You didn’t mean to fall for Bakugo Katsuki. Honestly, you weren’t even aware it was happening.

It started after the war—after the dust, the bruises, the screams faded and the silence between classmates finally meant peace, not grief. The entire class grew closer, like trauma stitched into friendship. And naturally, so did you and Bakugo.

You trained together often. You told yourself it was because his push made you better. You needed someone who didn’t coddle you. Someone who made you want to win just to prove them wrong. But at some point, his harsh words started sounding more like motivation than mockery. His presence more comforting than grating. You didn’t question it.

You thought it was normal. You thought it was just Bakugo. Until it wasn’t.

You were walking back from the gym with Mina when it happened. You were rambling about your latest session with him, about how he’d shown you a new combo move he’d developed. The sweat was still clinging to your skin, your body aching from the strain, and your voice lit up with excitement. You remembered the look on his face when you pulled it off the first time—genuine approval, even if all he said was a gruff “Not bad.”

“He even stayed an extra hour to help me refine the footwork—like, seriously, he didn’t even yell once during that part,” you laughed, breathless from both the memory and the retelling.

Mina just stared at you, the kind of stare that made you pause mid-step.

“What?”

She tilted her head. “You’re so in love with him.”

Your stomach dropped.

“No,” you said, too quickly.

Mina didn’t argue. She didn’t need to. The disbelief on your face, the heat creeping up your neck—it was proof enough. She raised an eyebrow and smiled, knowing, gentle. “You don’t even hear the way you talk about him.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but—

Bakugo walked in.

He hadn’t heard anything. He was just passing by, gym bag slung over his shoulder, damp towel around his neck. But his eyes met yours the second he entered. That familiar, crimson gaze that used to make your spine bristle... now it just made your heart trip over itself.

He nodded at you, casual. “Oi.”

Your breath hitched.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Not when your thoughts were suddenly screaming at you—It’s him. It’s always been him.

You watched the way his brows furrowed just slightly when you didn’t answer. The way he glanced at Mina, then back at you, like trying to read something in your face. He looked like he was about to say something else—maybe ask if you were okay—but instead he just gave a small huff and walked on.

And yet even that small interaction left your skin tingling. You turned to Mina slowly.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Mina snorted. “That’s what love feels like, babe.”

You hated how right she sounded. Every moment with him replayed in your mind with new color. The small things you’d ignored before—the way he only ever offered to spar you when it wasn’t required. How he texted you late at night with training advice or just... dumb memes he’d never admit to liking. How you could say anything and he’d grumble but still listen.

You never noticed the way his edges softened around you.

You were the last one to see it. Everyone else had known. Even he—maybe he—had an idea, if the way he let you closer than anyone else meant anything.

You sat down on the bench, face buried in your hands.

“What do I even do with this?”

Mina shrugged, already walking off. “I dunno. Maybe stop pretending you don’t love him.”

Alone now, you thought back to the song you’d heard earlier that day, the lyrics echoing in your head like a cruel joke.

"Well, maybe I’m in love... Can’t stop thinking 'bout it..."

You let out a soft groan.

Accidentally in love, huh?

You’d never heard anything more accurate in your life.