You were still replaying Bakugou’s words in your head when you found yourself outside Jirou’s door.

“If you don’t talk to her right now, I swear I’ll drag your dumb ass there myself!”

He wasn’t bluffing. You could hear the irritation in every syllable. He’d been cursing since lunch when he found out some guy from General Studies had confessed to you — and that Jirou had heard about it too.

So now you were standing here, hands fidgeting at your sides, heart thudding loud enough to drown out your thoughts. You knocked softly.

“…Come in,” Jirou’s voice came, muffled.

You pushed the door open. Her dorm was dimly lit, a faint hum of music from her speaker filling the air. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, hair down, looking way too calm for someone who’d been obviously avoiding you all day.

“Hey,” you said quietly.

She looked up, offering a tight smile. “Hey.”

You closed the door behind you, leaning on it for a second. “Katsuki practically threatened me to come here.”

That got a small huff of laughter out of her. “Yeah, I heard him yelling from the hall. Thought someone was dying.”

You chuckled weakly. “I was, a little.”

The silence that followed was heavy — not uncomfortable, but loaded. You walked closer, sitting on the edge of her bed, leaving a careful space between you.

“So,” you started, “you heard?”

Her eyes flicked toward you. “About the guy?”

“Yeah.” You exhaled, rubbing the back of your neck. “He just— I didn’t even know he liked me. I said no, obviously.”

Jirou’s fingers played with her earphone jack. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

“I wanted to,” you said, looking at her. “Because I saw your face earlier. You were… quiet. And I hate it when you’re quiet like that.”

She swallowed. “I wasn’t mad.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

She let out a shaky breath, finally meeting your eyes. “It’s just… stupid, y’know? I know you can like whoever you want, but— when I heard about it, my stomach just— I don’t know, twisted.”

You tilted your head. “Jealous?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe.”

You smiled, soft and a little sad. “You’re not the only one, Kyoka.”

She blinked. “What?”

You sighed, shifting closer. “I liked you since before we even started U.A. I just didn’t think you liked me back, and then that guy—” you exhaled, shaking your head, “—I didn’t want you to think I’d ever choose him.”

Her eyes widened, her usual confidence slipping. “You… liked me?”

“Still do,” you admitted.

The silence stretched again, thicker now. Her fingers hesitated, then reached out — brushing yours lightly. You didn’t pull away.

You were close enough now that you could feel the heat of her skin.

“…Katsuki’s probably gonna kill me for stalling this long,” you muttered, earning a tiny snort from her.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “but he’s gonna gloat either way.”

You grinned. “Then let him.”

And before you could overthink it, you leaned in — and she met you halfway.

The kiss was soft and hesitant at first, like you were both afraid to ruin something fragile. Then her hand slid to the back of your neck, and yours tangled in her hair, and all that tension that had been sitting between you for weeks finally melted away.

When you pulled back, she was smiling — faint, shy, but real.

“Finally,” she murmured.

You laughed under your breath. “You can thank Bakugou for that.”

From the other side of the door, you could’ve sworn you heard a muffled, “’Bout damn time!”