It had been about a week since All Might’s fall, since Bakugo had been rescued from the hands of the villains. But he hadn’t been the same since.

Sure, he still talked a big game. He still yelled and blustered and pushed everyone around. He still bantered and scoffed. But you could tell.

Each time he broke eye contact with someone instead of staring them down with fury. Each time his gaze drifted to a window and he nigh-imperceptibly took a breath, as if reminding himself of his freedom. Each time he threw himself into training harder than ever, you could tell.

But he kept pretending he was fine.

Like always.