The next day rolls around, and you're back in class, the humdrum murmur of students filling the air. The atmosphere is deceptively ordinary, but you feel the undercurrent of excitement—a brewing storm beneath the surface. It's Hero Basic Training class, and everyone's eyes light up when the towering figure of All Might strides in, his grin as bright as a supernova.

"Hello there, you little newbies!" he declares, his voice booming with enthusiasm. "Today, we'll have battle training!" The words send a ripple of anticipation through the room, the class erupting into murmurs of awe and nervous excitement.

Your lips curl into a faint smile as you watch the reactions around you. Some students fidget in their seats, their nerves showing through forced bravado, while others—Bakugo, naturally—grin with predatory glee. But your attention is focused elsewhere. Izuku's hand trembles slightly as he adjusts his notebook, a mixture of determination and anxiety etched across his features.

Your gaze lingers on him, longer than you'd intended. He doesn't know it yet, but he's yours to protect, to mold, to keep. Even All Might's unrelenting charisma can't steal your focus. No one—not even this Symbol of Peace—can take Izuku from you. Not that they'd try. After all, you've made it clear to those around you that getting too close to your precious green-haired protégé would be... unwise.

As All Might continues explaining the details of the training exercise, you sit back, a calmness washing over you. Battle training. An opportunity to show them all what you're capable of. An opportunity to keep an even closer eye on him.

This wasn't just a class. It was a proving ground. And you would make sure your mark was undeniable.

The class makes its way to the changing rooms, the air buzzing with anticipation for what lies ahead. You walk calmly alongside the others, your presence commanding attention despite your quiet demeanor. The girls chatter around you, their excitement palpable, and you find yourself pulling your hair back into a sleek ponytail as Mina bounds up to you with her characteristic energy.

"Oh, Y/N!" she chirps, practically bouncing on her heels. "Do you have a hero outfit? I mean, you're not officially registered, but you get what I mean, right?" Her golden eyes sparkle with curiosity, and her grin is infectious.

You tilt your head, a faint smile gracing your lips. "I do," you reply simply, and their attention sharpens. The rest of the girls stop mid-conversation, their eyes turning toward you as curiosity ripples through the group.

Without a word, you reach up to tap the ornate necklace nestled against your collarbone. The pendant gleams, its swirling pattern seeming to come alive under your touch. Instantly, a dark shimmer ripples across your body, starting at your neck and cascading downward. Black scales, glossy and impenetrable, appear in an intricate weave, forming into sleek armor that hugs your figure with a predatory grace.

Your wings unfold from your back in a mesmerizing display, their span wide and glistening as if dusted with stardust. They flutter briefly, casting a faint shadow over the room. A mask forms seamlessly over your face, leaving only your glowing purple eyes visible, their ethereal light cutting through the dim corners of the locker room.

The transformation takes mere moments, but when it's complete, you look nothing short of otherworldly—like a warrior born of legends, draped in the majesty of dragonkind.

"Whoa..." Mina breathes, her eyes as wide as saucers. "You look like...like a dragon queen or something!"

The others nod, their awe palpable, but you don't bask in it. Your expression remains neutral, almost detached, as though such a display is beneath comment.

"This is my armor," you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of something ancient and commanding. "It's more than enough."

Your wings shift slightly as you turn toward the door, the soft rustle of scales filling the silence. You don't wait for further questions, leaving the room with quiet confidence, your heart set on the challenge ahead.

Unseen by you, the girls exchange glances, a mix of admiration, envy, and something far more dangerous flickering in their gazes.

-

The group gathers outside the entrance to Ground Beta, a familiar sight of the city you once entered for the entrance exam. The tall, looming buildings of the training ground are stark against the bright sky, and the air feels heavier with the anticipation of what's to come. All Might stands at the gates, his usual beaming smile spreading across his face as he greets the students. But when his gaze lands on you, his expression shifts, a flicker of something you can't quite place in his eyes.

"Y-Young Y/N!" he stammers, his usually confident voice faltering for the first time. "You... you look good!" His eyes widen, and for a moment, there's a breathless silence. His compliment hangs in the air, awkward yet somehow sincere, but it doesn't go unnoticed by the others.

The boys, particularly, shift uncomfortably, their attention drawn to you all at once. The usual playful chatter among the group falls away, replaced by a heavy silence. You feel the weight of their stares, sharp and piercing. It's almost as if the world has slowed for a moment, each breath between you and the others stretching out in time.

You stand there, unfazed, the armor clinging to your form, accentuating your curves in ways that make the others uneasy, particularly the boys. The scales shimmer faintly in the light, and your wings—while not fully unfurled—curl around you like an elegant display of power. It's impossible for them not to notice.

And yet, despite the shifting tension in the air, you remain calm, almost amused by the sudden attention. The armor, after all, was designed for battle, but it has a side effect you've long since realized: it draws eyes. The curves of the armor fit to your body, and though the boys might try to hide their reactions, you can feel their gazes lingering, and it sends a twinge of satisfaction through you.

You catch Izuku's gaze, his cheeks flushed red as he looks away quickly, his hands clenched at his sides. His nervousness makes something inside you twist—protectiveness, possessiveness—but you don't show it. Instead, you glance back at All Might, who seems to be regaining his composure.

"Alright, everyone," All Might manages, clearing his throat and quickly turning his attention back to the group. "We're here for a battle training session, not to be distracted by armor." But even his words can't quite dispel the tension in the air.

You stand tall, your posture confident and unwavering. "Let's get this started," you murmur, your voice laced with a quiet intensity that causes the others to straighten, unsure of how to respond to the shift in the atmosphere.

As you step forward into the training area, you can feel the eyes of the others still on you, the weight of their curiosity and something else lingering in the space between you. Something that feels far more complicated. You smile inwardly, knowing that the attention will only grow more intense as the day goes on.

And you welcome it.

-

You're assigned to Team D, which means you're pitted against Team A—consisting of Iida and Bakugo. As the teams are split, there's an undeniable tension in the air. You can feel the heavy weight of expectation and the competitive energy from your teammates, but it's especially intense with your opponents, particularly Bakugo. His fiery personality and sharp, aggressive gaze are already locked onto you from across the field.

As your group gathers, you can feel the underlying energy. Iida is serious, always so determined and focused, and his disciplined demeanor contrasts sharply with Bakugo's explosive nature. Despite the challenge ahead, you're calm, letting the cool breeze wash over you as you adjust the black, scale-like armor that still gleams faintly in the daylight.

Uraraka and Izuku stand by you, both practically glowing with optimism. Uraraka, always the cheerleader, raises her fists, her face lighting up with a grin. "Now we definitely will win!" she says, her excitement contagious as she looks at you with a beaming smile.

Izuku, slightly quieter but equally as excited, nods vigorously. "Yeah! With you on our team, we're unstoppable, Y/N!" His enthusiasm is endearing, and you can feel the warmth of his support. You give him a small, reassuring smile—one that's cool but oddly comforting.

Despite the tension building between the two teams, you can't help but notice the way Izuku looks at you. His adoration and admiration shine in his eyes, and there's something about it that makes you feel... powerful. Like you can take on anything and everything—especially when it comes to protecting him.

"Alright, everyone!" All Might's booming voice cuts through the air, and the entire class falls into a tense silence, ready to begin. "This will be an intense training session! Remember, the goal is to either capture the opposing team or to neutralize them in some way. No one is to be harmed seriously, but I expect you all to give your best!"

The match is about to begin, and as you look across the battlefield at Iida and Bakugo, you can already feel your instincts heightening, preparing for what's to come. The others may be excited about the chance to fight alongside you, but you know there's more at stake than just winning.

It's about protecting what's yours.

Bakugo glares in your direction, his eyes seething with anger, but you don't flinch. If anything, you smile, a small, subtle curve of your lips. There's no way you'll lose—no way you'll let anything happen to Izuku. Your team is more than ready, and so are you.

And the battle begins.

-

As you walk down the corridor with Izuku and Uraraka trailing behind you, your senses remain sharp, even if your human form dulls them slightly. Despite that, your instincts never fail you. The moment you hear the familiar, explosive sound of Bakugo's footsteps pounding the floor behind you, your body reacts before your mind does.

You whip around just as Bakugo storms toward you, and without a second thought, your hand shoots out to grab his arm. The moment your fingers close around his wrist, a sharp jolt of energy pulses through your body. It's like you're gripping something alive, full of raw power and heat, but you're quick to react. Your sharp teeth sink into his arm, your mouth opening wide as you bite down, sharp canines digging into his skin.

Bakugo yelps in pain, his body jerking back from your unexpected assault. "What the hell, lizard bastard?!" he snarls, his voice full of anger and confusion. His fiery, volatile personality makes the pain even more intense, and you feel his attempt to yank his arm free from your grip.

But you're stronger than that. You hold on for a few more moments, letting your teeth sink deeper, savoring the control and dominance you have over him. The heat radiating off of his body contrasts sharply with the cold, calculating calm that flows through you.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Bakugo," you murmur coldly, your voice barely above a whisper, though the venom in your tone makes it clear you aren't playing around. You could feel Izuku and Uraraka behind you, no doubt tense, unsure of what to do.

Bakugo's expression twists in fury, but a part of him understands just how easily you could overpower him. He tries again to wrench his arm away, but you tighten your grip, refusing to let him go just yet.

"I'm not a 'bastard,' Bakugo," you hiss, your eyes glowing with a dangerous light. "And you'd be wise to remember that."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you let go, taking a small step back, though you never fully lose that calculating gaze. Your teeth glisten in the dim light of the corridor, a reminder of what you are, and Bakugo, still glaring, pulls his arm to his chest, nursing the wound you left.

Izuku and Uraraka, unsure of how to react, glance between the two of you. Izuku's eyes widen slightly, probably worried about how this confrontation is affecting you both. Uraraka, however, seems to hold her breath, as if she's waiting for Bakugo to explode.

Bakugo's glare doesn't lessen. "You're sick," he mutters under his breath, but you can hear it. You step back toward your team, ready for whatever comes next, fully aware that this is only the beginning of your interaction with him.

"Don't make this personal, Bakugo," you say quietly, your voice soft but sharp. "I'm not the one who decided to walk into my path."

With that, you turn, leading Izuku and Uraraka forward again, leaving Bakugo seething behind you, the tension thick in the air. This wasn't just a confrontation—it was a warning. And you knew Bakugo, with his pride and anger, wouldn't forget it anytime soon.

The game was just beginning.

The tension in the air thickens as you stand, wings unfurling behind you with an ethereal shimmer of purple starlight, a sharp contrast to the coldness that seems to emanate from your every move. The sight is enough to make Izuku freeze for a moment, his wide eyes reflecting both awe and worry. He opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he can say anything.

"Go and get the nuke," you say, your voice cold but laced with an unmistakable edge of command. "I'll hold off the firecracker."

Your words leave little room for argument, but Izuku stifles his nervousness with a reluctant glance at Uraraka, who is watching you closely. Her usual warmth is replaced by a hesitant worry as she shifts on her feet, still unsure of how to handle the situation.

Izuku takes a breath, looking at you with concern. "What? No, we can't just leave you alone here!" His voice is high, full of concern for your safety, but there's a flicker of doubt in his gaze too—perhaps fear for what you might be about to face. He can't fathom the danger you're preparing for, not in the way you do.

You tilt your head slightly, locking eyes with him, and the weight of your gaze is almost suffocating. "Are you doubting my abilities, Izuku?" The words are calm, but the sharpness beneath them cuts through the air like a blade. Your wings rustle behind you, and the shimmering scales of your dragon-like form gleam in the light, the purple starlight casting an otherworldly glow around you.

Izuku's breath catches in his throat, and his hands twitch at his sides. He's about to protest, but you don't give him the chance.

"Go," you repeat, your tone now leaving no room for argument. "I can handle this."

Your confidence sends a quiet ripple through the air, the cold certainty in your words making it clear that any hesitation will only make you more dangerous. Izuku's green eyes widen, and for a moment, he hesitates—uncertain whether to follow your orders or stay behind and keep you from going into danger alone.

But before he can speak, you turn your back on him and face Bakugo, who is still glaring, fists clenched, barely containing his rage.

"Stay out of this, Bakugo," you say, voice sharp and laced with a dark, quiet promise. "This fight's between you and me."

Bakugo snarls, his hands crackling with explosive energy, but there's a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze too. He doesn't know how to approach someone like you, someone who doesn't just fight—they dominate.

You feel Izuku's gaze on your back, but it doesn't falter as you move to put yourself between Bakugo and the others. You're not just a shield for them. You're the storm.

Izuku hesitates for a split second longer, before nodding tightly. Uraraka follows his lead, still unsure, but understanding the necessity of it. Without another word, they turn and head in the direction of the "nuke."

You take a deep breath, and as the wind catches the edges of your wings, you realize how close you are to the precipice. You could crush Bakugo in an instant if you wanted to, but that's not what you're after. This battle is about proving something—not just to him, but to yourself.

Bakugo steps forward, fists crackling with explosive energy, eyes still seething with fury.

"You think you can handle me, lizard?" he sneers, his teeth gritted, but there's that moment of hesitation in his stance.

You smile darkly, your eyes flashing with an eerie, almost predatory gleam.

"Oh, Bakugo," you say, your voice almost a whisper but carrying all the weight of a promise. "I don't think I can handle you. I know I can."

-

In the observation room, the tension is thick as All Might and the others watch the scene unfold. The room is quiet, save for the hum of the monitors and the soft murmur of the teachers exchanging their thoughts. They all focus intently on the screen, eyes trained on you and Bakugo as the two of you square off.

Mina's voice breaks the silence, a bit of uncertainty in her tone. "Is she not going to attack him so violently this time? She was... really intense before."

All Might leans back slightly, his usual boisterous demeanor subdued in the face of your fierce composure. He crosses his arms thoughtfully, watching your every move on the screen. "Not sure, young Ashido," he admits, a furrow forming on his brow. "She's... unpredictable. But there's no doubt she's ruthless. I've seen that much." His voice carries a touch of concern, though it's clear he's trying to keep his emotions in check.

Kirishima, who stands beside them, pumps his fist in the air, his confidence unwavering. "Whatever she does, she'll beat him. I know that," he says, his voice full of determination and belief in your strength. His eyes are alight with an almost fervent pride. The others can see how much he admires you and your abilities, but there's something in his gaze that hints at a bit of envy too.

As the fight continues in the arena, the atmosphere in the observation room becomes more intense. They all know that Bakugo, despite his explosive power, is not facing a typical opponent. You are something else entirely. Ruthless. Controlled. Unpredictable. And they all recognize it.

"You see how she moves?" Aizawa says, his voice as deadpan as ever, but there's a certain sharpness to it. "She's calculating. She knows exactly how to bait him. He's playing right into her hands."

Mic, who had been unusually quiet up until now, grins nervously. "Man, if I were Bakugo, I'd be sweating bullets right now." His usual upbeat nature falters for a brief moment as he watches you stand your ground, your purple wings flaring behind you like an ominous storm. "She's really got a handle on this whole... control thing."

Back in the arena, Bakugo is getting more frustrated by the second, trying to land a hit on you, but every move he makes is met with calculated evasion. Each time he attacks, you counter with a precision that keeps him on edge, unsure of what to expect next.

"She's not just a beast," Kirishima mutters to himself, eyes glued to the screen. "She's a strategist. She's making him think too much."

Mina watches the screen, her usual bright and bubbly demeanor replaced with an anxious tightness in her chest. "I hope... I hope she doesn't push him too far. Bakugo can be... volatile."

All Might remains quiet for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observes the way you toy with Bakugo, just enough to keep him on the edge. Then he sighs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"She'll stop before things get out of hand," he says, more to himself than anyone else. "She knows how to keep control. But she's making him face the truth about his own limits." His tone is soft, almost wistful, as if he's seen something in you that the others have yet to realize fully.

The fight continues, and in the observation room, no one can tear their eyes away from the screen. The tension mounts, and everyone knows that while Bakugo might have the explosive power, it's you who has the ruthless mind.

-

With a powerful surge of strength fueled by your unbridled fury, you propel Bakugo's body violently towards the unyielding wall. His body makes an audible thud as it collides with the concrete surface, sending a shockwave reverberating through the room. The force of the impact is so intense that it causes his head to snap back, smashing his face into the unforgiving barrier. The sickening sound of cartilage snapping and bone crunching fills the air as his nose buckles under the pressure. He lets out a piercing shriek of agony, a stark contrast to his usual arrogant roars, as the pain of the shattered nasal bone overwhelms him.

As he crumples to the ground, his eyes watering and a crimson stream gushing from his nostrils, you observe the gruesome sight with a sadistic satisfaction. "You will certainly regret crossing me," you murmur under your breath, the words carrying a dark promise of the retribution that awaits him. His once proud and defiant posture is now reduced to a huddled mass of suffering, his hands instinctively flying to cover the bloody mess that was once his nose.

The fabric of his hero costume, once gleaming and unblemished, is now marred with the crimson evidence of your dominance. One of the metal cuffs that encircle his wrists hangs limply, the mechanism within it damaged beyond repair. The other cuff remains intact, but the fabric around it is torn and tattered, a stark reminder of the power struggle that has just unfolded. His mask, that symbol of his identity and pride, lies in ruins beside him, the eye-covering portion dislodged and hanging by a thread, revealing the raw fury etched into his features.

Your own visage is a picture of predatory delight. You lick your lips slowly, savoring the metallic tang of the blood that now coats them. The crimson hue stains your teeth and tongue, adding a sinister edge to your smile. The action is almost seductive in its cruelty, a silent taunt that sends a shiver down Bakugo's spine, despite the agony that consumes him.

He glares up at you with a mix of anger and fear, the latter a new and unfamiliar emotion for him. His voice is strained, but the threat is clear as he snarls, "You'll pay for this, you monster. I'll make you regret the day you were born."

The air around you crackles with the tension of unspoken threats and the promise of future battles. Yet, in this moment, you stand victorious, your eyes gleaming with malicious intent as you revel in the sweet taste of victory. The room echoes with his anguished cry, a testament to your unyielding strength and unquenchable thirst for dominance.

With a playful smirk, you lower your gaze to meet his, your eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. You then proceed to cup his cheek firmly in your hand, your fingers digging in almost to the point of discomfort, yet he seems to only find it amusing. "Is that a challenge, my dear little spark?" you inquire, your voice filled with a gentle tease. His attempt at bravado is met with an affectionate squeeze that feels as though it could easily turn into something more intense, a reminder of your strength that is never truly hidden from him. "What do you intend to do, light me up like a firework?" Your laugh is a warm, velvety sound that wraps around the tension in the room, briefly dissolving it.

Leaning in closer, your breath a soft caress against the shell of his ear, you whisper in a tone that is both seductive and slightly threatening, "Now, now, don't go getting any ideas, love. You know better than to play with fire around me." The words are spoken with a hint of a smile, but the underlying seriousness is not lost on him. You draw out the word 'love' like a sweet caress, the intimacy of it a stark contrast to the grip you maintain on his face.

Your proximity is such that you can feel his pulse quicken and his breath hitch as you speak. The warmth of your breath sends shivers down his spine, and the scent of your perfume fills his nostrils, a tantalizing mix of sweetness and danger. "You'll find yourself in the infirmary faster than you can say 'boom' if you try anything even remotely explosive, my darling," you continue in a murmur so low that it's almost a secret shared only between the two of you.

Your thumb brushes against the stubble on his cheek, a feather-light touch that belies the firmness of your hold. The tension in your hand doesn't falter, serving as a gentle, constant reminder of who holds the power in this dance of words and unspoken threats. "Remember, my love," you say with a soft, almost tender, squeeze of his cheek, "you're more of a sparkler than a firecracker. And sparklers are so much easier to snuff out."

You pull away slightly, allowing him to breathe again, but your hand remains steadfast, refusing to let go completely. Your eyes bore into his, a silent challenge that dares him to defy your words. "So go ahead, make your move, but know that I'll be watching." You release him with a final pat, a gesture that is both reassuring and patronizing. The smirk on your face never wavers as you watch him, waiting for his reaction, knowing full well that you have the upper hand. "But if you're not careful," you add, your voice a warning caress, "you might just get burned."