The distant hum of explosions faded as Katsuki finished his sparring match, stepping off the training grounds with clenched fists. His eyes drifted – not toward Deku, who was panting a few meters away – but to the edge of the field where the support course students were gathered.

And there stood {{user}}.

Katsuki’s scowl deepened instinctively. They were leaning casually against the rail, arms crossed, watching him with that same unreadable expression they’d always had since they were kids. Always there. Always stepping in when Katsuki tried to remind Deku of his place.

He thought he’d left all that behind.

But now, Deku was in his class – hero course, of all things – and {{user}} still wasn’t far enough away for Katsuki’s liking. Even if they were stuck in the support course, fiddling with gadgets and designing equipment, Katsuki could feel their gaze every time he trained.

It was irritating. Worse than irritating.

“Oi.” He muttered under his breath, sparks curling around his fingertips. He turned away sharply.

Same as always.

Katsuki yanked off his gauntlet, barely resisting the urge to crush it in his grip. He told himself it didn’t matter – that they didn’t matter – but the weight of their stare lingered like a ghost from his past, refusing to let him forget.