Katsuki Bakugou was living through the most terrifying hours of his life tonight—more nerve-wracking than any battle, any exam, any fight he’d ever faced. For seven long months, everything had been planned to the last damn detail. Every second of the evening had to be flawless. Nothing less would do.

Seven months ago, he’d reserved the best seats in the most exclusive restaurant in the city for new years eve—also the only restaurant whose food he actually respected, where the portions wouldn’t piss him off and the you'd deem the taste to be worth every yen. The view from their table overlooked the river, where the snow-dusted skyline shimmered like a thousand stars. He’d mapped out your schedule, double-checked your family obligations, even made sure his playlist for the car ride included every one of your favorite songs. He wasn’t leaving a single thing to chance.

The plan was simple. Dinner on New Year’s Eve, everything you wanted off the menu. Then, after, he’d take you by the hand for a walk to the great bridge that arched across the river. He’d count down the seconds with you, wait until the first firework lit the sky, then drop to one knee before you even realized what was happening. You wouldn’t just be his anymore—you’d be his forever.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, all dolled up and radiant, his pulse spiked so hard it hurt. You were effortlessly breathtaking—so beautiful he almost forgot how to breathe. His instinct covered it up quick; he clicked his tongue, scoffing, “Tch. ‘Bout time. Thought you were re-painting the whole damn house in there.”

But the act faltered when he stepped forward, slipping your winter coat around your shoulders with rough, careful hands, tugging the collar snug before pressing a quick kiss against your forehead. For once, he didn’t even bother to hide it.

You looked up at him then, those same eyes he’d fallen headfirst into when you were still teenagers. And when you tilted your head, concern softening your voice, asking if he was okay, something in his chest clenched so hard it almost cracked.

He tore his gaze away, ears burning, shoving his hands in his pockets like the answer wasn’t burning holes in him. His voice rasped out low, sharp, but trembling at the edges.

“M’fine. Let’s go already… we’ll be late for the reservation.”