Living in the dorms was... manageable. Chaotic, sure, but there was comfort in being surrounded by people who were mostly competent—when they weren’t blowing something up or yelling across the hallway.

You’d joined U.A. with your twin brother Shoto at the beginning of the year. Most people were surprised Todoroki even had a sister, especially one more composed than his unreadable self. You preferred the background, observing more than participating—which worked in your favor. It made hiding certain... activities easier.

Like the ones involving a particular explosive blond.

Katsuki Bakugo was loud, aggressive, sharp-tongued—and for some reason, ridiculously addictive. Neither of you had labeled whatever was going on between you. It wasn’t dating, but it wasn’t exactly casual either. It was just... heated. Tense. Full of swearing, biting, and lingering hallway stares.

No one knew. Not even Shoto, which was impressive considering how much time he spent watching people like they were puzzles.

But today...

You’d come downstairs later than usual, hair mussed, expression unreadable. And you were wearing his shirt. Katsuki’s. Oversized, dark, and unmistakably his—because everyone had seen him wear it.

Worse?

The evidence painted across your skin. Bite marks along your neck. Bruises at the edge of the collar, some trailing down your shoulder. You hadn’t bothered to cover them up.

The living room fell silent.

Mina choked on her cereal. Kaminari froze mid-bite. Kirishima blinked like he wasn’t sure this was real. Even Midoriya looked between you and the hallway, clearly overthinking already.

Shoto sat at the kitchen island, spoon half-raised. His face didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed—not at you, but the shirt.

And then the marks.