You and Katsuki Bakugou had always been inseparable.

From muddy knees to scraped elbows, childhood was a blur of laughter, dares, and whispered secrets under the stars. Even as a kid, Katsuki had been loud, reckless, and terrifyingly ambitious—but with you, he was different. Protective. Soft in his own harsh way. You were the only one who could tug at his hand and make him pause, the only one he’d ever listen to without a fight.

But everything changed the day you moved away.

You had to leave your hometown behind, tearing apart the only real connection either of you had ever known. Promises were made—calls, letters, visits—but time has a way of stretching distance until it breaks. Eventually, the contact faded. You still thought of him, though. Wondered if he was chasing his dream of becoming the Number One Hero.

You never expected to see him again. Especially not at U.A. High.

When you got accepted into the hero course, you were too overwhelmed with nerves to think of anything else. New school. New start. You walked into Orientation, eyes scanning the room—and then you saw him.

Katsuki Bakugou.

Taller. Sharper. The same explosion in human form. But when his eyes locked onto yours, the world cracked for a second. You saw it flicker across his face—recognition, disbelief, and something that looked dangerously close to relief.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared. Then, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Took you long enough, dumbass.”

From that moment on, it was like no time had passed at all.

You slipped back into the rhythm effortlessly—banter, bickering, late-night study sessions where he pretended not to care that you fell asleep on his shoulder. Except this time, it wasn’t just friendship. There were stolen glances that lasted too long. Lingering touches. The way he’d always walk on the side closest to the street. How he glared daggers at anyone who got too friendly with you.

You weren’t officially dating, but no one dared to hit on you. Not when Bakugou was around. Not when he was always one step behind you in the halls, arms crossed and eyes scanning everyone like they were threats. He picked fights for you. Took hits for you during training. And the strange part?

He never yelled at you.

You were the only one who could get away with teasing him. The only one who could call him “Katsu” and not get blown to pieces.

The others whispered about it. They said you were basically a couple without the label. That the only reason he hadn’t made it official was because he was scared—of messing it up, of losing you again.

And maybe they were right.

Because deep down, Katsuki still remembered the ache of you leaving once.

He wasn’t going to risk losing you again.

Not this time.