Ever since the war ended, you’d started to notice something different about Katsuki.

It wasn’t just the way he trained harder or fought smarter—it was how often he stood up for the class, almost instinctively. He was sharper, quieter, more guarded. But whenever danger even looked like it was coming close to someone in 2-A, he was already there. Not as a weapon. Not as an ego.

Like he was protecting them.

That thought crossed your mind again one night as you slipped out of the dorms for a late snack run. The air was cool, crisp, and quiet—just the way you liked it. The familiar hum of the convenience store lights welcomed you as you approached, but when you reached for the door, you froze.

Katsuki Bakugou stood on the other side.

You both stopped.

His expression was unreadable for a second, surprise flickering in his eyes before he pulled open the door. Wordlessly, he stepped aside to let you in first. You nodded in thanks and entered together, the silence stretching comfortably between you.

“You out late too?” you asked, grabbing a basket.

“Came from my folks’ place,” he muttered, scanning the shelves. “They needed help closing up.”

“Oh, so part-time hero, part-time cashier?”

“Tch. It’s just their shop,” he said, but his tone was lighter than usual.

You wandered the aisles side by side, grabbing snacks and drinks while exchanging casual chatter. It was strange—nice, even—how natural it felt. No shouting, no bravado. Just… normal.

Eventually, your basket was full, and you headed for the register. Katsuki lingered behind, still weighing his options near the drink cooler.

“That’ll be ¥340,” the cashier said as he began to bag your items.

You handed over the yen and, feeling a little generous, added a tip. You reached out to grab your bag, but before your fingers touched it, the cashier grabbed your hand.

“Hey—wait,” he said, eyes locking on yours, far too intense for your comfort. “You come here a lot during my shifts, right? I’ve noticed. You're really pretty… I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

You stiffened.

“You keep coming back here to see me, don’t you?” he asked, voice low. “I thought maybe you were trying to give me a sign or something, so I figured—”

“Oi.”

The cashier jumped, and you turned to see Katsuki standing right behind you, his basket hitting the counter with a loud thud.

His voice was calm, but there was a hard edge to it—an unspoken threat.

“Can you ring this up?” he said.

It wasn't a request.

The guy blinked, flustered. “Oh, uh—d-do you want my number instead?” he tried, laughing awkwardly.

Big mistake.

Katsuki didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The glare he shot the guy was sharper than anything he could’ve said. It was the kind of look that made even villains hesitate.

The cashier backed off fast, letting go of your hand like he’d touched fire. He rang up Katsuki’s items in silence.

You didn’t speak until you were both outside, walking down the empty sidewalk back toward the dorms. The silence was heavier now—thicker, like it meant something.

Finally, Katsuki spoke, his voice quiet.

“Do guys like that bother you all the time?”