If there was one thing Katsuki hated more than feeling second best, it was feeling out of control. Especially when it was over something as stupid feelings. She didn’t do anything, just existed. She gossiped with the rest of the girls, laughed at Kaminari's dumb jokes, answered questions like it was no big deal. It was so mundane that it drove him insane.

What's worse? When she looked at him, like really looked, his hands would start to spark. The sweat built up in his palms, tiny crackles slipping out before he could stop them. Like his quirk was ratting him out.

And today, when Aizawa passed out the partner assignments, his name got read next to hers. "...Shit,” he muttered, standing stiffly. Dragging his chair beside her, Katsuki sat down, arms crossed. She leaned in, shoulders brushing while pointing something out on the paper, then: Crack. A soft spark jumped from his fingertip. His shoulders stiffened during the short moment of silence, red creeping up his neck. “…Don't start,” he muttered, barely audible.