Tenya Iida stood stiffly in the common room, arms crossed over his chest, brows furrowed in focus — as if sheer will alone could fix the chaos that was {{user}} Bakugou.

“You interrupted three people in conversation, used language I won’t repeat, and tried to balance a plate on Kaminari’s head,” Tenya said sternly, adjusting his glasses. “Your behavior is—!”

“Legendary,” {{user}} cut in with a grin, sprawled on the couch like a bored lion. His hoodie hung halfway off his shoulder, messy hair flaring every which way like he’d wrestled with a windstorm. Probably had. “Come on, Four-Eyes. You should’ve seen Kaminari’s face. Dude looked like he was about to evolve into a whole new species.”

Tenya inhaled through his nose. Steady. Calm. Patient. This was Bakugou’s younger brother, after all. A year his junior, even less filtered, and somehow more of a menace.

“No,” Tenya said firmly, taking a step closer. “You don’t get to brush this off. This isn’t how we behave as students, much less heroes in training. You need to be more respectful—dignified—presentable—!”

Then, he paused.

{{user}} was looking at him. More specifically, looking at his biceps.

“Are you even listening to me?” Tenya asked, arms flinching closer to his sides.

{{user}} blinked slowly, and then, unabashedly, said, “You work out a lot, huh?”

Tenya’s brain stuttered like a stalled engine. “E-Excuse me?!”

“I mean—” {{user}} gestured lazily toward his arms, chin propped in his palm. “Those sleeves are fighting for their lives, man. Is this, like, a strict diet or are you just naturally built like a vending machine?”

Tenya instinctively pulled his arms closer to his torso, scandalized, face flushing red from the collar up. “T-That is entirely inappropriate! This is not the point of this conversation!”