Katsuki Bakugo is haunted by dreams of a mysterious girl whose dark allure pulls him deeper into a web of obsession. Unbeknownst to him, the girl is Nanami haruki, a skilled underground villain who thrives on negative emotions and is fixated on him...
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❥ 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅, the rhythm of his breath syncing with the pounding in his chest. The world around him was an endless maze of dark corridors, twisting and shifting like something out of a nightmare. His heart was racing, not with fear, but with frustration.
She was there—just ahead. He could see her, but never clearly. A figure, a girl, her silhouette barely visible in the dim light. Her long hair whipped behind her as she turned a corner, disappearing from sight once again. Every time he got close, she slipped away, as if the very air around her was conspiring to keep them apart.
"Stop running!" Bakugo's voice echoed through the empty halls, harsh and desperate. But she didn't stop. She never stopped.
He pushed harder, explosions crackling in his palms, lighting up the darkness with bursts of orange and yellow. But no matter how fast he ran, how fiercely he chased, she was always one step ahead. The anger welled up inside him, burning hot and uncontrollable. Who the hell was she? Why couldn't he reach her?
Suddenly, the hallway twisted again, narrowing into a single point of light. Bakugo skidded to a halt, breathing heavily as he approached the light. It flickered like a dying flame, casting long shadows across the walls. He stepped closer, his hand outstretched, and just as he was about to touch the light—
He woke up.
The sudden jolt of reality hit him like a punch to the gut. Bakugo shot upright in bed, his heart still racing, beads of sweat clinging to his skin. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, the remnants of the dream clinging to the edges of his mind.
"Shit..." he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face.
It was the same dream. Again. The same girl, the same chase, the same feeling of helplessness gnawing at him from the inside out. He couldn't take it anymore. It was driving him insane.
Bakugo glanced at the clock on his nightstand—5:30 AM. Too early to be awake, but there was no way in hell he was going back to sleep after that. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and stretched, his muscles tense and sore from the restless night.
He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair and headed toward the bathroom, hoping that a shower might shake off the remnants of the dream.
As the hot water cascaded over his skin, Bakugo tried to focus on anything other than the nagging feeling in his chest. He needed to get his mind straight. He couldn't afford to be distracted, especially not now with everything going on at U.A. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of the girl lingered in his mind, like a shadow he couldn't shake.
Who the hell was she?
Bakugo stepped out of the dorms, the early morning chill biting at his skin. He didn't care. Training always helped him clear his head, and right now, he needed to hit something. Hard.
As he walked toward the training grounds, his mind wandered back to the dream. He could still see her—just out of reach. And then there was that light. What the hell did it mean? Was his brain messing with him, or was there something more going on? It wasn't like he was the type to overthink things, but these dreams had been happening too often. Too vivid. Too real.
Halfway to the gym, something caught his eye. A flash of movement in his peripheral vision. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area around him.
For a second, he thought he saw her—the girl from his dream—standing across the courtyard. But when he turned his head to get a better look, there was no one there. Just a group of first-years walking by, chatting excitedly among themselves.
"Tch, losing my damn mind..." Bakugo muttered, shaking his head.
But as he continued toward the gym, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Little things throughout the day started to feel... off. Déjà vu moments that made his skin crawl.
During training, he caught glimpses of her again. In the reflection of a window, out of the corner of his eye, always just barely there, always vanishing when he turned to look. His heart would skip a beat every time, his fists clenching with frustration. It felt like she was teasing him, playing some twisted game of hide-and-seek that only he was aware of.
Later that afternoon, as he walked through the hallways of U.A., a whisper brushed against his ear. It was faint, like a soft breath, but unmistakable. It was her voice. He couldn't make out the words, but the sound sent a shiver down his spine. He spun around, expecting to see someone behind him.
No one. The hallway was empty.
"Damn it!" Bakugo's fist slammed into the nearest wall, leaving a crack in the plaster. He didn't care. This was getting out of hand. First the dreams, now this? Was he going crazy?
He clenched his jaw, trying to steady his breathing. It was just a dream. That's all it was. There was no girl. No shadow chasing him. No voice in his ear.
But as he continued down the hallway, his skin still prickling with that uneasy feeling, he couldn't help but wonder: what if it wasn't just a dream? What if she was real?
