At the sandwich shop, Bakugo scowled at the apathetic sandwich maker across the counter. The shreds of brown lettuce and bruised tomatoes gave off a moist stench that fogged the plexiglass smeared with grease-coated fingerprints. Lloyd stood behind him and examined the bits of old onion that littered the stained steel of the lukewarm counter. A few dust-coated plastic tables rested around the perimeter with moisture bubbling on the cool windows looking out into the desolate parking lot.

Bakugo was already done with this whole trip and they had been on the road for only five hours. After screaming at Lloyd, he threw the Canadian into the passenger seat and drove the car further up the road. Entering the forests of the mid-Pacific, the night coated the earth as Bakugo hunched over the steering wheel and sped around every electric vehicle and minivan he could possibly overtake.

He was also cranky from the many hours he had been up. Ever since that morning when he rolled out of bed, he felt like he had received zero sleep the night before. His eyes were lidded in a half daze from the bright light waving above him on a wooden fan that rocked on its hinges on the ceiling.

He slouched with his hands in his pockets as the lady with a green apron placed her hands on her hips and cocked them to the side.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"What'd ya mean 'what do I want?'" Bakugo mocked. "I want a chicken sub."

"We're out of chicken," the lady said.

Bakugo scoffed and slammed his hands down on the counter. "How are you out of chicken?"

"Stop yelling. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lloyd waved at the lady from behind Bakugo's spiked hair. "That's his normal volume."

Bakugo sneered at Lloyd and pointed at a strange heap of meat fermenting next to the dying tomatoes. "What's that, then?"

"That's tuna. You wan't tuna."

"No, I want chicken."

The lady pointed towards the door. "There's a farm about a mile down the road. You bring the chicken, and I'll chop it up for you."

Bakugo bit his lip, attempting to keep the inner rage that broiled in his stomach locked within. Steam began to emulsify from his fists with every spasm of his arm muscles.

"You wise-ass," Bakugo said. "If I don't get my chicken, then I'll-."

"I'll just have the tuna," Lloyd interrupted from behind. He stepped around the seething man and smiled at the lady. "Six inches, please."

The lady raised an eyebrow. "We only have wheat."

"That's fine," Lloyd said. "I like wheat."

"Really? You like it?" She said as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm like the only person here that has it."

"I eat it for the fiber," Lloyd said while stepping right in front of Bakugo blocking him from the counter. "Increases metabolism."

The lady gasped. "Same! And nobody ever believes me when I say that."

"You know what they say about great minds," Lloyd smile while pointing at his head.

"You got that right, Mister Heat Miser," the lady reached into the counter and pulled out a roll of wheat bread. She tapped on her chin and hummed. "You know, I think I actually have some extra chicken in the back. I could heat it up real fast for your friend."

Bakugo's eye twitched. "We're not fr-."

"That would be perfect," Lloyd said. "Thank you."

The lady flashed a grin at Lloyd before shooting a quick glare at Bakugo. Her eyes narrowed as she sashayed into the back room and left them alone.

"What a weirdo," Bakugo said.

"I figured she was just having a bad day," Lloyd turned to face his teacher. "Working alone the day before Christmas Eve."

Bakugo snorted and turned away from Lloyd's bright eyes to examine the shoddy dining area. "I worked all the time on Christmas. These people need to get over it. Feeling sorry for themselves."

Lloyd's smile slipped away as he stood upright like a soldier. "You didn't miss your family?"

"I was a little busy being blown up by random villains around Tokyo," Bakugo strode to the dusty plastic bench in one of the booth's by the door and plunked himself on it. The bench squeaked under his weight as Bakugo rested his arm on the dull surface of the table.

"Family is one of the most important aspects of the season. Without family, I would say most all of us would be lost. No sense of direction. No reason to fulfill our destinies. It must be tough to not have any, so we need to count our blessings that we do have that."

"Yeah, like you're such an expert on any of that," Bakugo said.

"My family is busy around the holidays, too," Lloyd said. "You'd be shocked at the amount of crime that happens around where we live. In fact, my sister broke up this purse forgery ring just the other day."

"Electrifying," Bakugo said in a sarcastic way Lloyd missed.

"Though, I'm sure it can be upsetting not being able to see them much. Being here in America. In a way, we're in the same boat. But that's why it's a good thing we're getting this gift for your son."

Bakugo ticked and looked away from Lloyd towards the cobwebs hiding in the corner of the shop. He didn't want to seem overtly rude to Lloyd, but he remembered not being too fond of the goody two-shoes. He was a natural leader, positive and clear-minded to direct his fellow students on the right path. The complete opposite of what Bakugo thought a hero needed to be.

"Have you…talked to them at all," Lloyd said, breaking through Bakugo's train of thought. "I'm sure they miss you."

"I don't really feel like getting into it with you," Bakugo snapped as he took his arm off the table. The fabric of his sleeve hissed from being pulled off the sticky surface.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm your teacher and I don't even know you."

Bakugo got up and stormed to the front door. He took out his wallet and threw a twenty at Lloyd who caught it fluttering in mid-air. "Forget about the change. I'll warm up the car."

He slapped the glass door open. The bell dinged overhead with Bakugo disappearing around the corner. Lloyd lowered his gaze at the tips of his rose-tinted shoes and demurred in the silence of the shop. He was hoping to get some form of advice from his teacher on his internal dilemma, but he would get nowhere with Bakugo right now.

He gripped the money in his hand and peeked down at his phone. Still no new messages.

Isabel poked her head above the windowsill of the sub shop. She placed the binoculars on her eyes and gasped at the magnified image before her. She beheld a close-up of Bakugo's face munching on his chicken foot-long. The bits of bread flew out of his mouth with the crumbs from the crusted bread dotting the corners of his mouth with saliva spurting out with every chew. She turned her head towards Lloyd and saw the boy talking the day away, his snow white teeth flashing with every word he lectured at his teacher.

"Do you think they know we're here?" Isabel asked with the binoculars pressed to the window.

"If you keep looking like a stalker, they will," Aslovee said from the side of the car Lloyd and Bakugo drove. He bobbed his head around the window and tried to see inside for any clues. "What is that weird device in the center?"

"It's a stick-shift," Isabel said. "1969 Dodge Charger. Four barrel, 330 horsepower engine. Do they not have cars where you're from?"

Aslovee frowned and turned back to the blonde girl spying at the window. "No, they didn't have annoying airheads like you, either."

Isabel put down the binoculars and craned her neck towards the short black-haired teen. "Really? I find that hard to believe. Airheads are universal."

Outside the shop, Isabel had been watching over the two for the past thirty minutes. Aslovee had been far more interested in the different technology this world had to offer. He had perused around the desolate roadside stop. A small sandwich shop sat in front of a run-down motel like a gate defending a mansion in the Beverly Hills. It was a typical locale for central California where lonely truckers lay on hardwood cots and advantageous sex workers hung by the railings scrounging the road for any customers. He found the whole affair of tailing the two members of some boarding school to be insipid; there were so many more interesting facets of this universe to explore.

Isabel stared back at Aslovee as he thought back to the past day. He had been stuck with this hyper and sass-filled girl for the entire time he had been there. Before he could even fathom the idea of superhumans with strange powers, that weird witch lady had ordered him to accompany Isabel across the state to find some secret piece of clothing that would somehow get them back home. It was far too complicated for his tastes, so he saw this whole event as a vacation. Just with a really annoying blonde chick pretending to be a super spy.

With a terse silence between them, Aslovee took out one of the samurai swords from the harness in his back. He gripped the hilt and swiped at the rubber on the tire. The blade sliced through the side wall with a loud gash hissing oxygen out of the leak. Air flowed out like a broken dam leaking water with the tire collapsing and causing the car to rock forward and onto the wheel well of the passenger side door.

Isabel squawked and leapt up from her post by the window. She grabbed Aslovee by the shoulders who held a bored expression on his face. "What are you doing, you weird robot? We're supposed to get them to lead us to the jacket!"

Aslovee raised an eyebrow with the light from the sub shop window caressing the right side of his face. "Calista won't be here till later. She said she couldn't apparate to places she didn't see before in this universe."

Isabel stopped shaking him and released him from her grasp. "Huh? She can't do that weird magic thing here? Then what's the point of that? I mean, if you could just teleport places, wouldn't you want to go to places you've never been. Paris? The vault of the U.S. Treasury? Aren't the-."

Aslovee glanced over the girl's shoulder and saw Bakugo shooting to his feet beside the table. He snatched Lloyd from the table and dragged him towards the front door. Witha light gasp, Aslovee grabbed Isabel and pressed his hand to her mouth. He rushed her over to the brick corner of the shop and crouched down with her in his arms. She struggled for a second, her muffled voice muted by his palm. However, she stopped when the front door chimed open.

"Aw, shit!" Bakugo shouted.

Aslovee saw the angry hero rush out and crouch down at the flat tire. Lloyd stroked his chin and saw his teacher flip out at the inconvenience. Bakugo slammed his hand on the hood of the car and kicked the dead rubber with his boot. A string of curses boomed out in the stuffed night air as a quiet breeze slid through the tussles of his pointy hair.

"Doesn't she have a spare tire or something?" Bakugo ran towards the trunk. He popped it open and scoured the plastic bottom of the vehicle's trunk.

Lloyd's face lit up from the screen of his cell phone. He scrolled through a few different pages with the copper lights of the street shining over his alabaster skin. "It seems like all the garages are closed for the night, and I doubt Moxie has roadside service of any kind," he said.

Bakugo leaned on the hood of the car and buried his head in his hands. A simple trip to buy back his dumb uniform had already turned haywire. Here he was in the middle of California in some strange and empty road stop with this wet blanket of a student pestering him every second. His face grew hot with exasperation as he whiffed the nitroglycerin boiling up in his hands.

"The good news is," Lloyd pointed back at a neon sign blinking behind the sandwich shop on the facade of the motel. "There appears to be no vacancy in the hotel. We can stay the night and then get a tow truck tomorrow."

Bakugo sighed and looked over at Lloyd, ever the optimist. He shook his head and propped himself back upright next to the car. Without another word, he prodded Lloyd in the shoulder and ushered him over to the uninviting fluorescent lights of the motel front office across the asphalt parking lot.

When they disappeared, Aslovee released his grasp on Isabel's mouth and stood back up next to the corner. Isabel grabbed the binoculars hanging from her neck and stepped out in front of the shop. She placed them back up to her eyes and focused on the back of the two people they were tailing.

"We should probably call Calista. Pin her our location so she could get up here. I hope she at least has flying skills or something," Isabel said. She put down her binouclars and turned around to face Aslovee. "What do you think happens when they get the uniform," Isabel asked more to her self than anyone else.

"We take it and go back home, I guess?" Aslovee pulled out a smartphone with a gold-plated back similar to Calista and Isabel's. He pressed a button and unlocked the phone to the main screen. He stared down at the different colored apps and squinted at it to decipher the strange technology.

"But isn't this just crazy," Isabel let out a chuckle. "Superheroes. I mean, I wish I had been placed here instead of where I was. I mean, I'd bring Yurio and the others along, but this seems like a much more fun place than were I'm from. Is there anyone you'd bring over here?"

Aslovee shook his head, his finger still hovering over the different apps on his phone.

Isabel hummed and tilted her head. "Well, I'm sure you had some friends. Some people that liked you. You had a lot of fans, right? From winning that game show of yours."

"It wasn't a game show, shithead," Aslovee mumbled under his breath.

"Well, you didn't win for your manners, that's for sure," Isabel said. "Also, the phone button. That's what you press."

Aslovee fumed at the device in his hands. "What phone button? Aren't I holding a phone right now?"

"No, the app," Isabel said. "The one with the phone shape."

"I don't see it," Aslovee growled out.

"You know what?" Isabel smiled. "Just text her where we are."

"I don't know what that is, either, lady! What is a text?"

The motel room was as suspect and dingy as both of them could imagine.

Bakugo and Lloyd stood with their bags at the precipice of the room. Bakugo flicked the switch for the light which was only a small incandescent lightbulb that swung on a string in the center of the room. It was a simple room with a singular twin-sized cot with only a thin cream-colored blanket splotched with suspicious mocha and lemon tinted stains from God knows what liquid or bodily fluids. The bed itself was crooked with the side away from the front door tilted upward like sinking boats in a typhoon. Rows of cobwebs clouded the corners of the room by the ceiling which had a small drip of water leaking in the corner. The scent of mold and month-old tuna permeated from the bathtub tucked away in the corner which had rings of rust circling the bottom from years of no use. Right next to the bathtub lay a tall mahogany wardrobe warped from water damage and hazed from layers of dust coating it like it was heading out to ski on a mountain.

Lloyd stepped forward with a squish from his shoe stepping on the suspiciously damp carpet. Liquid bubbled up from around his foot with a trace of a human outline pressed into the rug by the base of the cot that lay on the floor with no bedpost surrounding it. Only a straw ottoman sat at the foot of the bed which looked like it would collapse the moment a person breathed on it. Across from that was an old television with rabbit-ear antennas jutting out with sharp edges that could kill a man if he fell on them.

"A very...homely environment to sleep in," Lloyd said. He dropped his bags and pounced onto the bed. His bones rattled at the impact with the bed that was a shard and cold as concrete. Air seeped out of his lungs as he doubled over in pain. He grimaced and forced himself to sit upright on the edge of the bed.

"Nice and firm," Lloyd wedged a smile on his face. "Just how I like it."

Bakugo hissed and slammed the door shut behind him. The lightbulb waved around like a hula dancer in the air with Bakugo traversing underneath it. He crossed to the other side of the bed and sat right next to Lloyd. Both of them with their legs scrunched up to their mid-sections, they looked around at the dirt and grime encrusting the beige walls.

"I've slept in worse places," Bakugo said. "So...I guess we should get to sleep now."

"Oh, right," Lloyd said. "Uh...I can sleep on top of the sheets and you can get in them if you want."

Bakugo blinked and looked over at Lloyd. "Why would I want to get in these sheets?"

"I just thought that you were a little like James. Naturally warm all the time."

"I'm not like that little pipsqueak," Bakugo scoffed. "Also, I'm pretty sure there's dead snakes and shit like that under these sheets. I'd rather stay just like this."

"Okay," Lloyd said. Then, he turned to his side and grabbed a grey brick of a television remote from the nightstand. He pressed a button, and the box television crackled to life with fuzz spitting out static from the speakers. An obscure image of a weatherman pointing at a map of the region cranked in and out of focus.

"What are you doing?" Bakugo said. "Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I like to keep the tv on to sleep in hotel rooms," Lloyd said. "I did it all the time when I travelled with my parents."

"I'm not one of your parents," Bakugo said. "Turn it off."

'But...then I won't be able to sleep," Lloyd faced Bakugo with puppy-dog eyes. They glimmered under the swinging lightbulb and burrowed into Bakugo's soul. "And if I don't sleep, I could die."

"Fine. Fine!" Bakugo said. "Just...keep it down."

Lloyd smiled and flickered through the channels.

"In other news, President Buscemi announced Mandatory Bow Tie Friday for all citizens with the exception of the Virgin Islands-."

Click.

"Have you ever needed anything shipped out soon? Try-."

Click.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Bakugo looked over at the screen. Some dumb-looking teenager with lengthy brown hair and glasses appeared to have his hands touching the screen. A set of black headphones encased his head while he smacked the screen with an uncharacteristic panicked look painted over his face.

"Anyone? Can you please help me? I don't know where I am! I was competing in the Sports Festival, and then I was-."

Click.

Lloyd seemed to be unfazed by the image and shook his head.

"I never did like horror films," Lloyd said. "Especially ones that break the fourth wall."

Click.

"These pretzels are making me thirsty!"

Lloyd immediately bellowed with a piercing laugh. "This is my favorite!"

Bakugo rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

James was in a bad mood, as usual.

The boy stomped up the marble steps in the stairwell. A harsh echo slashed over the white brick walls with his hands sliding over the frigid railing. His eyes small and focused only on the next step, his body warmed with the hot energy the shook within his arms down to the light sparks popping off his contact with the rail. It followed his hands up the well until he made it up to the boy's platform.

Unsurprising, the boy was not a fan of Christmas. He did not hate it, but any event where most everybody pretended to be annoyingly cheerful and happy made hims suspicious. No season that involved snow and death-defying lines at department stores could be that good. He shook his head at the memory of being holed up at Midnight Mass dehydrated waving a fan in his own face. The aroma of lavender incense and that old lady's coconut perfume made hims shiver, and he grunted to stop the memories from waving back at him like an old friend he'd rather not see.

He smacked at a silver sliver of tinsel hanging from the wall. It rained down in a collapsing sparkle and tangled up at the top of his hair. He did not notice as he climbed the final step, dragging the streamer with him.

Opening the door, he let out a harsh sigh and rubbed his eyes. He was at least glad the day was over, but this trip was going to be another annoyance. Bad enough he had to spend Christmas with his idiots for classmates, but it was going to be at some dumb hot spring resort with even more fake cheery people being paid to be happy. However, one saving grace was finally getting out of the school and spending time with Moxie. The girl, for as irritatingly peppy and curious as she was, had a strange fire behind her charcoal eyes that attracted him to no end. She was definitely an odd girl, but one that had motivation to be great.

She was also odd enough to be laying dead center of the room, her limbs sprawled out with her eyes shut.

James felt his heart stop. A large lump grabbed a hold of his throat and squeezed around it like a boa constrictor. His face morphed into a blind panic with goose flesh popping up over his arms. A bucket of ice spilled over his spine which caused him to startle like a frightened newborn.

"Moxie!"

James barked out a terse shout. He ran to Moxie and slid down to his knees over the incapacitated girl. Ignoring the burn of the carpet rubbing on his knees uncovered by his chartreuse basketball shorts, he grabbed Moxie's shoulder and shook her with the ease of a tiny sandbag.

"Moxie," James twisted her face towards his. Her skin, normally tanned from long hours in the sun, was white as the brick walls surrounding them. He grabbed her chin, but her head slumped over like a rag doll. He grabbed the top of her shoulder and felt her forehead. He cringed at the frigid skin before warming up his own hand with his quirk. A light lilac glow emanated from his hands and flashed right above her eyes. James felt her skin warm and gasped when her eyelids fluttered open.

"Wah...James," Moxie said in a weak voice.

"What the hell happened," James said in a louder than necessary voice. He grabbed Moxie and lifted her up over his shoulder. With a heave, he carried the girl over to the couch and plunked her down on the hard cushion. She tried to lift up her arm, but her hands trembled as she felt a vibrating sensation numb her body. Her head lolled as she tried to straighten her posture on the couch.

"It's okay, babe," James stroked her long hair and wrapped an arm around her. "Just relax."

"James," Moxie said. "I'm okay. It's just...I got something to tell you."

"Moxie, who did this to you?" James growled in her ear while she woke up to the loudness that was James. "Was it Drake? Katsu? That weirdo has been on my case ever since we got here. I bet that Shoto guy taught him about sabotaging his competition, and he tried to take you out for the Sports' Festival."

"James-."

"Or it was Blake," James slammed his fist on the seat cushion right next to Moxie's knee. "That dummy is a serial killer in the making. And the way he tried to use his quirk on me was a warning that he was going to take me out!"

"James, I-."

Then, James gasped when a light bulb flickered on above his head. He pointed at Moxie with a deadly sneer on his face. "It was Lloyd, wasn't it? That dumb Canadian has had it out for me since day one. I bet he snuck back here after trashing your car to assassinate you!"

"James, hush up!" Moxie spoke in a suddenly vociferous tone.

The black-haired boy, taken aback, stared at Moxie before he sat on his knees on the sofa next to her. He had never heard Moxie raise her voice at anybody, let alone him. He saw the sudden resolve in her eyes, a strange and powerful glint that he had become so surprised and proud of directed right at him. He sat back on the armrest with Moxie twisting her body around to face him.

"James, what do you remember about yesterday?" Moxie asked.

James blinked and scratched at his neck. "Huh? We went to class."

"Ya think that," Moxie said. "But do you remember anything?"

James stopped for a second and peered right into Moxie's eyes. "I don't think about class after it ends. It's not like Mister Bakugo has taught us much the past semester."

"Okay, how about the Sports Festival?"

"What about the Festival?"

"What do you remember?"

"Well, obviously, I...I..."

As James fell into silence, the door opened. Drake came inside with a deep red workout shirt drenched in sweat around the neck. His vinyl black sweatpants squeaked when he strode into the room and saw the couple on the couch together. Behind him, Martel strode in babbling some science mumbo jumbo while he held a beaker with some strange orange liquid. They both stopped in the door frame and took a step backwards.

"It appears we are interrupting the procreation of life," Martel said.

"Oh, sorry," Drake blushed. We'll come back a-."

"No, Drake, we weren't doing nothing like that. It's just...you two need to come over here," Moxie said as s. "I gotta tell y'all something."

A foot smacked into Bakugo's leg, causing the hero to cry out in pain with another finger jabbing into his eye.

It was hour four of trying to sleep next to Lloyd, and it was pure torture. The light of the television blared at his face with the sounds of old sitcom laugh tracks running a chainsaw through his brain. No to mention, Lloyd was an extremely violent sleeper with a kick and punch flying at Bakugo's abdomen or phase every two minutes. The sound of the television, however, paled in comparison to Lloyd himself. Lloyd's snores shook Bakugo as the sound waves rocked the foundation of the bed. A popping sensation erupted in his ear as his eardrums quivered from the destructive volume of the snoring.

Lloyd's arm, in a fit of sleep tossing, flung itself onto Bakugo's shoulder. His hand thunked Bakugo on the side of his face. The teacher grunted in pain and shot a nasty look above his shoulder. He was responded to with another deep snore. Bakugo shrugged the arm away and curled himself up into a little ball right on the edge of the bed. For as prom and proper as Lloyd normally was, he slept like a hobo.

The television blinked bright light that assaulted Bakugo's eyelids. Every time he felt himself dozing off, the screen flashed an ivory glare that illuminated the entire dingy motel room. Right now, the black-and-white images of commercials lingered over the static screen.

"Get dinner yourself, Ralph!"

"One of these days, Alice!" A voice on the television said.

The cacophony of studio laughter.

Then, one more jab in the eye. This time, somehow, it was Lloyd's big toe.

"Ah! I can't take it anymore!" Bakugo shouted. He rolled himself off the bed and ran towards the light switch. He flicked it on and illuminated the room to reveal Lloyd sprawled over the bed like a dehydrated octopus.

"Wake up!" Bakugo screamed.

Lloyd yelped like a puppy whose tail was smashed by a boot. He flipped over and fell over to the side. The thin brown sheet wrapped around him like a cocoon while he plummeted onto the hardwood floor. A harsh thump jostled the glass lamp on the nightstand and made the mirror hanging on the wall swing in displacement. When he regained his balance, he shot up to his feet. The sheet covered his whole body which pinned his arms to his side. His face poked out of a small hole in the thin silk fabric when Bakugo grabbed a pillow and threw it onto the floor in anger.

"What happened, Mister Bakugo?" Lloyd asked with innocence.

"Don't you play dumb with me," Bakugo shouted. "You're what happened. You invite me on this road trip, you almost get me killed, you annoy me and now you try to interrupt me from getting sleep?"

"Excuse you," Lloyd dropped the covers around him and stood up by the bed. "I offered to help you get to San Francisco to help your child have a good Christmas present."

"I didn't need your help. I could've bought a plane ticket or something."

"Why didn't you?"

"I-I dunno," Bakugo kicked the dresser. "But it would've been better than being stuck with you the whole time. You and your singing that shitty rock music."

"You watch what you say about Rush," Lloyd said. "They are a national treasure."

"Yeah, and your country has given us what since then?" Bakugo shouted. "Justin Bieber and fake bacon? And it's not just that. It's how you;re just so goddamn happy and nice to everyone all the time. How you talk everyone's ear off and lecture everyone about being such a goody two-shoes all the time. Drivel about Jesus and the Saints and all the Prophets. Yeah, yeah, God is good, huh? Geez, you're almost as bad as that Blake idiot! And," Bakugo pointed at the television playing its show. "You've subjected me to hours of shitty sitcoms."

"They are hilarious works of human comedy," Lloyd said. "It's not my fault you weren't raised on them. And besides, who drove you halfway up here? And who told you to get a room? I even offered to pay out of the goodness of my dumb heart. What's wrong with caring about other people? Isn't that the point of being a hero?"

"Yeah, and it's also about minding your own stupid business," Bakugo said. "Maybe if you stopped acting like a saint all the time, you'd learn how things operate in the real world."

Lloyd stepped out from behind the bed to stand in front of Bakugo uninhibited by any furniture. "I just want people to care and think about the Christmas season. What's wrong with that?"

"Because I don't care about Christmas," Bakugo yelled and shook his fist at Lloyd. "I never did. It's some bullshit experiment to suck people's money out of their wallet. You think people actually think about Jesus or the Wise Guys or some dumb manger? And, for the record, you don't even care about that. It's just garbage your parents said so you regurgitate them."

"You take that back," Lloyd shouted. Bakugo paused and stepped back from the sudden outburst. His eyes widened at the sudden fury that emanated from Lloyd's eyes. "This is something all my own. Something I thought for myself.

Bakugo, enjoying the sight at the prim and proper Class President growing angry, scoffed and flashed a mirthless smirk. "Please. In a few years, you won't even remember thinking about it."

"I will," Lloyd shouted with his hand squeezing around the pole of the ottoman in front of the bed. "And maybe you would be a more reputable hero like Deku if you cared more!"

"Oh, I'm not reputable?" Bakugo placed his hand on his chest in mock shock. "Hah! Because I don't care about Christmas? Well, guess what? I don't care. I don't care about Christmas. I don't care about Jesus. I don't care about this stupid school or this stupid class. And guess what, you righteous red-head? I don't care about you!"

With that, Lloyd snapped.

The straw ottoman popped into a black cloud of dust, swirling around where the box had been before. He pulled back the cloud and molded it into his hand before thrusting it right over to where Bakugo stood. His mind bore no idea of any consequences, nor did he care that this was a teacher of his. All he felt in his heart was anger and a need to enact just pain on the person that transgressed him.

The cloud of dust flew forward, collapsing into a dense bolt that pointed forward like a harpoon.

Bakugo ignited the beads of sweat in his hands and reached up to swat away the dust.

The room erupted into flashes of light and dark as the fight commenced.

As always make sure you review and let me know what you think!

Thank you. See you soon!