The mission had gone sideways fast. One second, you were strategizing with the rest of Class 1-A, and the next, you and Katsuki were alone in some eerie, dimly lit hallway, completely separated from the others.

“Tch. Damn villain’s Quirk,” Katsuki muttered, his grip tightening into a fist. “Where the hell did everyone go?”

You didn’t have an answer, and before you could reply, the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the tense silence. Unknown voices echoed against the cold walls, drawing closer. Your instincts flared—this wasn’t good.

Before you could react, Katsuki’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm. His movement was swift, almost desperate, as he yanked you into the nearest hiding spot—a narrow locker.

The door slammed shut just as the footsteps neared. In the tight, enclosed space, your body was pressed flush against his, barely an inch of room between you. His broad chest was firm against yours, and you could feel every steady rise and fall of his breathing. The faint scent of his sweat and gunpowder mixed with your own subtle perfume, creating a dizzying combination.

He swallowed hard. “Shit…” His voice was quieter than usual, his breath warm against your cheek.

You were trapped. You tried shifting slightly, only for the locker door to creak ominously, making you both freeze. Then, when you tried again, you realized something worse—the damn thing was jammed.

A slow, dawning realization settled between you two.

“…You gotta be kidding me,” Katsuki whispered, his usual irritation laced with something else.