Fifteen

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Bakugou pov

If there's anything to be worried about it certainly isn't that damn nerd. Actually that's the last thing I'd be worried about. Because he's gone, dead, six feet under.

There's not one day where that green haired bastard crosses my mind. So why now? Because of some stupid lookalike the cops dragged out?

I watched the man push the lookalike to cuff him. My heart skipped a beat when I took a look at the clothes he was wearing.

That damn middle school uniform.

I felt the blood drain from my face. My eyes must've been playing tricks on me. That kinda shit happens to people who grief, right? They start seeing the dead.

Was I grieving? Did I even feel a hint of sadness or remorse?

I shook that thought from my head. Of course I couldn't feel guilty, after all, he died by his own hands. Who knew what went through that weirdos head. Nobody even talked to him.

He was an outcast.

All this thinking has me confused. I'd rather forget about it. I mean, we just got attacked by villains.
_

Narration

People in news van's got here before the heroes did. And by the end of it all they had enough interviews to air it on national tv. I'd say that it made quite the headline.

By this time the policemen left for the station. A lengthy process of statements awaited the already exhausted detectives. Piles of endless paperwork.

As for the students they were quickly and safely reunited with parents who were reasonably angry. A few threatened to sue the principal. A mandatory week vacation ensured the school enough time to bump up the security. And secret construction plans were set in motion.

At least everyone turned out okay. Well, except for Aizawa. He's currently in an intensive care unit......

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