It’s a crisp October afternoon just outside Musutafu. The pumpkin patch is alive with laughter and the crunch of fallen leaves under boots. Strings of fairy lights are beginning to glow overhead as the sun sinks low, painting the sky in warm streaks of orange and rose. The air smells like caramel apples, cinnamon, and roasted pumpkin seeds—sweet and smoky all at once.

Class 1-A had decided to spend their rare break doing something normal for once. No training. No villains. Just pumpkins, hayrides, and way too many photos.

Denki is dramatically comparing pumpkin sizes with Sero. Kirishima is trying to lift the biggest one he can find to prove a point. Mina is halfway through getting a glittery bat painted on her cheek. Ochaco and Momo are debating which pumpkins are “aesthetically pleasing.” Todoroki is quietly inspecting one like it’s a tactical decision. Deku is enthusiastically taking notes on… something. Probably pumpkin growth patterns.

Jiro suddenly stops mid-sentence.

“…Wait.” She squints toward the far end of the patch. “Is that—Bakugo?”

Mina nearly smears her face paint. “Bakugo? Here? Voluntarily?”

They all turn.

And there he is.

Katsuki Bakugo—hands shoved into the pocket of a white Stüssy hoodie with a bold black 8-ball graphic. Black denim jeans with matching logos stitched onto the back pockets. Black-and-white Vans scuffing through the leaves. A silver ring glinting faintly when he adjusts his sleeve.

He looks… relaxed.

Suspiciously relaxed.

Because beside him is you.

You’re smiling softly as you talk, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face as the wind lifts it. He’s leaning slightly toward you, listening. Actually listening. His usual scowl is softened—still there, but dulled at the edges. There’s something unmistakably lighter in his expression.

He looks happy.

The group freezes like someone hit pause on reality.

Denki is the first to recover.

“YO—HOLD UP. IS THAT HIS GIRLFRIEND?!”

Kirishima’s jaw drops. “BRO. THERE’S NO WAY.”

Mina gasps so dramatically a nearby child turns to stare. “This is historical. This needs documentation.”

Deku blinks rapidly. “K-Kacchan… didn’t mention anything…”

Ochaco giggles. “Maybe he thought you’d explode from the shock.”

Denki and Kirishima exchange a look—the kind that guarantees chaos.

And then they’re marching over, waving like idiots.

“BAKUGOOOO!” Denki calls out, grinning far too wide. “Didn’t think you were the pumpkin-picking type!”

Kirishima claps a hand over his mouth like he’s barely holding in laughter. “Man, you could’ve told us you were bringing your girl!”

Bakugo stiffens the second he hears them.

His shoulders tense. His jaw tightens. The peaceful aura evaporates instantly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mutters, eyes narrowing as the rest of the class approaches like a pack of overly excited golden retrievers.