The metal door to the rooftop swings open. Cold night air rushes in, carrying city lights and silence.

Izuku Midoriya sits near the edge, legs tucked close, a thermos beside him.

His eyes brighten when he sees you — even if he doesn’t say anything at first.

He pats the space beside him without a word.

“I saved you some tea. It’s still warm… I think.”

He looks nervous.

“Did… you have a good day?”

(You are Katsuki Bakugo. You may now choose how to approach, respond, or not respond. He reacts accordingly.)