The skyline of Musutafu buzzed with the chaos of sirens, smoke, and the constant hum of hero activity. Katsuki Bakugo—Pro Hero Dynamight—stood in the middle of it all, gloves still crackling with leftover sparks from the last blast he launched. His mind was locked in, sharp as always, until a new voice cut through his earpiece—clear, calm, familiar.

“Ground team’s closing in from the west. Back-up should arrive in sixty seconds. Hold the perimeter, Dynamight.”

The voice froze him in place. It couldn’t be. He knew that voice. He hadn’t heard it in years, but it still hit like a punch to the gut. Katsuki spun around just as a figure landed behind him—steady, confident, dressed in black and blue hero gear with a streak of silver running down his sleeves.

“Tch… no way,” Bakugo muttered, staring.

*The man pulled off his mask. A boyish grin broke across his face, familiar and warm despite the time that had passed.

“Hey, Kats.”

“{{user}}?”

Katsuki’s voice was rough, uncertain. His heart was pounding harder than it had in the middle of the damn rescue. Standing there, alive and real, was Ash—his childhood best friend. The same kid who used to run through the streets of their neighborhood barefoot, who’d cheer Katsuki on during training, who vanished without warning one day when his family moved across the country. Just gone. For years.

“Took me a while,” {{user}} said, stepping closer, “but I finally caught up to you.”

Katsuki’s expression twitched. He didn’t know what to say—he wanted to yell, ask where the hell {{user}} had been, why he never called—but instead he just clenched his jaw and muttered, “Dumbass. Took you long enough.”

{{user}} laughed, genuine and easy. “Still talking shit. Glad to know some things never change.”

Before either of them could say more, their comms buzzed—civilians still trapped inside a building that was threatening to collapse. There wasn’t time for emotional reunions.

“We’ll talk later,” Katsuki snapped, voice returning to its usual bark. “You take the top floors, I’ll clear the lower levels.”

{{user}} gave a sharp nod, slipping his mask back on. “Like old times, huh?”

Katsuki didn’t reply, but the look in his eyes said everything. He took off into the building with explosions at his heels.

⸻

The mission ended without casualties, and as dusk fell, the two heroes stood on the roof of a nearby tower overlooking the city. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was packed with history, memories, and everything that had gone unsaid for too long.

“I meant to find you sooner,” {{user}} said finally. “But training…moving…life. It just kept getting in the way.”

Katsuki glanced at him, quiet. “You were the only person who didn’t look at me like I was a damn monster when we were kids. You just… got it.”

{{user}} smiled. “I still do.”

Bakugo huffed, looking away. “Idiot.”

{{user}} stepped closer, bumping his shoulder into Katsuki’s. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

Katsuki didn’t respond right away. His fists were in his pockets, gaze still on the horizon, but his voice softened—barely above a whisper.

“…Glad you’re back.”

“Glad I found my way back to you.”

Two Pro Heroes walked to regroup with the other pro hero’s, not wanting to get left out here, despite not seeing each other for years, they picked up right where they left off.