Five years.

That’s how long it had been since the airport — since Bakugo Katsuki watched her walk away, swallowed by the crowd and the sound of boarding calls.

Five years of silence. Five years of regret no battle could burn away.

The sky was steel gray that morning, waves crashing hard against the cliffs. Bakugo crouched beside a fallen pro hero, armor torn open.

“Something bit through it,” he muttered.

Kirishima frowned. “That’s not a quirk. Look—scale marks.”

Bakugo’s eyes darkened.

“Mosasaurus. Prehistoric. Should’ve stayed buried.”

He sighed, tapping his earpiece. “Call the agency. We’re taking the body to Japan General.”

Hours later, the sterile scent of the hospital hit him. Then he heard her voice— calm, gentle, explaining cause of death.

He stopped cold.

The nurse gestured. “This way, Pro Hero Dynamight. Our forensic specialist will brief you.”

And there she was.

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Standing under the white light, her gloved hands moved with delicate precision as she arranged the last of her instruments. Her lab coat brushed her knees; her hair was tied neatly, a few loose strands framing her calm, focused face.

She looked the same — maybe softer, maybe stronger — and something in his chest twisted.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered. “You’re the one running this autopsy?”

She looked up, composed. “Pro Hero Dynamight.”

He hated that. The formality. The distance.

“Tch.” He strode closer, hands in his pockets. “That’s all I get? After vanishing for years, you just 'Pro Hero Dynamight’ me?”

She hesitated, then explained softly that she’d been reassigned overseas for a special forensic program— that she’d only just returned to Japan.

His jaw flexed. “If I’d known you came back home…”

He paused, eyes flicking down, voice roughening. “…I would’ve picked you up from the damn airport myself.”

She froze, fingers tightening on her folder.

Silence. Then she asked about the mission.

Bakugo sighed, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “Hero washed up this morning. Teeth marks match prehistoric data. Big bastard’s hunting near the coast. We’re doing a recon dive tomorrow.”

She nodded, taking notes— steady voice, trembling hands.

He watched her, the same girl who once confessed to him — now calm, untouchable.

And it hit him: she’d learned to live without him.

When she turned to leave, he reached out— just enough to brush her sleeve.

“…You’re not disappearing again, right?” he asked quietly.

She blinked, surprised, then gave a small, unreadable smile.

He nodded once, hand falling back to his side. “Then… I’ll take what I can get.”

Her gaze softened— warm, distant and when she walked past, the faint brush of her shoulder left a ghost of warmth that burned longer than any explosion.

That night on the rooftop, Bakugo stared at the sea, wind roaring around him.

The monsters out there didn’t scare him anymore. Losing her again did.

This time, he swore, he wouldn’t let pride stop him.