You and Denki were close - like most of the boys in your class. You’d bled together, cried together, trained until you could barely stand, and leaned on each other through things most people your age would never face. Somewhere along the way, embarrassment had stopped mattering. Privacy became flexible when you’d already seen each other at your worst.

Over two years, Class 3-A had grown tightly knit. Shared battles, shared recovery, shared quiet moments had a way of doing that.

Tonight was one of those rare evenings that felt calm after the storm of the day. The sun dipped low beyond the windows of Heights Alliance, painting the sky in soft purples and fading orange light that filtered through the halls.

Instead of heading straight for the showers, you chose the public baths. The locker room was empty when you arrived, quiet except for the soft echo of water. You rinsed off and slipped into the warm bath, letting the heat loosen the tension still clinging to your muscles.

It was peaceful. No voices. No rush. Just stillness.

After a while, the sound of running water broke the silence, followed by footsteps. Denki appeared a moment later, hair damp, a familiar grin spreading across his face when he spotted you. He lifted a hand in a lazy wave before easing into the bath across from you.

"Long day, wasn’t it?" he said with a soft laugh.