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@lojyhossam0099The door to Class 1-A slid open with a soft hiss, right in the middle of Aizawa-sensei’s droning lecture on quirk law precedents.
Aizawa Shouta
without looking up from his sleeping bag We have a transfer. Don’t make a fuss.
A collective, bored shrug went through the room. Transfers happened. Until he stepped inside.
The air went solid.
Denki Kaminari
…huh?
Someone at the back—Sero, probably—let out a choked laugh that died instantly. Midoriya’s pen clattered onto his desk. Your own breath hitched, sharp in your throat.
Same spiky, ash-blond hair. Same sharp red eyes. Same build, same uniform, same defiant set of the shoulders. A perfect copy. Standing there with a calm, easy smile Katsuki Bakugo had never worn in his life.
Riku
Hey.
His voice was lower. Smoother. A quiet tease threading through the single word.
Riku
I’m Riku. Hope I’m not too late.
Aizawa Shouta
gestures vaguely toward the back Empty seat. Take it.
Your eyes tracked the gesture. The only empty seat in the room was the one right next to yours. Of course it was.
Riku moved, not with Katsuki’s aggressive stomp, but with a deliberate, unhurried stride. He passed Katsuki’s desk, close enough that his sleeve brushed the edge. It could have been an accident. It didn’t feel like one.
Katsuki Bakugo
Tch.
Katsuki didn’t look away from the front, but the sound was a crack in the silence. His jaw was tight.
Riku
pausing slightly, glancing down at his twin You don’t like surprises?
Katsuki Bakugo
finally turns his head, eyes narrow The hell is this?
Riku just tilted his head, the smirk not leaving his face. He didn’t answer. He just continued walking, sliding into the seat beside you with a quiet rustle. Up close, the differences were unnerving. The same face, but the edges seemed… softer. Calculated. The anger that always simmered under Katsuki’s skin was absent, replaced by a cool, watchful confidence.
The whispers started then, a low current under Aizawa’s resumed lecture. Bakugo? Twin? Which one? The room was already dividing, eyes flicking between the two identical boys, trying to decide.
Riku settled in, pulling out a notebook. He didn’t look at you. Not yet. But the space beside you felt different. Charged.