Sparks Without A Flame

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Bakugo's POV:

With my hands jammed into my pockets, I descended the steps, Kirishima trailing after me like a persistent shadow. "She's just as dim-witted as the rest of them," I muttered to myself, the words tinged with frustration.

"You're only saying that because she wiped the floor with you in sparring today," Kirishima teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

My face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and simmering rage as I spun around to face him, practically bellowing, "SHE DIDN'T BEAT ME! It was pure luck... I just lost my footing!"

"Sure thing, man. But you gotta give credit where it's due, she's seriously skilled," Kirishima conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Tch!" I grunted, storming off alone, enveloped in silence. 'She's a distraction! How am I supposed to focus when every time she touches me, all I can think about is...' My face flushed again, this time not from anger.

***

Plot:

My earliest memories are a collage of scraped knees, fractured bones, and the acrid tang of singed flesh. While my mother tended to my injuries, my father was often the cause of them. "He saw potential in me," he'd boast. But in truth, my father was a dark force in our lives.

My mother understood this, yet remained trapped until one day she summoned the courage to break free, taking me along. We sought refuge in Musutafu, shedding our old identities like a snake sheds its skin. Despite her reservations, she allowed me to enroll in a hero school, under one strict condition:

My true identity must remain hidden at all costs.

***

Author Note: This fanfic is going to be enemies to lovers....shocking I know. I know there is a lot already out there, but I want to try and make a lot of the plot my own with a little bit of the actual mha plot sprinkled in. I want to try and make it as different from other stories as possible. Also, we are gonna be an overpowered MC.

*Warning: Mature content, eventual smut, characters are aged up*