious. That’s why I started doubting myself less. If I wasn’t disoriented… then maybe what I saw really happened.”

The group quieted as that thought settled in.

“…But why would Bakugou jump out a window ?” Mina asked, half-joking, half-worried.

“Maybe he was hiding from someone?” Jirou offered, one earphone still dangling from her shoulder.

“Hiding?” Izuku repeated. “That… doesn’t sound like him. Kacchan confronts problems, he doesn’t run from them.”

“I agree,” Iida said, pushing up his glasses. “Such a method of departure is highly unorthodox—even for Bakugou.”

Todoroki glanced forward as they crossed the street. “I also heard someone yell. I couldn't catch it clearly—it was muffled because Bakugou had already thrown himself through the window—but I think it was something like, ‘ Are you crazy?! ’”

They all shared a quick look.

“Wait—so… was he talking to someone outside the building after he jumped?” Tsuyu asked, her voice calm but curious.

“Maybe he wasn’t alone,” Jirou murmured.

“Oh—OH! Wait !” Kaminari’s eyes lit up. “Guys. Hear me out. What if it was a date? ”

He turned to the group with the smuggest expression possible, clearly proud of his theory. “He could’ve been with someone and panicked! Like— romantically with someone!”

Everyone groaned immediately.

“No way.”

“Impossible.”

“Bakugou? With someone?” Mina laughed.

“Like anyone could survive being near him long enough to call it a date,” Sero added. “Even tho I know someone who could.” He whispered to Mina’s ear and she giggled.

“But wouldn’t that explain it?” Kaminari pushed. “Mysterious behavior. Acting all off. Jumping out of windows. People yelling. Love drama? ”

“I don’t think you understand how Bakugou dates,” Jirou muttered. “If he even knows what that is. ”

“Maybe it was a villain,” Izuku suggested, trying to bring it back to serious thoughts. “Or maybe something personal. If he was arguing with someone…”

No one had answers. The air grew quiet again just as the train arrived.

They stepped onto the platform and boarded, the train’s doors hissing closed behind them.

Whatever the truth was, it was buried under a mess of questions. And as the sunset of Musutafu came into view, none of them could shake the same feeling:

Something was definitely going on with Bakugou Katsuki.

And whatever it was… it hadn’t even begun to show its full shape yet.

They never made it to the café in the end.

Mina’s “vibe check” café, Cocoa Cloud , turned out to have a thirty-minute wait—and as soon as she saw the tiny “Sorry, full for now!” sign on the door, she gasped like someone had personally betrayed her.

“This is so anti-vibes,” she huffed, dramatically turning on her heel. “No aesthetic hot cocoa? Fine. Plan B.”

Plan B turned out to be wandering through downtown Musutafu with paper cups of cocoa from a street vendor instead. And honestly? It wasn’t bad. The air was crisp but not freezing, and the fading sunlight made the buildings glow gold. The group strolled with no real direction, chatting, joking, and occasionally stopping to peek into random shops.

Mostly, it was the girls pulling everyone into accessory stores or bookshops with sparkly notebooks.

“I need this pen,” Mina said for the fifth time in ten minutes, holding up a pink fluffy monstrosity.

“You said that about the last one,” Jirou pointed out, already halfway out the door.

“Midoriya, what’s your opinion?” Mina asked dramatically.

“Huh?” Izuku blinked. “Oh. It’s, uh… fluffy?”

“Exactly!” she grinned, like that confirmed everything.

Meanwhile, Iida tried to keep the group from blocking store entrances (“We must not obstruct traffic!”), while Kaminari and Sero took turns daring each other to try spicy street snacks from a nearby stall.

It was right outside a bookstore when they found her—Momo.

She stood there quietly, holding a wrapped book with a ribbon on it, probably a gift for someone. She blinked when she noticed the group, and a soft smile spread across her face.

“Oh, hey,” she greeted. “I didn’t expect to run into everyone tonight.”

“We’re out doing... uh, therapy shopping,” Mina explained, linking arms with her.

“Hot cocoa therapy,” Jirou added.

Momo tilted her head slightly. “Let me guess—this is about Bakugou?”

The group exchanged glances.

“You knew ?” Kaminari asked, pointing at her in shock.

“I overheard two first-years whispering that he ‘stormed out of class like a villain in a drama,’” she said simply. “Then he didn’t show up to the dorms. I assumed something happened.”

“Momo, you’re literally the smartest person alive,” Mina muttered.

“So,” Momo asked gently, “what’s the plan now?”

“Cocoa. Wandering. Screaming internally,” Sero said with a shrug.

“Possible stalking,” Jirou added under her breath.

Izuku stayed quiet.

He wasn’t really following the conversations anymore. His brain kept replaying Kacchan storming off after morning drills, and that weird, hollow feeling he’d had in his chest since then.

They walked, talked, joked—

And then Kirishima stopped.

“…Wait. Isn’t that Bakugou?”

The group froze.

They turned their eyes across the street, toward the opposite side of the park, where a sidewalk path ran alongside a row of stores.

There, walking calmly under the orange sky, was a very familiar blonde.

“Oh yeah!” Mina gasped. “HEY, BAK—!”

Her voice was cut off by Jirou, who slapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t. Look again.”

They all did.

He wasn’t alone.

Walking beside him was a short girl—really short, she only reached halfway up his chest. She wore a beige coat, black boots, and a knitted hat that covered most of her head, with a low ponytail tied at the back.

And—

They were holding hands.

Like… fingers intertwined, real couple style holding hands.

“SEE?! SEE?! I TOLD YOU! I FREAKING TOLD YOU!” Kaminari whisper-shouted, slapping Sero’s arm. “HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”

“No… freaking… way,” Mina whispered, staring.

Izuku blinked like he was trying to wake up from a dream. Kacchan? Holding hands? With a girl?

“Wait, guys, look,” Tsuyu pointed again. “Look what he’s carrying.”

The entire group squinted. Bakugou’s other hand was loaded down with shopping bags— tons of them. Colorful ones, heavy ones. Some were from clothing stores, some from little homey shops. One had sparkly tissue paper poking out the top.

“He’s her pack mule,” Jirou muttered in shock. “Voluntarily.”

“That’s devotion, ” Momo said, more intrigued than surprised. “He must really care about her.”

Izuku’s mouth was open slightly, but no words came out. His mind was frozen. His heart was… complicated.

“So,” Kaminari leaned toward the group. “What now? Do we say hi? Confront him? Catch him in the act?”

“No,” Mina said, voice low. “We follow them. Duh.”

“Y’all, is this even legal? ” Sero whispered.

But it was too late. The group was already ducking behind a tree.

They crossed the street in full stealth mode , weaving behind lamp posts, parked bikes, and anything tall enough to hide them. Bakugou and the mystery girl walked ahead, completely unaware, their hands still joined like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Where are they going…?” Jirou whispered.

“I say we keep tailing until we find out who she is,” Kaminari said. “This is like—live drama.”

Izuku said nothing.

They stopped at the zebra crossing just in time to see Bakugou and the girl approaching from the other side.

“Jump!” Mina whisper-yelled.

Without warning, she shoved Kaminari into the thick bush beside the pavement.

“AGHH—MY BACK!” he groaned, vanishing into the leaves.

The rest of them followed, crawling into the giant shrub and cramming themselves together like suspicious little gremlins.

“Shhhh! Shut up!” Kaminari whispered, rubbing his elbow.

“But isn’t this some kind of civic violation—” Iida started.

Kaminari slapped a hand over his mouth.

“I wanna seeee!” Ochaco hissed, practically climbing over him to peek through the branches.

They all stared across the street, eyes wide.

Bakugou and the girl were walking casually along the opposite pavement, just past the park’s edge, in front of a row of shops. She had her head down, hat pulled low, hiding her face.

And then—Bakugou half-hugged her.

Arm around her back. Barely a squeeze.

But for Bakugou Katsuki, that was like shouting “I love you” from a rooftop in the rain.

The bush gang collectively lost it.

“WHAAAAAAT?!” they shrieked in unison.

Bakugou paused mid-step. His eyes narrowed.

“Oh no. We’re dead,” Sero muttered.

“SHHHHHHH!!!” Mina whisper-yelled again, smacking him with a leaf.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out:

“KATSUKI?!”

The bush gang whipped their heads toward their side of the zebra crossing—where Mitsuki Bakugou stood, right at the edge of the pavement. Her grocery bags had slipped from her arms, cans and plastic containers rolling in every direction, but she didn’t even flinch.

She was frozen. Absolutely shell-shocked.

Her eyes were wide. Her mouth hung open. One foot was still lifted off the ground, like she’d been about to cross—and then stopped mid-step, unable to move another inch.

Because there, right in front of her, across the street, and walking past the line of shops like nothing was out of the ordinary—

Was her son.

Katsuki Bakugou. Grumpy, rage-fueled, firecracker of a son, who used to screech bloody murder if she tried to kiss his cheek in public.

And right beside him—

A girl.

And best of all—

He touched her.

Not violently. Not angrily. Not by accident.

A half-hug.

Arm around her shoulder. Just enough to scream intimacy.

Mitsuki blinked like she’d just witnessed a ghost.

Bakugou flinched the moment he saw her.

“AH SHIT!!” he hissed.

But the girl didn’t stop.

She darted backwards, suddenly breaking into a sprint that made her hair whip back. Her movements were fluid and sharp, like someone who’d done this before—someone who planned their exits. Like she was trained.

Bakugou cursed under his breath and ran after her.

But he wasn’t the only one.

“KATSUKI YOU LITTLE—!” Mitsuki screamed, voice hitting god-tier decibels as she tore off after them, leaving her groceries behind without hesitation.

Her sandals slapped violently against the pavement as she charged down the street, blonde hair wild in the wind.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT GIRL?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”.

Mitsuki followed them—and she didn’t care if people stared as she screamed.

They vanished around the corner. Gone in seconds.

No trace left behind but the scattered groceries.

The bush gang slowly emerged from the shrubs like confused raccoons coming out of hiding.

Mina gawked. “She—she outran Bakugou.”

“She was like… so fast,” Ochaco said, still frozen in her crouch. “I couldn’t even see her face.”

They turned to Izuku, who was kneeling on the pavement, gently collecting the spilled groceries with a dazed expression.

“She must be really good at this,” he mumbled. “Escaping, I mean.”

“…Maybe we should take these back to the Bakugou’s place.” Jirou suggested quietly.

“I—I can’t believe we lost them!!” Kaminari wailed dramatically, flopping onto the grass like he’d just failed the mission of a lifetime.

“…Who even was that girl?” someone asked again.

But none of them answered.

Because they hadn’t the faintest clue.

—

All of this chaos started when Aizawa-sensei showed up at the dorms holding a wad of cash and said, “Bakugou, take the kid shopping. Clothes, underwear, whatever she wants.”

Ayumi’s eyes lit up.

But Katsuki could tell—by the dark bags under Aizawa’s eyes and the amount of yen he’d been handed—there was more to this than a quick mall run.

After Ayumi disappeared into the dorm’s staff bathroom to freshen up, Katsuki crossed his arms and asked, “So. What did Nezu say?”

Aizawa exhaled, rubbing his temples. “It’s not good. Apparently, if she were hit by a quirk, it would’ve worn off by now. Six hours is the max window for most known time-travel effects. I suggested maybe the timeline’s been stretched somehow, but… even Nezu agreed the math doesn’t add up. It shouldn’t be possible. So…”

He paused. Katsuki could already guess the answer.

“She’s stuck here. For now. A few days, maybe more.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Great.”

When Ayumi came back out, bundled up in the oversized hero jacket, she looked bright-eyed and ready to take on the world. Katsuki wasn’t sure why, but her smile made something quiet and weird settle in his chest.

They took the train to downtown Musutafu.

Katsuki was still determined to figure out her quirk—how the hell it could’ve outclassed Aizawa’s capture scarf and his quirk —but she was happily distracted by every window display, bouncing from store to store, trying on clothes like she’d been waiting her whole life for this trip.

To his surprise, she had decent fashion sense.

Probably got that from him.

She picked out a black leather skirt paired with sheer black tights, a soft beige coat, and black lace-up boots that made her grin like she’d found treasure. She even chose a cream-colored, ribbed winter hat with a folded brim to cover her head. He’d suggested it might be better if people didn’t recognize her—just in case.

She tugged it down low with a secret little smile.

They were on their way to find a scarf next when Katsuki muttered, “It’s not even that cold.”

“I know,” she chirped, skipping beside him. “But I wanted to see if they sell that All Might scarf that goes on sale around this time!”

“You like All Might?”

“Duh. Papa loves him. Like, loves him. But he loves you more, don’t worry.”

“…Eh?”

Katsuki blinked. Papa? What happened to Dad?

Weird kid.

“Hey,” he asked, side-eyeing her. “Who’s your mom?”

Ayumi turned to him, nose scrunched. “Wait. You seriously don’t know?”

“…No?” He frowned.

She squeaked—a sound that made him freeze because it sounded weirdly familiar , like a certain nerd in a panic—and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“No way,” she whispered. “You really don’t know? But you always said—‘After the war, I knew exactly who I wanted to be with for the rest of our lives .’” She lowered her voice, quoting him with suspicious accuracy.

Katsuki snorted. “Ain’t my words. You’ve definitely got the wrong me.”

“I’m sure you have someone in mind.” She grinned, annoyingly smug.

Katsuki didn’t answer. His brain did the thought on its own.

No. No, it couldn’t be who he was thinking of.

…Could it?

“WAIT—”

Before he could finish the thought, she reached up and grabbed his hand, slipping her tiny fingers between his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Katsuki stiffened.

But he didn’t let go.

OH THIS LITTLE BRAT!

They kept walking like that—her swinging their hands a little, hat pulled low, cheeks flushed from the cold and maybe something else.

At one point in the middle of the zebra crossing, she tripped on a loose tile. Katsuki caught her instinctively, steadying her with one arm, and didn’t even think before keeping it there—half-wrapped around her shoulder like a shield.

“Thanks, Dad,” she mumbled, leaning into him.

He didn’t correct her.

Didn’t even yell.

That’s when he looked up—and his heart nearly stopped .

At the end of the street, standing like a frozen statue in broad daylight, was a woman he knew all too well. Wide-eyed. Bags full of groceries now slipping from her grasp.

“KATSUKI?!” his mom screamed, voice slicing through the air like a blade.

Her grip failed. Oranges rolled down the pavement. A carton of eggs shattered like his soul.

“Run,” he hissed, turning to Ayumi—

But she was already moving.

“C’mon!!” she snapped, tugging her hood up and tucking her chin low, weaving through the crowd like a pro.

And his mom? She was sprinting after them.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT GIRL?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!” Mitsuki's voice echoed through the street, pure rage and disbelief twisting every word.

They ran. Past startled civilians. Past honking bikes. Corners of the streets. Ayumi kept leading the charge, Katsuki glancing back every few seconds in case his mom pulled a Full Quirk Detonation mid-chase. Who knows.

“KID!!” she yelled behind them. “IF YOU STOP RIGHT NOW, YOU CAN COME HOME AND EAT SOME OF MY HOMEMADE WARM UDON!!”

Ayumi froze .

Katsuki slammed into her back.

“Why the hell did you stop!?” he barked, breath short.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, a dangerous sparkle in her eye. “I’m sorry, but Grandma’s food is sounding really temptatious right now…”

He stared at her like she had three heads. “ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS?! AIZAWA SAID YOU COULDN’T GET CAUGHT! DIDN’T YOU HEAR?!”

She only shrugged, grinning. “It’s fine. I’m a good liar.”

Katsuki ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“H-Hello!” Mitsuki said, catching her breath. “You damn brats made me run through ten fucking streets, you know that?!”

Katsuki was glad this wasn’t a date—because that would’ve left a pretty bad impression—but Ayumi probably already knew the drill by now.

“I’m Katsuki’s mother, Mitsuki Bakugou,” she said, leaning in and offering her hand. “Are you Katsuki’s girlfriend? You know, it’s about damn time this brat found some—”

“Hi,” Ayumi replied softly, looking up at her with her hat still covering most of her face. She stepped back slightly, curling into herself. “No, I’m sorry… I’m not his girlfriend.”

The mere thought made her stomach turn. Being his girlfriend felt… gross, knowing the truth about who he was to her.

“Anyway—Udon, you were saying?” she asked suddenly, reaching out and linking their hands.

Wow. This girl’s got an appetite. Mitsuki thought. Kind of reminds me of…

They headed to the parking lot, where Mitsuki had left her sleek black car. There was no sign of the groceries she had dropped earlier.

She and Katsuki argued for a bit—something about who was more careless—until they finally arrived at the Bakugou residence: a large, sleek mansion. Despite it already being dark (just past 8 PM), the place was fully lit and looked even more expensive up close.

“What? You don’t look very impressed. Are you wealthy or something?” Mitsuki asked, glancing at the girl as she got out of the driver’s seat.

“N-No! I like it very much!” Ayumi stammered, still not removing her hat or letting her face be seen.

Mitsuki was starting to get suspicious. She hadn’t gotten a proper look at the girl’s face the entire time. Her curiosity was piqued.

“…Wait, you’re not one of Katsuki’s friends dressed as a girl, right?” she suddenly blurted out, narrowing her eyes.

“WHAT?! MOM, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” Katsuki exploded, waving his keys in front of her face in frustration before unlocking the door. “She’s not a crossdressing classmate, holy shit! Why do you always have to say this kind of stuff?!”

He opened the door for Ayumi since apparently his mother was so busy taking matters into her own hands.

“Masaru! Are you home?!” Mitsuki called, hurrying down the hallway. “It’s Katsuki—he’s got a date!!”

“MOM, IT’S NOT WHAT YOU FUCKING THINK IT IS! I’M DONE. I’M CALLING AIZAWA.” Katsuki growled, already pulling out his phone.

Apparently, when Aizawa had given him the money for today, he’d also handed him his personal number—“just in case anything happened” or Ayumi wasn’t feeling well.

Katsuki hated how that was clearly code for “in case your angry-ass personality ruins everything,” which, honestly, was totally rude.

As he dialed the number, Katsuki paused, glancing toward the kitchen where the scent of boiling broth was beginning to drift into the hallway.

“…Hey, why udon?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. “Is it some kind of special occasion or something?”

Ayumi, still slightly flushed from the cold outside, had begun unzipping her coat and walking over to the coat hanger. She slipped it off her shoulders, revealing her outfit underneath.

From the kitchen, Mitsuki’s voice echoed back like a battle cry:
“MASARU, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE, WE HAVE A GUEST—!”

Before Katsuki could process it, a sudden ding echoed through the house.

The doorbell.

“I’ll get it!” Mitsuki called, already tearing through the hallway in her apron like a woman on a mission. She darted past Katsuki, flying from the kitchen to the front door, her slippers smacking against the hardwood floor.

And then she opened the door.

And yeah.

The secret?

It wasn’t surviving this one.

Because standing on the doorstep…

Was Inko Midoriya.

—

Chapter Text

Inko Midoriya.

Standing at the door with a cheerful smile, puffy cheeks slightly red from the cold, eyes bright as ever.

Reality hit Katsuki like a truck the moment Aizawa picked up the call.

Without thinking, he turned and sprinted down the hall, slipping into the nearest restroom and slamming the door shut behind him. Somewhere behind him, he could still hear his mom yelling—

“Katsuki! Get the fuck back here!”

Not now. This was not the time for that.

He held the phone tightly, voice low and rushed.
“Sensei. What the hell do I do.”

Aizawa’s tone came through, calm and stern. “What’s wrong, Bakugou?”

Katsuki exhaled sharply, pacing.
“I’m at home. With the kid. My mom invited us for dinner, and we tried to ditch, but Ayumi caved and agreed to stay for the damn udon. Now—now Izuku’s mom is here too.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“She still hasn’t shown her face or hair to my mom, but it’s bound to happen. And if that happens—fuck. Inko knew me since I was a little gremlin. She’ll recognize the resemblance. Hell, my mom and dad will too. Should we just leave?”

There was a pause on the other end. Then a sigh.

“If they find it suspicious, tell them,” Aizawa said plainly. “It won’t change anything, as long as they don’t spread it.”

Katsuki blinked. “Wait. Just like that? You sure?”

“Yes. And if that’s all, I’ll be hanging up now.”

Click.

Katsuki lowered the phone, staring at the screen like it had just betrayed him.

Then came a loud knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey, brat!” his mom’s voice called out. “Get the fuck out already!”

He groaned under his breath, pocketed the phone, and opened the door.

The hallway was warm and bright. His mom stood just outside, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes.

She took one look at him and facepalmed hard.
“I swear to god, Katsuki. You better not be hiding in there crying or some shit—get your ass to the table.”

He grumbled and opened the door, stepping into the wide hallway and heading toward the kitchen. His mom stood waiting, arms crossed, looking absolutely done with him. She let out a dramatic sigh and dragged a hand down her face.

Back in the living room, Katsuki took his place next to Ayumi, who still hadn’t removed her hat. The cream-colored fabric was pulled low, shadowing her face.

“Oh, don’t be shy, Ayumi!” Inko said sweetly, trying her best to comfort her. “You can take the hat off—no one’s going to hurt you, I promise.”

Then her eyes lit up as she noticed Katsuki. “Hi, Katsuki. What a lovely surprise!”

“Right back at you, Auntie,” he replied, voice a little rough.

“MASARU! I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU’RE STILL AT THAT DESK I’M GONNA—” Mitsuki yelled mid-sentence as she stomped upstairs, clearly on a mission to retrieve her husband.

“I’ll go prepare the dishes,” Inko said with a kind smile as she turned. “You two stay here.”

Ayumi gave a small nod in response, still keeping her head down.

“Are you sure you don’t need—”

“It’s fine, Katsuki,” Inko cut in gently. “You both just rest. I’m sure you’re tired after all that running around.”

She disappeared into the kitchen—which was only a few steps up from the living room, elevated by two small blocks of stairs.

Katsuki blinked.
How did she know they’d been running?

His mom probably told her.
Great. Perfect. Amazing. Auhwuiwhsi—

“Hey, kid,” Mitsuki called, returning with Masaru trailing behind her, eyes puffy and red. “Meet Katsuki’s father.”

Masaru shuffled down the steps toward the dining table and offered a shy hand to Ayumi. She shook it carefully.

“He was crying,” Mitsuki teased. “Thought Katsuki had finally brought home a girlfriend. Guess that’s not the case, huh?”

Ayumi gave a soft, polite laugh. “No, I’m sorry. But I promise—he’ll come with one someday.”

She glanced sideways at Katsuki, flashing him a mischievous grin only he could see.

Katsuki turned bright red.

Inko returned with steaming bowls of warm udon, setting them carefully on the table. After a quick “Itadakimasu,” everyone began eating.

“MMMMMM,” Ayumi moaned dramatically. “I missed this so much!”

Mitsuki and Inko sat directly across from the two teens, with Masaru at the end of the table.

“Our udon?” Mitsuki asked, raising an eyebrow.

“N-no! I mean—just warm homemade udon in general,” Ayumi stammered, quickly trying to correct herself. Her face still remained hidden under the hat.

“I mean, not to pressure you or anything, Ayumi,” Masaru said gently, “but could you take off the hat? We'd love to see your face.”

“N-no! I have a lot of acne!” she blurted, throwing up her hands like she was under interrogation. “I’m super insecure! Sorry, G—Masaru!”

There was a beat of silence.

“…Wait,” Mitsuki said slowly. “We didn’t tell you his name was Masaru, did we?”

“Ah! D—Katsuki told me!” she covered quickly, waving it off.

Good liar?

Yeah right. My dick, Katsuki grumbled mentally, stabbing at his noodles.

“You’re stuttering a lot, Ayumi,” Inko said softly, concern etched into her voice. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine!! Really!” Ayumi said, voice pitching just a little too high.

“That’s it. No more udon for you until you take off that hat,” Mitsuki declared, reaching across the table to snatch away Ayumi’s bowl.

“NOOOOO! I’m really hungry!!” Ayumi whined, reaching for her food like it was her lifeline.

“Mom, let her fucking eat!” Katsuki snapped, glaring.

“No! Show us your face, young lady!” Mitsuki demanded.

Katsuki groaned and leaned over to whisper in Ayumi’s ear, “I called Aizawa. He said it’s fine.”

Slowly, nervously, Ayumi reached up and began removing the hat. First, her messy spiky bangs fell into view. Then—big, expressive red eyes. Her freckles. Her entire face.

Silence.

Mitsuki’s eyes went wide. Masaru nearly choked on his noodles. Inko was frozen, staring.

“WAIT. WHY DO YOU LOOK SO MUCH LIKE KATSUKI?!” Mitsuki yelled, pure shock in her voice.

“LIKE A COPY AND PASTE!” Masaru added, his voice cracking.

“…Tada?” Ayumi said, flashing the tiniest of awkward peace signs.

Katsuki sighed and buried his face in his hands. “Look. This isn’t what you think. She’s… ugh. She’s my daughter. From—”

“KATSUKI?!” Mitsuki shrieked, jumping to her feet. “WHAT THE HELL?!”

“MOM, LISTEN!” Katsuki shouted back, rising too. “SHE’S FROM THE FUTURE! OR—LIKE—AN ALTERNATE FUTURE, OKAY? DON’T FREAK OUT!”

Mitsuki looked like she was about to faint. She slowly lowered herself back into her seat, muttering, “O-oh my god…”

Inko, meanwhile, hadn’t said a word. She was still staring at Ayumi with wide, thoughtful eyes.

“…Why does she kind of look like—”

Ding.

The doorbell.

“I wonder who could be interrupting our dinner,” Masaru said with a nervous chuckle.

“O-oh! Maybe it’s that hair shampoo I ordered!” Mitsuki said quickly. “Inko, come with me. You need to try this new edition—it leaves your hair super soft!”

The two women hurried toward the front hallway to check the security camera near the gate.

And, of course. Just their luck.

“Oh, look! It’s Izuku and his friends!” Inko said cheerfully.

Mitsuki gasped. “Should we tell them to join us for dinner?” She said as she pressed the opening gate button.

“NOOOOO!!” Katsuki shouted, Ayumi already ducking under the table.

“NOBODY CAN KNOW SHE EXISTS OR THAT SHE’S MY FUTURE DAUGHTER!!!” Katsuki added, fully panicked. “IT’S CLASSIFIED INFORMATION!!!”

“OH SHIT!” Mitsuki screamed. “WHY DIDN’T YOU FUCKING TELL US EARLIER?! IT’S TOO LATE NOW!!”

Ayumi yanked Katsuki down by his hoodie with surprising strength, dragging him under the table with her.

A sharp ding from the doorbell rang through the house. Ayumi froze, eyes wide, and Katsuki—though his face didn’t give it away—felt his gut twist.

Shit.

What excuse could they even use?! He couldn’t exactly open the door and say, “Oi, idiots, this is my future kid who just dropped into my life from who-the-hell-knows-where, and I’m stuck with her for a while, so don’t be nosy or I’ll blow you up.”

Yeah. No.

Mitsuki and Inko exchanged a nervous glance before Mitsuki jerked her head toward the door. She swung it open, letting Inko slip out ahead of her. Mitsuki pulled the door mostly shut behind them, leaving only a sliver of the inside visible.

Outside, the group of Class 1-A students turned their heads. They lit up when they saw who it was.

“Oh, hey, Mitsuki-san!” Kirishima called, grinning. “We came to give you the food you dropped earlier!”

Mitsuki blinked. “T-the food?”

“Yeah!” Mina chimed in with her usual bright energy. “We saw you chasing Bakugou and then you—”

“Wait—you saw us?” Mitsuki cut her off, voice rising in pitch.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Y-yeah! Sorry, Auntie, it was kind of… unplanned.” His green eyes darted toward the door. “Did you see who Kacchan was with? We didn’t recognize her…”

“Yeah! Is she his girlfriend?!” Kaminari blurted out, leaning forward like it was juicy gossip.

“Oi!” Mitsuki barked immediately, putting her hands on her hips. “Girlfriend?! Don’t just go spouting crap like that, you little spark plug!”

Kaminari flinched back with a laugh. “Hey, I’m just asking!”

Mitsuki huffed. “I-I didn’t get to catch them in the end.”

Inko, still keeping her polite composure despite the obvious tension, quickly stepped in. “Mitsuki has had a hard time processing all of this,” she said gently, accepting the bag Jirou held out. She bowed slightly. “Thank you so much, everyone.”

—

Izuku could hardly believe it—Kacchan skipping school for a girl? It was so… unlike him. Sure, Katsuki could be unpredictable, but that? No way.

So when they went to drop off the bag of groceries Auntie Mitsuki had lost earlier, Izuku immediately sensed something was off.

They were acting… weird.

His auntie—normally overflowing with confidence—was stuttering. Stuttering! That never happened. And his mom was fidgeting more than usual, speaking quickly, and obviously trying to cover for Mitsuki.

Something was up. And judging by the looks on his friends’ faces, they’d noticed it too.

Which was how they ended up here.

About to break into the Bakugou estate.

…Wait. What?!

“WHAAAAT?!?!” Izuku yelped, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Oh hey, you’re back,” Kaminari said casually. “Midoriya, c’mon. You were the one who suggested this in the first place!”

“EHHHH?!?” Izuku’s voice cracked. “NO WAY! I WOULD NEVER WANT TO SPY ON KACCHAN OR BREAK INTO HIS HOUSE!”

“Midoriya,” Iida said, pushing his glasses up in that way he always did before giving a lecture, “no offense, but you just mumbled something about, ‘I’m going to break into his house and find out.’”

Izuku slapped his palm to his face. “I—I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Deku, you’re, like, really close friends, right?” Ochaco said, tilting her head. “I don’t see the problem.”

“That’s not the—Ochaco, no! We can’t just—”

“Too late,” Mina grinned, already creeping toward the gate they’d been lurking near for the past five minutes.

“Wait—no! You’ll get caught! There are security cameras all over the place!” Izuku hissed, waving his arms frantically.

“Hmp!” Mina said triumphantly, putting her hands on her hips. “Guess you’re gonna have to show us your way of getting into the estate without getting caught.” Her grin turned smug.

“How did you…?” Izuku started, blinking rapidly.

“Mumbling something about, ‘Maybe I can enter from the secret door passage we used as kids to get to the backyard without getting spotted by the cameras,’” Todoroki recited flatly as Mina nodded cockily.

“You’re messing with me! I don’t remember mumbling that!!” Izuku whined, face heating.

“Whatever, Midoriya,” Kaminari said with a lopsided grin, winking at him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT?!” Izuku stammered, his cheeks going scarlet.

“Alright, lead the way, Bakugou’s top stalker,” Mina said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m NOT a stalker!” Izuku blurted, flustered. “It’s not like that — Kacchan and I just happen to be childhood neighbors, and my mom and auntie are friends, that’s all!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Mina teased, folding her arms. “So what’s the plan then? You gonna sneak us in or what?”

Izuku opened his mouth to protest again, but the expectant faces of his friends staring back at him made his resolve crumble. They were all looking at him like he held the key to solving the greatest mystery of their third year. And honestly? Maybe he did want to know what was going on with Kacchan. The way he'd been acting today wasn't normal, and if something was wrong...

"Fine," he sighed, defeated. "But if we get caught, I'm telling everyone this was Kaminari's idea."

"Hey!" Kaminari protested, but he was grinning too widely to be truly offended.

Izuku led them around the side of the estate, his feet automatically finding the familiar path he'd walked countless times as a child. The Bakugou property was massive, with perfectly manicured hedges and security cameras positioned at strategic intervals. But Izuku knew every blind spot, every gap in coverage that he and Kacchan had exploited during their childhood games.

"Okay, here's the thing," Izuku said as they approached the hedge line. "We need to be strategic about this. If we all go in together, we're more likely to get caught."

"So what do you suggest?" Todoroki asked with his usual calm demeanor.

Izuku bit his lip, thinking quickly. "I think it would be best if just a few of us go up to get a better vantage point. Ochaco, Jirou, and me. Ochaco can get us up to Kacchan's balcony safely, Jirou can listen in properly, and if we get caught..." He shrugged sheepishly. "Auntie Mitsuki won't murder me. Probably."

"What about the rest of us?" Sero asked.

"Stay here as lookouts. If you see anyone coming, try to signal us somehow."

"This is either going to be hilarious or a complete disaster," Mina said, but she was already settling into position behind the hedge with the others.

Izuku, Ochaco, and Jirou made their way through the familiar gap in the hedge and across the garden. The house was warm with light, and they could hear the faint sound of conversation and laughter drifting from the windows.

"There," Izuku whispered, pointing to the oak tree whose branches stretched toward the second floor. "Kacchan's room has a balcony. We can get inside from there and hear everything more clearly."

Ochaco activated her quirk, making them all weightless as they carefully guided themselves up through the branches. The familiar sensation of floating brought back memories of childhood games and adventures, though this definitely felt more like breaking and entering than innocent fun.

They eased open the balcony door—thankfully unlocked—and slipped into Katsuki’s bedroom. The room was exactly how Izuku remembered: neat, sharp, and so... Kacchan. From here, the voices downstairs were clearer, carrying up through the open doorway to the hall.

"Oh wow," Jirou said quietly, pressing her earphone jacks against the floor near the doorway. "I can hear everything. Your mom is talking to someone... and Bakugou's there too. And there's definitely a girl."

"What are they saying?" Izuku asked, trying to ignore the weird flutter in his chest at the confirmation that there really was a girl.

Jirou concentrated for a moment, then looked puzzled. "Bakugou's mom just offered the girl some wine. The girl has a really confident voice—she sounds mature. She just accepted it like it's completely normal."

"Wine?" Ochaco raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty adult."

"The girl is talking about how she appreciates good wine," Jirou continued, looking increasingly impressed. "She's got this really sophisticated way of speaking. Very composed and articulate."

Izuku felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Of course Kacchan's girlfriend would be sophisticated and mature. Of course she'd be the type of person who could handle adult conversations and drink wine with his parents like it was nothing.

"Now they're toasting," Jirou said. "I can hear glasses clinking. The girl just made some toast about... appreciating hospitality and new experiences. She sounds really well-spoken."

"She sounds perfect for Bakugou," Ochaco said softly, though she was glancing at Izuku with a concerned expression.

"They're all laughing now," Jirou continued. "Your mom is asking her about her background, and the girl is giving these really eloquent but vague answers. Like she's used to handling questions from adults."

The weird, uncomfortable feeling in Izuku's chest was getting stronger. This girl sounded like everything he wasn't—confident, mature, sophisticated enough to fit seamlessly into adult conversations. No wonder Kacchan was interested in her.

"Oh, now they're talking about future plans," Jirou said. "The girl is saying something about how exciting it is to see how things will develop. She sounds like she's got everything figured out."

Before anyone could comment further, they heard footsteps on the stairs inside the house.

"Someone's coming up," Jirou warned, quickly pulling her jacks away from the floor.

The footsteps were confident and measured, approaching the bedroom steadily.

The bedroom door opened, and they could hear someone moving around inside Kacchan's room with familiarity, like they'd been there before.

"This room is exactly what I expected," came a clear, confident voice. "So organized and... intense."

The voice was definitely female and sounded mature, self-assured in a way that made Izuku's chest tighten with something he couldn't name. She sounded like the kind of person who belonged in Kacchan's life, who could match his intensity and ambition.

"I should get some fresh air," the voice continued, getting closer to the balcony door. "Clear my head a bit."

In a panic, Izuku looked around for somewhere to hide. The only option was...

"The closet!" he hissed, pointing to Kacchan's walk-in closet whose door was slightly ajar.

They scrambled toward it just as the girl began to move across the room. Ochaco's quirk made them weightless enough to move silently, and they managed to slip into the closet and pull the door almost closed just as she stepped toward the balcony.

The closet was cramped and dark, filled with Kacchan's clothes and the faint scent of his cologne. Izuku found himself pressed against Ochaco's back with Jirou squished against his side, trying desperately not to make any noise. A skull-patterned shirt was draped over his head, and he had to resist the urge to sneeze.

"This is so awkward," Ochaco breathed so quietly it was barely audible.

"Shh," Jirou mouthed, though she looked like she was trying not to laugh at their ridiculous situation. She had somehow gotten tangled up in what looked like one of Kacchan's winter coats.

Through the crack in the door, they could see her silhouette as she stood by the balcony, but the angle and lighting made it impossible to make out her features clearly. She had a confident posture, standing straight with her arms crossed as she looked out at the garden and was really short. The same girl as before.

"Fresh air is nice," she said to herself, her voice carrying that same mature confidence they'd heard before. "Though I suppose I should head back down soon."

In the closet, Izuku was trying very hard not to think about the fact that he was basically buried in Kacchan's clothes while some sophisticated girl who clearly belonged in his life was just feet away. One of Kacchan's hoodies had somehow wrapped itself around his arm, and the familiar scent was making his head feel weird and fuzzy.

The girl turned slightly, as if she was about to head back inside, when she suddenly stopped and spoke again. But this time, her voice was directed toward the closet.

"Alright, you three can stop hiding now. This is getting ridiculous."

All three of them froze, hearts pounding. Had she seen them somehow?

"I know you're in there," she continued, her voice taking on an amused but exasperated tone. "And frankly, it's pissing me off. You've been following us around all day, sneaking around the property, and now you're literally hiding in a closet listening to private conversations."

Izuku felt his blood turn to ice. All day? They'd been spotted all day?

"You should be glad I'm being nice about this and not telling Katsuki, but for your information, if you pull this stunt again, I will tell your teachers and you'll be charged with stalking and trespassing. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a long moment of terrible silence before Ochaco finally spoke up, still inside the closet. "We're... we're so sorry," she stammered as the three of them were still covered in Kacchan's clothes.

With that, she disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving the three of them standing there feeling utterly humiliated.

Ochaco immediately activated her quirk, helping them float back down from the balcony in mortified silence. They made it back to the hedge where the others were waiting, all looking expectant and eager for information.

"Well?" Mina asked immediately. "What did you find out? Who's the mysterious girl?"

"We need to go," Izuku said instead of answering, already heading for the gap in the hedge. "Right now."

"What? Why?" Kaminari protested. "Did you get caught? What happened up there?"

"I'll explain on the train," Izuku said, practically pushing his friends toward the street. "But we need to leave. Now. And we can never, ever do anything like this again."

The urgency and embarrassment in his voice must have convinced them, because they all started moving without further argument. It wasn't until they were safely on the train back to the dorms that anyone spoke again.

"Okay," Sero said finally. "Spill. What the hell happened up there? You all look like you got lectured by Aizawa."

Izuku buried his face in his hands. "She knew," he said miserably. "She knew we were there the whole time. All day."

"WHAT?" came the chorus of shocked voices.

"She caught us hiding in Bakugou's closet and basically threatened to have us arrested if we ever try anything like this again," Ochaco added, looking equally mortified.

The train car fell into stunned silence as everyone processed this information.

"So," Kaminari said finally, "Bakugou's mystery girlfriend is not only sophisticated enough to handle his parents, but she's also observant enough to catch a group of trained hero students stalking her?"

"She sounded really mature," Ochaco said softly. "Confident, well-spoken. Like she belonged there."

Izuku stared out the window, that uncomfortable feeling in his chest now mixed with humiliation and something that might have been... disappointment? He'd wanted to know more about this girl, but now that he'd gotten a taste of her personality, it only made him feel worse.

She was everything he wasn't—confident where he was anxious, mature where he was still figuring things out, sophisticated where he was awkward. No wonder Kacchan was drawn to her. And no wonder she'd been so dismissive of their childish spying games.

"Are we going to tell anyone about this?" Todoroki asked practically.

"Tell them what?" Izuku said bitterly. "That we got completely humiliated by some girl who's clearly way too good for us to even be curious about?"

"Hey," Mina said gently, "don't be so hard on yourself. We all agreed to this plan."

The thought made his stomach churn. Whatever chance he might have had of... of what? Being friends with Kacchan's girlfriend? The idea seemed ridiculous now. She'd made it clear that she saw them all as children playing at being heroes, not worth her time or consideration.

The next day arrived with an unsettling sense of normalcy, and so did Kacchan. He was acting... strangely normal considering everything that had transpired yesterday. The tension that should have been hanging in the air seemed almost deliberately absent, as if everyone was pretending nothing had happened at all.

Izuku felt a wave of relief wash over him when he realized that his girlfriend hadn't told on him or betrayed the secret that weighed so heavily on his friends. It was a small mercy in what felt like an increasingly complicated situation. She was... kind of intimidating, to put it mildly. Her presence carried an aura that made everyone around her feel slightly on edge, but since they were supposedly boyfriend and girlfriend, he couldn't exactly voice his concerns about this arrangement. The whole situation felt forced and unnatural, but he had to play along for reasons he couldn't fully explain to himself.

The cafeteria buzzed with its usual lunchtime energy as students chatted and laughed over their meals. Izuku had just received his lunch tray, the familiar weight of it in his hands providing a momentary sense of normalcy, and was scanning the room to find a place to sit down when a voice cut through the ambient noise.

"Hey nerd," Katsuki called out from across the room, his voice carrying that familiar rough edge that somehow always managed to make Izuku's heart skip a beat. "Come here."

For some inexplicable reason, Izuku felt a chill of fear run down his spine at the thought of getting close to Kacchan now. It was a strange contradiction that tore at his heart—part of him wanted nothing more than to rush over and talk to the blonde, to fall back into their familiar pattern of interaction, but another part of him was genuinely terrified. The fear wasn't of Kacchan himself, but of his supposedly intimidating girlfriend and what she might do if she saw them together. The thought of her reaction sent shivers coursing through his entire body, making his hands tremble slightly as he gripped his lunch tray.

Without thinking it through, he yelped in panic and ran away, his feet carrying him as far from the situation as possible. His destination? A restroom stall. The most pathetic hiding place imaginable, but it was the first place his panicked mind could think of.

He sat there in the cramped stall, his head in his hands, letting out a long, frustrated sigh that echoed off the tile walls. This was absolutely ridiculous. HE WASN'T A LONER! HE HAD FRIENDS! HE SHOULD JUST LEAVE THE STALL AND FACE WHATEVER CONSEQUENCES AWAITED HIM OUTSIDE!

But then her voice echoed in his memory, as clear and threatening as if she were standing right there with him: "You've spent 30 minutes and 09 seconds with my Katsuki today, and you've looked at him for 9 hours and 38 seconds. I'm telling on you. He's going to be so shocked he'll never want to see you again. BAHAHAHAHAH"

Yeah, no. He was definitely not risking losing his friendship with Kacchan just like that. The bond they had rebuilt was too precious, too hard-won to throw away over something so stupid. Even if it meant hiding in bathroom stalls like a coward, he would protect what they had.

So he ate his lunch inside the stall, the taste of his food turning to ash in his mouth as he contemplated how pathetic his situation had become. When he was certain that nobody would be around to see him emerge from his hiding place, he finally left the restroom, abandoned his empty tray in the cafeteria, and slunk off to his afternoon classes with his head hung low in shame.

And that humiliating ritual repeated itself the next day, and the next, and... the next, the next, the next, next, next, next, next—

THIS WAS GETTING ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS.

More than a week had passed since this absurd pattern had begun, and Katsuki Bakugou was rapidly losing his damn nerves. His patience, never his strongest virtue to begin with, was wearing thinner with each passing day as the situation continued to spiral into increasingly frustrating territory.

His reasons for frustration were mounting by the hour. First and foremost, Izuku Midoriya was ignoring him for some completely unknown reason, and it was driving him absolutely insane. They had finally gotten on good terms after years of complicated history, had finally found a way to communicate that didn't involve shouting or fighting, and now the damn nerd was avoiding him like he had some kind of contagious disease. It made no sense whatsoever, and the complete lack of explanation was eating at him from the inside out.

To make matters even more confusing, Izuku's friends and his own were acting odd as well, as if they all knew something important but had been sworn to secrecy about it. He could see it in their nervous glances and the way they seemed to be walking on eggshells whenever he was around. Whatever was going on, it was clearly bigger than just Izuku's sudden antisocial behavior.

The second major reason for his mounting frustration? His supposed daughter was still here at U.A., showing no signs of disappearing back to wherever—or whenever—she had come from.

Apparently, Aizawa-sensei and the other teachers had spent the entire past week conducting thorough research on her situation, trying to understand exactly what had happened and how to fix it. After extensive investigation and analysis, all the signs and evidence had led them to one troubling conclusion: she had not been hit by any sort of time-travel quirk, at least not in the conventional sense they were familiar with.

But that revelation only led to an even bigger problem. If she wasn't here because of a quirk effect, then they couldn't simply wait for it to wear off and send her back to her own time. The situation was far more complex than anyone had initially realized. According to their research, even if there was some kind of quirk involved, the effect would likely only last a few hours before she would be pulled back here by whatever force had brought her in the first place. Any attempt to send her away would be completely pointless and potentially dangerous.

So what was their brilliant plan to deal with this unprecedented situation? Test Ayumi thoroughly and see if some type of foreign substance or energy had been introduced into her system that might explain her presence here. It seemed reasonable enough in theory, but there was one major obstacle standing in their way.

The problem was that she absolutely hated needles with a passion that bordered on phobic, and would cause a complete meltdown if it meant avoiding getting any kind of injection or blood draw. Her fear was so intense that she would fight tooth and nail against anyone who tried to approach her with medical equipment.

So, one day after regular classes had ended, the teachers made the decision to restrain her for her own good and the safety of everyone involved. It seemed like the only viable option given her extreme reaction to medical procedures.

Yes, they actually tried to physically restrain a child who was potentially from the future and possessed unknown capabilities.

Guess what happened next? It didn't work. Not even remotely.

The moment she found herself wrapped in the specially designed restraints—thick, reinforced material that was specifically created to contain individuals with powerful quirks and was incredibly difficult to break under normal circumstances—she simply ripped them apart as if they were made of paper. The ease with which she destroyed restraints that could hold back some of the strongest pro heroes was both impressive and deeply concerning.

"MIMI!" Recovery Girl called out desperately, trying to project calm authority while clearly struggling to maintain control of the rapidly deteriorating situation. "We need to test you to see how your body is doing! Please calm down now! This is for your own good!"

"NOOOOO!!" Ayumi screamed back, her voice carrying a level of distress and determination that made it clear she would not be cooperating under any circumstances. "I'M NOT DOING IT ANYMORE!! I DON'T WANT ANY MORE TESTS!!"

Katsuki watched the chaos unfold with a mixture of frustration and grudging respect. Wow. She had seemed really fucking mature the other day handling the situation when she sensed that someone was spying on them and could hear their conversation. But now, faced with medical procedures, she was acting exactly like the child she was—terrified, stubborn, and absolutely unwilling to compromise on something that frightened her to her core.

Ayumi's panicked screaming echoed through the medical wing as she backed herself against the far wall, her red eyes wild with terror. The torn restraints lay scattered across the floor like confetti, a testament to her unexpected strength when pushed to her limits.

"I'M NOT DOING IT!" she shrieked again, her small frame trembling as Recovery Girl approached slowly with the syringe. "I DON'T WANT TO! I DON'T WANT TO!"

Katsuki felt something twist uncomfortably in his chest as he watched her breakdown. This was... this was really hard to watch. She looked so small and terrified, nothing like the confident girl who had handled his parents' dinner conversation with such poise or the intimidating presence who had called out his classmates for spying.

"Ayumi," Aizawa said in his most patient tone, though even his usually steady voice carried an edge of frustration. "We've explained this to you multiple times. We need to run these tests to understand what brought you here. Without understanding the mechanism, we can't figure out how to send you back to your own time."

"I DON'T CARE!" she wailed, pressing herself further against the wall. "I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK IF IT MEANS NEEDLES!"

Recovery Girl sighed heavily, lowering the syringe. "Child, I understand you're frightened, but—"

"NO!" Ayumi's voice cracked with the force of her refusal. "NO MORE TESTS! NO MORE NEEDLES! I'M DONE!"

She bolted then, using that same incredible speed she'd displayed when running from his classmates. But this time, instead of heading for the door, she ran in the opposite direction—straight toward the window at the far end of the medical wing.

"SHIT!" Katsuki cursed, his hero instincts kicking in immediately. "She's gonna jump!"

Aizawa's capture weapon shot out instantly, but Ayumi was already at the window, her small hands pressed against the glass as she looked down at the courtyard three stories below.

"I'll just leave!" she called back to them, her voice thick with tears. "I'll run away and then you won't have to worry about sending me back! Problem solved!"

"Ayumi, no!" Recovery Girl called out, genuine alarm in her voice. "That's far too dangerous! You could seriously hurt yourself!"

"I don't care!" she sobbed, fumbling with the window latch. "I don't want the needles and I don't want the tests and I just want—I just want—"

Her voice broke completely, dissolving into heartbroken sobs that made even Aizawa's expression soften slightly.

"What do you want, kid?" Katsuki found himself asking, his voice gentler than he'd intended. "Tell us what you want."

She turned around slowly, her face streaked with tears and her red eyes—so much like his own—puffy and desperate.

"I just want to go home," she whispered brokenly. "But I don't want the needles. I hate needles. They hurt and they're scary and I don't want them anymore."

Aizawa stepped forward carefully, his hands visible and non-threatening. "Ayumi, I understand you're frightened. But we need those test results to help you get home safely. The tests are the only way we can figure out how to reverse whatever brought you here."

She considered this for a long moment, wiping her nose with the back of her hand in a gesture so achingly familiar that Katsuki had to look away. It was exactly what he did when he was upset and trying not to show it.

"The tests will help me go home?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Aizawa confirmed gently. "But only if you let us run them."

Ayumi looked between the adults and Katsuki, clearly warring with herself. Finally, she let out a shuddering sigh.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll... I'll try. But—" She looked directly at Katsuki, her eyes still glassy with unshed tears. "But only if you stay with me."

Recovery Girl blinked in surprise. "Oh, well, that's certainly acceptable—"

"No, not just stay," Ayumi interrupted, shaking her head. She held out both her small hands toward Katsuki, making little grabbing motions with her fingers. "I want you to hold my hands. The whole time."

Katsuki stared at her outstretched hands, feeling something complicated and warm settle in his chest. "You... you want me to hold your hands?"

She nodded vigorously, the tears still threatening to spill over. "Please? It'll make me feel safer."

There was something so vulnerable and trusting in her request that Katsuki couldn't even pretend to be annoyed by it. Instead, he found himself walking over to her without hesitation.

"Yeah, okay, kid," he said gruffly, gently taking her small hands in his much larger ones. "I got you."

Her grip tightened immediately, as if she was anchoring herself to him. "Promise you won't let go?"

"I promise."

Recovery Girl smiled at the sweet interaction before preparing the syringe again. "Alright, dear. Let's try this slowly. I'm just going to clean a small spot on your arm first."

But the moment the alcohol swab touched her skin, Ayumi tensed up completely.

"It's just cleaning solution," Recovery Girl assured her gently. "Nothing sharp yet."

"I know," Ayumi whispered, but her whole body was rigid with anxiety.

When Recovery Girl finally approached with the actual needle, Ayumi took one look at it and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"NOOOOO!" She tried to yank her arms away, but Katsuki held firm, not painfully but securely.

"Hey, hey," he said quickly, positioning himself so she was looking at him instead of the needle. "Look at me, Ayumi. Just look at me, okay? Don't look at anything else."

But she was already hyperventilating, her grip on his hands becoming almost painfully tight.

"I can't, I can't, I can't," she chanted, tears streaming down her face. "I can't do it, it's too scary, I can't—"

"Okay, okay," Recovery Girl said immediately, setting the syringe aside. "Let's take a break. Clearly, this approach isn't working."

Ayumi was still crying, still clinging to Katsuki's hands like they were the only things keeping her tethered to sanity.

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped. "I know you need the tests but I just... I can't. I'm too scared."

Aizawa rubbed his temples, clearly trying to think of an alternative solution. "Is there anything that would make you feel safer? Anyone else you'd want here with you?"

Ayumi went very still, her tears stopping as if a switch had been flipped.

"Actually..." she said slowly, her voice becoming very small. "There is someone."

"Oh?" Recovery Girl perked up hopefully. "Who? Another teacher? All Might, perhaps?"

"No." Ayumi's grip on Katsuki's hands tightened again. "I... I want my Papa here."

The medical wing fell into complete silence.

Aizawa was the first to speak. "Your... Papa?"

She nodded, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable. "I know it's been more than a week since I got here, and I know I haven't asked for him before, but... but I want him now. I need him. I can't do this without him. I… he’s always been by my side as well when I had to do these type of tests."

Katsuki felt his heart rate spike. She was asking for her other parent. Of course she was. She was scared and overwhelmed, and she wanted both her parents there to support her. It made perfect sense.

Except...

"Ayumi," he said carefully, his voice rougher than usual. "Who... who is your Papa?"

She looked up at him with those red eyes—his eyes—and spoke with quiet certainty.

"Izuku Midoriya."

The silence that followed was so complete that you could have heard a pin drop.

Katsuki felt like the world had just tilted sideways. His mind went completely blank, unable to process what he'd just heard.

Izuku Midoriya.

Izuku.

His Izuku.

"I'm sorry, what?" Recovery Girl squeaked, clearly as shocked as everyone else.

"Izuku Midoriya," Ayumi repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Green hair, green eyes, lots of freckles, cries when he's happy, mumbles when he's thinking really hard, and gives the best hugs in the world. That's my Papa."

Aizawa looked between Ayumi and Katsuki with barely concealed bewilderment. "Midoriya is... your other parent?"

"Uh-huh." She seemed genuinely confused by their shocked reactions. "Why? Is that weird?"

"It's not weird, it's just..." Aizawa paused, clearly trying to figure out how to phrase his thoughts diplomatically. "How exactly... I mean, biologically speaking..."

"Oh, that!" Ayumi brightened up considerably. “Papa carried me! There’s this really cool quirk—super popular—that lets two people have a baby even if they’re the same gender! It’s actually a pretty common quirk, and lots of people use it… even people who can’t have babies normally. Here, in the past, I think there’s someone who has it, but they don’t know how to use it properly yet. They’re called Life Bringers.”

Katsuki felt like his brain was short-circuiting. Izuku... pregnant? With his kid? Their kid?

"You..." he started, then stopped, then started again. "Izuku was... he was pregnant with you?"

"Yeah!" she said happily. "He tells me stories about it all the time. How Dad used to cook all his favorite foods, and how you guys would argue about baby names, and how Dad cried even harder than Papa did when I was born."

Every word she spoke was like a revelation that rewrote everything Katsuki thought he knew about his future.

He and Izuku... together. Not just together, but together enough to have a kid. Together enough to argue about baby names. Together enough for him to cry when she was born.

"Holy shit," he breathed, not caring that he was swearing in front of a child.

"Dad, you're not supposed to swear in front of teachers," Ayumi chided gently, but she was smiling.

That snapped him back to reality somewhat. "Right, sorry. I just... this is a lot to process."

Aizawa was looking at him with a mixture of understanding and amusement. "I can imagine."

"So..." Recovery Girl said slowly, clearly trying to wrap her head around the situation. "You want Midoriya here for the medical procedure?"

"Yes, please," Ayumi said earnestly. "He always holds my hand for shots and tells me stories to distract me. And he sings this really pretty lullaby that makes everything less scary."

The image of Izuku singing lullabies to comfort their terrified daughter made Katsuki's chest feel tight in a way he couldn't name.

"He's... he's good with needles?" Katsuki found himself asking.

"He never gets scared, even when I'm being really loud and difficult. He just stays calm and tries to make me feel safe." Ayumi confirmed.

Of course he did. Of course Izuku would be perfect at comforting scared kids. The nerd had always been naturally good with people, especially when they needed help or support.

Aizawa stood up, decision clearly made. "Alright. I'll go get Midoriya from the dorms."

"Wait," Katsuki said quickly, his mind racing. "Does he... I mean, in your time, does he know? About you being here?"

Ayumi shook her head. "No, this never happened in my timeline. This is all new. At least that’s what I know."

"So if we bring him here now..."

"He's going to find out he's going to have a kid with you someday," Aizawa finished dryly. "Yes, I gathered that."

Katsuki felt panic start to creep in. "Is that... is that okay? Should we be telling him something like that?"

"I don't think we have a choice," Recovery Girl pointed out practically. "The child needs medical attention, and she's specifically requested her Papa. We can't deny her that comfort, especially not when she's already so frightened and is from another timeline."

"But what if it changes things?" Katsuki asked, surprised by how worried he sounded. "What if knowing about the future messes up... whatever's supposed to happen?"

Ayumi tugged on his hands to get his attention. "Dad," she said gently, "it's going to be okay. Papa loves you so much, even if he doesn't know it yet. And you love him too, even if you're scared to admit it."

The simple certainty in her voice made his throat feel tight.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I've watched you two my whole life," she said with a small smile. "You look at each other the same way you did when I was little. Like the other person is the most important thing in the world."

Katsuki had to look away from her knowing gaze.

"I'll go get Midoriya," Aizawa said again, his tone gentler now. "It's going to be fine, Bakugou. If anything, this might actually help clear up some of the confusion that's been going on lately."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Aizawa said with the barest hint of a smirk, "Midoriya has been acting very strange ever since Ayumi arrived. Almost like he's been avoiding you specifically. This might explain why."

Now that Aizawa mentioned it, Izuku had been acting weird. Avoiding him, running away whenever he tried to talk to him, eating lunch in bathroom stalls like some kind of weirdo...

"You think he somehow knows?" Katsuki asked.

"I think," Aizawa said carefully, "that Midoriya is more perceptive than people give him credit for. And I think seeing you with a child who looks exactly like you might have triggered some... realizations."

Ayumi was listening to this conversation with increasing excitement. "Wait, does this mean Papa's been avoiding Dad because he figured out they're supposed to be together?"

"We don't know what he's figured out," Aizawa said quickly. "But we're about to find out."

He headed for the door, then paused. "Bakugou, are you going to be okay with this?"

Katsuki looked down at Ayumi, who was still holding his hands and looking at him with complete trust and affection. His daughter. His and Izuku's daughter.

The thought should have been terrifying. Instead, it felt... right. Natural, even.

"Yeah," he said, surprising himself with how steady his voice sounded. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna be okay with this."

Aizawa nodded and left to retrieve Izuku, leaving Katsuki alone with Ayumi and Recovery Girl.

"So," Recovery Girl said after a moment, clearly trying to process everything she'd just learned. "This is certainly an interesting development."

"You can say that again," Katsuki muttered.

Ayumi squeezed his hands. "Dad? Are you really okay? You seem kind of nervous."

"I'm not nervous," he lied automatically.

She gave him a look that was so knowing and so familiar that it took his breath away. It was the same look Deku gave him whenever he was being stubborn about something obvious.

"Dad," she said patiently, "it's okay to be nervous about seeing Papa. You always get a little weird when you're excited to see him but don't want to admit it."

"I do not get weird," he protested weakly.

"You totally do. You get all grumbly and you pace around and you make that face."

"What face?"

She scrunched up her features in what was clearly supposed to be an imitation of his expression, though it mostly just made her look constipated.

Despite everything, Katsuki found himself laughing. "I do not make that face."

"You're making it right now," she pointed out with a giggle.

Before he could argue further, they heard footsteps in the hallway—two sets, one confident and measured, the other quick and nervous.

Aizawa's voice carried through the door: "Just... try to stay calm, Midoriya. I know this is going to be shocking, but—"

"Sensei, I really don't understand why you need me here for a medical procedure. I'm not trained for—"

The door opened, and Izuku Midoriya stepped into the medical wing, his green curls slightly disheveled and his eyes wide with confusion.

The moment he saw Ayumi sitting there holding Katsuki's hands, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh," he breathed, his face going pale. "Oh no."

Izuku looked between her and Katsuki, his expression cycling through shock, confusion, realization, and then something that might have been panic.

"I... she... you..." he stammered, pointing weakly at each of them in turn.

"Yeah, nerd," Katsuki said, his voice rougher than usual but not unkind. "Apparently, we need to talk."

—

The moment Izuku stepped into the medical wing and saw the scene before him, his world tilted on its axis.

There she was—the intimidating girl he'd been terrified of for over a week. Kacchan's supposedly mature, sophisticated girlfriend who had caught them spying and threatened them with legal consequences. Except... she looked so much smaller now, sitting there with tears streaking down her cheeks and her small hands desperately gripping Katsuki's larger ones.

And now that he was seeing her up close, in proper lighting, without shadows or distance obscuring her features...

She looks like him, Izuku realized with growing confusion. She has Kacchan's eyes, his hair texture, even his stubborn jawline. But there's something else...

"PAPA!" the girl—Ayumi—suddenly shouted, her face lighting up with pure joy as she reached toward him. "You came! I knew you'd come!"

Papa?

PAPA?!

Izuku felt his brain short-circuit completely. This intimidating girl who had been dating Kacchan—no, wait, that couldn't be right—was calling him Papa? How was that even possible? She looked maybe seven or eight years old, which would mean...

"I... she... you..." he stammered, his mind racing through impossible calculations and coming up empty.

He looked between Ayumi and Katsuki, noticing the similarities he’d missed before—but also spotting something new. The shape of her hair was definitely Katsuki’s, but the green streak covering nearly half of the lower part? That was undeniably his trait. Her freckles, scattered across her cheeks, only deepened the resemblance. Her eyes were naturally round—soft and open—but when she got serious, they narrowed, sharp and intense, just like Katsuki’s.

Wait, she looked older than he'd initially thought. Not seven or eight like he'd first assumed, but maybe eleven? Still small for her age, but definitely pre-teen rather than little kid.

Oh my god, he thought faintly. Those look like my freckles.

"Midoriya," Aizawa said calmly, though there was definitely some amusement in his voice. "I think you should sit down for this explanation."

"I—what—how—" Izuku's voice cracked completely. "Sensei, I don't understand what's happening!"

"Okay, let me break this down for you," Aizawa said, settling into his teaching voice. "This is Ayumi. She appeared about a week ago claiming to be from the future. Specifically, she claims to be the daughter of you and Bakugou."

Izuku blinked. Then blinked again. Then opened his mouth, closed it, and made a sound like a dying balloon.

"She's... what?"

"Your daughter. With Bakugou. From the future."

The medical wing fell into complete silence except for the sound of Izuku's increasingly rapid breathing.

"But—but that's impossible!" he finally managed to get out. "I mean, biologically speaking, how would that even—and she's been here a week?! A whole week?! And I thought she was Kacchan's girlfriend?! I've been hiding from his girlfriend for a week but she's actually our—"

"Breathe, Midoriya," Aizawa commanded.

"I'VE BEEN JEALOUS OF MY OWN FUTURE DAUGHTER!" Izuku wailed, burying his face in his hands.

"You were jealous?" Katsuki asked, and there was something almost hopeful in his voice.

"Of course I was jealous! You were skipping school to spend time with some mysterious sophisticated girl who could drink wine with your parents and catch pro heroes spying on her! She seemed perfect for you and I thought—I thought—"

He cut himself off, realizing he was about to reveal way too much about his feelings.

Ayumi giggled despite her tear-streaked face. "Papa, you're being silly. Why would you be jealous of yourself?"

"This is so confusing," Izuku muttered, finally looking up at her properly. "You really think I'm your... Papa?"

"I don't think, I know," she said firmly. "You carried me for nine months, you sang to me when I was scared, you taught me how to control my quirk, and you make the best burned katsudon in the world."

"I... carried you?" Izuku's voice went up an octave.

"Uh-huh! There’s this really cool quirk that lets you get pregnant even though you're a boy. Dad was super protective the whole time."

Izuku looked over at Katsuki, who was looking everywhere except at him, his face bright red.

"Anyway," Aizawa interrupted before things could get more awkward, "we need to run some tests on Ayumi to understand how she got here and how to potentially send her back. She's been... resistant to medical procedures."

"I don't like needles," Ayumi said quietly, her earlier joy fading back into anxiety.

Izuku's heart immediately went out to her. Whether she was really his future daughter or not, she was clearly a scared little kid who needed comfort.

"Hey," he said gently, moving closer. "It's okay to be scared of needles. Lots of people are."

"Even you?"

"Especially me," he admitted. "But sometimes we have to do scary things if they help us or help the people we care about."

She considered this seriously. "Will you stay with me? And hold my other hand?"

Izuku felt his heart melt completely. "Of course I will."

So that's how he found himself sitting beside a child who claimed to be his future daughter, holding one of her small hands while Katsuki held the other, watching Recovery Girl prepare another syringe.

"How did you know we were spying on you that day?" Izuku found himself asking, curiosity finally overcoming his shock.

Ayumi tilted her head. "Spying…"

"You said we'd been following you around all day, and you caught us in Kacchan's closet..."

"SPYING?!" Aizawa's voice cracked with outrage. "You were SPYING on them?!"

"It wasn't technically spying!" Izuku said quickly, laughing nervously. "We were just... concerned? And curious? And maybe a tiny bit... okay, it was totally spying."

Aizawa looked like he was developing a migraine. "We'll discuss this later, Midoriya."

"For another time," Ayumi said with a wink.

“You’ve been at it for more than a week!” Katsuki complained. “I still want to know how the hell you used your quirk when Aizawa was looking right at you!”

"Wait, WHAT?!?!" Izuku said, shocked.

Before anyone could ask more questions, Recovery Girl approached with the needle. "Alright, dear. Just a quick pinch."

Ayumi tensed immediately, gripping both Izuku and Katsuki's hands tightly. "I don't want to," she whimpered.

"I know," Izuku said softly. "But we're both here with you, okay? We won't let go."

The needle went in, and Ayumi let out a scream that could have shattered glass, but she didn't pull away. She just held onto their hands like they were her lifelines, crying but staying still.

"Almost done, sweetie," Recovery Girl assured her. "Just another second..."

Finally, it was over. Recovery Girl quickly bandaged the injection site and stepped back.

"There! All finished. You were so brave—"

But the moment Ayumi looked down at the bandage on her arm, something changed. Her face went completely white, and her eyes took on a distant, terrified look.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no, not again..."

"Ayumi?" Izuku asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"

She was staring at the bandage like it was a venomous snake, her breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

She looked around the medical wing with growing panic, and suddenly she wasn't seeing U.A.'s clean, bright infirmary anymore.

She was seeing that sterile hospital room from when she was younger. The one with no windows, where they'd kept her for months running test after test after test. Where she'd been connected to so many machines that she couldn't move without pulling at wires and tubes.

"Daddy... Papa..." she sobbed, looking around frantically. "Where are they? They said they'd stay but they're not here..."

But they were there. She could see them now, standing by the door looking worried and helpless. And there was Aizawa-sensei too, and All Might hovering in the doorway, and her grandparents outside in the hallway...

The beeping of the machines was so loud, and everything hurt, and she couldn't breathe properly with all the tubes...

"I want to go home," she cried. "Please, I want to go home!"

She bolted then, her quirk activating automatically as pure panic took over. She had to get out, had to get away from the hospital and the tests and the needles and the endless beeping of machines.

"AYUMI!" she heard her parents calling behind her, but she couldn't stop. Her legs were moving on their own, carrying her away from the medical wing and down the hallway.

The hospital corridor stretched endlessly ahead of her, just like in her memories. No windows, no escape, just endless white walls and the sound of footsteps chasing after her.

She heard explosions behind her—Dad using his quirk—and the distinctive crack of Blackwhip as Papa tried to catch her with his tendrils of his suit.

But they'd trained her too well. Even at six and a half years old, she knew how to dodge Blackwhip, how to predict its movements and slip away. The training had been meant to keep her alive, but now it was helping her escape.

She ran and ran, her heart feeling like it was going to burst from her chest, until suddenly she was back in the present moment. The U.A. hallways were different from the hospital corridors in her memory, brighter and more colorful.

But the panic was still real. The fear was still consuming her.

She looked ahead and saw she was about to crash into a group of students—a pink girl, a blonde boy, and someone with tape dispensers for elbows.

Without thinking, she sent out a shockwave from her palms, propelling herself upward to avoid the collision. She flipped in midair and landed in a crouch further down the hallway, then kept running.

"Holy crap!" Mina exclaimed, staring after her. "Was that—"

"Bakugou's girlfriend!" Kaminari finished, his eyes wide. "Why is she running away?"

"That looked like she was in trouble," Sero added, already moving to follow. "Come on!"

So now there were even more people chasing her. She could hear them all behind her—her parents calling her name, Aizawa's capture weapon whipping through the air, and now three more students shouting questions.

"Why is she running?!" Mina called out as they ran.

"Is she really your girlfriend?!" Kaminari shouted.

"WHAT?!? SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, SHE'S MY—" Katsuki started, then cut himself off.

"Your what?!" Sero pressed.

"IT'S COMPLICATED!" Izuku called out, Blackwhip extending from his arms as he tried to get close enough to catch her gently.

"EVERYTHING'S COMPLICATED WITH YOU TWO!" Mina shot back.

"CAN WE FOCUS ON CATCHING HER FIRST?!" Aizawa roared, his capture weapon barely missing as Ayumi ducked under it.

But no matter how fast they ran or how many quirks they used, Ayumi stayed just out of reach, her panic-fueled speed and agility keeping her ahead of all of them as she desperately searched for an escape from the nightmare that existed only in her mind.

Ayumi’s lungs burned, her legs ached, but she couldn’t stop. The hallways blurred, voices behind her becoming a chaotic jumble of panic, confusion, and determination.

Then another voice joined the chase.

“Wait up!” Kirishima’s unmistakable shout echoed as he burst from a side corridor, matching pace with Mina and Sero.

“Kirishima?!” Katsuki barked. “The hell are you doing here?!”

“She almost ran into me! What’s going on?!”

But Ayumi didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Every muscle in her body was locked in the instinctive need to flee, to get as far from the sterile smell and the bandages as possible.

She tore down another stretch of hallway, heart hammering so loudly it drowned out everything else—until the next turn appeared in front of her.

She rounded the corner at full speed—

—and froze.

Her sneakers squeaked against the floor, her body going utterly still. Everyone chasing her stumbled to a halt behind her, gasping for air.

“Gotcha!” Kaminari panted.

“Finally,” Katsuki growled, stepping forward. “You had us—”

But she didn’t hear them.

Because barreling toward them from the other end of the hallway were two more figures—also running, also out of breath.

One had messy green hair, sweat plastering it to his forehead, dark circles under his eyes and his chest heaving with exhaustion. The other had spiky blond hair sticking in every direction, crimson eyes narrowed and wild, but rimmed with fatigue, deep eye bags shadowing his face.

Older. Taller. Worn by time and battle.

And yet, unmistakable.

Her parents.

Her real parents.

She felt her throat tighten, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Papa…? Dad…?”

The sound of her words seemed to hit the two men like a punch to the chest. They slowed, their expressions flickering between shock, relief, and something dangerously close to breaking.

Nobody moved.

The hallway was silent except for the hum of the lights and the ragged gasps of everyone there.

And then—

—

Chapter Text

The silence stretched taut like a bowstring, everyone frozen in the hallway as they stared at the impossible sight before them. Two older versions of Bakugou and Midoriya, clearly exhausted and battle-worn, faced off against their younger selves and the group of confused students.

Ayumi's voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion. "Papa... Dad..."

The older Midoriya's face crumpled with relief and desperation. "Ayumi, thank god you're—"

CRASH!

The sound of shattering glass exploded through the air like a gunshot, cutting off his words. Everyone's heads snapped toward the source of the noise—one of the large windows lining the hallway had been completely destroyed, glass fragments raining down like deadly confetti.

Through the jagged opening stepped a figure that made the blood freeze in everyone's veins.

A tall, unnaturally thin teenager landed gracefully on the debris-covered floor, his movements fluid and predatory. He was dressed in a sleek black suit that seemed to absorb the light around it, every line perfectly tailored to his lanky frame. His dark hair was slicked back with mathematical precision, not a strand out of place, and pristine white gloves covered his hands. The moment his feet touched the ground, he paused to adjust those gloves with deliberate, almost ritualistic care—as if he were preparing for surgery.

Everything about him screamed danger.

"No way…" Ayumi breathed, her face going ashen.

The older Bakugou's expression twisted into something murderous. "The fucking Yamibaras," he snarled, explosions already crackling between his fingers. "How the hell did they follow us here?"

"AYUMI!" both older parents shouted in unison, their voices carrying years of protective instinct and bone-deep terror.

But Ayumi was already moving. Her red eyes blazed with a fury that was purely Bakugou, combined with a strategic coldness that was unmistakably Midoriya. Without hesitation, she spun around and thrust both palms toward the group behind her—toward Aizawa, the students, and her younger parents.

"GET BACK!" she screamed.

A massive shockwave erupted from her hands, but instead of the usual destructive blast Katsuki had seen before, this one formed a perfect circle around the entire group. The invisible barrier shimmered slightly at the edges, trapping everyone inside like insects in amber.

"What the—" Katsuki’s younger self slammed his fists against the barrier, explosions flaring uselessly against the invisible wall. "Ayumi! What the hell are you doing?!"

“Language, brat. ” The older Katsuki hissed.

"Let us out!" Izuku pressed both hands against the shockwave, Blackwhip emerging from his arms only to be repelled by the barrier. "We can help you!"

But Ayumi wasn't listening. Her attention was fixed on the new threat, her small body tense and ready for battle despite the clear terror in her eyes.

"This is seriously not good," Mina muttered, pressing her back against the curved wall of the invisible prison. "Like, really, REALLY not good."

"No kidding!" Kaminari was running his hands along the barrier, trying to find any weakness. "What even is this thing? Some kind of force field?"

"It's her quirk," Aizawa said grimly, his capture weapon already out and ready despite being trapped. "She's using her shockwave ability to create a protective barrier. The question is—protecting us from what?"

"From those creepy people who just showed up, obviously!" Sero pointed toward the window where the teenager in black was now straightening his tie with the same methodical precision he'd used on his gloves.

"But why lock us in here?" Kirishima pressed against the barrier, his hardening quirk doing nothing against the invisible wall. "We could help fight!"

"Because we'd be in the way," Aizawa said quietly, his capture weapon coiling restlessly around his shoulders as he analyzed the barrier's structure. "Look at how the older versions of Bakugou and Midoriya are moving. This isn't their first encounter with these people."

Aizawa's eyes narrowed as he watched the older heroes position themselves protectively in front of Ayumi. Their movements were too coordinated, too practiced. They knew exactly what they were dealing with, and more importantly—they knew they were outmatched.

"Sensei," Izuku called out desperately, still pounding against the barrier. "You have to let us help! She's just a kid!"

"I can't break through this," Aizawa admitted, frustration clear in his voice. "Her control is too precise. She's not just keeping us in—she's keeping something out."

"Something out?" Mina's voice went up an octave. "What do you mean something out?"

Before Aizawa could answer, another figure appeared.

A woman materialized at the broken window like a shadow given form. She moved with the unhurried confidence of someone who knew she held all the cards, stepping delicately through the glass shards without making a sound. An elegant black umbrella was positioned over her head, shielding her from the fluorescent lights as if they were harsh sunlight.

When she smiled at Ayumi, the temperature in the hallway seemed to drop ten degrees.

It wasn't a kind smile. It wasn't even a cruel smile. It was the smile of someone who viewed other people as interesting specimens to be studied and dissected. There was something fundamentally wrong with it—too wide, too knowing, too empty of anything resembling human warmth.

Every person in that hallway, trapped or free, felt their skin crawl at the sight of it.

"Hello, little Umi," the woman said, her voice carrying the kind of false sweetness that belonged in nightmares. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

Ayumi's hands began to shake, but her barrier held firm. "Stay away from me," she whispered, then louder: "STAY AWAY!"

The woman tilted her head, still smiling that horrible smile. "Now, now. That's no way to greet old friends, is it?"

"You're not my friends!" Ayumi screamed, tears starting to stream down her face. "You tried to take me! You hurt Papa! You—"

"We simply wanted to help you reach your full potential," the woman interrupted, her tone now mockingly gentle. She began walking forward with measured steps, the umbrella twirling lazily above her head. "Such a powerful quirk shouldn't be wasted on playing hero, don't you think?"

The older Bakugou moved first, launching himself forward with a massive explosion that should have leveled half the hallway. But the teenager in black simply... wasn't there anymore. He'd moved so fast he seemed to teleport, reappearing behind the older Midoriya with one gloved hand reaching for his neck.

But Midoriya was already spinning, Blackwhip erupting from every part of his suit in a dark web of energy. The tendrils should have wrapped around the teenager instantly—instead, they passed right through him like he was made of smoke.

"What the hell?" the younger Katsuki breathed from inside the barrier.

"Their quirk," the older Bakugou snarled, already launching another attack. "They can touch us, but we can't touch them!"

"That's impossible!" Todoroki protested from inside the barrier. "Every quirk has rules, limitations—"

"Not theirs," the older Midoriya said grimly, dodging another impossibly fast strike from the teenager. "They can make themselves completely intangible to physical contact, but they can still affect the world around them."

Aizawa's eyes widened with understanding. "A selective intangibility quirk. They can choose what they interact with and when."

"Which makes them nearly impossible to fight," the older Bakugou added, sweat already beading on his forehead as he tried to land a hit on his untouchable opponent.

"This is torture!" Kaminari was practically bouncing off the walls of the invisible prison. "We're just stuck here watching while they—"

"While they get their asses kicked," Mina finished, pressing her face against the barrier. "Those older versions of Midoriya and Bakugou are strong, but they can't even touch that creepy guy!"

"Look at Ayumi," Kirishima said, concern lingering in his tone.

Everyone turned to watch the little girl standing at the center of the chaos. She was maintaining the barrier around them while simultaneously watching her parents fight for their lives against an opponent they couldn't even touch. The strain was visible on her face—sweat dripping down her forehead, her small frame trembling with effort.

"She's protecting us," Izuku realized, his voice thick with emotion. "She's using her quirk to keep us safe even though she's terrified."

"But at what cost?" Aizawa muttered, watching the older heroes struggle.

The woman with the umbrella was getting closer to Ayumi with each step, her horrible smile never wavering. "You've grown so much stronger since we last met," she cooed. "I'm impressed you can maintain such a complex barrier while under stress. Our research was correct—you really are special."

"Research?" the younger Izuku echoed from inside the barrier. "What research?!" He said as he banged the invisible wall with brute force, in the end, achieving no effect whatsoever.

But no one had answers, only growing dread as the woman reached into her coat and withdrew a syringe. The needle gleamed wickedly in the fluorescent light, longer and sharper than any medical instrument had a right to be.

Ayumi saw the syringe and her entire world went white with terror. Every nightmare from her childhood came flooding back—the cold hospital rooms, the endless tests, the feeling of helplessness as strange adults did things to her that hurt and scared her.

But this was worse. This wasn't doctors trying to help her. This was the enemy.

Her barrier flickered.

"No," she whispered, then louder: "NO!"

The woman knelt down in front of her with mock gentleness, holding the syringe like a threat and a promise. "This will only hurt for a moment, Umi. Then you'll be able to come home with us where you belong. You’ll even be able to see Yurei like you’ve always wanted to."

"She doesn't belong with you!" the older Bakugou roared, trying desperately to break free from his fight with the teenager. But every time he got close, his opponent would phase through his attacks and reappear somewhere else.

The woman ignored him completely, focused entirely on Ayumi. "Hold still, dear. Fighting will only make it worse."

She reached out with the syringe, aiming for Ayumi's arm—

And Ayumi's world crystallized into perfect, furious clarity.

These people had taken her once before. They had hurt her parents. They had tried to steal her childhood, her freedom, her very sense of self. They had filled her nights with nightmares and her days with fear.

Never again.

Ayumi's small fist shot forward like a missile, connecting with the woman's cheek with a sound like thunder.

For the first time since entering the building, the woman's smile disappeared.

For the first time since entering the building, someone had managed to touch her.

"Impossible," she breathed, stumbling backward as shock replaced her confident composure.

Ayumi was already moving, her barrier around the others still holding as she launched herself into the air with a controlled shockwave. Her red eyes blazed with inherited fury as she looked down at the woman who had dared to threaten her family

"You want to touch me?" Ayumi snarled, and for a moment she sounded exactly like her father. "Let me return the favor."

What happened next would be talked about in whispered conversations for years to come.

Ayumi descended on the woman like a force of nature, her small fists moving faster than the human eye could follow. Each punch landed with the force of a controlled explosion, each kick delivered with surgical precision. She moved like she had been trained by the best heroes in the world—which, considering her parents, she probably had been.

One second: A devastating uppercut that sent the woman staggering.

Two seconds: A spinning kick that connected with her ribs, the crack audible even through the barrier.

Three seconds: Another punch, this one aimed at the solar plexus, folding the woman in half.

Four seconds: A knee strike that lifted the woman completely off her feet.

Five seconds: A final, brutal downward strike that sent her crashing to the floor.

Six seconds: Ayumi landed in a perfect crouch, breathing hard but victorious.

The woman lay motionless on the floor, her umbrella rolling away across the debris-covered ground.

But Ayumi wasn't finished.

The moment the woman hit the ground, the teenager in black stopped his dance with the older heroes and spun toward Ayumi with inhuman speed. His perfectly composed expression had cracked, revealing something cold and deadly underneath.

"You little—"

He never got to finish the sentence.

Ayumi pushed off from the ground with another controlled shockwave, launching herself directly at him. The teenager tried to phase through her attack, confident in his quirk's protection—

And Ayumi's fist connected with his face like a meteor strike.

The impact sent him flying backward, his perfectly slicked hair finally falling out of place as he crashed into the wall hard enough to leave cracks in the concrete. His white gloves were torn, his black suit rumpled, and for the first time since arriving, he looked genuinely afraid.

"How—" he gasped, struggling to push himself upright. "How can you touch us? Our quirk should—"

"Your quirk doesn't work on me now," Ayumi said simply, advancing on him with the same methodical precision he had used when adjusting his gloves. "And you know what? I've been waiting years for a chance to pay you back for what you did to my family."

The teenager tried to scramble away, but Ayumi was already there. Her second attack was even more brutal than her assault on the woman—a combination of inherited explosive power and trained technique that left him crumpled on the floor in under six seconds.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the Yamibaras began to fade. The woman struggled to her feet, her perfect composure completely shattered, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. The teenager managed to push himself upright, his suit torn and dirty, his earlier confidence replaced by genuine terror.

"This isn't over," the woman hissed, but her voice shook with pain and something that might have been fear. "We'll be back."

"Try it," Ayumi snarled, her small hands still glowing with residual energy from her quirk. "I'll be waiting."

The woman's laugh was bitter and broken. "You think you've won? You have no idea what's coming, Umi. This was just the beginning."

With that, both Yamibaras dissolved into shadows, vanishing as completely as if they had never been there at all. Only the broken glass and cracked walls remained as evidence of what had just occurred.

The moment the enemies disappeared, Ayumi released her barrier with a casual wave of her hand, the invisible wall dissolving like it had never existed. The trapped students and teacher stumbled forward, finally free from their prison.

But instead of collapsing from exhaustion like everyone expected, Ayumi bounced on her feet with renewed energy. Her quirk didn't drain her—it energized her. The more she used it, the more alive she felt, power coursing through her veins like electricity.

"Dad! Papa!" she squealed, launching herself through the air with a small shockwave propulsion that sent her flying directly into the arms of her older father.

The older Izuku moved swiftly and caught her, spinning her around as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. The familiarity of the gesture, the way she fit perfectly against his chest, made the younger Izuku's heart ache with something he couldn't name.

"I've missed you SOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!" she exclaimed, her voice bright with joy despite having just fought for her life. "Did you see my kicks? And my punches? I went BAM and then WHAM and then she went flying and—"

"We saw, sweetheart," the older Izuku laughed, his exhaustion melting away at the sight of her enthusiasm. "You were incredible." He started planting quick kisses all over her face.

"Mmph, Papa STOOOOP!!" she protested, trying to wiggle away, half-joking, half because she was being suffocated by affection.

"But I've missed you so much!!" he said between kisses.

"Hey, it's my turn now," the older Katsuki said as Ayumi made grabby hands and Izuku passed her over to his husband.

"DAD!!" she squealed, kissing his cheek. Izuku held an offended expression jokingly. "So you're telling me you don't want any kisses from me, but then you go and kiss Dad?!"

"But Dad won't give me kisses, so I hafta give them to him," she said as she turned to face Katsuki, but he immediately started covering her face with kisses too.

"AHHHHH PAPAAAAA! DAD'S POSSESSED!!! HELP MEEEEEE!!!" she shrieked, trying to escape.

"What do you mean, brat?! We've been worried sick about you these past few weeks," he said, giving her one last long kiss on the cheek while still holding her securely.

"Did you see?! This time I touched them!! I actually touched them!" she said, still not believing it herself.

"Yeah, we were both so surprised, Ayu. Have you been releasing the excess energy regularly? Do they know about your training?"

"Well yeah, I do release it everyday. However... they don't know. I thought maybe it would mess up the timeline...? Since they have me in lockdown mode still, I couldn't technically leave... So I just snuck out during the nights to Ground Beta," she said slyly, and her Papa gave her a proud smile.

"So that's why your right hook was so much better than last—"

"WAIT WHAT?!" Aizawa interrupted angrily, walking up to the family. "You're telling ME that you've been sneaking out TO TRAIN AT NIGHT ON GROUND BETA?!"

Both older Katsuki and Izuku rubbed the backs of their necks, slightly embarrassed that they'd be proud of such behavior and encouraging it.

Aizawa sighed as he ran a hand over his face. "She really is your kid, huh. I'll need to think of a punishment for you. Don't think you're off the hook," he glared at her as she sighed and looked down.

"But Sensei! She has her reasons—she's not like the other kids—" the older Izuku protested, but Aizawa cut him off.

"Sure, but that doesn't justify breaking school rules."

"You have absolutely no idea what we're dealing with," Katsuki growled.

"Nevertheless, you're still my former students, so I have the final say in—"

"Actually, I outrank you now, Sensei," Izuku said boldly. "I'm at least five years older than you, and I'm a licensed pro hero. So yeah, deal with it." He stuck his tongue out childishly.

"That doesn't matter because you haven't completed your teaching certification—"

"HAH! Wanna see his teaching license if you're so smart?" Katsuki said smugly as Izuku handed over his UA faculty ID card.

"Fine, you win. This is ridiculous," Aizawa said, giving up and turning back to the students.

Both older Katsuki and Izuku chuckled, and Izuku told the teacher, "You can still give her a punishment. It's not that we're proud she's been sneaking out—"

Cough cough was heard from the older Katsuki.

"Stop, you're making it worse," Aizawa said without turning to see the couple's grins. "However, come with me. We're going to the conference room to discuss everything with the other pro heroes. Everyone else needs to be debriefed by other faculty about what they witnessed, and this school needs to go into lockdown protocols until we understand the full scope of what we're dealing with."

"But—" the younger Izuku started to protest.

"No buts, Midoriya," Aizawa cut him off. "You'll get answers when we have them. For now, go back to the dorm rooms, all of you now."

"What about the alarms?" the younger Katsuki asked, and for the first time since this whole mess started, he sounded genuinely concerned rather than angry. "Are there more of those freaks coming?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Aizawa replied grimly.

As if summoned by the mention of alarms, Present Mic's voice suddenly boomed through the hallway at maximum volume, making everyone wince.

"EXCUSE ME," he shouted, even though he was standing right there with them, "but can someone please explain why there are ALARMS going off and BROKEN WINDOWS and what appears to be BATTLE DAMAGE in my beautiful school?"

"Mic," Aizawa said tiredly, "indoor voice."

"Sorry," Present Mic replied in a more reasonable volume, though his expression remained concerned. "But seriously, what happened here? The whole school's in panic mode, and I've got students asking if we're under attack."

"We were," Ayumi said matter-of-factly, adjusting her position in the older Izuku's arms. "The Yamibaras found us. But don't worry—I handled it."

Present Mic stared at her for a moment, then looked at the destruction around them, then back at her.

"The Yamibaras… found you? You... handled it?" He said as he lifted his gaze upward to the unknown figures standing. Once he saw an older version of Izuku and Katsuki and his brain short circuited.

"Yep!" she said brightly. "Though I still don't understand how I was able to hit them. Their quirk should have made them completely intangible to physical contact, but somehow my attacks connected anyway. It's quite puzzling from a technical standpoint."

"That," Aizawa said, "is exactly the kind of thing we need to discuss. Conference room. Now. Hizashi, tell the other heroes in the facility to come to the conference room urgently ."

As they began to move down the hallway, the older Izuku lowered his gaze to his watch and he exchanged a worried glance back to his husband who was matching the same concerned face. Izuku’s older self rubbed circles on the back of Ayumi’s back and held her tight as she looked back to see her younger parents and their friends. They all looked worried, confused, and a little bit afraid—which made sense, considering they'd just watched an eleven-year-old take down two dangerous villains like it was routine training.

"Don't worry!" she called out to them cheerfully. "I know this all seems scary and confusing, but everything's going to be fine! Dad and Papa will explain everything, and then we can all have a nice dinner together and I can tell you more about my training techniques!"

The casual way she talked about the situation—like mortal combat was just another Tuesday for her—made everyone's blood run cold.

"That kid is terrifying," Kaminari whispered to Sero.

"Terrifying and awesome," Sero whispered back.

"I'm just glad she's on our side," Mina added quietly. "Okay, but can we talk about how that cutie pie is Midoriya and Bakugou's daughter?!" She squeaked happily, and Katsuki and Izuku turned dark red as they groaned.

—

They made it over to the conference room, where a few teachers were already seated, exchanging worried glances and desperately seeking answers about why the school had gone into lockdown after the alarm had blared for what felt like ages . When they all collectively saw Aizawa entering the room with what appeared to be Izuku Midoriya—or rather, the pro hero Deku—and Dynamight, the two heroes known for their battles against Shigaraki, Bakugo's second chance at life, and Midoriya's loss of his quirk, carrying the mysterious child who claimed to be from the future, they all shot up from their seats in unison.

"What's going on, Aizawa?" Vlad King, the homeroom teacher of Class 3-B, spoke with a voice that was half concerned, half confident. "Did the alarm go off because two older versions of your students broke in? HAH, I didn't think you were the type to gather all of us here for such a ridiculous reason."

"Actually, we entered UA without activating the alarms. However, Kacchan and I don't know why they activated," Deku replied calmly. Aizawa decided to ignore the concerning fact that they had managed to enter the school without triggering the security system.

In an instant, Nezu and another figure marched through the door, their presence immediately commanding attention.

They heard a surprised gasp echo through the room.

"...Young Midoriya and Young Bakugou?" Toshinori said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

They both turned slowly around to face the man whose expression showed complete shock as his eyes moved between them and what Izuku was carrying.

Ayumi.

"All Might! It's great to see you," Izuku said warmly as he gave him a half hug, while Bakugo nodded and allowed a small smile to linger on his lips. "It's nice to see you as well, Principal Nezu." They both bowed respectfully, and Nezu returned the gesture.

"Alright everyone, take your seats," Nezu announced, and they did as they were told. Ayumi climbed onto a seat of her own, positioned between her parents, though only her face was visible due to her lack of height. Older Bakugo snorted playfully at the sight, and she stuck her tongue out at him in response.

"As you can all see, we have two new guests joining us for today's meeting. You know them as Midoriya and Bakugou, our two very own students who are currently attending their final year at UA," Nezu began his explanation. Izuku waved shyly while Bakugo simply scoffed.

Nezu, noticing Bakugou's irritation at the unnecessary introductions, continued more directly. "You all know by now that their daughter, Ayumi, has traveled back to the past, and it's physically impossible for a human to remain in the past for such an extended period of time—we've done the calculations. Do you understand how it's possible for her to travel back to the past and stay for such an extended period of time?" He directed his question to Ayumi's parents, while she fidgeted with her index finger around the white pencil holder lying on the table that had tiny holes containing a pencil and a blue pen.

Silence. Heavy and suffocating.

"W-well," Izuku began, stuttering as all eyes focused on him now, and he found himself reliving this painful memory. "Ayu was already in bed—it was around 11 PM, I think?" He turned to Katsuki, who gave him a confirming nod. "We were planning to go to bed early since I had finished grading some of my remaining exams to hand back to the students first thing in the morning, and Kacchan had fought a villain earlier and wanted nothing more than sleep." He chuckled softly, but then sadness clouded his expression.

"Kacchan went to grab some water since I was thirsty and had a headache. The second I laid myself down on the mattress, I heard a yell and something shatter. I shot up and ran. W-we have amazing security all throughout our house, s-so the possibility of someone breaking in was basically impossible. So I could only pray that Kacchan had accidentally slipped and shattered the water glass instead of some unwanted villain coming with evil intentions, wanting to hurt our family." His grip tightened on his pants. "S-so when I reached the halfway point in the hallway, I heard Kacchan yell for me to grab Ayumi and run, to get her to a safe place. So that's what I did... or tried to do." He sighed, releasing a breath he didn't realize he had been holding until that moment. Ayumi had long forgotten the pencil holder, her big, wide crimson eyes now fixed intently on him.

Izuku looked at his husband with a meaningful glance, which Katsuki understood immediately. Before anyone could analyze what had happened, Katsuki was already taking the lead in the explanation.

"So yeah, the Yamibaras came, and I ran toward them to stall for time, but they had long forgotten about me. They were walking calmly like it was a fucking joke. So I warned Izuku and hoped that he would leave with Ayu. B-but, damn it, when Izuku got there, only Yurei was present, holding an empty syringe, and Ayumi was nowhere in sight. U-uhm, I kind of blasted half of the room and almost destroyed the sample—the only chance we had of knowing WHAT THE HELL they had injected her with." Izuku didn't bother to silence the curse words flowing from his husband's tongue, and Katsuki sure as hell wasn't in the mood to filter any of his words.

"So there wasn't any way to prevent this from happening?" Aizawa asked, his voice heavy with concern.

"Not with their quirk. We can never find a way to block them out. T-they want to expand their power with—" Izuku stopped mid-sentence, glanced at Ayumi, and sighed deeply. "Anyway, uh, our friends helped us find a way back to the past. With the sample they left us PURPOSELY, they tested it and discovered her current timeline. However, they couldn't determine where she was located. A-and, well, yeah. This is—"

"Temporary?" Ayumi asked, already sensing where this conversation was headed. "B-but you just got here! This thing is temporary, right Papa?" She turned to Bakugou with hopeful eyes. "Right, Dad?"

"I'm sorry, Ayu, but we don't know for certain."

Silence filled the room like a heavy blanket.

"...O-okay. And how much time do you have left?" she said, looking daggers at her father as he attempted to cover his watch. "You think I'm stupid, Papa? I saw you glancing at that watch. You've never worn a watch before, and I don't think you're going to start now."

Everyone was SILENCED . How could an eleven-year-old be THIS observant?

"H-honey, I think you're confused. You see—" Izuku said, forcing a smile while still covering the watch with his other hand wrapped around his wrist.

"PAPA, TELL ME THE TRUTH!"

Izuku, finally giving up the charade, said with a breaking voice, "W-we have nineteen minutes left, sweetie." Izuku sniffled as Katsuki placed his hands on her small shoulders.

Her world came to a complete stop.

"...N-no. N-no, YOU JUST GOT HERE!"

"Remember Nakamura, honey? S-she gave me this watch so we would know how much time we could spend in this timeline," Izuku began crying, his voice cracking with emotion. "U-until we're drawn back to our own timeline."

"Look, Ayu, listen to me carefully. We're going to come back, okay? Don't you doubt that for even a second. W-when the Yamibaras return," he sobbed, "we will be right by your side."

"NO!!! PAPA, NO!!" She screamed as she attempted to propel herself toward him, but Katsuki held her back, gripping her tightly as she tried desperately to wiggle free from his grasp.

Aizawa was short-circuiting, shocked by the fact that she had broken through his capture weapon without hesitation. He realized that if it weren't for the fact that her father was the one restraining her, she would have broken his ribs by now with her incredible strength.

"Stay still," Katsuki tried to calm her, but she was incredibly strong. The pro heroes present were visibly shaken and began standing up, recognizing her immense power. "Ayumi Bakugou, you need to stay still for a damn second," he hissed, struggling to keep her under control.

"NOOO!! LET ME GO!!" she yelled with all her might.

"Dad and I will be back before you know it, okay?" Izuku said as he gently rubbed her cheek while tears streamed down her face. "P-Please, Ayumi! D-don't make this more difficult than it already is. Your Dad and I are really trying to stay strong, but we... we can't, okay?!"

"TAKE ME WITH YOU!!" Ayumi begged desperately. "PAPA, DAD, PLEASE!!"

"AYUMI, YOU WILL DIE IF YOU COME WITH US! W-WE CAN'T RISK LOSING YOU TOO!" Izuku said as he wiped away his tears and looked back at the teachers, who were all visibly shaken by the emotional scene unfolding before them.

"Kacchan and I have talked this through extensively. W-we want Ayumi to receive proper training at UA despite her young age. We want her properly prepared for when we return and the war begins against the Yamibaras. Are there any objections?" Izuku raised an eyebrow as he addressed the teachers, who looked around at each other uncertainly.

Aizawa raised his hand, and Izuku nodded, granting him permission to speak. "I'm sorry, Midoriya, but I believe she doesn't need training at her age."

"WHAT? No, she needs to train every single day in order to survive, Sensei. So yeah, if you don't want her sneaking out in the middle of the night to get to Ground Beta, I suggest—no, I insist —that she joins our younger selves' class under your direct surveillance. Also, I would like her to sleep near one of our younger selves as well, just so she can feel like we're still there with her."

"W-wait, what do you mean she needs to train in order to live?" All Might asked, taking a step toward them with deep concern etched across his features.

"A-ah, w-well, the t-thing is—" Izuku started, fidgeting extensively with the gloves of his hero suit.

"Ayu's not like other kids. Her quirk involves the expulsion of her internalized energy. She became very sick when she was younger because the energy was literally killing her from the inside. We had to search the entire world to find a doctor and get some answers. They had to run countless tests to discover what was slowly killing her from within. Once she received her quirk, which manifested when she was four years old, thank god , they quickly discovered that the energy was supposed to convert itself into power and be blasted away from her body. Since the doctors were a little too late in identifying her quirk's nature, she was dying ," Katsuki explained.

Ayumi stopped resisting her father's hold and, fragile from hearing the painful content being discussed, hugged him tightly and curled up, trying to shut out the world around her. Katsuki began rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles to reassure her that all of this was in the past.

"So they told us that she needed to release this energy regularly. She had to discharge it every half hour initially, to try and release the excess energy that had accumulated over all those years , plus what she accumulated each day. Each year, the intervals between releases grew longer, and she was eventually discharged from that horrible hospital environment. Even so, she still wanted to become a hero, even though she had the choice not to pursue that path. She studied like a maniac during all those years in the hospital with nothing better to do, and trained extensively with me, Izuku, and all of our friends as well, including all of you here. You helped us tremendously, and we're eternally grateful . So yeah, she needs to train every day now, or else the energy will slowly torture her from the inside." Katsuki explained, knowing the struggle Izuku faced whenever discussing this topic. He always took the lead in these conversations to prevent all the emotional burden from falling solely on Izuku, even though he himself struggled greatly with it, despite not letting it show.

"Very well. I will allow Ayumi to remain under our care and attend lessons alongside the rest of Class 3-A, under the vigilant supervision of Aizawa and the rest of our teaching staff," Nezu said with finality.

Izuku bowed deeply to him, and Katsuki offered him a grateful smile. Ayumi gripped Katsuki's shirt tightly, her small fists trembling.

"...Please, Dad, d-don't," she hiccupped through her tears. "Don't leave me again."

"Ayu, you have to stay strong. That's what Papa and I want, okay? All Might wants that too—he's super worried about you. And your grandparents? Oh my god, Inko has been sobbing for weeks now. But you need to show them that you're strong and that you will beat those motherfuckers to ash when the time comes."

Izuku shot Katsuki a look of disapproval, and Ayumi chuckled sheepishly through her tears.

"Okay, you didn't hear any of those words, or we're going to the 'reflection corner for inappropriate language' once again," Katsuki said with all the sternness he could muster, which, didn’t work.

"Hey! Why me?! I didn't say any curse words this time!" Ayumi justified herself jokingly, her spirit beginning to return.

"If we go down, we go down together," Katsuki said dramatically with a smug grin.

"Noooo!" Ayumi fake-whined and grinned back at Izuku. "Papa, save me from drowning with Dad! He's completely nuts ." She giggled. "You've really lost your mind this time, haven't you?"

The lighthearted chatter continued, and the teachers couldn't help but observe with a mixture of amusement and deep care. Despite the gravity of the situation, this small family was still finding moments of joy and normalcy.

These were the tiny, precious moments worth holding onto—fragments of light in the darkness that reminded everyone present why they fought so hard to protect what mattered most.

As the minutes ticked away on Izuku's watch, the room seemed to hold its breath. The weight of the impending separation hung heavy in the air, but beneath it all was an unshakeable foundation of love, hope, and determination.

The world still had hope. And as long as families like this existed—families willing to sacrifice everything for each other, willing to fight against impossible odds, willing to believe in tomorrow even when today seemed hopeless—that hope would never truly die.

In just a few minutes, two heroes would return to their own timeline to face an uncertain future. But they would leave behind something far more powerful than any quirk: the unbreakable bond of family, the promise of reunion, and the unwavering belief that love could conquer even the darkest of times.

The future was uncertain, but it was not without light.

Chapter Text

Aizawa led Ayumi back to the class through the seemingly endless halls of UA, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. An hour had passed since the disappearance of Ayumi's timeline parents, and she had finally recharged enough strength to present herself to the class. The weight of their absence still hung heavy in the air around her, but she had managed to compose herself enough for what came next. So now, after what felt like endless sobs and heart-wrenching goodbyes, she was gripping Aizawa-sensei's calloused hand tightly as he led her back to the student dorms, specifically to Class 3-A.

Thankfully, the school administration had shut down the alarms and restored normalcy to the campus, so everything had finally cooled down. The halls that had been filled with tension and uncertainty were now quiet, almost peaceful in their familiar routine.

Aizawa was still somewhat shocked by everything that had transpired—about how quirks in the future had developed and evolved, the complexity of time travel, the sheer impossibility of what he had witnessed. But even so, the quirk that had sent Midoriya and Bakugou from the future wasn't advanced enough or the user hadn't trained their abilities sufficiently for extended temporal manipulation. It was probably someone who lived in their general vicinity and could send people through time, however not for extended periods. Thirty-two minutes—that's what they had confirmed as the maximum duration.

But despite all of that technical complexity, he was genuinely impressed by Ayumi's analytical abilities. The fact that she could deduce so much just by analyzing what was happening around her was remarkable. As well as when she had thrown herself out of the window during their first encounter, as Bakugou had informed him later. And there were many other factors that demonstrated her exceptional capabilities. This kid was definitely not here to mess around or play games. She moved and thought like a perfectly calibrated machine trained specifically for hero work, even though she must have trained extensively to achieve the level of perfection and precision she currently possessed. And she was only eleven years old.

Who would have guessed that such a young child could possess such remarkable abilities?

He certainly wouldn't have.

Sure, there were many talented children scattered throughout the world, individuals who showed promise and potential at young ages. But a level of precision like that, combined with the capacity to analyze situations with such depth and accuracy?

Nope. That was something else entirely.

And he was absolutely certain that his students wouldn't guess the extent of her abilities either. They were about to be in for quite the surprise.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Aizawa asked her gently, noticing how she tensed slightly at the question.

"Y—yeah. Yeah! I can do it," she said with determination, though her voice carried a slight sniffle. "T-that's what they want me to do. And it's for the best. Consider me living in the dorms a form of punishment for sneaking out earlier." She added the last part with a slightly smug tone, trying to inject some humor into the heavy situation.

"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell us about your situation earlier," Aizawa said softly, his usually stern voice carrying genuine concern.

"I know, and I tried to tell you, but I just can't talk about it easily. Dad's always the one who brings up those difficult topics for me so I don't have to say the words myself, s-so I wanted to tell you everything, but... it was just, mm–mh! Anyway, enough of this sappy emotional stuff." She waved her hand dismissively, though her eyes still held traces of the pain she was trying to hide.

"Yeah, I can imagine how difficult that must be," Aizawa concluded with understanding. "We're here now. Are you ready for this?"

"Mhph!" she said with determination, puffing out her cheeks with air in a gesture that was both adorable and resolute.

As the large door to the common area opened with a soft creak, ALL of the class members immediately turned their faces toward the scene unfolding before them. Ayumi was entering with Aizawa holding her small hand protectively. She slowly let go of his grip and walked up to the group of pre-adults, her crimson eyes taking in their dumbfounded expressions with careful observation.

The entire room fell into complete silence, the kind of quiet that felt heavy and expectant.

She felt somewhat shy around them now, which was completely understandable—who could blame her? These were the past selves of people she had known her entire life, yet they were also strangers in many ways. The dynamic was strange and emotionally complex.

"H-hi. I'm Ayumi," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she bowed politely in the traditional manner. "Nice to... see you again?" The question in her tone revealed her uncertainty about how to address this unique situation. She turned to look at Aizawa, who was now approaching her after carefully closing the large main door behind them. He sighed deeply and chuckled softly at the awkwardness of the situation.

"Bakugou, Midoriya?" Aizawa asked, seeking their approval for what was about to unfold.

The two young heroes-in-training looked at each other with wide eyes, processing the surreal situation, and slowly nodded their agreement, though a hint of fear and uncertainty twinkled between them. The BAKUDEKU SQUAD among their classmates was internally going absolutely crazy with excitement and confusion.

"This girl right here," Aizawa said, correcting himself mid-sentence since calling her a 'little girl' seemed inadequate given what he had witnessed of her capabilities. He would go as far as to say she probably possessed a higher IQ than some of the students in the class, "is Ayumi, and she's from the future. She's Bakugou and Midoriya's future daughter from an alternate timeline." The class didn't show much of a surprised reaction to this revelation, as if they had somehow expected something extraordinary like this to happen eventually, and several faces showed visible relief that the mystery was finally being explained. "Anyway, she will be staying here in the dorms under your surveillance and mine. I need to discuss sleeping arrangements involving Bakugou and Midoriya specifically. She will also be attending classes with you starting tomorrow morning."

However, this particular factor definitely altered the class's collective reaction significantly.

"B-but Sensei! She's just a child!" Iida said with deep concern, his arms moving in his characteristic chopping motions as he spoke. "Surely the curriculum and training regimen designed for third-year students would be far too advanced and potentially dangerous for someone her age!"

"Oh hell no, she could probably beat you in a fistfight, man!" Kaminari whined, remembering what he had witnessed earlier and feeling genuinely concerned about his own abilities in comparison.

"No way, she's so tiny that's completely impossible," Mineta protested, his voice filled with disbelief. "We saw her run away with Bakugou while escaping from her mother earlier, yes, but that doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of what's required for hero work. There's still such a long way to go if that's the only skill she possesses." Several nods of agreement rippled through the class from students such as Yaoyorozu, Jirou, Sato, Hagakure, and several others who shared similar concerns. "Sensei, how are you possibly allowing this to happen?" Ochaco asked with genuine worry evident in her voice.

"Believe me when I tell you that Nezu was the one who personally agreed to this arrangement. I had absolutely nothing to do with this decision—it was completely out of my hands. That's exactly what her parents wanted for her, and honestly, I don't see a problem whatsoever with it. She's highly skilled beyond anything you've seen before," Aizawa explained, though he could see the skepticism written across their faces.

"B-but we're third-year students, sir! She's never even attended a hero school before, right?" Ojiro said, his tail swishing nervously behind him. "We regularly engage in training exercises and combat scenarios that she probably hasn't even seen with her own eyes, let alone participated in."

"Listen," Ayumi interrupted, her patience clearly wearing thin, "if you're going to treat me like a helpless baby, we might as well head to the training grounds right now and settle this with a 20 vs 1 match. Aizawa-sensei, you can join them too since I can see you're still having your doubts about my capabilities."

The suggestion sent a ripple of shock through the room. The sheer audacity and confidence in her voice was unmistakable.

"Yeah, no way, I'm not going to fight a kid!" Sero said firmly, even though he had witnessed her incredible power firsthand not too long ago during the earlier incident.

"He's absolutely right, and I'm not going to risk you getting hurt and having your parents return from their timeline just to find you injured under my supervision," Aizawa scolded, his protective instincts kicking in despite his curiosity about her actual abilities.

She let out a frustrated huff, her cheeks puffing out slightly. "Fine, okay, here's the deal: If I get even a single scratch during our match, it's immediately over, and you all win. Same goes if any of you manage to land even one hit on me. However, if after ninety full minutes, none of you have been able to touch me or land a single strike on me, then I win and earn my place in the classes from here on out. Does that sound fair to everyone?"

The room buzzed with whispered conversations as the students processed this unexpected challenge.

"Ninety minutes? Isn't that a bit too long for this kind of exercise?" Bakugou said, raising an eyebrow skeptically as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm no beginner at this, Kacchan. You of all people should know that by now," she said confidently as she stuck her tongue out at him playfully. He pouted in response, a mixture of irritation and grudging respect crossing his features.

"No, Kacchan, it's actually better that way for us," Midoriya interjected thoughtfully, his analytical mind already working through the strategic implications. "The longer duration gives us a significant advantage here. If we gave her less time, she would have much better odds of winning this challenge."

"Yeah, Midoriya's absolutely right, man," Kirishima agreed enthusiastically, his shark-like teeth showing in a confident grin. "There's no possible way a kid can beat all of us combined. We're practically pro heroes at this point! I can practically see our graduation ceremony from here. This victory is definitely ours!"

Several of the other class members started getting hyped up, loving the idea of having an opportunity to prove their worth and skills before graduation, even though they still had several challenging semesters remaining before the actual graduation ceremony would take place and they would officially become professional heroes.

"I really wouldn't test your luck if I were you," Ayumi mumbled under her breath, a slight grin spreading across her face as she began walking toward the door with confident, measured steps.

"Alright, class, we're having an impromptu evening training session," Aizawa announced, his voice carrying both authority and a hint of curiosity about what was about to unfold. "Everyone needs to gear up immediately and meet at Training Ground Beta in fifteen minutes."

The students quickly dispersed, rushing to their rooms to change into their hero costumes, excitement and nervous energy filling the air. Conversations buzzed with speculation about what they were about to witness.

As Ayumi watched them scatter, she stretched her small arms above her head and rolled her shoulders, preparing herself mentally for what was to come. She had been training for situations exactly like this her entire life, and despite the emotional turmoil of the day, she felt a familiar calm settling over her.

Even though nobody in the room knew it yet, especially not the confident students who were chattering excitedly about their guaranteed victory,

Aizawa was getting an increasingly bad feeling about this entire situation.

His instincts, honed by years of experience and countless dangerous situations, were screaming that they were all severely underestimating what this eleven-year-old girl was truly capable of accomplishing.

As he watched her calm, almost meditative preparation, he couldn't shake the feeling that his students were about to learn a very humbling lesson about judging others based on appearances and preconceived notions.

The evening was about to become far more interesting than any of them had anticipated.ç

—

They all made their way to the expansive training gymnasium, where they would be executing what many of them assumed would be a quick and decisive battle. The massive space echoed with their footsteps as they spread out across the polished floor, the overhead lights casting long shadows that seemed to dance with anticipation.

Aizawa had decided not to participate in the fight after all. Technically, since she wasn't officially his student just yet, he could fight her for training purposes like the rest of the class. However, after witnessing her earlier displays of power and analytical thinking, he decided it would be wiser to simply observe the battle from the sidelines and swoop in if things went dangerously wrong. His instincts as a teacher and hero told him that his intervention might be needed—though perhaps not in the way his students expected.

Midoriya was also positioned with him on the sidelines, having significant trouble using his quirk for combat purposes now that One For All was steadily fading away from his body. The devastating twist of losing such an amazing quirk, and watching such an incredible wielder of it struggle with its disappearance, weighed heavily on everyone who knew the truth. Aizawa was genuinely proud of his former problem child—very proud—but now, with his quirk starting to fade like dying embers, Izuku had wisely decided to sit this particular battle out. Besides, his analytical mind would be invaluable in helping Aizawa observe and understand exactly what they were about to witness.

The students began walking confidently toward the main area of the gym, their hero costumes gleaming under the bright training facility lights. Ayumi stood calmly in the center of the space and waved to them cheerfully, signaling for them to come closer with a gesture that seemed almost innocent. She wasn't wearing any elaborate hero suit like the rest of them—instead, she was dressed in something remarkably simple: a white baggy shirt that was clearly way too big for her small frame and some black legging shorts, despite the fact that it was the middle of winter. The casual attire only seemed to emphasize how little she thought she needed to prepare for this encounter.

Kaminari was the first to approach her, drawn by her friendly demeanor, and she extended her small hand toward him with what appeared to be a genuinely cheerful smile lighting up her young features. "Let's have a good match!" she said with enthusiasm that seemed to radiate warmth and sportsmanlike spirit.

Kaminari, easily matching her apparent enthusiasm and feeling confident about the upcoming easy victory, responded with equal energy. "Yeah! This should be fun!"

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, the happy, cheery smile on Ayumi's face slowly faded and transformed into something entirely different—a grin that held shadows and promises that made the temperature in the room seem to drop several degrees. "Good luck," she said softly as she gripped his hand with surprising strength, causing Kaminari to instinctively pull away from her grasp. A cold shiver ran through his entire body at what had just transpired, though he couldn't quite articulate why the simple interaction had felt so ominous.

Bakugou, appearing at the scene with his characteristic scowl, watched as she immediately ran toward him with renewed energy. "After this is over, I hope you were right about everything you told me!" she said mysteriously as she looked back toward Aizawa and gave him a knowing nod.

Bakugou was genuinely confused by her words. What did she exactly mean by that cryptic statement? [What Ayumi was actually referring to was something her older father had told her—that his younger self wouldn't be able to break through her defensive barrier. But of course, young Bakugou had no way of knowing this conversation had ever taken place.]

"Okay, students," Aizawa announced, his voice carrying across the vast space with authority, "everyone will be positioned around the interior perimeter of the gymnasium. When the timer officially starts, you will all simultaneously attack Ayumi, who will remain in the center of the gym." He paused, studying their confident faces. "Remember, you need to either land a hit or inflict even the smallest scratch within ninety minutes to win."

"This is going to be like child's play," Ojiro said with complete innocence, blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold in just a few short seconds. His tail swished casually behind him as he stretched his arms in preparation.

"I know, right? What a perfect way to prove that we're absolutely ready for graduation," Hagakure responded with complete and utter confidence, her invisible form practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of an easy victory.

"I don't know..." Todoroki said thoughtfully, his heterochromatic eyes studying Ayumi with careful consideration as he joined the conversation. "For Principal Nezu to personally accept her into our program, she has to be some kind of significant challenge, right? He doesn't make decisions like this lightly."

"Maybe he just pitied her situation?" Ojiro suggested with an awkward chuckle, though even as he said it, something in his gut told him that wasn't the case.

Everyone moved to their designated positions around the edge of the training area, the circular formation creating an imposing wall of hero students ready to converge on their single target. The atmosphere was electric with anticipation and overconfidence as they prepared for what they assumed would be a quick demonstration of their superiority.

The second Aizawa's whistle pierced the air and the ninety-minute countdown timer began its relentless march, the students wasted absolutely no time in attempting to get the job done as efficiently as possible.

They all began their coordinated assault, moving like a well-oiled machine: Bakugou propelling himself high into the air with controlled explosions to catch her in a blind spot from above, Kirishima's skin hardening into an impenetrable rock-like surface as he charged forward, Mina preparing her corrosive acids with practiced precision, Kaminari running at full speed while building up electrical charge, Ochaco preparing her fingertips to make contact and remove Ayumi's gravity to prevent her from dodging their attacks, Iida's engines roaring to life as he achieved maximum velocity, Todoroki preparing a massive wall of ice that would capture her and prevent any possible escape route—

However,

They were exactly two crucial milliseconds too slow.

The very instant they initiated their carefully coordinated attacks, a massive, invisible, perfectly spherical shockwave erupted from Ayumi's position and sent all of them flying backward into the gymnasium walls with tremendous force. She hadn't lifted even a single finger. Hadn't moved so much as an inch from her original position. Hadn't even blinked.

The impact against the walls was thunderous, echoing through the massive space like a symphony of defeat.

"You're going to have to try way harder than that if you want to get anywhere close to me," she called out cheerfully, her voice carrying a tone that was half mocking, half genuinely encouraging them to step up their game. "Come on, I expected way more action than that from UA's finest!"

How were the students feeling after experiencing this reality check?

Let's check in with them, shall we?

...

Complete and utter silence filled the gymnasium.

Yes, that assessment was indeed accurate. The students all wore the exact same dumbfounded expression that had been plastered across their faces the first time Aizawa had told them she would be attending the hero course with them. They were all pressed against the wall from the sheer force of her defensive shockwave, and now they were slowly peeling off and falling to the floor in various states of shock and disbelief.

Okay, so maybe this wasn't going to be quite as much of a simple children's game as they had initially thought.

Cool!

Cool, right?

...

Yeah, this was definitely going to be significantly harder than anticipated.

"So she's primarily a defensive-type hero, hmm..." Todoroki observed analytically as he picked himself up off the ground, ice crystals still clinging to his right side from his interrupted attack.

"Actually, I can fight offensively too!" Ayumi's voice echoed cheerfully throughout the gymnasium, her tone almost conversational. "I would love to show you my combat skills, but since I'm supposed to be defending myself according to our agreement, I can't really demonstrate that side of my abilities. But I would absolutely love to have a proper battle with all of you sometime!"

"Yeah," Mina said with a grunt, dusting off the debris from her hero costume as she struggled to her feet, "you should have seen her earlier fighting techniques. I would honestly say she's even more skilled at offensive combat than she is at defending herself. Alright, guys, let's regroup and try a completely different approach!"

And that's essentially how the next sixty grueling minutes proceeded.

Again and again and again.

Attempt after failed attempt.

And what were the results of their increasingly desperate efforts?

Yeah, absolutely none whatsoever.

Not even getting remotely close to success.

They tried everything their collective tactical minds could conceive: changing their positioning and approach angles, attempting entirely different strategic tactics, inserting only specific people she might have emotional connections to and therefore go easier on, trying to distract her with cute animals (where they even got those was a mystery), pretending to give up and not care about the challenge before launching surprise attacks (which resulted in them getting launched backward before they could even begin their "surprise" offensive), attempting to overwhelm her with projectiles and ranged attacks—nothing worked. She was far too attentive to her surroundings, too aware of every single movement and intention. They even tried deploying an actual training cannon, which surprisingly Aizawa didn't bother to tell them to stop using, only for the cannonball to somehow reverse direction and explode directly in their faces instead of anywhere near their intended target.

So yeah, their situation wasn't looking particularly promising.

And neither was their rapidly depleting stamina.

"S-sensei," Kaminari whined pathetically as he rolled around on the floor like he was completely intoxicated, his usual spiky hair now flattened against his head with exhaustion. "Fifteen minute break please! We're literally dying over here!! I can't feel my legs!"

Ayumi simply gave a short, understanding nod toward Aizawa, indicating that she had absolutely no problem with allowing them a brief respite to recover.

The students all stumbled toward the benches like defeated warriors and grabbed their water bottles, gulping down large chunks of the precious liquid as if they had been wandering in a desert for days. The reality of their situation was starting to sink in: they still had another full hour to go, or this eleven-year-old kid would officially join their class despite not even being close to their age or experience level!

Right...

Then something significant clicked for the entire class as they sat there in their exhausted huddle.

If they lost to an eleven-year-old girl, that would mean they were completely unworthy of being Class 3-A students, let alone approaching graduates ready for professional hero work.

And in what was literally a 19-versus-1 battle scenario, they would have been defeated by a single child.

Yeah, they were so not losing this challenge.

That's exactly why they formulated what they believed to be their most brilliant plan yet while Ayumi sat peacefully eating the sandwich that Izuku had thoughtfully handed to her a few minutes ago, completely oblivious to their scheming.

"Okay, here's our master plan," Kaminari whispered conspiratorially, his voice barely audible to avoid detection. "We convince Aizawa to restart the timer for the second period without blowing his whistle to officially signal the restart. That way, we'll have the critical advantage since she's going to be completely distracted with that delicious sandwich Midoriya gave her—it's perfect bait!"

"I'm not entirely sure the sandwich was intended as bait, Kami, but I think that's actually a brilliant tactical idea!" Mina said enthusiastically, before the others quickly shushed her since there was a significant risk that Ayumi might overhear their carefully laid plans.

"I'll go talk to Aizawa and get him on board," Kirishima said with a sly, determined smile spreading across his face. "You guys get into position for the ambush."

Right on cue, Aizawa gave them a subtle nod from across the gymnasium, obviously wanting to help facilitate both the class's learning experience and ensure Ayumi's continued safety during the exercise.

Kaminari began to tiptoe toward her with exaggerated stealth, moving as silently as humanly possible while trying to suppress his natural clumsiness.

Tip toe.

Tip toe.

Tip toe.

Tip— SMASH.

He fell flat on his face with a resounding thud that echoed through the gym.

But here's the thing: he hadn't tripped on his own.

Ayumi giggled melodically, now positioned just a few centimeters in front of his prone form as she turned around to face him with an innocent smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

He found that he physically couldn't stand up, no matter how hard he tried.

"HEY!—WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!?" Kaminari demanded with a genuinely worried tone, struggling futilely against whatever invisible force was keeping him pinned to the ground.

What Ayumi wasn't going to see coming, though, was the fact that the rest of Class 3-A had positioned themselves directly behind her while she was focused on Kaminari's predicament, their eyes locked on their target with predatory focus.

Just one touch! That's all they needed!

SWOOSH!

Yeah, so they had thought with naive optimism.

Instead, they got sent flying back to that increasingly familiar gymnasium wall that was really fighting for its structural life, trying desperately not to acquire permanent student-shaped dents from the repeated impacts.

"OWWWW! THAT WAS OUR BEST TACTICAL PLAN YET!!" Mina complained loudly, her voice echoing her frustration and physical discomfort.

"I completely agree! It really wasn't a bad strategy at all—I swear it should have worked!!" Ayumi said apologetically, rubbing the back of her neck with what seemed like genuine regret. "It's just... well, I guess it isn't really compatible with the way I instinctively dodge and counter your attacks?? Sorry about that!"

"I OFFICIALLY GIVE UP!! BUT PLEASE LET ME STAND UP!! I'M LITERALLY BEGGING YOU!!" Kaminari pleaded desperately from his position flat against the floor.

She giggled softly as she took the final large bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully as she nodded in agreement and turned to address the rest of her defeated opponents.

"So..." she said with complete and utter confidence radiating from her small frame, "do you all agree to surrender? Because if you officially surrender, that's an instant win for me according to our original agreement."

"Aren't you even remotely tired?!" Mina asked incredulously, her voice filled with whining disbelief at the apparent injustice of the situation.

It was genuinely ironic, really—during any actual war period or crisis situation, Ayumi would have been an absolutely invaluable asset to have on their side.

"Nope!" Ayumi replied cheerfully, as if she were discussing the weather rather than an intense ninety-minute battle. "I guess I've only used about five percent of my actual capabilities so far!"

Complete and total silence fell over the gymnasium like a heavy blanket.

EHHHHHH?!?!?!

The collective scream of disbelief from the entire class was so loud it probably could have been heard from the main campus building.

"So I guess that constitutes an official surrender, huh?" she said with unmistakable mockery dancing in her voice and a satisfied smirk playing across her lips.

"N-no! We're absolutely not going to give up just yet, right guys?" Ochaco turned desperately to her classmates, her brown eyes filled with determination that refused to accept defeat. "We can't let ourselves be beaten this easily!"

With her words of inspiration and renewed determination, the entire class somehow found their second wind and felt recharged, ready to give this impossible battle everything they had left in them.

They refused to let Ayumi replace them or prove them unworthy.

They were Class 3-A, the elite of UA High School, and they would not go down without giving everything they possessed.

Ayumi, easily picking up on exactly where this surge of renewed motivation was heading, smiled genuinely, genuinely happy that they had recharged their energy and fighting spirit. She respected their refusal to give up, even in the face of seemingly impossible odds.

She released the invisible weight that had been keeping Kaminari pinned to the floor and gently pushed him toward a wall where he could safely recover. She offered him a polite bow of apology for the temporary imprisonment.

Then she turned to face the already attacking teenagers who were launching themselves toward her with everything they had left, their hero costumes torn and their bodies exhausted but their spirits unbroken. However, this time, she decided to let them get much closer than before.

"G-GUYS!" Kirishima shouted with genuine excitement and hope, his hardened fists raised triumphantly. "WE MIGHT ACTUALLY DO THIS!! WE MIGHT ACTUALLY WI—"

But without any visible movement from Ayumi, without even a gesture or change in her relaxed posture, some of the attacking students were suddenly flat on the floor as if gravity had increased tenfold around them, while others found themselves launched high into the air and gently pressed against the ceiling of the massive gymnasium. Some invisible force held them there securely so they wouldn't fall to the concrete floor below and sustain serious injuries.

"Fuck," Bakugou growled from his position pressed against the gymnasium ceiling, his palms sparking with frustrated explosions that seemed to have no effect whatsoever. "We can't even successfully land a long-distance attack, and we sure as hell can't get close enough for physical contact. How is this even possible?!"

"I could just leave you guys up there on the ceiling and down here on the floor until the timer completely runs out, but that wouldn't exactly be fair, now would—" Ayumi started to say with consideration for their dignity.

"WAIT! KAMINARI TOUCHED YOU!" Mina suddenly shouted from her position on the floor, her voice filled with desperate hope and excitement.

"Hmm, Kaminari, is that actually true?" Ayumi asked with the utmost tranquility in the world, as if she were asking about his lunch preferences rather than addressing a potential game-changing moment. She turned calmly to face the blonde student who was positioned behind her.

"N-NO, GUYS! I-I CAN'T ACTUALLY TOUCH HER! THERE'S LIKE AN INVISIBLE WALL OR BARRIER!" Kaminari whined desperately as he attempted to use his electrical quirk on whatever was blocking him, but Ayumi simply used her power to gently push him back to the floor before he could complete his attack.

"SO WAS THIS ENTIRE EXERCISE COMPLETELY POINTLESS??" Kirishima said, his voice deadpan and filled with the crushing weight of realization. "Let's be completely real here, guys—we aren't even close to overcoming her first basic defensive shockwave. HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY DEFEAT HER???"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it for me. I officially give up," Mina declared with finality, attempting to lift her arms in surrender, though the gesture was somewhat difficult since she was still pressed firmly against the floor by Ayumi's quirk, unable to move freely.

"Well, if you're all giving up, that's an instant win for me, which means I CAN OFFICIALLY GO TO SCHOOL WITH ALL OF YOU! Sound cool?" Ayumi said with a sly, victorious grin spreading across her young face like sunshine breaking through storm clouds.

The exhausted students nodded their heads in collective defeat, and Aizawa blew his whistle with a sharp, clear note that indicated the official end of the match. The second the whistle's sound faded into silence, Ayumi immediately released her quirk's hold on all the students who were pressed against the floor. For those who were stuck against the ceiling of the gymnasium, she released them as well, earning several terrified screams as they began to fall—only to find themselves being lowered gently and safely to the ground by her careful control.

She jogged over to retrieve her plastic water bottle and drank from it in small, measured gulps, her breathing completely normal and steady.

Not even a single drop of sweat was visible on her face or body.

This kid absolutely wasn't real.

As the students slowly picked themselves up from the floor, groaning and stretching their sore muscles, the full reality of what had just occurred began to sink in. They had been completely and utterly outclassed by someone less than half their age, someone who looked like she could have been their little sister.

Aizawa watched the scene unfold with a mixture of professional assessment and genuine amazement. His instincts had been absolutely correct—they had all severely underestimated what this eleven-year-old girl was capable of accomplishing. But more than that, he was beginning to understand exactly why her future parents had insisted on this arrangement.

This wasn't just about training or education. This was about preparing for a war that hadn't happened yet, against enemies they couldn't imagine, with stakes higher than any of them could comprehend.

As Ayumi continued to sip her water with the casual demeanor of someone who had just completed a light warm-up rather than a ninety-minute battle against nineteen opponents, Aizawa found himself both impressed and deeply concerned about what the future held for all of them.