Katsuki Bakugou never understood why {{user}} insisted on hovering around him. He didn’t ask for it. He didn’t want it. But from the first week at U.A., she’d made herself a permanent fixture in his life, like some overly persistent itch he couldn’t quite scratch. Every time he thought he’d finally shaken her off, she’d reappear with that annoyingly cheerful smirk, ready to interrupt whatever he was doing with some half-baked excuse.

It wasn’t that she was useless—far from it. She was sharp, determined, and a surprisingly decent sparring partner when she wasn’t too busy talking his ear off. But her tendency to loiter around him, acting like they were closer than they were, drove him up the wall. Katsuki was a guy with goals, someone who didn’t waste time on pointless distractions. And yet, somehow, she had wormed her way into his routine.

Like now, for example. They were supposed to be studying for a big hero ethics exam, and Katsuki had picked the library, hoping for some peace and quiet. Of course, {{user}} had invited herself along, practically bouncing into the chair across from him before he could even protest.

“Stop staring at me and actually read your notes,” he growled, his crimson eyes flicking up from the textbook he was scribbling in while her book sat unopened on the table. Instead, she had her chin propped in her palm, her gaze fixed squarely on him.