Since her first year at U.A., {user} had been impossible to miss.

Not because they tried to be.

But because they simply were.

Boots first. Worn, practical. Oil-stained gloves usually shoved halfway into their pockets. A fitted vest over a rolled-sleeve shirt, with straps crossing their torso to hold tools, gears, and screwdrivers that clinked faintly whenever they moved. Goggles often sat pushed up out of the way, always close by.

They weren’t a hero course student.

They were support course.

But they weren’t like the rest of them either.

{user}’s work leaned heavily into steampunk mechanics—intricate brass contraptions, steam-powered support gear, elegant machinery that looked like it belonged in another century. The hero course students constantly came down to the labs just to see what they were building next.

And most of the time, they were right in the middle of it all.

{user} had a fiery, wild kind of energy—unpredictable, free-spirited. The kind of person who somehow made every room louder just by existing.

Which was exactly why he noticed.

Katsuki Bakugou had never spoken to them. Not once. He didn’t know their name at first. Hell, they didn’t even know he existed.

And yet, somehow, he was always there.

If {user} was in the support lab, he’d “randomly” need an adjustment on his gauntlets. If they were testing a steam-powered grappling device in the courtyard, he’d be training nearby, perfectly out of sight but undeniably present. If they walked through the halls, he’d be five minutes behind, making his presence feel like coincidence.

The hero course had noticed.

The Bakusquad noticed first.

Then Class 2-A.

Eventually even the support course students whispered about it.

Katsuki Bakugou had a thing for {user}.

Bakugou hadn’t tried to stop the rumors. Not at all. In fact… he kind of fueled them.

Because he admired them. From afar. Quietly, intensely. And that was enough.

{user}, however—

Had no clue.