Step Up! [BNHA One-Shots]

1 - Bakugou

Bakugou Katsuki — Boomer

pure banter because i felt like calling him a boomer

Why Endeavour had agreed to let three boys intern at his agency was truly the biggest mystery of the century, not to mention the kind of interns he was hosting: The first being his son, who he was way too sure hated his guts with a passion, then he had a squeaky boy with half a spine; and lastly, a loud brat with one and a half spines to back up that humongous ego. To say he was surprised that the latter had stormed off in the middle of a lecture, while they were all out and about in the city, was far from the truth—if anything, he was surprised that Bakugou had actually stuck to his side for longer than five minutes.

           Bakugou Katsuki was anything but a man of teamwork and cooperation, he preferred to go by his own rules, carry out his own plans; and he just couldn't handle conversation beyond a cheeky "hey" and "bye". So, after listening to a good chunk of information by his Pro Hero guardian of the semester, he'd decided that he needed fresh air; and the air was freshest when Deku wasn't breathing the exact same oxygen five metres away from him. Right now, he was most likely still in the nearby area, but still a good distance apart from the team—head starting to clear, and nerves relaxing. He'd planned to get back to them within the next hour; maybe he'd even say a half-assed "sorry" to Endeavour, though he doubted that the Pro Hero would necessarily care (if anything, the guy cared more about getting on the sunny side of his son).

           However, Bakugou Katsuki was aspiring to become "the greatest hero of all times", and if that wasn't enough to run straight into the direction of a cry for help, then it sure was the tingling feeling between his fingers when the thought of fighting a good batch of villains crossed his thoughts. So, he decided that the best step to becoming a Pro would be to practice early; of course, he wouldn't even consider calling Deku or Endeavour. He could very much handle this himself; that's what he told himself as he ran off into the direction of crime, which was essentially your lovely home.

*

Great. Today was just splendid, you thought as you pulled out the keys to your residence, the sound of clinking metal erupting and, to your soon arriving dismay, getting captured by the ears of, well, wannabe-evil. First, you flunk a test, then a car driver was really a bloody bastard to have you drenched in muddy water, and now—as you're about to leave this shitty day behind you with a good one-hour bath and Netflix marathon—you had a cheap, quirky robber grab you by the waist and restrain your form.

           "Cutie," he cooed, making you want to vomit. "You have a nice looking necklace there," he continued, his hands making their way to your neck and fumbling with the lock. You wanted to kick that son of a b*tch straight in the balls, after all you've been wearing slight heels, so you'd definitely make a point in doing so; but for some reason your feet were glued to the ground? What? How? Staring to the ground, you indeed noted that this guy's quirk must have been oozing glue, or some other sticky fluid whose name or ingredients you didn't exactly desire to be educated on. Upon realising that you were not going anywhere with this, and your quirk wasn't essentially a tool you'd put the most trust into, you subdued your own pride and did the only reasonable thing: You inhaled, and exhaled in the form of the loudest, most annoyed sounding scream for help a hero could ever perceive. And really, the fact that not even a hero had perceived it, but someone who was training to be one just had to be the icing on the cake.

           You tried to wiggle out of the villains grip, refusing to give him access to your necklace, which you held way too dear—and mind you, it was heirloom and expensive, like hell would you let some filthy dude from the gutter have it only to resell it for under its worth. A couple seconds had passed since your call for help, and you wondered if you were heard, or if you'd just really upset karma too much the past weeks. But that was the moment when you "help" arrived, or rather you'd heard it, kind of. The moment another presence closed in on your whereabouts, it announced itself in a loud bang. When your eyes glanced in the direction, you were sure of it: That was literally an explosion.