Information;
Yuueii is a fighting academy, training young children to fight in international competitions around the world.
(They use a lot of martial arts- the main ones are Taekwondo and Jiu Jitsu.)
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"Congrats, Bakugou. A scholarship offered by Yuueii, famous fighting school.. It's utterly remarkable."
The teacher, Mr. Kaorashi, a stubby-nosed boring old man, blandly droned on in front of the class.
Katsuki would've gave a haughty smirk- maybe even a taunting look just to fan the bright flames of jealousy his old, extra classmates eyeing him with apprehension because- Bakugou Katsuki, the boy with a snappy and overall delinquent attitude made into Yuueii High. Not only that, he earned his goddamned scholarship fair and fucking square.
It may not seem like it, but Katsuki had fucking struggled tooth and nail to earn his place- studied and got the best grades, straight A's since he was a waddling six year old, and played football for his middle school and became the star player in a span of three years. He was bruised and battered, always used to purple gashes and black splotches on his skin from playing- angry red eyes always challenging anyone to say anything about it.
But the best thing about him was his first degree black belt in Taekwondo, once being the youngest on "S.F.T."'s fighting team, powering through every minor contests like an angry bull, knocking opponents down with a simple high roundhouse kick, no matter what height.
Everyone sang praises to him- "You're amazing, Bakugou!," and those warbled words of- "You're so lucky to have brains and brawn at the same time!". It of course, took him by the shoulders and lifted him up on an imaginary pedestal, higher and better than the others. He was better than others- no, he was the best-!
————
(Pride was one of the Seven Deadly sins, and unfortunately, Bakugou possessed a large amount of it.)
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"Stay in your fucking place, goddamn scum."
Katsuki cruely smirked, a flipped, empty water bottle hanging idly from his calloused hands because of the years he had played football on team AJH Warriors- a boy his age drenched in ice-cold water beneath his feet.
'That's right,' his smirk widened at the feeling of power and pride thrumming rightfully in his veins- 'I'm better than everyone.'
The boy with glasses looked up at him, black school uniform sticking to his thin, irritating body, black-rimmed glasses to match and complete the whole nerdy look.
(It was weird, because Bakugou looked slightly mystified because- no matter how harshly he blinks, he could not see his face.)
Everything else that happened was a blur of harsh grins and manic laughter- the sense of the euphoric feeling of being better than the new first year middle schooler, and suddenly Bakugou was standing in front of the arcade. He had his expensive shoes his father bought him as a prize to getting accepted to Yuueii planted firmly on the dirty ground- and he blinked, because he was so confused.
His lackeys looked at him expectantly, bags hanging from their shoulders with silver coins being tossed in the palm of their hands.
(Their faces were blurred out, as if it was taken from an unfocused camera angle rapidly panning left and right, enough to give him a headache from the unclear images of their expressions.)
"Come on, Bakugou," they'd say to him, grinning from ear to ear- "Let's go in. We'll pay you for your big-ass score on Yuueii."
("-and for your existence in middle Aldera Middle school and making us temporarily popular." But the sentence went unspoken and hung in the air.)
Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to push away the feeling- it was hard to describe.
He suddenly felt distant, and as he clutched the rough texture of the straps on his bag, he can't feel from his fingers. It was weird. He can't feel the concrete under his feet, and he was lightheaded and disoriented-
"Fine, Fine," He concedes, But his voice came out as a painful wheeze which he quickly covered up. "I'll play with you losers."
———
The headache continues, the rest of the arcade being chopped and blurry, as if he were looking through his memories through a car window with flickering lights passing him and disappearing in a rapid pace, causing it to all merge into an irritating buzz in his ears.
(He searched it up, late at night and under his blankets, wanting to know what the hell just happened to him. On what the hell was wrong with him.
His crimson eyes landed on "Disassociation".)
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"Now, get the fuck outta my car, damn brat."
Mitsuki gave a playful shove to her fifteen year old son's back, grinning from ear to ear because she couldn't hide how proud she was.
Imagine- the school with the acceptance rate of 1 out of 300 offered your son a scholarship. Who wouldn't be elated at that?
"Yeah, Yeah, old hag." He rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging on his lips because damn, he could hear the pride in his mother's voice- feeding it directly to his ego. Katsuki heard the roar of his mother's engine in his ears, accompanying the buzz of his nerves- the smell of smoke not distracting him from the thirty foot tall gates, the perimeter extending a mile.
The biggest and main school building sat in the middle, pristine white with the iconic "U.A." Letters merged with each other in a golden glow, reflecting the sun's rays in a magnificent display of genuine power and reign.
Fire burned inside Katsuki at the sight of different extras walking and talking, making their way into the building to continue on with their day.
(And he stepped foot inside, Yuueii badge shining proudly along with his identification card- stomping along the way and not bothering to look around. Why would he? Everyone's faces would fade away eventually.)
————
"Bakugou Katsuki," the teacher mouthed the lines of his name, a finger coming to scratch the messy stubble that littered his chin- black seaweed like hair coming all the way down to his shoulders. His gravely voice came out as a muffled call because of the scarf wrapped around his neck.
Tired eyes roamed the classroom, before landing on the blond- feet perched on the desk, leaning back as if he owned this place.
Aizawa's mouth twitched. He already knows these kinds of students- the kind of kids who probably eat steel and your tears for breakfast, all tough and jock-like. He read it all, from the somber look of the students surrounding him and the winning, prideful smirk he wore in his school I.D. Plastered on his face.
He checks his name off as problem child.
———
"Where is your "prodigy" Toshinori?" Aizawa rolled his shoulders, feeling it tick. Damn, old age was already doing a number on him.
He sunk down in the cushions, flipping file after file- setting aside the (so far) four problem children, thumbing through pages of their medical track records mindlessly.
Yagi sat before him, Jasmine tea in hand as he swished the fluids gently, contemplatively, in his calloused palms. Aizawa raised a thin eyebrow because it was scalding hot. He had a thoughtful, endearing look on his face at the mention of the boy he supposedly "raised" as an uncle.
"He is still making his way back here, since he had left during the start of middle school to America," Toshinori's laugh lines crinkled as a smile slipped in his features. "He's simply taking his time to adjust." Aizawa nodded, observing how Yagi's mood seemed to lighten up, his sickly complexion brightening like a light bulb's switch suddenly flicked.
"Now, you'll get to see him tomorrow. How's the class?"
The topic switched so suddenly that Aizawa almost winced at the inquiring tone. "Iida Tenya, Yaoyaruzo Momo, Bakugou Katsuki, and.. Well, Midoriya Izuku." He listed the names off, irritation bubbling inside of him. He had already singled the four of them out, due to the easy read between the lines.
Iida Tenya, a boy coming from a prestigious middle school (Somei, to be exact.) was the typical teacher's pet- always sticking to the rules and already assuming the position of disciplining students without being told. But because of his tightly wound up personality, he was much more susceptible to being manipulated, he was too much of a follower.
Yaoyarozu Momo, a smart girl coming from a rich family, meek and quiet like a lamb. She was no doubt knowledgeable, but was easily sucked in inside a never ending circle of self-doubt. ('Best to cut loose ends early,' Aizawa decided.)
Bakugou Katsuki- an already present headache he would have to deal with later. The boy was remarkable, with a perfect track record, strong and developed. But of course, his downfall was his amount of pride and ego. A superiority complex that Aizawa has to break down in order to properly teach.
('123 matches, 121 wins, and 2 ties' Aizawa had read on his old middle school record. It was amazing, having no losses and such..)
And of course, Midoriya Izuku.
Well, he hasn't really shown up to class, but the name rings some old, rusty bells in Aizawa's head- only to be confirmed by Toshinori once he recommended the boy for a scholarship.
(Midoriya Izuku, a star student, smart and calculating, his file was almost perfect.)
Aizawa has asked about Izuku again, and Toshinori, the ex master of Taekwondo and "the man, the legend" and founder of the T.F.T. Fighting team (aka- the western blue dragons) happily blabbered about him.
(It was strange, because "cheery green eyes", the way Toshinori described the boy, didn't really match to the cold stare of his I.D. Picture plastered on the file- the toxic green staring directly at it with his head held high and confidently, but his eyes were dead, full of grey.)
Very, very Strange indeed, Aizawa nodded his head before shutting the blue file.
He smirked to himself, wondering what kind of monster had Toshinori made for them.