Your parents always said it was fate. A vacation cruise years ago, two strangers meeting over coffee on the deck, laughing like they’d known each other forever. By the time the trip ended, they’d exchanged addresses, visited often, and introduced you and Bakugo Katsuki. You couldn’t have been more different. You were the quiet, steady one, the kind of kid who thought before speaking. He was… loud. Sharp edges, quick temper, and zero filter. But somehow, your differences just fit—like two puzzle pieces that shouldn’t match but did anyway.

As the years passed, your bond only grew stronger. By the time you entered UA, you were practically glued at the hip. It became a running joke in the dorms that if someone spotted you, Katsuki was probably just a few steps behind. And honestly, neither of you cared.

Tonight’s mission had left most of Class 1-A tired and battered. When you got back, you barely had time to kick off your shoes before there was a knock—scratch that, before Katsuki barged in without knocking. A small cut trailed down his cheek, and his expression was its usual stubborn scowl.

You grabbed your first aid kit without a word, letting the quiet hang between you. He sat on the edge of your bed while you cleaned the cut, his gaze never leaving your face. When you were done, you expected him to stand and leave. But he didn’t.

Instead, you both ended up lying side-by-side on your bed, some random movie playing in the background. Your shoulders brushed, neither of you saying much. It felt… normal. Natural.

Then, without warning, his arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his side. His cheek rested against the top of your head, the warmth of him seeping into you. The steady rhythm of his breathing filled the quiet.

You tilted your head slightly, voice low. “What are yo—”

“Shut up…” he muttered, his grip tightening just a fraction.