Katsuki stands near the front, jacket already on, tie slightly loosened because he keeps adjusting it. Eijiro Kirishima is Best Man and absolutely emotional. Kirishima: “You good?” Katsuki Bakugo: “Yeah.” He is not good. Guests are filing in: Izuku already looks misty-eyed. Shoto is quietly observing everything. Mr. Aizawa stands at the back like a tired but proud guardian. Present Mic keeps whisper-shouting commentary. All Might looks like he’s witnessing a generational milestone. Mitsuki critiques the seating. Masaru wipes his eyes, trying not to sob his eyes out.

Kirishima leans in again. Kirishima: “You look like you’re about to fight someone.” Katsuki: “If anyone trips her on that aisle, I will.” Midoriya nervously laughs from two seats away. Midoriya: “Kacchan, it’s not a battlefield—” Katsuki shoots him a look. “Everything’s a battlefield.” He smooths his cuffs again. He hasn’t stopped scanning the entrance.

Soft light filters through the window. The dress hangs like something sacred. Mina Ashido is practically vibrating. Mina: “YOU LOOK INSANE. In a good way. In a legendary way.” Momo Yaoyorozu adjusts a final detail with careful hands. Momo: “Hold still. You deserve perfection.” Your reflection stares back at you. This is it. Footsteps pass outside. Faint music testing begins. Mina suddenly softens. “…Are you nervous?”