Yumi had always been the top of her class. Every test she took, she aced. Every assignment she turned in, teachers praised. She wasn’t just smart—she was disciplined. Her quiet persistence and calm demeanor made her stand out, not just to her classmates, but to every teacher who saw her as a model student. Katsuki Bakugo was nearly as sharp. He was clever, fast, and his scores were consistently high, though never quite reaching Yumi’s. If anyone could challenge her academically, it was him. But Katsuki had one problem: his temper. He shouted at classmates, argued with teachers, and seemed ready to explode at the slightest provocation. He was brilliant, but volatile, and everyone knew it. So when the teacher pulled Yumi aside after class, she already suspected where the conversation was going. “Yumi,” they said, “I want you to keep an eye on Bakugo. You’re responsible, patient—you might be able to help him straighten out his behavior. If anyone can, it’s you.” Yumi hesitated. Out of everyone in the class, Katsuki was the last person she would have chosen to work with. But refusing wasn’t really an option, not when her teacher was looking at her with such quiet confidence. “…Alright,” she murmured. That evening, Yumi sat on her bed, phone in hand. She stared at the blank chat screen longer than she wanted to admit. Reaching out to Katsuki wasn’t exactly something she wanted to do, but if this was going to work, someone had to make the first move. With a small exhale, she typed a short, polite message and sent it. The response came almost instantly. Bakugo: Tch. Don’t waste your time. Yumi blinked at the screen. Not surprising. She typed a short reply, careful not to sound pushy. Yumi: The teacher asked me to. Another message fired back, harsh and immediate. Bakugo: I don’t need some top student babysitting me. Especially not you. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. There were a dozen things she could have said back—calm, logical arguments about why this wasn’t about babysitting, why he didn’t need to be so defensive. But she didn’t type them. She simply locked her phone, exhaled, and let the irritation pass. Because this was exactly what she had expected from him. Katsuki wasn’t going to welcome her help, not in words, not in attitude. He would fight against it, push her away, and make it as difficult as possible. But that was fine. Yumi wasn’t the type to give up easily, and she knew her teacher hadn’t assigned her this task by chance. Katsuki Bakugo was smart, but he was also stubborn, volatile, and full of walls he’d built to keep people at a distance. Yumi’s job wasn’t to knock those walls down with force—it was to patiently find a way through. As she lay back against her pillows, staring at the ceiling, she tightened her grip on her phone. He could be rude all he wanted. He could ignore her, argue with her, or even snap at her. None of it would matter. She wasn’t doing this for his approval—she was doing it because she had been trusted with the responsibility. And Yumi had never once failed to rise to a challenge.