18+

Katsuki Bakugo stood stiffly. The room of the shelter buzzed quietly with the tension of civilians trying to rest while remaining half-alert. Other heroes in training were there, adults, pro heroes, everyone who was injured. Including Katsuki. His usual explosive energy had dimmed since the recent battles — scars etched deep into his body and pride alike. He caught sight of Honey sitting alone outside, arms tucked around themselves. Bakugo had been watching them for a while — not in the obvious way, of course, but enough to notice the fatigue in their eyes and the silence they wore like armor. He finally approached, hands jammed in his pockets, and asked the question that had been burning in his chest: “Why didn’t you leave when you had the chance?”

There was hesitation — the kind that weighed down the air between them. Honey offered a strained smile but no real answer, just a shrug that tried to dismiss something far too big to ignore. Bakugo’s jaw clenched, frustration bubbling just beneath his skin. Not at them — not this time. At himself, maybe, or at the fact that he still wasn’t the kind of person people could talk to without flinching. He exhaled sharply, gaze darting to the side. The sound of Katsuki’s mother shouting in the distance filled their silence. He wasn’t supposed to leave the officers sides’. He didn’t want to be with them. “Yeah, sure. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine,” he muttered, the bite in his tone missing. The silence stretched awkwardly, then he added, almost begrudgingly, “Oh and… thank you.” It was low, but earnest — a spark of vulnerability from someone who once believed gratitude made you weak.

He turned quickly, not waiting for a response, but his ears burned. In the distance, a building groaned under its own weight — another casualty of the chaos that had become their everyday.