The flashing red and blue lights from the police cars outside sliced through the gaps in the curtains, casting cold streaks of light across the dark ceiling.
Beyond the windows, the blaring of loudspeakers, the heavy stomp of footsteps, and the murmurs of a curious crowd blended into a buzzing, headache-inducing cacophony.
The police had set up a fifty-meter barricade around the Bakugo residence to keep out extremists, clout-chasing vloggers, and self-proclaimed “justice heroes” from social media who were itching to throw rocks or splash paint on the door.
Inside, Bakugo Katsuki sat hugging his knees on the bed.
the room was submerged in an eerie, bone-chilling silence.
His family was no longer here.
On the very night the scandal broke, the police and school had arranged for his parents to be moved to a safe location to escape the storm of public opinion.
Katsuki still remembered the moment they left with painful clarity.
His father, Masaru, could only bow his head in silence, his face hollow and aged by years in just a few hours.
As for his mother, Mitsuki… she didn’t scream.
She didn’t slap him with her usual fiery temper.
Her everyday aggression had vanished completely, replaced by a hollow, cold, and utterly stunned gaze.
“I’m truly… truly disappointed in you, Katsuki.”
Her voice was low and broken.
She turned and walked away without looking back even once.
Those words pierced through Katsuki’s arrogant shell and lodged deep in his chest, hurting far more than any attack he had ever endured.
For the first time in his life, the boy who had always seen himself as the center of the universe felt the world around him shattering into pieces.
He clenched his fists, nails digging deep into his palms until they drew blood.
He frantically searched his chaotic mind.
Who?
Who the hell did this?
What bastard had dug up that old middle school CCTV footage?
That nerd?
No fucking way!!
Katsuki gritted his teeth and rejected the idea.
That coward’s pathetic, overly sympathetic nature would never allow him to stab someone in the back like this.
Then who?
A cold glint flashed in Katsuki’s eyes as he remembered the bastard who had insulted him in the hospital.
The one who had casually stolen points during the entrance exam and issued open threats.
Onodera Ryuga.
That guy’s attitude.
The blatant contempt.
The way he looked at Katsuki like he was nothing but trash.
Everything about him was suspicious.
But reason quickly dismissed the thought.
Onodera Ryuga was just a fifteen-year-old kid.
No matter how strange his Quirk was, stealing classified data, collaborating with cyber criminals… that was beyond fantasy.
Even the most powerful criminal organizations would struggle to pull it off, let alone a first-year student who had just been battered in the U.S.J incident.
Katsuki clutched his head, roughly messing up his ashen blond hair.
Every line of thought led to a dead end.
Gentle Criminal had claimed responsibility on live television, yet Katsuki still felt an invisible hand tightening around his throat from the shadows.
A week had passed since that fateful night.
A week of being confined to his own home, and Katsuki had tasted every flavor of collapse.
The first few days were Denial.
He smashed his phone when he read U.A.’s message about his indefinite suspension.
Impossible!
I’m the winner!
I’m the strongest!
He screamed within the four walls, convinced that tomorrow Aizawa-sensei would call and tell him to come back.
That this was just a test, or even a prank.
But the phone never rang.
Then came Anger.
Katsuki went berserk.
He destroyed everything in his room.
He used his Quirk to blow up his desk, torn his All Might posters, and roared curses at the world, at Deku, at this hypocritical society that had cornered him.
Why won’t anyone acknowledge my talent and my hard working?
Why destroy me over one stupid mistake from the past?!
And when the smoke settled and the room lay in gray ruins, Bargaining arrived.
Katsuki knelt on the cold floor.
“What if I apologize?
What if I bow my head to that nerd, to the press, will they…forgive me?
I’ll promise never to lose my temper again.”
His pride as the strong was crushed, replaced by pathetic, hopeless pleading.
But the public outside didn’t want apologies.
They wanted a scapegoat, a person to entertained them with drama and negative news.
Finally, Depression swallowed him whole.
Katsuki sat hugging his knees in the corner of the dark room.
The once fiery red eyes were now dull and lifeless.
There were no more crackling explosions in his palms.
No more dreams of standing at the pinnacle of glory.
He realized a cruel truth: The heroic future of Katsuki Bakugo… was dead.
Right now, in this pitch-black room, the once arrogant boy had been completely broken.
…
Somewhere else in Musutafu, another room was also sunk in darkness, though of a completely different kind of suffocation.
There was no rage.
No screaming or smashed furniture.
Only the quiet of self-torment.
Midoriya Izuku sat hugging his knees on the bed, empty eyes fixed on the All Might poster on the wall.
The phone screen had long gone dark, yet the newspaper headlines and vicious online comments targeting Kacchan still danced madly inside his head.
“Suicide instigator.”
“Criminal wearing a student’s skin.”
“Scum of society.”
Izuku bit his lower lip until it bled.
*It’s not true.
No one understands.
Kacchan really did terrible things… but he wanted to become a hero more than anyone.
He doesn’t deserve to have his entire life destroyed like this…*
He buried his face in his knees as hot tears spilled out again, soaking the fabric of his pajama pants.
Izuku knew he was the victim.
He knew he was the one who had been hurt.
Yet his blindly kind nature – the soft-heartedness that ran bone-deep – would not allow him to enjoy the “revenge” society was currently delivering.
He felt guilty.
He felt as if his very existence, his weak past, had indirectly killed his childhood friend’s dream.
And then, amid that chaotic swirl of thoughts, a name suddenly flashed through Izuku’s mind like a bolt of lightning out of a clear sky.
Onodera Ryuga.
Izuku’s head snapped up, pupils contracting.
He remembered the day at the hospital, Ryuga’s cold, sharp gaze when he spoke indirectly about Bakugo.
He remembered his open hostility toward Bakugo from the very first days, the way he had corrected Ida, the way he seemed to see straight through people.
Ryuga knew something.
He had probably known from the beginning that something like this would happen sooner or later.
“Wait… There’s no way…” Izuku clutched his head, breathing growing rapid.
“Did Onodera-san release that video?
Did he work with that criminal?
But how?
He’s always at school, always training with everyone… And how could he possibly hack the national television network?”
Logic immediately screamed that it was impossible.
A high school student couldn’t possess that level of power or technological ability.
And even if he hated Bakugo, he had no reason to go that far.
“Stop thinking, Izuku!” He lightly slapped his own cheek.
“What are you doing?
Onodera-san is your benefactor!
He’s the first person besides Mom and All Might who truly believed in you and stepped forward to protect you!
And yet you’re suspecting him of being the mastermind behind a criminal plot?
You’re a terrible person, Izuku…”
The guilt of doubting his friend coiled around Izuku’s throat and tightened.
Caught between pity for the boy who once bullied him and suspicion toward the one who had protected him, his mind felt like a string stretched to the breaking point.
…
Outside the bedroom door, Midoriya Inko stood silently, one hand pressed against her left chest where her heart ached with worry.
She had watched the video.
She had cried until she fainted when she learned what her precious son had endured throughout middle school.
She hated herself for never noticing the quiet withdrawals or the unexplained injuries.
She hated the Bakugo family for enabling their child.
But above all, she worried for Izuku.
“He’s far too fragile,” Inko thought, tears welling.
“The pressure of U.A., the villain attack, and now this massive scandal… It’s all far too much for a fifteen-year-old.
At this rate, Izuku will break…”
She raised her hand to knock, then let it fall.
She knew her son needed time.
But how could a mother simply stand by and watch her child wither away?
Ding-dong~
The sudden doorbell shattered the quiet Sunday morning.
Inko startled, hurriedly wiped her tears, straightened her apron, and hurried to the front door.
Who would come at this hour?
Police?
Reporters?
If it was nosy journalists, she swore she would use her Quirk to hurl their cameras out into the street.
She took a deep breath and cracked the door open.
“H-Hello, ma’am!”
Standing there was neither police nor reporters nor anyone suspicious.
It was a girl.
An extremely adorable girl with shoulder-length brown hair, a round, always-rosy face, and large, sparkling eyes full of sincerity.
She wore a simple denim jumper dress over a pale pink long-sleeved shirt, both hands tightly hugging a carefully wrapped box of sweets.
“I-I’m Uraraka Ochako!
I’m Deku’s… I mean, Izuku-kun’s classmate!” Ochako stammered, bowing so deeply her forehead nearly bumped the doorframe.
Inko blinked.
Her mind froze for three full seconds.
A girl.
Coming all the way to their house on a Sunday morning, bringing sweets, and calling her son by his real name after accidentally using a deeply affectionate nickname?!
According to every long-running drama series she watched in her free time, this could mean only one thing.
“Oh my goodness!” Inko covered her mouth, eyes welling with overwhelming emotion.
“Are you… are you Izuku’s girlfriend?!”
“W-W-What?!”
Ochako’s face immediately exploded into the color of a ripe tomato.
Her entire body seemed to emit steam as her hands flailed wildly in the air.
The box of sweets nearly fell if she hadn’t activated her Quirk just in time to make it float.
“N-No, ma’am!
It’s a misunderstanding!
A complete misunderstanding!” Ochako scrambled to explain, her voice rising in pure panic.
“I’m just a friend!
A normal friend!
Classmate!
Fighting partner!
We’re… we’re in the same boat, that’s all!
I just noticed Izuku-kun hasn’t been doing well these past few days, so… so I happened to be near the supermarket and stopped by!”
“Yes, yes, I understand, just ‘friends,’ right?” Inko drew out the words and winked.
“Young people these days are so adorable.
Don’t worry, dear, I’m not old-fashioned.
Come in, come in before you catch a cold!”
“M-Ma’am… I really am only…” Ochako wanted to scream, but faced with the enthusiastic mother who was already pulling her inside by the hand, she was completely powerless.
Her flustered face, deep blush, and weak denials only served as “ironclad proof” in Inko’s eyes that her shy son had finally found himself a girlfriend.
“Izuku is upstairs in his room,” Inko pointed toward the stairs, lowering her voice.
“He’s locked himself in since yesterday and hasn’t eaten a thing.
I’m so worried.
Maybe… my words won’t help as much as yours right now.
Could you go check on him for me?”
Looking at the mother’s tearful, pleading eyes, Ochako’s embarrassment vanished at once, replaced by firm determination.
She nodded strongly, hugged the box of sweets, and climbed the wooden stairs.
Standing before Izuku’s door, Ochako took a deep breath and knocked three times.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
“Mom, I already told you I don’t want to eat…” Izuku’s hoarse, exhausted voice floated out.
“I-It’s me, Deku-kun.” Ochako said softly.
Silence fell inside the room.
About two seconds later…
THUD!
CLATTER!
“Wah!”
A chaotic series of noises erupted as if someone had just tumbled out of bed, dragging a cascade of falling objects with him.
Frantic footsteps scrambled across the floor, mixed with the sound of things being shoved hastily into a closet.
The door cracked open.
Izuku appeared with moss-green hair sticking up like a bird’s nest, clothes disheveled, and deep dark circles under his eyes.
His face was bright red.
“U-Uraraka-san?!
W-Why are you here?!
I mean… when did you arrive?
W-Why didn’t you tell me so I could meet you at the station?!” Izuku stammered, his brain clearly overloaded by her sudden appearance.
“I just happened to be nearby,” Ochako held up the box of sweets and gave a gentle smile, even though she was still embarrassed by the “incident” downstairs.
“Can I come in?”
“O-Of course!
P-Please come in!
My room is a little messy…”
Ochako stepped inside.
The room was filled with All Might models, posters, and limited-edition merchandise.
Even though Izuku had frantically cleaned in those ten seconds, a pair of All Might shorts still lay conspicuously in the corner.
Izuku noticed the direction of her gaze; his face went from red to purple as he frantically kicked the shorts under the bed.
“P-Please make yourself comfortable!” He forced a stiff smile and invited Ochako to sit on the floor cushion.
An awkward silence settled.
Ochako placed the sweets on the small table, hands resting on her thighs, occasionally stealing glances at Izuku.
Seeing how haggard her friend had become made her heart ache.
“How long do you plan to lock yourself in here, Deku-kun?” Ochako spoke first, breaking the silence.
Her voice was gentle but serious.
Izuku hung his head, hands tightly clasped on his knees.
“I… I don’t know anymore.” He answered in a tiny voice.
“Everything feels so terrible.
Everything happening outside… it feels like it’s my fault.”
“Your fault?” Ochako frowned.
“How could it possibly be your fault?
You’re the victim!
Are you planning to take responsibility for the things Bakugo did?”
“It’s not like that!” Izuku looked up, eyes brimming.
“I know Kacchan was wrong.
But he’s been completely destroyed, Uraraka-san!
His dream of becoming a hero… all the effort he put in… everything has turned to smoke.
If… if I hadn’t insisted on taking the U.A.
entrance exam… maybe things wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”
“Don’t say something so stupid!”
Ochako’s voice suddenly rose, carrying enough anger to make Izuku flinch.
She leaned forward, grabbed both of his shoulders, and forced him to look straight into her eyes.
“Whether you tried or not, whether you took the exam or not, has nothing to do with Bakugo choosing to bully you!
That was his choice, and he has to pay for it!
Deku-kun, you saved me during the entrance exam!
You faced villains at U.S.J!
You’re standing here because you deserve to be!
Why do you have to feel guilty for someone else’s cruelty?!”
Ochako’s words struck like hammers, shattering the suffocating shell of self-blame Izuku had wrapped around himself.
The warmth of her hands seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt.
Her firm brown eyes reflected his tear-streaked face.
“But… but I…” Izuku choked, the pressure of the past week finally bursting free.
“I even… suspected Onodera-san of leaking the video… even though he’s always believed in me… I’m a terrible person, Uraraka-san…”
Izuku broke down crying.
The sobs he could no longer hold back poured out.
All the pressure, the guilt over doubting Onodera, the pity for Bakugo, and his own pain flooded out like a broken dam.
At the mention of Onodera Ryuga’s name, Ochako’s eyes lowered slightly.
Anyone in Class 1-A could sense the strange atmosphere and quiet intensity surrounding that reserved boy.
But right now, she didn’t want to discuss the rights or wrongs of outsiders.
There was only one thing she knew she needed to do.
“Deku-kun is crying.
And I want to soothe that pain.”
Without a word, Ochako stood up.
She walked to the edge of the bed and sat down on the mattress.
In the dim light of the room, she reached out and gently wrapped her arms around the trembling boy’s back.
Izuku froze.
The light, refreshing scent of sunshine and cherry blossoms from Ochako drifted around his nose.
“Go ahead and cry, Deku-kun,” Ochako whispered beside his ear, her small hand gently stroking his messy green hair.
“You’ve been carrying far too much.
It’s okay to cry a little.
I’m right here.
I’m not going anywhere.”
And so Midoriya Izuku, the successor of All Might, the boy who always forced himself to carry the ideal of heroism cried like a child.
He buried his face in Ochako’s shoulder and let his tears soak her clothes.
Ochako did not push him away.
She simply sat there, arms around him, gently patting his back like the softest lullaby.
Time drifted by.
The ticking of the wall clock became the only sound in the quiet room.
…
Late afternoon gradually settled over the city.
Izuku had cried himself to exhaustion.
His breathing slowly evened out.
Tired, he slid downward, and in the haze of mental depletion, his head simply dropped.
When consciousness faintly returned, Izuku felt something soft and extraordinarily warm beneath his cheek.
The gentle scent of cherry blossoms enveloped him.
With difficulty, he cracked open his heavy eyelids.
The brilliant, glowing light of sunset filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting warm orange-red streaks across the opposite wall.
Tiny dust motes floated in the beam of light, creating a dreamlike, almost magical scene.
And then Izuku realized his current position.
His head… was resting on Uraraka Ochako’s lap.
“Hah?!”
Izuku’s brain immediately short-circuited.
His face flushed as red as a volcano about to erupt, the color spreading from his ears down to his neck.
His heart hammered so violently it felt ready to burst out of his chest.
He wanted to jump up and apologize immediately, but his exhausted body betrayed him, refusing to obey and remaining as still as a log.
Moreover… a hand was gently threading through his hair.
Ochako was looking down at him.
The sunset light streaming through the window painted her short brown hair into a shimmering amber ribbon.
Her large, warm eyes reflected the golden light—clear and deep.
She smiled.
A gentle, kind smile made even more radiant by the sunlight, so beautiful it made Izuku forget to breathe.
“An angel…”
Izuku thought dazedly.
In this moment, under the lens of the brilliant sunset, all the darkness, torment, and pain seemed to be driven away.
In Izuku’s eyes right now, the world contained only the figure of the girl gently sheltering him.
A powerful, unfamiliar flutter rose in his chest – a feeling that went far beyond ordinary friendship.
Yet the deep-rooted inferiority complex of a boy who had once been bullied dragged him back to earth.
“No… I can’t think wild thoughts like that.” Izuku panicked internally, half-closing his eyes to savor a little more of this warmth before facing reality.
“Uraraka-san is an extremely kind person.
She saw me crying so pitifully, so she’s just pitying me.
That’s right, she only sees me as a friend who needs comforting… Someone like me could never be worthy of her liking me…”
Above him, Ochako was also holding her breath.
Her hand trembled slightly as it brushed through Izuku’s soft hair.
Her cheeks burned, flushed no less than the sunset outside.
From this angle, Izuku’s sleeping face looked so peaceful – long lashes resting against his cheeks, lips slightly parted in even breaths.
He was no longer a warrior forcing himself to endure pain, but simply a boy her age – fragile and strangely gentle.
Ochako’s chest rose and fell softly.
She remembered the way he had charged out to save her from the zero-pointer robot.
She remembered his silly yet radiant smile whenever he talked about heroic ideals.
And now, seeing the tears he shed for someone else, she realized her heart had already skipped a beat long ago.
“I… I’ve fallen for Deku-kun.”
Ochako admitted it to herself in the silence.
Her gaze overflowed with unhidden gentleness and affection.
Yet when her fingertip lightly touched Izuku’s cheek, a fleeting sadness passed through her eyes.
“But… Deku-kun is always looking forward.
His eyes are always fixed on greater things, on becoming a hero, on the people he wants to save.
In his heart… I’m surely just a reliable companion.
The way he treats me is the same way he treats Ida-kun or everyone else…””
Ochako exhaled softly, a bitter yet resigned smile appearing on her lips.
Two young hearts, two souls that had begun to beat in the same rhythm of first love.
They were so close they could hear each other’s breathing and feel each other’s warmth under the sunset that dyed the entire room red.
Yet between them stood an invisible wall of shyness and inferiority.
Both Izuku and Ochako were afraid.
They feared that if they took one more step, if they spoke the feelings surging inside them, they would lose this precious friendship forever.