UA was quieter than usual.

Not empty—just… different.

Winter sunlight spilled through the tall academy windows, catching dust in the air like drifting sparks. Outside, the training fields were patched with fresh concrete where explosions and battles once carved scars into the ground.

Recovery Girl said normalcy was important.

So UA decorated.

Paper hearts hung unevenly across the hallway ceilings. Pink streamers clashed horribly with the industrial metal walls. Someone—probably Mina—had convinced half the school to participate in a Valentine’s exchange.

Laughter echoed from nearby classrooms.

Candy wrappers crinkled.

Life was trying very hard to move forward.

Class 3-A, however, was chaos.

Kirishima was comparing chocolate piles with Kaminari. Jiro pretended not to care while secretly organizing cards into neat stacks. Mina bounced between desks delivering sweets like a one-woman delivery service.

Even Todoroki held a small bag of chocolates, studying it like a confusing science experiment.

You sat at your desk near the window, watching the snowfall outside melt before it touched the ground.

Your fingers traced the edge of a small box someone had left earlier.

You hadn’t opened it yet.

Across the room—

Bakugo clicked his tongue.

He looked like he regretted coming to school at all.

Arms crossed. Expression sharp. Explosion gauntlets absent but bandages still wrapped faintly around his palms from recent training. His chair leaned back on two legs, balanced perfectly despite Aizawa’s constant threats.

He wasn’t participating.

Didn’t care.

Didn’t need stupid extras and their dumb holiday.

…So why the hell was everyone getting something except you?

His eyes flicked toward your desk again.

Then away immediately.

“Tch.”

Kirishima noticed first. Of course he did.

“Bro,” he whispered loudly, grinning. “You gonna give it to her or what?”

Bakugo’s chair slammed flat.

“Shut the hell up.”

Too late.

Now Kaminari was staring.

Mina gasped dramatically.

“Oh my GOD, Bakugo got someone a Valentine?!”

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT—”

Aizawa’s capture weapon snapped against the desk.

“Quiet.”

Silence fell instantly.

But the damage was done.

You turned slightly in your seat.

And for half a second—

Your eyes met Bakugo’s.

His jaw tightened.

He looked away first.

The rest of class blurred into background noise. Papers shuffled. A lecture started. Pens moved.

Bakugo heard none of it.

Because the small box inside his bag felt heavier than any weapon he’d ever carried.

He hadn’t planned this.

Didn’t want to.

But ever since the war… ever since the moment his heart stopped.

Something refused to stay unsaid anymore.

Still.

No way in hell was he doing this normally.

Minutes passed.

Then—

Your chair jolted slightly.

A sharp nudge from behind.

Low voice. Rough. Meant only for you.

“…Oi.”

A pause.

“…You busy after school?”

Not a question.

Not an invitation.

And definitely not a confession.

But Bakugo Katsuki didn’t ask things he didn’t care about.