The sun hung low over U.A.’s training grounds, painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold. The air smelled faintly of smoke and summer grass — the kind of evening that made the world feel just a little softer.

Katsuki Bakugo stood alone near the far end of the field, hands shoved into his pockets, jaw tight as ever. His training gear was still on, dust and sweat marking the day’s battles. He told himself he was just cooling down… but that wasn’t the truth.

You were on your way.

“Tch… stupid,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not a big deal. Just showin’ ‘em the new gear adjustments. That’s it.”

The faint sound of footsteps reached his ears, and before he could compose himself, you rounded the corner — a little breathless, a grin lighting up your face.

“Hey, Bakugo! Sorry I’m late — Aizawa-sensei caught me on the way here.”

He huffed, pretending not to care. “You always got some excuse.”

But the corner of his mouth twitched — just barely.

You laughed, brushing dust off your sleeve.

“So, what’s this about the new gear you’ve been working on?”

“Tch. It’s not a big deal. Just… upgraded the support gauntlets. Better blast control.” He handed you a pair of protective gloves without looking at you directly. “Figured you’d wanna test ‘em.”

The two of you took your positions on the field, the golden light spilling across the concrete. You tried mimicking his movements — and when you stumbled slightly, he was there in an instant, catching your wrist before you fell.

“Watch it, dumbass,” he said sharply, but his grip softened before he let go.

Your heart skipped.

“Thanks.”

Bakugo turned away quickly, his ears faintly red.

“Just don’t get yourself hurt, alright? I ain’t got time to drag you to Recovery Girl again.”

You smiled. “Sure thing, hero.”

That word made him flinch — but not in anger this time. More like it meant something he wasn’t ready to accept.

When the last of the daylight began to fade, the two of you sat on the training field steps. The air was warm, cicadas humming in the distance. Bakugo leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky.

“Ya did good today,” he said quietly, surprising even himself. “Didn’t think you’d keep up.”

You nudged his shoulder playfully. “Was that a compliment, Bakugo?

“Tch. Don’t push it.”

But he didn’t move away.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward — just easy. The kind that felt earned. Bakugo glanced sideways, his usual fire dimmed into something softer.

He didn’t say what he was thinking — that he liked having you there, that you made the long days feel shorter and the training less lonely. He didn’t know how to.

Instead, he muttered, “You’re not bad to have around, y’know.”

You grinned. “Coming from you? That’s practically a confession.”

He scoffed, looking away again, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips.

As the night settled in, the stars shimmered above U.A., and Bakugo sat there beside you — the explosions quiet for once, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing next to his. Maybe he didn’t know how to say it yet. But in that moment, he didn’t have to.