The arcade was alive with sound—machines whirring, lights flashing, bass-heavy music shaking the floor. You walked in with Tetsutetsu, Kaibara, Awase, and Juzo, their usual energy loud and reckless, shoving each other around as they made their way toward the games. It was supposed to be a good night.

And then you saw him.

Katsuki Bakugo. Standing over by one of the claw machines. His head was dipped low, close to someone else’s.

Ochaco Uraraka.

At first, it was easy to think nothing of it. Maybe they were just talking. Maybe they were just friends. That’s what Bakugo had always said. Over and over.

But then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t accidental. His hand curled around her jaw as he pulled her in, and she leaned into it like it was familiar. Like it wasn’t the first time. And there it was—the truth, plain as day.

Tetsutetsu stopped walking. His eyes were locked on them, wide with disbelief that shifted into something darker. Kaibara’s expression hardened, the faintest ripple of wind coiling at his feet. Awase’s jaw clenched as his hands balled into fists, his quirk already sparking to life at his fingertips like he was ready to use it. Juzo cracked his knuckles, slow and deliberate, his glare pinned on Bakugo like he was picturing breaking him in half.

They didn’t need to speak. The four of them moved like they were of one mind, stepping forward without hesitation. People noticed. Conversations dropped. Heads turned. A small circle formed around them, the energy in the air shifting fast.

Bakugo finally looked up, his mouth pulling away from hers just as his eyes found them. Red. Sharp. He froze for a second, like he hadn’t expected to be seen—by you, or by them. But he should have known better.

Uraraka turned too. The color drained from her face when her gaze landed on you. Guilt, plain and raw. But the damage was done. There was no taking it back.

Everyone had seen.

And Bakugo? He knew exactly what he’d started.