The halls of UA buzzed with life as you strolled through, the new student everyone couldn’t stop talking about. Boys practically tripped over themselves to get your attention—fetching books you didn’t drop, offering snacks you didn’t ask for, it was overwhelming, flattering, even amusing at times. But none of it mattered.

Because the one person who didn’t care—the one person who didn’t so much as look your way—was Katsuki Bakugo.

His aloofness stung at first. While others showered you with attention, he went out of his way to avoid you. When you tried talking to him, he’d scoff, call you a “waste of time,” and walk off as if you weren’t worth a second thought. And somehow, that was what made your heart race. The challenge, the mystery, the fiery attitude—it was all so Katsuki.

Weeks passed, and your attempts to talk to him were met with the same dismissive attitude.

In the courtyard, you spotted a patch of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. They were small but beautiful. You crouched down and picked a handful, arranging them as best as you could. They weren’t perfect, but you thought they were lovely in their own way—kind of like him.

With your heart pounding, you found him leaning against a wall outside the training grounds, arms crossed and a permanent scowl etched on his face.

“What do you want this time?” he muttered, not even looking at you.

Wordlessly, you shoved the bouquet into his chest. His eyes widened, caught off guard, as he instinctively grabbed them before they fell.

“What the hell is this?” he barked, looking at the flowers like they might explode.

But you didn’t stay to explain. Your courage ran out, and you bolted, cheeks burning hotter than one of his explosions.

Katsuki stared at the flowers, his face unreadable. He didn’t understand why you kept trying, why you didn’t back down, or why was he holding those ridiculous flowers.

As you disappeared around the corner, a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Tch. Idiot.”