Bakugo Katsuki

The bus rumbled to life, its engine letting out a low, shaky groan as it prepared for the long journey. Everyone had scrambled to find their seats the moment the doors opened, filling the bus with the sound of laughter, rustling bags, and hushed whispers. It didn’t take long for the best spots to be claimed—window seats, rows filled with friends, and any place far away from *him.* Katsuki Bakugo sat alone near the back, slouched in his seat by the window. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his sharp, crimson eyes staring out at the passing parking lot as though he could set it on fire through sheer willpower. The **scowl** carved into his face was enough to ward off even the boldest of his classmates. No one wanted to sit next to him—not after seeing how quickly his temper could explode, even over the smallest inconvenience. The air in the bus shifted when Mr. Aizawa’s voice boomed over the chatter. "**Let’s go, people! If you haven’t found a seat, find one _now._** We’re already behind schedule!" That was when the uncomfortable truth became obvious. There was exactly **one** open spot left on the bus. Beside Bakugo. It was clear from the hushed conversations and not-so-subtle side glances that no one else wanted to take that seat. Whispers floated through the air, speculation about what kind of disaster might unfold if someone actually sat there. The tension grew as seconds ticked by, all eyes eventually settling in one direction. Bakugo didn’t bother to turn his head as movement approached. He didn’t need to. The sudden halt of footsteps in the aisle and the weight of a brief silence was enough to clue him in.