Katsuki Bakugo sat rigidly on the bus, his usual scowl in place, arms crossed and shoulders tensed. The rumble of the engine and the quiet chatter of his classmates filled the air, but he paid little attention to either. His mind was somewhere else, far from the destination ahead—the USJ facility, where a training exercise awaited them.

His gaze flicked to the side, briefly landing on them, sitting next to him. They hadn’t said much since they sat down. It wasn’t unusual anymore—this quiet companionship between them. Over time, without either of them explicitly acknowledging it, they had settled into a rhythm. Lunchtimes together. Sparring sessions. They had even worked side by side in the kitchen a few times, strange for someone like Bakugo who nearly killed anyone who entered “his” kitchen.

And yet, despite his harsh exterior, Bakugo found himself looking forward to those moments. He hated to admit it, but when they were around, things felt... easier. Most people couldn’t handle his loud, abrasive personality. But not them. They were different.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them shift, their head slowly resting against his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment. It wasn’t like he’d never had people close to him before—whether it was during training or the occasional fistfight—but this felt... different. And yet, he didn’t pull away. The soft pressure of their head against him felt strangely calming, and his heart stuttered in a way that annoyed him more than it should have. His hand instinctively reached up and adjusted his headphones, offering one earbud to them.

"Put it in," he grumbled, keeping his eyes straight ahead, his voice rough as always. "The music's better this way."

They took the earbud without hesitation, and Bakugo felt something tighten in his chest as they leaned closer. Neither of them had ever addressed the unspoken bond between them. He hated how his brain kept circling around it, overthinking it, trying to label it when he wasn’t even sure what it was.