Unravelled Fates | Bakugo x Reader |

Chapter 10

It was late, and the dorms were quiet, save for the occasional whisper of footsteps down the hallway or the hum of distant voices. Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the faint glow of the city lights through her window. She’d been back from Aizawa’s office for hours, but her mind was still replaying everything that had happened.

She should have hated them—all of them. They were the product of a society that she’d been taught to despise, a world that had hurt her and discarded her. But something about Class 1-A didn’t fit with the image she’d carried for so long.

The image of Bakugo’s furious face still lingered in her mind. His words had cut deep, each one a reminder of the hatred she’d tried to bury, the anger that drove her every step. And yet, as much as she despised him, there was something unsettling about his conviction, his relentless drive to prove himself. He wasn’t what she’d expected from a so-called hero, nor were the others in Class 1-A.

In a way, it frustrated her. She’d come to UA on a mission—to gather intel, to sow chaos, to pave the way for the League’s eventual infiltration. She was supposed to hate these people, to see them as nothing more than obstacles in her path. But each day with them, she found herself questioning that purpose just a little more.

Kirishima’s unwavering kindness, Midoriya’s determination, Todoroki’s quiet strength. None of them seemed like the blind, self-righteous figures that All for One had described, the people who would look down on anyone they deemed weaker or unworthy.

Her thoughts drifted to her brother, Shigaraki. His words echoed in her mind, a dark reminder of the price she’d pay if she failed. She could still feel the weight of his warning, the threat hidden beneath his twisted loyalty. He’d made it clear—failure wasn’t an option. She was a tool for the League, a weapon forged by years of manipulation and control, and she couldn’t afford to let anyone see the cracks forming in her resolve.

And yet… she couldn’t ignore the doubt gnawing at her.

Y/N clenched her fists, her gaze hardening. She couldn’t let herself be distracted. These were heroes-in-training, nothing more. People who would one day become the very thing she despised. The very thing she was here to destroy.

But as much as she tried to convince herself, the memories of her time with them crept into her mind, stubbornly refusing to fade.

---

The next day, as the class filed into the training grounds for their morning exercises, Y/N kept to the edges, her gaze distant as she watched her classmates. She could feel Bakugo’s glare on her, his suspicion a constant reminder of the tension that hung between them. She’d be lying if she said his hostility didn’t bother her, but more than that, it was the way he looked at her—as if he could see through the walls she’d carefully constructed, straight to the parts of herself she’d rather keep hidden.

The session was exhausting, and by the time Aizawa dismissed them, most of the class was ready to collapse. Y/N lingered behind, her gaze focused on the ground as she wrestled with her thoughts. She barely noticed when Kirishima walked up beside her, a grin on his face despite the sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his tone light but sincere. “You seemed kinda out of it today.”

She forced a small smile, masking the turmoil brewing beneath. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

He nodded, leaning against the wall as he gave her a curious look. “About yesterday? That whole thing with Bakugo?”

She shrugged, keeping her expression neutral. “It’s nothing. Just… he has a way of getting under my skin.”

Kirishima laughed, a sound so genuine it almost startled her. “Yeah, he does that. But don’t let it get to you. Bakugo’s got his issues, but he’s not as bad as he seems. Just… intense.”

Y/N gave a noncommittal nod, her gaze drifting away. She wanted to believe him, to see these people as more than just her targets. But every time she started to feel something close to understanding, the memories of her past came rushing back—a harsh reminder of the life she’d led, the lessons All for One had drilled into her.

They’re not your friends. They’ll never understand. You’re different, broken. A tool, a weapon.

Kirishima seemed to sense her hesitation, and his expression softened. “Look, I know you haven’t been here long, but if you ever need anything… well, we’re all in this together, right?”

The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, and for a moment, she found herself wanting to believe him. But she quickly pushed the thought aside, reminding herself of her mission, of the loyalty she owed to the League.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, forcing herself to turn away before her resolve could waver any further.

---

That night, as she prepared her report for the League, her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She’d always been efficient, her reports concise and thorough. But now, as she stared at the screen, the words felt hollow, forced. She was supposed to detail her classmates’ strengths and weaknesses, to find their vulnerabilities, their insecurities.

But all she could think about was the way Kirishima had looked at her, the way he’d treated her like she was more than just a stranger in their midst.

With a frustrated sigh, she forced herself to type, each word feeling heavier than the last. She knew the consequences of hesitating, of letting herself grow attached. Shigaraki’s words echoed in her mind, a reminder of the punishment that awaited her if she failed. He’d made it clear—her loyalty was to the League, to their cause. There was no room for doubt.

But the doubt was there, lurking in the back of her mind, growing stronger with each passing day.

As she finished her report, she sat back, staring at the screen as a bitter sense of unease settled over her. She couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted. These people, this place—it was all just part of her mission. A means to an end.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. That maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to see things differently.

And that terrified her more than anything.