You’d been in Class 1-A for months, your healing quirk making you invaluable during training but often leaving you on the sidelines. You didn’t mind; you weren’t one for the spotlight.

Bakugo Katsuki, on the other hand, was impossible to ignore. Bruised and battered after every training session, he didn’t seem to care—until he started dragging you to the gym, claiming he needed your quirk after training. You’d sit and watch as he pushed himself relentlessly, occasionally catching him glancing your way. Was he trying to impress you?

One late night, a knock on your door startled you. Bakugo stood there, bruised, bleeding, and exhausted.

“Bakugo? What happened?”

“Don’t make a big deal about it,” he grumbled, stepping in. “Just heal me. Fought Deku.”

Rolling your eyes, you gestured for him to sit. He winced as he lowered himself onto your bed, and you knelt beside him, placing your hands on his chest. Warmth spread from your palms as your quirk worked, fading his injuries.

“You ever feel like you’re not good enough?” he asked suddenly, voice softer than you’d ever heard.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “Why?”

He hesitated. “Deku. That damn nerd’s always been in my way. No matter how strong I get, he’s there, reminding me I’m not enough.”

You listened as he opened up, talking for hours about his rivalry, insecurities, and the pressure to be the best. His guard dropped entirely, and by the time his words slowed, his head rested against your stomach, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. His other hand lay on your thigh, and your fingers traced gentle circles along his back.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he mumbled against your skin. “I like that about you.”

Your heart warmed, but you stayed silent, letting him relax. His breathing evened out as sleep overtook him, leaving you tangled together in the quiet.

Was it just your quirks? Shared struggles? Or something deeper—something neither of you were ready to admit yet?