It wasn't like Katsuki to be nervous. He hated that feeling, the itch in his stomach that made him uncomfortable. It felt like a zip or zap. He was unfamiliar with the word, but that's how he would describe it. He passed UA's exam exactly as he thought; he would obviously score first place. He was Katsuki Bakugo no one was better than him would be first. He will transform himself into the greatest hero ever. He'll be the even better and more fabulous version of All Might. That's how it should be. But UA isn't what he expected it to be.

The gates were full of students, like a flood of gray uniforms, exiting to begin their new year. There were many smiles and gleefulness, except for Katsuki. He had a scornful look, his eyes relaxed, and he stood tall and proud as he passed through the gates.

Katsuki couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in his gut as he strode through the gates of UA. He'd never been one to doubt himself—confidence was practically his defining trait. But there was something about this place, something that made him feel uneasy.

UA was supposed to be the pinnacle of hero training, the place where the best of the best honed their skills. Katsuki had always envisioned himself at the top, surpassing everyone, just as he always had. But the reality of it was different. The sea of students around him, all clad in the same gray uniforms, represented not the competition but a flock of sheep. How many of them thought they would be a hero? Look at them, envy hidden under their smiles, jealous of people like Katsuki because they were on top.

He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar warmth of his quirk simmering just below the surface. There was no reason to be nervous. He'd aced the entrance exam, proving to everyone—especially himself—that he was the best. But as he walked through the crowd, the confidence that usually fueled him felt like it was slipping away, replaced by something he didn't want to acknowledge: doubt.

Katsuki forced himself to focus, to push away the uncomfortable feeling gnawing at him. He'd worked too hard to get here, and there was no way he would let anyone—or anything—distract him from his goal. He would be the best, just like he'd always planned.

But then his thoughts drifted to Izuku. That damn Deku. He hadn't seen him in a while, not since the rumors started swirling about his transfer to UA. Katsuki still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Izuku had been admitted without even taking the exam. It made his blood boil to think that someone so weak, so unworthy in his eyes, could be allowed into the same school as him.

There was something about how Izuku carried himself now, something different that Katsuki couldn't quite place. He hated it. He hated the idea that Deku could even think about trying to compete with him. UA would be his domain. He would make sure everyone knew that, including that quirkless nobody. He would have to give him a reality check, a show once and for all. To show who should be on top.

The crowds began to thin as students found their way to their respective classrooms, but Katsuki kept his pace steady, not wanting to seem rushed. He wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him flustered or out of sorts. Not now, not ever.

As he neared the main building, Katsuki's thoughts sharpened, honing in on what was ahead. The day would be filled with introductions and maybe some testing, but nothing he couldn't handle. He was here to prove himself, and nothing would stand in his way—not the other students, not the teachers, and definitely not Deku.

Katsuki stood before Class 1-A's door, his hand hovering just above the handle. The door was massive, almost intimidating, but Katsuki wasn't the type to be daunted by something as trivial as a door. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and opened it. He half expected the room to be empty, but he saw a dark blue-haired student sitting diligently, his back straighter than a ruler, facing toward the front of the class as he patiently waited for class to begin. Katsuki didn't like him. He hated how his glasses sat on him. He looked too clean, too eager, too much like a good student.

Katsuki's lips curled into a sneer as he took in the sight of the blue-haired student. The kid was the very embodiment of everything Katsuki despised—overly disciplined, probably a know-it-all, and likely one of those types who'd suck up to the teachers at every opportunity. The kind who thought they could coast through life on rules and order alone. Katsuki hated those types.

He slammed the door behind him, ensuring it rattled loudly enough to draw the other student's attention. The boy turned around sharply, his movements precise, and offered a polite nod. Katsuki could already tell that the kid was sizing him up, probably comparing him to some standard of 'proper' behavior that Katsuki couldn't care less about.

"Morning," the blue-haired boy said, his tone formal and clipped. "You must be another member of Class 1-A. Iida Tenya," he added, introducing himself as if Katsuki would care.

Katsuki's eyes narrowed, the sneer never leaving his face. "Bakugo Katsuki," he replied, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice. He didn't offer a handshake or try to engage beyond the bare minimum. He wasn't here to make friends, least of all with someone like this.

Iida didn't seem fazed by the cold reception. If anything, he appeared more intrigued, his gaze flicking over Katsuki as if trying to place him. "Ah, Bakugo-san, you were the top scorer in the entrance exam, correct? I've heard about your impressive performance. Truly remarkable."

Katsuki's sneer deepened. The compliment was laced with a kind of smugness that rubbed him the wrong way, as if Iida was trying to establish some sort of hierarchy right from the start. "Yeah, that's right," Katsuki shot back, his voice low and dangerous. "And don't you forget it."

Iida, to his credit, didn't rise to the bait. He simply nodded again, as if acknowledging a fact that was already established. "Of course. It's important to recognize the strengths of our peers. We'll all be working together to become heroes, after all."

Katsuki scoffed. "Don't lump me in with the rest of you extras. I'm not here to 'work together' or any of that crap. I'm here to be the best, and I don't need anyone's help to do it."

Iida frowned slightly at Katsuki's words, clearly disapproving of his attitude, but he didn't press the issue. "Well, I hope you'll reconsider that mindset. Cooperation is essential in hero work. But I suppose we'll see how things develop."

Katsuki didn't bother responding. He stalked over to a seat near the back of the classroom, dropping his bag and legs on the desk with a heavy thud. The conversation was over as far as he was concerned. He'd made it clear where he stood, and that was that. He wouldn't waste his time pretending to be something he wasn't.

As Katsuki settled into his seat, he couldn't help but let his eyes roam around the room, taking in the faces of the other students who were trickling in. Most of them looked excited, eager even, as they found their seats and exchanged introductions. It annoyed him. They all seemed so... naive. Did they really think being here meant they had what it took to be heroes?

He spotted a girl with short brown hair chatting energetically with another student, her bright smile practically lighting up the room. Katsuki rolled his eyes. She had that annoying, bubbly energy that was bound to get on his nerves sooner or later. Probably the type who'd try to be friends with everyone, thinking that being nice was all it took to succeed.

Another boy walked in, looking half-asleep and completely disinterested in the whole situation. Katsuki recognized him from the exam—the one with the messy hair who barely seemed to be trying. Lazy, Katsuki thought. He'd be easy to beat.

But as the minutes ticked by, Katsuki's irritation grew. He was getting impatient, waiting for the one person who hadn't shown up yet. Deku. That quirkless nobody who somehow managed to worm his way into UA. Katsuki was itching for a confrontation, a chance to put Deku in his place once and for all.

The door creaked open again, and Katsuki's eyes snapped to it, ready to see Izuku walk in. But it was just another student, a tall girl with long black hair who carried herself with an air of quiet confidence. Katsuki barely spared her a glance, his focus already shifting back to the door. Where the hell was Deku?

More students filed in, filling up the seats around the room, and Katsuki's scowl deepened with each passing second. He counted the number of students in the room, nineteen, there were supposed to be only twenty student in each class. At this point, Katsuki was beginning to think the rumors were fake. Then, the door opened once more. But it still wasn't Izuku. It was the number 2 scorer, Minato Namikaze: blonde hair, blues, a creaking ugly grin, and someone who Katsuki instantly considers a rival.

The one who had come closest to matching him in both speed and power. Even now, as Minato took his seat without a word, Katsuki could feel the quiet intensity radiating from him.

Katsuki's scowl deepened. He didn't like the way Minato carried himself, as if everything was under control as if he had nothing to prove. That calm, collected demeanor grated on Katsuki's nerves. He was used to being the best, the one everyone else looked up to or feared. But Minato... he was different. He didn't seem to care about standing out, yet he did effortlessly.

Minato glanced in Katsuki's direction, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. There was no hostility in Minato's gaze, just a calm acknowledgment that only infuriated Katsuki more. It was like Minato didn't see him as a threat—or worse, as someone not worth competing against.

Katsuki turned away with a grunt, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. He could feel the eyes of the other students on him, no doubt wondering what the interaction between the top two scorers meant. But Katsuki didn't care what they thought. He only cared about proving that he was better, stronger, and more deserving of the top spot. And if that meant taking down Minato Namikaze in the process, then so be it.

As the clock ticked closer to the start of class, Katsuki's patience wore thinner. Where the hell was Deku? Was he really not going to show up after all? The idea that Izuku might have chickened out crossed Katsuki's mind, and he couldn't decide whether that would annoy him more or less than having to deal with him here at UA.

The door creaked open one final time, and this time, Katsuki's eyes narrowed as he finally saw him. Izuku walked in, his face set in that same determined expression Katsuki had come to associate with him. But just like before, there was something different, something that made Katsuki's anger flare up all over again.

Izuku's eyes were sharp and focused as he surveyed the room. He didn't flinch when he noticed Katsuki glaring at him. Instead, he just gave a slight nod as if acknowledging his presence without any fear or hesitation. It was infuriating.

Izuku didn't say a word as he found an empty seat near the middle of the classroom. Katsuki's gaze followed him the entire way, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He was waiting, waiting for Izuku to say something, to acknowledge him, to show any sign that he was still the same weakling Katsuki had always known.

But Izuku just sat down, his expression unreadable. He didn't even glance back at Katsuki, and that was what finally pushed him over the edge.

Katsuki pushed himself up from his seat, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he stormed over to Izuku's desk. The classroom fell silent, everyone's eyes on them as Katsuki stopped just short of Izuku, his glare burning with barely contained fury.

"Sit down, kid," Katsuki halted as a muffled, deep voice echoed through the room. Both Katsuki and Deku glanced toward the front of the classroom at what Katsuki described as a long, yellow caterpillar. The entire class glared, glued onto the thing that was slumped against the wall. There was a zipper on one of its ends, that zipped itself open, showing a face. An old man, long black hair, giant bags under his eyes, with a stubble growing around his jaw and chin. Who was he to order him around?

The man brought an apple sauce packet out and sucked dry, "You're all too loud."

Katsuki froze mid-step, his fury momentarily replaced by confusion as he stared at the strange man slumped against the wall. The guy looked like he'd just rolled out of bed and couldn't care less about anything happening around him. His long, unkempt hair and tired eyes didn't exactly scream authority, but something about him made Katsuki hesitate. The whole room had gone quiet, every student staring at the man with curiosity and confusion.

The man let out a slow, almost bored sigh as he tossed the empty apple sauce packet into the trash. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before finally standing up straight, his eyes scanning the room lazily. "Name's Aizawa Shouta," he said in that same deep voice. "I'm your homeroom teacher."

Homeroom teacher? Katsuki's mind raced to catch up. This disheveled, half-asleep guy was going to be teaching them? What kind of school was UA running here? But before Katsuki could voice any of his thoughts, Aizawa continued.

"Bakugo, was it?" Aizawa said, his eyes locking onto Katsuki's with a level of intensity that didn't match his appearance. "Take a seat. You'll have plenty of time to prove yourself later."

Katsuki's jaw tightened, his hands still clenched into fists. He hated being told what to do, especially by someone who looked like they couldn't care less about what was happening. But there was something in Aizawa's gaze that made him pause. It wasn't a challenge—it was more like a warning that said, "Don't test me."

With a grunt of frustration, Katsuki turned on his heel and stomped back to his seat, his mind still buzzing with anger. He wasn't done with Deku, not by a long shot. But for now, he'd play along. Aizawa might be their teacher, but Katsuki would show him who the real top dog was, just like he'd show everyone else.

As Katsuki dropped back into his seat, Aizawa seemed to lose interest in him immediately, returning his attention to the rest of the class. "Alright, listen up," Aizawa said, his voice still carrying that same flat tone. "This isn't your typical high school, and I'm not your typical teacher. You're here to become heroes, and that means you're going to be pushed harder than you ever have before. If you can't keep up, you'll be left behind. Simple as that."

The room was deathly silent as Aizawa's words hung in the air. Katsuki could feel the tension building, a mix of excitement and anxiety radiating from the other students. He wasn't the only one feeling the pressure of being at UA, but he was determined to be the one who thrived under it.

"You're all here because you've got potential," Aizawa continued, his gaze sweeping over the room. "But potential means nothing if you don't put in the work. So, we're going to start things off with a little test."

A test? Katsuki's interest was piqued. Finally, he had a chance to prove himself, to show everyone exactly why he was number one. He leaned forward slightly, eager to hear more.

Aizawa reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote, pressing a button that caused the classroom's walls to shift and slide, revealing a large screen at the front. The screen lit up with the words "Quirk Assessment Test."

"We're going to head outside," Aizawa said, facing the door. "Get changed into your gym uniforms and meet me on the field in ten minutes. We're going to see what you're really made of."

The room erupted into motion as the students hurried to follow Aizawa's instructions. Katsuki stood up with a newfound sense of determination. This was it. This was his chance to show everyone, especially Deku and that smug Minato Namikaze, just how far ahead of them he really was.

He caught a glimpse of Izuku out of the corner of his eye as they all headed toward the locker rooms. Izuku's expression was calm, but why? He's quirkless, how can a Deku like can compete in a test that required him to have a quirk? It didn't matter. He would crush Deku in this test, just like he'd always done, and prove once and for all who was the superior one.

Ten minutes later, the class was assembled on the field, and each student was dressed in their UA gym uniforms. The air was thick with anticipation as they lined up, Aizawa standing before them with the same disinterested expression he'd had in the classroom.

"We'll be testing your physical abilities and your quirk control," Aizawa explained, his voice carrying across the field. "There's no point in being a hero if you can't control your own power. We'll start with a basic fitness test, then move on to more quirk-specific challenges. Remember, this isn't just about raw power—it's about how well you can use your quirk in a controlled, effective way."

Katsuki's eyes narrowed. He was ready. His quirk, Explosion, was made for this kind of test. Raw power, speed, and precision—he had it all. He glanced over at Minato, who stood calmly in the lineup, his expression unreadable. Then his gaze shifted to Izuku, who stood like a statue.

"Oh yeah," Aizawa spoke, "Midoriya, you're exempt from this test."

Katsuki's eyes widened in shock, and his blood boiled instantly. Exempt? Deku was exempt from the test? How could that even be possible? It was as if the universe itself was conspiring to deny him the satisfaction of crushing Izuku beneath his heel, of proving once and for all that Deku was nothing compared to him.

His fists clenched so tightly that the familiar warmth of his quirk flared, small pops and crackles of energy escaping his palms. He was ready to explode—literally. How could Aizawa just let Deku off the hook like that? It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and it made Katsuki's anger simmer dangerously close to the surface.

Izuku, however, remained calm. He didn't look relieved or smug, just... resolute. It was infuriating. Katsuki couldn't stand that expression on his face—like he knew something Katsuki didn't like and wasn't afraid of him. Like he had already accepted his fate, whatever it might be.

Katsuki took a step forward, unable to hold back any longer. "Oi, what the hell? Why is Deku exempt? He should have to prove himself like the rest of us!"

Aizawa didn't even bother to turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the rest of the class as he spoke. "Midoriya's circumstances are... different, Bakugou. I make the decisions here, not you."

It wasn't just Bakugou. There was a mix of confusion and surprise among the entire class. Katsuki's teeth ground together in frustration, his mind racing to make sense of the situation. Different circumstances? What did that even mean? Since when did Deku have "different circumstances" that allowed him to dodge challenges? It felt like a cop-out, a way for Deku to avoid facing reality. Katsuki could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him, waiting to see how he would react. But he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing him lose his cool—at least, not entirely.

His fists still clenched, Katsuki forced himself to take a step back, glaring at Aizawa's back. "Fine," he spat, the word laced with barely contained anger. "But this isn't over, Deku. You won't be able to hide forever."

Izuku didn't respond, his expression unreadable as he continued to stand in place, his calm demeanor only fueling Katsuki's irritation. But for now, there was nothing more he could do. He had to focus on the test ahead.

Aizawa glanced at the class, his disinterested expression never wavering. "Alright, let's get started. First up, the 50-meter dash. Bakugo, Namikaze, you're up."

Katsuki's heart pounded in his chest, not from nerves but from the raw adrenaline that came with the thought of competition. This was his chance to prove himself, to show everyone—including that smug Namikaze—that he was the best.

He took his position at the starting line, his body tense and ready. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minato calmly taking his place beside him. Katsuki could feel the heat rising in his palms, his quirk ready to propel him forward at breakneck speed. Minato might have been calm, but Katsuki was ready to explode.

"On your marks," Aizawa's voice was steady, unbothered by the tension crackling in the air. "Get set... go!"

Katsuki blasted off the line with an explosion, the force propelling him forward like a rocket. Minato didn't even move a finger before he blasted off. The ground blurred beneath his feet as he poured every ounce of energy into speed. Everything else disappeared for those few seconds—anger, frustration, and doubt. There was only the finish line and his determination to reach it first. He was Bakugo Katsuki, damn it, and no one was going to beat him.

Yet, Minato was already there, standing at the finish line when a second ago. It was like he teleported. Katsuki skidded to a stop, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Minato was already standing at the finish line as if he'd been there the whole time, his expression as calm and composed as ever. Katsuki's heart hammered in his chest, not from exertion but from the sheer disbelief that flooded through him. How? How had Minato moved so fast? Katsuki had given it everything he had, and yet Minato had still beaten him with such ease that it was as if he hadn't even tried.

The students murmured among themselves, their voices a mixture of awe and confusion. Katsuki could feel their eyes on him, feel their expectations, feel their doubt. He clenched his fists, ignoring the burning humiliation that threatened to consume him. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be the best, the fastest, the strongest. And yet, Minato had just made him look like a joke.

Aizawa, as always, showed no reaction. He merely marked something on his clipboard before glancing at Katsuki and Minato. "Next," he called out, his voice as flat as ever, as if what had just happened was completely ordinary.

Katsuki's blood boiled. Ordinary? This was anything but ordinary. He wanted to demand a rematch, to push Minato until he showed some sign of struggle, of effort. But something held him back. A voice in the back of his mind whispered that it wouldn't matter. Minato was on a different level, and deep down, Katsuki hated that he knew it.

Minato turned to walk back to the rest of the class, his steps measured and unhurried. Katsuki's eyes followed him, burning with a mix of fury and determination. This wasn't over. Minato might have won this round, but Katsuki wasn't going to let it end like this. He would find a way to beat him, to prove that he was still the top dog at UA.

The rest of the tests passed in a blur. Katsuki performed well—better than most, in fact—but each time, Minato was right there, matching or surpassing him with an almost infuriating ease. And then there was Izuku, standing on the sidelines, watching everything with that same unreadable expression. Katsuki's anger flared each time he caught sight of him, but he couldn't afford to lose focus. Not now. He still has the last test to complete, Ball Throwing.

As they gathered for the final test, the ball-throwing event, Katsuki's frustration simmered just beneath the surface. This was it—his last chance to prove himself today, to show everyone that he was still the one to beat. The other tests had been grueling, but this one? This one was made for him. His Explosion quirk was perfect for it. All he had to do was channel his power and send the ball soaring further than anyone else could even dream of.

He watched as the first few students took their turns. Some had quirks that allowed them to throw the ball far, others not so much. Katsuki barely paid attention. None of them mattered. His eyes flicked to Minato, who stood a few feet away, his calm demeanor as infuriating as ever. Katsuki didn't know what kind of quirk Minato had, but whatever it was, it was too fast—too effective. But speed wouldn't help him here. This test was about raw power, and that was something Katsuki knew he could deliver.

Finally, it was his turn. He stepped forward, ball in hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his quirk tingling in his palms. Aizawa's disinterested gaze was fixed on him, and the clipboard was ready to record the results. Katsuki took a deep breath, centering himself. He needed to get this right.

With a snarl of determination, Katsuki reared back and unleashed his quirk, a massive explosion propelling the ball into the sky with a deafening roar. The force of the blast sent a shockwave rippling through the air, and the ball shot upward like a missile, disappearing into the clouds.

The entire class watched in stunned silence as the ball continued to soar, far beyond where any of the others had landed. Katsuki's heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was it. This was the moment where he showed them all who was the real number one.

Aizawa glanced at the device in his hand that measured the distance. His expression didn't change, but he nodded slightly. "Good distance," he said, his voice as flat as ever. "Well done, Bakugo."

Katsuki smirked, his confidence flooding back in an instant. There it was—the acknowledgment he craved. He had beaten them all, proven his superiority once again. Let Minato have his speed—Katsuki had the power, and in a place like UA, power was everything.

But before he could fully bask in his victory, he noticed Minato stepping up to take his turn. Katsuki's smirk faltered slightly as he watched Minato pick up the ball, his movements smooth and unhurried. Minato didn't have the same intensity, the same fire that burned within Katsuki. But there was something unsettling about the way he approached each test—as if he knew exactly what he needed to do and did it without a second thought.

Minato took a moment, closing his eyes as if concentrating. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he hurled the ball forward. There was no explosion, no dramatic display of power, just a simple throw. But the result was anything but simple.

The ball vanished in an instant, it was just gone. Katsuki glanced toward Aizawa who was reviewing the score.

"Namikazi, 18 Kilometers," Aizawa announces.

Katsuki's fists clenched as he watched the scene unfold. Minato had done it again—he'd outperformed him with that frustrating ease, without even breaking a sweat. It was infuriating, and it burned Katsuki to his core. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be the best, the strongest. And yet, Minato had just shown him up, again.

Aizawa checked the distance on his device, his expression still unreadable. "Impressive," he said, giving a slight nod to Minato. "Namikaze, that was an exceptional use of your quirk."

Minato simply nodded in acknowledgment, as if it was no big deal. Katsuki's blood boiled at the sight. He wanted to scream, to demand a rematch, to do something—anything—to wipe that calm, collected look off Minato's face. But he knew that wouldn't change the result. Minato had beaten him fair and square, and there was nothing he could do about it. At least not right now. The girl with short, brown hair stepped forward, her face flushed with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Katsuki barely paid attention to her as she prepared to take her turn. His mind was still spinning with thoughts of Minato, of how he could have possibly thrown the ball that far without any visible effort. It gnawed at him, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He wanted to crush something, anything, to release the anger that was threatening to consume him.

The girl, Uraraka, if Katsuki remembered correctly from the earlier introductions, held the ball in her hands, her expression determined. Katsuki's eyes flicked to her for a moment, wondering how someone like her was supposed to compete in a test like this. She didn't look particularly strong or powerful, and there was no visible sign of any quirk that could help her.

But then, she did something unexpected. Uraraka lightly tapped the ball, and it started to float. Katsuki's eyes widened slightly as the ball hovered in the air, defying gravity. She grinned, then pushed the ball gently, sending it slowly but steadily into the sky. There was no explosion, no burst of speed, but the ball continued to rise higher and higher, unbound by the forces that should have pulled it back down.

Katsuki's surprise quickly turned to irritation. This girl had a quirk that allowed her to negate gravity? How was that fair? He watched as the ball disappeared into the distance, seemingly with no end in sight.

Aizawa watched the ball's progress with the same indifferent expression he always wore. "Infinite distance," he finally said, his voice devoid of any real inflection. "Good use of your quirk, Uraraka."

The class buzzed with excitement at the unexpected result, but Katsuki's jaw clenched. It didn't sit right with him. This was supposed to be a test of power, of strength, not a test of who could use their quirk in the most unexpected way. It was supposed to be his moment to shine, to prove that he was the strongest in the class. And yet, once again, he felt overshadowed, not just by Minato, but now by this girl too.

He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling as the rest of the students took their turns. Each one seemed to have something unique, something that made them stand out in ways Katsuki hadn't anticipated. It wasn't that he didn't recognize their potential—it was just that he hadn't expected it to challenge his dominance so early on. He had always been the top, the best, and now it felt like the rug was being pulled out from under him.

As the final student completed their throw, Aizawa called the class to gather around. Katsuki reluctantly joined the group, his mind still buzzing with frustration. He didn't like this feeling—this sense of being outclassed, of not being the absolute best. It was unfamiliar, and he hated it.

Aizawa looked over the class, his eyes half-lidded, still giving off that tired, disinterested vibe. "You all did... well," he said, his voice carrying just the faintest hint of approval. "You showed me what you're capable of, and that's what I wanted to see. But don't get complacent. This was just the beginning. You're here to learn, to push beyond your limits. If you don't, you'll fall behind."

Katsuki clenched his fists, Aizawa's words grating on him. Fall behind? That wasn't an option. Not for him. He had too much pride, too much determination to let anyone surpass him, especially someone like Minato or even Deku, who still stood silently to the side, as if this whole thing didn't concern him.

"Class dismissed," Aizawa finally said, turning to walk away. "Rest up. Tomorrow's another day."

As the class began to disperse, Katsuki remained where he was, his mind still racing. He couldn't let this stand. He had to find a way to prove himself, to show everyone that he was still the strongest, the best. This wasn't just about pride—it was about his future, about becoming the greatest hero the world had ever seen.

He glanced over at Minato, who was already walking away, calm and composed as ever. Katsuki's eyes narrowed. Minato might have won today, but that didn't mean he would win tomorrow. Katsuki wasn't going to give up. He'd train harder, push himself further, and when the next test came, he would be ready.

And as for Deku... Katsuki's gaze shifted to Izuku, who was still lingering at the edge of the field, his expression unreadable. There was something about him, something that had changed, and it unsettled Katsuki more than he wanted to admit. But whatever it was, Katsuki would figure it out. And when he did, he would put Deku in his place once and for all.

With a final scowl, Katsuki turned and headed back toward the lockeroom. The day had been frustrating, infuriating even, but it wasn't over. He still had time, still had a chance to prove himself. Tomorrow, he would show them all who the real number one was. Tomorrow, he would make sure everyone knew that Bakugo Katsuki was the best, and nothing—no one—could take that from him.