A Chanced First Meeting

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So this story is based loosely on weird dreams I had where I was involved with Bakugou, and it was just so nice seeing that side of him that I had to write about it. Originally, this story came first before I started writing my IzukuxOC fic "Muse," but I could never get it off the ground because I kept trying to cram multiple chapters into a one-shot, so this will be a limited, closed series of one-shots.

Only about fifteen percent of this story is my dream, but the images were so striking that the concept and my character Rem kind of created themselves on my hour long commute to work. I delved so deep into the character and world building of MHA that as a result, I might actually develop this into a thing, but until then, here ya go.

I can remember the first time I met Katsuki Bakugou. It was a chance meeting, to be sure. Normally, my time was spent among children's dreams. They were always something I enjoyed handling. The texture of them always felt malleable and squishy, pure creative fantasies that only existed in their own secret little worlds. Interacting with their dreams was always a highlight of my job. However, one in every five dreams I encountered were teenagers or young adults.

During a night like any other, I was going through my nighttime routine of sorting through the frequencies of dreams that actively connected with my Quirk, my hands sorting through the various bubbles to spot whether my assistance was needed or just to simply pass the time. The membrane surrounding his dream was abrasive, violent, and had a huge veil of pride surrounding it, all the right ingredients for an insecure consciousness. Normally people who had strong emotional defenses in the waking world often had crumbling mental walls in the dream world. It was why I ended up drifting into a lot of dreams from the opposite sex, particularly adolescent boys. Needless to say, I acquired a strong stomach at an early age.

It was where their deepest fears, hopes, and desires existed, anything your subconscious could think up could and will happen. Only those who'd had experience shielding against mental Quirks could deflect my invasion. Casting my arms out, the bubble enlarged until it was a large viewing window for me to spectate.

It wasn't a particularly unusual dream. Stress dreams were a common occurrence for me. It was the way the subconscious tried to process problems gathered from information on a day-to-day process. However, it was the way that it tried to resolve conflicts that sometimes caused problems. This one started off jovial enough at the start with a crowd of people laughing. It took me only a moment to realize that the figures were towering over the dreamer. Exaggerated smiles stretched across each of their faces with malice-filled laughter and whispers echoing in the void as I stood on the outskirts of a hallway, an aperture into the world that was like a pencil-sketched circle.

Judging from the school uniform and location, he had to be in high school and a prestigious school at that. He couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen, but it was hard to tell with the permanent scowl he had etched onto his face. His ash blonde hair, wild and unkempt, hung low over his eyes as he stalked past the board listing various test scores that appeared to stretch endlessly.

"Poor Bakugou."

"No point in trying to become the number one hero if you can't even remain at the top of the class."

"He couldn't even stay in the top fifty. Bakugou? More like Baka-gou."

"SHUT UP!" the boy shouted, wheeling around as the comments continued to hit home. "MIND YOUR OWN GODDAMN BUSINESS!"

"You've only been the best this long because I let you win. You weren't worthy of my fire," remarked another boy, this one with red and white hair and a particularly cold expression. "People feel sorry for you if the school prodigy doesn't live up to expectations. Everyone one expects the son of the number two pro-hero to be great, but you? A nobody from some hack middle school? We're not even in the same league."

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