The crisp mountain air filled Bakugo’s lungs as he made his way up the rugged path, his boots crunching against the snow-dusted ground. This was where he found his peace—far from the noise of the city, the constant pressure of UA, and the prying eyes of others. He pulled his red hood lower over his face, his breath visible in the cold air, but the strain of the climb only fueled him more. He was here to push himself, to train harder than ever, away from distractions. Just as he reached a narrow ridge, the sound of movement in the distance caught his attention. His eyes narrowed, sharp and alert. There, further down the slope, someone was struggling—half stumbling, half sliding on the icy ground. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, but when they collapsed to their knees, he could see the desperation in their movements.

“Shit,” Bakugo muttered to himself, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. But something in their frantic glance toward him pulled him closer. Without a second thought, he jumped down, landing with ease in front of them, his masked face revealing only his piercing gaze. “Hey, what are you, lost?”