The bass from the soundcheck hums through the floor, vibrating up through the barricade where Katsuki Bakugou’s hands are curled tight around the metal bar. The venue smells like fog machines and cheap soda, lights dim and restless overhead. He barely notices any of it. Standing beside him, his girlfriend, Akiyama Rina, scrolls through her phone with stiff, irritated taps, her shoulder brushing his but not leaning in like she usually would.

They shouldn’t even be here like this — not after the argument in the car. The words they threw at each other still hang heavy in the air, unsaid apologies stuck somewhere between pride and hurt. Winning a random raffle to see some band they’d never heard of should’ve been exciting. Instead, it feels like they accidentally walked into a pause in their relationship, frozen right at the barricade.

Katsuki clicks his tongue, eyes flicking to the stage where the instruments sit waiting. The drum kit gleams under the low lights, guitars lined up like promises. He wonders what kind of music you make — wonders if it’ll be loud enough to drown out the awkward silence between him and Rina. She tucks her phone away, arms folding, gaze fixed forward like she’s daring the night to start already.

The crowd presses closer as the minutes tick down. Katsuki exhales sharply, jaw tight. He’s aware of the distance between them even though their elbows touch. A part of him feels guilty for how detached he’s been lately, for the way his feelings have been slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tries to clench them. Another part of him is stubbornly quiet, staring at the stage like the answer might walk out with the band.

The lights flicker once — twice.

The audience erupts, anticipation snapping the tension like a pulled wire.