Sav decided to throw us a goddamn curveball today. So strap in, because this one's a doozy.

It started like any other Tuesday at U.A. Class 1-A was sprawled across the common room, pretending to study but really just wasting time before dinner. Kirishima was arm-wrestling Kaminari. Mina was doing Sero's eyeliner. And Bakugou—present-day, perpetually pissed-off Bakugou—was on the couch, feet up, ignoring everyone like it was his goddamn job.

Then the air ripped open.

Not like a door. Like a tear. A jagged, crackling wound in the middle of the common room, spitting sparks and heat. Everyone froze.

Out of it stumbled a man. Broad shoulders, sweat-slicked ash-blond hair, hero suit torn at the sleeve. He was breathing hard, eyes wild, scanning the room like he'd just fought through hell itself.

And the future Bakugou—this scarred, battle-worn pro hero—locked eyes with you and broke.

He crossed the room in three strides, yanked you off the couch, and crushed you against his chest. His arms wrapped around you like you were the only solid thing left in the universe.

Present-day Bakugou was on his feet now, face pale, fists clenched so hard his knuckles cracked.