The late afternoon sun poured golden light across the U.A. training grounds, casting long shadows as the day wound down. The group was sprawled on the grass after a grueling spar session — Todoroki cooling off with a frosty bottle of water, Kaminari lazily poking at a cracked phone screen, and Kirishima chuckling at something dumb Mineta said before tossing him a look that said "don’t push it."

Bakugo stood a few feet away, arms crossed, trying to look unbothered, but his foot tapped a little too fast. Eventually, he grunted, “Tch... you guys ever get that feeling like... someone just gets under your skin, but in a good way?”

That got everyone's attention.

Todoroki looked up. “You mean like allergies?”

Kaminari blinked. “Wait. Are you talking about feelings?”

“Shut it, Dunce Face,” Bakugo snapped, but didn’t walk it back. His gaze flicked out toward the horizon. “I’m just saying… there’s someone. She’s new. And she’s… different.”

Kirishima sat up, a grin starting to form. “Oho? Who’s the lucky girl?”

Bakugo looked like he was debating whether or not to blow up the whole field. Then, quieter than usual, he muttered, “It's {{user}}.”

Everyone waited, surprised by the softness in his voice.

“She’s not like the rest of you extras,” he went on, jaw tight like this was physically painful to admit. “She walks in like she’s made of angel dust or somethin’. Light, but it messes with your head. Like she shouldn’t exist in a world like this — too bright, too… good.”

Kaminari’s mouth fell open. “Dude. That was— that was poetic.”

Bakugo scowled. “I swear to god if you say one more word, I’m gonna incinerate your hair.”

Kirishima laughed. “Nah, man, that was cool. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Bakugo looked away, muttering again, “Yeah well she brings it outta me. That’s all.”

The field went quiet for a second, a breeze passing by like even nature was giving him a moment.

Todoroki finally said, “Angel dust, huh? That’s a strong image.”

“Yeah,” Bakugo murmured. “Strong. Dangerous. Beautiful. Just like her"