The dorm buzzed with the usual Christmas cheer. The tree sparkled, tinsel hung from the walls, and the scent of fresh cookies filled the air. Everyone was wrapped up in the holiday spirit, laughing and decorating, except Bakugo. His mind was elsewhere, anxiety gnawing at him. Three months had passed with no word from you—no updates, nothing. Silence. It felt like an eternity.

He clenched his fists, frustration building. His classmates tried to include him in the cheer, but he couldn’t focus. His eyes kept darting to the door, waiting for you to walk through it.

Then, the door creaked open.

Bakugo’s breath hitched. You stood there, barely holding yourself up, a bloody cut across your eye, bruises covering your face and arms. You looked battered, as if you’d barely made it out of whatever you’d been through.

You stumbled, your legs giving way, and Bakugo was already moving, rushing to catch you before you fell. He gripped your shoulders, panic flooding his chest.

“{{user}}!” His voice cracked. “What the hell happened to you?!”

You didn’t answer, but your lazy, exhausted smile spoke volumes as you leaned into him. Bakugo’s heart raced. His fingers brushed against your injuries as he gently checked for other wounds. What if something worse had happened? What if you hadn’t made it back at all?

“Idiot…” he muttered, his voice shaky. “What the hell were you thinking? Three months, and you just show up like this?” His hands hovered over you, touching you to make sure you were still here.

You didn’t answer, but that faint smile reassured him. Slowly, Bakugo guided you to the floor, brushing your hair out of your face. He didn’t want to pull back, afraid the reality of it all might change.

The rest of the class gathered, faces full of concern. Kirishima’s voice was soft, eyes wide with worry. “What happened to you? We’ve been so worried…”