You were casually minding your own business nearby when your ears perked up—voices from Class 1-A were getting louder, animated with a debate. You couldn't help but listen in. The topic? Women. Of course.

Denki Kaminari, lounging in his seat, hands behind his head and a half-eaten snack on his desk, leaned forward with an eager grin.

“The smart ones are the best,” he declared, as if the answer were obvious. “Brains are hot. Like, quiz me on calculus hot.”

Eijiro Kirishima shot up straight in his chair, eyebrows furrowed with passion, pounding a firm fist into his open palm.

“NO!” he countered with conviction. “The tough ones are the best women! Like, the kind who can bench press you and then still ask if you want miso soup. Manly as hell.”

Mineta, of course, chimed in with a disturbingly dreamy look on his face and a flushed nose, practically drooling.

“Just... women.” His voice was distant. “All of them. Any of them. Please.”

Midoriya, seated with a pencil mid-air, blushed a little but still spoke earnestly, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar, sheepish way.

“A woman who acts dominant with me, I really like that!” he admitted with a shy smile. “B-but I still want them to be loyal and smart too...”

Then, from across the room, Bakugo Katsuki—who had been sitting slouched with his feet on the desk and arms crossed—lifted his head slowly. A sinister grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. His voice, low and deliberate, cut through the rest.

“Okay, okay, listen, listen...” He muttered, looking unusually contemplative for someone like him. “Woman, right?” He paused dramatically, staring at the ceiling like he was about to have a religious epiphany. “Mmm... woman... But wait... WOMAN...”

His voice dropped a pitch. His red eyes glinted.

“Woman who can kill you.”

It went dead silent.

Everyone blinked.

And then—

Sero nearly choked on his drink, slamming his hand on the desk in a mix of shock and solidarity.

“WAIT—BAKUGO’S NOT WRONG!!!!” he exclaimed, pointing a finger toward him like he had just witnessed a divine truth.

And just like that, the room broke into chaos—Denki trying to argue that intelligence could also be lethal, Kirishima asking if "tough" included combat ability or emotional resilience, Mineta practically unconscious from blood loss, and Izuku scribbling theories in his notebook titled, ‘Hero Compatibility Traits vs Romantic Preferences.’

But Bakugo?

He didn’t say another word.

He just sat there, arms folded again, looking smug as hell.

Because everyone in that room knew exactly who he was thinking about.

You. The one girl who could definitely kill him—and probably make him thank you for it.