ARMOR [Bakugo Katsuki x reader]

1: hero complex

It didn't come as a shock that it was a free-study class yet again. If you wracked your brain, you couldn't remember the last time Power Loader had provided a class that could be counted as a teaching opportunity. He showed his obvious favoritism towards the ones who provided extraordinary gear for heroes – like Mei and her babies. Mei had always been extraordinary, and you admired her aspiring dream which was highly likely to become true.

Power Loader had favored Mei and Aoi for as long as you had been in the supply department. He had tried to favorise you too, collect you like an item, merely based on your last name. Now that he knew you, and the gear you created, Power Loader didn't care. It wasn't flashy enough, not meant for heroes and it immediately excluded you from the top three in class 3-H. Not that you cared. The less eyes on you, the better.

After finding your seat by one of the working stations, you brought back the items and prototypes you had started on yesterday. The free studies usually benefited the ones who settled for providing mediocre enhanced supply gear for low-ranked heroes. What a dreadful, boring life and aspiration. Most of your class had settled for it, never bothering about trying to go their own paths. None of them had the talent to start on their own either, except for Mei. If Aoi pleaded to his family's trust fund, he could buy himself some genuine talent to start on his own.

It wasn't a life you wanted for yourself; being the bitch of ungrateful heroes who never used the gadgets in the first place.

What most in your class had yet to realize, the more quirks blended by the birth of kids – the stronger the quirks became,and more specialized. Soon, there wouldn't be a need for heroes to have gadgets at all.

Thirty minutes hadn't even passed in class before it knocked on the door. The entire class fell silent as the brooding, dark-haired teacher of class 3-A limped inside. He had gone through his fair share of shit with class 3-A, especially after the war with the League two years ago. His dark eye searched the room, the other eye hidden beneath the eye patch he always wore, and his gaze fell on you. A subtle nod of his head was as much of the pleasantries that you needed.

If it hadn't been for him, you never would have been able to sit in this chair comfortably.

Eraser Head, or Aizawa, kept his hands buried deep into the pockets of his pants and walked like a man who was severely pained from his prosthetic leg. From what you knew, it was your family's supply agency that had provided him with the metal prosthetic leg. As bad as it was, you were glad that it was something your parents had created that was shit. Eraser cleared his throat as he stepped up beside Power Loader, who seemed to be already expecting the heroics teacher.

"As you're all familiar with the Sports Festival – there's been a slight change of rules this year."

Other than the fact that it's only the Hero Course students that are allowed to participate? It was laughable. The hero course got everything they wanted, handed to them on a silver (or gold) platter, depending entirely on who was serving and asking.

When the rules of the Sports Festival changed, most of the class had been groaning and complaining about not being ableto show off their gadgets. You? You had been seething in your seat. The Sports Festival was your only chance to show off that you had been placed in the wrong class. For the one time you had screwed up during the Entrance Exam, and then again during your first Sports Festival – you had been adamant about showing off. It wasn't as if your quirk wasn't a force to be reckoned with.

"The Hero Course students will be allowed to bring with them one new item of choice. They are not allowed to rely on their already existing gear to even the playing field," Aizawa continued, shifting awkwardly to relieve the tension from his prosthetic leg.